The Red Frontier and The Old Bastard

 

Red Frontier

The Red Frontier. A vast wilderness made of lost kingdoms. Viscous barbarians. Eldritch Magic. Of the forgotten and unknown. A new world with a very ancient past. But a land where many are willing to risk all. For fame, glory, riches, and life itself. Many have tried to claim The Red Frontier for themselves, but it's has always proven to be unconquerable. And it always pays back in blood and death. Will you risk you're life, dare everything, to leave your mark? To make a name for yourself? Will you pay the blood price the Red Frontier demands? Meet your fate or ride to your doom!

The Old Bastard

Long ago, before the First Cataclysm claimed the entire Red Frontier and expelling the early colonies of the old world, there was Oggac, bastard son of king Oggar, who became a curse upon the land. Banditry, pirating, kin slaying, debaucheries, devil worshiper, and with many other foul deeds to his name, he began to build a keep to hoard his vast ill-gotten wealth and his brides. Instead of a large castle atop a hill, he built it within and under a large hill within the foothills of the mountain range, The Devil’s Spine. He used slaves, including dwarves and savages, and even foul magic to complete this task. Once the First Cataclysm swept over all the land, he retreated into his keep. Hidden within a strange hill, and behind a dragon’s eye, The Bastard’s Keep Oggac called it. After a few hundred years have passed, the old countries began to reestablish a foothold in the Red Frontier. And some remembered the vile legends of the bastard Oggac and his Keep. And some began to search for his fabled keep. None returned. The natives along with new comers began to call it something else, something that fitted it’s mythic and now infamous status: The Old Bastard.

But time moves on, and recently a party was sent out by the old trailblazer Rotho of Pottsfort. A month later only one survivor from that party came back. A man half naked, with horrible scars, and whose sanity was lost. The man rambled on about coming to hollow whose floor shimmered and then disappeared. Of finding a large cavern through the roots of trees on a side of a strange, large hill at the end of hollow. He drew a map with vague directions to the Old Bastard at Rotho’s insistence. And the poor soul soon killed himself that same night. Rotho sent out another team. This time they arrived back, in whole, and with treasure in tow. Now Rotho is calling in for more help to map out the area, and to map the lost keep. Will you accept the call and risk death, or will you stay home, safe and regretting you could have made a name for yourself?