Carapace King

Ben-Dagra session 2: We're all gong farmers, seriously, I promise

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Mon, 14 Jan 2019 14:44:00 +0000

Cast:
Emmett the Astrologist
Calhidon Starstrider, Elf
Liu-Chang Xhan, warrior and duck wrangler
Bavon the butcher cleric
Sneed the Thug

Months pass after our previous adventure, but we each pick up on rumors of nefarious opportunities from our combined contacts.

We learn of the House of the Green Crane, containing some sort of magic key and treasure in the highest room of the tallest tower. It's in an ancient mansion in the Gold quarter belonging to a long-defunct family. Fallen into disrepair and haunted by ghosts.

Sneed taps his patron in the Gold district to learn what he can, and his contacts tell him that the bottom floor has been taken over by wastrels who use it as a gambling lounge and den of iniquity.

Emmett immediately starts thinking of plumbing. Bavon offers to help however he can.

We approach the mansion. It's a huge, sprawling complex.

Main entrance on the east. Dilapidated entrance on the west that appears collapsed and impassable.

We push our way inside. Smell of body odor, drugs, alcohol....sex and candy? Guttering candles and lamps. It's a large floor-plan broken up into smaller apartment/storefronts, similar to a flea market.

Food sellers, gambling stalls, flesh sellers, drugs. Arranged into two rows of ramshackle booths.

At the far ends are a pair of doors. Guards stationed on each side.

Sneed slithers over to booth near the end and strikes up a conversation with the merchant there. As he pretends to have a conversation, he makes a sign of recognition in the language of the Thieve's Cant, trying to see if either of the door guards responds. One of them nods, and the other opens the door and enters into the room beyond.

Sneed takes this as a sign and approaches the guard, lying that he has business with him. The guard is suspicious, but lets him in. Sneed gestures for the rest of the group to follow him.

We enter a medium-sized meeting room. Tattered finery. Several imposing men.
A man in silk finery sits on an elaborate chaise lounge, and introduces himself as "Jakol".

"Why are you here?'

Sneed - "Sir, when I entered, I was assailed with the most foul stench of filth. I have brought with me the best gong-farmer in town to inspect your 'waste situation'".

Emmett, the gong farmer and recent wizard regales Jakol with lots of plumbing jargon and contract violations, before offering to take a look upstairs for Jakol.

Jakol says that the upstairs is full of bloodthirsty ghosts, and every year or so, some dumb group of adventurers goes up there and never returns. He tells us, "Fine, go up there. But if you return, I want a full share of the spoils."

Sneed briefly considers forging some documents that would leave Jakol empty handed after all this, but decides against this course of action.

Bavon offers Jakol a blessing from the cow god in exchange for 1gp, which Jakol agrees to for some inexplicable reason.

We embark.

Twisting hallway ending in stairs leading up into the darkness. Musty odor. Slightly colder temperature. Is dark.

The elf lights a torch and draws his copper sword.

Emmett casts Akeem's Mystical Mask to see in the dark, but miscasts. Black fungus grows up all around us, covering the walls and flooring.

We enter a big room covered in dust. There's a rug in the middle of the room. Bavon pulls it, thinking it would make a great blanket. He uncovers a pit in the floor and bells dangling that would have alerted Jakol's thugs if we hadn't already gained permission to enter this place.

Calhidon kicks open a door into another room full of debris and masonry. Bavon digs through the rubble and pulls out a skull with a silver circlet around its head. Then a shadow pulls it back. Bavon says, "never mind, you can have it."

The shadowy claw shoots out and rakes at Bavon with its icy talons, savagely murdering the beef acolyte.

Sneed dashes in and drags the cow priest out of the room, toward safety.

Emmett casts sparks of magical energy into the shadows, but it fizzles out.

Liu-Chang lunges with his spear, jamming it into the shadow. The creature gives off a gibbering squeal. When he pulls the spear back, the silver circlet is dangling off of it. We hear a distant "quack".

Calhidon releases his falcon into the shadowy gap in the rubble. Seconds later, shadow entrails start flying everywhere, then everything goes still and silent. Calhidon sadly lowers his drawn bow.

Liu-Chang dumps a vial of holy water down Bavon's throat, praying to the gods for help, but the gods do not hear.

Bavon barely stabilizes from his mortal wound. He has black rake marks on his torso. Liu-Chang hands Bavon the circlet and says "I believe your god wanted you to have this." He puts it on and miraculously it isn't cursed.

We hang out for an hour to let Bavon recover from his ordeal. Then he places his holy silver symbol over his forehead and his wounds seal up.

Calhidon presses on and kicks in the next door.

Collapsed shelves. Broken glassware. Emmett finds a secret door that leads into a hidden chamber. We hear a sound like the intake of breath with lots of reverb. Dust coalesces in the center of the room, into the shape of a shadowy humanoid figure.

Sneed tries to sneak past, but the specter locks its white eyes directly on him.

Liu-Chang flourishes his spear fancy, but fails to hit.

Bavon casts Protection from Evil, but fails and almost throws his holy symbol in frustration.

The shadow floats directly at Liu-Chang with its claws and maw, but the duck monk ducks deftly.

Emmett fires his bow. Misses.

Calhidon unleashes his falcon, but it just passes through harmlessly. On seeing this, he casts Magic Shield on Bavon and fails.

Sneed dissolves into the shadows.

Bavon tries to Turn Undead. The shade draws back in horror and flees from the effigy of the Bull. It hisses and gibbers angrily from the corner, then disappears into what appears to be a wall. Calhidon inspects the area and finds a hidden door into a broken-open crawlspace.

We pursue and find a room with a floor that is canted at an angle. 6 small humanoid dust creatures emerge from the ceiling, floor and walls, and pounce on us.

Calhidon's falcon whiffs, and he fires a useless shortbow arrow.

Liu strides into the center and does a whirlwind maneuver.

Sneed slinks into the shadows behind cover.

Bavon beseeches his god to blow a strong wind into the room and disperse these creatures. An enormous wind rushes through, blasting the creatures free of dust, leaving only these emaciated, mummified angry monkey things full of teeth and eyes.

The creatures attack in a frenzy, landing hits on Calhidon and his falcon.

Emmett cuts himself like 1999 emo kid and and recovers his Magic Missile, casting it at the critter that attacked Bavon. The poor critter collapses into a puddle of hissing and popping acid.

Calhidon's falcon rips and rends while Calhidon fires his bow at a different critter. It continues to fight, despite being impaled by an arrow.

Liu swings his spear like a hockey stick, trying to slam one critter into the other.

Sneed pounces out of the shadows and back-stabs one of the uninjured critters, landing a solid hit. He immediately tries to take another attack, but gets too excited and overextends, but manages to regain his footing without stumbling.

Critters attack, hitting the falcon, the elf, and Liu-Chang.

The falcon and the elf retaliate. One of the critters drops, with an arrow through it.

Sneed flanks the critter attacking Emmett and stabs his dagger through its neck and up through its little skull.

Bavon heals Calhidon.

Critters attack, hitting the Elf and Liu. Liu drops.

Emmet casts a cloud of scintillating light shimmers, crashing into one of the critters, dropping it.

We finish off the remaining two dust imp.

Bavon rushes over to Liu and lays on hands, helping him almost fully recover. His god disapproves.

Ben-Dagra session 1: Gold Pit of the Forgotten King

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Mon, 17 Dec 2018 21:54:00 +0000

Presented as written by the party chronicler, the best thing to ever happen to my game group. Enjoy!

Dubious noblemen, so many bulls, and a mighty duck
--------------------------------------

We begin in a hookah lounge tucked away in the Weaver's District. The subterranean looms hummed below, tended by their monstrous Weavers.

This is our hangout. A spot to unwind and grab a drink to dull the memory of our daily toils. Recently some uppity nobleman showed up and started buying drinks for everyone. He's been doing this for weeks. Rubbing shoulders. Making friends. Assuring us that he too is a member of the middle class.

Tonight he finally revealed what he's up to. He gathered a bunch of us around, presumably the most trustworthy among us:
* a dwarven stonemason
* Felix the halfling trader
* Morton the gravedigger
* another gravedigger from a different guild
* a butcher who always carries half a side of beef with him
* an elven falconer
* a cheesemaker
* a squire training under a possibly fictitious knight
* a minstrel and a jester, sister and brother
* an animal trainer
* Elmer, the urchin
* a cutpurse
* a dwarven ratcatcher
* Liu Chang Zhan, rice farmer and Anatidaeomancer
* Sneed the beggar (and spider bite survivor)

The noble introduced himself as Darius Hamenoy, and rambled on about his impeccable pedigree while the rest of rolled our eyes, yawned, drank some more, and tended to our duck(s). Finally he got to the point. He apparently was sifting through his opulent library and opened up a dusty disused tome, and a parchment map fell out. It appeared to be a map to a fantastic lost treasure buried in a tomb of antiquity. He called it "The Gold Pit of the Forgotten King". Or was it The Forgotten Pit of the Golden King? Dammit. Maybe it was the Forgotten Gold of the King Pit. I don't know, I was drunk.

In any case, Lord Darius of Hamenoy proposed that we set off together to recover this treasure. In hindsight, we probably should have negotiated terms, but I think we were all eager to escape our boring jobs digging graves, begging, cutting purses, catching rats, etc, so we agreed immediately, and set off on the following morning.

We journeyed into the Scabrous Wastes, following the cursed ridge for half a day's journey, guided by Darius's map, finally arriving at an unremarkable spire of sandstone. It just looked like any other part of the arid terrain, aside from a small crack near the base. Upon further examination we discovered that this crack was large enough to squeeze through.

Our brave squire donned his helmet, demanded a torch from some other weak fool, and squeezed into the spire. The butcher raised up a holy symbol and followed, struggling to get his side of beef through the gap.

Inside the spire, it looked more like a well. It descended about 100 feet, and had a cobbled spiral staircase leading to the bottom. Sir Brave Squire led the way to the bottom, where we found a tall arch of stone, but the entryway was a solid wall of stone. Upon the wall was the image of a monstrous fanged bull, with a large hole where the mouth should have been.

Lord Darius informed us that the map says only noble blood will unbar the gate, so he stepped forward and put his arm in the hole. It worked! Well, sort of. Chalk this one up to user error. With his arm in the hole, the stone mechanism slides open, but unfortunately crushed and ripped Darius's arm off his body. He collapsed to the ground, screaming like a nobleman.

