The Hundred are the survivors of a single, impossible event. A mass breakout beneath Tintown freed a hundred imprisoned magic users from Shatterstaff custody. No official record of that day exists. What remains are their stories, scars, and reputations. Some members of the Hundred are celebrated, while others are feared or avoided. In Tintown, claiming to be one of the Hundred means something. It marks you as someone who is capable of something greater.
This page serves as the living record of the Hundred’s ongoing story. It connects to the Moot: West Marches campaign and tracks the people, events, and consequences that shape the city and the lands beyond it. Session reports and character records are collected here as the campaign unfolds, preserving the legends behind them.
Session Reports
Session 1 - The Escape
(Expand)
Session 2 - Happy Harpies
(Expand)
Session 3 - The First Inscription
(Expand)
Session 4 - Matter of Miters
(Expand)
Session 1 - The Escape
(Expand)
Zip used a sweet sending device to talk to someone he could not see... it was amazing, he wants one, always, on his person. I let Krovus out, even though he is a dick, don't know what happened to him but he is most likely dead. Henrik is also a dick and a Shatterstaff that threw me in this damned prison; he deserved to die. The prison is destroyed and everyone is free again, it was a good fight! There was gas, gravity, a shaky plant, and a shaky ground, but now there's fresh air!
Illumination justice demands its pound of flesh. Saving most was a difficult, but not impossible task. Maintaining life was the goal, but ending it was the result. Having no magic is a scary feeling; a small death, a big flame, but an epic beginning to the start of the rest of our lives.
(Expand)
We made song and dance to possibly break the trance. Valerie was the harpy whisperer, and she met a terrible end. We fought the elements and with the elements and met a Stick and Chair. They say the Harpy is a fright, they turned out to be a pure delight.
(Expand)
We were hired to get some necromantic stuff that sounds important. Coffee is delicious. All actions have a cost, and all debts inevitably come due. We went to a school! Got a book, it read me, which didn't break the rules, and Urma got caught. Green is not the color I chose, but the color I am; the underground world of artifacts is a world unknown!
(Expand)
Caught between a roc and a rock, herd people hurt people. We saved our "bacon" by staying off the ground. The sonnet of song sent the titans of the sky and ground into fight and one was bound. Have you herd the word?
Current Roster
Kyle, Level 1
Expand Backstory
Saraphel stands a most singular fellow. A half-wrought child of heaven whose countenance bears more of the grave than of the choir. He is lean as famine and pale as moon-bone. His past is one long acquainted with sorrow and his tongue speaks with a courtesy befitting courts now fallen to dust.
Among the priests of Tintown, it is said that the Hundred's Angel hears the dead as plainly as we hear church bells. For this rare and dreadful faculty, Saraphel was seized by the Shatterstaves. Within their stone halls he learned cruel measure, shaping the laments of spirits into sonnets, verses that became a shroud laid gently upon his restless soul. When he was free, and finally took to the air, great wings unfolded from his back wrought like ivory ribs.
Saraphel is no optimist of mankind, for he has heard too well alike the confessions of kings and beggars. There is little to praise in either. He lingers in Tintown, drawn to the city’s ceaseless clatter. Here, the dead are stirred from sleep and cry for witness. So he sings to ease the departed. In the quiet spaces, Saraphel grants forgotten spirits the one kindness the world denied them: an ending.
Kyle, Level 2
Expand Backstory
Torrin was once a dwarven pirate, part of a hard crew that trusted iron, stone, and the weight of an anchor more than luck or prayer. When his ship dropped anchor in unfamiliar waters, the iron tore into something buried deep beneath the sea floor—an ancient gate to the primordial realm of earth—and through that break an ancient earthen primordial entity reached out, fastening itself to the anchor and to the dwarf who had thrown it.
The ship was lost, and Torrin didn’t get far before the Shatterstaves found him. They imprisoned him, locking him behind stone and iron while the weight of his new power settled into his bones, constant and crushing, whispering patience and pressure through the walls.
After his captivity ended, Torrin didn’t linger anywhere for long. He learned that stillness made the earth feel closer, heavier, like standing at the edge of a slow collapse, so he kept moving—taking work where he could and throwing himself into danger before it had time to catch up.
