Eric P. Caillibot's Blog

Big news this month — I’m thrilled to finally share four brand-new covers from The World of Kiynan TTRPG series: the core sourcebook and three full-length adventures that tie directly into The Kiynan Chronicles.

But before we get to the reveals, I have another announcement…

Get Early-Bird Access to the Kickstarter

The Kickstarter campaign for The World of Kiynan is planned for early 2026 (aiming for March), and I’ve set up a dedicated early-bird list.

By signing up, you’ll:

Receive an exclusive early-bird 15% discount when the campaign launches,

Get behind-the-scenes campaign updates and sneak peeks ahead of everyone else,

And most importantly show your support for the campaign.

Sign up today for early-bird access

Now… let’s get to those covers!

The World of Kiynan Cover Reveal

The first reveal is the cover of The World of Kiynan — the core sourcebook that serves as the foundation of the entire 5E-compatible line.

The art is by Dean Spencer, whose work I mentioned back in September when I became one of his patrons on Patreon. Dean’s illustrations have brought countless RPG worlds to life, and I couldn’t be happier that he’s done the same for Kiynan.

Inside, you’ll find the full lore of Kiynan — its lands, cultures, creatures, technology and the emotion-based magic system, where characters channel their emotional energy to shape the world around them.

This book lays the groundwork for everything to come — and for the three adventures that follow.

Three Adventures, One Ongoing Story

Alongside the sourcebook, my Kickstarter will also feature three full-length campaign books — each set within the same world and forming a continuous narrative that ties directly into the novels.

These are:

Preemptive Justice — set after Book Two: The Legacy of Lethe, this adventure introduces the atmosphere that leads to the events in Book Three: The Ordeals of Ornland.

Return to Skywall — takes place after Book Three: The Ordeals of Ornland, as heroes search for the remains of the ancient stronghold of House Calm and explore the shadows of its past, explored in book three.

Clockwork Dawn — the third adventure, set after book three, hinting at the turbulent events to come in Book Four: The Vicissitudes of Varice.

Each of these adventures is canon within The Kiynan Chronicles — meaning you can actually play through the unfolding story of the novels. The adventures are designed to be played in sequence, tracing the same dramatic arc that shapes the books themselves.

What Do You Think?

I’d love to hear your first impressions of these covers — which one grabs you most? Hit reply and let me know!

Thanks, as always, for following along and supporting this world as it grows — both on the page and at the table.

Until next time,

Based on The One Ring 2e by Free League Publishing

Born into the sturdy halls of the Iron Hills, Burin was destined for battle. From a young age, he wielded a sword with a natural prowess that surprised even the seasoned warriors of Durin’s Folk. Yet, his path to becoming a renowned champion was not without its trials. Early in his life, deep within the Iron Hills mines, he came face to face with a monstrous cave troll. The encounter was brief and brutal, leaving Burin shaken but alive. The shock of that terrifying ordeal, however, turned his dark hair and beard to a startling, premature white. From that day, he was known as Burin Whitebeard.

The trauma of the troll encounter didn’t deter him; instead, it ignited a fierce resolve. More than thirty years ago, he left the Iron Hills, driven by a singular purpose: to fight the encroaching darkness. He dedicated his life to battling the enemy, particularly the orcs that gnawed at the edges of dwarven lands and beyond. From the desolate slopes of the Ered Mithrin to the shadowed passes of the Misty Mountains, Burin’s sword sang a grim song against the Goblin-kind. He became a champion, a grizzled sentinel against the encroaching shadows, his name whispered with respect and fear among both allies and foes.

He has faced countless skirmishes and major battles, his body a testament to years of grueling combat. However, a few years past, a particularly brutal encounter left him with a grievous injury. Though he survived, his once unmatched strength was significantly diminished. He is still in the long, arduous process of recovery, the pain a constant, unwelcome companion. Yet, true to his proud and stern nature, Burin hides his lingering weakness from everyone. He maintains his grizzled, unyielding demeanor, a shield to conceal the toll his age and injury have taken. He continues to travel, albeit at a slower pace, ever vigilant, ever ready to draw his sword, even if each swing now demands more from him than before. The white of his beard, once a mark of fear, now tells a tale of countless battles and an unyielding spirit.

Before I return to the gen AI topic as promised, I’ve got some exciting news: the pre-launch page for my upcoming Kickstarter campaign is up! You can check it out at https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ericpcaillibot/world-of-kiynan and click the “Notify me on launch” button to get a reminder when it starts. I’ll be sharing a lot more about the campaign in future newsletters, but I wanted to start spreading the news right away.