Our elven falconer fashioned a makeshift tourniquet while the minstrel sang a soothing tune to the doomed Darius. Miraculously, the bleeding stopped, so we continued on with no effort to retrieve the poor guy's severed arm.

Ahead of us we saw an ascending tunnel. Motifs of warrior kings and bulls were painted on the walls. Something glittered on the floor ahead. Maybe a dusty gem.

One of our halflings and one of our dwarves rushed toward it – a footrace for riches....or death in this case. The halfling grabbed the gem, but it turned out to be a trap mechanism. A giant stone block dropped out of the ceiling and crushed the poor little guy. Then the block began sliding down toward the rest of us, smearing halfling guts all the way down the ramp.

Sadly, the animal trainer and Elmer the Urchin got crushed, but the rest of us managed to dodge out of the way.

Heartlessly, we continued on, opening a door into a hallway leading left or right. The squire immediately charged to the left with his longsword raised, leading us to another room with a treasure chest and a suit of armor.

One of our dwarves (they all look the same, right?) lit the two torches on the wall, while the cutpurse stuck a dagger into the chest, prying the lid open. Glittering gems, pile of coins. Cutpurse pockets it all. The squire examined the armor rack. It was a fine set of scale mail. A copper sword in a scabbard. The squire looked it over thoroughly, suspicious of traps after whats-his-face just died in the last room, but didn't find any pressure plates or anything else out of place.

He donned the scale mail and handed the copper sword off to some other weakling. The butcher and Morton the gravedigger grabbed the torches off the wall and we headed off in the opposite direction.

What we found was an enormous room. The floor was deep, deep sand. Morton tried to kick some away to see if there was a stone floor beneath, but it was just sand and more sand. While he was busy staring at his feet, the rest of the party was transfixed by the giant statue of an enormous bull dominating the center of the room.

The cutpurse scampered up ahead to check out the bull while the rest of us cautiously followed.

Then, an enormous worm rose up from the sand! And devoured the cutpurse's face! With its scything jaws! Then it dove back into the sand.

The squire rushed in, toward the spot where the cutpurse disappeared under the sand. Another worm leapt out and bit the squire. Apparently this also triggered an impact trap in his cursed armor, releasing spring-loaded spikes into his body and killing him instantly. But we had no way of knowing that, and just assumed that these horrific worms were going to devour us all.

Just then, another worm leapt out at our butcher, trying to bite him, but instead it bit into his side of beef. It then tried to rip and tear at the meat, but the beef was too strong. Too tough. The poor worm ended up ripping its own face off. The butcher stood triumphant in his beef jerky armor.

Morton and the other gravedigger rushed at the worm that just killed the squire, and stunned it with their trusty gravedigging shovels. Then, Felix the trader ran over and stabbed it to death. It lets out a sad whining whimper, drowned out by the annoying celebratory cheer that Felix let out.

With one worm defeated, we made quick work of the other two that couldn't handle our battle superiority.

Felix inspected the massive stone bull statue. One of its eyes was an empty socket. The other glinted with the yellow sparkle of a gemstone. Felix pried it loose. A decent-sized topaz gem!

We explore some more, finding a short hallway that got thicker and thicker with cobwebs toward the end.

Liu Chang Zhan, rice farmer and Anatidaeomancer, stepped forward and set his duck on the ground, commanding it to head down the hall. The little mallard waddled away obediently, triggering multiple pressure plates and dart traps aimed for a normal humanoid's chest height. The whole group celebrated.

The butcher set the cobwebs on fire with his torch, revealing another doorway at the end of the hall. The door opened into a big room covered in webs. On the ground were several low figures, disfigured mounds covered with webbing.

Two of us went to investigate. The first one turned out to be a dead man. Really just a husk wearing ancient fine robes, clutching some kind of staff with a topaz gem. Felix appropriated said gem immediately.

Morton grabbed his gravedigger's shovel and dug into another one. This one also contained a dead person. However, it shortly erupted into a million awful spiders that devoured his face, then disperse. RIP Morton.

Liu Chang Zhan, the rice farmer, poked and prodded another of the web mounds, triggering a poison needle trap, but he miraculously managed to dodge it.

And then, giant spiders attacked! They were hiding on the ceiling the whole time. Also, two of them are on fire. Just so you know.

Sneed the spider bite survivor threw his flask of oil, trying to catch the uninflamed spider one on fire, but the flask misses.

Butcher attacked one of the flaming spiders with his meat cleaver and crushed its "skull". He had to use two hands to pull his cleaver loose, and the spider turned over and curled up.

The Ratcatcher gave another spider a solid thwack, and the other Gravedigger smashed in with his shovel.

The Ratcatcher and rice farmer both get bit badly by the spiders.

Felix stabbed with his shortsword, hacking the spider's mandibles clean off. The lone remaining spider succumbs to the flames engulfing it.

We explored the rest of the room and found:
* An altar
* A cask containing a golden statue of a bull
* Another corpse wearing leather armor

We headed back to the sand room and opened up the door to the south. I was a creepy twisting hallway. Every few feet there were ancient rotting tapestries hanging from the ceiling, getting in the way. We pick our way through and entered another large chamber.

In the center of the room was an altar. The eastern wall was completely covered with large tapestries. The cheesemaker sneaked over and peeked behind the curtain to see a large stone cabinet. He slipped behind the tapestry unnoticed and tried to quietly open it. A poison needle pricked his arm, but he still managed to get it open. He and started shoveling as much gold and silver into his pouch as possible, even though his arm felt like it was on fire from the poison coursing through his veins.

At the same moment, we heard a shrill, piercing scream. Maybe a whine. Or a shriek. But it got louder and louder until finally a monstrous shade ascended from the altar. The skull of a bull. Long waving shape that howled threateningly.

The Ratcatcher threw his net at it. To everyone's surprise, it did absolutely nothing.

The shade pointed a ghostly finger at the Ratcatcher.

Felix charged in screaming, leaping off the altar and plunging his shortsword into the shade. He just passed through harmlessly.

With zero effort at all, the shade killed the ratcatcher.

The gravedigger swung his shovel, but it didn't seem to do much.

Thinking fast, the Jester rummaged through his pack and found a vial of holy water. He tossed it at the shade, causing it to screech and wail. Then it "popped" and went screaming back into the void.

We found:
* An ancient scroll
* A goblet full of mummified organs
* Sacrificial tools inlaid with precious metals.

With the shade banished back to the void, we headed back to the big room with the bull statue. Two of us clambered onto the giant bull statue, and placed the topaz gems back into its eye sockets.

The sandy floor began swirling beneath our feet in a massive whirlpool, sucking us downward into the pit. Sneed barely managed to escape the vortex, which revealed a stepped terrace down to the bottom.

The bull statue was now sitting on a tall pedestal, the base of which had an archway revealing stairs leading down.

We descended into a chamber with spikes all over the floor. Long catwalks led to the other side of the room, but the ancient stone arches had crumbled in places, leaving gaps on the walkway.

We found some rope and tossed it across the gap, lodging it around a stone.

The Minstrel tried to cross, but fell down onto the spikes. Miraculously she managed to survive. She picked her way around, recovered the rope, and helped the rest of us cross the chamber.

We entered a great throne room. Arches flanked the aisle leading down toward a throne. On the throne sat the desiccated corpse of the Forgotten King.

As soon as we stepped into the room, an enormous black aurochs materialized behind the great throne, breathing smoke and flame, billowing out over the throne and the corpse of the king in a cloud of ash. Next thing we knew, the forgotten king was sitting astride the beast, charging toward us.

The Elven Falconer drew his longsword and ran forward, hoping to flank the beast. A gout of smoke and ash billowed out, the beast let out a mighty bellow.

The rest of us saw a vision of a thousand ghostly bulls rushing at us. The jester couldn’t escape. His soul was dragged away, leaving his lifeless body on the stone floor. Sneed was almost killed, but his soul barely pulled back from the brink.

The minstrel dove for cover behind a pillar and hit the beast with a thrown dagger.

Sneed swung his club at the bull's head, wildly missed, and ended up falling flat on his back, stunned.

Mortimer the Trapper stepped out and launched a rock with his sling, distracting the giant beast while the dwarven stonemason swung himself up onto the aurochs, positioning himself behind the Forgotton King. At the same time, the Elven falconer spun around and slashed at the aurochs, landing a vicious hit.

The forgotten king stood up and swung a giant axe at the elven falconer, landing a nearly mortal wound.

The minstrel punched. Sneed stood back up.

Mortimer fired another sling projectile, hitting the forgotten king in the forehead. The king shuddered, and for just a heartbeat the king and the bull of faded out of existence.

The Dwarven stonemason raised his hammer and smashed the king from behind. It crushed his skull. The aurochs faded out of existence, and the king's bones clattered to the floor, crumbling to dust.

With the king and his steed defeated, we looted the treasury.

The City Beneath the Burning Stars

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Mon, 26 Nov 2018 23:41:00 +0000

Oh hey. I started a new DCC campaign so I better start dumping setting content.

A city in the wastes. Ben-Dagra. Ruled by a sinister queen called the Hag or Beloved. Protected from the blistering stars by the Witch Wall, which covers the rich parts of the city. The Hag is protected by a legion of faceless armored guards called the Bronzemen. In the northeastward of the city is a huge pit that slowly cuts its way through the only safe sources of copper ore on the world. This is the lifeblood of the city, without which no one would bother to penetrate so far into the Waste. The Hag rules the city, but the day to day decisions in each district are made by the judges. Each renders justice as they see fit. As such the legal system of each district is vastly different from the next. Some solve disputes by ritual combat, others draconian rules that ordain every interaction, all backed by sprawling jails. All infants are taken to the Children’s Quarter when they reach seven days old, by force if necessary, to be raised by the Copper Matrons, a cadre of identical automatons. They remain for seven years then returned. This ensures the Hag will always have leverage over large swathes of Ben-Dagra. This has led to a cutthroat tattoo industry as the scions of noble families are indelibly marked to ensure their identity and return.

