Notes

The story will follow the adventures of Wulfgrimm Winterheart and his assortment of friends, companions, relatives, lovers and even enemies that he makes during his time in the Vale. Wulfgrimm is a Tigerclaw Barbarian from the Winterbole Forest just on the borderlands of the Kingdom of Nentir.

In terms of 4th Edition WOTC books, this campaign will follow all those set in and around the Nentir Vale with a few more placed between the end and start of major quests to add more life and give it a feeling of flowing naturally from one module to the next, at least I hope that's how it works out.

All distances for the Campaign Map of the Nentir Vale are five times those given in the WOTC books. So the Nentir Vale is approx. 500 miles x 500 miles rather than the approx. 100x100 miles. This was to allow the Nentir Vale to become a Border Kingdom, with a capital city and more cities and settlements as well as a greater distance between towns and cities.

The Vale as it was didn't feel like a large enough area to base a campaign with something like twenty adventure modules located there. This probably goes against the Points of Light idea of a campaign as the Nentir Vale will be quite a lot more civilized with farms, villages, and small towns covering much of the flat grassland areas. Although the overall feeling of the campaign/story should remain the same as intended with the threats to the Nentir Vale still being present and in a lot of cases far more numerous.

Let me know what you think of the story and write a review so I know what's working and what's not. In future chapters I will put the notes section at the end of the chapter. When an adventure module starts I'll make a note of it in the notes section. It will be awhile before the story gets to the modules and the campaign as the story takes place in Wulfgrimm's childhood for the first few chapters.

The Chronicles of

Wulfgrimm Winterheart

Chapter 1: Young Wulfgrimm

13 years before present day, The Kingdom of Nentir Borderlands, Nentir Vale, Southern Winterbole Forest, approx. 100 miles east of Lake Wintermist, The Tigerclaw Barbarian Village of Ashendir, 1st Month of Winter, Sunrise.

"Wulf, grab your knife and hunting bow, and don't forget the quiver of arrows like last time." Arrendor shouted to his youngest son.

Wulf quickly gathered up his things, desperate to accompany his father on his latest hunting trip. He had been looking forward to it since their last trip the year before. He looked at the razor sharp edge of his hunting knife and carefully placed it within its sheath on his leather belt. He struggled into his white wolf fur hooded winter cloak. He swung the quiver of arrows over his head and adjusted it until it sat correctly on his back. He picked up his birthday present, a newly fletched hunting bow to match his small stature. The bow had pride of place on his wall next to the stuffed wolf's head he had slain while hunting on his last birthday trip.

Eight years old, he thought to himself, soon he would be a man and a powerful warrior like his father and older brothers. He grinned with pride, today he would hunt a giant snow bear he decided. He would give its fur to his mother to make a beautiful winter cloak. He would take its teeth and claws and give them to his sisters so they could fashion precious jewellery. He would bring back its meat to feed the family for a week or longer. He thought what it would be like to hunt a white dragon, but he thought maybe he was too small at the moment, perhaps next year.

He filled his leather waterskin and pulled the strap over his head so it rested at his side within easy reach. He pulled on his knee high fur boots and walked through into the kitchen area of the log cabin. Nadea his mother smiled at her youngest son and handed him a small leather sack with a loaf of bread, a small cheese wheel, and two red apples. He grinned at her and slung it over his shoulder alongside the waterskin.

"Thank you, mother." Wulfgrimm said through a beaming smile that showed of his excitement at going hunting with his father.

"You are welcome, my beautiful, brave son." She replied and gathered him up in her arms, hanging on to him like it was the last time he would ever see her.

"Are you ready, son? It's time we were going if we want to get a full day of hunting." Arrendor said as he walked into the kitchen. He looked like a giant copy of his son. He carried a massive oak hunting bow. At his waist he carried a single handed battle axe and a two foot long hunting knife. He stood six and half feet tall, about a head taller than Nadea, who was also considered tall for a woman. It suited the warrior woman who was equally at home on the battlefield as she was cooking dinner for her large family. Both of Wulf's parents had long wild black hair, Arrendor's down to below his shoulders while Nadea's reached her waist. Wulf mirrored his father in looks. Both had a rugged handsomeness about them that matched their barbarian nature.

