Down in a Hole...

Two days of hard riding left them at camp by the river at night. It was cold, but a fire would attract the wrong sorts. Odess, the moon, hid behind the clouds, and it was on Gustav's watch that something moved in the dark.

There was a splashing in the river. He could only see a dark shape, set against the dark of the river. It was large. This close to the bridge, it could be Ol' Nik, come collect his toll.

Gustav woke the others as quietly as he could, but by the time they were roused, whatever it was, was gone.

Trekking east along the southern bank of the river that morning, they found the ford. The hornet creatures were already up, busy doing whatever they did. The group crossed without incident, but this time, bows were trained on the far bank whenever someone crossed. They couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

Across the river, they built a small fire, enough to dry a bit, and look at the newly acquired map. The "circle" was to the northeast. Uncharted territory. Hills were the common feature here. Lots of places to hide, and ambush. They moved a little slower than usual, constantly on the lookout for danger.

The hills grew steeper, and steeper, and more broken. Finally at the top of a bluff they found what they sought. It was a very unassuming spot, for a place of legend and fear. A circle of mortared stones, 3 feet high sat like a strange well, out in the middle of nowhere. Spikes, grapples and irons were rusting away in a circle all around. Many, it seems, had climbed into the well.

About twenty yards from the hole, the bluff abruptly ended. Far, far below the river made its way through the hills. A fall from here was surely fatal.

There was much debate on who should go first. The hole itself was tight for the Men of the group. All eyes finally ended up on Miss Adventure. She threw down the stale loaf of bread she had been chewing on, with an "All right."

A new iron spike was set, and a new rope lowered into the depths, with diminutive halfling attached. She went down, and down, until almost the entire fifty feet of rope was used. It was then Miss Adventure was able to see in the dark, the top most stair of winding spiral staircase. It was just in reach. Her toe could almost make touch it...

"It's okay!" she shouted, "I found some stairs!"

Those up above winched as her shout echoed up the well, and surely everywhere else in the depths.

Miss Adventure heard a hiss, then squeal below her. At the very bottom of the steps was a hole. A small creature held an arm up to protect itself from the few rays of sun filtering down. Beedy red eyes glared at the halfling. A goblin!

