[Q: Is it open? 50/50 (4+): O6 C4 - yes, but...
The last post ended with the final room in the entrance 'dungeon'. For exploring the city ruins, I switched to the Randomized Location Crafting tables in Mythic Magazine #2.
I'm using the Small Locations column, but Completed results need a roll to track/notice/etc. or will be treated simply as Expected. Also, this is a vast, dead, ruined city, so it isn't swarming with monsters. An Expected result for encounters = none.]
T0 : expected - none - none
When they are at last able to ascend, they emerge into what must have been the triclinium of a fine townhouse. The wooden furniture has since collapsed to nothing and the colourful wall frescoes have faded and flaked past the point of recognition. Only the wrought iron skeletons of the dining couches remain, rusted but intact.
"Nice digs," observes Grebdal Themp.
"I suppose Death cultists have more refined tastes than worshippers of Decay," adds Ksandajja.
"All that black dye for the robes doesn't come cheap," says Ilog.
The adjoining room is choked with rubble and impassible, but a gap in the wall affords access to the next room or house.
T1 : expected - expected - none
They pick their way through to the front room, which lacks its roof entirely. The walls on one side are scarcely waist-high. From there it's an easy clamber out to the street.
T2 : random - none - expected
location: important & unusual
They traverse a ruined portico leading to long narrow area with stone tables and benches arranged in cramped rows.
"What do you suppose this place was?" asks Grebdal Themp.
"A scriptorium," says Ksandajja, "just like where I used to work in Ângu of the Interminable bloody Contracts."
T3 : expected - none - expected
There's open street on the other side, strewn with wood, clay, and stone debris, but passable. Ksandajja hears a skittering of stones, and wheels about to face an unseen assailant. Then she hears another grating sound, and watches as a fragment of plaster, having lost its struggle against the inexorable advance of time, slides down the façade of a crumbling shop front. Her relief at the sight is but of a moment; for there was no assassin, and not even a rat or other vermin. And she'd not seen so much as a single spider or beetle in the dark, cool cellar. Truly nothing can live in this Dead City.
Location: calm, lavish
Encounter: weak, anxious
A still-standing gate at end leads to public gardens -- now a grid path with empty pools, dead palm trees, and broken statues of nameless gods being choked dessicated, thorny vines.
But as our heroes pick their way through the remnants of a forgotten satrap's largesse, a pair of tiny yellow eyes observe their every movement. Only once they have left the garden does the WINGED GREMLIN emerge from beneath a cracked marble bench and flit off to make report to its master. [They all got Awareness rolls at -4 to notice (-2 size, -2 concealed) to notice the gremlin; unsurprisingly no one succeeded.]
T5: random - expected - expected
Location: dark, confusing
The street on the other side of the garden is blocked on both ends. The only way forward is through a block of large, mostly intact insulae [tenements]. After a few paces inwards, the darkness becomes complete, and they must illumine a lantern to proceed.
"I grew up in a tip like this," says Grebdal Themp. "we'd best mind our step; these places were deathtraps at the best of times."
T6 : known - none - special
Object: This is bad - threatening, mundane
Even with the lamp, wading through the dust, debris, and ancient rubbish in the blackness of the insula is a chore. Several paths turn out to be dead ends, and they must climb rickety steps to the first and then second floor to find way through. Ksandajja, having taken the lead, treads on a rotten timber, and feels it give way beneath her feet. [Testing her LUCK : 2d6=4, success; current Luck drops to 7] She springs back just in time as a whole room's worth of floor collapses.
Grebdal Themp offers to take lead; he's more used to creeping around in dark houses, anyway.
T7 : complete - expected - expected
They spot a dim light ahead. Moving toward it, they round the corner to find a room lit by a window, or perhaps simply a fortuitous hole in the exterior wall. They look down over the city ruins form the height, and espy a plume of thin grey smoke coming from the top of one of the more-intact buildings.
[For the Complete result, the party needed to roll against the best Awareness (9) at -2 to see a clue: 2d6=7, success.]
"Think we can find a way there from here?" asks Fhenteskeer.
"I'm trying to plot a course from up here," says Ksandajja, "but it's hard to say what it will actually be like on the ground."
"As log as we find some sort of landmarks," says Ilog, "it shouldn't be too hard to URKKK---!!!"
