The three companions do not dare hesitate, but file silently out of the dim and musty parlour, closing the door softly behind them. They descend the creaking stair to the first landing, and pause, looking at one another in consternation.
"All he wants us to do," begins Isabeau, "is to take this this tack and push it into the wall behind the sales counter of the hattery? Is that truly the task for which we've been summoned?"
"Who are we to question?" says Bassianus. "We are his creatures until our debts are paid."
"His goals are so inscrutable! Do you think the tack is an Arcanum?"
"Possibly. Or he may very well be mad."
"I've heard it said he may not be entirely human. Oh! I didn't mean..."
All eyes look down to Athalie's clawed, chitinous left hand, with its overlong fingers like the segmented legs of a crab.
"I know you didn't, my dear, " says Athalie. "Which of us will take charge of the tack?"
"I will," says Isabeau. "I've an old medicine tin in my purse. So, how are we to get across town?"
Rather than worrying about a plot, I used the d6+d6 mission generator from my other campaign.
Mission: take item X to place Y
Compensation: do it or else
The item was a random picture out of my ItO picture folder. The place was rolled on the Bastion's Greatest Businesses table in the Oddpendium at the back of the rulebook: d%=Hightower Hats & Canes.
The PCs' mysterious patron, to whom they are all in a good deal of debt (I decided arbitrarily), requires this service just to cover the recent interest. This is the same shadowy patron my other two parties serve(d), so there's a chance of crossover depending how the campaign develops.
- Into the Odd 2nd edition
- Mythic with my MCSV & bibliomancy for the Oracle questions*
- the various Random Location Crafting articles in Mythic Magazine
- d30 Sandbox Companion
- UNE
- folders full of pictures for encounters, treasure, etc. -- usually photoshopped
* The first adventure is all dungeon & urban crawls, so there are no Scenes and a static 1d8 Chaos Die. In place of the action/subject meaning tables, I used bibliomancy, plucking a phrase at random from Hervey's Meditations (Rev. James Hervey, 1714–1758. His Meditations were considered the prose analogue to the poetry of the Graveyard School). My copy is in 2 disparate volumes, printed in 1796 (vol II) and 1778 (vol I), which are the oldest books I own, so at some point I switched to an electronic version and copied&pasted from there to give the spines a break.
The PCs were totally random. Athalie's portrait was something I made for my first ItO campaign when I was messing about with pictures to be used as random encounters/NPCs. When she got 'Ugly Mutation' as part of her starting package, I knew it had to be her. I gave the claw game stats as it seemed like it should do decent damage, but also get in the way.]
STR 12, DEX 13, WIL 17, 5hp
sword (d6), steel wire
Ugly Mutation (crableg-claw (d6), no fine manipulation, 2-h mêlée weapons Impaired)
STR 5, DEX 10, WIL 6, 1hp
musket (d8), hatchet (d6)
Hawk ("Geta", STR 5, d6 claws)
Pain Idol
STR 16, DEX 9, WIL 9, 5hp
pistol (d6), acid, animal repellant
Prosthetic Hand (fully-functional, clockwork mechanism, requires constant winding)
There is a taxi stand at the end of their Patron's street, but our intrepid heroes pretend not to see it, heads hanging low in shame, refusing to look one another in the eye, as all are empty of purse. [Oddpendium: The Quickest Route Across Town d%= horse carriage]
"It looks like we're walking," sighs Bassianus. He whistles sharply, summoning his pet hawk, Geta, down from his roof-top perch, and they set off on their way.
[What's this street like? d%= shopping arcade, dangerous]
To-day the omnipresent gloom comes with a mildly stinging drizzle. The companions decide to cut through an indoor shopping arcade, a dim and smoky maze of passages crowded with the shuffling masses, and lined with stalls where merchants of evil countenance sell frightening and exotic wares. Perhaps the out-of-doors were not so unpleasant after all! They spot an exit, and make for it in all haste, though the streets of the market outside are no less teeming. It is a struggle to make one's way through without being swept along by the unwashed tide.
