Dave Guerrieri

Favorite Games:
Dungeons & Dragons and Golf

GHR Adventures Written: A Road Less Traveled (with Dave Peterson) , Piece of Mined, Dead to Rights, Baptism by Fire story arc, High Horses, Temple of Nershia (with Anthony Keller), Across the Jeklea Bay (with Anthony Keller), More Than Meets the Eye (with GHR staff)

Full time technology educator teacher nearing retirement. Golfer who is not quite a good as he thinks he is. Married to wife Linda, with two-stepchildren and a grandson. Spends way too much time doing things other than gaming. Playing D&D and Greyhawk since summer of 1980, became involved with the RPGA’s Living Greyhawk game with the advent of 3E in 1999-2000. Prime Minister of the Regulators, one of the premiere gaming groups of LG. Keoland Triad member from 2005 until the end of the campaign, and a LFR admin for a time as well.

Authors and Dungeon Masters

Greyhawk Reborn’s distinct experience of the author as the DM provides unique flexibility to adventures. Consequently, authors must be willing to not only create adventures, but also run them at gaming community gatherings like game days and conventions. Authors work with the GHR Leads to create adventures that effect Greyhawk Reborn’s story. At this time, the most developed regions currently in play are the Hold of the Sea Princes and Keoland. We are currently accepting petitions for areas within these developed regions. Authors interested in different regions should see Specific Area Organizations.

Authoring DMs have…

  • a hand in writing the mod that they are running, so they have the ability to mold the storyline at the table via player interactions with the story.
  • flexibility and knowledge of the importance of each mod to ensure that players receive the maximum player experience with each path that PCs choose within the story.
  • an understanding for each interaction, combat and character in the mod and can utilize their understanding of their mod to adjust accordingly when interacting with PCs.
  • the opportunity to adjust the mod to cater on the spectrum of role playing to roll playing to suit the personalities of players at the table.
  • the privilege to take player responses to mold and shape future mods making the campaign primarily influenced by the players and the authors.
  • encouragement and support from the GHR staff to author and DM their mods as often as they like to expand the Greyhawk player base.


  • Run their adventures at gaming gatherings such as game days or conventions.
  • Maintain an open line of communication with GHR staff.
  • Be proficient with a word processer program.
  • Deliver adventure submissions, edits, final adventures and ARs by specific deadlines.
  • Utilize feedback offered by GHR staff to further develop adventure submissions.
  • Work with the GHR staff to expand plots and stories.
  • Have willingness to learn or knowledge of the Greyhawk setting.
  • Have reliable internet access.
  • Have strong communication skills.
  • Have strong game mechanics skills and knowledge.
  • Have strong time management skills.
  • Support GHR in a positive light in all public forums.

If you are interested, fill in the form below:

Narrative: Fall, CY 613 – And so it begins

Fall, 613 CY, Cryllor, temple to Pelor

“And so it begins.”

Brother Conrad finished putting the last bandage on the arm of the teamster and was explaining the need to keep the dressing dry and clean when a knock at his door interrupted him. He excused himself, walked to the door and opened it. Outside was a tall man dressed in the robes of their order standing in the flagstone hall. “Father Bartholomew, please enter.” said Brother Conrad as he swung the door wide, bidding him to enter. He first met this man here, shortly after he arrived after the Time of Troubles.

Brother Conrad furtively watched Father Bartholomew as he finished with his patient. He saw Father Bartholomew study the furnishings, books and the small golden icon to their god, then gaze out the small window with his one good eye, seemingly impatient. Brother Conrad finished with the teamster, led him to the door, and returned to his guest. “It is good to see you Father, will you be here long?” Brother Conrad was fond of Father Bartholomew, enjoyed his stories, and wished to see the lands like he did. But Conrad’s talents lay in the healing arts, not the conversion of the masses and his order needed that more than converts now, especially in a city filled to the brim with people.

“Just a few days Brother Conrad, I am here to see the Lord Abbot. I have news, wonderful news.” Conrad saw the joy in the one good eye as he studied the face of Father Bartholomew. It was a joy he had not seen in a very long time. “Our lord has seen fit to reveal a glimpse unto me.”

“The light is returning.”

Narrative: CY 611 – The Search Part II

Autumn, CY 611 CY The Search Part II

War, pestilence and starvation had plunged the Sheldomar Valley into a pain and suffering almost too great to endure.  “How could I feel this old in less than two score years,” he wondered aloud as he walked through the crowded market. A few of the shoppers nearby gave him strange looks as he talked to himself. The market was alive with the haggling and shouting of the vendors, but it was a merely a shade of what he remembered from his childhood.