Districts

The Gold District
The Perfume Quarter
Children's Quarter
The District of Weavers
The District of Priests and Lepers
The Tumbledown Quarter
The Tanner’s District

Districts at a Glance

The Gold District is where the richest and most successful of Ben-Dagra reside in opulent palaces and elegant spires. It lies beneath the Witch Wall and is inoculated against the depredations of the Hydra. The palace of the Hag is here, called the the Tower of One-Thousand Eyes.

The Perfume Quarter is a walled city-within-a-city populated by the lovers, concubines, and spouses of the citizens. It lies beneath the Witch Wall, and is safe from the depredations of the Hydra. It gets its name from the abundant spices and perfumes which fill the hanging gardens, rotundas, and pleasure dens.

The Children's Quarter is a collection of enormous squat orphanages connected by narrow alleyways. Chalk graffiti in rainbow hues adorn all flat surfaces. Order is maintained by the Copper Matrons, who care for and protect their charges with impenetrable metal bodies. Outside of designated meal and sleep periods the children move freely within the district, but are shadowed at all time by at least one Matron.

The District of Weavers is a riot of textures. Infinite variegated cottons, silks, and brocades. This is a center of trade for the city, bringing merchants of all types to ply their wares between fabric stalls. Turquoise Arbiters ensure that thieves and forgers face immediate final justice. Below the streets crypt-looms sing, tended by weaver morlocks.

The District of Priests and Lepers is home to the holiest and most destitute of the city. The Hag commands no worship but of her illustrious Self. She also recognizes that enforcement of this edict would empower any movement against her, so she has banned the practice of religion outside of this district. Shrines to a thousand small gods line the tight streets. Layers of shacks blot out nearly all of the sun and hellish stars leaving only the light of guttering votives to guide travelers.

The Tumbledown Quarter is one of the oldest parts of the city, and includes the original wall that surrounded it before the discovery of copper. Now it rings with the sound of pick and anvil as the myriad slave miners dig up the raw ore to be fashioned into tools by skilled hands. As the strip mine has expanded in pursuit of the twisting veins many buildings have canted as their foundations dip. Some have fallen into the pit entirely.

The Tanner’s District lies outside the city gates to keep the stench from overwhelming civilization. Planted beside a series of geysers, acidic pools, and mudflats, the tanners can render nearly any creature in usable material. The walls are porous but the eyes many.

The Hydra

Each district, save the Gold District and Perfume Quarter, are haunted at night by a creature called the Hydra. The Hydra slays indiscriminately, choosing a different building each night and slaying all it finds within. No one knows what the beast looks like, all die before sharing what they have seen. The Bronzemen are quick to secure structures targeted by the Hydra

Factions

A thousand Noble Houses, of infinite splendor and hue
A thousand Cults, of infinite panoply and ritual
A thousand bands of Robbers, plying dark alleys and sand wastes
Seven Justiciary, acting as sole law in their district. Upheld by a thousand scribes and functionaries.

Dikes Fall, Session 5

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Mon, 09 Apr 2018 03:49:00 +0000

Tower of Babel by Brueghel

The party approached the central spire and see an enormous wooden gate. Mangus pushed the gate open "respectfully but firmly". Inside was a dimly-lit wide hallway, the pervading silence broken by the clip-clop of hooves approaching. Mangus growls.

"Who goes there?" a voice squeaks.

"Who goes there?" Mangus replies.

Detail from the Last Judgement,
Lucas Cranach the Elder

"Identify yourself, intruder!"

"It looks like a toad riding a centaur..." the Vamosh the elf whispers, using his infravision to pierce the dimness. What he sees is a horse with the dull face of a man, an enormous toad sits in the saddle atop the hybrid mount.

"I am Mangus, and I've come to collect your taxes."

"You do not collect taxes from the gnome princes," replies the man horse.

"Squeak!" cries its rider.

"We've come to claim this kingdom for the milk witch," Vamosh repies.

The toad draws its lance, and the horse sinks back into the darkness, preparing to charge. Vamosh casts Enlarge on Mangus, who grows by several feet and a hundred pounds. He charged in, feinting high, and then at the last second slashed at the man-horse's legs. The amphibious knight saw through the ruse and turned aside before its mount could be cut down under it. Annemarijn spews a gout of rainbows and glitter in the enclosed darkness. The toad squeaks and goes unconscious.

"My eyes!" The man-horse bellows, thrashing about trying to hit anyone nearby. The toad drools.

"Slay the mount, take the hostage!" Mangus growls. He can't land a hit on the chimerical beast. Annemarijn approaches with her club, but can't get close enough to land a hit. The man-horse flails wildly, missing Mangus but dealing a deadly blow to Annemarijn. Mangus does a spinning slash, severing the centaur's major arteries. It drops to the ground.

"Oh man, it's getting cold. So cold..." It's horse-face mutters, voice fading. Annemarijn scooped up the unconscious toad, wrapping him in her cloak and binding him with 50 feet of rope. Mangus finds a finely filigreed key on the toad's person. After several minutes, the toad wakes up and squeaks.

"You show us how to get to the top of the tower and we won't hurt you," Mangus says, grabbing the creature. "Play any dirty tricks and you'll pay! understand?" The toad squeaked .

Moving on the party explore a stable, silent and empty except for some rustling in the back corner. The Elf investigates, and sees an enormous riding mole in the stall. They decide not to mess with it and leave the stable. Using the toad's key they open a locked door, revealing a spiral staircase. The sound of fluttering come from the near ceiling. Annemarijn holds her torch up to get a better look, disturbing a cloud of bat-like creatures with papery wings and the squashed faces of pug dogs.

a bastardry, by myself

Mangus fired a crossbow bolt, disturbing the colony of pug-bats, who descend with keening shrieks. One scratches the Vamosh with a tiny wing dewclaw. The Elf tries to spear it, but fumbles and trips over himself. Mangus attempts to slice one in twain but the pug-bat dodges. Annemarijn backs away to the doorway and bats one of the bats with her (wooden) bat. One beast tears into Annemarijn, causing her to collapse from the mortal wound.

Vamosh throws some scales on the ground and they animate into 2 giant crocodiles. Due to mercurial nature of the spell a burst of green light bathes the area with healing energy and revives Annemarijn. She reeks like a snake house but at least she isn't dead. The crocodiles snap wildly at the pug-bats but can't hit them. After a long struggle the creatures lay in bloody piles across the room.

"Toad! why didn't you tell us about these bats?" Mangus demanded, but it only squeaks in terror.

Leaving the spiral staircase for another time, the group explores another few chambers, including a room full of statues of men and beasts and chimera. Mangus steps back out of the statue room, but Vamosh goes in to explore. It's eerily quiet inside but otherwise nothing of note. They also find a storage room full of enormous spools of brass chain.

Later they find a room and hear someone snoring inside. Mangus opens the door and the group creeps inside. Mangus wants to murder the sleeping figure, but Vamosh says we should tie him up instead. Mangus tries his best to approach the figure but wakes the sleeping figure instead.It opens its huge
mouth and rasps, "What's going on? Squeaks! What's going on?"

Dikes Fall, Session 4

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Tue, 27 Mar 2018 17:26:00 +0000

The Big Fish eat the Little Fish, Hieronymous Bosch

The party slow came back to its senses, stumbling around blind and confused for a moment, so they decided to make camp to recover. The unnatural orange light in the sky passed overhead and then night approached like a physical shroud. Mercifully the night passes without incident and the group enjoys fish-dogs roasted over the kindling remains of topiary children.

In the morning, Vamosh decides he wants to claim the land for the Elf King instead of the milk witch, so he begins making preparations to commune with him. The rest of the party wander the garden and find a small stone pedestal with a miniature coliseum on top. Inside was a menagerie of tiny, living animals locked in cages including a lion, bear, panther, crocodile, and an elephant.

From Thomas Bewick's Fables

After some discussion they decide to free the crocodile, it looks lethargic as it lazily suns itself in its cage. Mangus lifts the gate to the cage containing the crocodile, unleashing a magical curse that shrinks him to a tiny size and transports him inside the amphitheater beside the now open cage. The crocodile attacks! Mangus tries to maneuver around the long reptile and stab it in the head but it's too quick. It whips around and snaps at him, savagely tearing his legs. The wizard casts color spray, but the crocodile shuts its eyes and is unaffected. Annemarijn concludes that her spells won't work from outside the amphitheater.

Vamosh the Elf decides to go in, but fears releasing another beast, so he touches the crocodile cage to see if it will transport him inside. It works. Mangus leaps up and plunges right on top of the crocodile's mouth but it snaps at his feet and he does a little crocodile dance to stay away.

Annemarijn wants to help, but doesn't think it's wise for everyone to enter the miniature coliseum. She tries to think of a way to help and hefts the coliseum up at an angle to give Mangus and the Elf an advantage. The miniature is too heavy, but she does manage to give it a shake which causes the crocodile to stumble onto its side.

Jade crocodile, found on Etsy

The Elf seizes the moment and lunges at the crocodile, stabbing it through both kidneys with his spear, a critical hit! It starts gushing yellowish ichor from the wound and staggers in a daze. Mangus rushes forward and slices the crocodile with his longsword, slashing him along the full length of its body, finally killing it.

When the crocodile expired Mangus and Vamosh appeared back at normal size beside the miniature, and the crocodile was replaced by a small jade statue.

Vamosh went back to the standing stones and communed with his patron, the King of Elfland offering the domain of the gnome kingdom in exchange for assistance defeating the milk witch. He receives a vision from the king . He sees a symbolic representation of the king, surprised that such a low level servant has come with such a substantial offering. The King accepts, most pleased to accept the domain of the gnome brothers. The elf is handed an opalescent fern leaf. "If you plant this at the highest point of the tower, I will lay claim to this land, and personally handle the milk witch".

Awaking from the vision, Vamosh comes away with an intricately laced pattern of ferns permanently tattooed on either side of his forehead.

Dikes Fall, session 3

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Tue, 13 Mar 2018 19:14:00 +0000

The adventure continues at the bottom of the Sunken Pit.

Rifling through the gnome's belongings, they find a pouch of 60gp, a heavy pick, and a light crossbow. They continue exploring and find a room with a sour smell, lit by a few guttering candles. An ancient, bent woman steps into the light, candlelight barely illuminating her dusky skin.

Triptych from the
Garden of Earthly Delights, Hieronymous Bosch

"He was to give me part of his land,” the milk witch croaks. “And now I am left with nothing."