In Tintown, he found the Misfit Adventure Party, a guild that didn’t ask too many questions and never turned away those who needed a place to stand. Their fair dealing and steady code gave Torrin something he hadn’t felt in a long time—a reason to keep moving that wasn’t just fear, but the chance to belong without being owned.
Now Torrin adventures as a mercenary of the Misfits to stay afloat. As long as he keeps choosing his own path and standing with those who do the same, the weight he carries hasn’t won—and the ground beneath him hasn’t claimed him yet.
Drew, Level 2
Expand Backstory
Dot Orea is an elvenari of the Great Forest of Leng. She left young by her people’s measure and younger still by her own. She was never well suited to the stillness and ceremony of forest life. She was clumsy where others were graceful and distracted where others were serene. The name “Dumb Dot” followed her from childhood, spoken half in affection and half in dismissal. Dot learned early that she would never fit the shape expected of her.
She left Leng for Erimata and took the Dragon’s Peace, finding purpose in the Covenant. There she became a priest, devoted to reverence. Her faith centered on dragons, their history, their presence, and their place in the world. Under the guidance of Lyrissa the Solid Fog, an adult green dragon who became something like a second mother to her, Dot found perspective.
Dot progressed and promoted. Her first assignment as a cleric of the Covenant brought her to Tintown. She was sent to investigate Serpent's Treasures, a shop dealing in illicit dragon relics and body parts, owned by Cadmus Broodfang. Before she could make progress, Tintown fell under quarantine. Dot was taken by the Shatterstaves and imprisoned beneath Chateau Charmont.
A year later, Cadmus’s shop is shuttered and the trail has gone cold. Dot remains in Tintown as one of the Hundred. She is stuck between returning home and making a life where she is. Either choice requires coin, and for now, adventuring is the work in front of her. She follows the Covenant as best she can, listens for Lyrissa’s guidance when it comes, and takes each job as it is offered, hoping that meaning will reveal itself along the way.
Chuck, Level 2
Expand Backstory
Urma is bald, dark skinned, very tall but wiry and rail thin. One of her legs is prosthetic, but she is so practiced moving in it that most people don't notice unless they have camped with her. Her wings are brilliant white and massive, but can be tucked away very neatly beneath her cast off chainmail.
Urma is a child of the Tritos Dominion and was self imprisoned as one of the Hundred. She views her abilities not as a gift or burden, but a responsibility. She spent her time in prison learning all she could about the Hundred and their abilities, many of them reaffirming the necessity of the lock up. She strongly disagreed with the Shatterstaff mythos, she can relate to their brutal methods of justice.
When the Hundred escaped, Urma had no intention of executing Shatterstaff justice on them, believing in her own righteous code, handed down through ancient Upiryrial law.
However, she did have great concern as to the damage these powerful people could cause if left unchecked. Being one of the foremost experts on the Hundred and what they are capable of, Urma has taken it upon herself to track each and every one of them, ensure they are abiding by law, and deliver punishment herself if need be should she find they have gone astray.
Bryan, Level 2
Expand Backstory
A year ago, Tintown learned my name in whispers. Today, they speak it carefully.
I live quietly in the Lower District, close enough to the scars of Chateau Charmont that I can smell the stone dust when the wind shifts. I mend walls, carry water, and teach breathing forms to children who have trouble sleeping. Most days, I am simply another Malkari monk keeping to the Tenets of Bako—discipline, balance, and restraint. Stillness before motion. Mercy before wrath.
But people know what I am.
They know I am one of the Hundred.
Some believe that makes me dangerous. Others believe it makes me sacred. I let them believe what they need. Bako teaches that truth does not require defense.
Before the imprisonment, I came to Tintown as a wandering ascetic. A sickness was spreading through the outer districts, and the Malkari orders sent healers and monks to aid where temples and physicians could not. I tended the ill, enforced calm when panic threatened to break the peace, and refused payment beyond food and shelter. When the Shatterstaves arrived under the banner of quarantine, I did not resist them. Cooperation preserves harmony—or so I believed.
They said it was temporary. They said my presence near the sick made me a risk. They said compliance was a civic duty.
I surrendered my staff, my name, and my freedom without striking a blow.
That choice earned me a cell beneath Chateau Charmont.
Now, a year after the Hundred walked free, I remain in Tintown by choice. I have no monastery left to return to, and the city still trembles from what it endured. Where fear lingers, balance is needed. Where rumors grow sharp, someone must remain unsharpened.
