Campaign summary of Preemptive Justice, set in the World of Kiynan (5E compatible, based on Wizard of the Coast’s SRD 5.2.1).
The voyage across the Silent Sea passed in quiet preparation. Shep kept things lively with jokes and drink, though his mind never strayed far from the mission. When Ethane asked him about hope, he answered simply and honestly, giving what insight he could. Oren spent his time learning from the crew, comparing their navigation to his own desert instincts, always searching for patterns. Bitoh worked the ship as if he belonged there, tying knots and climbing rigging, even teaching Oren a few things despite his usual gruff tone. Ethane, meanwhile, turned inward, studying and reflecting, trying to understand how he could stir emotion in a land that seemed to have none left.
Castle Malice was as grim as expected. Though rebuilt after the war, it felt hollow. The people were wary, conversations were short, and the presence of House Spite’s sorcerers weighed on everything. In the Old Market, the party began their search with little more than a vision of a woman at a loom and the certainty that violence was coming.
Their questions led them to two names: Ethel, a quiet master known for her unmatched work, and Ilara the Wise, a weaver who performed for crowds. The contrast was clear—one was respected, the other was visible.
They visited Ilara first.
Her cottage was open and welcoming. She offered a demonstration, and Bitoh paid for the group without hesitation. What followed was part craft, part performance. Ilara moved with practiced grace, weaving patterns that pulled at the eye. Bitoh found himself unexpectedly drawn in, and Oren was impressed enough to buy an entire wardrobe’s worth of her clothing. But Ethane saw through it. There was no real magic here—only skill and showmanship.
When questioned, Ilara reacted defensively, dismissing rumors and speaking bitterly of Ethel. That exchange planted doubt. If she was the one in danger, she did not seem to know it—or the truth lay elsewhere.
So they went to Ethel.
The difference was immediate. Ethel worked quietly, without spectacle. Her craft spoke for itself, and nothing about her suggested imminent danger. No tension, no sense of something about to break. The vision no longer fit.
That was when the realization came. In a land ruled by control and suspicion, it was not quiet excellence that drew attention—it was visibility. Ilara’s performances, her growing reputation, the crowds she attracted—those were the things that would draw the eye of House Spite.
By the time they reached that conclusion, they were already on their way back to Ilara’s cottage. If the vision was to come true, it would happen there.
They set their watch and waited.
When the Sorcerer Magistrate arrived with his guards to carry out the execution, the party struck from hiding.
In the opening moments, Shep acted first, ripping the ground apart as thorny spikes burst upward beneath the intruders, trapping and tearing at them. Almost at the same instant, Ethane unleashed a blast of searing flame, engulfing the Magistrate and his guards before they could react. Oren followed with precision, firing an acid-filled vial from his syringe launcher into the fray. Bitoh charged in immediately after, closing the distance and forcing the Magistrate into close combat while the enemy was still reeling.
The Magistrate and his guards answered in the next exchange. Though badly staggered, the Magistrate lashed out with cold, controlled magic, freezing Bitoh’s feet to the ground in an attempt to halt his advance. One guard pressed on to strike at Ilara, only to be punished with a fiery blast as Ethane’s illusory disguise fell away, revealing that the weaver was nowhere to be seen. The guards tried to regroup under the Magistrate’s command, striking back where they could, but the ambush had already broken their formation.
The party pressed the advantage without hesitation. Bitoh struck again, while Shep lashed out with his magic. Oren raised his musket to deliver another well-placed shot. Ethane visited more fiery destruction upon his foes.
The battle was brief, defined by that overwhelming first strike and the party’s refusal to let the enemy recover. In the end, the execution was stopped in its tracks. Ilara, hidden in the cellar, was shaken but unharmed.
In the aftermath, the party captured one of the guards alive. With a living witness in their hands, their next move was clear: uncover who had ordered the execution, and why. Beyond that, the final vision still remained—another target, still unknown, waiting somewhere in the shadows of House Spite.
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