[Each PC needs a Willpower save to get through unmolested--
Athalie (WIL 17), d20=8 success
Bassianus (WIL 6), d20=15 fail
Isabeau (WIL 9), d20=3, success
Q: What happens to Bassianus? (random pic from my Urban Encounter folder)]
Athalie and Isabeau wind their way carefully through the masses, timing their movements just so, and before long they've crossed the street. Isabeau stands on the end of a broken bench to scan the crown for Bassianus.
[I'd given him a DEX save (DEX 10) to avoid a mishap: d20=16, fail
Q: What happens? bodily Vigour
The peevish soldiers give Bassianus a good thrashing for d10=2 damage; this reduces him to 0hp, STR 4. He needs a STR save to avoid Critical Damage: d20=3, he remains conscious.]
"This is truly nonsensical," says Bassianus after having rejoined his companions, "We'd ought to find a way out of the crowds."
"Agreed," says Isabeau.
"Perhaps you'd ought to stanch the blood dripping from your nose first," observes Athalie.
[This was to be a dungeon crawl, but since I was enjoying the streets of Bastion, I decided to have a little urban crawl to get to the dungeon entrance (being the sewers they will use to cut across town). I used the Location Crafting Random Cities from Mythic Magazine #16 / Compilation 3, with the neighbourhood counting as a Small Location since they essentially know where they're going.]
T0 : expected - random (pic) - expected
The market stalls spill out into another street, and fill the next little square beyond as well. Isabeau leads the way through, manoevring round coagulations of the heaving populace, or using her surprising and superior brawn [STR 16] to shoulder her way through. Athalie follows close behind, and Bassianus does his best to keep up. He's released Geta to fly overhead, but the imbecile bird just turns lazy circles instead of finding them a path. Perhaps he'd out to invest in a good trainer for him -- should he ever possess sufficient finds. «Sigh»
As they advance, [d3=] Bassianus feels a tug at his sleeve. He looks down to find that he's been accosted by a petulant little waif. "Sweeties, sweeties," she whines.
[Q: What's she want? the Lustre of innumerable Stars]
STR 9 DEX 13 WPR 17, 6hp
Driven to spread the influence of the star gods, but will go away if given sweeties
Infinite Glance: 1 damage to all attributes per round; WIL save or under control of the child
She tugs ever more insistently at his sleeve. "Sweeties, sweeties," she whimpers, as she stares into his eyes with her Infinite Glance. He cannot avert his gaze; he sees beyond and is consumed. [Wil save d20=12, fail... & all stats reduced by 1]
"Bloody hell," mutters Isabeau, and drags the half-paralytic Bassianus bodily away. [STR save d20=2, success]. The child does not give up her quarry easily. She runs in pursuit, grasping hands outstretched, ever whining her hideous refrain. "Sweeties, sweeties!"
Athalie stands aside, and slyly puts a foot out in the child's path [the child's DEX save d20=20, fail]. The whelp sprawls onto the dirty cobbles and begins to wail. Athalie melts back into the crowd.[DEX save succeeds]
Bastion's entire profanum vulgus seem to be doing their shopping this miserable afternoon, so the press of reeking bodies is too dense for our heroes to cross the rest of the square. But a side street beckons [connector: Same, with a side Area]; they head down it in hopes of getting out of the chaos.
object: ornamental fountain
There are more stalls in the side street, and punters besides, but where the crowd thins out, an ornamental fountain bubbles away. There is a suspiciously small number of people willing to get close to it, but Bassianus wants to get a drink from the waters. At first it tastes of lime scale and sulphur, but as it goes down there's an aftertaste of the purest ambrosia, and restores no small amount of clarity to Bassianus' punch-drunk brain.
[I eat the Stuff: d%=first taste is gross, the second delicious. I let it restore 1 random attribute point: d3=WIL; this also counts as a Short Rest, so he's back to full HP.]
Meanwhile, Isabeau has removed her right glove, revealing her clockwork artificial hand. "Damn thing's run down again. Be a dear, won't you...?"
