tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87143279045807988432024-03-16T20:19:36.199+00:00alea iactanda estAlea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.comBlogger400125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-20279547307383489722024-03-16T20:12:00.005+00:002024-03-16T20:16:51.198+00:00AFF solo - Part XV: Secrets and confessions<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHTuXJVjJg5fZbbA2RClcP65padtNe_pmRHkXIX8q-6i2OpxVAER2yE-dBo9g_rg77pTfF6zeEOqc85eBbTfD9vGjRnbyRXkMehvvlwJ7ifdSoAQb3KMBT8rfVlZi3KqC7svG8terQc7Gvm-QDMP9s8FyIDE9L9zaeQ46UADZu8_YG8jGrOT3y1hdhDA/s1046/part%2015%20start.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="757" data-original-width="1046" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiHTuXJVjJg5fZbbA2RClcP65padtNe_pmRHkXIX8q-6i2OpxVAER2yE-dBo9g_rg77pTfF6zeEOqc85eBbTfD9vGjRnbyRXkMehvvlwJ7ifdSoAQb3KMBT8rfVlZi3KqC7svG8terQc7Gvm-QDMP9s8FyIDE9L9zaeQ46UADZu8_YG8jGrOT3y1hdhDA/s600/part%2015%20start.jpg" width="600" /></a></div><br /><b>Day 3</b><br /><br />Another day on the march under the relentless sun. Ksandajja resorts to her weather charm to keep her skin from turning bright red.<br /><br />It seems that nothing lives along this stretch of the route, for they encounter not a single creature as they plod on. They pass another rocky cliff pierced by a multitude of caves; perhaps the dwellers within have frightened off all other life. <br /><br />That evening they walk on until the sun has almost vanished, for Novoldgan does not wish to camp too close to the black caverns.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAXd7hP3pod-66ndLJdLNw5O8N3WIr-0jTJR3NUPOABGAYgj_KuJgEzLh4ajKaHtsW7lTfU6Wc5YFz_sDxNWQaW7Wjfg-C-lrEtT-Y-86ZcB-cxPvnryAlquz5AqV7hhlcwxyj7oZCnBdK5RFyl8P7sgX1122OhJbsEC-UgYVzNCMbe2TPrEWRIFx00I/s816/camp.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="816" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiAXd7hP3pod-66ndLJdLNw5O8N3WIr-0jTJR3NUPOABGAYgj_KuJgEzLh4ajKaHtsW7lTfU6Wc5YFz_sDxNWQaW7Wjfg-C-lrEtT-Y-86ZcB-cxPvnryAlquz5AqV7hhlcwxyj7oZCnBdK5RFyl8P7sgX1122OhJbsEC-UgYVzNCMbe2TPrEWRIFx00I/s600/camp.jpg" width="600" /></a></div><br /><i>That evening round the campfires...</i><br /><br />Fhenteskeer has noted the contempt in which the caravaneers hold his friend, Grebdal Themp, and has taken it upon himself to do something about it. He sits before the crackling fire, regaling a group of road-weary traders with the tale of his little band's exploits at the frozen temple in the heart of the sweltering jungle. As he nears the climax, he invites Grebdal Themp over to tell of slaying the many-limbed mutant reptile, pretending not to notice the sudden ill humour of the others. Grebdal Themp's narrative is a first halting, but as he remembers the battle his excitement grows, and soon the traders are hanging on his every word, so much so they they assail him with questions at the tales end, and plead for him to share his side of the story of the evil cult that menaced coffer-filling Ângu.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Etiquette at -2: 6 MAG +1 spec. skill +3 Silver Tongue -2 = 8- to succeed<br />2d6=2, critical success = 'we were so wrong about him. he's ace'.<br /><br />Q: What does the duenna do after keeping an eye on Ilog since they left? make / letter<br />Q: How well has she been keeping watch? d6=6, extremely closely<br /><br />I gave the other PCs Awareness at -2 to have suspicions, but atrocious rolls confirm their obliviousness...]</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi3P09D1vZ8KHpzbD48g-N6w4iO5kmKGG3qMQgdVNghO5qwVh6M8bdZQkMlVd00DtoUcpJfOt5QUQDE1cX6-ltMaMQG_cIrIb-qMOvMu2vSJxh6HZgKIJ9Y-uR2c_crIi1X6CMvw4K354tWI6-pDs3AR4dPwKYgWhLTj1VgMyII8j9IscDTHQkXqpMm0/s354/duenna%20spies%20on%20ilog.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="353" data-original-width="354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCi3P09D1vZ8KHpzbD48g-N6w4iO5kmKGG3qMQgdVNghO5qwVh6M8bdZQkMlVd00DtoUcpJfOt5QUQDE1cX6-ltMaMQG_cIrIb-qMOvMu2vSJxh6HZgKIJ9Y-uR2c_crIi1X6CMvw4K354tWI6-pDs3AR4dPwKYgWhLTj1VgMyII8j9IscDTHQkXqpMm0/s400/duenna%20spies%20on%20ilog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><i>Elsewhere in the camp...</i><br /><br />"You! Sellsword! How would you like to earn a bit of gold?"<br /><br />Ilog wheels round to find the steely-eyed duenna looking at him with only half her usual scowl.<br /><br />"That is highly dependent on what you propose that I do."<br /><br />"It is a simple task, really, but worth <span style="color: #800180;">[2d6x5=]</span> twenty golden coins if it be carried out. When we reach Drammub, I will give you a letter to take to a certain <span style="color: #800180;">[Majestically / Cold]</span> noble personage residing there. I must stay with my charge and so shan't have the time to attend to this matter myself. But this personage -- that is, their servant -- will pay you the gold for this trifling errand."<br /><br />"And why me? For I am warrior -- not a messenger."<br /><br />"I've watched you, and several others hired for protection along this route; you seem the most trustworthy of the lot."<br /><br />"Very well, I accept."<br /><br />"Good. I shall provide you with the letter and the details of where to take it once we have arrived in Drammub."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Onto Ksandajja's jealousy complication...<br />Q: What is the jealous party like? Innocently / Horrible; d6=m<br />Q: What is the substance of the problem? Enormously / Simple]</span><br /><br /><i>Still elsewhere...</i><br /><br />Ksandajja is feeding the camels when the padding of velvet slippers on the hard-packed sand alerts her to company. She looks up to see Balsugan, the caravan master's only son, glaring at her with what he must take for a fearsome expression.<br /><br />"You -- strumpet! When I tell my father about this, he'll abandon you to the trackless wastes to be murdered by bandits, or devoured by XLAIA, or -- or worse! -- unless you stop this instant! This instant, do you hear?"<br /><br />"Stop what? What is it I'm supposed to have done?"<br /><br />"You're trying to steal my girl!"<br /><br />"I assure you, I'm not."<br /><br />"Oh, sure! And the last few pretty mercenaries through here weren't after her either!" <span style="color: #800180;">[knowing - history - knowledge]</span><br /><br />"I'm just learning to fight without falling out of the saddle -- nothing more."<br /><br />"Your lessons are over! Stay away from her or I'll give you a fight!" <span style="color: #800180;">[hostile - combat - future action]</span><br /><br />"Don't be ridiculous. I could reduce you to cinders with a word and a gesture."<br /><br />"You wouldn't dare!"<br /><br />"I wouldn't want it to be necessary. How can I prove to you that I'm no threat? To your relationship, I mean."<br /><br />"Stay well away! None of the others did..." <span style="color: #800180;">[knowing - telling - last scene]</span><br /><br />"Oh, by Asrel's blessèd knickers, this is too much! Come with me now and let's we three settle this once and for all."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does he resist? Unlikely (5+): O1 C8 - no]</span><br /><br />Ksandajja leads Balsugan by the hand like a wayward child over to where Telnah is repairing a broken saddle.<br /><br />"Your little paramour thinks we've been having it off," says the sorceress. "Tell him."<br /><br />"My little KRELL, there's nothing going on between us!"<br /><br />"And he thinks I'm not the first."<br /><br />"You wound me! I'd never be so faithless."<br /><br />"So you've not had affairs with any of the pretty mercenaries who pass through the caravan?"<br /><br />"No."<br /><br />"No you have, or no you haven't?"<br /><br />"No. I have not."<br /><br />"I want to believe you..."<br /><br />"Then why don't you?"<br /><br />"You swear you haven't?"<br /><br />"Not a one."<br /><br />Ksandajja decides a little bit of magic is the only way to keep this exchange from lasting until dawn. She mumbles the words of a subtle charm.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQCa0s54VfpvfDIek4H7vvnTiyVJFLBGVfIIFnv9AQy7aU2Js0U5COgJ-WDA1unfuNnQQXGJPd4WuPth13Sv3ZtzveNxWtaMGOZ0hOVu8iwOzNZlQhydFwVbSefhic5Ue9j75Huorab2N-U7_zjfP06VknKrZx9CEA7ixBcXRF7x-X-uhG9H8qoZx6bM/s416/cast_cantrip.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="163" data-original-width="416" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKQCa0s54VfpvfDIek4H7vvnTiyVJFLBGVfIIFnv9AQy7aU2Js0U5COgJ-WDA1unfuNnQQXGJPd4WuPth13Sv3ZtzveNxWtaMGOZ0hOVu8iwOzNZlQhydFwVbSefhic5Ue9j75Huorab2N-U7_zjfP06VknKrZx9CEA7ixBcXRF7x-X-uhG9H8qoZx6bM/s16000/cast_cantrip.jpg" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[She casts Honesty cantrip: 2d6=7, success (only fails on a fumble) : Telnah must Test her LUCK/SKILL or reveal a recent lie: SKILL 8 (as mercenary cavalry: 2d6=9, failure.<br /><br />Q: Was she lying? unknown 1d6=4: O4 C4 - no, but...]</span><br /><br />"Really and truly?" says Balsugan as the charm takes hold of unsuspecting Telnah.<br /><br />"Alright, just the once: with that MAN-ORC from Khul. Sometimes a girl likes a bit of rough.... why did I just say that?"<br /><br />"Truth magic," says Ksandajja.<br /><br />"Well, what about him then?"<br /><br />"Sure. Tell us, have you ever had an illicit liaison?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[His reply (1d6): 1-2 yes, 3-4 no, 5-6 equivocation: 1<br />casting roll succeeds; B's SKILL 5: 2d6=6, fail<br />Q: Truth? certain (2+): O3 C8 - yes]</span><br /><br />"Ummmmm.... also just the once?"<br /><br />"Oh," says Ksandajja, "is that my friend, Fhenteskeer? It must be time for our prayers. Sorry, must dash!"<br /><br /><br /><b>Day 4 </b><br /><br />Ksandajja meekly asks Telnah if they can continue her lessons. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Bargain (SKILL 6 +2 for Learned), 2d6=8, just<br />Q: How did she and Balsugan leave things? Enormously / Lonely - broke up]</span><br /><br />Telnah says that she has plenty of spare time, now that she's single again. And it just might help take her mind off things.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[travel rolls: no encounter or event.<br />feature = cottage<br /><br />Q: Who lives there? Nicely / Horrible - a hag<br />Q: Does the caravan leader have any knowledge of her? 50/50 (4+): O4 C2 - yes, and...<br />Q: What's she like? Nicely / Mighty]</span><br /><br />Not long after midday, Novoldgan calls the caravan to a halt for a rest in the narrow strip of shade along a stony escarpment. Halfway up the cliff face Ksandajja can make out a rude structure of mud-brick clinging precipitously to the rock.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhucw0rx9tydXy4GkOms8ip1CN5S_F29rIJ_Nf_x-dkGcNfGqaqRlMMXk-01BH9WvD-FgSYLPRbQTAcqNzD6wc9Vi5nL85GPcRSpt9khpERnaJigouovNv9BW8KF8mBZueiQyvOVcyFp3Tud3gdRm1VngChmVgoQIGtOplRujfvBXrmzvf4VBYENlus6_A/s964/hag%20lair.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="964" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhucw0rx9tydXy4GkOms8ip1CN5S_F29rIJ_Nf_x-dkGcNfGqaqRlMMXk-01BH9WvD-FgSYLPRbQTAcqNzD6wc9Vi5nL85GPcRSpt9khpERnaJigouovNv9BW8KF8mBZueiQyvOVcyFp3Tud3gdRm1VngChmVgoQIGtOplRujfvBXrmzvf4VBYENlus6_A/s600/hag%20lair.jpg" width="600" /></a></div><br />"What's that?" she asks the caravan master.<br /><br />"That is the dwelling of a terrible, old HAG. She won't come out into the daylight, but fear of her keeps the bandits away, so I always rest the caravan here."<br /><br />"I want to meet her," says Ksandajja. "Is it permitted?"<br /><br />"Be my guest. But we leave when the sands of my hourglass have run down, so don't tarry."<br /><br />The climb up the rock face is mush easier than anticipated, almost as if the hag intended it for visitors -- or unsuspecting prey. Ksandajja has left her sword with Novoldgan; she hopes coming unarmed will shew her to be absent of ill intentions. But she calls a bold halloo into the dark hut, for she must not display any weakness or fear.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnnV72nALfvMQqXxlT73eOEewfSUQFbLB76X0CCO4otCh7DrEZCWPdaZBJzI9SRWjGKhK18ojE7zaIoRAcS3IbclqeV0GUyPmX3Afy1vhsR65uXgsSfb714rwRIzioH9Z7KkXA70XOAxIcCf6xnQjCXZNZBs7f_usvsSqoc8Al_wNhu6PCoA8_cOUwzk/s502/hag.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="502" data-original-width="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnnV72nALfvMQqXxlT73eOEewfSUQFbLB76X0CCO4otCh7DrEZCWPdaZBJzI9SRWjGKhK18ojE7zaIoRAcS3IbclqeV0GUyPmX3Afy1vhsR65uXgsSfb714rwRIzioH9Z7KkXA70XOAxIcCf6xnQjCXZNZBs7f_usvsSqoc8Al_wNhu6PCoA8_cOUwzk/s16000/hag.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>HAG SKILL 7 STAMINA 7</b></div><b><div style="text-align: center;"><b>MAGIC 7</b></div></b><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Etiquette roll to avoid a faux pas with the Hag: 2d6=4, success]</span><br /><br />An impossibly shrill, grating voice answers in kind, and bids her enter. The only light inside the dusty enclosure is the hag's cooking fire made from old bones, above which something greasy bubbles in a cauldron of beaten bronze. Ksandajja's nose wrinkles at the reek of carrion, but the rheumy-eyed hag is too blind to notice. She toddles over, squinting at the new arrival, then grabs her by the wrist in a grip like iron manacles. She pulls Ksandajja close, sniffing noisily at her skin and hair.<br /><br />"Come not so lately from the jungle, have ye? And oh! the old magic ye tasted there. Very dark. Very old." <span style="color: #800180;">[UNE: mysterious - obscurity - previous scene]</span><br /><br />"That will lie hidden. I shan't go back to disturb it."<br /><br />"Wise ye are, then. Now, what brings ye to the cottage of old Hlugkhas?"<br /><br />"I come seeking your counsel. The road I travel is long and dangerous, and the nearer I come to its end, the less sure I am of how I am to proceed."<br /><br />"There's none can tell ye that, child, save your own heart."<br /><br />"But the foe I must face seems indomitable."<br /><br />"And what foe be that?"<br /><br />"Ymiasma, the so-called Demon Queen."<br /><br />"Oh, she's a right horrid one. Wicked and hurtful, and a vicious tyrant. 'twere good her domain be so remote, lest she raise armies with a conqueror's fist. So great she is and awful -- even hiding in her fortress, she poisons the land. The Blue Wastes spread year on year, and the dying land surrounding them becomes lifeless desert. Ye're far from the first hero I've seen going off to meet her. If it be truly my counsel ye seek, then heed: turn back now, and forget this doomed errand. Greater than ye have sought fortune and fame in the wastes, and found only death." <span style="color: #800180;">[prejudiced - dislike - power]</span><br /><br />"I seek not gold, and have no use for glory. Yet must I see her evil vanquished."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Can the hag offer advice? unknown d6=1, 100%: O5 C6 - yes<br />(1d6) 1 item, 2 weakness, 3 ally, 4 defence, 5 secret, 6 riddle: 4<br />Q: What defence? Carelessly / Lonely]</span><br /><br />"Then I'll tell ye what I told the others, though none ever seemed to hear it. Old Hlugkhas has heard her mournful sighs carried on the night winds. The Queen sits friendless and alone in her tower. She'll not harm ye if she wants to keep ye round for companionship."<br /><br /><br /><i>next post: a new undertaking</i><br /><br />
Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-58625747002592946332024-03-11T19:52:00.002+00:002024-03-11T19:53:05.392+00:00AFF solo - Part XIV: Caravan guards!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpLZ-E0T2JFaZvDrp1Xe58Jg4pLh1qJdrI2u8mtF5NrxQgNoXC6-1s6oznBj2igtae8-PCyqa3UCqgxkP818VizmS2hKtR147EcqSumJCRuH6S9IFEDt4BwKz5YtHro7usaDqbMsjQurSHIs9wyltR1wKn-Xc9Hf5IpSvHkFuj-n2p2ODMZrAOQ8p2ho/s1000/fortified_settlementSMALL.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="602" data-original-width="1000" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpLZ-E0T2JFaZvDrp1Xe58Jg4pLh1qJdrI2u8mtF5NrxQgNoXC6-1s6oznBj2igtae8-PCyqa3UCqgxkP818VizmS2hKtR147EcqSumJCRuH6S9IFEDt4BwKz5YtHro7usaDqbMsjQurSHIs9wyltR1wKn-Xc9Hf5IpSvHkFuj-n2p2ODMZrAOQ8p2ho/w640-h386/fortified_settlementSMALL.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Yagk is a walled town built on an escarpment looking down onto the river <span style="color: #800180;">[feature: fortified settlement]</span>. The guards at the dockside gate are <span style="color: #800180;">[reaction=7]</span> decidedly uninterested, but let the travellers pass. The mood in the streets is subdued, as priests meander about blessing the fortifications in the name of Usrel, goddess of Peace <span style="color: #800180;">[Cities encounter]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Event (from <u><a href="https://aleaiactandaest.blogspot.com/2021/07/aff-solo-part-xiii-perils-of-night.html">last post</a></u>): Introduce a new NPC - Recruit / Exterior factors <br />the NPC approaches (d10) 1 f, 3-4 g, 5-7 i, 8-0 k; 1d10=g<br /><br />UNE--<br />NPC Relationship: friendly<br />Conversation Mood: sociable]</span><br /><br />That night, Grebdal Themp is still drinking in the inn's common room long after his friends have retired. The only other patron present (excepting the tradesman passed out in the corner) is a middle-aged man in simple yet costly travelling clothes. They fall to talking in the disinterested way that travellers do, but Grebdal Themp gets the impression that he's being sized up.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSOTfDohukvi6gzhJ36Ph6K98kfXSdnL-chyphenhyphenexXdFKLM-4_Ps_qR2_1PB083jLXZNyL9NLhMl3cPCJrjvHUAfgpUliM13p6wnHwzy3SZOaF91HKIvDFnC0WAH9iiH8Bd8MMybWtIrsA5f8WNLMFGAle3tTIJUAtcBLHxm7S-MgjB5_NkRPwwkJLVk4I88/s982/PCs-partXIV.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="383" data-original-width="982" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSOTfDohukvi6gzhJ36Ph6K98kfXSdnL-chyphenhyphenexXdFKLM-4_Ps_qR2_1PB083jLXZNyL9NLhMl3cPCJrjvHUAfgpUliM13p6wnHwzy3SZOaF91HKIvDFnC0WAH9iiH8Bd8MMybWtIrsA5f8WNLMFGAle3tTIJUAtcBLHxm7S-MgjB5_NkRPwwkJLVk4I88/w640-h250/PCs-partXIV.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L to R : Ksandajja the sorceress, Ilog the warrior, Fhenteskeer the fire-priest, Grebdal Themp the "stealth specialist"</td></tr></tbody></table><br />He tells of meeting Ksandajja the sorceress in coin-clipping Ângu, and how she led them beneath the city streets to root out the cult of Decay. He speaks of meeting Ilog in Ulq, and following the huge warrior through the steamy, cannibal-infested jungle to the ruined temple of a forgotten demoness, where they put an end to to the evil scheme of a mad wizard. He tells how Fenteskeer, priest of Filash, called down his god's lambent flames to eradicate the undead menaces therein, how mighty Ilog bested the wizard's sorcerous creation with his whirling mace-and-chain, and how the sorceress at last defeated the wizard with spell and steel. And so too does he tell of his own occasional valour, as when he himself felled the wizard's mutated reptile-creature with his own swift blade.<br /><br />"Those sound like quite the adventures! Though whether I should credit them or not... no matter. You say you're headed to Drammub next. My caravan departs for Drammub in a few days. We could use some extra guards on this trip; the desert raiders have been exceptionally bold of late, and they've been seen further west than Tross -- to say nothing of the other hazards of the wilderness! If you and your friends are looking for some work, come see me before we leave. It's safer with the caravan, and certainly more lucrative than paying us for passage."<br /><br />"I shall put it to them on the morrow. But whom should I ask for at the caravanserai?"<br /><br />"When I said it was <i>my</i> caravan, I did not speak lightly. I am Novoldgan, scion of the Venerable Trading House of Drund. I hope we shall meet again soon."<br /><br /><b>* * *</b><br /><br />Grebdal Themp puts Novoldgan's offer before his companions, and they unanimously agree that travelling with the caravan is the simplest course of action. They go to see him straightaway, and after he interviews each of them in turn about their skills and abilities, decides to hire them all.<br /><br />The next two days in the small town pass without incident. The briefest flutter of excitement occurs when Ksandajja finally finds a buyer for the hideous sacrificial dagger she took from the defeated Decay cult magician, and buys her friends a round of drinks to celebrate.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[I abstracted the interviews down to a single skill test for each PC (at +1, as they are the right sort for the job), based on what they are bringing to the table.<br /><br />K: "I'm a sorceress." MAGIC 5 + Sorcery 2 +1 =8; 2d6=7, ok<br />I: "Check out these thews. They are mighty, no?" SKILL 7 + Strength 2 +1 =10: 2d6=9, ok<br />F: "My god will ensure the success of your mission." MAGIC 6 + Priestly mag. 3 +1 =10; 2d6=3, ok<br />G: "I'm surprisingly good in a fight." SKILL 7 + Swords 2 +1 =10; 2d6=8, ok ("No hard feelings, said Novoldgan, but I needed to be sure I had the right measure of you when I'm not in my cups."<br /><br />They leave in 1d6=2 days<br /><br />Pay is 8gp/day, per Heroes' Companion, mercenary soldier -- he's only paying for guard duty, not spellcasters/thieves/etc., even though he hired them based on what they bring to the table. Plus they get free PROVISIONS.<br /><br />The fancy sacrificial dagger was worth 2d6=7gp; Ksandajja tried to sell it for twice that (she'd no clue of its value). The merchant's Skill/Bargain: 1d6+3=8; Ksandajja's 2d6+8-3=12 merch 2d6+8=11! An unlikely success enriches our heroine.<br /><br />Each PC manages to spend 10gp in town.<br /><br />Also, I gave everyone 50xp each for the jungle adventure, and they spent some to improve skills:<br /><br />G spends 30 to increase Sneaking to level 3<br />I spends 20 for Bows 2<br />F spends 30 for Armour 3 (allows him to wear a leather hauberk, which he buys for 30gp, some of which he had to borrow -- he now owes Ksandajja 4gp, though she doesn't care enough to ever ask for it back)<br />K spends 20 for Second Sight 2]</span><br /><br />At dawn on the day of departure, Grebdal Themp and his associates bid their goodbyes to the comforts of the inn, and walk through the sleepy streets to the caravanserai. They find Novoldgan already directing his subordinates as the final preparations are made.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkC4yiZmOM7CknLLqnHb5XftNTUe76ec5cE38gOOWwp7D6aF9cdrOIgQQEErFYtMF9mYLBxjgWjRx3P2GAwGJxQHliuzzcF4iqT7v7RjyX4EWHS-z7RP5daGKwYEbcVXsP31d6-1MEzN0k0WR7GtSHvrRFrfzuTtKlACuV6oktey7W8UQkTgyIBglZRQ/s800/caravanserai.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="617" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkC4yiZmOM7CknLLqnHb5XftNTUe76ec5cE38gOOWwp7D6aF9cdrOIgQQEErFYtMF9mYLBxjgWjRx3P2GAwGJxQHliuzzcF4iqT7v7RjyX4EWHS-z7RP5daGKwYEbcVXsP31d6-1MEzN0k0WR7GtSHvrRFrfzuTtKlACuV6oktey7W8UQkTgyIBglZRQ/w494-h640/caravanserai.jpg" width="494" /></a></div>The caravan comprises <span style="color: #800180;">[2d6x2=]</span> 18 camels laden with goods: exotic spices from the Baubauan jungle, grains from Ornut, rice from Ulisc, local sweetmeats, steel implements of dwarven make, bronze cookpots from Girnas, iron ones from Hmal. At least the caravaneers should eat well. There are nine more camels to bear the necessaries for the journey, use as spares, and for Novoldgan himself to ride. <br /><br />There are <span style="color: #800180;">[5d6=]</span> 14 caravaneers in total, of which <span style="color: #800180;">[1d6=]</span> two are huge, taciturn warriors from the desert. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Any additional travellers? 50/50 (4+): O5 C4 - yes, but... just one<br />Q: Who? Helplessly / Beautiful]</span><br /><br />There is but one 'passenger' travelling with them, a beautiful young <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=m]</span> bridegroom, off to marry a powerful <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=f]</span> merchant princess in Drammub. He is accompanied at all times by his bodyguard/duenna, a woman so sour-faced that she is rumoured to be merely a diminutive OGRE. <span style="color: #800180;">[Should it come up, I'll use ogre for her stats, per Out of the Pit.]</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Auj-BJKfXx44P1kA0PP3PB1v1ayfzGY5fJVLIp9s1eNnFNmOP2qx_UG0-JYI5REKKN1Bg_jSP8WCnBAHb1HKSPFppff_ib2BGW12mTyHDxJplX6HRzNxjYyU4pc8PsxCkJEHG4TeiqFh9v2f7ovBBHzwZU4VvcLjQHAEyJW4dAPpYecs1hewGM8pPDg/s632/duenna.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="632" data-original-width="454" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Auj-BJKfXx44P1kA0PP3PB1v1ayfzGY5fJVLIp9s1eNnFNmOP2qx_UG0-JYI5REKKN1Bg_jSP8WCnBAHb1HKSPFppff_ib2BGW12mTyHDxJplX6HRzNxjYyU4pc8PsxCkJEHG4TeiqFh9v2f7ovBBHzwZU4VvcLjQHAEyJW4dAPpYecs1hewGM8pPDg/w287-h400/duenna.jpg" width="287" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>DUENNA SKILL 8 STAMINA 10</b></div><br />Novoldgan expects everyone to pitch in where they can, including the four new mercenaries he's just hired. Likewise, everyone is expected to defend the caravan as well as they are able. About half of the caravaneers are decent fighters, and even the young bridegroom wears a pretty little rapier on his belt.<br /><br />The caravan master makes curt introductions, then sends his new employees to help with various tasks as a way to meet the rest fully. Fhenteskeer and Ilog are met with cautious acceptance; the next day's travel will prove their merit to the caravaneers. Grebdal Themp is regarded with suspicion and barely-concealed hatred. He can't think of any misstep he's committed, and reasons that perhaps they are jealous of his new and easy friendship with the boss. But when Ksandajja steps forward, they are all entranced. It is as if she'd ensorceled them with a Jewell of Gold, for they all instantly desire the friendship of the alluring sorceress. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[I'd rolled general 2d6 reaction rolls for each PC to see what the caravan folk think of them--<br />F: neutral<br />G: hostile<br />I: neutral<br />K: natural 12!<br /><br />Q: Will the bridegroom take any interest in the PCs? 50/50 (4+): O1 C3 - no, but... the duenna will on day 1d6=1<br />Q: How many PCs? 1d4=1 PC; 1d4=Ilog<br />Q: Can Ksandajja find an instructor to learn the Mounted Combat special skill? 50/50 (4+): O5 C2 - yes and... <br /><br /><b>Travel Procedure:</b> For each day of travel, there will be one daytime and one nighttime encounter check (1-2 on d6) + one event roll (1d6: 1 major, 2-3 minor, 4-6 none) + one feature roll (per the Heroes' Companion). For the sake of readability, I won't report the actual die rolls, or mention when they come up as Nothing. There'll be plenty of other game mechanics on this trip.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b>Day 1</b><br /><br />The caravan sets out into the hills east of Yagk. As they leave the river behind, the air becomes drier and the terrain less verdant. The heat is no where near as sweltering as in the jungle, but Grebdal Themp is still glad of his weather protection tattoo. He knows he'll be doubly glad when they reach the desert proper. The caravan moves at a steady pace, Novoldgan leading the way on his camel, flanked always by his foreign bodyguard, a grim and violent mound of muscle know only as 'The Zkkanj'.<br /><br />The rolling hills give way to stony escarpments and gravel-strewn valleys, and the trees disappear almost entirely. Scraggly weeds cling to the rocks and sprout low in the sandy soil.<br /><br />A line of cave mouths yawn on a cliff face. Several of the caravaneers invoke the names of their gods and protective genii at the sight. Perhaps their prayers are heard, for no horrors issue forth from the blackness.<br /><br />Ksandajja makes the rounds of the caravan, getting to know everyone, though she does have her own purpose in mind. She's decided she needs to learn the art of mounted combat if her quest is to succeed, and the caravan seems the best place to find a teacher. And it indeed transpires that one of her admirers is happy to instruct her, just to spend time with the new favourite. Telnah is one of the camel handlers <span style="color: #800180;">[Boldly / Rough]</span>, but <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=]</span> she was once a soldier stationed in Drammub's garrison. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Ksandajja will spend 20xp to learn the special skill at level 1 by the end of the journey.<br /><br />Q: Will anyone else get jealous of / unhappy with the attention? 50/50 (4+): O4 C8 - yes. After 1d8=2 days]</span> <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURNc7C38QHANNZgwhESWIRqWxVJbjSetMOU-_ddYCZlPuUMqqWceTwZhphsWbPogA5Re1yLQhPuuTQnwisbiI8ogMy8T3LLhghoHHKiTH0uUCMD8G-4_xmU62hj7EOiAxRfwydx9-B0ZjYoj732oa69E3b7EmRnsqehm2Zwmix1w7fNw9WDQJeAyHowU/s537/jaloux.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="495" data-original-width="537" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhURNc7C38QHANNZgwhESWIRqWxVJbjSetMOU-_ddYCZlPuUMqqWceTwZhphsWbPogA5Re1yLQhPuuTQnwisbiI8ogMy8T3LLhghoHHKiTH0uUCMD8G-4_xmU62hj7EOiAxRfwydx9-B0ZjYoj732oa69E3b7EmRnsqehm2Zwmix1w7fNw9WDQJeAyHowU/s400/jaloux.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Telnah and the sorceress soon become inseparable, but jealous eyes are cast in their direction. And Ksandajja is not the only one whose every move is observed, and every word scrutinised, for the duenna has taken a particular interest in mighty Ilog. She watches him with cool detachment, silently planning her next move. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: How does the duenna's interest in Ilog manifest? perceive / distance - spying on him<br /><br />Awareness rolls at -1 to detect observation<br />Ilog: 7+1-1=7; 2d6=8, fail<br />Ksandajja: 6+2-1=7; 2d6=11, fail<br /><br />Q: How long before the duenna makes a move? 1d4=2 days]</span><br /><br />Neither barbarian nor sorceress have the barest suspicion that they are being watched.<br /><br /><br /><b>Day 2</b><br /><br />There is commotion in the camp as dawn breaks. Some time in the night, three spears were thrust into the earth before Novoldgan's tent, the author of this deed having eluded the sentries. The newer caravaneers are perplexed and frightened, but when Novoldgan emerges from his tent he greets the sight with a thoughtful smile, for he knows its import. He follows the line described by the row of spears off into the distance, and can just make out a forest-green tent on a far away hillock; a band of MOUNTAIN ELVES have come down from their craggy home to trade.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Random encounter: 1d3=3 mountain elves<br />Q: Come to trade? likely (3+): O6 C7 - yes<br />Q: Can PCs pick up rumours from elves? 50/50 (4+): O2 C1 - no, and...]</span><br /><br />Novoldgan and his lieutenant are the only ones allowed to approach the shy elves. They ride off on camels to do business as the rest are told to strike camp.