Interlude: On Running the Sandbox

I don't usually like to interrupt the narrative, but Eli asked me about how I run the world that is Beyond the Wall. There are a ton of sites out there with probably better advice than I, about running OD&D games, but here goes:
Despite the fact that some of my best games have been run totally on the fly, ad libbing as I go (the kobold village was completely done, then I left it at work and had to make the whole thing up), preparation is key. Have your world ready, and then it's a matter of the PCs just going there. If they decide to left to the old tower, the tower's done. If they go right on the road, the old marsh is already stocked. Throw in random encounters (Logun was just rolled up, but instead of a werewolf just attacking the party, I had him appear in human guise, and halfway helpful).
I started with an idea, which BTW isn't really that original, of a world for the most part civilized, but beyond a certain point, the world was still wild and untamed. A little of the wild west mixed with Hadrian's wall. I've run a still floating-in-the-aether narrative campaign. It's completely frozen because too many members have a hard time meeting at the same time. The story is too ingrained in the membership to just drop one out. This began my interest in the sandbox. I wanted anyone to be able to play whenever. My kids want a quick session? Done. This website was set up, mostly as a way for those that might have missed a session to still keep up with what's been explored, who's doing what, etc. Players can come and go to the world as they please.
In my mind, too much time can be wasted screwing around in town, talking to PCs. For my games, Wall is where the adventure stops and ends. The world of Wall is there, the blog and descriptions from me are there so the PCS have place in their minds, but interaction is limited, unless it has to do with a adventure hook.
To wit, RUMORS. Both on the blog and in the Hole are rumors. These are story hooks to get the characters out Beyond the Wall. They can use them or not. The Well of Souls was just a rumor. The PCs had no idea where it was, til they found a map dropped by a bandit. Again, they could have just not gone there and ignored the map. You have to be prepared for that.
Back to the idea of Wall for a moment. I started with a rough map. I put it on the cover of my spiral notebook. It's 8 squares by squares. I decided each square was a hard days ride in good weather to cross. No scale. PCs don't know miles, they just know the narrative. "A day has passed, it's noon", etc. The squares are numbered A-1, A-2....I blew up each square and made a hex map 8 hexes by 8 hexes. Each takes about an hour to cross. This works for two reasons. 1-You check for encounters every hour, so each hex. 2- Helps me keep tract of time. And it's not so big an area you'll miss something
 If you think about the traditional D&D sense of each hex size. Go walk into some local woods by your house. Even a in a small forest, you could walk for hours, but still walk right past the goblin encampment.
In each of these hex maps I've got 4-5 places of interest spread across it.. Normally I just make a little picture of a tree or a castle, then come up with some menacing name to match. These get put in the notebook. Then I start writing the info about each. Some are just quick little scenarios, some are huge modules in themselves. These get put in the notebook behind the relevant page. Now, repeat.
The area immediately outside wall are 1st level, then I fan out from there getting increasingly harder. So the farther they go, the harder it gets. There are pockets within that are harder, and some easier. Ol Nik, is a heavy creature in what is mostly a 1st level area. I use stuff from wherever I can find it. The current dungeon I found online, but tweaked to fit.
I by no means have the whole world  done either. I have what I think the characters will explore in the immediate future done, but that's it. Hidden within all these random events/encounters is, I have to say, an overarching story that is slowly unfolding. The characters have little snippits here and there, but not the whole story.
Now, as far as DMing it goes I have some rules.
-Don't railroad. Part of having a complete world, is for them to explore, or not.
-Allow the dice to decide. Some of my best stories have sprung from random rolls. I also usually give everyone a second chance, but that's it. Dimzad was played by a somewhat reckless youth, and eventually he paid for it. His sacrifice allowed everybody to realize, they were mortal. That one death in the party has transformed how everyone plays now.
-Don't over think it. This ain't Lord of the Rings. It supposed to be fun, not homework.
-Embrace your inner 12-year-old. What would you like to have done/seen/fought.
Since I started it, it has been a blast. Our group ranges from 9 to way, way older than 9.
I rambled a bit, but hope that helped. I don't want to turn this into a blog about DMing styles, but if have a question you throw it my way.
I'm toying with the idea of letting others outside my group run around but haven't found a convenient to do it.

Into the Beyond Once More

The night before their departure, the adventurers gathered at the Hole to pour over their new map and gather intelligence. Most wanted to make for the strange circle on map, hoping it was the rumored Well of Souls. They were also fairly sure the "X" was not treasure, but the location of the infamous Bandit King. Gustav was obsessed with finding Lake Merr, but the others voted him down.
It was bitterly cold outside. No snow, but one of those nights where the air burns your skin it's so chilly. So it was no wonder many were packed in the warm, loud tavern. Bits of conversations could be heard.
"...they say the Underguard caught 5 gobbos in basement below warehouse district. Heard the little buggers put up quite a fight..."
"...torches, right out on the Old Trade Road in front of the gates. Whenever the Watch go to investigate, they're gone...."
Tancred, the aging veteran barkeep brought the party ale himself. This was odd, as he hardly ever left the sanctity of his bar. As he handed the group their refreshments, he spoke low and to no one in particular, "You folks watch yerselves out there tomorrah. Strangers been askin' bout cha. I was tight lipped bout yer comings and goins', but not everybody else has."
The party shot glances around the room to catch some one giving them a look, but no one seemed suspicious.
The next morning, the party gathered outside the gate. The cold kept most inside, but a few well-wishers and gawkers showed to see them off. The guards were making their usual side bets on who would return from the group. Gates opened, they were on their way.
The wind across the rolling hills was brutal. When they reached the small valley that held Newly's tree they stopped. It was a break from the cold, but a chance to gather information, if the dryad so chose.
"Newly!," Miss Adventure shouted.
A slumped, gray, shriveled old woman appeared. Her skin was the same shade as the great oak. Twigs and dead leaves were trapped in the tangled mess that was her white hair. Her eyes were a pupil-less black.

