The First Adventure of Sir Garran of Thunderbluff
(Solo RPG Session Report + stress-test of my lite-rpg)
(Played with my homebrew RPG system, using the Mythic GM Emulator and a few random tables inspired by Ironsworn. Character and place names were generated using an online fantasy name generator — except Thunderbluff, which, yes, is a loving nod to the World of Warcraft franchise.)
I re-write the adventures notes without rolls and oracles for the pleasure of narrating something. I divided the thing in small chapters. And yes, i'm writing in english now hehe.
A Bad Idea: The Hydra Hunt
I finally took my 1D6 RPG for a solo spin with my Level 1 hero: Sir Garran of Thunderbluff — swordsman, part-time mercenary, full-time disaster.
Armed with sword, shield, a cracked spear-torch (flammable tip) given by a farmer, 2 potions, and reckless courage, Garran set out to prove his worth.
SOLO rules apply: more HP and 1 additional proficiency.
He began his career the way all great heroes do — terrified, alone, and face-to-face with a three-headed hydra terrifying the village of Steamhaven.
Villagers followed him just to the Thermal swamp’s edge, shouting wisdom like:
“Use fire against that thing!”
“If it eats you, count to ten — you’ll feel less pain!”
“I don’t like hydras” Garran muttered, gripping his torch-spear.
He tracked the beast (miraculously succeeding an INT roll), found it snoring in the muck, lit his spear, and leapt from a stone pillar, yelling something vaguely knightly.
He landed a solid hit — fire and all — before spending the next few minutes being chewed, slapped, and head-butted like a chew toy by three enraged heads. In 4-5 rounds Sir Garran fell to -exactly- 1HP. Ehm...RUN? Dex check to avoid damage and flee succeeded. Otherwise the adventure never happened.
When he finally escaped, more dead than alive and covered in swamp and hydra's goo, Garran stumbled back to the village with the villagers, limping and cursing at every step with "the boys" asking how the hydra died. "F you all guys!" she thought, said and screamed more than once.
After a night of rest he demanded a reward for “trying heroically,” and the mayor — a genius among men — offered him 2 gold pieces and a pat on its shoulder.
So the next morning, Garran limped away from Steamhaven, muttering,
“Ah, the good ol’ days of smaller, LV1 enemies…”
To Ravenford
His journey took him to Ravenford, a cute town of work and gossip, 1 day West from Steamhaven.
At the blacksmith’s, Garran met Brom, a broad-shouldered man with a beard full of sparks.
“Mornin’, sir,” said Brom.
“Know anything about this one?” Garran asked, pointing at a quest notice signed Lady Marwen.
“Aye,” said Brom. “Goblins near the old mill ruins. They love traps and stealing coins off adventurers and unfortunate hikers. Watch yourself if you accept.”
“Coin’s not an issue,” Garran grinned, jangling two pathetic gold pieces. “See? Nothing to steal.”
Brom chuckled and handed over a rough map marked with an X. “You’ve got guts, lad. Or no sense. Hard to tell which. You don't have to pay for this.” Garran reply "Thanks sir, gods bless you"
Lady Marwen and Her... Charms
Following Brom’s directions, Garran arrived at Lady Marwen’s estate — all perfume, lace curtains, and mild disapproval: a steward opens the door "You are?" "Garran of Thunderbluff, i'm here for the...ring thing". The steward, raising a brow invite Garran to enter.
“Oh, please, sir, come in and sit… or stand, if you prefer,” she said with a nervous voice. “I imagine knights prefer to stand.”
“I’m no knight, milady,” Garran replied with a grin. “Just a man with strong arms, weak sense of risk, and a need for coin. Tell me about that ring — and call me Garran.”
“The ring is sentimental,” she explained. “I was near the old mill, hiking, when goblins attacked. I dropped a sack of money and the ring fell in a ditch in the attempt. If you find it i'll pay you with 10gp as the notice says."
“Ten gold for a fetch quest is fine,” Garran said, lowering his voice. “But if this turns into a full investigation… it's twenty gold and a favor.”
He glanced at her chest. “A personal favor.”
She frowned in that noble way that says both offended and pleased.
“This letter of recommendation will be the only favor you receive, Sir Garran.”
“Deal, mistress,” he growled under his breath. Leaving the house hitting the steward with his shoulder.
The Old Mill Ruins
The ruins were quiet — too quiet. Garran searched the ditch, cursing and stomping succeeded at spotting the ring, glinting among the roots.
But something felt off. "Goblins love traps!" You find what you looking for if you search enough. And there it is, a trap: rudimental. Rope, knots and branches.
Initiative: Garran won.
Action: Charged the archer. Missed. Rerolled (thank you class skill). Hit. Goblin down.
The second goblin lunged, but Garran smashed his shield into its face and ended it with a clean strike.
Victorious but tired, he looked down at the corpses. Inspiration struck.
He sliced off one goblin’s hand, cleaned it with the other’s ragged cloak, and slid Lady Marwen’s ring onto its finger.
“A gift fit for a lady,” he muttered proudly.
He wrapped the hand, stuffed it in his bag, and delayed his return just long enough to make it look like a thorough investigation.
A Hand for a Lady...
When Lady Marwen opened her door, Garran tossed the package onto her tea table.
“Milady, your ring has been found.”“Splendid!” she smiled — until he unwrapped the goblin hand.“What in the—”“Don’t worry,” Garran interrupted. “It’s clean. Mostly. A proof your lands are safer and my body experienced struggle. And look — the ring’s intact!”
Garran almost passed the intimidation check. Almost!!! Pfff.
After a few nervous laughs (hers) and a grin (his), she handed him 10 gold and her letter of recommendation — perhaps hoping to send him far, far away.
“Given the circumstances, the job didn’t take too long,” Lady Marwen said, adjusting her gloves with an air of grace —dotted with disgust, that could slice glass. “So, just to be a person of valor, I give you this recommendation as a Plus to your reward.”
“Milady,” Garran bowed, “I’ll treasure both the letter and the memory of our… two meetings.”
...A Hand for the Mayor
Next stop: the mayor’s office. Garran swaggered in and dropped the wrapped hand right on the desk.
“My duty to your fine town told me to clean its streets,” Garran declared. “Two goblins, gone. No reward expected… but if you insist—”
“Is that… a hand?” the mayor stammered.
“A clean one,” Garran nodded. “Comes with a letter from Lady Marwen herself. Says I’m a professional.”
Too polite to scream, the mayor merely grimaced, slipped three gold coins across the desk, and muttered something about “keeping him in mind for future jobs.” With a forced smile and a dismissive wave toward the door, he invited Garran to leave. Garran took it as genuine praise, grinning as if he’d just been knighted.
Ale, Sausage, and Dreams
That night, Garran bought a meal and a bed at the inn (cost: 2 gold).
He raised his mug and toasted the empty room:
“To goblins! Oh, and yes, to hydras that can stay right where they are!”
Then he passed out snoring on the floor, dreaming of Lady Marwen’s bosom and the day he might finally be paid what he’s worth.
END OF SESSION
XP Gained: 15XP from failing the hydra to the Marwen quest. Enough to remember to never fight hydras alone again.
Loot and stuff: 13 GP total, a mayor’s half-promise, and a good blacksmith as a 'friend' in town.
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