The Shatterstaves are gone. The Duke and Duchess have returned. The Chateau is being rebuilt stone by stone.
And I am still here—breathing, waiting, watching.
Bako teaches that still water reflects the sky most clearly. Tintown has not yet learned what it will see when it looks into me.
Andrew, Level 2
Expand Backstory
The Year of the Glitch
In the year since the breakout beneath Chateau Charmont, Zip has not just survived; he has become a piece of Tintown folklore.
While other members of The Hundred try to blend in or hide their past, Zip leaned into infamy. The streets of the lower district whisper about "The Glitch"—a goblin who was there one second and gone the next, leaving only a mocking giggle and the smell of ozone. He earned the nickname because his presence feels like a stutter in reality; a door that wasn't there yesterday appears today, or a guard realizes the "wall" he was leaning on was actually just empty air.
Zip has spent the last twelve months embedding himself in the chaotic reconstruction of the city. He doesn't hold a steady job, but he is a frequent sight at the Misfit Adventure Party guild hall. While he finds their altruism exhausting, he appreciates their acceptance of "strange abilities" and uses the guild as a place to rest his head without judgment. He has also been known to trade information with the Sticky Fingers, though he finds their leader, Tack Tallow, a bit too greasy, even for a goblin.
Deep down, Zip follows Thurknot’s Diktat to the letter: Survival is the most important thing. His illusions are not just parlor tricks; they are his armor. He spent months in the dark beneath the Chateau, and he promised himself he would never be trapped in a cage again. If reality tries to box him in, he will simply change what reality looks like.
Nate, Level 2
Expand Backstory
They used to work at an inn, got scooped during the quarantine, escaped, and now do slightly more interesting odd jobs. Enjoys snacks (goodberry) and naps.
Dave, Level 2
Expand Backstory
From the time he could lift a hammer, Adren worked at the forge beside his elders, shaping iron, repairing armor, and listening to the deep, rhythmic song of metal under heat. Where others heard noise, Adren heard meaning. His strikes were steady, almost musical—earning him the clan nickname Bloodsong, for the way his hammerbeats seemed to pulse like a living heart.
From childhood, Adren was trained not only at the forge, but in combat. Every weapon crafted in the Bloodsong halls was meant to be wielded by its maker at least once. A smith who could not fight was considered unfinished. Adren thrived in this world. His hammer strikes rang with purpose, and when he trained in the sparring rings, his movements carried the same rhythm as his forging—measured, powerful, relentless. It was said that when Adren fought, his blood sang as loudly as the steel.
Adren’s departure came after a trial of arms. During a ceremonial forging meant to honor fallen warriors, Adren produced a weapon of rare balance—but when tested in combat, it failed. He chose exile of his own will.
Adren lives as a wandering adventurer and blacksmith. During a stay in Tintown he was imprisoned
After breaking out of wrongful imprisonment, Adren Bloodsong did not flee Tintown. He stayed.
Tintown was a place where freedom was spoken of often and practiced rarely. Coin ruled harder than any lord, and the city watch answered more readily to guildmasters than to law. Adren learned quickly that his chains had not been an exception—they were the norm, just quieter for everyone else.
The Forge with No Name
Adren vanished into the city’s underworks and abandoned foundries, eventually reopening a collapsed forge beneath a derelict tannery. He charges almost nothing, asking instead for stories. Dockhands, washerwomen, and laborers come to him with broken tools and bent blades—and with tales of debt contracts, forced labor, and “protective custody” cells that never seemed to open.
Adren repairs more than metal. He reforges shackles into plow blades, lockpicks, and knives meant for self-defense. Word has spread: there is a dwarf who breaks chains.Mike, Level 2
Expand Backstory
A year after the escape from Chateau Charmont, everyone in Tintown knows you as “the one who believed in procedure.” You earned your place as a Citizen of the Tritos Dominion the normal way: service, drills, gate duty, and the boring competence that keeps the caravans moving. During quarantine, that competence became your cage. You were assigned to checkpoint detail, and when a tense crowd surged, something in you snapped into place in a way that you didn’t know existed. Your words carried too far and shadows moved in the wrong spot; a face that wasn’t yours appeared long enough to prevent a trampling.