<br /><br />Grebdal Themp's curiosity gets the better of him. He tries to slink away from the camp and eavesdrop using a bit of minor magic he's picked up. If he can just see Novoldgan and the elves talking, his cantrip will whisk their words to him on the wind. But <span style="color: #800180;">[Sneak roll fails]</span> the only words he hears belong to a peevish merchant behind him.<br /><br />"You there! Just where do you think you're going!"<br /><br />"Er, um, just stretching my legs. I'm unused to sleeping out in the open." <span style="color: #800180;">[Bargain (7+0) to stay out of trouble: 2d6=4, ok]</span> <br /><br />"Just you mind to stay where you're told to next time."<br /><br />Novoldgan concludes his business with the elves, then the caravan sets off. The day passes without incident. A PTERODACTYL is spotted soaring overhead, but it has learnt not to fly too close to humans and their stinging arrows.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodoE5dCWJqMVvzYBKtMAILAOPPJDHuym-eSuB70h4mnur-O5Ev4xYR5Z-xbxJ7xBDE7T_ohtlnfsI5OuoaSB5zBa-ssOvobwnyZH5MgJvC8WrdnTRcqJdPrkEi8pTu5lN03voboIH5IL3YsbjnzGzVB17yXHAIhxtub19oM3paXISx7VqPcj2_4bTmA8/s1288/pterodactyl.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="588" data-original-width="1288" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiodoE5dCWJqMVvzYBKtMAILAOPPJDHuym-eSuB70h4mnur-O5Ev4xYR5Z-xbxJ7xBDE7T_ohtlnfsI5OuoaSB5zBa-ssOvobwnyZH5MgJvC8WrdnTRcqJdPrkEi8pTu5lN03voboIH5IL3YsbjnzGzVB17yXHAIhxtub19oM3paXISx7VqPcj2_4bTmA8/w640-h293/pterodactyl.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>The day's only real danger befalls Ksandajja. In the course of her evening lesson, she makes a regrettable error of judgement and is knocked from her saddle. Her shoulder is sore and bruised from the impact of the blunted lance, as too her backside is bruised and sore from the impact of the hard-packed, sandy dirt. But she laughs and laughs at her own misfortune, and her admirers in the camp cannot but laugh with her. Yet there is one who feels no mirth, only burning hatred as the robust Telnah extends a hand to help the sorceress to her feet.<br /><br /><br /><i>next post: danger in the desert</i><br /><br /> Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-57225480753475498602023-10-31T09:48:00.003+00:002023-10-31T09:48:45.553+00:00Spooky story for Halloween <p> On my other blog: <a href="https://beluosus.dreamwidth.org/521432.html" rel="nofollow" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" target="_blank">https://beluosus.dreamwidth.org/521432.html</a></p><p>Scroll down for the English version. </p>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-22418717798639715882023-10-22T11:22:00.001+01:002023-10-22T11:22:14.921+01:00ItO solo - Part XI : The Star Being<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYEUZcSCRkiCSACMDNq9DZoXJDJFIt3IO0-ip6S11uBK4dDehcmpoERdlJVGWYduhptItwPI5EmicIigbgn2X5zrSsbH9hbg2_Ie3ckhlDbuD40gklmJ5f5entY7cEYqE68YV7RAH7RzjIQl6LMZWZAISLeFgxBMbVYXRdyHoxpzwfF02O1D5tAGe3rI/s800/zurzoria%20and%20bassianus.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="544" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYEUZcSCRkiCSACMDNq9DZoXJDJFIt3IO0-ip6S11uBK4dDehcmpoERdlJVGWYduhptItwPI5EmicIigbgn2X5zrSsbH9hbg2_Ie3ckhlDbuD40gklmJ5f5entY7cEYqE68YV7RAH7RzjIQl6LMZWZAISLeFgxBMbVYXRdyHoxpzwfF02O1D5tAGe3rI/s600/zurzoria%20and%20bassianus.jpg" /></a></div>"The Star Being... has... broken free!" gasps Zurzoria. "Those... fools thought they... could control it!"<br /><br />"Sit down, my lady," says Ilmen, pushing a chair beneath her and then pouring a stiff brandy to calm her nerves.<br /><br />"What is the Star being?" asks Bassianus once she is breathing normally again.<br /><br />"Whatever horror you think the name implies is sufficient."<br /><br />"How was it restrained?" asks Athalie.<br /><br />"We, er, had it locked in a closet."<br /><br />"Can we bind it again? Should we, even?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Should they? 50/50 (4+): O2 C2 - No, and... ]</span><br /><br />"No! And we should avoid it, whatever the cost. All who behold it have their souls stripped away by the cosmic winds. Now, you lot found a way in, so I assume you can find the way back out. Take me with you! Bring me back to the rest of the cabal, the ones on the outside. I have seen the error of my ways, and I have information to offer them which will be to their advantage." <span style="color: #800180;">[scheming - agenda - family]</span><br /><br />"What about me...?" mumbles Ilmen.<br /><br />"Of course, you may come too. Are we all agreed?"<br /><br />"But... my arrears..." moans Isabeau.<br /><br />"Allow me to persuade them that whatever they may have initially asked for, circumstances have changed, and this discharges your obligation admirably."<br /><br />"Let's go then!"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[+EVENT (from above): NPC negative - scribe - unavoidable Damnation : removing them from the NPC list...<br /><br />Chaos increases now that the Star Being is loose.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 7<br /><br />Chaos: </b>madness (d6)<br /><br /><b>Setup: </b>escape<br /><br /><b>NPC List: </b>the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain, Tail, Zurzoria, Ilmen, the Star Being<br /><br /><b>Threads: </b>investigate location, get out alive<br /><br /><br />They go hurriedly out of the retreat and towards the stairs to the basement.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[encounter, major personage (d3): 1 villain, 2 star being, 3 other councillor: 2]</span><br /><br />They are almost to the stairway door when the lift descends and the gates slide back to reveal the Star Being. It has merged with the corporeal form of one of the council secretaries, but its magnificent radiance is overwhelming. Blue-white light emanates from it in a blinding aura, and the roar of cosmic winds deafens all within its reach. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxPY9waPZLe9An6qCSFc-s5xmCnU3-W2eHA55_7cHvKXXZcPqNurOfIKDO3v9wcvQ0xI6YyJbDkUszLJyeJ6n8VQIVebg1-ZjaVmcMluoSmjtWOokZi96CO-2ZjfRkFYg5Q43hgTPsT31nWKPsamQcaHklJKkjcO249FlG-mmLZB-eFyUXYKtdgqJ_tY/s1048/star%20being.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1048" data-original-width="783" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxPY9waPZLe9An6qCSFc-s5xmCnU3-W2eHA55_7cHvKXXZcPqNurOfIKDO3v9wcvQ0xI6YyJbDkUszLJyeJ6n8VQIVebg1-ZjaVmcMluoSmjtWOokZi96CO-2ZjfRkFYg5Q43hgTPsT31nWKPsamQcaHklJKkjcO249FlG-mmLZB-eFyUXYKtdgqJ_tY/w478-h640/star%20being.jpg" width="478" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: What does it do? <span style="font-family: georgia;">But, when I take the Universe for my Standard, how scanty is their Size, how contemptible their Figure!</span>]</span><br /><br />It takes no notice of the cowed mortals, strides past without so much as acknowledging they exist. The blue fires of untold suns blaze in its eyes, and the tiny quivering mortal creatures avert their eyes quickly so as not to meet its gaze.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[DEX saves all round to avoid its gaze : Athalie & Ilmen fail theirs. Those who made it take a mere d6 WIL damage, Athalie & Ilmen take d12.<br /><br />Bassianus 2 dmg to 5 WIL, Isabeau 2 to 8 WIL, Zurzoria 5 to 6 WIL.<br />Athalie 5dmg to 12, Ilmen takes 11, only had 9...<br /><br />Q: What does Athalie glimpse? <span style="font-family: georgia;">SUCH is the Moon; and such are all Sublunary Things</span>]</span><br /><br />Ilmen withers in the harsh light from beyond; his ashes blow away unseen in the astral gale. <br /><br />For the barest moment, Athalie glimpses an image reflected in the Star being's eyes. She sees herself and her companions as the Star Being sees them: how pale, how insignificant, how limited, existing as they do in only 11 dimensions. And how transient, their whole lives written like lovers' promises on wind and water*. She even sees the footnote.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: times;"> * Catullus 70: « ...sed mulier cupido quod dicit amanti / in vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua »</span><br /><br />The Star Being does not break stride as it walks purposefully past, though Athalie can not be certain it did not nod knowingly in her direction -- a fraction of a fraction of a micrometre.<br /><br />Just being touched by the aura surrounding the Star Being leaves the others with a sickening feeling, as if they'd just come off a week-long laudanum bender. But Athalie feels a mordant emptiness in her soul, as if part of her psyche were torn off and hurled amongst the cosmic winds.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrnAFLszhhSKF038gCmTrwlxiWXOsNgbR_yeM9HiVo_DnEpA5XvvYBzj2kpZXIx6Qv0-vGcaF1vYF7OO7CgiGF49I7TQP3VqEuZ-rjs5YmIx9vezR3TwsrZqQHMhGnHOJ6DhkCItLbtFWCWKKjact4zKtxkKuC80ETkNCTkVAOzlCJe2vdz6RvD2VHVEg/s569/cosmic.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="556" data-original-width="569" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrnAFLszhhSKF038gCmTrwlxiWXOsNgbR_yeM9HiVo_DnEpA5XvvYBzj2kpZXIx6Qv0-vGcaF1vYF7OO7CgiGF49I7TQP3VqEuZ-rjs5YmIx9vezR3TwsrZqQHMhGnHOJ6DhkCItLbtFWCWKKjact4zKtxkKuC80ETkNCTkVAOzlCJe2vdz6RvD2VHVEg/s600/cosmic.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>A voice sounds in her ears, at once familiar and far-away. "Dearest? Dearest! Are you still amongst the living?"<br /><br />Athalie stumbles over her words a few times before her tongue remembers the faculty of speech. "What?"<br /><br />"I said, 'won't you please wind my hand again, dearest'. It's run down again, and I can't open my fingers to grab the lantern."<br /><br />Athalie helps Isabeau with her clockwork hand as Bassianus relights her lantern. He hands it over, and Isabeau leads the way down the stairs. <br /><br />The cellar level is dark and mostly empty. The explorers find a servant in the giant silkworms' vaulted chamber who is too drunk to notice them file past <span style="color: #800180;">[4 Oracle questions to figure out this non-event deleted]</span>. In the utensil room they find three more servants searching for weapons by candlelight.<br /><br />"Let us pass," says Zurzoria. <span style="color: #800180;">[Wil save=4, ok]</span><br /><br />One curtsies, the other two grunt and go about their business. The explorers reach the stairs to the sub-basement without further incident.<br /><br />"Where's Chatterton?" asks Athalie at the bottom of the stairwell.<br /><br />"Gone!" exclaims Bassianus. "Probably stolen by a fleeing servant, I'll wager."<br /><br />"Is it wrong of me to feel a little relieved?" asks Isabeau. "Only I wasn't sure how to tell him about Mortine."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[For the trip back, I'll be counting down the turns/areas from the Random Location Crafting. As usual, there's a 1-in-6 chance of encounters in each.]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T12</b>]</span><br /><br />They file out of the hole they'd broken through the bricked-over wall at in the sub-basement, firearms readied. They look about furtively for signs of any one --or anything-- lurking in the dismal concrete tunnel. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Athalie's WIL save succeeds, so...<br />Q: Any signs? unlikely (5+): O6 C6 - yes<br />+Event: NPC negative - the Superior Order (will wait until the PCs reach their location to figure out what happened)<br />Q: Signs: <span style="font-family: georgia;">Waters drop, incessantly, from, the Eves</span> =blood trail<br />Q: The way the PCs are going? 50/50 (4+): O3 C2 - no, and...]</span><br /><br />"Look!" cries Athalie. "A trail of blood! It starts there on the steps and leads off that way."<br /><br />"Which way are we going? asks Zurzoria<br /><br />"T'other," says Bassianus.<br /><br />"Well, good luck to whoever else got away!"<br /><br />The explorers proceed back to the platform <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T11</b>]</span>, and Isabeau once again operates the pump car back to the basement of the ruined theatre <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T10]</b></span>. They then go up the rusting stairs <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T10 Special</b>]</span> to the roof, through a trapdoor and down a ladder to the balcony <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T7</b>]</span> out of theatre to the subterranean street <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T6</b>]</span> where a terrible stench -- worse than the the ambient reek of the underground -- assails their nostrils. <span style="color: #800180;">[encounter: stinking filth, bull, controls others]</span><br /><br />A bull blocks their path. The creature stands proud and erect, and would cut a commanding figure were it not for the malodorous secretions matting its long shaggy coat into an oily tangle.<br /><br />Athalie senses a glimmer of intelligence in its mien, and steps forward, intending to reason with it. <span style="color: #800180;">[WIL save: d20= 18, fail]</span><br /><br />"Please, gentle sir, we mean onl--"<br /><br />The beast lowers its horns and springs at her.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNtKgCqvZyKKYiLzys0gsBZkeyqHqB30cfkZQeDw5kTNWH-xMumn4P0lVsqd-yYSG52GMM3BAKxayQDMndoiFrHSOYaByt5ZItM1PchZqBtHni52bKQEWOVU-phVIEWJxoBQy8N_hBi1ETc8wIfkq0Kea7FSTQ_0Mw4pjzQvXm2li-aJsoS6fXMIBBmk/s641/filth%20bull.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="641" height="598" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNtKgCqvZyKKYiLzys0gsBZkeyqHqB30cfkZQeDw5kTNWH-xMumn4P0lVsqd-yYSG52GMM3BAKxayQDMndoiFrHSOYaByt5ZItM1PchZqBtHni52bKQEWOVU-phVIEWJxoBQy8N_hBi1ETc8wIfkq0Kea7FSTQ_0Mw4pjzQvXm2li-aJsoS6fXMIBBmk/w640-h598/filth%20bull.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Filth Bull<br />STR 14, DEX 6, WIL 8, 6 HP<br />driven to cause strife<br />Oily Horns: d10, next attack impaired from nausea<br />Sow Confusion: each round, a random target must make WIL save or turn on friends until bull dead (automatic power, functions even when unconscious)</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br />The explorers unload their guns into the stinking creature, and it falls in mid-charge. <span style="color: #800180;">[2+6+3=11 damage, to 0hp 9STR: d20=14, crit]</span><br /><br />But even as the fallen creature's ragged breathing seems about to fade, <span style="color: #800180;">[d4=]</span>Athalie feels a psychic force grasping at her mind. <span style="color: #800180;">[WIL save=2, success]</span> She steels herself against its control and shrieks, "it's not dead!"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br />Swords and an axe are brought to bear against the helpless creature. They slash and chop and cleave until Athalie assures them the danger has passed. <span style="color: #800180;">[damage 9+4+11 = dead (attacks are Enhanced against defenceless foes)]</span><br /><br />They reload quickly, then continue lest any other beasties lurk in the open. <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=5, nothing else attracted by gunfire]</span> Back they go through the hole into the vault <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T5</b>]</span>, over the marble floor <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T4</b>]</span>, and along the balcony <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T3</b>]</span> to the long curving room <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T2</b>]</span>, and thence through the rotten dwelling <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T1</b>]</span>, and finally down the grand hallway to the bottom of the well <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>T0</b>]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is their rope still there? doubtful (6): O3 C3 - yes, but... <br />+Event: Ambiguous event - <span style="font-family: georgia;">Every Object, a little while ago, glared with Light</span>]</span><br /><br />The dull grey circle above indicates it is still daytime. But the rope seems to be missing. No, not missing -- some <unprintable> passer-by has untied it and thrown it down the well. At least, thinks Athalie, it wasn't stolen. <br /><br />Isabeau breaks off a limb from the vanquished iron serpent which will readily answer for grappling hook, then they take turns throwing it up the well and trying to catch the edge.<br /><br />Suddenly an intense blue light shines down the well for a moment, blinding them all. They feel the push at their souls, but fortunately the diffuse rays of the cosmic wind wash over them only briefly <span style="color: #800180;">[no WIL damage]</span>.<br /><br />"The Star Being!" gasps lady Belial. "He's escaped the stronghold!"<br /><br />They wait an extra long time <span style="color: #800180;">[2 more encounter checks' worth]</span> before continuing with the grapple throwing. At last it catches firmly on the side of the well, and one by one they scale the rope up to street level. Not a soul stirs in the empty square, though the feeling of being watched is palpable. They hurry away into a more populated district.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim3SH2BREMhra3YX8zr9hC2W4Ka1oGK3qMRLQjqQ0NQ72BXWPEho7ml6F48QGM-qhMclPXF-aO4S6F-D1NxLfLsTDpBdcPFg4AfnZjnklv2CGkCNPh3bVpN7b331h_CxRLTd3qfAI5edO7rH_cRmp4gy8Nz3k-N2ue4cbIBLfE6l7_FpZmWIWK9_9l1BM/s913/street%20scene.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="456" data-original-width="913" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim3SH2BREMhra3YX8zr9hC2W4Ka1oGK3qMRLQjqQ0NQ72BXWPEho7ml6F48QGM-qhMclPXF-aO4S6F-D1NxLfLsTDpBdcPFg4AfnZjnklv2CGkCNPh3bVpN7b331h_CxRLTd3qfAI5edO7rH_cRmp4gy8Nz3k-N2ue4cbIBLfE6l7_FpZmWIWK9_9l1BM/w640-h320/street%20scene.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>"Now that we're out of that dreadful undercity," says Zurzoria, "I simply must ask: wherever are those reprobates -- I mean, my esteemed and worthy colleagues -- hiding out?"<br /><br />"They've taken rooms at the Despair & Anchor," answers Isabeau.<br /><br />"How déclassé! But come, let us make haste. Someone, hail that cab." <span style="color: #800180;">[Fastest way across town: d%=horse carriage]</span><br /><br />"I'm afraid we're a bit skint," admits Bassianus.<br /><br />"Not to worry, I've plenty of dosh."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Do they get back without incident? likely (3+): O4 C4 - yes, but... takes longer than it should <br />+Event: PC negative - Isabeau - <span style="font-family: georgia;">stung by the Serpent</span>]</span><br /><br />The inside of the coach smells faintly of sick, though the explorers cannot but wonder if its their clothing providing the odour; two trips through the underworld will do that. They are very certain that the cabbie is driving the long way round on purpose, but as they are feeling rather weary (two trips through the underworld will do that, too), they don't castigate the driver. And Lady Belial's paying for it, after all.<br /><br />But what they have failed to notice is that a street snake had curled up in the back of the carriage, and was sleeping peacefully beneath the back seat all this time. And as Isabeau stands to (finally) exit the coach, she accidentally treads it underfoot, for which she is rewarded with a venomous bite <span style="color: #800180;">[d12 poison: 6 to STR 11]</span>. She kills the hapless creature with her sword, and Zurzoria spends the next 20 minutes remonstrating with the cabbie <span style="color: #800180;">[her WIL save =2, success]</span> who eventually refunds half the fare. Isabeau is still a bit wobbly when the cab drives off, but Athalie reminds her she's ingested worse of an evening, and they proceed arm-in-arm towards the public house.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: So, what was the NPC Negative event that befell the renegade councillors (well above)? <span style="font-family: georgia;">stand exposed to the reproachful indignities, of an insolent Rabble]</span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cPvYP39haeIh2fjyIW1uC5lWJ0SJOiyYR6gGQ9U3cFGJYaQWliWZk3O4iVIc4ET1bXPWRvHycNA06jy2isrJn_hL9BQrZdsD6kbmkb8Kf9eG_VDATH2HrJE6ImKD3HURtMskr9LxTdW5_-Kf9Tx6ToQ3sNblyI40YFfasd-wB-oXbwovVLyWN4p8BMs/s800/in%20the%20stocks.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="513" data-original-width="800" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4cPvYP39haeIh2fjyIW1uC5lWJ0SJOiyYR6gGQ9U3cFGJYaQWliWZk3O4iVIc4ET1bXPWRvHycNA06jy2isrJn_hL9BQrZdsD6kbmkb8Kf9eG_VDATH2HrJE6ImKD3HURtMskr9LxTdW5_-Kf9Tx6ToQ3sNblyI40YFfasd-wB-oXbwovVLyWN4p8BMs/w640-h410/in%20the%20stocks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>But a great and heaving throng has gathered in the square before it. And who should be in the stocks in the middle of the square but the very councillors they had come to see -- the human ones at least. Zurzoria goes in to the back room of the pub and is pleased to find Ludovico's trapped spirit and St Aubert, the cat, have been overlooked by the mob. Zurzoria shuts the door to confer with them in private, but returns a few scant minutes later.<br /><br />"Well, this was a wasted trip," says Zurzoria.<br /><br />"My arrears," whines Isabeau.<br /><br />"Cheer up, my dear, whatever monies you may have owed are still within my power to strike from the record -- should the records still exist. I do hope the stronghold is at least somewhat intact, and there are some councillors still standing. Besides myself, that is."<br /><br />"Oh. When you put it that way..."<br /><br />"But come, let us repair to my residence for now. Tomorrow I shall send a messenger to the council chambers to see if any of them have survived."<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqX0ua1KNzGm9VBtR0DHp9Spv1S-fXnCX4BY8bil96oUzsAFGRrqesJZzUe2ZC2CCWjS8ZTxNMMCoosj4NNuf_RJqy34vI2EMST-55A8x2z90L1y-B6NSennTu4mTyen5Gp71vvK7bW6oUKTY0usKzrqk7JR9Nv9VxPNb0aq3kSbyx7_Sd5Felqfld8pk/s700/zurzoria_finis.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="556" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqX0ua1KNzGm9VBtR0DHp9Spv1S-fXnCX4BY8bil96oUzsAFGRrqesJZzUe2ZC2CCWjS8ZTxNMMCoosj4NNuf_RJqy34vI2EMST-55A8x2z90L1y-B6NSennTu4mTyen5Gp71vvK7bW6oUKTY0usKzrqk7JR9Nv9VxPNb0aq3kSbyx7_Sd5Felqfld8pk/s600/zurzoria_finis.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>~~ finis ~~</b></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><b><u>Dénouement</u></b><br /><br />Having completed the adventure, the PCs are 1/3 of the way to the next level. They have time for a long rest, meaning all their Ability Scores are back to full, except perhaps for Bassianus' STR. <br /><br />Bassianus was infected by the bite of the giant silkworm. Without treatment, he can't recover STR and will die in d4=3 weeks. I decided to ask the Oracle if he can be cured, but I decided all the interpretations in advance.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier;">Oracle<br />result Interpretation<br />------ -------------- <br />no, and... basically fucked<br />no can try later<br />no, but... opportunity during next adventure<br />yes, but... will have to trade Arcanum for it<br />yes incurs debt of 1d12x10 shillings<br />yes, and... remedy only costs 1s</span><br /><br />Q: Can Bassianus find a cure for the infection? 50/50 (4+): O1 C4 - no, but...<br /><br />At least, he has time to examine, and consume the contents of, the Mysterious Phial he'd found in the sub-basement: d%= insides feel cold, liquid metal coats bones - always have Armour 1.<br /><br /><br /><i>next adventure: serving 1d4+1 masters </i><br />Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-64951233093595599262023-10-14T12:35:00.000+01:002023-10-14T12:35:06.001+01:00ItO solo - Part X : Whatever Madame requires<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsgz8yblnePJc6oc0iLe435kELU_EkNyZbSvGw_F49fodMJWeqpGN8QG9_jy0pqJwhaOjQY3AAM-v3rqyM3quKld_MtQfCzOMaisEP1joVj4ZjFSBU_iAxLsdUdHhpa0_Eam84hc-HhBOfhw4kMNsOaxW64UTa-R4Ibwd0RqRxk7TLgle7d31snbitxjA/s700/Lady%20Zurzoria%20Belial.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="681" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsgz8yblnePJc6oc0iLe435kELU_EkNyZbSvGw_F49fodMJWeqpGN8QG9_jy0pqJwhaOjQY3AAM-v3rqyM3quKld_MtQfCzOMaisEP1joVj4ZjFSBU_iAxLsdUdHhpa0_Eam84hc-HhBOfhw4kMNsOaxW64UTa-R4Ibwd0RqRxk7TLgle7d31snbitxjA/s600/Lady%20Zurzoria%20Belial.jpg"/></a></div>They wheel about to see a woman in a floofy ballgown descending the stairs above them. The gas lamps on the landing send shimmers across the satin and taffeta, and her intricate coiffeur is a-gleam with glass and metal ornaments of unguessable antiquity (i.e. last season). But most arresting are her eyes, hidden behind great crystal lenses which pulse and shimmer with a inner light. These last mark her indisputably as Lady Zurzoria Belial, one of the rogue councillors.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: What is her immediate reaction? <span style="font-family: georgia;">a Sample of his Beneficence</span>]</span><br /><br />"Well, this is unexpected!" she says. "Whoever can you be? And whatever are you doing here? And however did you get in?"<br /><br />"Please, my Lady," says Athalie with an ungainly curtsey <span style="color: #800180;">[DEX save d20=7, ok - doesn't fall down stairs]</span>, "don't be alarmed. We were sent."<br /><br />"Sent? Whomever by?"<br /><br />"By certain of your colleagues on the outside. They expressed some consternation at their inability to come in person, and tasked us with finding an entrance and reconnoitring the building, to report back on conditions within."<br /><br />"I'm sure they were ever so worried about us! Or more likely, about whatever we're getting up to in their absence..."<br /><br />"Well, indeed, I can't say their intentions are entirely altruistic..." <span style="color: #800180;">[reaction - WIL save d20=4, ok]</span><br /><br />"And perhaps I should welcome the, er, assistance they sent. For whatever differences of opinion divide us, I fear we've now a common foe. Perhaps I may be able to use you. Er, I mean, be of use to you." <span style="color: #800180;">[friendly - aid - enemy]</span><br /><br />"What, um, what are your terms?" asks Isabeau.<br /><br />"My terms? Well, that, I suppose, will depend on whatever offer my esteemed colleagues put forth."<br /><br />"I just want my council tax arrears forgiven."<br /><br />"Is that all? I can surely see to that!"<br /><br />"And we all owe rather a great sum of money to our patron," adds Bassianus.<br /><br />"And just whoever is your patron?"<br /><br />"I... I'd rather not say."<br /><br />"We were cautioned against uttering his name aloud," adds Athalie.<br /><br />"His spies are everywhere," whispers Isabeau.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does she know their patron? likely (3+): O6 C5 - yes]</span><br /><br />"Say no more," says Zurzoria, casting a glance back over her shoulder. "I suppose I could put in a word."<br /><br />Zurzoria leads them down the stairs and into the little room beneath them with its agitated, wig-wearing occupant, whom she introduces as Ilmen Regal, one of the council tax collectors.<br /><br />"Now, my good Ilmen, these people are my dear friends, and are to be treated accordingly. And they're soon to be your friends as well, for I am sending them to recover the Arcanum that the other councillors have so wrongly taken from you. I, of course, must maintain plausible deniability in case anything whatsoever goes horribly, terribly, awfully wrong. To that end, I shall distract the others in the building whilst you, my dear friends, recover the Arcanum. It's on the first floor in the room off the chemical laboratory, on the west side of the building. Find me or Ilmen when you have it. And don't go up these stairs -- I'll try keep everyone on this side."<br /><br />Lady Belial flounces off up the stairs as the explorers return to the hall and then head east into a room with shelf after shelf of glass flasks <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Präparate</b> - preparations]</span>.<br /><br />Athalie reads a few of the labels aloud. "Phosgene... arsenic trioxide... sodium arsenate... Strongbow... I dare say most of these are too toxic to handle."<br /><br />They proceed with the utmost caution through the room and out into a chamber with work places <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Arbeitsplätze</b>]</span> along one wall and movable partitions between. They see no one, and their footsteps seem overly loud in the stillness. They continue east through an unused room and further into an anteroom <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Vorraum</b>]</span> with a line of comfortable wooden chairs and a magazine rack along one wall. Perched on one of the chairs is a nightmare insect, the size of a steamer trunk. The thing's carapace is gangrenous and decayed, but for every bit that sloughs off onto the befouled carpet, a new eruption of hard chitin grows elsewhere.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[encounter: weird thing<br />d%=decaying insect, regenerates]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2iDstXoAMZtJqXoCah3_HhbpXyEtScO1gmYgtHJXLUdLOmsceCK3opvIktGzKkyORZ1Ox7HHwNU4a3-ad66Px7ynVdeZTnmSQXxlIOynucBxoN_sinH39Y9YS4TIjjBDAxLtC6xxSUE_3-xjVQ4iQkt7ADQaZXHkGXxUPW1K8NwMQOhWlKTWYjZiaBU/s472/horrible%20insect.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="472" data-original-width="431" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk2iDstXoAMZtJqXoCah3_HhbpXyEtScO1gmYgtHJXLUdLOmsceCK3opvIktGzKkyORZ1Ox7HHwNU4a3-ad66Px7ynVdeZTnmSQXxlIOynucBxoN_sinH39Y9YS4TIjjBDAxLtC6xxSUE_3-xjVQ4iQkt7ADQaZXHkGXxUPW1K8NwMQOhWlKTWYjZiaBU/s400/horrible%20insect.jpg"/></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Horrible Insect<br />STR 10, DEX 17, WIL 10, 4 HP<br />broken mandibles (d8)<br />regenerates 1d12/round until destroyed with fire, acid, etc. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does it talk or just attack? 1d2=attack]</span><br /><br />The thing buzzes and gurgles with malice as it leaps on three unsteady legs towards the intruders in its domain.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br />They meet its onrush with bared steel. The blades bite deep, but despite the loss of several limbs the thing does not waver in its assault. <span style="color: #800180;">[3+3+3=9dmg to 0hp, 5 STR; d20=no crit]</span><br /><br />Its viscid mandibles snap at Athalie, forcing her back a step. The stench of decay coming off them makes her almost swoon. <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage puts her at 5hp]</span><br /><br />And its wounds seem about to close up <span style="color: #800180;">[regenerates d12=3, back up to 8 STR]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br />Athalie recovers and cracks its head open with her sword. Bassianus caves in its shoulder with his axe, and nearly connects with Isabeau's blade transfixing the beast from the other side. It falls to the ground, leaking an upsetting pool of foulness. <span style="color: #800180;">[5+3+2=10 dmg to -2STR]</span>.