Now, remember last month when I opened that particular can of worms about gen AI? Well, the good news is we’re all still here, and the world hasn’t ended, despite the controversy. I promised I would write about how this whole AI learning curve has also been useful in my day job, so here we are.

For those just joining the conversation: yes, the technology is here to stay whether we like it or not, and I’m committed to being transparent about how I navigate this new landscape.

The Intentional Crossover

Like most(?) people, I was curious about gen AI as soon as I heard about it. I wasn’t sure how it could be useful to me at first, so I spent time experimenting with these tools in my TTRPG projects, just to see. I wanted to build knowledge I could apply to my day job as a program manager in tech, since it was clear from the outset that it would become a valuable (and probably unavoidable) skill in the corporate world.

I ended up spending a lot of time accomplishing nothing at first, but it helped me understand what the tools are actually good at, where they fall flat, and how they were (quickly) evolving. Those experiments taught me more about working with these tools than any corporate training could (although I also ended up doing a couple of courses online for good measure), and the skills translate directly – breaking down complex projects, exploring different approaches, creating documentation (like presentations complete with illustrations).

What I Learned

The most important lesson: AI is a collaborative tool, not a replacement. Just like a friend or co-DM can help talk through ideas, gen AI works best as part of a creative partnership. The human still provides vision, judgment, and the ability to tell when something is actually good. To paraphrase David Gaughran, gen AI is less like an expert consultant and more like a team of enthusiastic interns. The tools can produce enormous amounts of very interesting work quickly and inexpensively, but it all needs to be carefully reviewed and polished before it has real value.

The Bigger Picture

Look, I’m not going to pretend I have all (or any of) the answers about where this technology is heading. What I do know is that more people understanding how it actually works is better than everyone just reacting to headlines. The more people who know how to use these tools thoughtfully, the better chance we have of this whole thing working out well for creators—and everyone else.

At the end of the day, whether we’re talking about corporate project management or designing the perfect dungeon encounter, the fundamentals haven’t changed. Good work still requires human insight, creativity, and the ability to connect with other people. Technology can make us more efficient, but it can’t make us more thoughtful, empathetic, or imaginative – those are still uniquely human contributions.

So while I’ll keep exploring how I can benefit from these tools, my core mission remains the same: creating stories for all of us to have amazing adventures, whether in our mind’s eye or around the gaming table.

Thanks for sticking with me through this whole exploration!

I’m curious – have you found yourself dealing with AI at work or in your hobbies? And for those who’ve been following along with this whole discussion, what questions do you still have about how creators are navigating this stuff?

Take care!

Campaign summary of Clockwork Dawn, set in the World of Kiynan (5E compatible, based on Wizard of the Coast’s SRD 5.2.1).

The battle for Whisperwind Canyon was won, but the party’s work was far from over. With Aldred of Spire unconscious and his remaining minions captured, the heroes began to piece together the full extent of the disgraced inventor’s operation. While looting the workshop, they turned their attention to the mysterious, steaming cauldron. After fishing out the boiled remains of a Serpent’s Head goon, Ethane carefully used a pair of tongs to retrieve a massive, glowing ruby from the bottom. The stone, dubbed the Emberheart, radiated immense heat and was clearly the secret, magical power source for the Zephyr’s engine—the very secret President Bellwether had been so desperate to hide.

Knowing they were not alone in the canyon, the party decided to take a short rest within the relative safety of the workshop’s tent. Their rest had barely begun when Shep, standing watch, detected the faint sounds of approaching footsteps and quickly alerted the others. Thinking fast, Ethane magically altered his appearance to assume the form of Aldred and confidently stepped out to confront the four approaching minions. In a masterful display of deception, he berated them for questioning his “experiments” and sent them scurrying back to their posts, securing the party the time they needed to recover.

With a plan in place, the group made their way to the final, large alcove of the canyon where the Zephyr was hidden. Their ruse continued, with Ethane playing the part of Aldred, Bitoh and Shep as his loyal guards, and Oren disguised as a captured Valkan prisoner. There, they came face-to-face with the leader of the Serpent’s Head, a man named Jaq, who was encased in a hulking, steam-powered exoskeleton. Another tense negotiation followed, with Ethane’s convincing performance and quick thinking barely keeping their cover intact. He successfully bluffed his way past the suspicious Jaq, claiming he needed to take the airship up to conduct vital experiments with the Emberheart.