The party appeals to her sense of greed. With both brothers dead all the land could be hers. The gnomes have a kingdom deep below the earth, on the Other Side. It is a place she can’t go without an invitation, but the party can. If the group can lower the gnome's banner and raise the milk witch’s own she can lay claim to their lands.

“You can have anything within the castle but the demesne and castle are mine.”

They agree. To open the a way to the domain the Mangus retrieves the gnome’s body. The witch performs a strange ritual causing the corpse to warp and stretch into a portal almost but not quite entirely unlike a humanoid figure. The witch hands them a small packet with her banner and instructs then not to open until they’re in the tower. Then she’s gone, leaving only a sour odor of spoiled milk behind.

Beyond the impossible portal is a narrow stone passageway. As soon as they step through, the air turns hot and oppressively dry. The passageway is actually a narrow a ravine, or from above by a winking reddish glow. The ravine widens as it meanders through the cracked stone, revealing a fortress with two squat towers. Closer to the group is a high wall surrounded protecting the whole compound and encircling lush gardens. Mangus tosses a rope over and clambers up but falls into the garden. The rest of the party join the bruised and embarrassed tax collector at ground level. The party can spy four points of interest in the garden: a fish pond, a hedge labyrinth, a set of standing stones, and, distantly, the sound of animals just out of sight.

Detail from the Last Judgement,
Lucas Cranach the Elder

Suddenly the underbrush is filled with a rustling sound. A pack of fish creatures, running on pairs of long spindly legs, tear into sight yapping madly. "Sit!" Annemarjin yells, but it only goads the little fish-dogs into attacking. They skirmish for tense moments before gaining the upper hand on the fish-dog pack and driving the survivors off.

Vamosh goes to check out the standing stones and decides she wants to cast her Patron Bond spell there. They hear the sound of shoveling within the circle and go to investigate. It's a dwarf working on digging a hole for another standing stone coming later this week. He tells them that the masters are out, and only the staff are left now.

We go investigate the hedge labyrinth. Vamosh hears giggling from the other side of the hedge. It intensifies they approach the center of the labyrinth. In the center is a pergola on which four topiary children sit. As they come into view the and the laughter stops.

"I don't want to menace the hedges," Mangus grunts. There's a small chest beneath the pergola. Mangus does a quick assessment using his tax collector background and thinks it could contain 150 sp worth of treasure. He lights the wooden structure on fire. We hear a gasp as the flames consumes the pergola and topiary children. It doesn't spread to the rest of the labyrinth.

El Laberinto, Leonora Carrington

On their way out the pass through the labyrinth is barred by six more topiary children carrying bows. They have given up the pretense of being simple bushes and draw their bows. Opening fire they hit Annemarijn with a volley. Mangus lops the leafy head off of the children in the fracas. Arden tries to uproot one of them, but its roots are too strong. Annemarijn bashes with her club, but thorns sprout from her wooden weapon and nearly kill her. Arden stabs down into the ground, trying to get at the root of the topiary child. It drops dead at his feet. Annemarijn casts Color Spray with a boon from her fickle patron, imbuing it with ineffable cosmic power. All of the topiary children, and all of the party except for Vamosh and Annemarijn are dazed by the psychadelic blast of chaos, knocking them unconscious and blind. The Elf makes quick work of the disabled enemies, but the rest of the party lies dead to the world .

Dikes Fall, Session 2

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Fri, 02 Mar 2018 14:00:00 +0000

Dramatis Personae

Vamosh Amuerte, elven glassblower

Mangus, tax collector and warrior-for-hire

Arden Diodross, guild beggar and sellsword

Annemarijn the Astrologist, herbalist and wizard

Section from The Dutch Proverbs,
Pieter Brueghel the Elder

The two survivors from the first adventure head back to town with the tavern owner's wife to collect their reward. Unfortunately, all the ale in the tavern has been transmuted into spoiled milk. Tavern owner's wife reminded the party that there's another gnome in the Sunken Pit, and he had a milk witch in his service.

They return to the Sunken Pit and quickly encounter the gnome, but rather than chasing him they tried to circle around and ambush him. They met a deranged dwarf carving a "stone child". He warns of death to the north. In another chamber they stir up a nest of rats. Arden attempts to scare them off with his torch, but almost drops it. Mangus charges in but the sword slips from his hand (because the grips are going bad and he needs to replace them). Annemarijn splats two rats with her club and Mangus stomps on another. The rest disperse and flee the room.
to explore the dungeon more and ran into the

Moving on, they found a door protected with a strange sigil. With some difficulty, Vamosh deciphered the script and identified it as a fire rune. Arden got a perfect hit with a slingstone to trigger the lock mechanism on the door and caused the fire rune to erupt in a massive draft of flames.

Finding a set of doors with a deathly smell coming from them, Mangus kicked open the door discovered two tall still figures dressed like mummers and the final gnomish brother. Vamosh cast Enlarge on Mangus, who charged in. Arden impales one of the tall figures with his spear, revealing them as walking corpses.

Mangus stomped in and punted the gnome onto a set of rusty spikes embedded in the chamber's walls. The gnome screamed in pain and disbelief, "What have you done?" before bleeding out.

Arden lit one of the street performer mummies on fire, sending its ashes curling toward the ceiling. Annemarjin cuts herself in penance for her past failures to cast Color Spray again, but the last deathless thing resists. Mangus makes quick work of the last mummified street performer, and gives the gentlest fist bump the enlarged warrior can manage to Vamosh.

We ran out of time to complete the dungeon after defeating the gnome, the players opted to leave things hanging until we played again.

Dikes Fall, Session 1

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Wed, 28 Feb 2018 15:43:00 +0000

The past year I've ran a biweekly game of Dungeon Crawl Classics set in a fantastical Netherlands I call

A pastiche of every psychedelic Northern Renaissance painting I could get my hands on, especially my man Hieronymus Bosch. That means all monsters become nightmare chimeras fully of forgotten symbolism. The themes are mostly traditional murderhobos navigating between the monolithic forces of Church, Nobility, and Pagan things from the dark.

The campaign focuses on Hertogenbosch, a city of trade and culture in the Low Countries. It is more or less the city the PCs call home. In classic DCC fashion I had each player roll a trio of 0-level peasants in preparation of the mayhem. The first session had incomplete minutes, they get great in every other session.

The proprietor of a public house called the Jolly Limpet, your favorite den of sin, has called upon you to rescue his wife. A pair of gnomish brothers have absconded with her, taking her to their home in a cave beside the river Meuse called the Sunken Pit. The reward? A casque of his finest. Topped up with liquid bravery and your closest dozen friends, you braved the darkness of the pit. Many of them fell, but you have killed one of the brothers and rescued the wife.

The Spoils
100 gp, split between the surviving members of the party, 1 heavy pick, 1 silver ring, 1 locked wooden chest, 1 demonic war mask

A Question of Gall

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Thu, 05 Mar 2015 21:08:00 +0000

A gall is an amazing thing. Formed by a plant when a parasitic wasp injects an irritant into it, they take a huge variety of forms. Check this out.

That lights me up. So many gameable possibilities! I smell a series coming on!

The Enclave Devil

The walls between the planes are not so much thick as antithetical to one another. Like oil and water, or oil and fire, they either remain unmixed or destroy each other on contact. Extraplanar intrusions will be inexorably drawn back to their origins, like a balloon held underwater. However, there are beings in other worlds who take great interest in the possibilities of other planes. The devils, aggressive thoughtforms, and rogue engrams of the outer spheres puncture normal space and inject it with pieces of themselves to open the way for future conquest. Succubi, incubi, dark rituals, each acts to change the world to match elsewhere, or encyst a piece of one plane in another. The enclave devil is not a singular type of creature, but a multitude of beings. Each plane develops its own more or less stable shape, although most are humanoid. They are vectors for alien planes, driven to scratch out galleries and tunnels that have both mystical significance and act to thin the walls between worlds. Enclave devils also directly scratch at the barrier between the planes, creating breaches through which other extraplanar beings can move freely.

Enclave Devil Forms

Worm-centaur
Scuttling, emaciated thing
Bulbous glutton
Cobweb thing, composed of diaphanous webs
Eyes and teeth whirling in the air
Red-skinned humanoid. Blank, eggshell face
Humanoid with exoskeleton like an insect
Shadow person
A muscular man with the head of a star-nosed mole
A floating array of glittering sigils

Enclave Devil: Init +4; Atk extraplanar claws +0 melee (1d6, ignores non-magical armor); AC 13; HD 1d8; MV 30’; Act 1d20; SP may scratch through any barrier, 1’x1’x1’ per hour; SV Fort +0, Ref +3, Will +1; AL based on home plane.

The Planar Ram

An enclave devil is comparatively weak, and on its home plane it lacks the ability to cross to another. Aggressive dimensions make use of a carrier organisms to insert enclave devils and other creatures into other planes. Planar rams usually break through in areas of intense magical energy, such as dungeons or wizard towers. They have also been known to break through deep underground, allowing enclave devils to cut extraplanar catacombs undisturbed for years before the inevitable breach. The results are rarely positive for the plane they have invaded.

Planar Ram Forms

Enormous, almost immobile, square humanoid, body dominated by wooden door
Streamlined, aquatic shape, enormous maw opens portal
Skeletal figure with an exposed ribcage opens to the beyond
A thin ring of stretched skin and bone
Floating multidimensional shape bends space around it to create a portal
A mystical circle slowly rotates on a flat surface, it’s mandala-like designs spin when it open a portal within itself
Bulbuous, faintly pulsing organ attached to nearly surfaces with ropey sinew. A large valve acts as a portal
Tall, thin humanoid made of cracked earth. Hollow. Inverts pieces of its anatomy to reveal a portal within
An animate bronze statue, many-limbed. It carries on its back a portal ring
A floating tear in space, causing the air around it to howl

Planar Ram: Init +0; Atk limbs+0 melee (1d6), portal explosion +2 ranged (1d8); AC 15; HD 3d8; MV 20’; Act 1d20; SP Planar radiation (characters within 5’ take 1 damage per round due to the otherworldly energies it radiates); SV Fort +2, Ref -1, Will +2; AL based on home plane.