<br /><br />"I think we're safe," hazards Bassianus. "It's brains are seeping into the carpeting."<br /><br />"Athalie, dear," says Isabeau, "you're looking rather peaked. Maybe you'd ought to sit down for a moment."<br /><br />Her stomach still in knots, she complies without protest. <br /><br />Isabeau and Bassianus examine the door labelled "Arbeitszimmer für Assistenten und Praktikanten" and find it locked. They are poking about in the lock with their tools when they hear Athalie shriek. They turn about just in time to see Athalie standing on her chair and the insect lunging at her from the floor, only to be met by Athalie's blade with a sickening crunch. It once again falls back to the ground, twitching and gurgling.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[It regenerated d12=7 up to 5 STR; Athalie made a DEX save to avoid Surprise, and hit it for 4 dmg to 1 STR; d20=14, crit.]</span><br /><br />"Heavens!" exclaims Isabeau. "I should have though of this before. What a silly goose I am!" She roots round in her pack and produces a flask of sulphuric acid, which she unstoppers and begins pouring over the insect in each spot that the regeneration begins. "I've been saving this for just such an occasion!"<br /><br />"That flask looks just like the one you keep your drinkies in," observes Bassianus.<br /><br />"Oh, <i>I</i> can tell the difference," says Isabeau, emptying the last of it over the chitin soup bubbling on the floor. <br /><br />"Just stay on her good side, my dear," says Athalie, "and you needn't worry."<br /><br />Bassianus has a go at the door and triumphantly announces he's picked the lock, then leads the way into the vast workroom <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Arbeitszimmer f. Assistenten u. Praktikanten</b>]</span>. Rows of desks and benches are arrayed in the centre and beneath the windows -- beyond which only shimmering energy can be seen. Bookcases line the interior wall.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[I rolled 2 dice for an encounter as it's a big, useful place: encounter = servant. 1d4=1]</span><br /><br />A servant is sweeping round the desks, <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=]</span>her white apron glowing purple with the eerie flashes of the energy field outside. She looks up as the explorers enter, and is just opening her mouth to say something when Bassianus snaps, "get back to work!" <span style="color: #800180;">[WIL save=2, it works!]</span> The startled maid lowers her eyes and goes back to her sweeping forthwith.<br /><br />The southeastern door leads out into another little retreat <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Retirade</b>]</span> smelling mostly of cigars, which leads out to a stairwell, mirroring the eastern half of the building. They file up the stairs to the first floor <span style="color: #800180;">[erster Stock]</span>, and proceed north through into <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Chemisches Arbeitzimmer</b>]</span> a chemical workroom with experiments bubbling away unattended on every workbench and counter.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCvFTNW_Mycn2V2wnG13bIFWrCYw0VdbMr2Uj7aXVIgp5CtoEeShoqfGIs35Oo8IpUViuLMKY1zMzDdGXtI0BTCeLZ-S-UUEob6vPemcuXoflsyzQXUzNbxPhacHBwda0CFN-UPHio5GeZ2gNKPg20TrUhVMIB0cGxGbz1wnaF00yfwMoS1xTMBsv2ww/s961/erster%20stock.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="572" data-original-width="961" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCvFTNW_Mycn2V2wnG13bIFWrCYw0VdbMr2Uj7aXVIgp5CtoEeShoqfGIs35Oo8IpUViuLMKY1zMzDdGXtI0BTCeLZ-S-UUEob6vPemcuXoflsyzQXUzNbxPhacHBwda0CFN-UPHio5GeZ2gNKPg20TrUhVMIB0cGxGbz1wnaF00yfwMoS1xTMBsv2ww/s600/erster%20stock.jpg"/></a></div>The explorers move through it with extreme caution. They find the door to the chemical laboratory locked. Athalie gets to work on the lock with a metal utensil borrowed from one of the tables. <span style="color: #800180;">[no encounters]</span><br /><br />"We'd really ought to buy proper lockpicks," observes Isabeau.<br /><br />Athalie mumbles something non-committal, absorbed in her task.<br /><br />When they have gained entrance, they find the chemical laboratory <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Chem. Laboratorium</b>]</span> to have been cleared of all furnishings. There is only a ghostly centipede floating in the middle of the chamber, undulating in a non-existent breeze. It darts immediately toward the intruders, shimmering with necrotic energy.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[automatic encounter: ghostly insect, fires death rays]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiiV3tsCymDp5OhMK6NcM_zjs0580bZq-hMcQuUqjV1Ys0LmZ3IPpb9PrjXS0kvoTNqBpqmt_wc3gewBaQBaQZP0Mf-xBJqh79FvgB0aRZiRjaLJwaNu9jB39C_9Z2T1ofhI-efHLPZ0U0mfVRslJs-L4TZWKMk2TV4fRZPEI7PkJFE6q47nY4qM8XWgc/s983/phasmatopede.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="600" data-original-height="364" data-original-width="983" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiiV3tsCymDp5OhMK6NcM_zjs0580bZq-hMcQuUqjV1Ys0LmZ3IPpb9PrjXS0kvoTNqBpqmt_wc3gewBaQBaQZP0Mf-xBJqh79FvgB0aRZiRjaLJwaNu9jB39C_9Z2T1ofhI-efHLPZ0U0mfVRslJs-L4TZWKMk2TV4fRZPEI7PkJFE6q47nY4qM8XWgc/s600/phasmatopede.jpg"/></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Phasmatopede<br />STR 9, DEX 10, WIL 12, 7 HP<br />Ghostly chitin (1 Armour)<br />Etherial Death Aura (d8 blast)</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br />They fall upon the creature with their weapons. Some blows swish straight through its semi-corporeal form, whilst others strike unyielding chitin. <span style="color: #800180;">[3+4+3-3(armour x3)=7 damage to 0hp]</span> <br /><br />Waves of unwholesome force flash out from the thing, eroding the psyche and abrading the nerves. <span style="color: #800180;">[A takes 1 to 9hp; I takes 8 to 1hp; B takes 5 to 4 STR, d20=2, no crit]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br />Bassianus has the worst of it, but still he fights on beside his comrades. The thing soon loses cohesion under their thrashings, and drifts to the floor, leaking long wisps of ectoplasm into the air.<br /><br />Another pull from their flasks is felt to be in order after the enervating effects of the creature's aura <span style="color: #800180;">[short rest, no encounter]</span>, then they examine the southerly doors...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is either one obviously more secure than the other? Unlikely (5+): O3 C1 - no, and...]</span><br /><br />...which prove to be entirely identical. Bassianus shrugs, and tries the eastern one, seemingly at random. <span style="color: #800180;">[1d2=this is the correct room]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9p6dkvrtXF0I3yxa15rdClULubCDtkvJe6sTb3DeKWAIE35LCkaWiTxpPvvyNp1L0RODAdGQ9g9zjsVFkP3GNK6tYjXovrf58P1ExhudRZiPZA6oENhzTeix6S4pgmbJ9PYdIAvNXhHK9V8xyRbnPVJqTxuQhOqOLfDV4e1JTg5_RHCdERHarrf7PJlI/s800/cozy%20study.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="549" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9p6dkvrtXF0I3yxa15rdClULubCDtkvJe6sTb3DeKWAIE35LCkaWiTxpPvvyNp1L0RODAdGQ9g9zjsVFkP3GNK6tYjXovrf58P1ExhudRZiPZA6oENhzTeix6S4pgmbJ9PYdIAvNXhHK9V8xyRbnPVJqTxuQhOqOLfDV4e1JTg5_RHCdERHarrf7PJlI/s600/cozy%20study.jpg"/></a></div>The room beyond <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Zimmer für Specialuntersuchungen</b> : room for special examinations]</span> appears to be a study or a smoking room, being decorated with tasteful paintings, wooden panelling, amply-stocked bookshelves, and first rate furniture, probably all antique. The only thing that is at all out of place is a pair of oversized bell-shaped iron helmets sitting upon the desk, connected at the top by a length of segmented brass tubing <span style="color: #800180;">[Major Arcanum, d20=Mind Probe]</span>. The explorers can practically feel the power emanating from the device. There can be no doubt but that this is the Arcanum they seek.<br /><br />They peer at it, unsure of how to proceed. Some vile trap is certain to protect the device. Guardian or not, it can't just be sitting on a desk in an unlocked room, now can it? They search for traps, and find none. Then they search again. Still nothing. So they have a third go.<br /><br />Athalie is afraid to touch it, so uses her sword to nudge it gently off the desk. One helmet tumbles onto the plush carpet with a dull thud. Despite the tubing, the second takes a little more prodding to push off after it, as they're both rather heavy <span style="color: #800180;">[counts as a Bulky item]</span>. The explorers stand over the helmets, staring down at them suspiciously. <br /><br />"I-- I thinks it's safe to..." begins Isabeau. But the others call her bluff by not contradicting her, so that she feels compelled to go through with it and collect the item from the floor, lifting it by the connecting tube using her clockwork hand, lest the metal touch her skin.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is it trapped? certain (2+): O1 C9 - no]</span><br /><br />Nothing untoward transpires, so after they all laugh at their own paranoia, they begin to quickly and quietly (they hope!) retrace their steps. <span style="color: #800180;">[1 encounter check per room traversed: 3,6,1 : minor personage]</span><br /><br />As they reach the stairs, a creature of singular aspect is coming down from above them. It is the size of a sturdily-built man, and clad in an outmoded fashion, but its terrible head draws all eyes in as surely as it repulses the onlookers. It resembles nothing so much as the fossilised skull of a an extinct elephant. Great, downward-curving tusks protrude from the lower jaw, with its rows of exposed teeth. Empty eye sockets regard the explorers with brutish contempt. So arresting is the awful visage that one might nearly overlook the vice-like claws it has in place of hands. The thing stops short when it finds others on the stairs, and appears to be waiting for something.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPN4dRBIx2fQpvB8EW8nTLnGKI8B_KwaP_TTyJRNsnbof-fEK6579_vXAsqq8qUVW5O7_fhhUAZ7j72CfKN5MdLWyxMZ2Ncaaxne_zFYpiHc4sqUrgOxlLCM76d9PVp0wnXEknh3QaGn-jzVGWQBLUWwDyBzGRIfJlEFUct2G03VmcAaDLL_8EogAMuZA/s750/grank.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPN4dRBIx2fQpvB8EW8nTLnGKI8B_KwaP_TTyJRNsnbof-fEK6579_vXAsqq8qUVW5O7_fhhUAZ7j72CfKN5MdLWyxMZ2Ncaaxne_zFYpiHc4sqUrgOxlLCM76d9PVp0wnXEknh3QaGn-jzVGWQBLUWwDyBzGRIfJlEFUct2G03VmcAaDLL_8EogAMuZA/s400/grank.jpg"/></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Grank<br />STR 18, DEX 7, WIL 4, 12 HP<br />Vice-claws (d10, critical damage destroys a random limb)<br />Driven to carry out his master's orders, whilst grousing about it the whole time. Uninterested in anything else, unless he can complain about it delaying him.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: What's Grank doing? <span style="font-family: georgia;">dissipate the inward Darkness</span>]</span><br /><br />A steady stream of grumping and grousing issues from the cavernous maw. "'Go down to the cellar, Grank', they said. 'You're not too busy with all your other chores. Must make sure no one's left the gaslights on again.' Always leaving something going round here. If it's not the gaslights it's the chemical experiments. Can't ever finish a thing properly, not when they have old Grank to do it for them. Wastrels and layabouts, the lot of 'em. 'Fetch me my slippers, Grank. They're all the way across the room. You've certainly nothing better to be doing. And don't forget to polish the silver. And count it, Grank. The other servants aren't to be trusted.' It's not the servants stealing here, not that the masters want to hear it! Not that they'd listen to old Grank even if..."<br /><br />The creature's monologue shows no signs of abating, so the bemused explorers rush down he stairs ahead of it, hoping it doesn't notice what Isabeau is carrying.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[d6=4,4,3,3,5,6,3 - no further encounters (roll of 1), or nearby footsteps/voices (2)]</span><br /><br />They come back to Ilmen Regal's retreat <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Retirade</b>]</span> without so much as hearing the footsteps of another being.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: How does he react when he sees the arcanum? <span style="font-family: georgia;">exemplary Conversation</span>]</span><br /><br />They are trepidatious about their reception, but Ilmen is on his best behaviour -- possibly having been threatened by Zurzoria. He ushers them politely into his retreat and offers them wine and cheap cigars (they accept both) then launches into a long and desultory tale of how he came by the Mind Probe. <span style="color: #800180;">[knowing - report - history]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does anyone die of boredom before Zurzoria returns? Unlikely (5+): O3 C2 - no, and...]</span><br /><br />It turns out that once he gets started, Ilmen can weave quite the tale. But I should not relay his words to you, dear reader, for fear his marvellous eloquence would too greatly overshadow my own.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does Zurzoria come back before anything else happens? unknown d6=6; O6 C5 - yes<br />The Doubtful (6) odds imply she almost didn't, so what is going on? <span style="font-family: georgia;">Emanations of Splendor</span>]</span><br /><br />He is about to begin an excursus on the known history of the Probe when a breathless Zurzoria bursts in.<br /><br />"The Star Being... has... broken free!" she gasps. "Those... fools thought they... could control it!"<br /><br /><br /><i>next post: cosmic terror</i><br /><br />Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-82369494624280753792023-10-07T10:37:00.004+01:002023-10-07T10:37:47.055+01:00ItO solo - Part IX : The borough council's redoubt<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_QjDWdmWANKzh1_mMxvsaI7PDFHqUfnvjM0ZNICctkOAKVWtu6BMk-yumU_K01slMjZRR6qKr6iE5EmQIZ21CC_i2eCqv7NTqsB75OjDB264xry9Bg3q3qy4-wcNN5IoWhHeKtvQmzHrZobrYJVonCCz7uKbUxBWkv4xcZEuBUrUAfgF3fRWczQ2s54/s740/stairs_up.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="740" data-original-width="550" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi_QjDWdmWANKzh1_mMxvsaI7PDFHqUfnvjM0ZNICctkOAKVWtu6BMk-yumU_K01slMjZRR6qKr6iE5EmQIZ21CC_i2eCqv7NTqsB75OjDB264xry9Bg3q3qy4-wcNN5IoWhHeKtvQmzHrZobrYJVonCCz7uKbUxBWkv4xcZEuBUrUAfgF3fRWczQ2s54/s600/stairs_up.jpg" /></a></div>At last! after an absolute age of attacking the venerable masonry with the pickaxe, a human-sized gap in the wall has been opened up. Beyond is a cramped stairwell, dusty from decades of disuse. Mortine thinks parading a pig through the secret council chambers is likely to offend -- more so than their invasion, in fact -- so she ties Chatterton to the bannister before they ascend to the basement level. <br /><br />A dingy landing with passages to either side greets them. There's no dust on the concrete floor, but the unfinished walls are in need of a clean.<br /><br />"So," says Athalie, "which way from here?"<br /><br />"Your guess is as good as mine," says Bassianus.<br /><br />"Haven't you got the map?"<br /><br />"No! I only stole the bottom level, so we'd know how to get in."<br /><br />"Why didn't you steal the rest?"<br /><br />"It had nothing to tell us of the current situation. Besides, I was afraid the librarians would hear if I tore out another page."<br /><br />"He's right, my dear," says Isabeau. "Let's go this way. And we'd probably ought to sheathe our weapons until we know what's going on."<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 6<br /><br />Chaos: </b>average (d10)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> explore the council building<br /><br /><b>NPC List: </b>the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain, scribe, Mortine, Tail<br /><br /><b>Threads:</b> investigate location<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Maps are of the Pathologische Institut of the Königliche Friedrichs-Wilhelms Universität in Berlin, from the BL's copy of <a href="https://access.bl.uk/item/viewer/ark:/81055/vdc_0000000102C6#?cv=308&c=0&m=0&s=0&xywh=-1708%2C0%2C5295%2C2812" target="_blank">Die naturwissenschaftlichen und medicinischen Staatsanstalten Berlins (link)</a> -- it's full of good hospital & university maps! The rooms are labelled, and are perfectly weird enough to suit the mysterious machinations of the borough council.<br /><br />I looked over the maps once (in the process of choosing them) so I had a vague idea of the layout, which handily represents the fruits of Bassianus' research. Unfortunately, he only stole the plate with the sub-basement plan on it, so I covered the map with a solid opaque layer in GIMP and erased as the PCs explored.<br /><br />Each room has a 1-in-6 chance of an encounter and a 1-in-8 chance of a useful/interesting/important item beyond what would obviously be in the room based on its function.]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier;">d10 Encounter Item<br />--- --------- ----<br />1-3 servant useful<br />4-6 minor personage dangerous<br />7-8 weird thing spoils<br />9-0 major personage trap</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOAAvJPsX5zmWXJig2MQ1rLMutsjcu0jUA6azhdA3QK0SSAFdcSfT-0n9YDSNoiKkFwGBqILenqQzK22IG9wrUCtwrCj0Lvf5MR3GjjG8xUOgzT39uiNFKmy1etDEwJuiywM6Sp9MeQICb1IST7IwfzEtFwH1LY9qNqXdwFUlJ_g3kIsAqwMBT-HQSu0/s931/kellergeschoss.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="931" height="488" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEOAAvJPsX5zmWXJig2MQ1rLMutsjcu0jUA6azhdA3QK0SSAFdcSfT-0n9YDSNoiKkFwGBqILenqQzK22IG9wrUCtwrCj0Lvf5MR3GjjG8xUOgzT39uiNFKmy1etDEwJuiywM6Sp9MeQICb1IST7IwfzEtFwH1LY9qNqXdwFUlJ_g3kIsAqwMBT-HQSu0/w640-h488/kellergeschoss.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Isabeau turns left (east, or thereabouts) down a cramped, odd-shaped corridor with alcoves set at odd heights in the wall. It opens into a small, dank chamber. The adjoining room contains shelf upon shelf of anatomist's tools <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Utensilien</b>]</span>. Many of the tools are rusty with neglect, but on one of the shelves they appear to be clean and serviceable. None of the explorers are particularly in need of a new bone saw -- at least, not that any of them will admit! -- so after a cursory examination, they decide to press onwards.<br /><br />They continue through to a larger open space with a low vaulted ceiling. All about are stacks of elongated wooden crates. No -- make that coffins <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Sarge</b>]</span>. The room is cold enough, as basements go, but the odour wafting through the space tells the explorers that not all of the coffins are without inmates.<br /><br />A family-sized jar of Dr. Whizzo's Instant Coagulatory Ointment sits unattended atop on of the coffins <span style="color: #800180;">[dangerous item: <span style="font-family: georgia;">bleed Balm</span>]</span>. Bassianus decides to pocket it, as several advertisements he read in a Paper of Record have convinced him of its wondrous efficacy. He doesn't believe the wild stories of mutations and death he's read about it in the more sensationalist newspapers. Or has he mixed up what he read where?<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnrUg0NJUKoWPpVsVjRbhko0BLIawvKW-ZHCgBZiJghfc6aBud7zhykzsUb9-Vku3Q2NhVtKXQVxfTEuTL8BsK1M4koAKTVe_T9a3R3q0MbXWqmJ7fLZ4r48bYvXXvkxRC86Z-LdJTd5B3WqUBlFASK2Egc5S1xmqwSRysJWXjSpIG_8jDfX4_uFXxug/s966/whizzo.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="776" data-original-width="966" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnrUg0NJUKoWPpVsVjRbhko0BLIawvKW-ZHCgBZiJghfc6aBud7zhykzsUb9-Vku3Q2NhVtKXQVxfTEuTL8BsK1M4koAKTVe_T9a3R3q0MbXWqmJ7fLZ4r48bYvXXvkxRC86Z-LdJTd5B3WqUBlFASK2Egc5S1xmqwSRysJWXjSpIG_8jDfX4_uFXxug/s600/whizzo.jpg" width="600" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Dr. Whizzo's Instant Coagulatory Ointment: heals (or damages) STR by +d12-d12. number of points healed/inflicted x5% is chance of mutation</span><br /><br /><br /><div>No one chances a peek under any of the coffin lids. They file silently through and then proceed (north) into another vaulted chamber, no doubt intended for more coffin storage. A leafy smell wafts in from the doorway to the north. Within the chamber the smell is more pronounced and joined with a sharp underlying chemical odour. <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Experimentalthiere</b> - experimental animals: automatic encounter (random picture)]</span> Along the far wall is a tree-like structure cobbled together from wooden beams. At its base is a pile of organic detritus. <span style="color: #800180;">[2d3=]</span> Three giant silkworms are crawling lazily over the structure. They drop to the ground when disturbed by the explorers' entrance, and scuttle towards them, grotesque mouths chomping in anticipation.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixdsWaV5juZdUFfQMVj02xsbgP3ltgGJYeWqzpqEsAT99CYg3ySHWGS-PI0WFgxOJrTZ34wfo1nD8eO100MRcaWWtsdLefq27XbHpcFBMzhBMrTtqwuCmsrSRSngheVy_44-u-Y382uH9czSUqf2B5JvqGI7G4L9C4Uu8J9GswNSsexd-uUikCi4aaKHQ/s720/silkworm.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="574" data-original-width="720" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixdsWaV5juZdUFfQMVj02xsbgP3ltgGJYeWqzpqEsAT99CYg3ySHWGS-PI0WFgxOJrTZ34wfo1nD8eO100MRcaWWtsdLefq27XbHpcFBMzhBMrTtqwuCmsrSRSngheVy_44-u-Y382uH9czSUqf2B5JvqGI7G4L9C4Uu8J9GswNSsexd-uUikCi4aaKHQ/s600/silkworm.jpg" width="600" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">giant silkworm<br />5hp<br />bite (d6 + disease on Critical damage: blood slowly turns to silk threads, no STR regeneration from long rests, fatal in d4 weeks)<br /></span><br />The explorers draw their hand weapons (as no one wants to attract undue attention with firearms) and prepare to do battle.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[round 1]</span><br />Athalie and Bassianus square off against single opponents, whilst Mortine fights alongside (and sightly behind) Isabeau. The things leak a watery fluid when injured, but are undeterred by blows from axe and sword. Mortine lays one out with a crowbar to the top of the head, but is mildly unnerved by the crunching sound <span style="color: #800180;">[it took Critical damage]</span>.<br /><br />Athalie evades the snapping jaws of her foe <span style="color: #800180;">[4 damage to 6hp]</span> but Bassianus' clamps down on his arm. He feels a burning sensation followed by a heaviness in his limb as venom glands inject some sort of toxin, then his vision blurs and he slips to the floor in a daze. <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage to 0hp, 5 STR; d20=14, crit.]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[round 2]</span><br />Athalie runs hers through with her sword. It twitches and then collapses into a ball <span style="color: #800180;">[Critical Damage]</span>. Isabeau and Mortine rush to save Bassianus. Their blows dislodge the creature from his arm, but so worried were they about hitting their friend that their attacks merely annoy the creature. <span style="color: #800180;">[1+2 damage, down to 8 STR; d20=1, no crit.]</span><br /><br />But it turns said annoyance upon Mortine! The thing chomps down on her leg, and she too is overcome by dizziness, swooning at Isabeau's feet. <span style="color: #800180;">[6 damage to 0hp, 3 STR; d20=crit]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[round 3]</span><br />Isabeau and Athalie skewer the creature from both sides in response. It moves no longer.<br /><br />They must rouse their friends with a nip of the cheap stuff. Once they've collected themselves and decided that the poison is not an immediately problem <span style="color: #800180;">[short rest, d6=no rand encounter, hp to full]</span> they continue on their way.<br /><br />The only other door leads east, so they pass through it to a laboratory full of glass apparatus on every conceivable surface <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>bakteriologische Untersuchung</b> - bacteriological study]</span>. Some of the phials, beakers, and assorted tubes are filled with still liquids, others bubble and froth of their own volition, and at least one is phosphorescing in the shadowy corner. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is it super dangerous? likely (3+): O3 C7 - yes<br />Q: How? <span style="font-family: georgia;">Business of Navigation</span> - DEX save required to cross room without knocking something over]</span><br /><br />The glass vessels are all interconnected by a series of slender tubes, forming a complex network round the whole of the lab. <br /><br />"I don't think crossing that would be a good idea," mutters Isabeau.<br /><br />"I believe you've read my thoughts, dear heart," says Athalie.<br /><br />"Shall we retrace our steps?" asks Bassianus.<br /><br />"Let's do!" says a relieved Mortine.<br /><br />They retreat past the dead silkworms into the coffin storage overflow area <span style="color: #800180;">[no encounters]</span>, then take a passage east to a small anteroom, which contains nothing but a door leading back into the laboratory, so are then forced to retreat again and try the other eastern passage. This leads to the bottom of a stairwell, where a sign points to a lift <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Fahrstuhl</b>]</span> nearby.<br /><br />They climb the stairs and find a door at the top. There's a short corridor beyond with the gaslights on low. The lift is opposite, and doors lead north and south. A threadbare green carpet of a design that was fashionable when our heroes were much younger attests to the occupation of this part of the council fortress.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQZxzQZRFOASa-x2hQ9rt2pkM93fVmxYPq0MDIwBgJ_T29MY4co90lHrJTJEFyv9cJDb0vF92rwwfOptYWZLol-n3-YFkThTSNY0z6gPXkR8My_8c9Nm2WIbnEWr6KP5pdRbkw1fDeU-ftgeyWfoHl7_uEBAGbixB0DBSyXmaQYBV82UxKZ6g87zxzc4/s1522/erdgeschoss.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="875" data-original-width="1522" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTQZxzQZRFOASa-x2hQ9rt2pkM93fVmxYPq0MDIwBgJ_T29MY4co90lHrJTJEFyv9cJDb0vF92rwwfOptYWZLol-n3-YFkThTSNY0z6gPXkR8My_8c9Nm2WIbnEWr6KP5pdRbkw1fDeU-ftgeyWfoHl7_uEBAGbixB0DBSyXmaQYBV82UxKZ6g87zxzc4/w640-h368/erdgeschoss.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>"Let's see if we can find someone to tell us what's going on," whispers Athalie.<br /><br />"We'd best douse the lantern," murmurs Isabeau.<br /><br />"I'm sure our eyes will adjust," mumbles Bassianus.<br /><br />"Do we put away our weapons?" asks Mortine sotto voce.<br /><br />"Probably," says Athalie (sc. quietly). "But be ready to use them."<br /><br />The floorboards groan underfoot. Athalie cracks open the northern door. "Halloooo," she calls in a particularly small voice. "It doesn't seem anyone has heard. Perhaps we should continue our explorations."<br /><br />Opening the door further causes the mingled smells of camphor and decay to waft over the explorers. The room beyond <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Sectiossaal</b> - Dissection Room]</span> is only lit from the corridor. Dissection tables are arranged in two neat rows. On one lies a monstrous corpse, its chest open and the flesh pinned back, with all its organs laid out on an adjoining table.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: But is it dead yet? 50/50 (4+): O4 C3 - no, but... soon will be]</span><br /><br />The thing strains against its bonds at the sound of the door opening, and a raspy voice issues from its distended maw.<br /><br />"Come back to finish the job, have we? Have at, you foul fiends; do your worst!"<br /><br />"It's still alive!" gasps Mortine.<br /><br />"Oh! Begging your pardon, I though you were Doctor Butcher and <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=]</span>her cronies come back to continued their dashed experiments. Say, you couldn't see fit to unshackle me from this table, could you? I'd be ever so grateful, and of course, should you, some time down the line, find yourselves in a spot of bother..." <span style="color: #800180;">[UNE: friendly - gratitude - future action]</span><br /><br />"I don't like the looks of this place," whimpers Mortine.<br /><br />"Nor I," answers Athalie. "Let's see what we can do."<br /><br />The chains binding the monster are solid, but the padlocks securing them are enormous and old. It is but a few minutes work to poke about the locks' insides with a scalpel before the fetters are loosened and the thing is freed. <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=3, no random encounter]</span> As Athalie works and a sheepish Mortine guards the door, the Thing chats away pleasantly, relating the tale of its capture and mutation with extra-stellar matter, and the experiments which followed. It remembers little of its former life in bastion, but its name, <span style="color: #800180;">[d100=]</span> Katsun Offenpot, is engraved on a golden key fob amongst the Thing's effects discarded in a bin. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sYGjchqrzPQXDLegcqHcwjgOobW7dRsTxI_z5VMzqSnb3HNcENnSoPBEIvVYJ_s-zCmkY7yAvYdOdvFkAjDMktIsOHdTUa1OrTHCxurh2yBDOyXnRA68tY4Oxp14lB-8iKjMO5Se6S2HzFKOAh-mfEDMG27MUMbzygkk2CwkqLPvs7oENzOoKflhbxE/s764/THING.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="764" data-original-width="550" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sYGjchqrzPQXDLegcqHcwjgOobW7dRsTxI_z5VMzqSnb3HNcENnSoPBEIvVYJ_s-zCmkY7yAvYdOdvFkAjDMktIsOHdTUa1OrTHCxurh2yBDOyXnRA68tY4Oxp14lB-8iKjMO5Se6S2HzFKOAh-mfEDMG27MUMbzygkk2CwkqLPvs7oENzOoKflhbxE/s600/THING.jpg" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;">[cast of 1000s tables: gunsmith, unreliable genius<br /><br />surviving PCs will be gifted high quality guns - with additional powers and disadvantages (but they won't be ready for at least 2 more adventures as I forgot to make a note of this at the end of my .txt file like I usually do.)<br /><br />Q: Have the PCs heard of him? O6 C3 - yes, but... only d4=M]</span><br /><br />"Oh!" interrupts Mortine as Bassianus reads the creature's (former) name aloud, "I used to work in a perfumery just a few doors down from your shop. They say you made the cleverest sorts of rifles. And there was that little buckler with a pistol built into it sitting in your shop window. How I always used to admire it, every time I passed."<br /><br />"I shall make you a present of it," says the Creature, "if I survive this ordeal."<br /><br />They help the Thing collect up its organs, shoving them back in the body cavity and wrapping it round tightly with bandages. They show it the stairwell and outline the escape route through basement, then give it a spare lantern and watch it lumber off on its way.