Blank hex map to use in your campaign!

Need a hex map for your RPG campaign? Feel free to use the one I created below. The map includes small and large hexes. You can change the scale to suit your needs but it was created with 6/30 mile hexes in mind.

What is wrong with your magic item?

 

Want to add some negative effects to your magic items that aren’t as powerful as full blown curses? When an item is discovered by the party, there is a 20% chance that the item is damaged. If damaged roll on the table below to determine the effect. Alternatively if the item is damaged during gameplay you can roll of the table. 

Damaged magic items can be fixed, the players might do a favour on behalf of a local wizard who will fix it in return. A second option they have is to retrieve certain magical ingredients to allow the item to be fixed and pay 30% of the items worth in gold. 

1	Unlucky. Roll on this table twice.
2	Unstable. User takes 1HP of magic damage every time the item is used.
3	Loud. The item makes a piercing shriek whenever used.
4	Blinding. The item shines a blinding blue light when used.
5	Noxious. The item emits a disgusting odour when used.
6	Memory Wipe. After using this magic item the user forgets the past 1d4 hours.
7	Slippery. After using this item roll 1d4 and on a 1 the user drops the item.
8	Backfire. After using this item roll 1d4 and on a 1 the user is knocked back 10ft and knocked prone.
9	Draining. Lowers a randomly determined ability score by 1.
10	Doomed. After using this magic item roll 1d20, on a 1 the item explodes causing magical damage and is destroyed.

Alternate Barrowmaze Hex Map

 The original version of this map is found in the megadungeon Barrowmaze. I created this map on inkarnate as a version to show the players with some hidden details taken off the map.

Light's End

 

I once loved the sea but now I dare not even lay eyes upon it. Here is my written account of what happened that final accursed night which led me to retire from my longstanding position of lighthouse keeper of the Longships Lighthouse. This is the first time I have told what I truly saw the night before I retired. The man who maintained the lighthouse before me was a stout man named Sam Wyatt. I took over his position after a tragic accident in which he fell from the top of the lighthouse onto the rocks below. I remained the keeper of that lonely tower for exactly thirty years and a day. Until one fateful night when I could no longer remain its custodian.

The lighthouse stands amongst a small cluster of rocky islands, just off the western coast of the tip of Cornwall. Commonly known as ‘Lands’ End’. Calling them islands is generous, they are merely more than a collection of rocks thrust upwards from the cornish sea. It was as if they had come together for safety. For alone, they would have long ago perished amongst the waves.

That fateful night I lay in bed dreaming when the sound of thunder shattered my sleep. As I opened my eyes, the circular chamber of the bedroom lit with another flash of lightning and a crackle of thunder. I rose from the bed to light the solitary candle on the nightstand. As I stood in the darkened chamber, I could barely hear the rain as it was almost drowned out by the crash of waves on the rocks outside. I was drawn, as if by an unknown source, to the round window at the far end of the room.

I gazed out of the narrow hole; my eyes struggling in the low light of the night. The moons light was weak, blocked by clouds moving like shadows crawling on its surface. It was impossible to tell where the sea ended, and the sky began. But the familiar sound of the oceans waves endlessly striking against the small rocky islands offered some comfort. The islands were barren of vegetation apart from the lichen covered rocks. As I continued to scan the rocks that I had long called home, for a moment I wondered if my eyes were playing tricks with me.

A flash of lightning exposed two moving figures on one of the other islands directly opposite the window I was gazing out from. My mind raced to put together a suitable explanation of what madness I was seeing. My next supplies were not due for at least another two weeks and no sane mariner would brace this storm for something so trivial, even more so at night. What were these two men were doing that couldn’t wait for more favourable conditions?

The figures looked to be struggling with the rocky surface they travelled, they hopped oddly amongst the rocks and occasionally moved on all fours. The duo carried a sort of large chest with them. Were these men thieves looking for somewhere to hide their ill-gotten gains? This was my only explanation for their strange behaviour.

I looked around for the vessel that they must have made their way to the island on. It must have been small, because it was hidden from my sight, presumably behind one of the larger rocks. A small boat in a storm as terrible as this? This added to my confusion, it was risky to say the least. I was now fascinated with what was going on. After all it was within my charge to protect the lighthouse and its surrounding area.