T8 : expected PP-6 - random - expected
Encounter: creepy, trap
Ilog's companions wheel round to see a pair of bony hands clasping round the warriors throat. Behind his bulk they can just make out the grinning skull in a shabby cloak beaming with diabolic glee: a SKELETAL STRANGLER, doubtlessly sent by the necromancer to destroy any interlopers who would threaten his wicked designs.
SKELETAL STRANGLER SKILL 9 STAMINA 9
Fighting in the cramped quarters of the closet sized bedroom is a challenge, but at least Ilog is able to twist round so that his companions can reach the vile undead thing. Even so, they are hampered by the space. Fhenteskeer calls down the power of Filash to aid him [Smite Undead]. But though the sacred flames play over the blade of his sharp axe, he never finds an opening through which to strike. Fortunately for poor, straining Ilog, Ksandajja and Grebdal Themp make short work of the grasping fiend with their swords.
Ilog slumps to the floor, still straining to breathe. He manages to choke down a few gulps from his waterskin, and follows it up with a bit of hard tack besides to restore a bit of his lost vigour.
[Despite some rubbish die rolls, the fight only took 2 rounds. Ilog was down to 10 Stamina. First Aid won't help, so he ate a PROVISION to regain 2 Stamina.]
T9 : random - random - special
Location: dirty, reassuring
Encounter: crazy, defeated
Object: barely there - expected
Having found their way down to ground level, they emerge into long dusty street, surprisingly clear of detritus. It bisects a larger thoroughfare, and in the middle of the intersection there is a [d6=] man, stripped almost bare and staked out on the ground. The sun blazes down unimpeded on his angry red skin, and he does not seem to notice the group of strangers standing over him, trying to get his attention.
[Q: Is he too far gone? 50/50 (4+): O5 C3 - yes, but...]
"He's got heatstroke, and severe dehydration," says Ksandajja. "I'm surprised he's still alive." [Desert Lore, auto- success.]
Ilog manages to get some water down the man's throat [Healing roll 2d6=3, succeeds] enough for him to be able to speak a few words.
"Please... give me a coin to pay the ferryman..." [inquisitive - request - wealth]
Soft-hearted Ilog gives the man a gold coin as his companions loosen his bonds, and then drag him into some shade to live out his last minutes in relative comfort.
T10 : expected - expected - none
T11 : expected - expected, PP-6 - special
Object: Multi-element - expected x2
T12 : expected, PP-6 - expected - expected
They proceed through a labyrinth of winding streets and broken buildings, with ever increasing mounds of rubble to climb over or find detours round...
T13 : random - expected - expected
Location: empty, dangerous
...until they find they can proceed in the streets no further, and must instead forge a path through a collapsing, bone-strewn workshop, whose hard wooden floor -- or the part of it still extant -- creaks ominously with every tentative step.
They've nearly reached a hole into the next street when Fhenteskeer crashes through a brittle plank, falling up to his waist and tearing up his leg on the jagged edges of the hole [1d6=4 damage]. Ilog helps him out, and binds his bloodied leg once they're all clear [Healing roll succeeds, Fhenteskeer gets 2 back; he's now at 6 Stamina].
T14 : expected - expected - none
T15 : random - expected - none
Location: harsh, lonely
T16 : known - none - expected, PP-6
The narrow, winding street leads into a sizeable open square. A single stone platform -- for orators or executions -- stands in the centre. Nothing else remains but shredded canvas tents and bits of wooden structure from the ancient market stalls. Ilog climbs atop the platform, but it proves empty.
T17 : known - expected, PP-6 - random
Object: enormous & ornate
T18 : expected - expected - expected
They leave the square by one of the broader streets. The stone buildings to either side still stand tall, their stout construction more than adequate proof against the press of weighty centuries. The companions are glad of the shade they afford, though doubly aware that an enemy could be hiding in the darkness behind any of the yawning doorways they must pass.
One street is partly blocked by a broken chariot. Bronze fittings, green with verdigris, still cling to the splintered wooden frame. A nearby human skull in a dented casque may once have belonged to the driver, and the skeleton of one horse lies in the dust beneath the broken yoke.
Encounter: calm & military
Object: new & weapon
[For the Complete result, I needed to roll Awareness: 9-2=7; 2d6=7, success]
At last they can smell smoke, and there seems a darker cast to the day; their goal is the low domed edifice at the end of the street. But as they advance, a figure steps forth from a shadowy doorway to block their path.
next post: fighting and death
No comments:
Post a Comment