Chronicles of Oerth is a campaign taking the form of a series of short adventures, each following the course of a major historical event in this fantastic world and the heroes involved.
Each historical event is a separate short adventure, generally with a different cast of player characters, and sometimes with different players as well.
Every adventure will be designed for a party of three characters, and will focus on one or two sourcebooks. Players and the DM will work together to determine starting level and other general details about the adventure.(The following is an excerpt from the adventure Rebellion at Onyx Spire)
It is when the sun sits low on the horizon, painting the sky a fiery crimson and casting shadows that seem to stretch on forever, that sharp, serpentine voices pierce the silent air, echoing off the slopes of the Glorioles – the troglodytes, hissing orders to one another in dragon-tongue.
The infiltrators rush to their doors, weapons at the ready, though they should not need them – at least, not for this stage of the plan. Cracking the doors open an inch and peering out, they see that the streets of Ahmiran are empty, as expected. Anyone caught outside at this time would be breaking curfew, and imprisoned.
The infiltrators rush out, racing towards their objective, feet kicking up dust as they hear mixed shouts from troglodytes, humans, and elves alike. Their window of opportunity is small – they know it will not be long before the troglodytes take hold of the situation, bringing swift justice to the rebels. They have precious little time to slide open the stone door and slip into the tower without being noticed.
And soon enough, they arrive before it.
There looms the Onyx Spire, an ebon spike jutting forth from the ground, rising high above the houses of Ahmiran, as though it were seeking to touch upon the heavens themselves. Arcane runes mutilate the smooth walls of the tower, scars self-inflicted by the powers within. White veins course along its circumference, spiraling upwards along the black rock, not unlike the path of a mage seeking the higher echelons of arcane might through a narrow path of discipline and focus in a world of darkness. But in the failing light of sunset, the pure, white onyx seems to grey, to fade, losing itself within the overwhelming blackness. Not a single window looks outward onto the world, once a testament to the ideology that to achieve true power, one must look within oneself. But now, the Onyx Spire seems to stare down sightlessly at the rebels, glaring at them with its blackness, defiant, daring them to enter, to be taken in, devoured, digested by the darkness that it purports.