"I'm ready to go, Father." Wulf replied eagerly. He pulled on a pair of woollen gloves and placed his fur hood on his head. Underneath all the fur he looked like a little white snow bear. With all the goodbyes out of the way, Wulf proudly led his father trudging through the knee deep snow, out of the village and into the surrounding forest.

After several hours of searching for their prey, they came upon a small lake no more than a thousand feet across, it was fed by a small waterfall that fell over the cliff-top about thirty feet above them. Arrendor immediately pulled his son down behind a rock before they were noticed. Camped around the lake were hundreds of hyena headed beasts, yet they walked and talked like humans, albeit in their own guttural language of yips, snarls, barks, howls and growls.

Arrendor studied them as they went about their business, he estimated somewhere between four and five hundred of the vile beasts. The question that immediately came to mind was what where they doing so far south. Normally one of the other clans would have clashed with them as the Southern Winterbole Forest was densely packed with the barbarian clans.

North of the clanlands were the elven kingdoms, which would have delighted in tracking down the beasts and slaughtering every last one of them. It seemed impossible that they could have come from the mountains in the far north, so the only other answer was they were raiding from the Underdark. Whether they were out for general slaughter and looting or gathering slaves or food he could only guess at. The fact remained he needed to get back to the village immediately and warn the clan's warriors that a gnoll warband was within raiding distance.

They backed away from the lake keeping the rocks between them and the gnolls. When they were far enough away Arrendor lifted Wulf onto his back and told him to hang on. With his battleaxe in one hand and the round wooden shield in the other he began striding forward at a steady pace. It would take a few hours to get back to the village, but he could stop at some of the villages on the way back and warn them to prepare.

Arrendor glided through the snow, dodging trees, bushes and undergrowth. After half an hour of running he came to a stop. He took his waterskin and gulped down some refreshing ice cold water, and then handed it to Wulf who did the same. The village of Darashan was only twenty minutes away if they were located where he thought they were and hadn't wandered off in the wrong direction during his run. It was unlikely, he had hunted in these woods for the past forty years and knew every last inch of terrain, including likely entrances to the Underdark.

Twenty minutes later they approached Darashan only to find the place burning and in total chaos. To Arrendor it looked like another gnoll warband was on the warpath. The whole area could be swarming with the beasts. Arrendor had to think of his son and reaching his own village to give warning. He didn't want to think about the possibility that his own village could be under attack. Father and son eased their way around the outskirts of Darashan. They did their best to remain out of sight. There was nothing they could do for these people now other than pray that they were able to fight off the gnolls.

Arrendor scooped up his son once again and let him climb onto his back. Then he was running again through the deep snow, every step a possible hazard but no time to check for danger. Before they had gone five minutes from Darashan, Wulf spotted two people running through the woods. It was too far to see who they were but one was only small about the same height as Wulf. Wulf frantically pointed in their direction as he saw a group of six gnolls come into view several hundred paces behind them. Arrendor dropped Wulf to the ground where the young warrior readied his small hunting bow and took an arrow from the quiver. Arrendor readied his own bow and within seconds to of the pursuing gnolls lay bleeding on the floor from arrows in their neck. Wulf tried a shot himself but the arrow bounced off the beasts shield.

The two who were running saw what was happening and ran towards Arrendor and Wulf, looking for the protection that they hoped they would provide. The gnolls charged forward with their shields raised to fend off the next flight of arrows. Their unintelligible barks presumably to each other sent shivers of fear through Wulf, who fumbled desperately for another arrow. Arrendor dropped another with a carefully placed arrow to the beast's left eye.

The final three howled their anger and charged forward. Arrendor met the leading gnoll with axe and shield having dropped his bow into the snow. Wulf winced as his fathers axe tore through the gnoll's shield and hit him in the left side of the face, smashing his cheekbone and severing his jaw. The beast fell to the floor, yapping in excruciating pain. Wulf aimed his next arrow and fired, hitting the squirming gnoll in the dead centre of his chest. The beast gasped a few more breaths then fell silent.