Once aboard and ascending into the sky, the party put their plan to eliminate the remaining criminals into motion. Shep, in a moment of inspired absurdity, magically grew a palm tree on the deck, tying it down to create a makeshift catapult. He then lured Jaq into the perfect position with a fabricated story about strange initials carved into the wood. Shep released the tree, and the shocked gang leader was unceremoniously flung from the airship into the desert below. With Jaq gone, Bitoh seized the moment. In a brutal display of strength, he brought his warhammer down on the two remaining minions in quick succession, bashing both of them over the side to their doom.

The eight-hour flight back to Spire was an ordeal in itself, a skill challenge that tested the limits of the entire party. Bitoh, as the pilot, heroically wrestled with the controls, his muscles straining as he fought through cold fronts and violent storms that left him physically exhausted. Shep embraced his role as navigator, channeling his inner sea captain during a fierce storm by shouting directions from the windswept deck to guide them through the safest passage. Down below, Oren kept the engine running, though the violent turbulence left him miserably airsick and puking over the delicate machinery. Ethane, as the balloon master, expertly managed their altitude and, at one point, unleashed a jet of flame to scare away a massive flock of birds that threatened the airship’s balloons.

Their teamwork culminated in a near-flawless docking procedure back at Spire. Upon landing, they were immediately met by city guards who escorted them to the Inventor’s Guild headquarters, where an eager President Bellwether awaited them. Sticking to their story, they delivered Aldred and recounted their victory, carefully omitting any mention of the Emberheart or their foray into the forbidden engine room. Bellwether, overjoyed at the return of her “precious Zephyr” in near-mint condition, paid them a handsome reward and declared their business concluded.

The great airship heist was over, and the heroes, now wealthy and with their reputations secured, were free to once again go their separate ways.

I want to talk about generative AI this month (and probably next month too). If you didn’t already know, I’ve been working my day job in the tech sector for 20 years. I’m definitely a technology enthusiast, although generally not an early adopter (unless it’s free). So, I’ve been wanting to address gen AI for a while, but I’ve been hesitant because of just how divisive it is. But the time has come!

The Elephant in the Digital Room

Let me start with the uncomfortable truth: as a self-published author, I know that I’m directly in the crosshairs of AI development whether I like it or not. The marketplaces I sell in are already flooded with what we might politely call “low-effort content” (read AI slop). Would I have been happier if gen AI had never been invented? Quite possibly.

But here’s the reality check – the genie isn’t going back in the bottle, no matter how many strongly-worded forum posts we write. Besides, the fact that new technology creates new problems is nothing new. The solution isn’t to hope that the technology gets banned; it’s to figure out how to fix the problems with improvements, responsible usage, and actual regulations that make sense.

That’s my philosophy. Not because I’m some AI evangelist, but because ignoring reality has never been a winning strategy.

Now let’s look at the bright side.

How I Actually Use These Tools

So what does “responsible usage” look like for me? Here are some examples:

Marketing Content: I have not mastered Facebook ads, but they seem to be necessary evil #47 in the self-publishing world. AI helps me generate multiple versions of ad copy to test, which saves time and heartache. I also used Gemini to generate the image above for this newsletter. It’s not about creating heartfelt art – it’s helping with and enhancing the business grunt work.

TTRPG Session Summaries: After my group’s four-hour marathon sessions, I used to spend a few hours trying to remember what actually happened versus what we joked about, then tried to compose a summary of the game to remind us where we left off, and so that we can revisit our games for fun. I’ve published some of these on my website, if you’re curious. In the last few months, my approach has been to feed a transcript to AI to get a clean summary in minutes. It takes tweaking, but it works well. It’s not developing new creative content – it’s just organizing information that already exists. Think of it as a very patient secretary who never rolls their eyes when I ask them to explain what happened with that weird subplot involving the sentient cheese wheel.

Creative Brainstorming: When I’m stuck on a game mechanic or need to explore different approaches to a world-building problem, AI makes for a decent brainstorming partner. It doesn’t come up with brilliant ideas (let’s be honest), but it’s great at helping me explore ideas instead of staring at the dreaded blank page. It’s like having a writing buddy who never gets tired and doesn’t judge your terrible first drafts.

The key thing here is that these tools are augmenting work I’m already doing, not replacing the creative heart of it. It helps with the administrative stuff so I can focus on the parts that I actually enjoy.