Even the resilient citizens of Cryllor reach a point where they break and would never be forged anew. “The crucible needs to refine the metal, not destroy it, if you want to make a sharp blade or sturdy hammer.” That was the advice given by a surly dwarf met in this same market all those years ago.  It seems the very thought of that dwarf and our companions still brings more joy than sorrow. Will the crucible of these times destroy these good people or forge them into a bastion of strength and resolve?

Everywhere he went he saw hunger and disease, pain and death. The remnants of the Times of Trouble still echoed loudly even after all these years. “Not a long period of time for a dwarf or an elf, but I have too few summers left to see if the seeds I plant will grow into the heroes who can restore peace and deliver prosperity for future generations,” he mused.

His thoughts were broken by a tug at his sleeve. “Will you want the usual, Master Clearspring?” It was Sandoval the Bald, his usual wine merchant.

Absently he responded, “Yes, and have it delivered to my shop, payment on delivery as usual.”

Sandoval paused a moment, and then continued. “A question, if you don’t mind; you have a small dry goods store, no family to speak of and yet you buy wine by the hogshead every fortnight. Do you swim in it?” A quick laugh and a smile was all that was needed to deflect such curiosity. Wine was one of the most useful ways to loosen the tongues of those who would be heroes, doomed to an unmarked grave or those who had the potential to be the sword or hammer the kingdom needed. How many start to seek fame and fortune only to find they serve a higher purpose for the greater good?  A question only the gods could answer.

The handbills posted in the local taverns, guilds, refugee camps and the city gates always brought out a crowd. The mere mention of adventure, fame, and fortune (with a free glass of wine) made the curious and the brave come out. For nigh on three years these meetings had withered to only a few who possessed the skills required to survive the adventuring life. Those who showed potential were either old campaigners long in the tooth or those too young and unskilled to survive an encounter with an angry bar wench, let alone orcs, trolls, or worse.

His shop was small and unremarkable from the outside. Always cautious, the door locked and shutters closed; a quick hand gesture and a few minor words of arcana would reveal any magical auras. The only emanations were on the expected items. Unlocking the door, he entered, and quietly relocked the door. With a word he moved through the ether between places to a warehouse on the outskirts of Niole Dra.

“Welcome back, my friend.” the scowling Dwarf exclaimed. “We have serious matters at hand. When will you give up on these fishing trips?” In his mind, “Never” was the answer.

“Where are those the kingdom will need?  When I find them, I will guide them, prepare them, and forge them for the future.”

Narrative: CY 610 – What Once Was

What Once Was, Fall, 610 CY, The Axewood

Kimbertos knelt amongst the thinning bush and sited down the arrow shaft timing the movements of the deer he took aim at. The creature was thin, but it was the most promising target that he had found all day. Game was becoming harder to find in the Axewood with all the competing factions struggling to survive now.

“Slow breath in, slow breath out.” he murmured quietly to himself… and loose. The twang of the bow string seemed to hang in the air.His target, a thin deer, bucked and leapt off through the brush. Kimbertos rose slowly and made his way to where the buck had been standing. “Blood trail,” he thought, “Well, that’s a good sign.” He followed the trail through the brush a few yards and found the creature laying still, an arrow protruding from behind the right leg. Dropping his bow and quiver, he drew his knife to begin dressing the animal.

“That’s a fine prize,” he heard from behind him, “Enough for everyone to share.” Looking over his shoulder he saw a young man dressed in woodland garb perched on a rock outcropping.

“Why, yes it is.” he replied. Turning back to the task at hand, “If you would care to help, I am sure that we could both benefit.” Kimbertos said.

“Oh, I think I have a better plan in mind.” he heard as Kimbertos felt the sword blade touch his shoulder and neck. Kimbertos froze, and then slowly looked up to see several others had now arrived, some with bows drawn and trained on him. “When I said ‘enough for everyone to share’, I might have had a little something different in mind.” The man removed the blade from Kimbertos’s neck. “However, we thank you for the meal and for that we will let you live. How’s that for a benefit?” The man’s friends laughed at this. One of the group stooped over to pick up the deer while the others kept watch.

“Taking a man’s kill is a dangerous game nowadays.” Kimbertos said while he gritted his teeth.

The man looked at him with interest. “What once was yours is now mine.”  With a wink and a bow, the man added, “You could say that about a lot of things now, couldn’t you?”