<br /><br />Closing the stairwell door quietly, they pass by the lift <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Fahrstuhl</b>]</span>, and go into <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Saal für klinische Sectionen </b>- clinical dissection hall]</span> a larger dissection room. In contrast to where they'd met the poor experiment, this one has better lighting, seems much cleaner, and smells strongly of bleach; it is overall less dungeon-y feeling. The rows of tables are neat and spotless. But lest our company forget what sort of place this is, there is a long self full of specimen jars, with unidentifiable beings and parts of beings leering out of the formaldehyde.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[random item = trap : <span style="font-family: georgia;">Sharpness of Death</span>]</span><br /><br />There is a door to the north, upon which is a brass placard, written in foreign. <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Chirurgische Operationscurse und Section durch Examinanden </b>- surgical operation courses & dissections tests]</span> Below it hangs a hand-written notice reading 'Strictly No Admittance!!!'. Above the door is a pendulum-blade attached to a heavy iron mechanism. <br /><br />"Do we dare...?" asks Bassianus.<br /><br />"I might have an idea!" says Mortine. "Isabeau, darling, lift me up so I can reach."<br /><br />She produces a glue pot from her pack. Isabeau bends down, then Mortine hikes up her skirts so she can sit on Isabeau's shoulders. Isabeau stands and holds as still as she is able <span style="color: #800180;">[STR save succeeds]</span> whilst Mortine coats the mechanism with glue.<br /><br />Then they have to wait... and wait... and wait... <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=no encounter]</span><br /><br />"It should be set now," she says at last.<br /><br />The others look on in silence.<br /><br />"Oh, very well!" <br /><br />Mortine turns the doorknob. There is an audible click from within, but, <span style="color: #800180;">[DEX save to have done it right: d20=3, ok]</span> fortunately, the glue holds the mechanism fast.<br /><br />"See? nothing to fear."<br /><br />Mortine opens the door, revealing a white-hot radiance within. She receives the full blast of its fury and is gone. The others throw the door shut in haste. Nothing remains of Mortine but a heavy whitish powder on the floor.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Why was it locked? <span style="font-family: georgia;">The vengeful Flames</span><br /><br />The Star-essence of which the Thing spoke is stored here. Mortine took d12 damage to 1d3=STR. d12=8 reducing her STR to -5.]</span><br /><br />After a short rest to (variously) wipe the tears from their eyes / have a drink in Mortine's memory / say Kaddish, they file silently through the southwestern door into an empty hallway. <span style="color: #800180;">[Short Rest, d6=no encounters]</span> From there a door leads south to a stairwell with a door opposite <span style="color: #800180;">[west]</span> and a passage running beneath.<br /><br />The little passage leads immediately to a small, cosy chamber <span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Retirade</b> - retreat]</span>, smelling of dusty books and old tobacco. The lighting is dim, and barely penetrates the smoke suffusing the air.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[50/50 chance of encounter here: minor personage, which I rolled up on the Cast of 1000s tables in the Oddpendium, including their relationship to the council heretic/villain]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK8Bb6E-ZofD99lGyKBDoEqkJ3UjDEf2GGuH06LagSZTlqGZdgo-k4zENWqYQfIxCTUY24ByTNrVESfCxOb0l6OVHYMF8Gf0jui22PYKsXJgcqE_tJcR0lpSTV66-UppMrNb97fa35nkRf3enL_z2LfnuEk22qIDXjbm2ltjOvisAHcO1P7uzFCs6JqgU/s999/ilmen.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="999" data-original-width="442" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK8Bb6E-ZofD99lGyKBDoEqkJ3UjDEf2GGuH06LagSZTlqGZdgo-k4zENWqYQfIxCTUY24ByTNrVESfCxOb0l6OVHYMF8Gf0jui22PYKsXJgcqE_tJcR0lpSTV66-UppMrNb97fa35nkRf3enL_z2LfnuEk22qIDXjbm2ltjOvisAHcO1P7uzFCs6JqgU/s600/ilmen.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Ilmen Regal<br />-Tax collector, wedded into career<br />-powdered wig<br />-rival of villain<br />-found a major arcanum</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[reaction roll=19, fail]</span><br /><br />And old man in out-of-date fashion and a powdered wig appears out of the gloom, brandishing a pistol.<br /><br />"Intruders! get back, or I'll use this!"<br /><br />Athalie tries to plead with him, but he won't have it. She finds herself staring cross-eyed down the pistol's barrel, scarcely a finger's breadth away from her nose.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does he take the shot? 50/50 (4+): O2 C7 - no]</span><br /><br />She backs away slowly, as do her companions. They file silently up onto the stairs, out of sight.<br /><br />"Let's wait to see what he does," whispers Athalie. Isabeau nervously draws her own pistol.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[encounter check whilst they wait: d6=1, encounter = major personage<br /><br />Q: Is it the Villain? unlikely (5+): O4 C8 - no]</span><br /><br />They stand guard some breathless minutes, all eyes and weapons trained at the bottom of the stairs. But it is soft footsteps and the rustle of crinoline above them that breaks the silence.<br /><br /><br /><i>next post: a lady of rank</i><br /><br /></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-26727467473988744562023-09-25T21:34:00.001+01:002023-09-25T21:34:13.827+01:00ItO solo - Part VIII : The streets beneath<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwi--phJMMfVzGch6fljCTDIfbjvTRmAksIVHL9F7iCatPRvq-rethD9fW1uNQLIMJCtWlIV_akJwnu5ur6pFVqHhnXGSmiYGqb5hpnstp912W38_F9qX844913gjWhmzxSQT2Rw_ZdnqrfO1Z3tF5TQdt572eFRGZID7RncfiPGHuqMGmvH2H3Vr8F6Y/s930/subterranean_street.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="884" data-original-width="930" height="608" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwi--phJMMfVzGch6fljCTDIfbjvTRmAksIVHL9F7iCatPRvq-rethD9fW1uNQLIMJCtWlIV_akJwnu5ur6pFVqHhnXGSmiYGqb5hpnstp912W38_F9qX844913gjWhmzxSQT2Rw_ZdnqrfO1Z3tF5TQdt572eFRGZID7RncfiPGHuqMGmvH2H3Vr8F6Y/w640-h608/subterranean_street.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>An uneven slope leads up to a wide passage paved with cobblestones -- an ancient, sunken street. On either side are the decaying façades of shops and town houses, some completely filled with rubble, others offering cramped passages through their heaps of fallen stones and shattered timbers. The sky above is a mixture of bare rock, compressed soil, and the newer foundations of the City above. "According to the book I read," says Athalie, "this borough was built on the ruins of a prior settlement, whose inhabitants were slaughtered and eaten by Bastionites of ages past."<br /><br />"Did it mention why it smells worse down here than the sewer?" asks Bassianus.<br /><br />"I can't smell a thing," says Mortine. "the cold and damp are making my nose run."<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T1 : random - none - expected<br />Location: Peaceful, Abandoned</b><br /><br />The street ends abruptly, as ancient collapse renders it impassable. The explorers proceed through one of the buildings, evidently an old dwelling place. Rotten furnishings sag with age and damp, melting into carpets of fungus and slime. A hole in the back wall of a dank sitting room leads to...<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T2 : expected - random - none<br />Encounter: sapient & armoured, cube, heat/melt matter<br /></b><br />...a long straight path, 8' high and wide, and running off into the distance. The walls have been melted and scorched, but completely smoothed. The explorers take the path as far as they dare, until the temperature begins to rise and a smell of charred wood and stone reaches their nostrils. They look down a side passage to see a pulsing cube of white-hot metal slowly inching forward through rubble and stone. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI4EQ5rjyac61eUmOijJErtKKU2q5mbZ32jB5jFD1eVa0nN7Pgd6odGV11w3dTWIbpHD56AGsbogPbsQWMHSUdBCHpPN48Z3-wOvxbIESkL04Ca4T2iTUG4HyBhuMu5ufgUfJ6Sc-6ZAzzfm3-EihZK2YwhepVhQ8eSg_I2aw1o0AzfLY8H0Taig92pr4/s1600/cube.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="401" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI4EQ5rjyac61eUmOijJErtKKU2q5mbZ32jB5jFD1eVa0nN7Pgd6odGV11w3dTWIbpHD56AGsbogPbsQWMHSUdBCHpPN48Z3-wOvxbIESkL04Ca4T2iTUG4HyBhuMu5ufgUfJ6Sc-6ZAzzfm3-EihZK2YwhepVhQ8eSg_I2aw1o0AzfLY8H0Taig92pr4/s1600/cube.jpg" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Has it cut off their route? 50/50 (4+): O1 C3 - no, but... it currently blocks the path]</span><br /><br />They cover the lantern and creep back a short distance down the square path to wait until they are sure the thing is well away. <span style="color: #800180;">[2 encounter checks d6=4, nothing; d6=2, hear something nearby]</span><br /><br />They wait for what seems a geological age, alone in the dark. Grating voices are heard echoing down one of the side passages. They come closer, then fade as the explorers let out their collectively held breath. When they surmise that the burning cube has advanced far enough down its new passage, they feel emboldened to pad hurriedly past the junction and scurry off on their way.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[For future reference--<br />Q: What is its motivation? <span style="font-family: georgia;">final Perseverance</span> = it just wants to get on with its work, so not dangerous unless prevented/provoked. It probably would have given them directions, had they asked...]</span><br /><br />The passage leads them into a decaying town house.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T3 : expected - none - none</b><br /><br />They leave the square passage, and clamber through damp chambers with exposed brickwork and puddles of brackish water. The exit one through a doorway (which seems novel, as they are mostly squeezing through gaps in the walls) onto a balcony overlooking a lower entrance. The once grand stairs have broken away and lie in a heap below, but the walkway seems solid.<br /><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #d9d2e9;"><b>T4 : expected - expected - expected<br /></b></span><br />The door at the end of the balcony leads to a long gallery. Marble busts, unrecognisable beneath fungal growth, rest on evenly-spaced marble plinths along one wall. The chequered floor is coated in slime. The explorers progress slowly to avoid slipping.<br /><br />At the end a doorway opens onto a stone staircase, cracked with age and subsidence, but otherwise intact. They follow it down, down, down...<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCITXBLl4cE6cxUBmbTppbUCNS9HkSvBoDHsUUxG1GPDG2SsNEKzlSldyqEBq-C8DJ208Q3F1A9Fc-b4JuRgGXf41IaqwhkAeTvOL5-40F4iVx7E-P9emvlOGKya_nnepFKrC2odzCP4us5rxyC-QvQvajkDD6MOTMVE3vLxFvqev9RjLgIh_IAPbdog4/s800/staircase.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="566" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCITXBLl4cE6cxUBmbTppbUCNS9HkSvBoDHsUUxG1GPDG2SsNEKzlSldyqEBq-C8DJ208Q3F1A9Fc-b4JuRgGXf41IaqwhkAeTvOL5-40F4iVx7E-P9emvlOGKya_nnepFKrC2odzCP4us5rxyC-QvQvajkDD6MOTMVE3vLxFvqev9RjLgIh_IAPbdog4/w453-h640/staircase.jpg" width="453" /></a></div><span style="background-color: #d9d2e9;"><b>T5 : known - random - random<br />encounter: shadow cloaked, sees future<br />random item: d%=audacious painting<br /></b></span><br />...into an old vault. A heavy iron door still resists time and decay, but breaches in both side walls allow easy passage. The sole item left in the vault is an overlarge painting in a cheaply-gilded frame. It depicts a forest scene, with nude women reclining on the grass and playing in the sunlight, accompanied by a single clothed gentleman.<br /><br />Bassianus spots the title on the brass plaque at the bottom of the frame. "ITAL Plein air, that doesn't say much."<br /><br />"Hm," says Mortine. "It's signed Claude Lantier. Never heard of him. Do you suppose it's valuable?"<br /><br />"It's far too big to carry out of here on speculation," says Athalie. "Plus it'd never fit in my flat."<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr2iDFDQT_tRMgBhpLWQwQTkUqFdwSnNP0zJdkoW0bd0OeY4uwLnXJG9TX4kgwUtXn3QN4kwtUfjKY5bk6_nse20dqNjqBUsivY6fFX8ZhAsFFsj0a7lYVDGHumy9cC8wigjERFimM44YkYJxHZCzsMyMGW6nibVGSWkX8OCgFHmjX1qe0bbxvPQg-3co/s687/clutching%20oracle.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="687" data-original-width="676" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr2iDFDQT_tRMgBhpLWQwQTkUqFdwSnNP0zJdkoW0bd0OeY4uwLnXJG9TX4kgwUtXn3QN4kwtUfjKY5bk6_nse20dqNjqBUsivY6fFX8ZhAsFFsj0a7lYVDGHumy9cC8wigjERFimM44YkYJxHZCzsMyMGW6nibVGSWkX8OCgFHmjX1qe0bbxvPQg-3co/w394-h400/clutching%20oracle.jpg" width="394" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Clutching Oracle<br />STR 14, 5 hp, 2 armour<br />Step from the shadows: Automatically surprises everyone but intended target (who gets normal DEX save)<br />Prophetic clutches: grab character and project visions of future defeats into their mind: WIL save allows 1 future re-roll of any die affecting character, failed save inflicts d6 WIL damage<br />Cowardly: flees if damaged (hp depleted)</span><br /><br />Whilst they are considering the work by lantern light, a hunched, cloaked figure emerges from a shadowy hole in the wall and grabs <span style="color: #800180;">[1d5=]</span>Athalie by the wrist. She instinctively responds with a blow from her sword. The blade bites into the creature's shoulder, and wisps of smoke come from the bloodless wound. But the creature is affrighted, and disappears back the way it came. Isabeau shines her lantern into the crack, only to find it empty.<br /><br />"I may not know much about art," says Bassianus, "but I know when to stop looking at it in case there are more monsters lurking about."<br /><br />They hurry through the breach in the wall, leaving the painting for braver or more discerning explorers.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Athalie (only) got a DEX save to avoid Surprise: d20=5, ok. She hit it for 6 damage, so it fled before its special ability had a chance to work.]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ctN70h2oAeky2BM5VlpKaRyzjWCoFU1P3wRhMdbHz1A0WKhsYUhixcilKwDv0O6fpMCI5D2BflZtoJJkhPrsB1P3DjciQSEsCxo0cpj6mRt8zF9U6EyAlr8goqRAj4df2lNSO1_2QmQ9j1yC5F2rU2ZlR4k0XcjI-zSfRw9Wl-FDlSRlo5ZA_xDIu-k/s798/vault.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="798" height="602" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ctN70h2oAeky2BM5VlpKaRyzjWCoFU1P3wRhMdbHz1A0WKhsYUhixcilKwDv0O6fpMCI5D2BflZtoJJkhPrsB1P3DjciQSEsCxo0cpj6mRt8zF9U6EyAlr8goqRAj4df2lNSO1_2QmQ9j1yC5F2rU2ZlR4k0XcjI-zSfRw9Wl-FDlSRlo5ZA_xDIu-k/w640-h602/vault.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T6 : known - special - random<br />Special: barely there (expected)<br />random=Watery, Fuel</b><br /><br />The breach leads into the basement of the next building over, with another hole leading out to a long, sunken street. It is mostly clear of detritus, save for the skeletal remains of prior explorers, picked clean of flesh and useful items. Or almost clean; <span style="color: #800180;">[d4=]</span> Mortine spots an intact glass flask amongst the jumbled phalanges of a headless array of bones. The label is still legible: fire oil. She uncorks the flask and hazards a sniff -- it still smells potent.<br /><br />"May I keep this?" she asks.<br /><br />"You found it, my dear," says Isabeau. "It's yours by right."<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T7 : random - expected - expected (PP-6)<br />Location: Creepy, Majestic<br /></b><br />They proceed along the street to an old theatre. The screech of the entrance door on rusting hinges causes a flurry of activity, as a pack of blind, featherless, and flightless pigeons scurry in all directions. Their white, cadaverous hides are pockmarked with disease, and they move like the man in the sphinx's riddle: on two legs, three, or four.<br /><br />The carpet in the entry hall has been reduced to a soup of swampy fungal matter, which our nauseated heroes must traverse as they climb the steps to the upper level. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[STR saves are required; failure reduces HP to zero: only Athalie and Isabeau succeed.]</span><br /><br />Bassianus and Mortine are overcome by the thick stench of rot and clouds of spores. Isabeau must take Bassianus' arm to support him up the stairs. Mortine is able to walk under her own power, but Athalie must carry her pig.<br /><br />Up in the balcony, they look down to see the entire auditorium has been taken over by the fungoid growth. They pass through a row of decaying seats and out an exit onto the wrought iron fire stairs.<br /><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #d9d2e9;"><b>T8 : expected (PP-6) - none - none</b></span><br /><br />The stairs spiral down into an empty alleyway. The brick walls towers above, leaning together to form a rough arch where the upper storeys have collapsed into one another.<br /><br />The explorers pause in the (relatively) fresh air to recover from the choking fumes in the theatre. They sit on some of the less filthy pieces of rubble fallen from the buildings above. Bassianus takes a nip from his flask. Mortine strokes Chatterton and tells him what a good, brave pig he is. Isabeau has Athalie re-wind her clockwork hand.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The short rest restores all HP, but d6=1 : random encounter<br />encounter: acid-dripping, towering biped, launch explosives]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghDHCk3RPWYjRWJlsHLgbhUXgF51gRoFzA8a3TMud69IEZIrzXgAIEDZYLmC_s-HAkbBa7gRJYG61_cnHfCW2UP22WvF6wPVoXyoN-8h3MDXUGO2dRDAsA9OysCzb0XsQPPs6eIf7N7jQNwu1eJ6J5oLzA3krq84eEHei12iyJ_k1wRCVK6b6vvoPKdmQ/s800/caustic%20colossus.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="473" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghDHCk3RPWYjRWJlsHLgbhUXgF51gRoFzA8a3TMud69IEZIrzXgAIEDZYLmC_s-HAkbBa7gRJYG61_cnHfCW2UP22WvF6wPVoXyoN-8h3MDXUGO2dRDAsA9OysCzb0XsQPPs6eIf7N7jQNwu1eJ6J5oLzA3krq84eEHei12iyJ_k1wRCVK6b6vvoPKdmQ/w379-h640/caustic%20colossus.jpg" width="379" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Caustic Colossus<br />STR 18, DEX 4, WIL 4, 12 HP<br />Toxic fists (d10) or Acid Splash (d6 blast)</span><br /><br />The far end of the alleyway grows darker, as a colossal silhouette appears to block the way out into the street. A terrible moan shocks the explorers out of their exhausted quietude. Bassianus is momentarily confused by the plodding shadowy form's appearance, but his companions leap to their feet, weapons at the ready <span style="color: #800180;">[he failed his DEX save and is Surprised]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br />Mortine hurls the flask of fire oil right before the creature. The glass shatters and spreads a flaming puddle before it, though the flames hardly touch the unseen creature <span style="color: #800180;">[1 damage]</span>. But it is unseen no more, for the flash of sudden flame reveals a hideous shape, a grossly humanoid thing of tumescent flesh the colour of an open sore. <br /><br />Athalie and Isabeau discharge their pistols at the brute. The bullets thud into the pulpy rugose flesh of the creature, and it lets out a gurgling bellow of rage <span style="color: #800180;">[5+1 damage drops it to 5hp]</span>.<br /><br />The colossus raises its misshapen arms and a spray of caustic fluid spurts forth from the hollow stumps. Somehow the droplets of reeking yellow acid miss Isabeau completely, but her companions are caught to a greater or lesser degree. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[d6=4 targets, d5=I unaffected<br />A 2dmg to 8hp<br />B 2dmg to 5 STR (titan paste gone), d20= 12 crit<br />M 2dmg to 4 STR, 18=crit<br />pig 2dmg to 8 STR, 9=crit]</span><br /><br />Athalie does her best to ignore the burning on her hand and face, but her companions are not so sanguine. Bassianus feels the last of the Might from the Titan Paste flee his limbs as the burning brings tears to his eyes and he falls a-weeping for pain. Mortine doubles over and collapses on the damp ground, and screams and screams and screams. Chatterton meets the rush of agony with porcine stoicism, then faints dead away.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br />Athalie snatches up Bassianus' musket, shoulders it and fires on the beast. The ball tears a goodly chunk out of its shoulder <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage to 0hp]</span>, and though it howl and moan, it does not stop its advance. It stomps straight through the pool of burning oil <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage, down to 13 STR; d20=1, no crit]</span> and lurches right for Athalie. It slams her with a dripping fist, but she fends off the blow as best she might with her chitinous hand, which has heretofore been exempt from the ravages of the toxic bile. The force of the blow fairly rattles her frame, however <span style="color: #800180;">[7 damage leaves her at 1hp]</span>.<br /><br />Meanwhile, Isabeau has dragged Mortine out of harm's way, and has endeavoured to quiet her down lest her screams attract more attention, though with limited success. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 3]</span><br />Athalie flips the musket round in her grip and smashes the butt into the creature's midsection. Something squelches inside the creature, the forceful blow having dislodged something important; it falls leaking onto the wet ground <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=6dmg to 7 STR, 9=crit]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is the musket ruined? unlikely (5+): O5 C4 - yes, but... mechanism corroded, will become useless after a damage roll of 1 or 8]</span><br /><br />A drop or two of spirits is enough to dull the pain of the caustic burns -- doubly so when the second drop is taken internally. Athalie cleans off Bassianus' musket as best she can, and apologises for misusing it. The mechanism seems to have been corroded somewhat by the acid, but after a few dry fires Bassianus pronounces it still serviceable. <br /><br />Mortine ignores her own injuries to tend to Chatterton. The poor thing is displeased but submissive when she tries rubbing a little whisky on his burns to kill the infection, and it requires all of Isabeau's prodigious strength <span style="color: #800180;">[STR 17]</span> to hold him still so Mortine can get a slug down him. "He's really rather a snob about blends," she explains.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[short rest, HP back to full. d6=5, no encounters]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha40HxaylYUBirdbbFKrc3d-PqV7vJ_d49XDPrue5j1B1NNAWuBPwXpEhKMMcp3blDoWd6V3GxR1vd7Q_Z5298RCYvLOtVFEqO9ecLfPUywxA75ctDMpkIH6LVF9ZeLl2u1sotG5qTYtX1QGbpOfviIYwNlCpf3mjZD0vnGzaha7x3ueA7FsjOI3s4US0/s800/alleyway.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="640" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha40HxaylYUBirdbbFKrc3d-PqV7vJ_d49XDPrue5j1B1NNAWuBPwXpEhKMMcp3blDoWd6V3GxR1vd7Q_Z5298RCYvLOtVFEqO9ecLfPUywxA75ctDMpkIH6LVF9ZeLl2u1sotG5qTYtX1QGbpOfviIYwNlCpf3mjZD0vnGzaha7x3ueA7FsjOI3s4US0/w512-h640/alleyway.jpg" width="512" /></a></div><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T9 : expected - random - random<br />encounter: stinking filth, obese biped<br />object: Lethal, Fortunate<br /></b><br />Rested and reloaded, they emerge from the alley into another rubble-strewn street. They spot another of the horrid colossi stomping towards them from some distance away. <br /><br />Mortine and Chatterton retreat to the alley as the others take careful aim and fire. Bullets rip through the swollen flesh, and seem merely to annoy it. <span style="color: #800180;">[d6+d6+d8= 8 damage; it's down to 4hp]</span><br /><br />The three fall back into the alley before it has a chance to spray them with toxin. They hide in doorways and behind rubble, hurriedly reloading. <span style="color: #800180;">[DEX saves needed to finish in time: A&I make theirs.]</span><br /><br />Bassianus is still fumbling with the ramrod when the thing comes into view. Athalie and Isabeau fire their pistols <span style="color: #800180;">[d6+d6=10damage to 0hp, 12 STR, d20=crit]</span>. The thing falls with a sickening squelch. Everyone hurries back out of the alleyway before the pool of frothy blood and oily toxin grows too big to leap over.<br /><br />Athalie and Isabeau reload their pistols in the street as Bassianus stands guard. Mortine looks round, a trifle bored, then something shiny catches her eye. She takes Isabeau's lantern up from the ground and runs off before anyone's had time to scold her. A skeletal corpse of a more recent explorer is crumpled over a sagging bench. Its hand still grips a fine sabre <span style="color: #800180;">[noble weapon, d8]</span>. She uses her pen knife to snap the fingers off and admires the shining blade in the lamplight. Her companions are abruptly behind her. Their vulgar imprecations turn at once to coos of admiration when they see the treasure she's found.<br /><br />The street ends abruptly in an impassible ruin. They find a hole bored by something leading into a shattered building off to the side. The roughly circular path leads out to an open area. Here a set of concrete steps lead to an upper story, and a makeshift bridge connects to the theatre's upper balcony. <br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T10 : special - none - random<br />special: return<br />Object: Travel, Fortunate</b><br /><br />What's left of the ground floor is a maze of corridors. The explorers proceed down them without getting too turned round, and at last find a narrow stairwell leading down to a concrete platform. At the platform's end is a pump car on a rail which disappears into the darkness of a long straight passage.<br /><br />"It's either this, or walk," says Bassianus.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T11 : expected - expected (-6PP) - expected</b><br /><br />Indefatigable Isabeau operates the pump car at a modest speed, lest the track suddenly run out. Fortunately it does not, and several minutes later thy come to another platform, deserted save for the pale little vermin which scurry away from the hated lamplight.<br /><br />A simple concrete corridor leads away from the platform. After several junctures, it ends in a doorway. An iron-clad door hangs by a single rusted hinge, and above the lintel a device is stamped into the frame. Scant flecks of paint still adhere to it, but despite age and neglect Athalie can make out the sequence of alchemical symbols. "This is it!" she exclaims. "Just like the lich's book said it would be." If she flushes at the memory of some of the steamier allusions in the dead wizard's description of the entrance, her companions fail to notice.<br /><br />Isabeau gives the hanging door a good kick and it falls to the ground with a crash. <br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T12 : complete - expected - random<br />Object: Meaningful, Liquid</b><br /><br />Once the dust is settled (and the coughing fits have subsided, and Isabeau's final apology has been issued) the explorers proceed into the sub-basement. The walls and floor are smooth concrete, save for the single wall of dressed stone where, according to the floor plan Bassianus tore from the library book, the old staircase is walled in. Shelves had been built into the far wall. These are mostly fallen away in a heap in the dust, but on the one that remains Bassianus spots a glass phial. Wiping the dust from it reveals a pink, bubbling liquid inside. He pockets it for now, as he's not desperate enough to sample an ancient wizard's forgotten potion just this moment.<br /><br />The room is cramped, so much so that there is only room for one of them to work at a time. Athalie volunteers to start them off, and the others stay outside on the platform as she attacks the stones with the pickaxe they'd brought for the occasion.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The digging will last long enough that three encounter checks must be made: 2,1,6. The 2 result would normally be sounds of a nearby encounter, but the noise obscures it totally. The encounter (1 result) occurs when (d4=)Bassianus is digging; all his attacks are Impaired until he catches his breath.<br /><br />encounter: ceramic terror bird/reptile hybrid<br /><br />Q: What does it want? <span style="font-family: georgia;">Eternal Comforter</span>]</span><br /><br />The echoes of the pick striking the wall resound down the passageway, making conversation for the three waiting outside an impossibility. As one tires from the hard labour, their place is taken by another. Slowly but steadily the little sub-basement fills with rubble as a hole takes shape in the ancient stonework.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0VDm_xxMwM3pmM_bJoAjIlRoulogmR4UtimyDtXm0k7Q-EQ1OQOqKozZzSK2PNjBOcWMFDN0g-1Gysw1fHuyb1Jd8wNqGaiIkokabaLsqWgcWrk1_laUQW1xu6jsTyOhncPrj0o_150kTRPKoBoJ08FnfBx52Uh_7vtD-buJ-Qr9aMVNYU3YjVGTgzQ/s800/cramped.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="601" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0VDm_xxMwM3pmM_bJoAjIlRoulogmR4UtimyDtXm0k7Q-EQ1OQOqKozZzSK2PNjBOcWMFDN0g-1Gysw1fHuyb1Jd8wNqGaiIkokabaLsqWgcWrk1_laUQW1xu6jsTyOhncPrj0o_150kTRPKoBoJ08FnfBx52Uh_7vtD-buJ-Qr9aMVNYU3YjVGTgzQ/w480-h640/cramped.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>As Bassianus is having his go, the echo changes slightly, becoming more staccato. At first, sharp-eared Athalie puts it down to her poor, indolent companion's difficulty in wielding the weighty pickaxe, but she soon recognises a second, distinct pattern of sounds. She is rousing her bored friends to take up their arms as a curious being clacks into the limits of the lantern light.<br /><br />The creature is a collection of white ceramic pipes in the rough outline of a four-legged terror bird. Tiny wing-like protuberances on each side of its body end in long, steely needles that flex as it clacks forward with a jittery equine gait.<br /><br />"You are injured!" it rasps at tremendous volume.<br /><br />"I...," stammers Mortine, lowering her sabre in consternation.<br /><br />"And you also!" it rasps again.<br /><br />Chatterton grunts assent<br /><br />"I am also hurt," says Bassianus, emerging into the doorway.<br /><br />"Prepare to receive treatment!" it screeches, agitating its wing needles.<br /><br />"You know me," says Mortine, rolling up her sleeve. "I'll try anything once."<br /><br />The ceramic terror bird drives a needle into her arm. Fsssst! goes the injection. Mortine shudders, then...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The effects are (1d4): 1 +1 STR, 2 +1d4 STR, 3 +1d6 STR, 4 euthanasia (1d12 STR damage): +1d4]</span><br /><br />...her injuries miraculously disappear; cuts heal without a scar, bruises fade, even the fingernail she'd bitten to the quick returns to a healthy length.