| Akeron
©2014 Keith Haney
Next Session: TBA
  • Act 1
  • Act 2
  • Act 3
  • Act 4
  • Introduction
  • Character Generation
  • House Rules
  • Approved Sourcebooks
  • Area Map
  • Pallidorn
  • World Map


Winter's teeth have lost their bite. Green meadows dare to push forth fragrant blossoms on the bluffs overlooking Hlofreden (Law-fred-en). Nestled within a curtain of stone, the cove port is sheltered from the unyielding western sea.

Signs of the former mining town’s glory days are visible in the prominent stone architecture and statuary honoring Dwarven heroes and founders. Though most Hlofolk (low-folk) have moved on to richer claims, tradition seems to compel others to stay. Though mining forged the settlement, fishing fleets now fill the coffers of the predominantly human settlement. Though spring struggles to take her proper place in the order of seasons this year, her success is assured if prior years be the measure of things.

Newer oak and stucco buildings mix with the older stone tenants to crowd the narrow streets. Rain gutters belch forth water onto the cobbled streets while merchants and laborers carry on in the drizzle seemingly oblivious to the cold winds and stinging rain. Waves crash against the stone wharf sending plumes of briny water across its broad flagstones. The gray skies hint at the coming blue, but the sun is likely to set before the storm ebbs.

Fewer than a thousand folk call Hlofreden home. The inns are swollen with mercenaries and adventures keen to claim the regent’s reward for ridding the town of its cursed malady. Four seasons have come and gone under the cloak of fear and death. It was the regent’s own son who first alerted the citizen to the danger. Since that time, neither money nor magic has been able to bring peace to Hlofreden. Fear and mistrust have prospered where good will and a kind word once ruled.

An old friend has invited you to his house to share a warm hearth and a drink. The note he sent yesterday suggested that a matter of some importance is on his mind. Salt etchings nearly obscure the number on the door of his sub-street level flat. Slender leaded glass windows reveal the flicker of a warm hearth within.

You are not the only guest for this gathering. Other friends huddle near a well fed fire as they shed rain-soaked layers of clothing. Your host, Master Beidrick, motions for you to sit as sturdy chairs beckon the gathered guests. He is clad in a heavy knit sweater and sturdy work pants. A Maritime guild pin is fixed to his collar. His lips part in a thin smile which is mostly obscured by his thick brown beard. He settles into a chair at the head of the table and takes a long pull from a glass of Dwarven whiskey. A gilded bottle sits before him on a oily wooden table with several glasses arranged on a tray. The look in his eyes says he is feeling nostalgic. He is only a few years older than you, but the mantle of manhood has come early to him in the same way it did to you. He clears his throat to silence the room then speaks.

“Our shared history visits us anew. Its hard to believe it has been five years since..." His voice trails off, the emotions still raw even this many years on. Beidrick sips again of the golden liquid. His face pinches in response to the strong spirits. Then he continues.

“I've not invited you here just to share your company and a good bottle of whiskey.” He pauses and leans forward, setting the glass on the warped surface. Our old foe has returned." His hands disappear under the table for a moment, then return bearing a box wrapped in reedy paper. A slit in the paper suggests that it has already been opened.

“This was on my doorstep yesterday morning. No note was attached, but the author of this tale is well known to us all.” Swiping the glass from the table he throws back the golden liquid with a flourish ending with a guttural growl.

Beidrick peals back the paper revealing a smoky black wooden box. Twisted reeds once held the box lid tight, but now fall away with the paper. Beidrick’s callused hands turn back the lid of the box. The chanted glass lamp clinging to the ceiling overhead illuminate six yellowed and cracked wax figures. The crafter’s fingerprints are still visible in the semi-soft material.

“I don’t know if this means we are released from our curse or if they now mean us ill. We have stayed silent all these years, and so we have given them no cause for quarrel.” Beidrick pauses again, his face fixed and furrowed.

It was fool-hearty bravado that inspired the adventure. Forbidding one travel to an island is as much as an invitation to curious young men. No one remembers who gave voice to the idea, but the seed germinated for the better part of a summer before it took root. A group of boys and the girl whose attentions they all wanted set out that fated day. The weather was perfect. The winds and currents inclined to their purpose.