"Of course, my treasure," says Athalie, winding the mechanism.
More shops are beginning to open, so Isabeau is still pulling on her glove as she and her companions begin hurrying down the street.
T2 : random - random - none
location: random picture
encounter: ibid.
 |
| (sometimes I don't have to edit the pictures at all) |
[Oddpendium cult generator: Family of the Glorious Skull (outlawed cult)]
The street narrows. They pass a low wooden door with black iron fittings, above which hangs a weathered deer skull with silvered antlers. An old man of strange aspect stands before it, reading from a tattered old book. He grabs [d3=] Isabeau as they try to file past.
"Armed for war, are we?" [prejudiced - view - weapons]
"These streets aren't safe nowadays. I'd not leave my garret with fewer weapons."
"There is a better way, you know."
"The only better way I'm interested in is the one that leads out of this borough."
"If you'll but hear me out, there is a shortcut through my temple." [insane - façade - current scene]
[WIL saves: all succeed, not buying it]
"There's a taxi stand just two streets over," interjects Bassianus.
"We simply couldn't impose," says Isabeau.
"We're late for brunch with the Rabbi as it is," lies Athalie.
[Q: What does the old man do? Transporting Reflection]
The old man mutters something indistinct, calling on the Skull's powers of illusion. Suddenly the crowd in the street seemingly begins to surge, threatening to overwhelm the explorers and trample them underfoot. The old man opens the door and steps into the temple. The explorers dash in behind him.
Once inside...
[Q: Now what's his game? a commanding Call, to spurn the abject Earth, and pant after unseen Delights]
...the old man starts talking about the aims of his astral cult, the Family of the Glorious Skull. His promises of salvation, glory, monthly entertainment vouchers, and spiritual perfection ring ever more hollow as he drones on. Tedium gives way to nervousness as he leads them through a maze of cramped and twisting passageways. Mildew creeps up the badly-plastered walls, affronting eye and nose alike. The corroded pipes overhead leak brown droplets onto the damp, uneven floor. Unevenly spaced gaslights leave pools of darkness between.
At length the old man begins to cantillate from his psalter, and astral visions swim before the eyes of the listeners.
[WIL saves: A d20=9, ok; B 18, fail; I 2, ok]
Bassianus swoons, enraptured by vistas of swirling stars and billowing nebulae that fill his awareness. Athalie and Isabeau shake off the heady phantasy and fall on the man with their fists.
[Stats are 3d6 for all attributes, 2d6 HP, powers made up on the spot]
The Old Man of Strange Aspect
STR 13, DEX 13, WIL 13, 3hp
Driven to swell the ranks of his nefarious order
Shining Touch (d6), damage in excess of HP comes off target's WIL and may cause Critcal damage.
Rapturous Cantillation, WIL save to avoid catatonia filled with euphoric visions. 1 WIL damage per round, effect ends when a save succeeds or chanting ceases. At WIL 0, all free will dissipates and the character becomes a thrall of the astral cult
[Round 1]
Athalie hates using her hideous claw hand as a weapon, but as there's not enough room to swing a sword in this corridor, needs must. Isabeau squeezes in beside her to pummel the old cultist with her bare knuckles. [their attacks are Impaired (1d4). 1+3=4 damage total, reducing the old man to 0hp, STR 12. STR save to avoid Critical damage: d20=8, success]
The old man's fingertips begin to glow with a silver light. He reaches out to touch [d2=] Athalie's face. She backpedals, and his fingers fall short, though her skin is all pins and needles where the light fell upon it [d6=3 damage, reducing her 2 HP].
Despite being punched thrice in the face, his droning psalmody continues unabated.
[Round 2]
Athalie's awful claw rakes down the man's face and comes away spattered with blood and bits of skin, which will be revolting to have to pick off later [4 damage]. Isabeau delivers a solid hit to the sternum [2 damage]. The old man is staggered a moment, but undaunted. [6 total damage reduces his STR to 6. d20=4, avoids critical damage].