Witchflies

A witchfly is a fist-sized insect that looks like a cross between a wasp and a stick insect. Found in temperate swamps, they go through a relatively normal life cycle that undergoes major changes when intelligent humanoids are closeby. A female will seek out a sleeping humanoid and deposit 1d6 eggs under the scalp. Each egg release a substance which forms a growth on the skull called a witchgall. The hair falls out from around the spot, then a hollow, round knob of bone grows. The space fills with elastic brain tissue, making it the perfect home for the creatures. The witchfly eggs feed on the neural impulses and cerebrospinal fluid, growing faster and larger in the presence of magic. Once an egg is large enough the larval witchflies will burrow free, either breaking out of the skull and flittering away, an agonizing process at best, or eat its way deeper into the brain.

A wizard inflicted with witchgalls can tap into the increased brain mass to better cast their spells. They add +1 to their spell rolls and saving throws to resist the effects of spells cast against them while inflicted with a witchgall. However, the galls also leave them more open to the warping effects of magic, add +1 to corruption rolls. These effects are cumulative for each witchgall inflicted upon the character, to a maximum of +5. To determine if a witchgall breaks open secretly roll a d10 for each when a PC casts a spell. On a 1 the egg has hatched. The PC must make a DC17 Fort save. If they succeed they take 1d6 damage as the insect burrows out of the skull. If they fail they take 1d10 damage and permanently lose 1d3 Intelligence as the insect chews its way deeper into the brain.

Effects of having a witchfly wrapped around your medulla
1-5: nothing
6: You have a compulsion to seek out and consume worms and vermin.
7: You no longer blink. You no longer need to blink.
8: You now sleep, 1: 4 hours a day, 2: 12 hour a day.
9: You gain 2d6 inches in height over the next two weeks as your pituitary goes into overdrive.
10: Whatever god the witchflies belong whispers to you in the dark hours. Making demands. It has plans, so many plans.

Waspgonnes

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Wed, 07 Jan 2015 03:50:00 +0000

Did you miss me? The last year has been a whirlwind, but I start a new job soon which should give me a little more breathing space for things like running (and playing!) more games. Never mind Secret Santicore, which I did lots of layout work for. There is so much good stuff this year, it's going to blow your mind! It just has to work its way through a final editing pass and then it will be out in the wild, raiding campsites and eating tourists. And now, a little new content for the Jungles of And, west of Ig and full of nasty critters.

The jungles of And burst with life. Fifty creatures vie for every inch. The glittering scale wing, air grouper, and howling gribbon all compete to survive among the green canyons. Buzzing in the dappled light are dozens of wasps in variegated hues and all sizes.

The folk of And turn this riot to their own ends. Local hunters carry long-barreled air-powered fusils they call waspgonnes. Each is a work of art, hand-tooled from tropical hardwood, sinew, and polished chitin. Waspgonnes use a small bellows to fire a large wasp at their target. The weapon is pressurized, a glass jar containing a wasp is loaded into the firing chamber of the waspgonne, which draws the insect into the firing chamber, and the weapon is ready to fire whenever the trigger is squeezed. Activating the weapon accelerates the wasp along the barrel at whatever the hunter is aiming at. The flight and ensuing impact enrages the insect, which furiously bites and stings whatever it strikes. The wasp is not expected to survive, but the damage it inflicts is usually sufficient to dispatch a target. A waspgonne is also almost silent, only a quiet hiss announces its use.

Hunters raise the insects in mesh cages beside their lodges. Before an excursion the cages are flooded with woodsmoke allowing the wasps to be collected. Note: only females have stingers. Their wings are clipped and then they are sealed into individual glass jars. The hunters carry these jars in belts and bandoliers.

a waspgonne

Insects used for a waspgonne include the biter, stinger, libertine, and redeater. A biter is any small calibre wasp without venom. A stinger has a deadly venom. A libertine is smaller wasp with unclipped wings. The hunter makes an initial shot with a pheremone packet, then fires the libertine which will inexorably seek out the packet. The redeater is any oversized or especially vicious wasp. There are other, stranger types of wasp used by the most experienced hunters like the gall wasp, paper tiger, and black ghost, but they are rarely used.

A Waspgonne has the range of a longbow and must be wielded with both hands. The bellows takes 5 minutes to fill, and is good for 10 shots once charged. Wasp jars save at -2 due to their fragility, should the occasion arise.

Almost all waspgonnes are one-off pieces built by hunters, but they may be talked into selling an older piece for 60 gp. Wasps cost 5 gp, but are rarely for sale.

Wasp Ammunition

Biter (1d6)

Stinger (1d6 + poison, CON save or 1d4 damage for 1d6 rounds)

Redeater (1d8)

Pheremone packet (0, lasts 3 rounds, +5 to-hit with Libertines)

Libertine (1d4)

The Fatigue Eater

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Tue, 14 Oct 2014 19:24:00 +0000

Numenera does interesting things with characters, effort, and health. They're composed of a trio of pools which act as both a resource pool to use to make tasks easier or attacks more damaging, but they also act as health. It leads to an interesting balancing act where the player must make some sacrifices to avoid getting hit with something terrible, and be strategic about when to cast that giant spell. So what if a monster fed off that resource?

Nivunco, level 2 (4)

The nivunco, or fatigue eater, is a dangerous predator in the Ninth World. Unwelcome in city and wilderness alike, it takes the form of a gaunt, man-sized quadruped covered in long dark hair. It crawls on it's belly on four long limbs, moving in an unpleasantly human manner. Its long body lacks a discernible head, terminating in a hairless snout which writhes and twitches as it sniffs out its prey.

A fatigue eater has a two-part diet, psychic and physical. It feeds off the fatigue an organism experiences, picking it up as psychic static from miles away. Once the nivunco locates it's quarry it will ceaselessly hunt it down. In many cases the creature will let itself be seen before attacking, heightening the paranoia and stress the quarry feels.

However, the creature's tracking ability hinges on the quarry's fatigue. If the quarry were to remove the fatigue, by sleeping or completing whatever task is so testing than the nivunco would have nothing to track. The greater the stress the more nourishing the nivunco finds its prey. The more psychic distress the prey releases the stronger the creature gets. It's physical and mental capabilities increase in step with the diminished capacity fatigue brings. For every 3 points a PC spends from their pool, for any reason except damage, the nivunco's level increases by one.

When the fatigue eater has sufficiently softened its prey through harrying tactics it goes for in for the kill. It grapples its quarry with its gangley limbs, beating them into submission with its blunt claws. When its prey has collapsed it uses its long snout to completely drain the body of blood. After sating itself on the lifeblood of its prey it creeps back to its den to sleep off its meal, a process that can often take years.

Motive: Food
Environment: Any wilderness, especially high moors
Health: 12
Damage Inflicted: 3 points
Armor: 0
Movement: Short
Modifications: Tracks at level 7, all other tasks involving their quarry at level 5
Interaction: The nivunco is little smarter than an animal, but telepathic communication is possible. They are simple creatures and could be thrown off by mental effects.

Enter the Singing Hill

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Wed, 08 Oct 2014 04:29:00 +0000

I've sat on an adventure for the last two years waiting till I had time and everything 1000% perfect before I release it unto the wild. That's never going to happen, so I'm biting the bullet and putting it out up here in it's mostly complete state for the betterment of all mankind. It rough around the edges, but I learned a lot working on it from both a design and procedural standpoint. I wrote it for DCC, but it should work for nearly anything.

Like goblins? Like bees? Like bees and goblins and degenerate underground jerks? Need a low-level dungeon to throw your fresh peasants into? This might serve that need.

The Singing Hill

Threats on the Lake of Woe

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Tue, 04 Feb 2014 21:23:00 +0000

Continuing my series on the Lake of Woe, here are two of the biggest threats in the area.

Brinewing

All dragons are forces of entropy. They may put on a veneer of civility but beneath the facade is a drive for the unordering of all things, the breaking down of man and beast and stone into dust and the hastening of the heat death of the universe. It was dragons who looked with hate on the light of the Big Bang, and dragons that will suck the last cold marrow from the universe before taking each other apart in final destruction. Inevitably the land around a dragon is inexorably degraded by its presence.

AC: 1 (18)

HD: 8

Attacks: 2 claws, 1 bite, 1 tail slap, or breath

Damage: 1d6/3d6/1d8/*

Save: F7

Morale: 9

Movement: 30’ Fly 90’ Swim 60’

XP: 2,200

*Brinewing can release a blast of concentrated salt from her mouth in a cone 90’ long and 30’ wide 3 times a day. It deals half her current HP in damage, or save for half that. Anyone caught in the blast is slowed for 1d3+1 rounds from the crust of salt that covers them.

Brinewing’s serpentine body is long and sinuous. Whipcord muscles twitch in stark relief beneath her hide. Her head is heavily plated and topped with a sharp frill that extends like a thorny crown. Her wings are thin and ragged on long finger-like pinions. Her breath is superheated salt, and can strip the water from a man in seconds. Entombing them forever in a briny shell. She is naturally magical, counts as a 6th level magic user, and knows the following spells: Level 1: Putrefy Food and Drink (50’ range), Pass Without Trace, Spider Climb 3/day. Level 2: Invisibility, ESP 2/day. Level 3: Feign Death 1/day

Brinewing is crafty, preferring to weaken intruders to her home long before facing them directly. She will approach a group invisibility and use her magic to ruin their supplies, turning their water to brine and food to rot. Then she will leave them to suffer, letting the arid terrain sap their strength until she feels they’re suitably softened. Only then will she face them directly.

Wandering Psyche

The extreme asceticism the monks of the Clay Palace undertake does strange things to their minds. The hours they spend in a trance state weakens the connection between their physical bodies and causes their minds to drift. After a few decades the mind is almost entirely unhinged from the mortal shell and drifts around the Lake of Woe freely. They appear like numinous strands taking the form of an indistinct humanoid figure. They communicate directly to every mind telepathically, but speak in a endless stream of koans, chants, and stream of consciousness ramblings. Enlightenment gives a wandering psyche an entirely alien motivation, never add modifiers to their reaction roll.

Encounters: 1-3

AC: 3(17)

HD: 4

Attacks: 1 Mantra

Damage: 1d6

Save: F4

Morale: 8

Movement: 30’

XP: 300

A Wandering Psyche recites ceaseless mantras which have supernatural effects on the creatures around them. Each round of combat a Wandering Psyche uses one of the following Mantra:

Brainshock: target save versus spell or take 1d6 damage.