<br /><br />Bassianus goes next, and whilst the unknown medicine restores him to full health, yet does he lament the Titan Paste has completely worn off. Chatterton grunts as the needle pierces his hide, and whilst it does not cure all his ills, he seems happy enough, as pigs go. <span style="color: #800180;">[M +3 to 7 (full), B +1 to 6 (full), pig +1 to 9 STR]</span><br /><br />The creature clacks off into the darkness.<br /><br /><br /><i>next post: creeping through the council fortress</i><br />Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-74994410889838815332023-09-18T20:01:00.005+01:002023-09-18T20:01:38.452+01:00ItO solo - Part VII : Sssssshhhhhhhhh!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFb_FBGO6w_9FI66fh0NfNRaFovk04OMaWC8eQ5zXzq3SET4L_qXDGf3MGL7surIpb89FPY1thNz54pmnX9yRIMhrjvzOHkYIFWVMD6TrRLGVx5BHTdqWJ8y_SpexWRgfu0SakYsBsnziIA3jnHDb0MNH4Owb36QiiBQkb-xdBozK9awJh_urmkjqNtVg/s1047/library_exterior.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="372" data-original-width="1047" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFb_FBGO6w_9FI66fh0NfNRaFovk04OMaWC8eQ5zXzq3SET4L_qXDGf3MGL7surIpb89FPY1thNz54pmnX9yRIMhrjvzOHkYIFWVMD6TrRLGVx5BHTdqWJ8y_SpexWRgfu0SakYsBsnziIA3jnHDb0MNH4Owb36QiiBQkb-xdBozK9awJh_urmkjqNtVg/s600/library_exterior.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>The borough's public library is an imposing pile of weathered stone fronted by portico of ionic columns. Great steps flanked by recumbent stone lions lead up to the portico, rising some half a story above the street level.<br /><br />The explorers pause before its grandeur, then slowly begin the climb.<br /><br />"W-wait," says Isabeau as they are at the halfway point. "On second thought, I'd better not go in."<br /><br />"Why shouldn't you?" asks Athalie.<br /><br />"I still haven't returned, erm, the book I borrowed. It's well overdue."<br /><br />"What book is it?"<br /><br />"I'd, um, rather not say."<br /><br />"Oh? Oh! Can I borrow it when you're done, then?"<br /><br />"Of course!"<br /><br />"I'll wait with you," offers Mortine. "I don't think they take kindly to pets."<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 3<br /><br />Chaos:</b> average (d10)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> research<br /><br /><b>NPC List: </b>the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain, scribe, Mortine<br /><br /><b>Threads:</b> find lost entrance, investigate location<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Do any of the PCs have overdue books and/or fines? 50/50 (4+): O5 C5 - yes (d3=Isabeau)<br />+EVENT: NPC action - scribe - <span style="font-family: georgia;">I see the recumbent Flocks</span><br />=the Scribe is watching those outside the Fortress, and making a plan<br /><br />Q: What is the librarian like? <span style="font-family: georgia;">as the horrid Apparition to Brutus</span><br /><br />(the reference is, of course, to Shakespeare (<i>Julius Caesar</i> (Act 4, Scene 3); but I mixed it up in my head with Iulia's ghost in Lucan's <i>Pharsalia</i> (who appeared to Pompey, not Brutus):<br /><br /></span><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #800180;">membra ducis; diri tum plena horroris imago<br /></span><span style="color: #800180;">uisa caput maestum per hiantis Iulia terras<br /></span><span style="color: #800180;">tollere et accenso furialis stare sepulchro.<br /></span><span style="color: #800180;"> —Luc. 3.9-11</span></blockquote><span style="color: #800180;"><br />so I went with that.]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXPANsO-siFwGD_s8tm_qUxstFCuTFoNeMoBu2A4q92_aXBHbDtts4vMpSd1mMy1IqJz8l-6mgUXQ407DrO6Ad2UnnA5ayThGkYxEeC_L3W_ZASOzmqoyRHvJoaPdK1bgimSuoDRBhLyE6tUN_eAskjcREkAgfjt52iRFkUN4Pe6F88jtvHUm34i0c1o/s501/fury.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="501" data-original-width="370" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCXPANsO-siFwGD_s8tm_qUxstFCuTFoNeMoBu2A4q92_aXBHbDtts4vMpSd1mMy1IqJz8l-6mgUXQ407DrO6Ad2UnnA5ayThGkYxEeC_L3W_ZASOzmqoyRHvJoaPdK1bgimSuoDRBhLyE6tUN_eAskjcREkAgfjt52iRFkUN4Pe6F88jtvHUm34i0c1o/w295-h400/fury.jpg" width="295" /></a></div>Athalie and Bassianus go directly to the cloakroom, for they must check their weapons and Arcana. From there they pass into the entry hall. The weight of the silence within is palpable, and they proceed slowly and carefully, lest their footsteps boom out in the stillness. They approach the enquiry desk. A librarian sits behind it, vengeful and terrifying; her eyes gleam in the dim light, boring into the new arrivals' souls as if cataloguing their deepest secrets. She has the mien of a Fury, ready to punish any transgression in this holy place. Good thing Isabeau waited outside.<br /><br />Neither Bassianus nor Athalie want to disturb the librarian, so they instead go to the card catalogue.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[WIL saves: 11,7 both make them - each finds something useful.<br /><br />Q: Does A need to go to the desk? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and... special collections<br />Q: Does B need to go to the desk? 50/50 (4+): O2 C0 - no, general stacks<br /><br />Titles & authors to be rolled on my unfinished grimoire generator.]</span><br /><br />Each finds something of interest, and notes the title and shelf mark on a piece of paper provided. The scratch of their pencils shatters the quiet, but at least no shushing ensues. Bassianus' discovery is in the general stacks, so he wordlessly goes off to find it. But Athalie wants to consult an item from the restricted stacks, and must meekly take her slip up to the counter. The librarian looks at it briefly, then indicates the special collections wing is found upstairs, pointing with a long, bony finger.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[A reaction roll is needed to view this item: WIL save d20=5, success]</span><br /><br />The special collections librarian is much more helpful and much less terrifying than the one downstairs, but Athalie still notes the bulge of a pistol beneath her frock. And the item she wishes to view is not the sort of book one would should admit to reading, unless one were writing a scholarly treatise against such depravity. So Athalie must sit <i>dans l'enfer de la bibliothèque</i> to read it under the watchful eye of a sinister and disapproving invigilator.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoAd9cxA5oL8-jorBaJvcGFHwrcBiku0w5nSljZdT6IE4GL5C2q4AzpiuZjAqQbcTI_CcyqzRAqPIMIJ9d7lZHx9kZidSi0Gckrk0OYiGZnCmTJo8_Abise-8Gop3J0O9jNshtmsyL0R8akscMx6dIoITiotDCmortQN_Ye_XGbQrHNat1JV_trAElm6Q/s702/invigilator.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="702" data-original-width="445" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoAd9cxA5oL8-jorBaJvcGFHwrcBiku0w5nSljZdT6IE4GL5C2q4AzpiuZjAqQbcTI_CcyqzRAqPIMIJ9d7lZHx9kZidSi0Gckrk0OYiGZnCmTJo8_Abise-8Gop3J0O9jNshtmsyL0R8akscMx6dIoITiotDCmortQN_Ye_XGbQrHNat1JV_trAElm6Q/w253-h400/invigilator.jpg" width="253" /></a></div>The book in question is entitled <i>The Abominable Truth</i>, composed several decades ago by an ill-intentioned libertine. It discusses the psycho-geography of certain Bastion neighbourhoods, its style is a curious admixture of Sade's <i>Philosophie dans le boudoir</i>, Vitruvius' <i>De architectura</i>, and an A-to-Z.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is it dangerous? likely (3+): O6 C4 - yes, but... <br />Her WIL save to avoid complications succeeds.]</span><br /><br />She swoons at some of the steamier passages but does not faint, nor sigh, nor cry out. Besides, the invigilator's stare is practically burning holes in the back of her neck, which does put somewhat of a damper on her mood -- as well as reminding her not to turn the pages with her hideous claw.<br /><br />meanwhile...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does Bassianus have any problems finding the book? doubtful (6): O6 C8 - yes<br />Q: What? (1d6): 1 random encounter, 2 book lost, 3 currently checked out, 4 currently being read, 5 hard to find shelf, 6 roll 2d5: d6=random encounter<br /><br />Encounter: <span style="font-family: georgia;">Appetites of the Brute</span>, d6=f]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh20dEsO3ORbWUAwg2RqD_R2tTU6QMrO6OnJEFGfrLndz8PZK5MbHd3KB9MkQbfCe5pBW-uD138XBwpNQY9wjzh2A3X9Fg3-E_hmqQi0s2I3XOfYeS_SMRGrVbbHeoXzt1gUU6ejYfIEGH65hs_oDXS77wL1rBYSEDlcC-kCn4D1zP-ohmGyEKCcMuLQ0Q/s821/labyrinth%20of%20shelves.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="821" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh20dEsO3ORbWUAwg2RqD_R2tTU6QMrO6OnJEFGfrLndz8PZK5MbHd3KB9MkQbfCe5pBW-uD138XBwpNQY9wjzh2A3X9Fg3-E_hmqQi0s2I3XOfYeS_SMRGrVbbHeoXzt1gUU6ejYfIEGH65hs_oDXS77wL1rBYSEDlcC-kCn4D1zP-ohmGyEKCcMuLQ0Q/s600/labyrinth%20of%20shelves.jpg" width="600" /></a></div>Bassianus has been wandering the labyrinth of shelves, looking for the right section. He's nearly come to the right place when he spies a lovely young woman. She looks somewhat familiar. Perhaps he'd ought to say hello. He takes a few steps forward when it suddenly comes to him: she's the nice young lady whose flat he crept out of before she awoke in the morning just Tuesday last. And his footsteps have alerted her to his presence. <br /><br />He is just able to slip back as she comes down the centre aisle <span style="color: #800180;">[DEX save succeeds]</span> and bury his face in a tall volume plucked at random from the shelf. Seeing no one of interest about, she soon wanders off towards the <span style="color: #800180;">[Dewey decimal d1000=260]</span> Social & Ecclesiastical Theology shelves. Fortunately, he's after Architecture <span style="color: #800180;">[720s]</span>.<br /><br />He finds the book he seeks, and repairs to an out-of-the way carrel to read it. <br /><br /><i>The Consolation of the Worlds</i> is an obscure work, attributed to a pedantic lich. It describes in exhaustively detailed prose and verse the building of the old stronghold, which the author claimed would be greatly marvelled at by creatures both spiritual and corporeal, so much so that all strife would cease and a new golden age dawn. Bassianus leafs through paeans about window-sills and a mathematical analysis of the Perfection of the Cornices until he finds what it is he truly seeks, for in the midst of the chapter entitled 'The Sub-Basement, or A New Jerusalem', there is an engraved plate with a detailed floor plan. He surreptitiously tears this from the volume and stuffs it beneath his waistcoat.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxyIcvotxMR5iwB8eKc-4LSmsmVijlqX6PDUNmdbGhjvUzRD0QmJbi61FUYQOt6Nm7Z5eB8lET4NbCw1kvSXJ14XWZFCXm5JXMNd19qj9vR8vQ6PD_vfAH86n8NxMfu_MIcKp2mEacoXVs0mbtXb0mFIEVqwqKXMVMvUbNfqwrCY5qM55sBJW8uY3cIE/s800/library%20interior.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="579" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTxyIcvotxMR5iwB8eKc-4LSmsmVijlqX6PDUNmdbGhjvUzRD0QmJbi61FUYQOt6Nm7Z5eB8lET4NbCw1kvSXJ14XWZFCXm5JXMNd19qj9vR8vQ6PD_vfAH86n8NxMfu_MIcKp2mEacoXVs0mbtXb0mFIEVqwqKXMVMvUbNfqwrCY5qM55sBJW8uY3cIE/s600/library%20interior.jpg" width="600" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;">[DEX save to not get caught, d20=9 ok<br /><br />Q: Does anything happen to others outside? 50/50 (4+): O3 C5 - no<br />Q: Can they retrieve their expedition gear without incident? unlikely (5+): O2 C4 - no, but... minor problem<br />Q: What? <span style="font-family: georgia;">worthy of all Observation</span> - they are followed by agents of some unknown party. Adding The Tail to the NPC list, will strike at the appropriate moment]</span><br /><br />When Athalie and Bassianus finally emerge from the library, they find Isabeau and Mortine have fallen asleep, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the steps, with Chatterton acting as a guard pig.<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 4<br /><br />Chaos:</b> out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> d8=Interrupt (was: into the Underground)<br /><br /><b>Interrupt: </b>PC negative - Bassianus - <span style="font-family: georgia;">His Bounty is absolutely without Limits</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The library have detected the theft, and there will be trouble should he go back.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 5<br /><br />Chaos:</b> average (d10)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> into the Underground<br /><br /><b>NPC List: </b>the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain, scribe, Mortine, Tail<br /><br /><b>Threads:</b> find lost entrance, investigate location<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Setting up the dungeon--<br /><br />Oddpendium: Is there a link to the Underground? d%= an old well<br /><br />Since Athalie's research was successful, the Random Location Crafting dungeon (Mythic Magazine #3) will be a Small Location. The Underground of Bastion is weird, so I rolled a d3 for type: d3=Palatial Dungeon.<br /><br />Story descriptors: The source of a mystery; The place was brought to ruin by a calamity<br />Region descriptors: Crumbling, in ruins; Thick with plant life<br /><br />Random encounters were inspired by the Weird Creature Inspiration tables (Nature, Form, Twist) in the Oddpendium. Stats were 3d6 with 2d6hp, except where the inspiration suggested a particularly high or low score. Attacks/Defences/Powers were created with an eye to making the encounters interesting to play beyond just simple attacks & damage. I will probably truncate some of the combats as a strict blow-by-blow can bog down a dungeon adventure.]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fQ8wpcyxrefOU4KNa6L7ppCzco3VBtwjUdzSUPl4wEJ1PGSaLbLgQkd3rzNVTswxnK1XRaqEHoXY8vZsiSBb69YDqo4yTePRNI8qFHC5UEjdZE1VjNgCzC2uR1N4h33PzcMG6KeSoxjNLydeek9qB86WylN8xry9kaPM0gnkr1MRgx-dn1XKwqyAnvM/s800/old_bastion.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="602" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-fQ8wpcyxrefOU4KNa6L7ppCzco3VBtwjUdzSUPl4wEJ1PGSaLbLgQkd3rzNVTswxnK1XRaqEHoXY8vZsiSBb69YDqo4yTePRNI8qFHC5UEjdZE1VjNgCzC2uR1N4h33PzcMG6KeSoxjNLydeek9qB86WylN8xry9kaPM0gnkr1MRgx-dn1XKwqyAnvM/s600/old_bastion.jpg" /></a></div>Athalie has led her companions to a deserted square surrounded by half-collapsed tenements, abandoned may years ago due to a localised typhus epidemic and subsequent hauntings. In the midst of the square is an old well, stopped by a heavy wooden cover held in place by stout iron chains. A placard nailed to the cover is so faded by time and the elements that the warning it most certainly bore is no longer legible -- nor is the obscene graffiti penned over it by long dead ne'er-do-wells.<br /><br />Bassianus' crowbar makes short work of the rings securing the chains. Then with a mighty heave <span style="color: #800180;">[STR 17!]</span> Isabeau shoves the cover off onto the ground.<br /><br /><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">T0 : expected - random - expected</b><br /><br />Inside is complete darkness; had any in Bastion ever seen the sun overhead, surely the shadows cast by the looming ruins about them in the square would still have hidden the well's depths from mortal eyes. Bassianus tosses a rusty nail down, and moments later it pings erratically off something hard, for the well has long since run dry.<br /><br />Isabeau's lantern is lit and lowered slowly down the well at the end of a rope until it rests on the floor, some 50 feet below. Then begins a lively debate about who's going in first. Athalie is first to tire of the bickering, and peevishly -- I mean, bravely -- volunteers. The rope is secured to a nearby post. Athalie clambers over the side of the well, loops the rope about one foot, then slides down cautiously, holding the rope in her horrible claw and a loaded pistol in her free hand.<br /><br />As the room below comes into view, Athalie can make out the rubbish-strewn floor, covered in dirt and other sediment. The chamber is squarish, with an alcove or passage at one end. Amongst the filth she spots movement, something long and rusted, like an iron serpent, begins to move with a terrible grating sound. Its tail beings to twitch, and Athalie's gaze traces fine wires extending from the tip of the tail to the ceiling above, where spindly metal arms with spade-like claws are reaching for her.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Oddpendium Weird Creature Inspiration--<br />nature: rusted shell<br />form: snake<br />twist: grasps with extra limbs]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier;">Rust Cobra<br />STR 11, DEX 10, WIL 9, 3 HP<br />Armour 1<br />catching claws (d8 or Grapple, STR save to escape on subsequent rounds)</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br />Athalie pauses her descent long enough to fire a shot at the iron serpent. The report is deafening. She sees the spark where the ball dents the flared metal cobra's hood, but does not hear it ricochet off onto the wall, nor the unprintable expletives hurled by her affrighted companions above. <span style="color: #800180;">[She made a DEX save to avoid Surprise. Damage was 4-1(armour), dropping it to 0hp.]</span><br /><br />Athalie lets go the rope, intent of dropping the last few feet into the chamber, but her feet never touch the ground, for the spindly arms catch her and hold her fast.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br />More from fear than raw strength, Athalie throws off the claws that bind her. But moments later she is caught from behind by another creaking pair. <span style="color: #800180;">[Her STR save succeeded. I gave the monster a 50/50 chance to attack normally or start another grapple]</span><br /><br />Isabeau slides down rope with consummate grace <span style="color: #800180;">[DEX save to descend safely in one round; she rolls a natural 1]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 3]</span><br />Athalie is held fast <span style="color: #800180;">[STR save fails]</span> by the claws. Another pair is stabbing at Isabeau, but she's already bringing her sword down hard on the body of the creature. She leaves a huge dent in the side, and it ceases to function. <span style="color: #800180;">[2-1 dmg to STR 10, d20=crit]</span><br /><br />The arms go limp as soon as the snake stops moving. Athalie carefully disengages them from her person, then slides to the ground.<br /><br />"The rest of you can come down now!" shouts Isabeau.<br /><br />"You should tell the others to come down now that it's safe," says Athalie.<br /><br />"I just did, dear heart."<br /><br />"What?"<br /><br />"Let's not use guns down here any more!" she shouts, pointing to Athalie's smoking pistol.<br /><br />Mortine and Bassianus lower the pig down next, which is as absurd an event as Isabeau and Athalie have ever seen. They are still wiping tears of laughter from their eyes when their companions have both rejoined them. Mortine fails to see the humour, and whispers in Chatterton's ear to restore his normal porcine calm.<br /><br />Isabeau takes the lamp. They all unlimber their hand weapons, and then squeeze through the gap at the end of the alcove. <br /><br /><br /><i>next post: exploring the Underground</i> Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-87848987524549692472023-09-11T19:49:00.000+01:002023-09-11T19:49:22.356+01:00ItO solo - Part VI : Star of the Night<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX8LnXNJ_m3JtdnEQdrbKG_3KXxT5qOCqXC8mM_Vy-0gLBKG4pbyscLqjVSe7iNxJQ1_URT1WkMxIV-1zCz6HloZR1VVDszkQDzj3YXz9b1LmiWBKq2YRHoUtpaFMfqRKU8Gmxynx6sitihwuGXGOKzEOHLWRFcwTN-Eg_EOKeDvfk-gG0JZhTIwqzH8M/s900/star%20of%20the%20night.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="600" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="599" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX8LnXNJ_m3JtdnEQdrbKG_3KXxT5qOCqXC8mM_Vy-0gLBKG4pbyscLqjVSe7iNxJQ1_URT1WkMxIV-1zCz6HloZR1VVDszkQDzj3YXz9b1LmiWBKq2YRHoUtpaFMfqRKU8Gmxynx6sitihwuGXGOKzEOHLWRFcwTN-Eg_EOKeDvfk-gG0JZhTIwqzH8M/s600/star%20of%20the%20night.jpg"/></a></div>"Who could be at my door at this ungodly hour of the morning?" thinks Isabeau through last night's fading haze of cheap wine and bad dreams. "Perhaps if I continue to lie here quietly they'll go away. Oh! they're not going away. The knocking's getting more insistent, if anything. Oh, very well..."<br /><br />She throws back the covers and finds a robe on the floor. "I'm coming!" she shrieks as she retrieves her pistol from the night stand and hazards a glance at the clock. She opens her front door a crack and is relieved to find her visitor is but a tiny street waif.<br /><br />"It's just gone half eleven," grates Isabeau at the wide-eyed child. "Have you no decency? What's this about."<br /><br />"Aye 'ave a missige fer yoaw," says the waif in an exaggerated, fake cockney.<br /><br />Isabeau snatches the sealed envelope away. "Off with you!" <br /><br />The child's only response is an outstretched hand and a pleading whine. "Pleeze, Missus, myte aye 'ave a pinny fer sum bred."<br /><br />Her response is to cock her pistol. The urchin runs off.<br /><br />Isabeau shuts her door, rubs the sleep from her eyes, then breaks the seal on the envelope. A single folded sheet of paper is within, bearing a short missive, evidently dashed off in some haste. It must be urgent.<br /><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>"Have heard of yr adventures. In dire need of brave souls to undertake task. Come to back room of address on front, bring yr associates.</i></blockquote><i><br /></i><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>yrs etc,</i></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>Councilman Montoni</i></blockquote><i><br /></i><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><i>P.S. Pls excuse this informal note. I have dashed it off in some haste to underscore its urgency."</i></blockquote><br />She throws on some clothes and a wrap and heads straight to Athalie's flat.<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 1<br /><br />Chaos:</b> average (d10)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> the summons<br /><br /><b>NPC List:</b> the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain<br /><br /><b>Threads: </b>the mission<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does anything untoward happen on the way to Athalie's? 50/50 (4+): O2 C2 - no, and...<br />+Event: Introduce a new NPC - <span style="font-family: georgia;">romantic Visionary</span><br />Q: What does (d6=)she want? <span style="font-family: georgia;">A Person may be chearful among his Friends</span>]</span><br /><br />But she's scarcely walked three blocks when she runs into an old friend sitting on the pavement and staring dejectedly down into a sewer grate. Her pet pig is tied to a lamp post nearby.<br /><br />"Mortine! Why so mopey?"<br /><br />"Oh, Isabeau! I am ever so lonely. I've nothing to do but sit here and watch the lights flickering down in the sewer."<br /><br />"I... don't see any lights."<br /><br />"They've stopped now. I think whoever was down there got eaten by something."<br /><br />"I know the feeling... Look, my friends and I have been summoned for an important and, no doubt, dangerous mission. But you're welcome to tag along."<br /><br />"I should love to! Come, Chatterton, we're going on an adventure."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[As she's joining the party, I rolled up a new character with the alternative equipment table in the Oddpendium.]</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBn1YNWBaWtye54pD5DiSB_-MCyfSxyD9i_TGjQJWVv46mOJ2UgIxPJwCBxr45-En4TEF7xWYMsEnsyH0JLrWV6WKcP-jmEQ6Q8_Yxb1lf0BnDh6RhOKHVJ6By4XMk8YkNfSNcnaUNeU52UZ5tr7cVJW5So5S3tI2gehiu3zN_svTGabS9TdCm0-fl3jA/s596/isabeau%20meets%20mortine.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="596" data-original-width="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBn1YNWBaWtye54pD5DiSB_-MCyfSxyD9i_TGjQJWVv46mOJ2UgIxPJwCBxr45-En4TEF7xWYMsEnsyH0JLrWV6WKcP-jmEQ6Q8_Yxb1lf0BnDh6RhOKHVJ6By4XMk8YkNfSNcnaUNeU52UZ5tr7cVJW5So5S3tI2gehiu3zN_svTGabS9TdCm0-fl3jA/s400/isabeau%20meets%20mortine.jpg"/></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Mortine des Combres<br />STR 7, DEX 14, WIL 8, 2 HP<br />cricket bat (d6 B), glue, pig ("Chatterton")</span><br /><br /><br />When they are nearly to Athalie's flat, Mortine stops short, and a grave expression comes over her face. <br /><br />"This is the edge of the Ghetto. Your friend lives here?"<br /><br />"Yes, why?<br /><br />"Perhaps I should wait here. I doubt she'd appreciate me bringing a pig into her flat."<br /><br />"Ha ha! I don't think that will be a problem. Athalie may be « une affreuse juive », but wait until you meet her -- she's as treyf as they come!"<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6MDyZdm9BK9xGSknLiADDyGL__1ryG3lujvaEul3wVj5UTHpSfkHY5mkGlwBQYpIsg7hMR7cklgwpu1Jj4IaA0RgMaGRqgbs18e9SW-VLVCzq8StCA_bvXCcYqdkQ0sNh0Jr5nmpliVqacLa6tmUlTlJGVRhlIF1lt_Trl1N_YKeox5i9svLOMgaiM4/s933/judengasse.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="517" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6MDyZdm9BK9xGSknLiADDyGL__1ryG3lujvaEul3wVj5UTHpSfkHY5mkGlwBQYpIsg7hMR7cklgwpu1Jj4IaA0RgMaGRqgbs18e9SW-VLVCzq8StCA_bvXCcYqdkQ0sNh0Jr5nmpliVqacLa6tmUlTlJGVRhlIF1lt_Trl1N_YKeox5i9svLOMgaiM4/s400/judengasse.jpg"/></a></div>When they reach the flat block, they must climb five flights of rickety stairs to the very top. Mortine <span style="color: #800180;">[STR 7]</span> gives up halfway, and sits on the landing breathlessly whilst Isabeau continues up. She lets herself in with her own key, stumbles through the dark garret and pulls up a chair between Athalie's bed and the table bearing the empty bottles of last evening's debaucheries. And one last piece of cake, to which she helps herself.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5z5mRDGjktQLcsq2pWn4TBeAkt2w1IBJahthVHMBPYp-eqhuWy_bAE4zZb7Vn62j8_0F5P3cFjyybt-YXd6Gap3y_RLGJnzuBk93E2fqFUKVmpC_F5kWIiMfU4O9XF3mw5VRdo0qnbk0en-Kb-511P5fGEZcJQs7z9a63wGmA5V08GWT0Q3BKcZM22oo/s800/call%20to%20adventure.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="605" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5z5mRDGjktQLcsq2pWn4TBeAkt2w1IBJahthVHMBPYp-eqhuWy_bAE4zZb7Vn62j8_0F5P3cFjyybt-YXd6Gap3y_RLGJnzuBk93E2fqFUKVmpC_F5kWIiMfU4O9XF3mw5VRdo0qnbk0en-Kb-511P5fGEZcJQs7z9a63wGmA5V08GWT0Q3BKcZM22oo/s400/call%20to%20adventure.jpg"/></a></div>"Time to wake up dear. We've been summoned."<br /><br />"Summoned?" yawns Athalie. "By our Patron?"<br /><br />"Worse -- the council. They sent a runner."<br /><br />"Oh bugger off, my darling. I don't even live in your borough."<br /><br />"It's a dangerous mission, my dear, and I need your help. Now, get out of bed you lush. It's time to go on an adventure!"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Any issues getting B? likely (3+): O2 C5 - no]</span><br /><br />Fetching Bassianus is singularly uneventful. From his they proceed directly to the appointed meeting place. The Despair & Anchor is a quiet little pub frequented by clerks, bankers, solicitors, and others of that ilk; needless to say, our heroes never drink here. They ask at the bar, and the publican directs them to the back room.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1refxClotIfEFavcxynwvYsOdCy-UDfpeXVtqhZRT1oMcPftbILgFIOpkJk4-hHo0eYWPcnmx-kLWxAB_Bq7Z1PSvi8-3lEcjDwHM9MsbLGFwJQBVPDkx4EUmmVvrEzZHTz5gnmDjWImVZ59s4q56wj4evdEB2MeCd03zaClA-hmNk4ZC6rjCQcFdbU/s800/councillors.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm1refxClotIfEFavcxynwvYsOdCy-UDfpeXVtqhZRT1oMcPftbILgFIOpkJk4-hHo0eYWPcnmx-kLWxAB_Bq7Z1PSvi8-3lEcjDwHM9MsbLGFwJQBVPDkx4EUmmVvrEzZHTz5gnmDjWImVZ59s4q56wj4evdEB2MeCd03zaClA-hmNk4ZC6rjCQcFdbU/s400/councillors.jpg"/></a></div>The back room is a cozy affair, with old weaponry and skulls adorning the walls. A brazier burns with heady incense atop a claw-footed tripod, and behind it a moaning spirit is encased in a great bell jar. A man in an expensive suit sits in a wicker chair, a black cat perched atop his shoulder.<br /><br />"Ah, Miss Isabeau, so good of you to come promptly," says the man without getting up, "and I see you've brought friends along. Allow me to make introductions. I am Councilman Montoni, Head Councillor pro tem. Here on my shoulder sits our treasurer, St Aubert."<br /><br />The cat yowls something approximating a greeting.<br /><br />"And in the bell jar is poor Ludovico. I'm afraid he was killed during the, ah, disturbance, but we were able to contain his etheric form here to maintain a quorum."<br /><br />"Leeeeet meeeeeeee diiiiie," moans the spirit.<br /><br />"Chin up, old chap, I'm sure once Miss Isabeau and her companions have solved this little conundrum of ours, you'll be allowed to pass on. And as to that: there is a schism in our council. Some of our members have formed a little cabal, and are trying to wrest power from the remainder of us. They are holed up in the council fortress, having sealed all the exits and windows with some sort of energy barrier. We've been trying to breach the outer defences with a hired cannon, but to no avail. If you and your associates can find a way in, you'll be rewarded with an Exemption on your council tax. You're very much in arrears, Miss."<br /><br />"How many of your fellows are holed up inside?"<br /><br />"There are <span style="color: #800180;">[1d6=]</span> five of them. Plus some servants, clerks, and the like."<br /><br />"Five? I thought you had a quorum here."<br /><br />"We do. The other three of us are supervising the soldiers. With the cannon."<br /><br />"Can you tell us about the building?"<br /><br />"It's listed, grade II, and very ancient. It was once home of a great wizard, or so it is said."<br /><br />"Can you tell us anything else?"<br /><br />"Not really, no."<br /><br /><b>. . .</b><br /><br />Out in the street before the pub, Isabeau stops and addresses her companions.<br /><br />"Well, that's worse than I expected. This is my mess. I'll understand if you don't want to come along."<br /><br />"Oh, pish," scolds Bassianus. "You know we'd not desert you."<br /><br />"Thanks ever, you two. Three, if I may count you, Mortine."<br /><br />"Of course. But how shall we start? They gave us less than nothing to go on. They couldn't even offer a guess about how to break in to their own chambers."<br /><br />"It's obvious where to go first," says Athalie.<br /><br />"And where's that?"<br /><br />"To the library!"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[I had no strong opinions on how to start the second adventure, so before starting the game I rolled on the Adventure Generator Tables in the d30 sandbox Companion to get some ideas. As usual, not all of the results got used, but it was good to have things to riff off as it progressed.<br /><br />1d30--<br /><b>Trigger:</b> summoned by group<br /><b>Goal: </b>investigate location<br /><b>Obstacle: </b>find hidden/lost entrance<br /><b>Location: </b>stronghold<br /><b>Loc. feature: </b>gallery<br /><b>Phenomena: </b>disembodied voices<br /><b>Villain goal/reason: </b>domination/control<br /><b>Artefact: </b>necklace<br /><b>Theme: </b>darkness/night<br /><b>Key NPC:</b> scribe<br /><br />To set the first scene, I asked the Oracle--<br /><br />Q: Who are the group from the Trigger result? <span style="font-family: georgia;">Ministers of a superior Order</span> = a political cabal within the local council<br />Q: Whom do they contact? (1d4) 1 Athalie, 2 Bassianus, 3 Isabeau, 4 all at once: Isabeau<br />Q: Why exactly? <span style="font-family: georgia;">penal Effects</span> - she's behind in her council tax payments.