He reaches out for Athalie again, and this time his shining fingertips brush her cheek. She loses all sensation in her face, and feels a fire in her brain, but does not succumb. [3 damage, eliminates her 2hp, and the extra point comes off her Willpower, dropping it to 16. d20=9, no crit]
[Round 3]
'Why won't the fiend stop chanting? Perhaps he just hasn't been beaten enough,' thinks Isabeau. Then Athalie steps back away from the clutching silver fingers, and she finally has the space to deliver a punishing roundhouse. The old man is spun round by the force of the blow and flat up against the wall, dislodging some of the decaying plasterwork. He slides to the floor, defeated. [2+4=6 damage, leaving him with 2 STR; d20=10, crit.]
[Q: Does Bassianus snap out of it when he falls? unlikely (5+): O6 C8 - yes (noted in stat block above)
Q: Is he any worse for wear? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and... (also noted above)
He's down to 3 Willpower]
With the cantillation finally put to an end, Bassianus' visions fade. He steadies himself against the wall and takes a swig of cheap gin from his hip flask to steady his nerves. He offers some to Athalie, who's looking a bit peaked, but she declines, saying she's more of a whisky kind of girl. Fortunately she's brough a flask of her own. Isabeau is unharmed, so is forced to clear her throat pointedly until they both offer her a sip as well.
Athalie stabs the motionless cultist through the chest with her sword to make sure he is no longer a threat. She then pockets his psalter in case it's an Arcanum (doubtful), or worth something (doubtful), and hopes it's not dangerous to read (unlikely)
[short rest (1-in-6 random encounter check): d6=6, nothing; everyone recovers their lost HP
The parenthetical notes about the psalter are, of course, the likeliehood I will use for the associated Oracle questions when she has time to peruse her dubious treasure.]
"Do you suppose there's really a shortcut through here?" asks Isabeau.
next post: in the dungeons of the skull cult
The street narrows. They pass a low wooden door with black iron fittings, above which hangs a weathered deer skull with silvered antlers. An old man of strange aspect stands before it, reading from a tattered old book. He grabs [d3=] Isabeau as they try to file past.
"Armed for war, are we?" [prejudiced - view - weapons]
"These streets aren't safe nowadays. I'd not leave my garret with fewer weapons."
"There is a better way, you know."
"The only better way I'm interested in is the one that leads out of this borough."
"If you'll but hear me out, there is a shortcut through my temple." [insane - façade - current scene]
[WIL saves: all succeed, not buying it]
"There's a taxi stand just two streets over," interjects Bassianus.
"We simply couldn't impose," says Isabeau.
"We're late for brunch with the Rabbi as it is," lies Athalie.
[Q: What does the old man do? Transporting Reflection]
The old man mutters something indistinct, calling on the Skull's powers of illusion. Suddenly the crowd in the street seemingly begins to surge, threatening to overwhelm the explorers and trample them underfoot. The old man opens the door and steps into the temple. The explorers dash in behind him.
Once inside...
[Q: Now what's his game? a commanding Call, to spurn the abject Earth, and pant after unseen Delights]
...the old man starts talking about the aims of his astral cult, the Family of the Glorious Skull. His promises of salvation, glory, monthly entertainment vouchers, and spiritual perfection ring ever more hollow as he drones on. Tedium gives way to nervousness as he leads them through a maze of cramped and twisting passageways. Mildew creeps up the badly-plastered walls, affronting eye and nose alike. The corroded pipes overhead leak brown droplets onto the damp, uneven floor. Unevenly spaced gaslights leave pools of darkness between.
At length the old man begins to cantillate from his psalter, and astral visions swim before the eyes of the listeners.
[WIL saves: A d20=9, ok; B 18, fail; I 2, ok]
Bassianus swoons, enraptured by vistas of swirling stars and billowing nebulae that fill his awareness. Athalie and Isabeau shake off the heady phantasy and fall on the man with their fists.
