The Tomb of Fire and Ash
A one page adventure for your favorite RPG system
Recently Mage Advice published The Dungeon Shuffle, a trifold pamphlet dungeon creation tool, and invited people to participate in a one-page Dungeon Shuffle jam to spread the news.
Obviously, I couldn’t say no to try out a new dungeon-building tool, so below you’ll find a one-page dungeon adventure titled The Tomb of Fire and Ash.
The first step in using The Dungeon Shuffle is rolling a d12 to determine your dungeon’s theme. I rolled an 8, corresponding to a dragonic dungeon. A full-blown dragon seemed too powerful for what I had in mind, but what about kobolds or dragonborn?
Soon an idea emerged, a tribe of kobolds has taken up residence in the outer chambers of a long-forgotten tomb, once belonging to the ancient dragonborn warlord Vargan Drakhaal, Bringer of Fire and Ash. While traveling through a remote mountain pass, the adventurers stumble upon a caravan of refugees that’s just been raided by the kobolds. The survivors beg the PCs to bring back their stolen valuables, drawing the party into the adventure.
But before we get to the map of the dungeon, let’s set the scene with a short story.
Garrick carried Mina on his back, her arms hanging limp around his shoulders. The wind was sharp this high in the mountains, and he could feel her small body shivering through his coat.
Each step crunched in the dust, his legs aching from days of travel. Behind him, the ragged line of families shuffled forward, farmers, widows, children with hollow cheeks. They’d sold everything for a chance at a new beginning.
“Just a few more miles,” he said. “everything will be better as soon as we cross the ridge.”
He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Mina or himself, but he had to believe it was better on the other side.
“Is mama there?” Mina asked as they passed below a crumbled statue of a dragonborn in full armor and a heavy sword.
“Mama is in Heaven,” he muttered, tightening his grip on her legs. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”
But his promise was cut short by sharp yelps from the mountains. Like barking dogs, but shrill and wrong. Shadows burst from the rocks, small, twisted figures with crude blades and snarling teeth. Kobolds.
Screams tore through the cold air. A wagon overturned. Garrick slipped, cradling his daughter as steel flashed past his face. He scrambled behind the statue, heart pounding.
A woman begged for mercy.
A child screamed once, then stopped.
Then silence.
The kobolds vanished into the mountains, dragging sacks and satchels behind them. Garrick stared up at the clouds, a tear running down his cheek. It had to be better on the other side.
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