Where I Draw the Line

Here’s where I get picky (and where some of you might breathe a sigh of relief): money changes everything. For my upcoming Kickstarter for The World of Kiynan – and for any other product I intend to sell – I’ve made the deliberate choice to use only human-created text and art. I’ve become a supporter of Dean Spencer on Patreon, and I’m actively seeking out other artists to collaborate with for paid products.

Do I use AI-generated images for Facebook ads or free content I give away? Sometimes, sure. Those feel different to me – they’re marketing materials or freebies, not a product someone is paying for. I’m not even saving money that I would have paid to a human, because I didn’t have that budget to begin with. But when I’m asking people to spend their hard-earned money on something, they deserve to know they’re getting human creativity and craftsmanship.

It’s partly about value and partly about ethics. When someone backs my Kickstarter or buys one of my books, they’re not just purchasing a product – they’re supporting my work as a creator and the artists I collaborate with. That feels like it should involve actual humans doing the creating, whether it’s me writing the text or talented artists bringing the worlds to life visually.

Plus, let’s be practical: our community’s creators are already getting squeezed from multiple directions. The least I can do is put my money where my mouth is and make sure that when people support my work, that support flows to other human creators too.

Moving Forward

I’m not here to convince anyone that AI is great or terrible. It just is, and I refuse to be left behind. What I am committed to is using these tools fairly and ethically, to the best of my understanding. I also think it is imperative to be transparent about how I use these tools, which is largely what this update is about. You deserve to know what you’re supporting.

I’m also committed to continuing to support human creators. The goal isn’t to replace human creativity – it’s to complement it and handle the boring stuff so there’s more time and energy for the creative work that actually matters.

And honestly? The most important thing hasn’t changed: I’m still here to create great stories and gaming content that helps people escape and have fun.

What’s your take on gen AI? What guidelines have you set for yourself?

I think I’ll return to this topic next month, including a bit about how this whole experience has been surprisingly useful in my day job too. But for now, I just wanted to put all this on the table. Thanks for reading, and as always, thanks for your continued interest and support.

Take care!

Campaign summary of Clockwork Dawn, set in the World of Kiynan (5E compatible, based on Wizard of the Coast’s SRD 5.2.1).

The party began their assault on Whisperwind Canyon at dusk, slipping past the main gate through a secret, unguarded pass revealed to them by their Valkan allies. This clever approach allowed them to emerge deep within the canyon.

They decided to use their advantageous position to ambush the main gate’s five guards from behind. The sudden, violent cacophony shattered the desert’s evening calm. Shep’s Spike Growth erupted from the sandy floor, transforming the guards’ camp into a deadly briar patch. A moment later, a vial of Oren’s corrosive acid hissed through the air, followed by a massive flame strike from Ethane that engulfed the area in a column of fire, incinerating most of the guards where they stood.

The two survivors, powerful “juicers” whose bodies twitched with the effects of potent combat stimulants, rose from the inferno with defiant roars, only to find their drug-fueled strength useless against the magical storm. Bitoh picked one off with well-aimed arrows from the shadows, and the party’s combined might quickly overwhelmed the last man.

With the gate secured, Oren briefly scouted the southern camp before the heroes turned their full attention to the northern workshop. The area was a chaotic scene of industry, containing a makeshift forge, a cluttered workbench, and an array of chemicals and smithing tools. On one side, an enormous cauldron of water bubbled violently, emitting a steady flow of steam, yet, mysteriously, no fire licked at its base.

Instead of a frontal assault, Ethane chose a path of brazen deception. Using a magical disguise to appear as one of the Serpent’s Head goons, he strode confidently into the workshop. He walked directly up to the man in charge, but his ruse was short-lived. The man, revealed to be the genius inventor Aldred of Spire himself, saw through the deception. As his minions moved in to seize the impostor, they made a fatal error, triggering Ethane’s Fiery Illusion and engulfing themselves in a violent, fiery explosion. The battle escalated in an instant as more Serpent’s Head thugs poured forth from a large tent, brandishing heavy warhammers and lobbing grenades, adding their numbers to the chaotic fray.