The Shatterstaves didn’t call it restraint. They filed you under arcane interference containment and stuck you beneath Chateau Charmont. Since the Hundred’s escape, you’ve stayed in Tintown with a simple rule: don’t grandstand and don’t apologize. You take missions that keep people from vanishing and teach others how to read patrol patterns. You’ve learned to treat your wild magic like you treated a weapon in service: respected, maintained, and only pointed where it matters.
Colton, Level 2
Expand Backstory
Before the towns and crowds had pull him away from his first home, Jort spent his time helping the monks of his local church. Jort lived a good life with the priests until he was introduced to the corruption of man. After finding the holy men taking money from the masses for personal gain, he cut ties with the church. Jort traveled alone for a few years picking up the skills of thievery. though he never lost his faith completely. He did his best taking only from those who had more than they needed or were using their wealth to hurt the common people.
Tintown was where he decided to make somewhat of a home for himself. The Sticky Fingers guild took him in with open arms. Things were good for a time. He had a good group of people to help with his jobs; some could even be called friends. Jort knew the good days couldn't last.
When the Shatterstaves arrived, they began rounding up people who they said had come down with a strange disease. The Staves came for Jort and his crew after the rumors of him using his gift to help some of his merchant contacts saving some livestock, laying to rest some animated corpses, and healing a child's injuries. When the Staves came, he knew that the guild wouldn't let him stay imprisoned for long.
Jort waited to hear from the guild for weeks and the message was simple: the problem was his to face. So he started to plot with his fellow inmates. The group became close and plans formed when the opportunity came the Hundred leapt at the chance. After the escape, the group stayed in close contact, taking the odd job together. Jort seems to have found a new partnership, so when his companions need him, his sticky fingers are ready for the job.
Lady Waters
NPC, Level 4
Expand Backstory
Lady Waters was in Tintown on private business when the quarantine was declared. She showed no signs of sickness and was detained anyway. When she was released, no record of her detention remained. No apology was offered. No compensation was given. She was livid.
She returned to her family lands only long enough to secure funds and political cover, then chose to come back to the city. Lady Waters joined Huntress shortly after, drawn by the guild’s reach and its independence from the Tritos Dominion. Through Huntress channels, she now has access to information and safe movement that the Civil Legion cannot easily block.
Since her return, Lady Waters has become a public opponent of the government and the expanded authority of the Civil Legion. She organizes protests, funds legal action, and shelters members of the Hundred who would otherwise be exposed. Her actions stay within the letter of the law, but only narrowly. She does not argue for reform, but pushes for accountability. Among the Hundred, she acts as a coordinator and bankroll.
Bryan, Level 2
Expand Backstory
Hieronymous Honeythroat did not return to Tintown quietly.
In the year since the jailbreak, his voice has become one of the city’s most recognizable sounds—silken, clever, and always just a half-step ahead of danger. Once whispered about in alleys and guardhouses, his name now appears on playbills, tavern chalkboards, and the lips of those who know how power truly moves in Tintown. He sings in wine halls rebuilt from rubble and performs beneath half-finished scaffolding at Chateau Charmont, as if daring the city to remember.
The people say Hieronymous was never meant to survive what happened beneath the city. They say the Hundred came back changed—sharper, stranger, touched by something unseen. In his case, that change is subtle: a voice that seems to reach deeper than it should, words that linger long after the song ends, and a knack for turning suspicion into applause. Whether magic, trauma, or sheer will, no one can quite agree.
Hieronymous has made himself indispensable. He trades stories for favors, songs for secrets. Nobles invite him to their salons despite knowing exactly who he is. Dockworkers drink to his health. Even the city watch hesitates when his name is mentioned—no one wants to be remembered as the one who crossed a member of the Hundred.
Yet behind the velvet coats and jeweled instruments, Hieronymous is careful. He chooses his stages. He watches exits. He never stays too long in one place unless the crowd is on his side. Tintown is home, but it is also a reminder—of cages dressed as safety, of authority without accountability.
The Hundred are legends now. Some hide. Some rule from the shadows.
Hieronymous Honeythroat sings.
And Tintown listens—unsure whether his music is a comfort… or a warning.
Chuck, Level 2
Expand Backstory
Small, pale green almost tan skin. black eyes, dark pompadour hairstyle.