The boat was easy enough to pull onto the rocky beach. Care was taken to secure the boat against a returning tide. They may as well have been standing on the moon, for this foreign shore was alien to all but the unfortunate souls who had perished in the attempt over the years. Their collective will had brought them to these forbidden shores. Petty spells and secondhand weapons would stand athwart whatever dangers may come.

Few days in the northern isles were as fair as this one. Cautions were nearly forgotten for love of a warm summer day. The dare had been completed by merely setting foot on the grizzled shore. The youths gathered driftwood to build a pyre on the beach. Stolen spirits and tales of future accolades chased the sun across the sky. It was Keela, the dark haired beauty, that found the path near the windswept grasses that marked the entrance to the interior of the island.

With some trepidation the group conspired to follow the path to its end. The prize for their bravery was a squat stone cottage a few hundred yards from the beach. Cautious probing revealed that no one was at home. It had been occupied, but telling by whom or what was not discernible by the contents of the cottage. The pantry was fully stocked. The hearth was cold and clean. Many elixirs and paints crowded the shelves. Shipwreck salvage appeared to be the primary source for furnishing the cottage.

Postulations of lost survivors of a deadly shipwreck fueled a hasty departure from the secluded stone house.

Arriving back at the beach the adventure soured. The boat was missing. Panic gripped the group and blame followed after. Ideas were few and frustration gave way to night.In the hours between dusk and dawn time fell away.

By morning all seemed to have been made right, like waking from a bad dream. The boat had returned to its place and the weather had aligned to speed their journey home. A blemish tainted their optimism. The number of their party had been diminished by one. Keela was no where to be found.

A trio of figures appeared on the beach. The largest of them held a totem aloft a violent sickness wracked each of the boys in turn. A storm of crows descended on them. The boat was seaworthy and the surviving members clung to her hull as the waves built between them and the island.

The cloud of birds followed them from back from the isle. From then until now, they have remained ever watchful.

Keela was lost to them. Her position as an orphan maid in the noble houses would not earn her proper mourning beyond the group of boys who saw her last.

Beidrick’s eyes cloud and resolve enters his voice. “I mean to return to the island”.

Character Build:
Use the standard 15 point build for creating your character.

Characters start the campaing with 2 traits. Link

Starting Money:
Use the average amount for your class.


Level Advancement:
In order to introduce down time between adventures and facilitate a more character driven world, I am instituting a mandatory apprentice system for the Akeron Campaign Setting.

When a character attains enough experience to advance to the next level, he must seek out a qualified master to train him.

Training Time
This advancement requires three 8 hour training periods. When training is completed new skills, feats, and hit points are awarded to the trainee.

Training Fees
Trainees are expected to pay for expert teachings. Many masters earn a good living by opening schools dedicated to their craft. At higher levels PCs may be sought out as masters providing another means of earning money and potential followers.

Training for Fees
2nd Level 20 gp
3rd Level 40 gp
4th Level 60 gp
5th Level 100 gp
6th Level 200 gp
7th Level 300 gp
8th Level 400 gp

Boarding during training is an additional 20%.

When teaching a student, 10 gp of the cost goes to expenses the remainder of the fee is for the teacher.

Qualified Masters
In order to be qualified as a training master the instructor must be at least two levels higher than the trainee (Prior to training). A Qualified Master can continue to train a student until they are of equal level.

A master with an exceptional prime requisite score in the class of study can bestow bonus skills to trainees. These preferred masters often charge more for training than a typical master.


Advance Race Guide - Not all of the races in the book are available. If you wish to run a unique race from this book consult your GM.



Advanced Player's Guide - Approved.
Core Rule Book - Approved.
Ultimate Alchemy - Approved.
Ultimate Combat - Approved.

Ultimate Equipment - Approved.

Try to avoid the temptation to read all of the magic items in this book. Many of the magic items are commonly known, others area beyond the knowledge of the character or omitted entirely from the campaign.

Ultimate Magic - Approved.

Area Map
Adventure Chronicle
System: Pathfinder
Designer: Keith Haney
Players: Erik Collett
David Ernst
Mike Holladay
Ryan Holladay
Dewayne Rawls
Kenneth Johnson
Start Date: July 8, 2014
Status: Active
Campaign Setting: Akeron
Contact: keith@gamepointworlds.com
© 2016 Gamepoint Inc.


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