<br /><br />Here follow the PCs' updated character sheets, and new portraits to show them maturing with the rise in levels. The adventure continues below.]</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDFFw46b6E3QqDbJ5qG22LV6PJih1Y4D-0_GRKTNvZSZSTkALvJ_Ux4Zy9Q2wmZHhKSoZI83LOVZNFJypAyY7dliYnRlB6L0yb6vG7P7pkcVqkFgUKzRFCbJ_uzusNAuz3Ti90nvO4VIu2on4-qIgNXBY31nmy2nZyrJsZ40KoeZUMrn39pHPBcmle-K8/s800/level%20up%20athalie.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="699" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDFFw46b6E3QqDbJ5qG22LV6PJih1Y4D-0_GRKTNvZSZSTkALvJ_Ux4Zy9Q2wmZHhKSoZI83LOVZNFJypAyY7dliYnRlB6L0yb6vG7P7pkcVqkFgUKzRFCbJ_uzusNAuz3Ti90nvO4VIu2on4-qIgNXBY31nmy2nZyrJsZ40KoeZUMrn39pHPBcmle-K8/s400/level%20up%20athalie.jpg"/></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Athalie<br />STR 13, DEX 14, WIL 17, 10 HP<br />pistol (d6), sword (d6), steel wire, scented candle, 8s<br />Ugly Mutation (crableg-claw d6, no fine manipulation, 2-h mêlée weapons Impaired)</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCJ1hnE9_dQbHHvOWj7VAETILcYXUvbrw1rxI1VaAeXHtrQ7PP2gyGjMLpmk_A3ZM-6X6FbzWX6s1CKFcasaeLGkBqJ_DX_B5UsYA8xAep9ypu1XZdA-9cJq7UYXIYxFvTqbVac86ej6sMeAhnARIq-r6lwgTQupbQ4HvWDdhf2D1mPZnTrbszsU6KDE/s738/level%20up%20bassianus.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="738" data-original-width="646" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCJ1hnE9_dQbHHvOWj7VAETILcYXUvbrw1rxI1VaAeXHtrQ7PP2gyGjMLpmk_A3ZM-6X6FbzWX6s1CKFcasaeLGkBqJ_DX_B5UsYA8xAep9ypu1XZdA-9cJq7UYXIYxFvTqbVac86ej6sMeAhnARIq-r6lwgTQupbQ4HvWDdhf2D1mPZnTrbszsU6KDE/s400/level%20up%20bassianus.jpg"/></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Bassianus<br />STR 6*, DEX 11, WIL 7, 4 HP<br />musket (d8), hatchet (d6), crowbar, flashbang<br />Pain Idol<br />*currently at 11 due to the effects of Titan Paste<br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXc-CNn7zO8AY6S2vDcylTtfE994fnsqAoaulf_XTb5aSFN92Iorx_tGTxQwgjuFUdMYf99Or2ipVRQuLITgQuSSH_Lflc7d1Hkm0DLU6tr3WGa0fmrWaZs4Ut-mD_qo-KQ6ro_OZVw4KNOFi2GW22YJtyRAfzagT0EbA3XxcVYnhQqUMojieuvEwxZ4/s800/level%20up%20isabeau.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" height="400" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="449" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXc-CNn7zO8AY6S2vDcylTtfE994fnsqAoaulf_XTb5aSFN92Iorx_tGTxQwgjuFUdMYf99Or2ipVRQuLITgQuSSH_Lflc7d1Hkm0DLU6tr3WGa0fmrWaZs4Ut-mD_qo-KQ6ro_OZVw4KNOFi2GW22YJtyRAfzagT0EbA3XxcVYnhQqUMojieuvEwxZ4/s400/level%20up%20isabeau.jpg"/></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Isabeau<br />STR 17, DEX 10, WIL 10, 9 HP<br />pistol (d6), sword (d6), acid, animal repellent, antitoxin, 4s<br />Prosthetic Hand </span><br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 2<br /><br />Chaos:</b> average (d10)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> to the library!<br /><br /><b>NPC List:</b> the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain, scribe, Mortine<br /><br /><b>Threads: </b>find lost entrance, investigate location<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The Quickest Route across Town: d%=up the hill, then back down]</span><br /><br />The library is just over the hill from the pub. Since everyone has already brought their gear with them, they set off straightaway.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: What happens as they go up? <span style="font-family: georgia;">Suppose every charitable Disposition</span> - chuggers]</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaOKzxZ0KuzPZjw987kOTzRsIbNqqtUQqfZca7Fr6g-L9VyZSDliLTm19DaJp1d5gF_-1ayyQ8DCbJu5Fm5BcaYsx2OyywHvbsf1mqzcI4KfzGukt1mDaGfh95H8e-bNduRCzXbWI5TMYCPapmguNlYXcbYaFM2J1_N3Ab-_u9MPji93asX5SjhTE21Y/s644/chuggers.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="644" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKaOKzxZ0KuzPZjw987kOTzRsIbNqqtUQqfZca7Fr6g-L9VyZSDliLTm19DaJp1d5gF_-1ayyQ8DCbJu5Fm5BcaYsx2OyywHvbsf1mqzcI4KfzGukt1mDaGfh95H8e-bNduRCzXbWI5TMYCPapmguNlYXcbYaFM2J1_N3Ab-_u9MPji93asX5SjhTE21Y/s400/chuggers.jpg"/></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Chuggers<br />STR 8, DEX 12, WIL 8, 1hp<br />Driven to collect from all passers-by. Will attack unless the target signs their petition, incurring a debt of 1d100 shillings.<br />Truncheon (d6), Never check morale, Critical damage Impairs their attacks but does not cause unconsciousness</span><br /><br />The mid-day crowds are not so dense as to impede movement for a change. But halfway up the hill, the explorers are greeted by a terrifying sight. About a dozen persons in smart clothing, all sporting the same bright yellow cap, are accosting all passers-by, clip-boards at the ready. Those who do not donate to their cause are swiftly beaten down by their wooden truncheons. Many try to flee, and some even fight back, but there is no single way past them up the hill.<br /><br />"Everyone split up!" says Bassianus. "It will be easier to evade their clutches if we go singly. Now, move!"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[To manoeuvre past, each party member needs to make both a WIL save (finding a clear route) and a DEX save (dodging past). A 2,14 ok; B 15,15 fail; I13, 12 fail, M 2,3 ok]</span><br /><br />Athalie winds through the throng, dashing past a slower pedestrian to leave them firmly in the sights of a descending clipboard. Mortine slaps Chatterton on the bottom, and sprints after her squealing pig. Having to leap out of the way of the beast unbalances several chuggers long enough that they can't catch her.<br /><br />Bassianus is not so fortunate. <span style="color: #800180;">[1d3=]</span> A pair of crossed clipboards bar his way, as a pen is held out accusingly towards him. "Spare a coin for the victims of Tinea Pedis?" Isabeau is not far behind him, having been stopped by <span style="color: #800180;">[1d3=]</span> two more of the brutes, one of whom is even now telling her she has a kind face. A fight to the death ensues.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br />Bassianus responds with his hatchet, splintering one of the clipboards and bloodying the hand carrying it <span style="color: #800180;">[2 damage, critical (attacks now impaired)]</span>. The chuggers belabour him with their truncheons <span style="color: #800180;">[4+3dmg to 0hp, 7STR, no crit]</span> but he does not fall. <br /><br />Meanwhile Isabeau is locked in battle with the other pair. "Die, you fiend!" she screams as she thrusts her sword, but it is deftly parried by her opponent <span style="color: #800180;">[1 damage]</span>. "You have a really great style," comes the rejoinder. Their counter-attacks are largely ineffectual <span style="color: #800180;">[1+3 damage, she's down to 5hp]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br />Bassianus fears for his life. He takes the flashbang from his belt and throws it down before him. The chuggers are momentarily blinded, and he escapes in the chaos.<br /><br />Isabeau nearly severs her first assailant's arm at the shoulder <span style="color: #800180;">[6dmg to 4 STR, crit]</span>, but he only screams out in pain, "it's less than the price of a cup of coffee per week!" and, like his fellow, continues raining blows down upon her. Fortunately she receives only a few minor bruises, fending off the worst of it with her sword. <span style="color: #800180;">[2+2=4dmg, 1hp left]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 3]</span><br />Athalie sees Isabeau is in real trouble, and takes careful aim with her new pistol. The shot rigs out, and <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage to 1d2=]</span> the injured chugger drops like a sack of pamphlets at Isabeau's feet. Isabeau lays into the other, who is bloodied but undaunted <span style="color: #800180;">[5 dmg, no crit]</span>. Isabeau stagers back under the furious assault, but parries every blow <span style="color: #800180;">[1dmg to 0hp]</span>. Bassianus unlimbers the musket from his back.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 4]</span><br />Bassianus' ball speeds through the brain of Isabeau's last assailant <span style="color: #800180;">[7 damage kills]</span>. She scurries away whilst the rest of the chuggers are either still blinded or signing up other prey.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Any repercussions from fighting in the street? 50/50 (4+): O3 C0 - no (neither accolade nor reproach)<br />Q: What happens going down hill? <span style="font-family: georgia;">silent Even or Morn</span>]</span><br /><br />Once again together, the little band crest the top of the hill and go down the other side. The street through which their route takes them is completely deserted. No lights in the windows, no pedestrians on the pavement nor carriages in the street -- not even rats in the gutter. Everywhere is stillness and silence. Unnerving, unnatural silence.<br /><br />Their pace increases. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYtWEAwe7g8u0skIAbmHHvVR-ZPI3Eqo43_MHmRdYObJ1u7bP7NP3rcecDQ5OLuu9kJvLOC-KqTMp0IkQXs1COayY5xU9wR9EQCQXRsk7GsOOpX0wcjX6crGRydiIghQ21k-yGwGcKoNhS09rTMTpm8wHusn8UHlGqbvdC4g2LIP-sohMDztC80w3cdE/s503/chatterton.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="400" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="503" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfYtWEAwe7g8u0skIAbmHHvVR-ZPI3Eqo43_MHmRdYObJ1u7bP7NP3rcecDQ5OLuu9kJvLOC-KqTMp0IkQXs1COayY5xU9wR9EQCQXRsk7GsOOpX0wcjX6crGRydiIghQ21k-yGwGcKoNhS09rTMTpm8wHusn8UHlGqbvdC4g2LIP-sohMDztC80w3cdE/s400/chatterton.jpg"/></a></div><br /><i>next post: from Library to Underground</i> Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-62217180011353769292023-09-06T20:20:00.003+01:002023-09-07T16:58:57.375+01:00literary classics part 3 (of 3)<p> </p>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZNgv8jP8NzwQccfhzpiUArQXfMclQWlXLIFJ0FGJiQs4WWf3OaHKOL4dhtjwhW3KOIKc8R6VIbIBJOaTCWB10oUviYwyx3Y1Qz9k1aBd_5ekw7Fg7EAOLyVfI_asDSRHrxo9E30y7xoE4abiJZgm5xfDmjYu2ZtNC0kKGVtkXQ1_ihR7M5MR0ofS0eU/s842/fleurs%20du%20mal.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="842" data-original-width="508" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZNgv8jP8NzwQccfhzpiUArQXfMclQWlXLIFJ0FGJiQs4WWf3OaHKOL4dhtjwhW3KOIKc8R6VIbIBJOaTCWB10oUviYwyx3Y1Qz9k1aBd_5ekw7Fg7EAOLyVfI_asDSRHrxo9E30y7xoE4abiJZgm5xfDmjYu2ZtNC0kKGVtkXQ1_ihR7M5MR0ofS0eU/s600/fleurs%20du%20mal.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flowers of Evil</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br /><span><a name='more'></a>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7RQIfxTkC9RIW4N_ubNUV3Oz-qXhIl2LOKwiNSpAMfIn36x8_mPhcv3TNILZI2kbEDV8J0EF2XvbQJ8VeeYh2TZWl6Wa0yvi4Pb355iroHykXusbs0LODN9lp3ZjEDXV7Vm_q57nmwXPOtnkrzWvxHXUe9CWnjBvPLQ0lrK2pdkHM2lWzoNB7tvsIREk/s841/a%20rebours.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7RQIfxTkC9RIW4N_ubNUV3Oz-qXhIl2LOKwiNSpAMfIn36x8_mPhcv3TNILZI2kbEDV8J0EF2XvbQJ8VeeYh2TZWl6Wa0yvi4Pb355iroHykXusbs0LODN9lp3ZjEDXV7Vm_q57nmwXPOtnkrzWvxHXUe9CWnjBvPLQ0lrK2pdkHM2lWzoNB7tvsIREk/s600/a%20rebours.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Against Nature</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGbyEU7UE29uSTpOkVMNe4bBBmTq8fQ5ZXo30R52d4B2G4JzvvStgYMkdmWWgYExYyZ8nvZpII6kQYO2Eiy_I4DoYcDPUPABN5ex5RzvffbnSJployrH7nXsf2nml1xzABh26xmsnp63V6vy9JS1_3A1p5sGNEaRC1R3VjtJDss6wo9jYQyJygogQ_Og/s840/also%20sprach%20zarathustra.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="551" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGbyEU7UE29uSTpOkVMNe4bBBmTq8fQ5ZXo30R52d4B2G4JzvvStgYMkdmWWgYExYyZ8nvZpII6kQYO2Eiy_I4DoYcDPUPABN5ex5RzvffbnSJployrH7nXsf2nml1xzABh26xmsnp63V6vy9JS1_3A1p5sGNEaRC1R3VjtJDss6wo9jYQyJygogQ_Og/s600/also%20sprach%20zarathustra.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thus spake Zarathustra</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsAvv5odQXwZFAobI8gGACA2dxx2133NmtgcuaDP200hk_dpuVd01IqRHdIrvh-MejEJWC7O8wzGIsQKJH0xheIPaZU53tC_YXUVaM5i_XS8piVUgck7W2ONtOgLqdLzIhdt6E6GvO8KTZicBDNgCrAroXpsVaQRnv6mKhM2QSsy7h6VGXWSH2xMyfvs/s840/die%20judenbuche.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="594" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizsAvv5odQXwZFAobI8gGACA2dxx2133NmtgcuaDP200hk_dpuVd01IqRHdIrvh-MejEJWC7O8wzGIsQKJH0xheIPaZU53tC_YXUVaM5i_XS8piVUgck7W2ONtOgLqdLzIhdt6E6GvO8KTZicBDNgCrAroXpsVaQRnv6mKhM2QSsy7h6VGXWSH2xMyfvs/s600/die%20judenbuche.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Jew's Beech</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYldqM7CNfp6aSFWn-he88YJnr42Rc2bKB71UffF8SoIpXWcWLFgFAS1gDCqckj7zK9Bt-ANnHPq1GNpwDTUDa7q3qmfEWrceBuq0mx178dqhJEq8XIOMCm-5gjVp2LHVE4g7c7vLhbg4OuibGpDvgUrMMrSQ2oWIw6F3CUuLVf80NXpQuYeF_BARhUKM/s841/atala_rene.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYldqM7CNfp6aSFWn-he88YJnr42Rc2bKB71UffF8SoIpXWcWLFgFAS1gDCqckj7zK9Bt-ANnHPq1GNpwDTUDa7q3qmfEWrceBuq0mx178dqhJEq8XIOMCm-5gjVp2LHVE4g7c7vLhbg4OuibGpDvgUrMMrSQ2oWIw6F3CUuLVf80NXpQuYeF_BARhUKM/s600/atala_rene.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Atala<br />followed by<br />René</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFVxVEiTNRs0Txdyfci-KCaewnT9dIt0oub62b81oI1iVy8kqmer0ukrK7sPWFgEZek25FRUgK-OBTSZloIB1bnFYC1H39vgl-N_ZPJC2FfJ-8qteCwqx6cvJFZHwn43lzKhG2zvjXpVOTX76JWq2vk--awF9VswdaKPS7ADhLmY-OligV1ev1s8SJykU/s841/la%20femme%20cachee.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFVxVEiTNRs0Txdyfci-KCaewnT9dIt0oub62b81oI1iVy8kqmer0ukrK7sPWFgEZek25FRUgK-OBTSZloIB1bnFYC1H39vgl-N_ZPJC2FfJ-8qteCwqx6cvJFZHwn43lzKhG2zvjXpVOTX76JWq2vk--awF9VswdaKPS7ADhLmY-OligV1ev1s8SJykU/s600/la%20femme%20cachee.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Hidden Woman</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkxrLk7iTIZoj33E3wpgzvI6RU47rxFY3XrNWn2bC96uxqxPS1kzec8E4ZNMUR9AE0uNwvC2Gx7U2QnbdKJn_OEpVuK9UvsOWBnnAVRazGo_s07Haj7DJs8MdCt1Y91jWdLTVTU_kW0_N2l9QT9p-y5s_BXyq9Kurh78qNIogE0O25fMIaz4vEYyZktI/s841/corinne.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkxrLk7iTIZoj33E3wpgzvI6RU47rxFY3XrNWn2bC96uxqxPS1kzec8E4ZNMUR9AE0uNwvC2Gx7U2QnbdKJn_OEpVuK9UvsOWBnnAVRazGo_s07Haj7DJs8MdCt1Y91jWdLTVTU_kW0_N2l9QT9p-y5s_BXyq9Kurh78qNIogE0O25fMIaz4vEYyZktI/s600/corinne.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corinne<br />or,<br />Italy</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjVc5jlYH18grY_d_WIYZgb7Zkw7KgbuR8H1i_VrOswVaA9Y9Yy4i0faWNOUv7EojlFpKuh-l3wrii1gQdn5YyTA0oZ2fUXMP663Qf9Dmzu_QFxQKVJuzCo9hBkzgHwV2osn6hfCADfZtMBcWs2Oa9IcJXy5Nq-bHr0OrxyJDBtYVJbYCFTXC9KO1Nsk/s841/dame%20aux%20camelias.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAjVc5jlYH18grY_d_WIYZgb7Zkw7KgbuR8H1i_VrOswVaA9Y9Yy4i0faWNOUv7EojlFpKuh-l3wrii1gQdn5YyTA0oZ2fUXMP663Qf9Dmzu_QFxQKVJuzCo9hBkzgHwV2osn6hfCADfZtMBcWs2Oa9IcJXy5Nq-bHr0OrxyJDBtYVJbYCFTXC9KO1Nsk/s600/dame%20aux%20camelias.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2TiFTZRVVfc3FCdWDFTRagnm-tlttwJtwZ3J2xmnQlZmYITW5praVcjZ3JkDtsDhZ4a7ME_HxAoPDhzzQ9bFA6bXfK_L5H8A7TG9s_E2w1M3rL6NYqq83g6QENQZgIebKqivxIoFqaV39Kx1ISTzugMIXR2ageK3pa4bY5AGzajRjW51AnmeKx8dX9M/s841/der%20prozess.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="555" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH2TiFTZRVVfc3FCdWDFTRagnm-tlttwJtwZ3J2xmnQlZmYITW5praVcjZ3JkDtsDhZ4a7ME_HxAoPDhzzQ9bFA6bXfK_L5H8A7TG9s_E2w1M3rL6NYqq83g6QENQZgIebKqivxIoFqaV39Kx1ISTzugMIXR2ageK3pa4bY5AGzajRjW51AnmeKx8dX9M/s600/der%20prozess.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Trial</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyosmPQKyrG5MkmQQEF-QigcdJr8VNju--oRORsYQrpalh19xDNXTw1Io6LqFjwLR5NykgzzShVZEAdcf5lrGSFnV0Xs0RNVAbYUIJrAHITIV17SQQku7fcU1Lmgok1vSqmV8wLRcZzBxwXalcrNgNqlEodBhXvegtbHwe8dukAkoOVHYoQc0vNw8v8gw/s841/princesse%20de%20cleves.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyosmPQKyrG5MkmQQEF-QigcdJr8VNju--oRORsYQrpalh19xDNXTw1Io6LqFjwLR5NykgzzShVZEAdcf5lrGSFnV0Xs0RNVAbYUIJrAHITIV17SQQku7fcU1Lmgok1vSqmV8wLRcZzBxwXalcrNgNqlEodBhXvegtbHwe8dukAkoOVHYoQc0vNw8v8gw/s600/princesse%20de%20cleves.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFOwiEaLymlRYW08mePS6W2QhVhU66-WONj_K9weang_ww6N_Fm4r7SLv5Nlf30jGkFuhxfi66D3MzLBRl-skFNGfFhbkBdig9IfM9PAumZhZbDgMn3nI9nWMHCm3PaW0C8_3opqCbYOFLeO16uNIbJUZVawX2QdXZd9lqMiq8uzQmaitfJc8f5kcRAI/s840/angst.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="551" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFOwiEaLymlRYW08mePS6W2QhVhU66-WONj_K9weang_ww6N_Fm4r7SLv5Nlf30jGkFuhxfi66D3MzLBRl-skFNGfFhbkBdig9IfM9PAumZhZbDgMn3nI9nWMHCm3PaW0C8_3opqCbYOFLeO16uNIbJUZVawX2QdXZd9lqMiq8uzQmaitfJc8f5kcRAI/s600/angst.jpg" /></a></div>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKO4LkratQVi5WOW-ccxn8qOyUAxAusJS32ea4_mh6_P3vSBQsH-y4ob3d-WR4WK_zJ5UfogGD3Q_G95IA1b0L7feBqOzjnXkV02zMeuYve4q-5IaE43VnFwm3mvjLKAdPdwvczgz2BViuhTVtJrHr9UUf555Y7kxtDNqhMaMK4eHPI5KmhLQdiuR_ZRM/s841/histoire%20de%20ma%20vie.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKO4LkratQVi5WOW-ccxn8qOyUAxAusJS32ea4_mh6_P3vSBQsH-y4ob3d-WR4WK_zJ5UfogGD3Q_G95IA1b0L7feBqOzjnXkV02zMeuYve4q-5IaE43VnFwm3mvjLKAdPdwvczgz2BViuhTVtJrHr9UUf555Y7kxtDNqhMaMK4eHPI5KmhLQdiuR_ZRM/s600/histoire%20de%20ma%20vie.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Story of my Life</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRq8DMDhZ_-FGlOho6G57tS1pnuGbqDTEZZdYLzNb6s8DDsc6t0BJ8AirQRVuLDB1RFyVfjxue3eOqzfMsFXusjq9ksGctZOy4yKCos0e-8yUyiRizGBCWbeAhNKUuAfnNJ9LMfmgIigD8FWVwIijiHPyvqqCr87hkAOmWppy2gBlfK-WyCczzuYwMz-0/s841/portraits_de_femmes.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRq8DMDhZ_-FGlOho6G57tS1pnuGbqDTEZZdYLzNb6s8DDsc6t0BJ8AirQRVuLDB1RFyVfjxue3eOqzfMsFXusjq9ksGctZOy4yKCos0e-8yUyiRizGBCWbeAhNKUuAfnNJ9LMfmgIigD8FWVwIijiHPyvqqCr87hkAOmWppy2gBlfK-WyCczzuYwMz-0/s600/portraits_de_femmes.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portraits of Women</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmy9fdRNvbZtUYHpjr3mu4ja1jpNcRYtBMVSlR02vUPzHS_LMPJRViaJLitiDWXpUE1ddeJShz7lW_SwMlGKX-eG_yJB2_9hbJC97q-5QI86-vvwtUanNCeQ4HZuVlpKISUdqqMuht7wIiQ-dDyPmjv9S0qkkSCtx19bP4Cuq3anvvCEolLvRJQr7fBE/s840/die-leiden-des-jungen-werthers.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="552" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmy9fdRNvbZtUYHpjr3mu4ja1jpNcRYtBMVSlR02vUPzHS_LMPJRViaJLitiDWXpUE1ddeJShz7lW_SwMlGKX-eG_yJB2_9hbJC97q-5QI86-vvwtUanNCeQ4HZuVlpKISUdqqMuht7wIiQ-dDyPmjv9S0qkkSCtx19bP4Cuq3anvvCEolLvRJQr7fBE/s600/die-leiden-des-jungen-werthers.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sorrows of Young Werther</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJlpzt7BzFeRyMDTMiKEnezJLtS3IxNLNz19OoekqHQ6sK_EaCewk4ASwx9tAK_xwZu7X-S5TkzIS3I5WdJj-N4ZhzzYOTDLbm1eZbizDWOniqUfXQU6yHBUuFZbfcmQ5EQ0AF3C8s3njm8fyvodwxWOWUXiTRBFF5JwFESdxFR-CZQ8PUk6__lme_xUs/s840/une%20saison%20en%20enfer.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJlpzt7BzFeRyMDTMiKEnezJLtS3IxNLNz19OoekqHQ6sK_EaCewk4ASwx9tAK_xwZu7X-S5TkzIS3I5WdJj-N4ZhzzYOTDLbm1eZbizDWOniqUfXQU6yHBUuFZbfcmQ5EQ0AF3C8s3njm8fyvodwxWOWUXiTRBFF5JwFESdxFR-CZQ8PUk6__lme_xUs/s600/une%20saison%20en%20enfer.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poetry<br />A Season in Hell<br />Illuminations</td></tr></tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP-6mQRdlob6aIKR_WSBIkka90mg6Zy1a9KRiSz-53VwrGrYtgkJnPHGoqVP3ITE149ZlhIhkJ0ctKTPGvco7JlSjQhfHfDeNVZsPZ-d5radwAzILGLVOOA0a5_MF3civx9ZTjh38d9P-ukQyoUaMjcjDXBqETwc2tKfyaxU7xtXrKFkOabBFLN-2MVVA/s841/du_cote_de_chez_swann.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP-6mQRdlob6aIKR_WSBIkka90mg6Zy1a9KRiSz-53VwrGrYtgkJnPHGoqVP3ITE149ZlhIhkJ0ctKTPGvco7JlSjQhfHfDeNVZsPZ-d5radwAzILGLVOOA0a5_MF3civx9ZTjh38d9P-ukQyoUaMjcjDXBqETwc2tKfyaxU7xtXrKFkOabBFLN-2MVVA/s600/du_cote_de_chez_swann.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swann's Way</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP-6mQRdlob6aIKR_WSBIkka90mg6Zy1a9KRiSz-53VwrGrYtgkJnPHGoqVP3ITE149ZlhIhkJ0ctKTPGvco7JlSjQhfHfDeNVZsPZ-d5radwAzILGLVOOA0a5_MF3civx9ZTjh38d9P-ukQyoUaMjcjDXBqETwc2tKfyaxU7xtXrKFkOabBFLN-2MVVA/s841/du_cote_de_chez_swann.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP-6mQRdlob6aIKR_WSBIkka90mg6Zy1a9KRiSz-53VwrGrYtgkJnPHGoqVP3ITE149ZlhIhkJ0ctKTPGvco7JlSjQhfHfDeNVZsPZ-d5radwAzILGLVOOA0a5_MF3civx9ZTjh38d9P-ukQyoUaMjcjDXBqETwc2tKfyaxU7xtXrKFkOabBFLN-2MVVA/s841/du_cote_de_chez_swann.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div></span>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-47580924389597267122023-09-03T10:36:00.001+01:002023-09-03T10:36:14.503+01:00literary classics part 2 (of 3)<p> </p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZeGrQmgyMmDSVRVURk-K1cQphcrJckG43xpF61MfLOouqySYVT9lVLCATCnVVK5XJR6mMRhQMrV4_1DSl1McEZzCFyrWff13P-ZJ_tKCmA4SBOH01V3b256qKdwSJO9oeXUUT7AwZj_aVZ3AWEyQK3I1e-HvH8I5WIiFDwUaZpLyD5qs5CvdHGNLM-hg/s1224/a_room_with_a_view.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZeGrQmgyMmDSVRVURk-K1cQphcrJckG43xpF61MfLOouqySYVT9lVLCATCnVVK5XJR6mMRhQMrV4_1DSl1McEZzCFyrWff13P-ZJ_tKCmA4SBOH01V3b256qKdwSJO9oeXUUT7AwZj_aVZ3AWEyQK3I1e-HvH8I5WIiFDwUaZpLyD5qs5CvdHGNLM-hg/s600/a_room_with_a_view.jpeg" /></a><span><a name='more'></a></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZeGrQmgyMmDSVRVURk-K1cQphcrJckG43xpF61MfLOouqySYVT9lVLCATCnVVK5XJR6mMRhQMrV4_1DSl1McEZzCFyrWff13P-ZJ_tKCmA4SBOH01V3b256qKdwSJO9oeXUUT7AwZj_aVZ3AWEyQK3I1e-HvH8I5WIiFDwUaZpLyD5qs5CvdHGNLM-hg/s1224/a_room_with_a_view.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFv40vrBCGnL5PPCczGL3G3aE87ezqWyEbxkIDcTgNg1tPxtNsNFmXk-Ec8P018KFSwiZCJuwBRm5s64yUruaLWRKKUodpNHXAT3RQZ_bawfl23cTeJfOFwcsv2VjOurXUxP2A2r1dZXRgQ4ex9Nf4-xlCLSnNdgg2iGl_VyVMti4OvQy8f298EsCvLl8/s1224/evelina.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFv40vrBCGnL5PPCczGL3G3aE87ezqWyEbxkIDcTgNg1tPxtNsNFmXk-Ec8P018KFSwiZCJuwBRm5s64yUruaLWRKKUodpNHXAT3RQZ_bawfl23cTeJfOFwcsv2VjOurXUxP2A2r1dZXRgQ4ex9Nf4-xlCLSnNdgg2iGl_VyVMti4OvQy8f298EsCvLl8/s600/evelina.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZlvHetPx8G0n3q-Wlz-YOXwyyNw_u1QWhaZn7nIaii4BnYUC8QLs-H8VN4m7p9BxiDeIVY-oJenNBkO9mCSGdIYFxBeOZWOw_fDCd9p3w7TF_wgF7tcMjc4-3xgIGL-yH6UEjruw14E3FmeR5fqT4_-50i3Vwn48ZqmHeJHcVEZa2_tNrDKQ9CylevKA/s1224/hard_times.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZlvHetPx8G0n3q-Wlz-YOXwyyNw_u1QWhaZn7nIaii4BnYUC8QLs-H8VN4m7p9BxiDeIVY-oJenNBkO9mCSGdIYFxBeOZWOw_fDCd9p3w7TF_wgF7tcMjc4-3xgIGL-yH6UEjruw14E3FmeR5fqT4_-50i3Vwn48ZqmHeJHcVEZa2_tNrDKQ9CylevKA/s1224/hard_times.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZlvHetPx8G0n3q-Wlz-YOXwyyNw_u1QWhaZn7nIaii4BnYUC8QLs-H8VN4m7p9BxiDeIVY-oJenNBkO9mCSGdIYFxBeOZWOw_fDCd9p3w7TF_wgF7tcMjc4-3xgIGL-yH6UEjruw14E3FmeR5fqT4_-50i3Vwn48ZqmHeJHcVEZa2_tNrDKQ9CylevKA/s600/hard_times.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglDtcxfUfkGGm8UZ3IHu0mmr_5iPWnyd5eULLODAUyXxSnBfSVpX8EdXdMIoPEeFKWG3brmkxdsdBmeB_U8B7fedpuY6-FnZ_SuCDg82oATEXALjtcwvz-TDUjCQch0fUHhyYEnUa3sa7KWl7EehReMr4Ye3reFZnQtNeqd-UJ6-IkKKlxM8sF9I3EsJU/s1224/the_awakening.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglDtcxfUfkGGm8UZ3IHu0mmr_5iPWnyd5eULLODAUyXxSnBfSVpX8EdXdMIoPEeFKWG3brmkxdsdBmeB_U8B7fedpuY6-FnZ_SuCDg82oATEXALjtcwvz-TDUjCQch0fUHhyYEnUa3sa7KWl7EehReMr4Ye3reFZnQtNeqd-UJ6-IkKKlxM8sF9I3EsJU/s1224/the_awakening.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglDtcxfUfkGGm8UZ3IHu0mmr_5iPWnyd5eULLODAUyXxSnBfSVpX8EdXdMIoPEeFKWG3brmkxdsdBmeB_U8B7fedpuY6-FnZ_SuCDg82oATEXALjtcwvz-TDUjCQch0fUHhyYEnUa3sa7KWl7EehReMr4Ye3reFZnQtNeqd-UJ6-IkKKlxM8sF9I3EsJU/s600/the_awakening.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8EZakUq7Qvz1BawRxrsJ8K8sNkiCbU4Pa0k0OGiDIh2qNgtR5lUzUzP3PIAWwdhEqsseWInScJrvjR7NpsetexOwgGQ5IZbxCj4pwTjn7iMtWz1-LL661SRZvv-iqgYzkDuHDgIN6fMBV9dqYVVoAAKHbX4OuKaMk87FfBYSkqdExp5FcjVKujCBWKRA/s1224/the_immoralist.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8EZakUq7Qvz1BawRxrsJ8K8sNkiCbU4Pa0k0OGiDIh2qNgtR5lUzUzP3PIAWwdhEqsseWInScJrvjR7NpsetexOwgGQ5IZbxCj4pwTjn7iMtWz1-LL661SRZvv-iqgYzkDuHDgIN6fMBV9dqYVVoAAKHbX4OuKaMk87FfBYSkqdExp5FcjVKujCBWKRA/s1224/the_immoralist.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8EZakUq7Qvz1BawRxrsJ8K8sNkiCbU4Pa0k0OGiDIh2qNgtR5lUzUzP3PIAWwdhEqsseWInScJrvjR7NpsetexOwgGQ5IZbxCj4pwTjn7iMtWz1-LL661SRZvv-iqgYzkDuHDgIN6fMBV9dqYVVoAAKHbX4OuKaMk87FfBYSkqdExp5FcjVKujCBWKRA/s600/the_immoralist.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlRkM_qYcvbNLEfH8WdJrn9s97_Ug2lVf97tgD31mS1T35-8eYS-kblQs6v93mAPsWvJS348A0TN0oRt9dYVbSGaOk9SJRjwIR0JanfCQJSoorEAjM4mP0C5JJ81gL1SE5uAzbmvFX7-2Y1t4Qu6Vd1pL29lYjdGvCypJG605SpcWJsksqw2elHlt5IY/s1224/anna_karenina.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlRkM_qYcvbNLEfH8WdJrn9s97_Ug2lVf97tgD31mS1T35-8eYS-kblQs6v93mAPsWvJS348A0TN0oRt9dYVbSGaOk9SJRjwIR0JanfCQJSoorEAjM4mP0C5JJ81gL1SE5uAzbmvFX7-2Y1t4Qu6Vd1pL29lYjdGvCypJG605SpcWJsksqw2elHlt5IY/s1224/anna_karenina.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlRkM_qYcvbNLEfH8WdJrn9s97_Ug2lVf97tgD31mS1T35-8eYS-kblQs6v93mAPsWvJS348A0TN0oRt9dYVbSGaOk9SJRjwIR0JanfCQJSoorEAjM4mP0C5JJ81gL1SE5uAzbmvFX7-2Y1t4Qu6Vd1pL29lYjdGvCypJG605SpcWJsksqw2elHlt5IY/s600/anna_karenina.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg60M9XivKhPxTHRNMxyUvjWKmydaCQN-BOSiqxS4_5Z6H-5BnHwPoLbAtuan6qw9WippinIhcsEF2bQVGpNEClBJsgFzhN-tTNnXbGIHZZcXfByvqKYrE9hTLer7cE6EyjD2QQTQeI_7-_qX8-NQ9R8TZYWQv4F4u5s-F1Fj7UqaYo2X6BN1jfh6PQoSo/s1224/the_life_and_opinions_of_tristram_shandy,_gentleman.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg60M9XivKhPxTHRNMxyUvjWKmydaCQN-BOSiqxS4_5Z6H-5BnHwPoLbAtuan6qw9WippinIhcsEF2bQVGpNEClBJsgFzhN-tTNnXbGIHZZcXfByvqKYrE9hTLer7cE6EyjD2QQTQeI_7-_qX8-NQ9R8TZYWQv4F4u5s-F1Fj7UqaYo2X6BN1jfh6PQoSo/s1224/the_life_and_opinions_of_tristram_shandy,_gentleman.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg60M9XivKhPxTHRNMxyUvjWKmydaCQN-BOSiqxS4_5Z6H-5BnHwPoLbAtuan6qw9WippinIhcsEF2bQVGpNEClBJsgFzhN-tTNnXbGIHZZcXfByvqKYrE9hTLer7cE6EyjD2QQTQeI_7-_qX8-NQ9R8TZYWQv4F4u5s-F1Fj7UqaYo2X6BN1jfh6PQoSo/s600/the_life_and_opinions_of_tristram_shandy,_gentleman.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrYyl8pnSSysusqRbhRcGTooBR8lq2iCulmU0-lH_yCLVQHyrcALSvqEPy_QOQTitqhNUb2BJ1l7n45zfas0pnJr2Pig50hJbHYhQAS-efxkGf_bbUKXwhvtzMJqqiaKIbK_refTZSg8Yn7oGDbthiNLNTz2g6chRETa-sWGpL56Kvr13xF-Jc9O1ym4/s1224/the_vicar_of_wakefield.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrYyl8pnSSysusqRbhRcGTooBR8lq2iCulmU0-lH_yCLVQHyrcALSvqEPy_QOQTitqhNUb2BJ1l7n45zfas0pnJr2Pig50hJbHYhQAS-efxkGf_bbUKXwhvtzMJqqiaKIbK_refTZSg8Yn7oGDbthiNLNTz2g6chRETa-sWGpL56Kvr13xF-Jc9O1ym4/s1224/the_vicar_of_wakefield.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPrYyl8pnSSysusqRbhRcGTooBR8lq2iCulmU0-lH_yCLVQHyrcALSvqEPy_QOQTitqhNUb2BJ1l7n45zfas0pnJr2Pig50hJbHYhQAS-efxkGf_bbUKXwhvtzMJqqiaKIbK_refTZSg8Yn7oGDbthiNLNTz2g6chRETa-sWGpL56Kvr13xF-Jc9O1ym4/s600/the_vicar_of_wakefield.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifZn06mYIm-nOQwFEzRS8jfOsbqZE_hCJvzr-QW0wdN9m9Ri4XSMZn2YY0eqKhoo9nlhk7iBQFM78Hg2I-QKfREzRB32WgDzZm78x9rNFwvgnqn_jsH12HYzSUWDmU63g-_oom2j91-3C2XdVM7aYDfOQWkrdrpD_0bAEVH6a8Z012vjzrQ7xTKy9W6QU/s1224/to_the_lighthouse.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifZn06mYIm-nOQwFEzRS8jfOsbqZE_hCJvzr-QW0wdN9m9Ri4XSMZn2YY0eqKhoo9nlhk7iBQFM78Hg2I-QKfREzRB32WgDzZm78x9rNFwvgnqn_jsH12HYzSUWDmU63g-_oom2j91-3C2XdVM7aYDfOQWkrdrpD_0bAEVH6a8Z012vjzrQ7xTKy9W6QU/s1224/to_the_lighthouse.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifZn06mYIm-nOQwFEzRS8jfOsbqZE_hCJvzr-QW0wdN9m9Ri4XSMZn2YY0eqKhoo9nlhk7iBQFM78Hg2I-QKfREzRB32WgDzZm78x9rNFwvgnqn_jsH12HYzSUWDmU63g-_oom2j91-3C2XdVM7aYDfOQWkrdrpD_0bAEVH6a8Z012vjzrQ7xTKy9W6QU/s600/to_the_lighthouse.jpeg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The Penguin cover generator is super fun and easy, but it occurred to me I could do the same thing with photoshop for other publishers with simple cover designs. The usual English translation(s) of the title will follow when it isn't just a name.</div><div><br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFoUexefunPqTVHxt0qsYhDEWigHNeUr0uWbRQrWSy4FB2xkJwOKUWLS_fGotO34u7hB3K3bRxYj8CtkPkd1MMD7ZSyvveuD55JmFh0Mv57W11FIWSOucUSSse4oFZhgHND0Pqa10ic5HU9PhX2sXPxZcubJBbmO8I23r3HS_othkHxbhlKhVlDeL9UI/s840/SCHACHNOVELLE.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="541" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFoUexefunPqTVHxt0qsYhDEWigHNeUr0uWbRQrWSy4FB2xkJwOKUWLS_fGotO34u7hB3K3bRxYj8CtkPkd1MMD7ZSyvveuD55JmFh0Mv57W11FIWSOucUSSse4oFZhgHND0Pqa10ic5HU9PhX2sXPxZcubJBbmO8I23r3HS_othkHxbhlKhVlDeL9UI/s600/SCHACHNOVELLE.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chess Story</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFoUexefunPqTVHxt0qsYhDEWigHNeUr0uWbRQrWSy4FB2xkJwOKUWLS_fGotO34u7hB3K3bRxYj8CtkPkd1MMD7ZSyvveuD55JmFh0Mv57W11FIWSOucUSSse4oFZhgHND0Pqa10ic5HU9PhX2sXPxZcubJBbmO8I23r3HS_othkHxbhlKhVlDeL9UI/s840/SCHACHNOVELLE.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7H9oKcnj1sgITbjJ5HM-K8-Ha8uptjZEYyo4MNzvVFdVlFTEZkPm9quiAMylcW-pMVc24CSa3L6Wtq3haortTx_I6uR9Zd1bwtkP90hhXwtndLfUfEcd7LTKDaefwoAEwKWC-hkaER0lVQAL12Ozz8Qjv2s4__ZTeGG2YhgZ10Lgbce4X8ZRfaQQiLw/s841/aus%20dem%20leben%20eines%20taugenichts.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="552" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx7H9oKcnj1sgITbjJ5HM-K8-Ha8uptjZEYyo4MNzvVFdVlFTEZkPm9quiAMylcW-pMVc24CSa3L6Wtq3haortTx_I6uR9Zd1bwtkP90hhXwtndLfUfEcd7LTKDaefwoAEwKWC-hkaER0lVQAL12Ozz8Qjv2s4__ZTeGG2YhgZ10Lgbce4X8ZRfaQQiLw/s600/aus%20dem%20leben%20eines%20taugenichts.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Memoirs of a Good-for-Nothing<br />(Leaves from) the Life of a Good-for-Nothing</td></tr></tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvIFx8TySq3eAtXXFLpdR7A3_00k1xPVferJjMDF1OnTaVa8Py70SzBD7S8PetUrtHTsi2UcNewB-ttaod-ugF9OpnHbbUefkY1kcB3aEGDwJBij7nHzHC4l9p6lUms0l4QZG0JBeoH7flZRH92kNogzVUwuAfnTpeKAZlJsMPEMZZjjd5Y9l7XhP6-gA/s840/hymnen%20an%20die%20nacht.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvIFx8TySq3eAtXXFLpdR7A3_00k1xPVferJjMDF1OnTaVa8Py70SzBD7S8PetUrtHTsi2UcNewB-ttaod-ugF9OpnHbbUefkY1kcB3aEGDwJBij7nHzHC4l9p6lUms0l4QZG0JBeoH7flZRH92kNogzVUwuAfnTpeKAZlJsMPEMZZjjd5Y9l7XhP6-gA/s840/hymnen%20an%20die%20nacht.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="556" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvIFx8TySq3eAtXXFLpdR7A3_00k1xPVferJjMDF1OnTaVa8Py70SzBD7S8PetUrtHTsi2UcNewB-ttaod-ugF9OpnHbbUefkY1kcB3aEGDwJBij7nHzHC4l9p6lUms0l4QZG0JBeoH7flZRH92kNogzVUwuAfnTpeKAZlJsMPEMZZjjd5Y9l7XhP6-gA/s600/hymnen%20an%20die%20nacht.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hymns to the Night</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvIFx8TySq3eAtXXFLpdR7A3_00k1xPVferJjMDF1OnTaVa8Py70SzBD7S8PetUrtHTsi2UcNewB-ttaod-ugF9OpnHbbUefkY1kcB3aEGDwJBij7nHzHC4l9p6lUms0l4QZG0JBeoH7flZRH92kNogzVUwuAfnTpeKAZlJsMPEMZZjjd5Y9l7XhP6-gA/s840/hymnen%20an%20die%20nacht.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijphEcupj92F5UvO0JeRzGocj3RJN2AYfbXPYeYEZ5hkw6uOKAXkiGAVzTKgt2W4BslfWbuoWoFkfI7zRnUSYOPdOIllWq5HrnCkW5pY6S5y9ry3YQIfanPvjEO5BNlC8RBlkDDsTpzKdz6YYCCL8qu2coVK2JF-frxLfgIc9A2w0r5bronMMxB6r3WTo/s840/wallenstein.