Skinride: the Wandering Psyche attempts to take control of a body as in the Magic Jar spell. Unlike the spell the host’s soul is subsumed, not removed, and may attempt a save versus spell each round at -2 to eject the Wandering Psyche.

Water Vampire: target takes 1d6 Con damage as the Psyche pulls the moisture from their body.

Koan: 30' save versus spell or be affected as Confusion spell

The Lake of Woe

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Thu, 16 Jan 2014 22:03:00 +0000

The Lake of Woe is a salt lake in an unpeopled corner of wilderness. It is fed by springs descending from the glacial peaks to the east. Five years ago the lake was fresh. When the dragon Brinewing was driven from the western shipping lanes by the sea kings she blocked the lake’s outlets and let it grow brackish. Now the lake is desolate, denuded of all but the hardiest plant life with shores littered with the mummified remains of creatures that have displeased her. The only movement on the shores of the Lake of Woe today are the clouds of flies which cover everything like a vile black carpet.

Brinewing is a salt dragon. She measures thirty feet long in a sickly yellow, muted by a thick crust of salt that has built up on her scales from bathing in the Lake of Woe. She is not particularly intelligent but is vain, territorial, and easily enraged. In place of fire she breathes clouds of superheated salt which burn and desiccate. Her lair lies in the most inhospitable southern sections of the lake on a peninsula of stone and crenelated salt. During the day she is more likely to be found sunning herself on the shores to the east of the lake or flying paranoid circles over her watery territory. The only creatures she permits to approach her presence are her ‘pets,’ the brine shrimp which infest the waters of the lake and can grow to an enormous size.

Hidden in the hills to the west is the Clay Palace, a monastery of salt monks dedicated to achieving enlightenment through self denial and desiccation. The Clay Palace proper is a compound of mud brick building on the shores of the lake, but the coming of Brinewing drove the the monks away. Now it lies abandoned, a ramshackle monument to the dragon’s dominance. The survivors carved out rows of cells along the canyon walls south beyond the dam the dragon created from shattered mountain pinnacles. Here they are protected from the dragon’s sight by overhanging stone. The wisest of their order are little more than leathery husks. Their minds are only lightly tethered to their almost immobile bodies, and drift throughout the region like silent ghosts. Should something threaten the monastery can steal the water from less enlightened monk’s bodies and achieving a lurching mobility. Their mental wanderings have left them utterly without empathy and terrifying in combat.

Encounters

The buzzing clouds of salt flies become impossibly thick, sucking the moisture from bare skin and creeping into mouths and noses
Salt mephits
The salt crust covering the ground here gives way, uncovering a large sinkhole. Contains: 1-salt water 2-nest of hungry brine shrimp 3-jagged old bones 4-caustic mineral bath 5-meditation chamber of a salt monk 6-treasure
A gale kicks up a wall of acrid dust, cutting visibility to mere feet and scouring unprotected flesh, it lasts for 1d6 hours
1d6 pilgrims to the Clay Palace. Either 1-3 arriving, or 4-6 departing
The wandering psyche of an elder salt monk
Mummified remains of the dragon’s victims, a quarter of the time the corpses will rise as undead: 1-2 caravan, 1d6 humanoids, 1d4 pack animals 3- 1d6 wolves 4-2d8 herd animals 5-bats 6-giant eagle
A quartet of salt monks carrying the body of an elder on a palanquin
The blasted wreck of a small village, 1 in 6 are inhabited by something horrible
Mirages appear, hauntingly real until touched: 1- rows of saltwhite children 2-oasis 3-attacking army 4-crystal castle 5-apocalyptic vision 6-the dragon
The rainbow-colored crust around this dried pond is a potent drug: 1-2-hallucinogen 3-4-stimulant 5-6-deadly poison
Brinewing appears

More info on Brinewing, the Clay Palace, and a map forthcoming!

Numenera: The Aged Daemon and the Mist-Shrouded Tower

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Mon, 06 Jan 2014 21:01:00 +0000

This will be the last Numenera session report for a while! The group has dissolved for the holidays, to be picked up some time in 2014. Hopefully. Part 1 Here. Part 2 here.

Blocked from retreat on all sides by the flying creatures the party prepared for a hard fight. Turning to their cyphers the party was quickly able to turn the tide, creating an illusory version of the jumble to distract the fiends and a wall of flame that belched from another device. The battle went well for the group, the distractions and fire were able to quickly dispatch their foes. They continued up the ramp, ascending for what seemed like an eternity up the long spiral to the top. The tunnel opened up into an enormous circular room. The walls looked like glass, looking out they could see a thick miasma of clouds rolling past. The room seemed empty except for a large console in the center of the room, around which several of the flying creatures made agitated orbits.

As they approached the console it the room shook. Every surface in the room pulsed, almost like a heartbeat, then the console began to animate. Panels opened and long skeletal limbs unraveled, and featureless birdlike mask pistoned up on a neck of twisting cables and ceramic plates. Deep in the sockets of the mask lights burned crimson. It was the room, the walls pulsed with its movements. It spoke, but its voice sounded like wind chimes and soft piping. Turning to their cyphers they managed to cobble together a rough translation of the aged daemon’s message. It was hard to follow, as the thing spoke almost entirely in feelings and jargon, and inhuman metaphor. Something had broken in the system the thing was created to oversee. The creatures it had been created to protect were being released but this was wrong. The thing couldn't reach out to its fellows to fix anything.

As it spoke the clouds outside the window thinned, showing the view for what it really way. The view beyond that clouds was the patchwork of fields and wilderness around Jaston viewed from far too high to be coming from the complex the party had explored. This was somewhere else, and when schools of dark bullet-shapes began to drop past the view they knew they had to find some way to stop them. The daemon agreed, but with a terrible sadness.

The group hatched a plan to use flying device they’d found earlier (the Primicarium) to fly up through the clouds to face whatever lay above. Leaving the daemon behind they took the artifact outside and leapt aboard. Their ascent started slowly but sped up as they experimented with the controls. They accelerated through packs of the flying monsters, keeping them at bay with a volley of esoteries and crossbow fire. Leaving the monsters behind they pushed through the clouds. An enormous tower loomed out of the miasma, hanging unsupported in the air.

They entered through a hollow section at the base of the tower. The whole interior of the tower was open and contained thousands of the cubes that contained the flying creatures in stasis. Pushing farther into the tower they discovered another circular room, but instead of clouds the screens showed view of the tower and the creatures awakening within.

This chamber held a matching daemon, but only hate shone out of its hollow eye sockets. It was immediately aggressive, wrapping itself in flying creatures and warping the room with vicious pulses. Sections of floor and ceiling articulated themselves and moved to crush the party. They could barely keep their feet, but attacked as best they could. They'd barely chipped away at the daemon and taken heavy damage from the room when the dashing jack leapt over a section of floor as it swept past and got a perfect shot with his crossbow directly at the daemon. It saw its death then and threw up panels to block it. It couldn't rearrange the room quickly enough to stop the bolt, and with a shriek the bolt pierced the daemon's mask and left a sparking hole out the other side.

The thing let out a shriek and the room gave a tremendous lurch. The tower began to buckle and heave beneath their feet, and they barely had time to claim the thing's mask from its wreck before fleeing back to the Primicarium. They raced to to get away from the falling superstructure, overtaxing their artifact vehicle which shut down right as they reached the ground. They had moments to take cover before the tower crashed to earth reached them. A wall of dust and grit rolled over them as the structure struck the earth with a boom that rolled through their bones. They'd stopped the dark creatures, but the land around Jaston would never be the same.

Suffice to say they weren't especially welcome back in town.

Numenera: The Lung Machine and the Primicarium

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Tue, 17 Dec 2013 20:15:00 +0000

This is part 2, part 1 is here and part 3 here.

Descending down a spiral ramp the party discover a body slumped against a wall. It was a man, alive but near death. On his neck gaped a set of gills. They were able to revive him by pouring water on these gills, but he was too weak to answer any questions. The stairwell opened into another large chamber, but the way was blocked by an invisible barrier. The jumble was able to push the numbing field and disable the barrier at great physical cost. He disabled the field by tearing open a panel. Atop a pedestal inside was a rectangular device bigger than a man, sitting atop a quartet of heavy wires. The machine shuddered into life as the party inspected it, lifting itself on the articulated cables and opening a door like a great mouth. It swallowed the jumble whole, bound him with metal restraints, and slammed shut with a boom. He managed to keep one arm free and began to hack at the machine with a knife.

The rest of the party tried to free him from outside, slicing through the cables and trying to force the door back open. Meanwhile, the poor jack trapped inside quickly discovered the device’s purpose as a heavy collar locked his head in place and began to remove his lungs. Yes. Remove his lungs. He was able to break free of half the collar with his knife, but the other began to auger away at his neck. The floating kid was able to slide his blade into the crack of the door and with a burst of gravitic force blew the door open. They tore the jack from the machine, slicing through the restraints in a shower of sparks and pale blue gel. The dashing man pulled the stricken jack free then destroyed the machine with a flurry of crossbow bolts into its internal mechanics. The pitiful jack scrabbled at the collar around his neck for a moment before pulling it free, trailing several feet of tubing from the long slits cauterized cleanly on his neck.

The man had gills. Only one set. That pulsed ineffectually in the thin air on one side of his neck.

Everyone freaked out for a moment then.

Picking over the remains of the Lung Machine they discovered an artifact, another collar. They discovered it would work like as a gas exchange, and returning to the dying man in the hall fitted it around his neck. It unfolded like a jacobean ruff and almost immediately color began to return to the man’s face. He introduced himself as Gabex, a numenera hunter who had traveled to these ruins with a group. All he could remember was pushing through the field, then everything going black. He begged the group to take him along, and they let him follow along behind.

Finding no other exits they went back outside to try the other passage. The other passage smelled of woodsmoke. A wide room beyond had been turned into a camp, the remains of a fire smoldered on the pale floor, and gear and blankets were strewn about. Also a body, chewed up like the remains at Genson’s steading. Beyond was a long hall with several adjoining rooms, some broken open, some still sealed. In one room they found large cubes of ancient material that horn when touched and seemed lighter than they should have been for their size. Using a cypher they looked through the walls, and decided to break into a chamber of deep blue pools. This proved to be something of a mistake as the water in the pools animated and attempted to drown the group. They were able to keep the water weirds at bay with their esoteries, and managed to sneak past them and collect a cache of cyphers from a pool of acid by luring the weirds into it.

