This is part of a series of posts with a scene-by-scene critique, appreciation, and improvement of the 1986 TSR module B10, Night's Dark Terror.
There's no downside in adopting the rules-as-written travel rates and having two or three days pass between the river ambush and the next encounter at Misha's Ferry. The upside is that it gives the party more time to rest and recover, which in B/X D&D is necessary given the absolutely punishing hit point recovery rules that were somehow left out of the rulebook but are spelled out in this module, on pull-out sheet 1. For each day spent resting you get ... one hit point back. Practically, this elevates the cleric to a must-have class in the party, with their ability to throw out a still-miserly one or two Cure spells a day (but none at first level!)
Rules-as-written, this is another reason why this module may be too hard for 2nd level Basic D&D characters - the players are soon to be thrown into a gauntlet of encounter after tough encounter without the luxury of several days to rest up fully in between them. You may want to adopt my 52 Pages house rule that characters gain 1 hit point per level from a night's rest, and add that they gain a similar amount from resting all day. Fifth edition, of course, is a more forgiving game, and the encounters as written are much more survivable for a 2nd or 3rd level party in that system.
When the boat reaches the ferry, the emotional and moral depth of the module starts to show. Players who arrived here through the Mentzer Basic set will have already dealt with tragedy in the example game as they see the beloved Aleena fall to evil Bargle. Even though the Basic D&D family had a reputation as being for kiddies, by the mid-80's it joined the Dragonlance trend to present plotted stories that engaged players' feelings, of which B10 is a very good example. No, the 80's did not shy away from heartbreak in fantasy for the sake of the children! Now we're about to get to the tragic streak that runs through the first third of Night's Dark Terror.
Kalanos drops you off at the ferry and gives you directions to make your way inland to Sukiskyn, Stefan's homestead. If they've been helping to row, your party members might be crucial to the boat's progress against the current. But it's also not the end of the world if Kalanos gets to Ilyakana, only nine miles upriver, a little late. The ferry lies on a trade route, and Misha the druid is not around to operate it ("probably just off hunting!" says Kalanos). So, you can also have some vagabonds waiting at the north side of the ferry who will take a short-term rowing job, or even some replacement PC's, as I mentioned last time. And, as we're not necessarily following the same schedule that puts this event at "late afternoon," Kalanos would logically park the boat at the ferry if it's sunset or after dark when they get there.
As might be expected, all is not well with Misha. Her cottage is empty and her pet bear, which Kalanos mentioned, comes roaring out of the woods, maddened and bleeding (from the neck, given the source of the wounds). The plot, which you're invited to telegraph heavily to the players, says that the bear is too scary to fight, so the party holes up in Misha's cottage until it goes away. In 5th edition, a plain old CR 1 brown bear isn't hard for 3rd level characters to fight. A DM might up-scale it to a CR2 cave bear or even a CR3 owlbear. But in Basic, the bear with its hug attack is dangerous as hell, especially against a lightly armored foe. When I ran the first few scenes of B10 using my 52 Pages Basic-like rules, Kalanos (who had chosen to camp overnight at the ferry) high-rolled morale, ran at the bear, and immediately got mauled and death-hugged, 5th level be damned.
No worries, though. If you manage to kill the bear, that's just more fuel for the tragedy once you figure out that it was rage-grieving the death of Misha. Indeed, this is the first of several instances in the adventure where the impact of war and violence is shown through the trauma of a third party, contributing to the gritty feel and raising the stakes in the action. You might also find the dead Misha if you search the river bank. Why you didn't have a chance to see the body coming up the river is unclear, but I just relocated the scene of the tragedy to a berry bush inland (and for 5th edition, added a few goodberries in a pouch to reward the party for finding her). Drained of blood, with bites on her neck, there's a good chance your players will think "vampire" instead of the real culprit, "vampire bats" working for the enemy. Anyone for a darkly comic bear hunt with stakes and garlic at the ready?
I recommend letting players know that they get a few XP, no more than 100 among the party, for burying Misha and any other dead people who are found without hope of burial. This reinforces the theme that the players represent decency and civilization. In fact, the ferry episode introduces a moral urgency to the adventure. The players are not just charging into a condominium of sentient abhumans, licensed to murder and loot, as they were expected to in the first of the B series, Keep on the Borderlands. It's 1986, and they've found the quickest way to establish a heroic narrative: show victimized people. If your ethics run that way, a DM might bend the narrative to involve misunderstood humanoids manipulated by an evil human slaver conspiracy. Or not. The point is, you the players are just on the way to do some business, and trouble has come to you and your hosts. But you're well equipped and eager to fight back - hell, it might even make you stronger in the doing.
Some of this module's much-derided railroading comes through after this encounter. For the story to play as written, the players need to leave the cottage next morning and take the whole day getting to Sukiskyn. Authorial fiat descends like a ton of bricks: the DM is told to use any means necessary to get the players to stay in the cottage overnight. Scary wolves howl in the night, and attack if the players press on to Sukiskyn -- though 5th edition characters will not be scared of 2-5 big bad wolves. What's more, the DM has permission to get the players lost in the woods, Blair Witch style -- even though there's a trail and a waxing moon shining through light clouds, by the adventure's own meticulous almanac. And then, when they set out the next day, the DM has the power to stretch or squeeze the path to fit the party's movement rate, making sure they get to Sukiskyn at sundown so the big set-piece there can go exactly as planned.
I'll have more to say about this next post, but, is it such a terrible crime if the players get to their destination a bit early or a bit late? Let's look at the trail. As mapped, it winds across six hexes, 18 miles to Sukiskyn.
If the heroes get there early, it's because they've braved the perils of the night journey, or risked lighter armor in exchange for faster travel, or somehow learned that it's a bit quicker to follow the main river and turn at the stream. So why not reward early-comers with a safer set-up for the big battle that's ahead? If they get there late, things can also be arranged so they don't miss everything, but they have it a bit harder. In Mentzer D&D, the sluggish travel rates of the Cook edition get more realistic. Those in no or leather armor move 24 miles a day, those in metal armor move 18. So an average party will get there in time, the lighter-equipped party is rewarded by getting there a few hours before sunset, and any slower movement has to be chalked up to dawdling or encumbrance beyond fighting kit.
Nor is there any need to bend the rules to frustrate the night journey. Just throw some heavy cloud cover over the skies, warn them that openly carried light will attract attention. Warn them, too, that they will get tired near dawn. Perhaps that fatigue involves minor hit point damage, an exhaustion level in 5th Edition, or some minuses to attack. If they insist on going by night, throw in guaranteed encounters with a hungry wolf pack tailored to the party's abilities, and with an advance party of goblin scouts, representing the ambush that starts off the next episode.
There are 46 pages of adventure, and we're on page 2; dozens of encounters, and we're at the third one. But here is where Night's Dark Terror puts on its big show; here we are, at the siege of Sukiskyn!