I could only see so much with the naked eye, and the weather was not making it any easier. I made my way upwards to the service room retrieved my spyglass for a better view. The stairs were dangerous in the day never mind the night and during a storm. Lightning lit the room as I entered it. I took the spyglass and approached the new window. It was still a struggle in the dim light and obscuring rain, but I now had a much better view of the events. I could see that there was now four men on the small island, the newcomers seemed to have brought another chest with them. I still could not see any sort of rowboat or vessel of any kind. The men were wearing sodden voluminous cloaks that hid their features. The dark group were retrieving objects from the chests and constructing something in the centre of the island. They did not seem to pay any mind to the waves that crashed around them. Which alarmed me as for if one of them were knocked into that sea they would surely drown.

Two of the men were combining what looked like metal rods to make a supporting structure as the new men took a green medium sized bell and hung it on the structure. It was the distinct green colour that copper goes when it is oxidised. After the contraption was complete the bell began to ring. It sounded deep and loud, louder than it should have been as portrayed by its size. After a moment I could hear another bell, then shortly after that another. I could hear distinctly three bells chiming, then they started to ring together in chorus.

Confused, I ran to another window in the room. There on the other two islands were two more bells, both set up the centre of each islands and each with a group of figures surrounding them. I cannot remember how long the bells rang. I stood there in that window hypnotised, staring at the figures as they seemed to jump and dance around the bells.

At some point the rain stopped, and the sea became eerily quiet. The clouds parted and the moon seemed to expand, becoming sickly green as if drowned and bloated. In that moment everything became clear and silent. The sea was calm and the only sounds I could hear was that of the mad throng that seemed to croak and bay in an unnatural unknown language as if in accordance to the never-ending chiming of the bells.

The moonlight finally illuminated the figures and with the aid of my spyglass I could see some semblance of their features. Though now I wish I did not for I may have kept some semblance of my sanity if I remained oblivious. It was now that I knew these figures were not human. They were bipedal and often walked upright but that is where their similarity ended.

Their hideous heads were large with bulbous black unblinking eyes, their maws full of rows of jagged, pointed teeth. Their limbs lithe and long with webbed hands. Their scaled skin shone in the moonlight. Increasingly more of the creatures emerged from the deep until the islands were crowded. It is no doubt in my mind that these strange denizens from the deep were wholly unnatural. Their presence on the islands tainted the very rocks in which they walked.

They now stood completely still, and the ringing bells of the bells slowed and eventually became silent. I wanted to flee and hide but fear froze me to the spot. The still sea between the islands began to ripple and the sound of two immense rocks scraping rumbled below the water. A dark shape began to rise, it’s immense size slowly becoming more apparent until its full form was revealed. It was vast, blackened water dripped from its body as it stood there at least fifty feet tall. Its loathsome appearance matched that of the creatures that had beckoned it. The abyssal titan stood towering over the crowds that surrounded it and there was no doubt in my mind that they had called it here for some wicked purpose. I believe that is the moment I went mad.

I have no more recollection of that night or day that followed. I was informed that the following night the beacon was not lit so the local authority came to investigate fearing I had had an accident. However, they cannot begin to imagine the terror that I saw that night. When they arrived, they found me hiding in the pantry raving nonsense about dark figures in the depths. Of course, they never took note of any of it and just thought me mad.

When I was taken to the boat the pierce of seagull cries was deafening. There must have been hundreds flocking to the little islands, far more than I have ever seen in all my years of living there. I then saw the cause of the commotion, thousands of dead and decaying fish covering the islands. They attributed the phenomena to the storm, explaining that a shoal must have been washed ashore during the high waves. In that I had my doubts, but by then I knew I should say no more fearing being locked up.

Now, years later, the events that I saw, and my longstanding mental illness has been attributed to years of isolation and my doctor suggests that mercury poisoning could have caused me to hallucinate that night. But I deny these theories. Here in this written account, I believe that what I saw is a terrible cycle, doomed to repeat itself. I will not last another thirty years so I am now sending you this account as part of my last will and testament so another poor soul will not experience what I did. I now believe that Mr Wyatt was not incompetent and do not believe his death to be an accident. I believe he saw the same black rite that I did and leaped from the precipice of the lighthouse rather than face the true horrors of what he was seeing. I fear that if I was atop that god forsaken tower, I would have made the same choice and suffered the same fate that he did. I beg that you take these words seriously and do not subjugate another poor soul to that tower of madness.