In another room they found a long silvery device made of coiled cables and plates nearly 8 feet long, resting on a series of short pedestals. On one end it had something like a saddle but in the place of reigns it had only a series of inset holes in a mysterious pattern. By experimentation with the holes the group discovered that it could be made to float into the air. Deciding to leave it for further study later, they traveled further along the hallways to a spiral ramp that led upward. They found dark cylinders filled with dark shapes In alcoves set in the outer wall of the ramp. When touched they began to dissolve, releasing one of the dark creatures that attacked them at the farm. Turning to flee they found their way blocked by more of the flying things descending from the ramp above!

JOESKY TAX

The Lung Machine (Level 5)

Gill Ruff

This slab-like machine moves about on four thick articulated cables. It has a large door on its front which is usually leaves ajar, tempting the curious to investigate. Its original programming corrupted eons ago, and now it lies in wait like a crocodile. It will attempt to snap up anyone who comes close (GM Intrusion.) PCs have one round to escape before the Lung Machine’s internal restraints lock in place. After that it will begin to bore out the character’s lungs and replace them with a set of gills. This takes 5 rounds and will deal 2 Might damage a round. If deactivated the Lung Machine contains 5 cypers including a Gill Ruff, a device worn around the neck that allows a gilled humanoid to breathe air safely. Should the machine be more drastically dispatched the ruff has a 50% of being damaged and unusable.

The Primicarium

Taking the form of a seven foot long needle composed of tightly wrapped cables and plates, the Primicarium is a flying machine from a lost age. It has a saddle-like indentation at one end inset with a series of deep holes in a precise configuration. These are actually controls for ascent, descent, and speed, and with some experimentation anyone can learn to pilot the vehicle. It handles and accelerates slowly, but the upper limit is beyond a human’s ability to stay on. On discovery it will have power for up to 1d6 hours of flight, after which it will become inert. Refueling a Primicarium is an adventure in itself.

Primicarium controls

Numenera: the Scuttling Vivisctors and the Aquarium

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Fri, 06 Dec 2013 20:33:00 +0000

For the last few months I've been running Numenera. It’s been a lot of fun, the system is light enough to grasp immediately but with enough hooks and crunchy bits to keep it all from feeling too samey. It’s setting drifts far enough from standard fantasy to let me go very weird early and often. The one rule my brain can never remember is GM Intrusion. Any time you would pixel bitch or whatever a player in another game you instead offer a GM Intrusion. If they accept they get XP and bad things happen to them. If not then nothing. All those times my players should have said “We search the room!” and instead walk into certain doom I must preface with “Would you like to be hosed?” I should give my players a little flag to wave when I screw them over to remind me about it. A session report follows:

Meanwhile, in the Ninth World, word had begun to spread that a cache of numenera had been discovered somewhere outside Jaston. Being of a parochial sort the locals wouldn't touch the stuff, so traders, thieves, and greedy folk of all sorts were descending on the town. This included the party, a dashing jack in a hat, a shady nano cobbled together from spare parts and meat, and a chilling glaive wielding a glass sword. After a short stop in Jaston, long enough to piss off an entire bar, punch their way out, and pick up a floating local nanokid, they set off in the direction of the crevasse where the numenera had been found. After a day’s travel they stopped at Genson’s farm. The place was deserted, with nothing but a half-mad, badly wounded aneen still alive. The discovery of a trapdoor in the main house led them into the basement, but not before releasing a pair of shadowy, flying things into the evening air. The remains of Genson and his family were found below with horrible weals and deep bites marring their forms.
Their paranoia raised, the party barricaded themselves inside the farmhouse and set watch for the night. Soon a tremendous banging began at the windows and doors as somethings tried to force its way inside. The black squamous things had returned with their brood, forcing up the door and windows and flying inside. The group repelled the creatures with esotery and bolt, and was nearly overwhelmed before a timely kitchen fire drove the things off, leaving one of their number oozing black ichor and sparking in its death throes. The party decided to sleep the rest of the night in the open air, protected by a roaring bonfire.
After an uneasy night in the open the group continued on to the crevasse. It cut a deep scar across the rolling plains, bisecting an ancient ruin. A long hallway lay open to the air, pale stone or synth gleaming at the bottom. After a short climb they reached the closest tunnel. Through it was a large round chamber filled with glowing symbols that made slow pirouettes around the room, while smaller gleaming discs scattered and wheeled like schools of fish. The discs were attracted the party, but gave painful shocks to whoever they touched. This distracted everyone from the scuttling vivisectors hidden behind the swirling holograms. These lobster-like synthetics had arrays of scalpels and surgical tools on long articulated arms with which they attempted to implant the discs into the group’s bodies. After a confusing melee the vivisectors and most of the discs lay in pieces on the dusty floor. We ended the session there.

JOESKY TAX

The Aquarium

This circular room is full of confusing holographic displays and a cloud of schooling AI. Hiding behind the displays are scuttling vivisectors.

Schooling AI are small discs that float freely in the air and deliver jolts to whatever they touch. They are controlled by simple processes that keep them moving in schools throughout a set area. These are level 1 foes, but they cannot be hit by normal weapons. PC’s in the area of a school of these things take a point of Might damage each round from electric shock, ignoring armor.

Scuttling Vivisectors are synthetic creatures that look similar to marine lobsters, but bristle with surgical tools. They are level 2 foes, but hide at Level 3. They will attempt to implant Schooling AI discs into PC’s on a successful attack. Implanted discs deal an extra point of damage each round. PC’s with 4 or more discs implanted will be lifted into the air and all actions will be one step more difficult.

This is part 1 of 3. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here.

From the Zones -- Brain Jelly

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Tue, 19 Nov 2013 00:47:00 +0000

An entry for +John Till's From the Zones community project!

Zones are places where the laws of reality roll up like hot linoleum. One of the stranger anomalies are what has come to be known as 'brain jelly.' No physical vector has been been found but the Institutes postulate that it is the side effect of an unknown form of radiation. It has no dramatic effect, stalkers who find themselves in an area of brain jelly rarely discover so until it is far too late. The process begins slowly, a stalker might notice a blue stain on ground beside him, or a pool of azure liquid, but more likely nothing. His mind will begin to spin. This first seems natural, the highly tuned senses stalkers need to survive are especially sensitive today, but the stalker's thoughts come faster and faster. This is the first and final warning that he is in incredible danger. If he can get away from the area then he might survive. A moment later and a blue liquid will begin to slowly sweat from his head. This goes unnoticed until it begins to fill his mask or goggles, but by then it is too late. The stalker panics, blue sweat becomes rivulets as his mind races. It quickly coalesces into a jelly. This jelly is incredibly slippery, as it covers the stalker's body he becomes helpless. This slippery state is what kills most stalkers, they fall off ledges or into other anomalies, but those who rest gently have it worst, they're slowly entombed by brain jelly, suffocated by their own thoughts. By the next morning their bodies are gone, leaving only a blue stain where they lay.

I once heard of a team of scientists who ran afoul of brain jelly, it devoured even faster them as they tried to think up an escape from the clammy blue surrounding them. Only a single half-witted bodyguard made it out alive.

A PC can safely stay in an area affected by Brain Jelly up to (20-Intelligence) rounds. After that the brain jelly will begin to form. Save vs Petrify or the PC will be trapped in the blue gel and permanently lost.

Beast Kings

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Thu, 29 Aug 2013 20:46:00 +0000

The Nemean lion, Jaws, the White Hart, all exemplar animals of extreme rarity and potency. These kind of singular creatures are common in story and myth. Outside of dire whatevers D&D doesn't have a lot of monsters like this, and that just makes a critter grouchy and cro magnon. We need more weirdness! When your players go into the deepest, darkest part of the forest in pursuit of something Old King Boar lies ready to repel invaders in his kingdom, and he needs more heft! This requires tables. When you create a legendary monster, beast king, ornery old thing, or what have you, roll on the Legendary Features table.

Legendary Features (roll 1d12)

This creature is enormous for its breed, up to double the size of a normal specimen. Roll an extra 1d4 hit dice. How did it get that way? Roll 1d6, 1 Cannibalism, 2 Divine Parentage, 3 Extreme Age, 4 Eating Children, 5 Worship, 6 The King’s Sin
Blood-colored eyes roll madly in protruding sockets seeking life to rend and tear. +2 to hit.
Slavering jaws curl back from a maw packed with needle-sharp teeth. Increase bite damage by one die type (1d4 becomes 1d6, etc) or gain a bite attack at 1d4 damage
Baroque and terrible horns crown this animal’s brow, far larger and more ornate than its mundane kin. Increase horn damage by one die type or gain a horn attack at 1d4 damage.
This creature leads a group of similar animals and is always found with 1d6+1 who act as guards and concubines.
Many have tried to slay this beast, all have failed. Embedded in its hide are spears and arrows from ancient battles like a grim mantle. Add 1d4 to armor class
The flesh of this beast has turned toxic from strange sustenance or hate. Save versus poison on each blow or take an extra 1d6 damage.
After being wounded in battle this animal will inexorably follow its attackers. Nothing will sway the creature from its task until it has killed its targets. Whether it acts with restraint in its hunt or cuts a gruesome path depends entirely on the animal in question.
Sprouting from this beast's neck are 1d10 extra heads. Each two heads gives the creature an extra bite attack.
This creature has 1d6 extra pairs of limbs. Each pair adds an extra 5’ to its movement. Each two pairs gives the beast an extra +1 to hit.
When slain there is a 75% chance the creature will rise again immediately at half its original hit points. It also grows new heads and limbs if any were dismembered.
This creature has a strange weakness, a bane that will drive it away or destroy it utterly.