Prince Pockets is a goblin noble of Crammin, former heir to the throne of King Trashpile, and proud member of the Hundred. Prince's claim to Crammin's throne is not recognized and flimsy at best. He believes he is prince because that is his name, though there is no relation to anyone currently in the court. Prince was exiled from the goblin kingdom after his insistence on acknowledgment turned into harassment, driven from the badlands by the Brotherhood of the Cow.
Prince Pockets made his way to Tintown, relying on his charming and disarming nature to help make connections wherever he went. By the time he got to Tintown he was living a life of luxury, using his persuasion to live care free. Then he started coughing and got real sick. The local clerics called it the Crimison Hush and the Shatterstaves locked everything down.
Prince Pockets was discovered sick and dying in his unpaid penthouse, traces of magic lingering on everyone he spoke to. Prince had used enchantments unknowingly on basically every single person he ever talked to. The Shatterstaves suspected the illness was punishment for seditious spellcasting and locked him away. In lockup Prince pockets would have died if not for his persuasive tongue convincing a few Shatterstaff guards to ensure he got immediate and special treatment.
After the illness, Prince Pockets rather enjoyed his time in confinement. He met lots of people and played a ton of games, but most importantly he made many connections. Prince pockets saw his chance to escape and has remained in Tintown ever since.
Prince Pockets is content for now to survive and thrive in Tintown, living the good life, but he cant not deny his dreams of amassing a force stronger then the Brotherhood that can win him the goblin throne of Crammin.
Drew, Level 2
Expand Backstory
Leery was born an ember of the Stein, but his parents did not intend for him to remain one. They left their desert roots behind and raised him in the capital city of the Tritos Dominion, determined to give him a respectable, structured life among its citizens. Being “just” an ember was not enough for them. They wanted their son to have a life of prosperity.
He was enrolled in the Ania School of Bondsmen and trained for service. Leery learned the oaths and the discipline expected of a protector, but he never felt suited to it. The work demanded confidence and resolve. He had neither. The constant pressure, the expectation that he would one day be responsible for others, unsettled him more than he admitted. Eventually, he ran.
Leery wanted to head south toward the Abadaya Badlands but he never made it. Instead he was detained in Tintown by the Shatterstaves for reasons that were never explained to him, and he spent nearly a year imprisoned before managing to escape.
He now remains in the city. In that time, everything has changed. Leery is now counted among the Hundred. It is a role he neither sought nor understands. The position brings attention, questions, and responsibility. As far as he knows, he is the only Bondsman among them. The pay is better than he expected but the rest of it is not.
Edge Gastino
Mitch, Level 2
Retired
"I did not stop because the road ended. I stopped because I finally knew where I was."~ Unknown
Dead or Missing
"Reincarnation begins with recognition. It ends with forgetting."
~ Summertide Scripture
Krovis "Voris River Killer"
NPC, Level 7
Expand Backstory
Krovis gained notoriety before the quarantine for being linked to a string of poisonings along the Voris River. Victims were found over months, spread between Tintown and the surrounding crossings. When he was finally identified and arrested, the case became public, and the name Voris River Killer stuck. He was never meant to be held in Tintown. The Shatterstaves intercepted his transfer and placed him beneath Chateau Charmont.
After the breakout, Krovis stayed in Tintown. For several months he made a point of being seen, openly mocking the Covenant and the Dominion, framing his escape as proof of their weakness. Krovis vanished soon after. Among the Hundred he is infamous. He is associated with them by circumstance and his continued survival represents a standing liability. Krovis holds negative Renown and any confirmed association with him reflects poorly on the group.
Entry for WorldEmber 2025
©2026 Dromaria & Stonehome Games | All Rights Reserved
Dromaria, their respective logos, and all Stonehome Games titles and characters are property of Stonehome Games LLC. in the U.S.A. and other countries.
No part of the material on this website may be used as data for ‘training’ any large language model or as part of any machine learning or neural network architecture.
Some artwork ©2020 Vagelio Kaliva, used with permission. All rights reserved.
Credits • Map License • Privacy Policy
Website powered by World Anvil
Dromaria, their respective logos, and all Stonehome Games titles and characters are property of Stonehome Games LLC. in the U.S.A. and other countries.
No part of the material on this website may be used as data for ‘training’ any large language model or as part of any machine learning or neural network architecture.
Some artwork ©2020 Vagelio Kaliva, used with permission. All rights reserved.
Credits • Map License • Privacy Policy
Website powered by World Anvil