Wulf watched as the two people who had been running approached him one with a raised dagger though she lowered it when she saw Wulf's face. Wulf studied them momentarily the elder girl was about sixteen, the younger girl about his own age, eight. The elder girl carried a small bundle that Wulf presumed was a baby. Just as the older girl was about to say something she screamed. Wulf looked over his shoulder and saw one of the gnolls charging towards them. Arrendor was busy fighting the other remaining gnoll. Wulf rolled to one side just as the beasts axe struck the now empty spot where he had been standing. Wulf dropped his bow and drew his hunting knife. The gnoll seemed to be laughing at him, though it was impossible to tell what the savage beast was really doing.

As they faced off, Wulf began to worry that he would never get to grow older and hunt dragons. It seemed like a strange thought to him, but here he was facing off against a proven warrior, with nothing more than a hunting knife. Wulf looked up to see the gnoll raise his blade and suddenly stop dead still. The beast toppled forward with his father's axe embedded in its back. Wulf ran forward and slit the beast's throat, just to make certain it was dead. The last of the gnolls lay bleeding to death at Arrendor's feet. Before they could stop her the older girl was plunging her dagger into the beast's chest, repeatedly and with obvious pure hatred. The younger girl went up to her and pulled her away while trying not to drop the baby she had been handed.

"Stop, girl, it is dead." Arrendor commanded.

"I hate them they killed everyone in our village." The girl wept.

"We have no time to talk to talk now. Come with us to our village. You will be made welcome in my house." Arrendor said as he gathered up his axe and bow. He checked on all of the fallen gnolls to ensure they were dead. Carefully cutting the throat of each and taking his arrows from those who had been shot. Wulf went to find his own bow and took his arrows back after a titanic struggle getting them out of the beasts' flesh.

This time they would all run. Arrendor took the baby in its cover of warm lamb's wool. Wulf was glad he got to run on his own. They started on a fast run as the sound of yapping and barking grew louder. It sounded like a large warband in the distance, though they couldn't see anything yet.

The journey home took them another two hours of hiding and running. They could only thank the gods that these beasts made so much noise they were easy to spot from a long distance. As they approached the village of Ashendir, all looked as it did when they had left. There was no sign of gnoll warbands raiding the village.

Arrendor headed straight for the village's Great Hall, the home of the clan's chieftain. As they approached, the sound of horns in the distance rang out. Within minutes the whole place was alive with warriors struggling into their armour and readying their weapons. Moments later the first refugees came into sight, running for the locked front gate. The 20' high wooden palisade wall and twenty foot deep fifty foot wide trench that ran around the outside of the village was a good deterrent to any would-be attackers. Those coming through the front gate would have to cross a draw bridge over the trench.

The draw bridge was lowered as the guards recognised some of the fleeing people from neighbouring villages. At first it was dozens, but quickly the fleeing mob turned to hundreds as the guards noted people from five different villages. Those in front were the young children leading younger children and carrying babies. Behind them were those elder folk who could manage the journey. Presumably many had been lost unable to undertake such a rigorous journey in harsh and unyielding conditions. Behind them came the warrior women of the Tigerclaw clans. Almost all of them carried weapons and some wore armour and all looked as though they had seen battle.

The gates swung open to allow them entry. The Tigerclaw poured into the village, the desperation on their faces only to clear to see for the people of Ashendir. At the rear the men folk fought a screening action to stop the advancing gnoll warbands from overrunning their people. It looked as though many were dying to buy time for their loved ones to escape to the relative safety of Ashendir. Eventually the warriors of the Tigerclaw Clans reached the drawbridge and two hundred archers along the walls of Ashendir opened fire on the pursuing gnolls. The front ranks were obliterated after five flights of arrows and the gnolls retreated back out of range into the woods.

The remaining warriors found their way through the front gates that shut behind them. Arndulf the Chieftain of Ashendir went out to meet the people who now sought sanctuary in his village. Every street was filled with refugees. The marketplace was being used to gather up the Tigerclaw folks into their respective villages.

Arrendor took up position beside his chieftain. Others from Ashendir not guarding the walls joined their chieftain as they approached the gradually filling marketplace. Wulf led the two girls and the baby to his house to meet his mother and the rest of the family. He was a little annoyed that his father wouldn't let him join in the defence of the village. But after a few moments of dwelling on the idea in his thoughts, he was glad to be out of the way. There would be plenty of time for slaughtering gnolls when he was older.