"Eh? Who's there?, she asked.
"It's us, Newly. Your friends," was Miss Adventure's answer. The dryad just stared.
After a long, uncomfortable pause she spoke. "Who's this one then?" Her arm, looking like an old tree branch, pointed at Gustav. The young cleric simply grunted and gave her a disdainful glare.
Newly spoke again, "I see much blood about this one. Much darkness, and much potential."
Each of the group gave Gustav a look. Newly had never been one for prophecy before. It was odd statement.
"Newly," Gruffydd began, "do you have any news for us? Has any one been by here? Men with torches?"
The old dryad started walking back to her tree. "The comings and goings of Men are no concern to me." With that she disappeared.
"A girl in the Spring," Laramine said. "An old hag in the Winter?"
"We really need to show up about Summer," Gruffydd laughed.

A New Adventure, a New Friend

Barely a week had past since our intrepid party had returned from the ruins of the lost village, when they decided it was time for another shot at fame and fortune. They had not recovered much loot, and finances were running low. It was decided that adding a cleric to their ranks might increase their chances of survival. A holy man could heal their wounds and maybe their luck. It was only a few days after nailing a posting to tree outside the Hole, that a cleric appeared. He was young, but full of vigor, and scrapping for a fight. The Lost lands Beyond the Wall were in need of some Religion, and Gustav was the boy, err man to do it.

Gustav had survived a great cataclysm, he said, but was tight lipped about which one. His god was great and powerful, but a again vague, about who they were. He carried a great two handed flail. With this he would vanquish the impure, and spread the Word.

The Way Back

After emerging from the kobold caves, the party found their horses gone. They had wandered off, or had been taken. No one knew which, they just knew it would be a long walk home. They were packing their things, preparing for said walk, when a mounted figure appeared on the road from the south.
It was Gruffydd. "Can't go that way," he said. "Nasty troll guarding the bridge."
"I think we can figure our way back to the ford," Laramine spoke up, hefting the magical mace. It was decided he was best suited for it's wielding. "It can't be that hard. Find the river, and follow it east."
Indeed, the river was easy enough to find, but it was nightfall before they reached it. It was to be a cold camp. No fire tonight.
As the temperature dropped, so did spirits. It had been a dangerous trek, with little to show but a dead comrade, and a few bits of treasure. During Miss Adventure's watch, lights appeared in the west. There were at least a dozen. Maybe torches, moving fast south towards the bridge, which was barely in sight around the river's bend.
The halfling woke the rest of the party quietly, and pointed at the torches. There were mounted figures on the bridge. They stopped for a few moments, then headed south along the road toward Wall. The party watched silently. No one would sleep the rest of the night.
With little rest and a few mouthfuls of stale food, the group headed for the ford at sunrise. They heard the low hum of the hornet-men before they saw the ruined tower. A few of the creatures were flitting across the top of river, snatching fish up as they went and returning to their hive. When they reached the tower, the hornet men seemed to ignore the party, going about whatever it was they did.