Just as the heroes found themselves beset on all sides, two tall figures made their dramatic entrance. The Valkan Hunters slid down the scree-covered cliff face like desert specters, their movements a stark contrast to the brawl below. With deadly precision, they launched their javelins, skewering the surprised Aldred of Spire. Ethane scorched his enemies, his magic strangely augmented by his proximity to the cauldron. In the midst of the mayhem, Bitoh saw a brutal opportunity. A powerful, crunching swing of his warhammer sent one of Aldred’s minions staggering back into the mysterious cauldron. The man’s screams were sharp, but mercifully short, quickly silenced by the boiling water.

Though wounded, Aldred of Spire fought with the fury of a cornered genius. He unleashed a devastating seismic charge which caused the ground to heave and split as the blast tore a permanent, jagged fissure in the canyon floor, sending shockwaves that threw everyone to the ground. The explosion was as callous as it was powerful, badly wounding Ethane and Bitoh while catching three of Aldred’s own men in its indiscriminate radius. He followed this with a shrapnel grenade that tore through Shep and Oren, leaving them bleeding profusely from dozens of wounds.

Shep’s powerful healing magic pulled the party’s members back from the brink of defeat. The fight reached its climax at last as the party, battered but resolute, focused all their efforts on the wounded inventor. After Oren, finding a clear line of sight amidst the chaos, landed a critical pistol shot that staggered Aldred, the inventor desperately tried to evade the party’s renewed onslaught. It was then that Bitoh, ignoring his own grievous injuries, saw his opening. He charged forward, closing the distance in a few powerful strides and, with a final, precise swing, brought his warhammer down on Aldred’s head, knocking him unconscious. With their leader captured, the remaining Serpent’s Head members dropped their weapons and surrendered, bringing the battle to a decisive end.

Campaign summary of Return to Skywall, set in the World of Kiynan (5E compatible, based on Wizard of the Coast’s SRD 5.2.1).

Returning to Haven with hard-won trophies and Tylia’s recovered documents, the companions were once again received by Mistress Kayla the Blue. They spoke of the battle at the ruins of Skywall, of Braka and Darra’s defeat, and of the empty receptacle where the Floatstone should have been. From the lore Tylia had uncovered, Kayla and her augurs pieced together a final clue: Master Cadvin the Blue had survived the fall of Skywall, and his exile had taken him far into the Endless Sea. There, in the scattered isles known as the Starkeeper’s Tears, the Floatstone might yet be found.

A vessel was prepared, and the companions sailed northward into cold waters. For weeks the voyage was uneventful—until one storm-wracked night, when the sea itself rose against them. From the depths surged the Lord of the Deep, a monstrous kraken whose colossal tentacles crashed down upon the ship.

The crew scattered in terror as the adventurers fought for their lives. Shep was nearly dragged into the sea but conjured a vast lily pad to keep himself afloat. Ethain was flung overboard, only to be hauled back by Nines, who lashed a rope around him even as another tentacle seized the boy himself. Bitoh waded into the fray with hammer and blade, hacking at the writhing limbs with reckless fury. Together, the companions severed tentacle after tentacle—until the monster, sensing its prey too fierce, recoiled. With a bellowing roar, it belched a cloud of black ink that spread across the sea and vanished into the abyss.

In the days that followed, the ship limped onward, battered but afloat. The loss of crewmates weighed heavily, yet life at sea resumed its rhythms. Ethain, never without mischief, convinced the sailors that an ordinary candlestick was a priceless treasure. The crew squabbled over it bitterly, until Nines, growing tired of the nonsense, stole it with deft hands and tossed it overboard, ending the quarrel in a single splash. Shep, steady as always, tried to turn hearts back toward calmer talk, while Bitoh brooded on the enormity of the beast they had faced.

At last, they reached the Starkeeper’s Tears, where the gnomes of the islands welcomed them and guided them inland. In a jungle clearing, the companions beheld Verletzt, last of the Lethean, an immortal giant who had kept his lonely vigil for centuries. He revealed that Cadvin the Blue and Glenda the Pink had indeed come to him long ago, bearing the Floatstone. They entrusted it to his keeping, that it might one day be returned to House Calm. Now, at last, Verletzt placed it in the hands of the adventurers, teaching them how it might be recharged with magic.

Before they departed, he led them to a shaded grove where two graves lay side by side—those of Cadvin and Glenda. There, Shep knelt and made charcoal rubbings of the gravestones, preserving the memory of their resting place.

With the Floatstone finally recovered, the companions returned to Haven. Duchess Kayla received them in triumph, vowing to raise part of her castle into the skies as Skywall once soared. She offered them gold and honors, but more than that, she spoke of eternal gratitude, their names forever bound to the rebirth of House Calm.