[Stats are 3d6 for all attributes, 2d6 HP, powers made up on the spot]
The Old Man of Strange Aspect
STR 13, DEX 13, WIL 13, 3hp
Driven to swell the ranks of his nefarious order
Shining Touch (d6), damage in excess of HP comes off target's WIL and may cause Critcal damage.
Rapturous Cantillation, WIL save to avoid catatonia filled with euphoric visions. 1 WIL damage per round, effect ends when a save succeeds or chanting ceases. At WIL 0, all free will dissipates and the character becomes a thrall of the astral cult
[Round 1]
Athalie hates using her hideous claw hand as a weapon, but as there's not enough room to swing a sword in this corridor, needs must. Isabeau squeezes in beside her to pummel the old cultist with her bare knuckles. [their attacks are Impaired (1d4). 1+3=4 damage total, reducing the old man to 0hp, STR 12. STR save to avoid Critical damage: d20=8, success]
The old man's fingertips begin to glow with a silver light. He reaches out to touch [d2=] Athalie's face. She backpedals, and his fingers fall short, though her skin is all pins and needles where the light fell upon it [d6=3 damage, reducing her 2 HP].
Despite being punched thrice in the face, his droning psalmody continues unabated.
[Round 2]
Athalie's awful claw rakes down the man's face and comes away spattered with blood and bits of skin, which will be revolting to have to pick off later [4 damage]. Isabeau delivers a solid hit to the sternum [2 damage]. The old man is staggered a moment, but undaunted. [6 total damage reduces his STR to 6. d20=4, avoids critical damage].
He reaches out for Athalie again, and this time his shining fingertips brush her cheek. She loses all sensation in her face, and feels a fire in her brain, but does not succumb. [3 damage, eliminates her 2hp, and the extra point comes off her Willpower, dropping it to 16. d20=9, no crit]
[Round 3]
'Why won't the fiend stop chanting? Perhaps he just hasn't been beaten enough,' thinks Isabeau. Then Athalie steps back away from the clutching silver fingers, and she finally has the space to deliver a punishing roundhouse. The old man is spun round by the force of the blow and flat up against the wall, dislodging some of the decaying plasterwork. He slides to the floor, defeated. [2+4=6 damage, leaving him with 2 STR; d20=10, crit.]
[Q: Does Bassianus snap out of it when he falls? unlikely (5+): O6 C8 - yes (noted in stat block above)
Q: Is he any worse for wear? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and... (also noted above)
He's down to 3 Willpower]
With the cantillation finally put to an end, Bassianus' visions fade. He steadies himself against the wall and takes a swig of cheap gin from his hip flask to steady his nerves. He offers some to Athalie, who's looking a bit peaked, but she declines, saying she's more of a whisky kind of girl. Fortunately she's brough a flask of her own. Isabeau is unharmed, so is forced to clear her throat pointedly until they both offer her a sip as well.
Athalie stabs the motionless cultist through the chest with her sword to make sure he is no longer a threat. She then pockets his psalter in case it's an Arcanum (doubtful), or worth something (doubtful), and hopes it's not dangerous to read (unlikely)
[short rest (1-in-6 random encounter check): d6=6, nothing; everyone recovers their lost HP
The parenthetical notes about the psalter are, of course, the likeliehood I will use for the associated Oracle questions when she has time to peruse her dubious treasure.]
"Do you suppose there's really a shortcut through here?" asks Isabeau.
I'm always ready for more Into the Odd. Love the quirky adventures you roll up with it.
ReplyDeleteAlso, do I see a d30 in that top photo? I finally bought one myself after using a d3+d10 to emulate one for a while. I like it!
Also, seems like this city may be rough on hands. The poorer element spending too much time reaching into machines on factory floors as children?
DeleteI bought the d30 to replace my old one, which I've had since the mid 80s. It was cheap plastic and with all the use over the years was wearing down and starting to roll funny.
DeleteBastion's a rough place. If you don't lose your hand in a machine shop incident, there's always your creditors wanting to make a point...