Gildrid splahed into the river, "I'll go first."
"At least..."Gruffydd started, but the elf was out of earshot,"...take a rope"
 Gruffydd follwed into the river and was behind him a ways, when the group spotted the riders. Gildrid was on the far bank, emptying his boots of water when three Men on horseback emerged from the trees lining the river. All were clad in leather mail and wore black hoods. Gildrid had his back to them, and one rider was raising a crossbow.
Gruffydd tried to shout a warning along with the rest of the party as they all started splashing across at once. The water was too loud. Gildrid saw their waving arms, and waved back, oblivious to the danger.
The rider loosed his bolt. It missed, but hit the elf's cloak, pinning it to the ground. Gildrid spun around in time to see a battle ax slam into his head as a rider flew by.
He circled his horse, ready to finish the stunned elf, when Gruffydd buried  his own crossbow bolt into the rider. Another rode out to face Gruffydd while the one with crossbow reloaded. The injured rider took another swing at Gildrid and dropped him.
Nemon's thrown dagger caught the crossbow wielding rider in the neck. The hooded man fell from his saddle. Gruffydd crushed the leg of his own foe with a swing of his hammer. He too, fell from the saddle. Another blow from the dwarf, and rider was still.
As the rest of party came up the bank, the wounded rides departed in haste. He disappeared into the woods. Immediately, Laramine grabbed a spare horse and donning one of hoods snatched from one the bodies rode after in pursuit.
They party took stock of the situation. Gildrid was down, unmoving. There was a great gash beneath his crushed helmet. His breath was shallow. "Great, he;s dead again," Miss Adventure said as she plopped down beside him. She forced open Gildrid's mouth and began pouring healing draughts offered up by the group.
Gruffydd and Nemon examined the bodies of the riders. Their hoods were black sack cloth, similar to those put over the heads of men bound for the gallows. Holes had been roughly cut out to see, and indeed, a hangman's noose held their hoods on. The men themselves were skinny, bordering on malnutrition. Their leather armor and weapons were plain, well used, but in good condition. The party found a few coins, but more importantly, found a map.
It showed they immediate area to north of Wall. Few maps existed of the Fallen Lands. This one seemed to made by hand on rough lambskin, probably by the hand of one of the dead men. A strange circle was marked on an area close to their location, but it was judged best to head for Wall and investigate later.
As the party readied themselves again, and rounded up their new mounts, Laramine appeared.
"He was too fast. Besides, I'm a mariner, not horseman."
The rest of journey to Wall was cold and uneventful, but the party kept a watch over their shoulders the whole way.

Ol' Nik

Trolls, are a sinister, clever, sadistic lot. They survive on the fringes of civilization, carving out little territories where they can. Trolls are tough. Only fire or magic seems to really hurt them, so one would think they would be bold creatures, unafraid of danger. But they are few, with an almost nonexistent birthrate. Male trolls tend eat what few children they have, as they see them as a threat to their territory. Cowards at heart, trolls only become bold when they see an opportunity. One such opportunity exists at the only known bridge across the Black River, Beyond the Wall.
Guarding this bridge is Ol' Nik. Know one is sure of his age, he has been at the bridge since the Great Collapse. Traders and surrounding surviving communities just became accustomed to "paying the toll" to Nik and for a time, his brother Klem. It's unusual for two male trolls to coexist in the same territory, but these two were formidable foes to any who tried clear the bridge of them. Many an armed group of peasants or traders had enough and made a run at the trolls. The result was usually quick and messy.
Klem has not been seen, however, for over 20 years, although Ol' Nik can still be heard talking to him. Tancred, barkeep at the Hole, has hinted that he is cause of Klem's disappearance.
For now, Ol' Nik still guards the bridge over the Black, extracting whatever he can from the few survivors Beyond the Wall. He takes gold, food, or the occasional lone traveller. Ol' Nik can the dumb old bridge troll when he needs to, but he should not be underestimated. He is a cold, calculating, survivor with quick talons and a sharp mind. And even sharper teeth....

Giants

Giants have been a feature of the lands Beyond the Wall, since before the wall was built, or the Empire itself. Calling themselves the Children of the Fallen, giants claim their descent from the Elder Times when demons and gods walked the world. Giants seem a bit cloudy on which group they can call their parents, but most agree they are not the race they once were.
Giants were both a nuisance and gift during the Empire's Golden Age. Settlements could just as easily been both prey to giants, or protected by them, depending on the creature in question.
The most commonly encountered giant Beyond the Wall seems to be either the Hill or Mountain variety. Neither is particularly bright, or evil for that matter, but they are easily tricked or bribed into vile acts by darker souls. They are greedy, however, and fond of drink, much like the dwarves they have been known join in battle. Indeed, dwarvish and giant are similar languages, a fact which dwarves tend to gloss over.
All of the Great Incursions have included giants in their armies; their great strength used to tear large sections of Wall down. The creatures are usually countered by the garrison by lobbing huge casks of ale or sheep into the giant's ranks. Once drunk, the giants tend to wander off to sleep.
Giants tend to stick to the highlands, but lack of food and stronger forces have been driving them more into the lowlands Beyond the Wall. Adventurers be wary when a long shadow passes their way.