Thus their quest was fulfilled: forged in tavern laughter, tested in flame, shadow, and storm, Bitoh, Shep, Nines, and Ethain returned not only as adventurers, but as legends.

Campaign summary of Return to Skywall, set in the World of Kiynan (5E compatible, based on Wizard of the Coast’s SRD 5.2.1).

The trading vessel Tylia had secured bore the companions along the desolate shores of the Shrouded Sea, its crew muttering uneasily of the cursed waters. With each passing day, the adventurers drew closer to the place where the floating fortress of Skywall had once soared, centuries ago.

Their search began in fishing villages clinging to the coast, where weather-worn huts whispered of ages past. It was Nines, sharp-eyed and quick to notice what others missed, who discerned that some dwellings had been built with stone not quarried from the earth, but scavenged from the wreckage of Skywall itself. A local builder pointed them toward a quarry further inland, though Shep, speaking with birds and beasts, discovered a truer lead. Guided by feathered scouts, he located a crater deep in the wilds where the ruins lay buried beneath centuries of overgrowth.

Within the crater, the companions found the shattered bones of Skywall: toppled towers, crumbled battlements, and a strange circular foundation where once the Floatstone had been housed. The receptacle lay empty, its veins of silvery alloy stretching outward like broken veins. Someone had removed the relic long ago—or perhaps their rivals had come before them.

It was then their enemies struck. Braka the Mauve returned, no longer alone: beside him stood Darra the Orange, a rogue thaumaturge cloaked in shimmering magic, with a thrane and skivers at their back. They demanded the Floatstone, accusing the party of seizing it first. When words failed, steel and sorcery followed.

The battle was brutal. Ethain conjured a blazing wall of fire, searing the battlefield and cutting off skivers that lunged through smoke. Nines released an impenetrable cloud of smoke from his magic bottle. Then, hidden within the smoke, he struck with precision—bombs, blades, and arrows all finding their marks as he dueled in deadly tandem with Bitoh. The warrior leapt high, hammer and blade crashing down, eviscerating the thrane in a storm of blood. Shep, calling on the might of earth and plant, raised spike growths beneath their foes, ensnaring them in thorns while sustaining his allies with healing prayers.

Braka fell beneath their combined fury, his body decapitated by Bitoh, who bore the grisly trophy as proof of their victory. Darra fought fiercely, striking with blade and poison, but at last Nines and Bitoh brought her down together. She was bound for questioning, though not for long—after a grim interrogation, she was executed, her fate sealed as swiftly as her appearance.

From their fallen foes, they reclaimed Tylia’s stolen documents and other spoils: enchanted oil, goggles for piercing the dark, and more besides. Yet the true prize eluded them still. The Floatstone was gone, its absence a mystery more troubling than the enemies they had slain.

At a fishing village nearby, Bitoh purchased a humble vessel, christening it Friends Forever. For one brief night, the companions rested, drank, and caroused, though their laughter carried the edge of exhaustion. They had won a battle, but the war for the skies was not yet over.

Campaign summary of Return to Skywall, set in the World of Kiynan (5E compatible, based on Wizard of the Coast’s SRD 5.2.1).

The Pride of Freshwater bore the companions as far as Lament, where they disembarked beneath the brooding stronghold of House Despair. A novice in grey led them through towering doors into the monastery’s Long Room, where Mistress Tylia the Grey awaited. Laden with scrolls and ancient maps, she shared what she had uncovered: fragments of lore pointing toward the Shrouded Sea, where the ruins of Skywall may still lie. She spoke of the Floatstone, once the heart of Skywall’s flight, and hinted that Master Cadvin the Blue might have survived the catastrophe centuries ago.

Their council was cut short by alarm. Tylia’s eyes clouded in ghostly communion, then snapped open with dread: the monastery was under attack. From the front gates surged Braka the Mauve, a rogue conjurer, with skeletons rattling at his side, skivers prowling the shadows, and shrieking imps smashing through windows.

The companions fought desperately to hold the line. Ethain conjured fireballs and flaming illusions that burned enemies to ash. Nines darted among the chaos, hurling bombs that blasted apart bone and hide before striking deep at Braka himself. Bitoh thundered forward, his hammer swinging in mighty arcs, only to be seized and torn by the spectral claws of Braka’s Spirit Guardians, dragged to the brink of death. Shep, calling on every reserve of strength, poured out healing magic, restoring allies and rallying defenders who would otherwise have fallen. Together, their fury broke Braka’s resolve, and with a snarl, he vanished in a shimmer of sorcery, leaving only ruin behind.