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijphEcupj92F5UvO0JeRzGocj3RJN2AYfbXPYeYEZ5hkw6uOKAXkiGAVzTKgt2W4BslfWbuoWoFkfI7zRnUSYOPdOIllWq5HrnCkW5pY6S5y9ry3YQIfanPvjEO5BNlC8RBlkDDsTpzKdz6YYCCL8qu2coVK2JF-frxLfgIc9A2w0r5bronMMxB6r3WTo/s840/wallenstein.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="840" data-original-width="552" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijphEcupj92F5UvO0JeRzGocj3RJN2AYfbXPYeYEZ5hkw6uOKAXkiGAVzTKgt2W4BslfWbuoWoFkfI7zRnUSYOPdOIllWq5HrnCkW5pY6S5y9ry3YQIfanPvjEO5BNlC8RBlkDDsTpzKdz6YYCCL8qu2coVK2JF-frxLfgIc9A2w0r5bronMMxB6r3WTo/s600/wallenstein.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaE6Fh9wwuVWkGDxfhwQXMJ0OSmI71IBOeUaajIFGJwyP6anAX3n91_ETvBQa7Lakdl3M35lDxEZIMrMX5muitc7j2QtwZaw35p2sVxRuIIxkgVWrQsAq86a3xuXvcVG4N-SdI74-G4UbF4NquXCGp4BvSLi-kg_VFByJTlltSDcl9H0eC9NxJWnDyT9o/s841/aphrodite.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaE6Fh9wwuVWkGDxfhwQXMJ0OSmI71IBOeUaajIFGJwyP6anAX3n91_ETvBQa7Lakdl3M35lDxEZIMrMX5muitc7j2QtwZaw35p2sVxRuIIxkgVWrQsAq86a3xuXvcVG4N-SdI74-G4UbF4NquXCGp4BvSLi-kg_VFByJTlltSDcl9H0eC9NxJWnDyT9o/s841/aphrodite.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaE6Fh9wwuVWkGDxfhwQXMJ0OSmI71IBOeUaajIFGJwyP6anAX3n91_ETvBQa7Lakdl3M35lDxEZIMrMX5muitc7j2QtwZaw35p2sVxRuIIxkgVWrQsAq86a3xuXvcVG4N-SdI74-G4UbF4NquXCGp4BvSLi-kg_VFByJTlltSDcl9H0eC9NxJWnDyT9o/s600/aphrodite.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_BmR9q_T-lKD2aq8dMjNoRVsNN8QmjNsN-Di8tN9Xpuzk5u1Rw-hpXRfKax-WTGXU5f86N9jQa-KSaG7ejc4dzpFVf072gxw_6ds_et0AISaDHJcIOXqVvStptoRyQEmKVK4xuEsnYgLVahH8UGrc6YuksLEGNP089zQezX0aCwr6JEiXR7BDZ9USTM/s841/confessions%20augustine.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_BmR9q_T-lKD2aq8dMjNoRVsNN8QmjNsN-Di8tN9Xpuzk5u1Rw-hpXRfKax-WTGXU5f86N9jQa-KSaG7ejc4dzpFVf072gxw_6ds_et0AISaDHJcIOXqVvStptoRyQEmKVK4xuEsnYgLVahH8UGrc6YuksLEGNP089zQezX0aCwr6JEiXR7BDZ9USTM/s841/confessions%20augustine.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_BmR9q_T-lKD2aq8dMjNoRVsNN8QmjNsN-Di8tN9Xpuzk5u1Rw-hpXRfKax-WTGXU5f86N9jQa-KSaG7ejc4dzpFVf072gxw_6ds_et0AISaDHJcIOXqVvStptoRyQEmKVK4xuEsnYgLVahH8UGrc6YuksLEGNP089zQezX0aCwr6JEiXR7BDZ9USTM/s600/confessions%20augustine.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Confessions of St. Augustine</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_BmR9q_T-lKD2aq8dMjNoRVsNN8QmjNsN-Di8tN9Xpuzk5u1Rw-hpXRfKax-WTGXU5f86N9jQa-KSaG7ejc4dzpFVf072gxw_6ds_et0AISaDHJcIOXqVvStptoRyQEmKVK4xuEsnYgLVahH8UGrc6YuksLEGNP089zQezX0aCwr6JEiXR7BDZ9USTM/s841/confessions%20augustine.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKSS2_gdFaha4YXk1R0szk1RDb7T5K5vlLLXjp2owJ5vRRAdXl5hNUQwIT-Hf7YCHiXi0r8J7LbYVtnIDqsZVbBQ_pidEKzrSbXkcRX7QF-_HXo59Fpek7AM2Q6Z2_eYrMjqJBu46yI49ko3bwdI1r8KYXSSrgHNdfJasSS4sBFsz7YTijIZklfW6GTM/s841/maison_tellier.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKSS2_gdFaha4YXk1R0szk1RDb7T5K5vlLLXjp2owJ5vRRAdXl5hNUQwIT-Hf7YCHiXi0r8J7LbYVtnIDqsZVbBQ_pidEKzrSbXkcRX7QF-_HXo59Fpek7AM2Q6Z2_eYrMjqJBu46yI49ko3bwdI1r8KYXSSrgHNdfJasSS4sBFsz7YTijIZklfW6GTM/s841/maison_tellier.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="510" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKSS2_gdFaha4YXk1R0szk1RDb7T5K5vlLLXjp2owJ5vRRAdXl5hNUQwIT-Hf7YCHiXi0r8J7LbYVtnIDqsZVbBQ_pidEKzrSbXkcRX7QF-_HXo59Fpek7AM2Q6Z2_eYrMjqJBu46yI49ko3bwdI1r8KYXSSrgHNdfJasSS4sBFsz7YTijIZklfW6GTM/s600/maison_tellier.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The House of Madame Tellier</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKSS2_gdFaha4YXk1R0szk1RDb7T5K5vlLLXjp2owJ5vRRAdXl5hNUQwIT-Hf7YCHiXi0r8J7LbYVtnIDqsZVbBQ_pidEKzrSbXkcRX7QF-_HXo59Fpek7AM2Q6Z2_eYrMjqJBu46yI49ko3bwdI1r8KYXSSrgHNdfJasSS4sBFsz7YTijIZklfW6GTM/s841/maison_tellier.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"></a></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-77308952652114030482023-09-01T17:42:00.002+01:002023-09-01T17:42:44.056+01:00literary classics part 1 (of 3)I'm almost ready to start posting the next part of my <i>Into the Odd</i> adventures, but in the meantime I found the most excellent <a href="https://penguin.jos.ht/" target="_blank">Penguin Classics Cover Generator</a>, and, well...<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPsiqul_3sRCUMduZf9E-fmXrwH0uv2-LUAOP90KnshzPRME_sM6U1u4ACXfsSh1JKGdOGlqny878k_tGPEzKgRc6H_Y0fF4Q_xHEXsb3Hay6dDCj3bItZftem6jlO4WxhBkeKf5b2Tv4RboxoDagbl-FDvOd-g7a9SArH_Uh7gNWPdQY1XUgSKauacA/s1224/a_spy_in_the_house_of_love.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPsiqul_3sRCUMduZf9E-fmXrwH0uv2-LUAOP90KnshzPRME_sM6U1u4ACXfsSh1JKGdOGlqny878k_tGPEzKgRc6H_Y0fF4Q_xHEXsb3Hay6dDCj3bItZftem6jlO4WxhBkeKf5b2Tv4RboxoDagbl-FDvOd-g7a9SArH_Uh7gNWPdQY1XUgSKauacA/s600/a_spy_in_the_house_of_love.jpeg" /></a><span><a name='more'></a></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTPsiqul_3sRCUMduZf9E-fmXrwH0uv2-LUAOP90KnshzPRME_sM6U1u4ACXfsSh1JKGdOGlqny878k_tGPEzKgRc6H_Y0fF4Q_xHEXsb3Hay6dDCj3bItZftem6jlO4WxhBkeKf5b2Tv4RboxoDagbl-FDvOd-g7a9SArH_Uh7gNWPdQY1XUgSKauacA/s1224/a_spy_in_the_house_of_love.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszO6sB1_yWgApF4TSDMDmgVhFZkpNbhHtonDPX8z1JeyThoT1M8oDcYoLcuqtEJzgKnT1m55vQDtWdSecxbIbyhuhY0MlI3rW22_6CdPkl2nXez6I4c9HJrXnaO6-J5ZWgiBFyeb7eNi3wSmdAiiJC2plrF75AZESAJAhPh64qvpcUtZjnoI4rZhbRUQ/s1224/sense_and_sensibility.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszO6sB1_yWgApF4TSDMDmgVhFZkpNbhHtonDPX8z1JeyThoT1M8oDcYoLcuqtEJzgKnT1m55vQDtWdSecxbIbyhuhY0MlI3rW22_6CdPkl2nXez6I4c9HJrXnaO6-J5ZWgiBFyeb7eNi3wSmdAiiJC2plrF75AZESAJAhPh64qvpcUtZjnoI4rZhbRUQ/s600/sense_and_sensibility.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp7XhdJwnngE8L2YAP4kJgF0T5jq2eIMsUHhyJpDERD62C1eadJNolerUISOzuUHc7hgFhsFWonQPKY7WBN8Iuw5_o05-H8GwYk9mVS2gzztPuWlbthxslZ26aum1JdnEhwChWbackwHEQ2RJnwKpsU1CrekYjXXJIeD-EzEoHdxkSQNDHbao5Ge0ycPw/s1224/the_well_of_loneliness.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp7XhdJwnngE8L2YAP4kJgF0T5jq2eIMsUHhyJpDERD62C1eadJNolerUISOzuUHc7hgFhsFWonQPKY7WBN8Iuw5_o05-H8GwYk9mVS2gzztPuWlbthxslZ26aum1JdnEhwChWbackwHEQ2RJnwKpsU1CrekYjXXJIeD-EzEoHdxkSQNDHbao5Ge0ycPw/s1224/the_well_of_loneliness.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp7XhdJwnngE8L2YAP4kJgF0T5jq2eIMsUHhyJpDERD62C1eadJNolerUISOzuUHc7hgFhsFWonQPKY7WBN8Iuw5_o05-H8GwYk9mVS2gzztPuWlbthxslZ26aum1JdnEhwChWbackwHEQ2RJnwKpsU1CrekYjXXJIeD-EzEoHdxkSQNDHbao5Ge0ycPw/s600/the_well_of_loneliness.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Vr_Pw0O2pGmvxhmyo5S3X7YUWE0JtAP9x5C0nvLSve4oQaBfhP7opFtk1Hw6luT_9McimYie8FEMGtVKyK7QW2Vn6HiEz2k3q2jdU-ErivIAJnjnhD-t-yIcvQSTc4aYrLiAVozWu-MmO82ZYOCFDwZN9bobbN7UfTVHJvayQ4WEbfRJLxZ9Z1ofIZ4/s1224/vanity_fair.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Vr_Pw0O2pGmvxhmyo5S3X7YUWE0JtAP9x5C0nvLSve4oQaBfhP7opFtk1Hw6luT_9McimYie8FEMGtVKyK7QW2Vn6HiEz2k3q2jdU-ErivIAJnjnhD-t-yIcvQSTc4aYrLiAVozWu-MmO82ZYOCFDwZN9bobbN7UfTVHJvayQ4WEbfRJLxZ9Z1ofIZ4/s1224/vanity_fair.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Vr_Pw0O2pGmvxhmyo5S3X7YUWE0JtAP9x5C0nvLSve4oQaBfhP7opFtk1Hw6luT_9McimYie8FEMGtVKyK7QW2Vn6HiEz2k3q2jdU-ErivIAJnjnhD-t-yIcvQSTc4aYrLiAVozWu-MmO82ZYOCFDwZN9bobbN7UfTVHJvayQ4WEbfRJLxZ9Z1ofIZ4/s600/vanity_fair.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqINqAXUA9scwry1M0yE3LP5mfAIw72IzfJAUcOtberv6qQcRnBHFjk8a2GTsWWESPZVWwQeNzaZaBFncbaSnDxWsJHK2RYthBc1EP5bgzMmSWI61aW8qGSXYP3uetCZapHESAZU7nVl9uu6qLpDHciBO6obVOGxAeCDWoNwLeV7ytEPIGGe55wVwB0w/s1224/silas_marner.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqINqAXUA9scwry1M0yE3LP5mfAIw72IzfJAUcOtberv6qQcRnBHFjk8a2GTsWWESPZVWwQeNzaZaBFncbaSnDxWsJHK2RYthBc1EP5bgzMmSWI61aW8qGSXYP3uetCZapHESAZU7nVl9uu6qLpDHciBO6obVOGxAeCDWoNwLeV7ytEPIGGe55wVwB0w/s1224/silas_marner.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqINqAXUA9scwry1M0yE3LP5mfAIw72IzfJAUcOtberv6qQcRnBHFjk8a2GTsWWESPZVWwQeNzaZaBFncbaSnDxWsJHK2RYthBc1EP5bgzMmSWI61aW8qGSXYP3uetCZapHESAZU7nVl9uu6qLpDHciBO6obVOGxAeCDWoNwLeV7ytEPIGGe55wVwB0w/s600/silas_marner.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNaaQS99CHTyz5XdYBWNE0iTjhNla96kBE8QdMYBJpt4Gp3r_SBewr2HWkMaH4-vpDwfmn8UR7aHqDoV6jLC2oEsysJs97-CMcu0Xg81DyopKOYmH8of6DAZoUvC-0FVCAhj3YAA3ypW5ACDE03zWV0yVq7bz7Q8V3gdFYatrrZW9PsBMIqdD-v9DOh4E/s1224/120_days_of_sodom.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNaaQS99CHTyz5XdYBWNE0iTjhNla96kBE8QdMYBJpt4Gp3r_SBewr2HWkMaH4-vpDwfmn8UR7aHqDoV6jLC2oEsysJs97-CMcu0Xg81DyopKOYmH8of6DAZoUvC-0FVCAhj3YAA3ypW5ACDE03zWV0yVq7bz7Q8V3gdFYatrrZW9PsBMIqdD-v9DOh4E/s1224/120_days_of_sodom.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNaaQS99CHTyz5XdYBWNE0iTjhNla96kBE8QdMYBJpt4Gp3r_SBewr2HWkMaH4-vpDwfmn8UR7aHqDoV6jLC2oEsysJs97-CMcu0Xg81DyopKOYmH8of6DAZoUvC-0FVCAhj3YAA3ypW5ACDE03zWV0yVq7bz7Q8V3gdFYatrrZW9PsBMIqdD-v9DOh4E/s600/120_days_of_sodom.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkL-Xbp2UI8uNMfdKbzIogMHr_Quq-gIGFanRXGztDHLMK7msk8rnXF5anTJayvqKVj690oiLGp68Qa-MTT_by-910zRoAOAQvUKzJRUTSq3e89ziRoEvKtJ7ZItIen-mGLSFtFcjIhJg4EG-amuFESRVLvJtCwb8glru3iVpHJSejj8VZ9TrvcsounGM/s1224/anne_of_green_gables.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkL-Xbp2UI8uNMfdKbzIogMHr_Quq-gIGFanRXGztDHLMK7msk8rnXF5anTJayvqKVj690oiLGp68Qa-MTT_by-910zRoAOAQvUKzJRUTSq3e89ziRoEvKtJ7ZItIen-mGLSFtFcjIhJg4EG-amuFESRVLvJtCwb8glru3iVpHJSejj8VZ9TrvcsounGM/s1224/anne_of_green_gables.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkL-Xbp2UI8uNMfdKbzIogMHr_Quq-gIGFanRXGztDHLMK7msk8rnXF5anTJayvqKVj690oiLGp68Qa-MTT_by-910zRoAOAQvUKzJRUTSq3e89ziRoEvKtJ7ZItIen-mGLSFtFcjIhJg4EG-amuFESRVLvJtCwb8glru3iVpHJSejj8VZ9TrvcsounGM/s600/anne_of_green_gables.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojL-yFAJmBQABivag_zj6W0tyZ_BQlExTnVZU7s6TRNN3xDjKdO5PQBV5mo3YTUgTopdDx_QiBd4dNxhs_L4k3SAkFvVclTafiP6V3sm1KlZgNB1pn0WiFOHFOS12ka9220PTsoAjslNbLvKSRIPqzoby4qYPXpL-5Fpl_LbuU3Ph-2P-gvUfS4eCpy4/s1224/shirley.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojL-yFAJmBQABivag_zj6W0tyZ_BQlExTnVZU7s6TRNN3xDjKdO5PQBV5mo3YTUgTopdDx_QiBd4dNxhs_L4k3SAkFvVclTafiP6V3sm1KlZgNB1pn0WiFOHFOS12ka9220PTsoAjslNbLvKSRIPqzoby4qYPXpL-5Fpl_LbuU3Ph-2P-gvUfS4eCpy4/s1224/shirley.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgojL-yFAJmBQABivag_zj6W0tyZ_BQlExTnVZU7s6TRNN3xDjKdO5PQBV5mo3YTUgTopdDx_QiBd4dNxhs_L4k3SAkFvVclTafiP6V3sm1KlZgNB1pn0WiFOHFOS12ka9220PTsoAjslNbLvKSRIPqzoby4qYPXpL-5Fpl_LbuU3Ph-2P-gvUfS4eCpy4/s600/shirley.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3crLW44iZgSv80hO1uQtQu1ryhHudJfPwVTpPEjsp7djb6fZwhzQxw41urphRq2_Wfsd-BUFcp-KefFnAhlhikWWvmgowqNnatDTrmWoEgDR58ZCnbqujMSjx_YwHHb79jU2PvZv4eb_zj4zhmWFiFJ71bC1X1WEjyvo-qhqu3Eu0UwjLkpq2LDcMeak/s1224/the_tenant_of_wildfell_hall.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3crLW44iZgSv80hO1uQtQu1ryhHudJfPwVTpPEjsp7djb6fZwhzQxw41urphRq2_Wfsd-BUFcp-KefFnAhlhikWWvmgowqNnatDTrmWoEgDR58ZCnbqujMSjx_YwHHb79jU2PvZv4eb_zj4zhmWFiFJ71bC1X1WEjyvo-qhqu3Eu0UwjLkpq2LDcMeak/s1224/the_tenant_of_wildfell_hall.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3crLW44iZgSv80hO1uQtQu1ryhHudJfPwVTpPEjsp7djb6fZwhzQxw41urphRq2_Wfsd-BUFcp-KefFnAhlhikWWvmgowqNnatDTrmWoEgDR58ZCnbqujMSjx_YwHHb79jU2PvZv4eb_zj4zhmWFiFJ71bC1X1WEjyvo-qhqu3Eu0UwjLkpq2LDcMeak/s600/the_tenant_of_wildfell_hall.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_TrST2IqhOClRE7qoLjX7maJMkrJsrLGWGvoOAesdVRfb7FFyVajcUM75o77yGc07yAaKIC_NIp0r4R8J-s6pM3oSNEv2MVMGhEIlniyKRu_ipNSDZqRIXPYA0v3Fkoj4ZKnpPRclStyVmQgZFkc91pCu4RWlypmNd9nnMrIALVND4D5HnMw2eQYIrI/s1224/clarissa.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_TrST2IqhOClRE7qoLjX7maJMkrJsrLGWGvoOAesdVRfb7FFyVajcUM75o77yGc07yAaKIC_NIp0r4R8J-s6pM3oSNEv2MVMGhEIlniyKRu_ipNSDZqRIXPYA0v3Fkoj4ZKnpPRclStyVmQgZFkc91pCu4RWlypmNd9nnMrIALVND4D5HnMw2eQYIrI/s1224/clarissa.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2_TrST2IqhOClRE7qoLjX7maJMkrJsrLGWGvoOAesdVRfb7FFyVajcUM75o77yGc07yAaKIC_NIp0r4R8J-s6pM3oSNEv2MVMGhEIlniyKRu_ipNSDZqRIXPYA0v3Fkoj4ZKnpPRclStyVmQgZFkc91pCu4RWlypmNd9nnMrIALVND4D5HnMw2eQYIrI/s600/clarissa.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0sdVK0mF35Hzi4eG37mEEZzLHVfIUzU7fTCHciWRrFtgnf4D-FRCJT0lZF-_aRzaP0cfX8Oa7sOlBOasq-u8VecFy36QR9UKIzLxw4fE_oRPxD-3_VAXuWxwGSV99S7MOVgHVVaKPUIkXa-pP-LvRx7nGHfOefSBX7wHRsPdhBoQwrD0ftVjRyQ4OjoQ/s1224/far_from_the_madding_crowd.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0sdVK0mF35Hzi4eG37mEEZzLHVfIUzU7fTCHciWRrFtgnf4D-FRCJT0lZF-_aRzaP0cfX8Oa7sOlBOasq-u8VecFy36QR9UKIzLxw4fE_oRPxD-3_VAXuWxwGSV99S7MOVgHVVaKPUIkXa-pP-LvRx7nGHfOefSBX7wHRsPdhBoQwrD0ftVjRyQ4OjoQ/s1224/far_from_the_madding_crowd.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0sdVK0mF35Hzi4eG37mEEZzLHVfIUzU7fTCHciWRrFtgnf4D-FRCJT0lZF-_aRzaP0cfX8Oa7sOlBOasq-u8VecFy36QR9UKIzLxw4fE_oRPxD-3_VAXuWxwGSV99S7MOVgHVVaKPUIkXa-pP-LvRx7nGHfOefSBX7wHRsPdhBoQwrD0ftVjRyQ4OjoQ/s600/far_from_the_madding_crowd.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdVVdgXZsOHd_seOMUuHmur8XMAsUncdTHcKPQofrKUWvOIXuDM9ZOfwMAGwRObnyBgeVpBTtilvz9NGFLcdIWbPe5BTRRtjAuN5wOPW4IDI1awdlSglMj6Z4uuLoAv8vmBoUU0elkZl8aNQX2U2jGqkPHg8DeJ7uuFMCzNPDixfnTK4rsc2Am1UV360/s1224/plexus.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdVVdgXZsOHd_seOMUuHmur8XMAsUncdTHcKPQofrKUWvOIXuDM9ZOfwMAGwRObnyBgeVpBTtilvz9NGFLcdIWbPe5BTRRtjAuN5wOPW4IDI1awdlSglMj6Z4uuLoAv8vmBoUU0elkZl8aNQX2U2jGqkPHg8DeJ7uuFMCzNPDixfnTK4rsc2Am1UV360/s1224/plexus.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZdVVdgXZsOHd_seOMUuHmur8XMAsUncdTHcKPQofrKUWvOIXuDM9ZOfwMAGwRObnyBgeVpBTtilvz9NGFLcdIWbPe5BTRRtjAuN5wOPW4IDI1awdlSglMj6Z4uuLoAv8vmBoUU0elkZl8aNQX2U2jGqkPHg8DeJ7uuFMCzNPDixfnTK4rsc2Am1UV360/s600/plexus.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0g6MKeBJSjQCCQkL75iv9BS6KfvHlMCnMuNR1EwvJjjIvVJZYNtTia153wpU2LPpwQ-yeLDjNJtIkO9Fd7tz-yb2hUo2DduJjuWLRV9AjHN6OfV-TLrb7zSQhvzFoJNisLHlyrWgvsG1aPo5dcZtTtmclYHJDP08h60hAaLu--Gmw86K_Mxi7Z2mnGiU/s1224/cranford.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0g6MKeBJSjQCCQkL75iv9BS6KfvHlMCnMuNR1EwvJjjIvVJZYNtTia153wpU2LPpwQ-yeLDjNJtIkO9Fd7tz-yb2hUo2DduJjuWLRV9AjHN6OfV-TLrb7zSQhvzFoJNisLHlyrWgvsG1aPo5dcZtTtmclYHJDP08h60hAaLu--Gmw86K_Mxi7Z2mnGiU/s1224/cranford.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0g6MKeBJSjQCCQkL75iv9BS6KfvHlMCnMuNR1EwvJjjIvVJZYNtTia153wpU2LPpwQ-yeLDjNJtIkO9Fd7tz-yb2hUo2DduJjuWLRV9AjHN6OfV-TLrb7zSQhvzFoJNisLHlyrWgvsG1aPo5dcZtTtmclYHJDP08h60hAaLu--Gmw86K_Mxi7Z2mnGiU/s600/cranford.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVPpccHm1056ak8FhfqS-ySLfJVdnb2Tkl0hhshYCWhnP2BxLDroaU948tekY5Y0KBIMx5-YZefDknB28JaebQq61Y0ebTmDoOBP9Eu02pdT-noALk45dGOc24pJXCkb1pY-FR9d6OTFlRBm1OvMZ5oqeqpvvi8nQlk5aEekZVzbywAq6fzTIGHF2wA_8/s1224/sentimental_education.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVPpccHm1056ak8FhfqS-ySLfJVdnb2Tkl0hhshYCWhnP2BxLDroaU948tekY5Y0KBIMx5-YZefDknB28JaebQq61Y0ebTmDoOBP9Eu02pdT-noALk45dGOc24pJXCkb1pY-FR9d6OTFlRBm1OvMZ5oqeqpvvi8nQlk5aEekZVzbywAq6fzTIGHF2wA_8/s1224/sentimental_education.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVPpccHm1056ak8FhfqS-ySLfJVdnb2Tkl0hhshYCWhnP2BxLDroaU948tekY5Y0KBIMx5-YZefDknB28JaebQq61Y0ebTmDoOBP9Eu02pdT-noALk45dGOc24pJXCkb1pY-FR9d6OTFlRBm1OvMZ5oqeqpvvi8nQlk5aEekZVzbywAq6fzTIGHF2wA_8/s600/sentimental_education.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KvDwQgXF0awRyWg3pWSKhabPkVngfAXyLIqVCqT8AJVMA-t1RViPJD0wt6Kl-rE7UxOB8G_FrUKsXIiqaxxxaSaZK2kioTMQmk-7MiFPL1kgTA7SN0W0XKxFNFwn1b_OpMqLwMiFLWwY8yv_FJYgkww3tX4aZSr5y8FjkcS6cTZzEtMApkFzaMQQ1W4/s1224/l%27assomoir.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KvDwQgXF0awRyWg3pWSKhabPkVngfAXyLIqVCqT8AJVMA-t1RViPJD0wt6Kl-rE7UxOB8G_FrUKsXIiqaxxxaSaZK2kioTMQmk-7MiFPL1kgTA7SN0W0XKxFNFwn1b_OpMqLwMiFLWwY8yv_FJYgkww3tX4aZSr5y8FjkcS6cTZzEtMApkFzaMQQ1W4/s1224/l%27assomoir.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5KvDwQgXF0awRyWg3pWSKhabPkVngfAXyLIqVCqT8AJVMA-t1RViPJD0wt6Kl-rE7UxOB8G_FrUKsXIiqaxxxaSaZK2kioTMQmk-7MiFPL1kgTA7SN0W0XKxFNFwn1b_OpMqLwMiFLWwY8yv_FJYgkww3tX4aZSr5y8FjkcS6cTZzEtMApkFzaMQQ1W4/s600/l%27assomoir.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCnSxNu9BDwa4aGNjAcxs30VP6rjzLbtqy8dMOialLeEEH4R4XfpBcjTPEiTPXnZWvzGNSJqH2YZtoXJbJUZCAyt-Yl_wa_JhxNVQaz5s2T6_EskGdG1gCug9A8liYIGM6DAzHhoYlV89JiSn4Q4eNlZJQdcn5MXuyK2a8qVDDn0l4vyhjSOWC0e7E18/s1224/the_way_we_live_now.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCnSxNu9BDwa4aGNjAcxs30VP6rjzLbtqy8dMOialLeEEH4R4XfpBcjTPEiTPXnZWvzGNSJqH2YZtoXJbJUZCAyt-Yl_wa_JhxNVQaz5s2T6_EskGdG1gCug9A8liYIGM6DAzHhoYlV89JiSn4Q4eNlZJQdcn5MXuyK2a8qVDDn0l4vyhjSOWC0e7E18/s1224/the_way_we_live_now.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1224" data-original-width="800" height="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCnSxNu9BDwa4aGNjAcxs30VP6rjzLbtqy8dMOialLeEEH4R4XfpBcjTPEiTPXnZWvzGNSJqH2YZtoXJbJUZCAyt-Yl_wa_JhxNVQaz5s2T6_EskGdG1gCug9A8liYIGM6DAzHhoYlV89JiSn4Q4eNlZJQdcn5MXuyK2a8qVDDn0l4vyhjSOWC0e7E18/s600/the_way_we_live_now.jpeg" /></a></div><p></p><span><br /><!--more--></span>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-31534367872985343892023-08-05T10:58:00.001+01:002023-09-11T19:51:30.886+01:00ItO solo - Part V : obols for the ferryman<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfM2JQcN23STAVwb4nMB0Pc3V2QKuVgla9La1mF5gCWYWN-Hf95TOpKvPfYUGmMsF1CENQXi1k88mv18s6XKh-Y-c8I1Bi5cQelYrMueUXGZvewFhzOIn_mc4On9AaDS4MYNQsjX8bbaxM8o_r2DSMUxoCjNM_tonVjDVuy0GfCNZyAZ9E5rrNmQ1qQXI/s800/more-corridors.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="485" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfM2JQcN23STAVwb4nMB0Pc3V2QKuVgla9La1mF5gCWYWN-Hf95TOpKvPfYUGmMsF1CENQXi1k88mv18s6XKh-Y-c8I1Bi5cQelYrMueUXGZvewFhzOIn_mc4On9AaDS4MYNQsjX8bbaxM8o_r2DSMUxoCjNM_tonVjDVuy0GfCNZyAZ9E5rrNmQ1qQXI/w242-h400/more-corridors.jpg" width="242" /></a></div>They proceed wordlessly down a long corridor. Several annoyed huffs later, they reach a side passage, which ends in a closed door.<br /><br />"Do we try it?" asks Bassianus.<br /><br />"It's the right way to go, I suppose," says Athalie.<br /><br />Swayed by her ringing endorsement, they take the passage.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 14]</b></span><br /><br />Behind the door is a great square chamber filled with gargantuan machines made of tarnished brass. The machines stand silent now, and glisten with moisture from the unpleasantly humid air. There is a man wearing a wide-brimmed hat, velvet eye-patch, and voluminous cloak, currently engaged in picking the mushrooms growing on the machinery and stuffing them into his pockets.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Who is he? <span style="font-family: georgia;">Ye Slaves of Appetite</span>]</span><br /><br />The sudden light glinting off the brass alerts him to the new arrivals, and he wheels about with a flourish of his cloak. <br /><br />"Who are you?" asks Isabeau.<br /><br />"I? Who are you? You obviously aren't star cultists, and you don't look like you work for the sewer conglomerate..."<br /><br />"We could say the same about you!" says Athalie. "But we are travellers, who besought to avoid the dangers in the streets by taking a shortcut Underground -- perhaps unadvisedly. Now, who are you?" <span style="color: #800180;">[Athalie's WIL save (Reaction roll) succeeds, so he's willing to talk]</span><br /><br />"You mean you don't recognise me?"<br /><br />"I'm afraid not."<br /><br />"My name is -- Bunbury."<br /><br />"Oh."<br /><br />"You've not heard of me? Really?"<br /><br />"Sorry."<br /><br />"I am Bunbury: the Epicure Supreme -- The modern-day Trimalchio -- Last of the red hot flâneurs. And lately, a fugitive from the star cult."<br /><br />"Do you know a way out?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does he? 50/50 (4+): O3 C8 - no]</span><br /><br />"I fear I have lost my way."<br /><br />"Come with us, then, and we shall find you a way to the surface."<br /><br />"Really?" asks Bassianus.<br /><br />"Any enemy of the cult..."<br /><br />"You've a point there, my dear."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does he have any equipment? likely (3+): O6 C7 - yes (alternate starting character)<br />Q: Does he have any cash? doubtful (6): O6 C4 - yes, but d30=19s<br />Q: Has he taken any damage? 1d4-1 attributes reduced: 1, d3=STR d8=3damage]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinO_oHaWdK9Qa4G7EtwhkBvVHnsp2AqaH6NFYUiDRWIt0cJbfiTw6cnI_5Yt_9MxM2PCOaAJnnoA56ynzFAr8x9lIa7yqxfaknkIPSAcj1ekP7SPXaja8ipDxCmpRkWSRkMkDtV1oXt7-ZftlOtODdWvq4q_WpScHxyOEZVO2phnv6d7yJijY96cbQG4Y/s800/bunbury.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="480" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinO_oHaWdK9Qa4G7EtwhkBvVHnsp2AqaH6NFYUiDRWIt0cJbfiTw6cnI_5Yt_9MxM2PCOaAJnnoA56ynzFAr8x9lIa7yqxfaknkIPSAcj1ekP7SPXaja8ipDxCmpRkWSRkMkDtV1oXt7-ZftlOtODdWvq4q_WpScHxyOEZVO2phnv6d7yJijY96cbQG4Y/w240-h400/bunbury.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Bunbury<br />STR 6/9, DEX 16, WIL 9, 6hp<br />crowbar (d6), snail, scented candle, 19s</span><br /><br />Once their new companion has finished stuffing his pockets full of fungus, they head back to the main corridor, which leads finally into an irregular, C-shaped chamber.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 15]</b></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[puzzle : <span style="font-family: georgia;">desperate Madness</span> (so, more a trap than a puzzle)]</span><br /><br />As they pass through the empty chamber, they feel a resonance coming from the bare, striated cement walls. The tones -- felt more than heard -- rise to a maddening crescendo, and derangement follows in their wake. Isabeau and Athalie, being young ladies of sense, steel their wills against the encroaching delirium. Their gentlemen companions, however, succumb to the waves of lunacy.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[They all needed WIL saves to avoid madness. For the failures--<br />Q: What is Bassianus' folly? <span style="font-family: georgia;">unruly Appetites</span><br />Q: What is Bunbury's folly? <span style="font-family: georgia;">rejoice in this blessed Hope</span>]</span><br /><br />Bunbury becomes convinced that nothing will prevent him from leaving this accursed sewer, and he puffs up with foolhardiness and hope. Yet no one notices the sudden change in his demeanour as Bassianus' affliction plays out before their eyes. An awful hunger wells up in him, and he must feed -- now, on meat. Delicious, raw meat. He suddenly takes his hatchet to Geta, felling the hawk with one mighty blow <span style="color: #800180;">[3 damage kills]</span> and begins to devour it raw, feathers and all.<br /><br />The others look on in bewilderment and horror mixed, but as they feel the madness ever plucking at their brains they merely urge him to eat on the way. They pass a side passage, but Athalie shakes her head <span style="color: #800180;">[WIL save succeeds]</span>, and they follow the curve round to the far end, where a long, lonely tunnel leads them to...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 16]</b></span><br /><br />...a squarish chamber, full of overhead pipes. Others run vertically from floor to ceiling, creating a sort of tunnel for those who do not wish to crawl. Clicking noises reverberate off of, or perhaps within, the pipes.<br /><br />In a sort of clearing near one of the walls the explorers come upon a solitary, hunched-over beldam, currently engaged in stirring some evil-smelling broth in a kettle made from parts of an old boiler. As they draw near, the lantern light reveals her skin to be hanging off her tiny frame in rubbery folds, as if she'd bought it several sizes too large. <span style="color: #800180;">[encounter: <span style="font-family: georgia;">drooping Mother</span>]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCLlOw28R8LXg7YDVDBlJcAyB5pAt2VTqgg-elnv7kxm8Y8IXe3reMtF1YPaa3UKwIX62YIwdUjzHArVSHrdHjbdFeHxapcT1FQAf3Z3jJ33waCgqap20tsOUx_0bCmZgXDmOFk6izlm-uOOqY_YyvQbQSvMj-bpA52kSz-74IREk6-lysbtuSxp75osk/s473/drooping%20mother.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="473" data-original-width="284" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCLlOw28R8LXg7YDVDBlJcAyB5pAt2VTqgg-elnv7kxm8Y8IXe3reMtF1YPaa3UKwIX62YIwdUjzHArVSHrdHjbdFeHxapcT1FQAf3Z3jJ33waCgqap20tsOUx_0bCmZgXDmOFk6izlm-uOOqY_YyvQbQSvMj-bpA52kSz-74IREk6-lysbtuSxp75osk/w240-h400/drooping%20mother.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Drooping Mother<br />STR 15, DEX 10, WIL 11, 9HP<br />Driven to make a vile soup<br />Rubbery skin (Armour 2)<br />Awful Wail (d6 Blast), if critical damage inflicted target drains away to a pool of bubbling fluid -- to be added to the broth</span><br /><br />The wretched creature looks plaintively at the explorers, and is opening her mouth to speak when Bunbury leaps forward, a wordless cry of bravado issuing from his lips.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The rest must make DEX saves to avoid Surprise: Athalie, Bassianus, and the Drooping Mother succeed.]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br />Bunbury wields a crowbar like a bludgeon. It connects solidly with the awful beldam, but bounces off her rubbery hide <span style="color: #800180;">[5-2=3 damage to 6hp]</span>. Athalie and Bassianus follow with sword and hatchet, but their blades too meet resistance on the thick, drooping dermis <span style="color: #800180;">[2-2=0, 4-2=2 damage, down to 4hp]</span>.<br /><br />As they rain blows down upon the creature, it stands stock-still, but underneath the folds of its terrible face it opens wide toothless red jaws and a monstrous keening issues forth. All in the room feel it in the marrow of their bones, as if they might shatter or burst.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[All take damage to their HP. Bassianus gets the worst of it, taking 5 points, leaving him with 0hp and 11 STR; d20=7, no critical, luckily]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br />Joined by Isabeau, they continue to lay into the abomination, but their weapons are continually repelled by the rubbery flesh <span style="color: #800180;">[7 total damage get through; it's down to 0hp, 12 STR, but avoids critical damage.]</span><br /><br />The keening will not stop. Athalie proves the most resistant to it <span style="color: #800180;">[to 0hp exactly]</span>, but Bassianus and Isabeau are certain their limbs are going to explode <span style="color: #800180;">[both to 0hp, 9 STR, no crit]</span>. The sound has spelt doom for poor Bunbury, however. His entire body starts draining away like wax from a cheap taper. Everything is consumed -- flesh, bones, hair -- until all that remains is a puddle of bubbling goo in a pile of fashionable clothing <span style="color: #800180;">[failed his STR save]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 3]</span><br />The others' terror renews the fury of their assault, and the keening is abruptly silenced <span style="color: #800180;">[crit damage]</span>. They do not stop until the thing is a pulpy mass beneath the tatters of purloined skin. <br /><br />Their rage and fear spent, they stand round their new comrade's... remains.<br /><br />"Poor sod," says Athalie.<br /><br />"I'd just been starting to warm to him," adds Bassianus.<br /><br />"Well, he won't be needing his stuff any more," observes Isabeau.<br /><br />They wipe off his possessions as best they are able and distribute them amongst themselves. Athalie fancies his scented candle, as her flat still has a suspicious odour after the gefilte fish incident. Bassianus surmises he'll have a more immediate need of the crowbar. Isabeau is content with his meagre purse of 19 shillings, and adds it to her own.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Did the drooping Mother have any treasure? unknown d6=2: O1 C8 - no]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpLhGOGZRfpZnE9WiF1S1NfPWxuGUWKKSUVdTxikdwSW3NFTUguPC7_cSxxyhOskgCVC-ETuWKTNz0ZlI5dUTaf8HitBiFasebwF3Y9zj3DXFJaSq6PiNbpni-oyZVUfeBz7Z9nkjfd-XgSaKdRXCbar-q4G2uYswoY6NSdubXVXQu4W-utcV__m2FK0/s800/rough%20passage.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="595" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpLhGOGZRfpZnE9WiF1S1NfPWxuGUWKKSUVdTxikdwSW3NFTUguPC7_cSxxyhOskgCVC-ETuWKTNz0ZlI5dUTaf8HitBiFasebwF3Y9zj3DXFJaSq6PiNbpni-oyZVUfeBz7Z9nkjfd-XgSaKdRXCbar-q4G2uYswoY6NSdubXVXQu4W-utcV__m2FK0/w298-h400/rough%20passage.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>Once they have rested a bit, Athalie tries to get her bearings and decide which of the two exits will lead them the right direction. <span style="color: #800180;">[Short rest, no encounter, HP back to full; WIL save for navigation succeeds]</span><br /><br />They follow her down a short passage which opens out into a long, triangular space.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 17]</b></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[contents: Goal (the exit), caustic pools]</span><br /><br />The floor is uneven, pitted concrete. Pools of an acrid-smelling, caustic fluid are everywhere, and the explorers must pick their careful way between them. Then a rhythmic clicking is heard, and moments later the animated skeleton of some unknown quadruped, the size of a small deer, walks into the light. It moves right through the toxic pools, unfazed by its acidic properties.<br /><br />The explorers are certain it means them ill, and ready their arms to do battle.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir8ohLgbhXwQNSerh6sMVGcDmaZcFxNZ3wEIAig-TSeKr0J_9MQsz_g89ZUrsqDIgXxPeaOEEXm2CXgNc9mACtT7Yn70IqvaZtvjVCVMdtvrpH0nlbEXPZ6yXmaJxl3SwW06u-tmywYh6zKfV95zMhVgku2IwZZAcsmxepOrpHt2lscTCqIjs_caePdrU/s903/skeletal%20ungulate.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="903" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir8ohLgbhXwQNSerh6sMVGcDmaZcFxNZ3wEIAig-TSeKr0J_9MQsz_g89ZUrsqDIgXxPeaOEEXm2CXgNc9mACtT7Yn70IqvaZtvjVCVMdtvrpH0nlbEXPZ6yXmaJxl3SwW06u-tmywYh6zKfV95zMhVgku2IwZZAcsmxepOrpHt2lscTCqIjs_caePdrU/w400-h333/skeletal%20ungulate.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Skeletal Ungulate<br />STR 8, DEX 13, WIL 6, 15hp<br />Nasty bite (d8)<br />immune to missiles and acid, but shatters if it suffers critical damage</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Each round, a DEX save is needed to avoid splashing one's self in a puddle for d12 damage, OR one may fight carefully, but lose Initiative and all attacks are Impaired]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br />The skeleton bounds up, rears, and bites at Isabeau, but she fends off the snapping jaws before they fasten on her throat <span style="color: #800180;">[4dmg to 1hp]</span>. Her counterattack is weak, as she expends more attention on not stepping in the acid puddles than she does on swordplay. Bassianus' and Athalie's attacks are similarly ineffective <span style="color: #800180;">[Impaired attacks, so d4+d4+d4=10 damage, dropping it to 5hp]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br />Its snaps at Isabeau's face, and the teeth just barely scrape the end of her nose <span style="color: #800180;">[1 damage to 0hp]</span>. But it soon reduced to a lifeless jumble of bones at her feet. <span style="color: #800180;">[critical damage, shatters]</span><br /><br />At the far end of the room, a ladder leads up to the street. Isabeau pauses to wind her mechanical hand, then they climb to the surface. They emerge from a manhole...