This year at North Texas RPG Con, I had the privilege of running four full chapters of Ash and Iron, my ongoing dwarf-centric campaign chronicling a desperate escape from the City of Brass. What began as a few homebrew notes on a dwarven rebellion in the Plane of Fire has grown into a sprawling tale of political intrigue, molten horror, and grim determination—powered in no small part by the incredible players who bring it to life at every table.
Each session followed a tight, tournament-style structure, with players stepping into the roles of hard-bitten dwarves clawing their way out from under the heel of a brutal efreeti regime. The story spans the crumbling warrens beneath the City of Brass, cursed forges, and demon-haunted tunnels—all crafted with brutalist maps and lovingly painted miniatures. Feedback from the survey responses was overwhelmingly positive, which I take as both a compliment and a challenge to make things even tighter for Gamehole Con later this year.
The consensus? Players loved the tactical maps, miniatures, and serious danger. That’s exactly the kind of praise you dream of as a GM. That said, the highlight across all four sessions came in Chapter Three, when one the rogue—playing a cunning assassin dwarf—attempted to bypass a welded grate guarding access to a forgotten sewer inlet. As he was in mid battle, he was not as careful or clever as he normally would be.. He was rolling well. But not quite well enough.
As he opened the grate with marvelous pigments and stepped inside the sewer, there was a click—too subtle for most, but enough to raise eyebrows at the table. The next thing he knew, a hidden panel in the wall opened with a snap and a gleaming black arc of forged iron dropped from the ceiling: a vorpal guillotine trap. One clean, merciless roll later and he was missing a leg. Not unconscious but bleeding out in a stream of sewage. A dwarf, legless and laughing through clenched teeth, dragged away by his comrades under the hot sewer lights while cursing the Sultan and promising revenge.
What made it sing wasn’t just the gore or the trap design—it was how the players rallied. They bound his wound and created his own peg leg using the marvelous pigments. Suddenly, the encounter wasn’t just a trap—it was the turning point. The party changed. They got meaner. Tighter. More determined to break through the crust of the city and get free.
Those are the moments you can’t script—but they’re why I build this campaign. I want to give a massive thank you to all the players who took part in these sessions. Many had never played in all dwarf campaign before, and by the end they were talking in gruff brogues, cursing efreeti names, and bickering as dwarves do. Several groups made it further than expected thanks to some very clever problem-solving.
The feedback from the NTRPG Con surveys has already shaped a few upcoming changes:
- Tweaked Traps – While the traps were a hit (in more ways than one), I’ll be layering in a few more to add levity and challenge.
- Character Bonds – A few groups leaned hard into inter-party tension, which made me realize I need to write up some optional bonds, secrets, and dwarf-to-dwarf grudges for more emergent drama.
If you were one of the players this year—thank you. You made the City of Brass burn a little brighter.
If you’re planning to attend Gamehole Con, I’ll be running the same tournament scenario with these improvements. Bring your dice, bring your grit, and be ready to lose a limb—or save a kingdom.