When the fighting ended, the monastery stood bloodied but unbroken. Yet victory was bitter: the ancient documents Tylia had gathered were gone, stolen under cover of battle. Their rivals were surely pursuing the Floatstone as well.

In the quiet aftermath, Tylia met with them again. At Bitoh’s request, she promised to look into the fate of Metathiax the Red, the apostate Bitoh had once pursued. Though she offered no answers yet, Bitoh clung to the hope that her divinations might reveal more in time.

Tylia then arranged new passage aboard a trading vessel that would brave the haunted coast of the Shrouded Sea, where Skywall’s ruins might lie.

Aboard the ship, grief weighed heavy after the bloody defense. Yet sorrow gave way to firelight and music. Ethain conjured mirages of seduction, drawing the sailors into wild revelry. Shep, ever the balance, joined the festivities but tempered the excess. Nines, never without mischief, scattered smoke and laughter, while Bitoh, scarred but alive, brooded on his fragile memories, uncertain of what truths Tylia might uncover.

The night ended in strange camaraderie. Ahead lay the shattered bones of Skywall—and the rivals who sought the Floatstone’s power for themselves.

Campaign summary of Return to Skywall, set in the World of Kiynan (5E compatible, based on Wizard of the Coast’s SRD 5.2.1).

The adventurers boarded the merchant vessel Pride of Freshwater, setting sail eastward from Haven with the salt wind at their backs. Days at sea revealed much of their character. Nines, ever restless, tinkered with stolen powders and fuses, hurling makeshift bombs overboard and making the crew more nervous than any storm could. Shep, far more at ease, found joy among dolphins and seabirds, laughing with sailors and befriending even the ship’s deckhands. Ethain wasted no time in turning his charm upon Syrah, a comely crewmember who soon spent as much time in his quarters as on her duties. Bitoh, discovering a surprising knack for the sea, lent his brawn where needed, and together with Shep founded an impromptu fight club below decks—an outlet for restless fists and louder wagers.

Cards, laughter, and music filled the voyage, but the sea is never so kind for long. Black sails rose on the horizon, cutting swiftly across the waves. A pirate ship closed in, bristling with mercenaries and raiders. The alarm rang out, and the Pride of Freshwater’s crew scrambled below, leaving the adventurers alone to face the onslaught.

The battle was fierce and fiery. Ethain unleashed fireballs that tore through the enemy ship, reducing pirate crews to cinders, and conjured illusions so convincing that enemies who touched them erupted in flame. Nines, exhilarated, darted among foes with knife and bow, hurling bombs into clusters of raiders. Bitoh thundered across the deck, his hammer smashing skulls and finally caving in the pirate captain’s chest in a blow that broke the enemy’s resolve. Shep, ever steady, called upon healing magics, mending wounds as fast as they were dealt, and keeping his companions from being overwhelmed. At last, with their captain slain and their ship aflame, the pirates surrendered.

When the deck was quiet once more, Nines eagerly searched the bodies and locked chests, claiming an eversmoking bottle for himself. Other treasures were divided among the party, with Ethain discovering a flamboyant purple velvet outfit that seemed almost tailor-made for his vanity, while Bitoh took possession of a suit of armor.

At White Tower, the companions disembarked briefly. There, they handed the surviving pirate prisoners over to the authorities, ensuring justice would be carried out. Rejoining the Pride of Freshwater, they sailed on toward Blood Fort.

At Blood Fort, the past came knocking. Among the crowds, Bitoh recognized and approached Daram the Red, another warlock of House Fury. Daram revealed that Bitoh is considered a rogue magician, marked for having departed with Metathiax the Red, another apostate from House Fury. The revelation pierced Bitoh’s fog: he remembered leaving Ornland to find Metathiax, desperate to redeem him. He recalled following his old companion into a cavern in the Gilded Heights—then nothing, only the shroud of amnesia.

With Bitoh’s identity exposed, guards and others moved to seize him. In that tense moment, Nines leapt to action, scattering a smoke bomb and raising a ruckus that bought the party precious seconds. Under cover of confusion, they slipped away and fled back to their ship.

The Pride of Freshwater wasted no time leaving Blood Fort behind, bearing them onward to their true destination: the somber stronghold of Lament.