Fantasy

Odrun Fell

FriendsAndFables

A city built in a fallen god-weapon, where guilds rule, delvers vanish, and every choice echoes through tunnels of chitin, ash, and ambition. Welcome to Odrun Fell, a Friends and Fables adventure!

Author's Note: Welcome to Odrun Fell, a Friends and Fables adventure into a world carved from myth and bone, where a shattered god-weapon's remains fuel a city of ambition, ritual, and ruin. From the lacquered towers of the Sprigs to the ichor-slick markets of the Barrows, every breath in this living graveyard is measured in trade, loyalty, and danger. Here, delvers vanish into the greatclub tunnels, masked beasts drift through haunted groves, and the softest words can carry more weight than any blade. The guilds squabble for dominance, adventurers bleed for coin or cause, and the club itself waits beneath it all like a buried truth. This game is a journey into beauty and rot, into candlelit politics and chitin-armored survival. Whether you walk with Cudgel steel, Promissory blades, or Barley-bred spiders on your shoulder, your choices will echo through the halls of power and the bones of the world. Odrun Fell is a city of many doors, how will you play in this adventure? Thank you for playing Friends and Fables!

Played	1118 times
Cloned	33 times
Created	15 days ago
Last Updated	Yesterday
Visibility	Public

Garrun Haskvale

Level 6 Human Ranger -

A level 6 human ranger from the Barleys, Garrun Haskvale is a steadfast protector of the Molt Troughs, embodying tradition and precision in his work.

Details

Race	Human
Class	Ranger
Level	6
Alignment
Pronouns	He/Him
Location	-21, -152

Skills

Acrobatics

Animal Handling

Arcana

Athletics

Deception

History

Insight

Intimidation

Investigation

Medicine

Nature

Perception

Performance

Persuasion

Religion

Sleight Of Hand

Stealth

Survival

Ispreparedcaster

Isspellcaster

Currencies

Gold Pieces	0
Silver Pieces	0
Copper Pieces	0

appearance

Garrun is a broad-shouldered man with sun-darkened skin and a thick jaw constantly shadowed by scruff and powdered husk dust. His hair is coal-black, kept short and practical, with streaks of silver near his temples from years beneath the braziers. His arms are corded with muscle, his forearms marked by old beetle bite scars and mottled burn lines from molten resin. He wears reinforced hide stitched from repurposed chitin and linen, heavy with grit but clearly maintained with care. A row of shell clasps on his belt marks his years of service—one per season, each from a different beetle strain. His eyes are a hard copper, unreadable at a glance but softened when watching younger tenders succeed. He smells faintly of clay, resin, and burning lavender incense. Garrun moves like the troughs themselves—slow, steady, grounded. If he raises his voice, something serious is about to break.

personality

Garrun is blunt, tireless, and built from habit-hardened pride. He doesn’t make small talk, and he doesn’t tolerate shortcuts. He believes that tradition is survival—each step in the molt cycle honed over blood, sweat, and ruin. But for all his grit, Garrun isn’t cruel. He’s fair, dependable, and fiercely loyal to those who’ve proven themselves in the ring. When someone earns his respect, they find a stalwart ally who would rather lose a limb than let you lose a day’s work. He sees the husks and meat not as product, but as proof—that the Barleys can still feed, clothe, and defend a city built on stone and chitin. He resents the pampered eyes of outsiders who see the Molt Troughs as dirty work. Garrun’s not trying to be liked. He’s trying to ensure no one in Odrun Fell forgets where the armor they hide behind actually comes from.

backstory

Garrun Haskvale is a Huskbelly breeder who was born between the troughs. His cradle was an empty husk-bin, and his first steps were across the warm clay ridges of the oldest breeding pit in the Barley rotation. The Haskvales have run the southern half of the Molt Troughs for five generations, and Garrun was trained to hear the subtle grinding of a beetle’s pre-molt twitch before he learned to write his name. He’s responsible for tracking molt patterns, sorting husks by density, and culling flawed broods before they destabilize the yield. His precision is unmatched, and though many in the Spindle praise the fine filaments used in noblewear, few realize those threads pass under Garrun’s gloved hands first. He’s fiercely protective of the Troughs’ legacy and slow to trust anyone who hasn’t earned their place under the heatlamps. Outside apprentices call him cruel. The old tenders call him necessary.

Stats

Strength

Dexterity

Constitution

Intelligence

Wisdom

Charisma

Armor Class

Max HP

Speed