1. The touch of a virgin

2. A willow switch

3. Silver

4. Being bound in red string

5. Fresh cucumber

6. The sound of bells

7. The beast’s heart is hidden in a strange part of its body

8. Flute playing puts the beast to sleep

9. Mesmerized by an object of beauty

10. Burned by smooth river stones

Star Fails III -- Payday in the Frozen City

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Thu, 02 May 2013 18:52:00 +0000

The Crew
Jason Slade, big damn hero
Gold-Gold-Mauve, gun-amoeba
Squishy, nee-"Greenie," eukaryote bullet-sponge
Grug-Ugh-ng, turret puncher
Private Kipley, man of action
Skrillix, squid misanthrope

by Steve Burg

Deep beneath the ice of Iota Cancri VIIIc lies a nameless, dead city. The crew crouched in the dark, a third of them blissed out on alien chemicals. Grug-Ugh-ng took the lead once again, and decided they would wait out the effects on their compatriots. After a few hours nervously watching the dark tunnels Jason and Kipley shook off the effects and the crew set off again. The ancient complex was eerily silent and heavily damaged, collapsed tunnels stymied their progress. The team might have given up were it not for the heroic leadership of the captain ordering Kipley to dig his way through. Progress went much faster from there, and the party was able to ambush a pair of harmless spacecats before being ambushed themselves by rogue defense turrets at the bottom of a stairwell. The automated defenses nearly killed Squishy, but the crew was able to pull him out of range and patch him up with Science! They both exploded a few seconds later under a barrage of bear and laser fire. Those sentries proved to be the last active defenders of the ruins, with only unstable ceilings, ancient diseases, and poison gas standing between the crew and a cache of ancient artifacts. The crew made off with an ancient statuette, a hologram, a mysterious hollow cylinder, some drugs, platinum coins, and a parachute.

Kipley, by the inestimable +Ron Power

Stellar Piracy

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 19:26:00 +0000

The Hulks & Horrors rules mention pirates as a relatively common occurrence while surveying systems, but outside of the "Sentient Crew" encounter at the top of every table leaves the specifics up to the DM to adjudicate. I say why adjudicate when you can roll on a sweet table during system generation! Append this to your system generation process and roll out the six-inch mass drivers. And dice.

Step 3a: Determine Pirates in System
Roll 1d4, on a 1 pirates have a large presence in the system.

Roll 1d6 for each orbit, on a 1 pirates have a base at this location. Terrestrial/Dwarf: 1-2 on surface, 3-4: on moon, 5-6: space station. Gas Giant: 1-2 cloud city, 3-4 on moon, 5-6 space station. Belt: 1-2 hollow asteroid, 3-4 space station, 5-6 repurposed hulk. Deep Space Station: inside station. Artificial World: 1-5 inside construct, 6 space station.

Check for pirate encounters each time a PC vessel moves to a new orbit. Roll 1d6, on a 1 pirates have detected your vessel. If this orbit contains a pirate base an encounters occurs on a 1 to 3. The lead vessel of the crew will hail the PCs, roll on the Pirate Reaction table to determine their attitude.

Pirate Reactions (1d6)
1-2: Attack, the pirates make dire threats and engage.
3-4: Extortion, the pirates demand 1d6x1000 credits to ensure safe passage, parties unable to pay will be attacked.
5: Neutral, the pirates are kind of bored and looking to chat.
6: Friendly, the pirates are willing to impart the PCs with some system data or an item if they have the cash.

Pirate Encounters
Roll 1d3 for the number of vessels in the encounter. Roll 1d5 for the Hull Class of each pirate vessel. The total value of each should be no more than (1d4 + Hull Class) x 100,000 credits. That number is entirely arbitrary and possibly terrible, I ain't got time to stat those ships for you.

Star Fails II

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 19:42:00 +0000

I had two new players for this session of my Hulks & Horrors campaign for a total of three new characters after the rout last time. After getting the new players up to speed (and troubleshooting the mic on our Hangout bro) we picked up where we had left off, in system Iota Cancri mourning the loss of captain Keith Slade.

The Crew
Keith Slade, heroic captain (eaten by spiders)
Grug-Ugh-ng, bearman first mate
Private Kipley, space marine
Skrillix, floating squid reprobate
Newcomers
Jason Slade, acting captain
Gold-Gold-Mauve, gun-amoeba
"Greenie,"

by Axelinde

Unwilling to tarnish their leader's reputation by failing the mission Grug-Ugh-Ng took command, setting a course for the gas giant deeper in-system. Dozens of moons orbited it, but only a few held anything of value. The Daedalus detected up a Galactic Surveyor emergency beacon from a forest moon. Breaking orbit in their shuttle the group came across the wreck of a crashed ship. A trio of occupied emergency cryo-pods were found within the torn fuselage, functioning on a trickle of remaining battery power. Within the pods lay a human and two omega reticulans. After revival they introduced themselves as Jason Slade, time-traveling brother of the ex-captain on a rescue mission to save Keith (arriving too late!) Gold-Gold-Mauve ("GolGol"), and "Greenie." The crew was also able to scavenge survey data from the crashed ship's computer. That left only a two planetoids for study, a stone planet of blood-red rivers (which the group deemed "too metal") or an ice world. They set course for the winter wonderland, and once in orbit discovered that ancient cities covered the small moon, buried beneath almost unbroken glaciers.

Landing their shuttle on a ridge above a large crevasse, the crew clambered into a tunnel leading into the frozen city. The architecture was unfamiliar, reminiscent of ceramic with a tendency toward organic curves and peaked ceilings. The tunnels were full of jellyfish-like creatures, which seemed harmless enough until Jason caught a face-full of soporific powder released from creatures, rendering him helpless but very happy. In retaliation the crew reduced the creatures to bubbling heaps on the floor. The team tied him to the shoulders of Kipley cyberpod heavy armor, where he'd be least likely to harm himself or anyone else. Things went downhill from there. Every room seemed to include more of the floaters, and they soon lost Kipley to the creatures' mind-effecting compound as well.

Will the crew fight something other than pitiful 1HD jellyfish monsters?

Will they find anything worth looting??

Will the time travel thread ever be revisited???

Who is the man in black????

Jacking In

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 17:10:00 +0000

Hulks and Horrors is a scifi retroclone combining the human-scale ruleset of D&D with a stripped down Traveller stellar model. It comes equipped with some amazing tables for generating adventuring locations, from the macro game of sector exploration to the smallest underground bunker or space station. You can be a bearman or a floating squid and pilot a Winnebago bristling with nuclear missiles. It is the best, and I've just started running it! H&H paints its universe with a broad brush, so when I see at the bottom of Complex room table an entry for "VR Access Node" and nothing more it demands I make a table for what terrible misfortune befalls whoever jacks in!

Accessing VR Nodes

The Ancients left behind technological wonders of infinite variety, some of the more common pieces of tech are virtual reality systems. These sophisticated systems were used for education, simulation, entertainment, even basic maintenance of the facilities they were part of.

Node Technology (1d6)

Headset and Gloves
Holographic Interface
Cranial Jacks (1 damage/use)
Psychic Mechanism
Cybernetic Cocoon
Memetics

Figuring out the Ancient technology and successfully accessing a node requires a INT check.

VR Effects (1D12)

All doors on this floor unlock.
All doors on this floor open.
All doors on this floor lock.
Knowledge floods your brain. +2 to all checks to use technology in this complex.
Alarm sounds, attracting nearby monsters. They arrive in 1d3 turns.
Location of the nearest loot.
Psychedelic mimetics fry your psyche for 1d6 damage.
Simulation of infinite space populated by Precursor ghosts.
Defense protocol summons 1d4+1 Servicebots to repel intruders. They arrive in 1d4 turns.
A map of this level is downloaded into your brain.
The defense system activates. Roll a hazard for this room.
The node temporarily overwrites your language centers, you speak only a forgotten Precursor dialect for 1d6 hours.

Tomb of the Rocket Men!

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Tue, 26 Mar 2013 20:21:00 +0000

Gusty over at Dungeon of Signs has been running a contest for a map of the Tomb of the Rocket Men. This is my take on it! If I ever run the thing myself I will absolutely jam pack that pristine rocket with cosmic horrors.

Prismatic Wings

noreply@blogger.com (grinnock) — Wed, 27 Feb 2013 16:00:00 +0000

I desperately want a better word for butterfly than butterfly to use in this post. Butterfly is like the limpest name for a critter that, at least in my campaign, is big and scary and cast spells willy-nilly. Lepidopterans sounds too formal, and using foreign words just seems cheap. However, the Russian babochka is far and away the coolest sounding word for them I could find.

The wizards of Ig don't wear pointy hats. Wizards wear robes and capes and turbans and queer haberdashery of iridescent moth-wing This is because butterflies and moths are natural spell casters not out of any knowledge of their own, but due to the markings on their wings. The pattern of colorful scales on their wings form mandalas, sigils, and the true names of all things. A solitary normal butterfly or moth is harmless, but a sufficiently large swarm (rabble) resonates magically, so many wings brushing together builds up an esoteric charge that can be released at any shock to the group. The spells released scale in proportion to the amount of number of individuals in the rabble. A wizard wearing specially fashioned robes, cloaks, or masks will find his mystical abilities heightened by the wings.

Moth-wing Gear
Any gear crafted from butterflies or moths is lumped together in the catch-all of "moth-wing." This type of clothing can only be crafted by a wizard, and at no small cost. However, a wizard wearing a full suit gains a +3 to resist offensive spells and +3 to all spell checks as well as providing several mystical abilities. Moth-wing provides no bonus to AC.
Moth-wing Hat: Often taking the form of a turban bedecked in scintillating wings or simply the decapitated head of a giant moth hollowed out and made into a cap. A moth-wing hat provides a +1 bonus to all spell checks and saves. The wearer can also be used to cast Speak with Insects 2/day Cost: 400gp and 5 HD in butterflies/moths
Moth-wing Cloak: Usually made from giant wings sewn in a fashionably gaudy cape. A moth-wing hat provides a +1 bonus to all spell checks and saves. The wearer can also cast Color spray 1/day. Cost: 600 gp and 10 HD in butterflies/moths
Moth-wing Robes: A moth-wing hat provides a +1 bonus to all spell checks and saves. The wearer can also cast Featherfall 2/day. Cost: 900 gp and 15 HD in butterflies/moths

Butterfly Rabble: Init +4; Atk none (but see SP); AC 9; HD 1d8+; MV fly 40'; Act special; SP random spells, half damage from non-area attacks; SV Fort +0, Ref +6, Will +0; AL C.

For DCC the rabble can cast a random spell of a level up to the number of HD they have. It casts this spell with a spell check bonus equal to half its current HP. For mores standardized systems, consider it to have spell slots equal to a magic user of equal HD, with the spell taking up as many slots as possible.