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Are they very close to their destination? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and...]</span><br /><br />...to find themselves a scant few doors down from their destination, Hightower Hats & Canes. There's no way to make themselves presentable, being covered as they are in grime, blood, and less pleasant things, so Athalie concocts a plan that takes their current state into account. She will distract the shopkeeper whilst Isabeau slinks behind the counter to place the Tack. Should she be about to be discovered, Bassianus will pretend to trip over a display.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[2 out of 3 PCs must succeed in a Save in order to pull this off]</span><br /><br />They go in boldly. Athalie is in the lead, her claw hand carefully concealed beneath her travelling cloak. They all three exude the odour of the sewers, and as the disgusted shopkeep is opening his mouth to say something, her monologue cuts him off.<br /><br />"Heavens! What an afternoon we've just had. That's the last time I go near the sewer taxis, let me tell you! There were mutants! Mutants everywhere. They devoured the taxi man and linkboys, and then came for me. My stalwart manservant fought them off bravely, but -- O the benighted fiends! -- they stole my favourite hat. Fortunately we emerged where we did, for there is a darling bonnet in your window, and I simply must have it. Must, I tell you." <span style="color: #800180;">[WIL save: d20=14, success]</span><br /><br />The shopkeeper decides to breathe through his mouth and see to the customer. She demands he get the the one down from the furthest mannequin in the window display, and refuses to take it herself. She snaps her fingers. "Basingstoke, put the bonnet on me. I can't very well do it myself. And those dreadful mutants ate my maid."<br /><br />Bassianus springs to m'lady's side and puts the bonnet on her head, struggling with the bow beneath her chin as if he'd never done up a young lady's bonnet before. Though perhaps this is no mere act.<br /><br />Whilst the shopkeeper is preoccupied, Isabeau slinks behind the counter and jabs the Tack into the wall. <span style="color: #800180;">[DEX save: d20=3, success]</span> When she glides back onto the sales floor, Bassianus gives Athalie the signal (a wink -- they couldn't think up anything better).<br /><br />"I just can't decide! Dame Ilford, do come over and let me have your opinion."<br /><br />Isabeau comes over and offers some nonsensical opinions, but 'Lady Acton' can't make up her mind, and insists she simply must sleep on it. The three companions scurry out into the street, taking care to retain their laughter until they've turned the corner.<br /><br />There's a stairway down to the sewer taxi. Isabeau digs into her purse for poor Bunbury's dosh, and counts out 5s each for journey back home.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ZBM9as6tHvU9Ysf7O-uN__10VYMztckx4-6tvU3MYmWU7ZtZbPqa-GAITq6wS_l8mu2h8A-v4aqBtpQNCyC_O5-mJKnoLG5-Rcp07KBkT4Df5ssEBnqxXyMWaXJ2EBc4uBuadTpFZJLaVHnFt8bFwqgjLHk19GWhMUXHMaJlFcYr8pk4G4pc-PWoy30/s750/sewer%20taxi.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="684" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8ZBM9as6tHvU9Ysf7O-uN__10VYMztckx4-6tvU3MYmWU7ZtZbPqa-GAITq6wS_l8mu2h8A-v4aqBtpQNCyC_O5-mJKnoLG5-Rcp07KBkT4Df5ssEBnqxXyMWaXJ2EBc4uBuadTpFZJLaVHnFt8bFwqgjLHk19GWhMUXHMaJlFcYr8pk4G4pc-PWoy30/w584-h640/sewer%20taxi.jpg" width="584" /></a></div><h2 style="text-align: left;">Dénouement</h2>Their shadowy boss is satisfied -- insofar as he is able to feel satisfaction with any of his underlings -- and cancels the current interest on their debt, though they are still his creatures until they pay off the original loan (the amount of which I'm keeping vague, as it's a plot point rather than something they can pay off with treasure).<br /><br />Athalie sells the jewellery they took from the cult for 10d10=62s. WIL save: d20=6, success -- she knows whom to sell it to so that there will be no repercussions. They divide the haul -- 20s each, with the leftover 2s spent on pie & plonk for a celebratory dinner down their local.<br /><br />Athalie has kept the Psalter from the (aboveground) cult temple. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she spends a night reading it alone in her room. So--<br /><br />Q: Is it an Arcanum? doubtful (6): O1 C7 - no<br />Q: Is it worth something? doubtful (6): O5 C6 - no<br />Q: Is it safe to read? unlikely (5+): O4 C3 - no, but... a WIL save is needed to avoid deleterious effects: d20=14, ok. She'll hang onto it for now, as one never knows, but she's not going to look inside its covers again.<br /><br />For surviving their first adventure, the PCs advance to the Professional experience level. They each get 1d6 additional hit points, and roll a d20 against each of their Ability Scores, raising them by 1 if the die rolls higher.<br /><br /><b>Athalie</b><br />STR increases to 13, DEX to 14, +5hp<br /><br /><b>Bassianus</b><br />STR to 6, DEX to 11, WIL to 7, +3hp<br /><br /><b>Isabeau</b><br />STR to 17, DEX to 10, WIL to 10, +4hp<br /><br />They spend some of their cash to buy new equipment (a pistol for Athalie, a flashbang for Bassianus, acid, animal repellent, and anti-toxin for Isabeau). I'll assume whatever stipend their patron doles out allows them to break even for food & shelter whilst they perform miscellaneous tasks for him until the <a href="https://aleaiactandaest.blogspot.com/2023/09/ito-solo-part-vi-star-of-night.html">next adventure commences... anon</a>.<br /><br />Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-8102041207645239532023-07-25T20:17:00.001+01:002023-07-25T20:19:06.257+01:00ItO solo - Part IV : rabie fera carens dum breve tempus animus est<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix3NKJyTKSHQmv7OeLjHd0RDhXHDPHeanZ00F6f3vQQ2_5RQUW0iEKnamnRWuL4_bOTkCzIbiXiOvTsxX1LO4N0R_maOfJ0r9XU1oWjOlnN1h5L5yPOGS29uM0wVgk5gQQaT5taNaYwIpWbKq-Nm3xKJTQu-pL2RodU-2h3zbv1KHkVLzr-Lw7jkYPlvo/s703/passage%20-%20part%204.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="700" data-original-width="703" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix3NKJyTKSHQmv7OeLjHd0RDhXHDPHeanZ00F6f3vQQ2_5RQUW0iEKnamnRWuL4_bOTkCzIbiXiOvTsxX1LO4N0R_maOfJ0r9XU1oWjOlnN1h5L5yPOGS29uM0wVgk5gQQaT5taNaYwIpWbKq-Nm3xKJTQu-pL2RodU-2h3zbv1KHkVLzr-Lw7jkYPlvo/s400/passage%20-%20part%204.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Despite its unending spiral, the staircase leads not all the way down to Hell, but only a lower level of the sewer, which is probably the next best thing. The explorers steady themselves a moment until their dizziness passes, then proceed down the long tubular corridor. They smell sulphurous fumes from the chamber ahead even before they've reached it.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 10]</b></span><br /><br />Stepping into an octagonal chamber, they find a bewildering array of furnishings either nicked or bought second-hand from the surface world and twisted into cut paraphernalia -- mismatched draperies with badly embroidered occult sigils, a rattan chair with human skulls wired on top, a child's vanity table converted to a makeshift altar, and a cement lawn statue of a nymph painted as an avenging demon-goddess.<br /><br />As the explorers are marvelling at the diabolic tat, a man in simple black robes strides in from a passage behind one of the curtains. Beside him is a singular brute of hulking aspect; its face is a fleshless, grinning skull, and its elongated arms end in taloned fingers which scrape the floor as it lumbers behind its master.<br /><br />"Friends!" exclaims the man. "Have you come to pay obeisance to the Radiant Malignancies of Her Divine Putridity?"<br /><br />"Sorry, old chap," says Bassianus. "I was raised C of B."<br /><br />"I'm not, er, terribly religious," stammers Isabeau.<br /><br />"I'm a nice Jewish girl," adds Athalie.<br /><br />"Destroy them, my <span style="font-family: georgia;">Accursed Thing</span>!"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[encounter: cult adept & pet</span><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br />Q: Does the adept possess useful item? 50/50: O3 C6 - no<br />Q: Treasure? 50/50 (5+): O5 C7 - yes]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KxEqKEr_mFFlr-MrN3QwjGX5E7pQ9LzFWOlDBJW_8ZiKbXonzN03WaepxSIiZ316E9jHlnzBswDXX9_SAZuBMz04Dq1nfzhyURGLkkLoiFqWh-Nau_phy5Vb1XR3M7mChMSHI7DWxeM_wOJlprPSGlTJUjq88wjLohUuN0irNFrCALXivIVZdJtM8uI/s677/adept%20and%20accursed%20thing.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="677" data-original-width="665" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KxEqKEr_mFFlr-MrN3QwjGX5E7pQ9LzFWOlDBJW_8ZiKbXonzN03WaepxSIiZ316E9jHlnzBswDXX9_SAZuBMz04Dq1nfzhyURGLkkLoiFqWh-Nau_phy5Vb1XR3M7mChMSHI7DWxeM_wOJlprPSGlTJUjq88wjLohUuN0irNFrCALXivIVZdJtM8uI/s320/adept%20and%20accursed%20thing.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Cult Adept<br />STR 11, DEX 10, WIL 13, 5 HP<br />Armour 2 (mystic aura), obsidian knife (d6)<br />Aura of Revulsion, enemies cower until WIL save succeeds<br />Steal Soul, target take d4 WIL damage, adds to Adept's STR<br />Driven to draw blood for a dark goddess<br /><br />Accursed Thing<br />STR 12, DEX 4, WIL 8, 7 HP<br />Driven to bite and to claw<br />Bite & Claw d8<br />once-human, warped by dark rituals</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br /><br />Emanations of soul-wrenching wrongness emanate from the Adept, and Bassianus is overcome by revulsion. He cowers behind the rattan throne. Geta, too, succumbs to the unholy power; he squawks once and flutters up out of reach atop the kitchen hutch used to store sacrificial implements. <span style="color: #800180;">[They failed their WIL saves]</span><br /><br />Athalie and Isabeau throw off the sour feeling and engage the pair of fiends. Athalie takes a swing at the Adept with her sword, but the blade is turned aside by some unseen force and what should had removed his head just bites into his shoulder <span style="color: #800180;">[6-2(armour) damage puts him at 1hp]</span>. The Adept strikes back with his obsidian knife, not connecting but forcing Athalie back a step or two <span style="color: #800180;">[1 damage leaves her with 4hp]</span>.<br /><br />Isabeau engages the <span style="font-family: georgia;">Thing</span>. It seems insensible to her sword point <span style="color: #800180;">[1 damage, to 6hp]</span>, but at least she mostly escapes its filthy, clutching claws <span style="color: #800180;">[3 damage puts her at 2hp]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br /><br />Bassianus and Geta are still whimpering with nausea <span style="color: #800180;">[WIL saves fail again]</span>. <br /><br />Athalie inflicts another minor wound on the Adept, but his resolve does not falter <span style="color: #800180;">[5-2=3dmg to 0hp, STR 9, d20=no crit]</span>. Isabeau is beginning to doubt that the <span style="font-family: georgia;">Thing</span> even notices the repeated stabbings <span style="color: #800180;">[4 damage, 2hp left]</span>.<br /><br />The <span style="font-family: georgia;">Thing</span> catches hold of Isabeau's left wrist, and drags her close to take a bite out of her upper arm <span style="color: #800180;">[7 damage to 0hp, STR 12, d20=1, no crit]</span>. She's too angry about the damage to the nice lace sleeve to feel any pain from the needle-like teeth.<br /><br />The Adept points his knife toward Athalie like a wand, and calling on the power of his Demon-liege, attempts to siphon her soul away though it. She feels the tug on her psyche, and stubbornly resists the seductive pull to surrender to it. But the Adept appears to have strengthened his own life force with the modicum of energy he stole <span style="color: #800180;">[1 WIL damage (to 15), Adept's STR up to 10]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 3]</span><br /><br />Athalie responds by laying open the Adept's forehead. He crashes bleeding to the floor. Isabeau finally thrusts her sword into a vital spot (gall bladder as the seat of power was an inobvious, yet effective choice). The <span style="font-family: georgia;">Thing</span> drops besides its master <span style="color: #800180;">[both took critical damage]</span>. They hack at their downed foes until it is certain the jumble of limbs and other odds & sods will pose no further threat.<br /><br />They take a few minutes to recover from the ordeal <span style="color: #800180;">[short rest, d6=no encounter]</span>. Isabeau grows bored first, and begins rooting round the cult's accoutrements for anything of potential value. Most of it is bizarre and worthless, but atop a low end-table in one corner she finds a collection of jewellery -- most likely belonging to former victims of the cult. She shows her comrades the trove she's uncovered before tucking it all safely away in her purse. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzXB1q_2o7GeLagipO-AOoU2ypzfUzzzSNJh1p-jokYUECauvjLlw_MbC6fm2j7MoX--AUrR5KOhQ50-xSmpZBdxm3PX0nMe1AgMc8i_bnzkjxqL65MMrwMr6_sZLEMocgTfrlJ_nTPX-hCI8BCPcBVqHtVwGRdtYDhHoiguDgAQYEfpwYmscX_eizZe8/s800/isabeau%20helps%20herself.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="571" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzXB1q_2o7GeLagipO-AOoU2ypzfUzzzSNJh1p-jokYUECauvjLlw_MbC6fm2j7MoX--AUrR5KOhQ50-xSmpZBdxm3PX0nMe1AgMc8i_bnzkjxqL65MMrwMr6_sZLEMocgTfrlJ_nTPX-hCI8BCPcBVqHtVwGRdtYDhHoiguDgAQYEfpwYmscX_eizZe8/w285-h400/isabeau%20helps%20herself.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: What treasure is here? <span style="font-family: georgia;">If this be secured, thou art greatly rich</span> - 10d10s worth of jewellery, but selling it in the wrong place will alert the authorities / invite revenge from the victims' families.<br /><br />Q: Does shrine altar have any power? likely (3+): O2 C5 - no]</span><br /><br />She hazards a look at the altar last of all -- approaching with extreme caution lest it contain some awful power -- and finds with mixed relief and disappointment that it holds little more than bloodstains and empty sardine tins used as incense burners.<br /><br />Isabeau also finds a passageway concealed behind the draperies, so once her friends can be arsed to continue -- I mean, once her friends are ready to once again face the untold horrors of the Underground -- they set off on their way.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 11]</b></span><br /><br />The passage leads almost immediately to another room, which looks to be the cultists' living quarters. The explorers are uninterested in rifling through their dirty linens, so make a hasty exit -- or endeavour to do so. Three cultists leap out from behind the furniture and come at them with wicked knives. The explorers are taken aback to see that these cultists are also persons of their acquaintance: Clodia, Gaius, and Caelius, who disappeared some short time ago. "Join us," they say in unison, whilst raising their knifes to answer any dissent.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[encounter = d4 cultists. Had this been a pre-planned dungeon, these cultists would have come into the next room when there were sounds of fighting. Since they didn't (as they didn't yet exist), I decided to justify it by making them cowards, who'd prepared an ambush Just In Case.<br /><br />The PCs needed DEX saves: 17,17,5 - only Isabeau avoids Surprise, allowing her to act in the first round.]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier;"> <u>STR DEX WIL HP</u><br />Clodia 15 10 12 3<br />Gaius 4 16 13 3<br />Caelius 11 12 11 4<br /><br />wicked knives (d6)</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br /><br />"I never did like you much," says Isabeau as she stabs at Clodia. The sword leaves a bloody but superficial wound in her side, and she lays into Isabeau with her dagger -- though with little real effect. <span style="color: #800180;">[Clodia took 4 damage, dropping her to 0hp, 14 STR; d20=2, no crit. She inflicted 2 damage on Isabeau, putting her at 3hp.]</span><br /><br />Bassianus and Athalie are still readying their arms as Gaius and Caelius spring at them. Bassianus feels the bite of Gaius's blade, but thanks to the power of the Titan Paste he just shrugs it off <span style="color: #800180;">[2 damage puts him at 0hp, 14 STR; d20=8, no crit]</span>. Athalie manages a weak defence, but fends off Caelius' wild attack <span style="color: #800180;">[4 damage, 1hp left]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br /><br />Bassianus cracks open Gaius's forehead with his hatchet <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage to 0hp, 2 STR, crit]</span>; he staggers back and topples onto a cot, insensate. <br /><br />Athalie slashes back at Caelius, but the pain of the cut into his shoulder only makes his eyes glitter with malicious glee <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage to 0hp, 10 STR, no crit]</span>. His dagger flashes before her eyes in a swift arc; a few centimetres further and she'd have lost an eye <span style="color: #800180;">[1 damage to 0hp]</span>.<br /><br />Isabeau sticks Clodia in the other flank, but she does not fall <span style="color: #800180;">[3 damage to 11 STR, no crit]</span>. And she's left herself wide open. Clodia gets in under her guard and sticks her knife deep into Isabeau's hip. She falls, clutching the painful wound <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage to 0hp, 10 STR, d20=16, crit]</span>.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfSvUWKwmTOfiAqpc_TCBF_2O8yx8_ZnLiGIHHCh8AApI6wPiraltqkZqV7xh_YjMpCcGJtqUtS8rkJpCA-s7D_35NsuW87icgNvqBMlNna2RRot4OUZ1vFyC9qCvs9NsF2_IkrJ1YiXMCyNTdxYXjVxo3itYt7pD6R1TXcquj0f19mvVsDlSeQVc_7w/s800/bassianus%20fighting%20cultists.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="539" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfSvUWKwmTOfiAqpc_TCBF_2O8yx8_ZnLiGIHHCh8AApI6wPiraltqkZqV7xh_YjMpCcGJtqUtS8rkJpCA-s7D_35NsuW87icgNvqBMlNna2RRot4OUZ1vFyC9qCvs9NsF2_IkrJ1YiXMCyNTdxYXjVxo3itYt7pD6R1TXcquj0f19mvVsDlSeQVc_7w/w270-h400/bassianus%20fighting%20cultists.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 3]</span><br /><br />Clodia is looming over Isabeau, about to finish her off, but Bassianus buries his hatchet in her shoulder <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage to 5 STR, crit]</span>. She drops beside Isabeau, their blood mingling in a pool on the tacky rug.<br /><br />Athalie strikes Caelius again, but the madman seems continually emboldened by the bloody gashes now criss-crossing his torso. <span style="color: #800180;">[3 damage to 7 STR, 3=no crit. He also needs to check Morale (a WIL save) since half his group has fallen. d20=5, he'll fight to the death.]</span><br /><br />Caelius dashes up to Athalie, and his knife slides effortlessly between two of her ribs. She looks down in shock for a moment, then staggers backwards, tripping over Isabeau and crashing down into the bloody pool beside her. <span style="color: #800180;">[6 damage dropped her to 6 STR, 11=crit]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 4]</span><br /><br />Caelius' cackles of glee are cut short as Bassianus crashes his hatchet down at the base of his skull.<br /><br />Bassianus sets about reviving his fallen companions, though his bedside manner is a curious admixture of 'you poor sausage' and 'quit your whingeing'. He does help both of them to sterilise their wounds (and throats!) with alcohol, and as they are binding their injuries with makeshift bandages he sees to it that none of the vile cultists are left breathing. <span style="color: #800180;">[short rest, HP to full, no encounters]</span><br /><br />Having already ascertained that the cultists possess nothing of value, the explorers exit the chamber. They soon come to a Y-intersection. After much deliberation, they eventually just let Athalie pick a branch and go on their way. <span style="color: #800180;">[I had her make a WIL save to pick the correct direction (d20=4, success). Failure would have meant that the first time they reached the goal/reward hex on the hexflower actually brought them to a dead end.]</span><br /><br />More occult symbols have been scrawled on the walls of the passage. Having seen what passes for a wicked cult down here, the explorers do not deign to examine them. Terrible scraping echo down the passage, getting louder as they proceed down it -- ever more slowly and cautiously than before. The temperature drops sharply as they approach a doorway ahead. They cannot see inside, for everything is obscured by a swirling, opalescent mist, which is blindingly opaque in the lantern light.<br /><br />"You're sure the way is through here..." says Bassianus.<br /><br />"Unfortunately," says Athalie.<br /><br />"You're positive?" asks Isabeau.<br /><br />"Very well," sighs Athalie, and walks slowly into the mist, sword before her as much for defence as for finding obstacles before tripping over them.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 12]</b></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[contents: uncomfortably cold, pearlescent mist, grating noises<br />Q: Does the mist have any effect? 50/50 (4+): O1 C6 - no]</span><br /><br />She can see nothing but swirls of white. The sharp grating sounds hurt her ears, and the frost bites her face and hands, but after a few moments she comes to believe that these petty discomfitures are the worst she'll have to contend within this blind chamber. She goes back to her companions, and convinces them to follow her round the wall of the chamber to discover an exit.<br /><br />This they do, and despite the clamorous grinding, the bitter cold, and the awful, blinding blankness, they pass through to the other side unharmed.<br /><br /><b><span style="color: #800180;">[Room 13]</span><br /></b><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[contents: gentle breeze, strange ribbons of light =<span style="font-family: georgia;">Confines of Eternity</span>]</span><br /><br />A warm, slightly humid current of air greets them as they step into an irregularly shaped chamber. Ribbons of rainbow-hued light twist round and sway like streamers in a breeze, filling the chamber with a soft glow. Their gentle, sinuous motions are quite enchanting, and the explorers cannot but help themselves, pausing to stare in rapt wonderment at the lovely colours.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[They need WIL saves to not become entranced: Bassianus fails.]</span><br /><br />Athalie and Isabeau come to their senses and look away from the charming display before it draws them in too far. But Bassianus is rendered numb by the beatific sight, and offers no resistance as one of the strands wraps slowly about him <span style="color: #800180;">[and drains d6=2 WIL -- he's down to 1!]</span>. Geta screeches and launches himself from Bassianus' shoulder, flying off to where the lights cannot reach him <span style="color: #800180;">[WIL save succeeded on a natural 1]</span>.<br /><br />"What is it with him and cosmic enrapturements," grumbles Isabeau, grabbing his hand to pull him out of the room <span style="color: #800180;">[STR save succeeds]</span>. Fortunately the light ribbons snap back into the chamber as she pulls him through the doorway. She leans him against the brick wall opposite the loud, gurgling pipes. <br /><br />When Bassianus comes back to his senses, his two companions are looking at him crossly. Even Geta, perched for the moment on Isabeau's arm, is giving him an accusing stare. "Can we talk about this later?" he asks.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf11d1XA548bYrnCpWqqKPR7VYAR_OYU2zQF2HyNxqpWGrMc6R5HkvlT6il_I78tBzyugJuIbH6mSyV0MM3cm-yoOginUzWazKHLbIClUq3yOPBr7j4pEqhUs7punUmCAKesSTfFrIklvWDNMjftDc3mAJfNjrwN2su3PAorpq_vRK1eU0toD-9PJXj3o/s750/in%20the%20passage.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="465" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf11d1XA548bYrnCpWqqKPR7VYAR_OYU2zQF2HyNxqpWGrMc6R5HkvlT6il_I78tBzyugJuIbH6mSyV0MM3cm-yoOginUzWazKHLbIClUq3yOPBr7j4pEqhUs7punUmCAKesSTfFrIklvWDNMjftDc3mAJfNjrwN2su3PAorpq_vRK1eU0toD-9PJXj3o/w248-h400/in%20the%20passage.jpg" width="248" /></a></div><i>next post: the epicure, the flesh thief, and the skeletal ungulate</i><br /><br /></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-74699761323392448602023-07-05T19:59:00.002+01:002023-07-05T19:59:20.260+01:00ItO solo - Part III : A jaunt through the sewers<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCp8vSoi5uvJ6_zA6lgwy2m-DmzT1mB9Ty567iN1lMDWh0L8zoeoYQ29Oi7vB9PdYCLelFHrbxUC2UZRpLr8mp5dFOy8No9NsPsF5xDCs-PYl0lI0ablECVtb9G9QMdii8rBeCrCGrD8cEwRAQcbjXY_fAIUQmfurt9rJnoYCGZHwivG1zzrUMPA1za_w/s950/which%20way.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="542" data-original-width="950" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCp8vSoi5uvJ6_zA6lgwy2m-DmzT1mB9Ty567iN1lMDWh0L8zoeoYQ29Oi7vB9PdYCLelFHrbxUC2UZRpLr8mp5dFOy8No9NsPsF5xDCs-PYl0lI0ablECVtb9G9QMdii8rBeCrCGrD8cEwRAQcbjXY_fAIUQmfurt9rJnoYCGZHwivG1zzrUMPA1za_w/w640-h365/which%20way.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>The damp air wafting up from the yawning sewer entrance smells like a waterlogged crypt. Past a rusting grate, worn stone stairs lead down to a poorly-lit platform. At the bottom the explorers are greeted by a sign reading 'this way to the sewer taxi', but as they are too skint to consider it, so must they instead follow a parallel passage. Isabeau illumines her lantern and they proceed -- swords and hatchet at the ready, as gunfire in the sewers is likely to deafen them all, or set off dangerous gasses, or attract who-knows-what.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The dungeon was run using the <a href="https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/314715/In-the-Heart-of-the-Delve--Dangerous--Procedural-Network-Dungeon-Crawling-Engine">In the Heart of the Delve & Dangerous</a> hexflowers. I used the Optional Chamber Dressing tables as is, and filled in the Encounter chart as I went, using the sample one as a relative indicator of power level and generating the monsters with a mixture of random pictures and oracle prompts. Stats were 3d6 unless I felt strongly about what they should be, HP were 1-3d6 depending on power level. Minor enemies have truncated stat blocks, where attributes not specifically noted are 10 (as in the rulebook). Powers were made up on the spot to make things interesting/fun/fatal.<br /><br />Rather than trying to explain how the Hexflowers work, I'm just going to describe the rooms and note a few key results; there's a fully explained example of lay included with ItHotDnD rules (which are PWYW). It's also hard to keep track (sensibly) of the moves from hex to hex. I tried making lines to follow in paint, but doing it legibly would have slowed down gameplay too much. I switched to moving tokens (extra dice) on a printout, which is what I recommend doing if you can set it up somewhere your cats can't reach. Just sayin'. My only other observation is that it really needs some sort of treasure generator. There isn't one, and I mostly forgot to include any because of this.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAtsGUuV4Abocs3QvksU_JILXbwbJZx-ZTC4CT0sXAXfKwt_G-ulO0ZTtT2xKsHFvd6f6rU3Y7O9m2Qd77Hc7QV85ZDdxEfGpEt-WEMpH8PcwTBY4e-eLyc0bLEv7fXsgTmv7x8IApizrQBJY4fk_-aXreXCuPsy87g5ugJ06HC9QuQJZM9937x6bZVlM/s600/IMG_3492.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAtsGUuV4Abocs3QvksU_JILXbwbJZx-ZTC4CT0sXAXfKwt_G-ulO0ZTtT2xKsHFvd6f6rU3Y7O9m2Qd77Hc7QV85ZDdxEfGpEt-WEMpH8PcwTBY4e-eLyc0bLEv7fXsgTmv7x8IApizrQBJY4fk_-aXreXCuPsy87g5ugJ06HC9QuQJZM9937x6bZVlM/s320/IMG_3492.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>The map was just scratched on the back of an old party character sheet that didn't print correctly, and got tea spilt on it besides. And cat fur. I tried making one that looked like it came from an old book, but I ended up hating the final result. So I started over, trying to cut&paste the room/corridor level as a clipping mask onto a background I had made but didn't know what to do with; I don't remember what new effect I was trying to achieve, but I'm enamoured of what happened instead.]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGJyxCe1VRUBIrHdu9fv-BHF4DAITCqUY6NtWEOikTHNTlMTzhXvG7vl156MpJo9ADJXk5vcA5VmL1fRNrYO5PxS6Pyrkl7ohrab-8H2T1-u8f--G086K_Jj6dhNpf-haMR1kFaDZ8GtoVzVlYWO0WWLmJhQ1_3BHoj6MY7dy2jhObpv3WBQfvabLZI1I/s1327/adventure%201%20sewer%20map.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="783" data-original-width="1327" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGJyxCe1VRUBIrHdu9fv-BHF4DAITCqUY6NtWEOikTHNTlMTzhXvG7vl156MpJo9ADJXk5vcA5VmL1fRNrYO5PxS6Pyrkl7ohrab-8H2T1-u8f--G086K_Jj6dhNpf-haMR1kFaDZ8GtoVzVlYWO0WWLmJhQ1_3BHoj6MY7dy2jhObpv3WBQfvabLZI1I/w640-h378/adventure%201%20sewer%20map.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 1]</b></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[no encounter/hazard; smell - blooming orchard]</span> <br /><br />The first room to which they come has a low vaulted ceiling, and other than bits of detritus and shreds of ancient notices peeling off the brickwork, contains little of interest. The atmosphere in the chamber is wholly unexpected, however.<br /><br />"I was afraid the air down here was going to be beyond disgusting," says Athalie, "but it smells like a blooming orchard in here."<br /><br />"I never knew you to mince your words, my sweet," responds Isabeau.<br /><br />"I wasn't, dear heart. Let me try again: it smells like a fucking orchard in bloom."<br /><br />"It does at that!"<br /><br />"I doubt this good fortune will last," says Bassianus. "Which way now?"<br /><br />"The sewer taxi runs in roughly this direction," says Athalie, pointing, "so we should try that door."<br /><br />Beyond the door is a damp passage, partly lit by storm drains high overhead, and with the fragrance as one expects of a sewer, sadly. It ends after a short way in another heavy door, the twin of the one they'd just taken.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 2]</b></span><br /><br />Behind it is a circular domed room of rough, cracking concrete, completely dry and arid. Rusting vents set into the walls draw in air, filling the room with slow cross-currents of air. As the explorers make their way across the rubbish-strewn floor, two childlike shadowy forms slip from between the corroded slats of a vent and rush at Isabeau. <span style="color: #800180;">[encounter: d6=2 <span style="font-family: georgia;">Invading Gloom</span>]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-5CwC1kBdUAq1CRfpWskBre6T425D2zJg8_q8pmv5bxpA6-BeplnY1gs8WUCDBMb3QwTrKqkGc_yvnPa-vYqJsZthtMRRI45RtuteuUn_-I4V2mhWEEXb5ZNtA1CFPrMxrvWoX2sXQxM04Bueav3kqOKjvSZdiDyEk6K5qgwHpG0TwmNLZMX5BSBrPU/s565/invading%20gloom%2011051394196_54061ffc89_o.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="565" data-original-width="528" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm-5CwC1kBdUAq1CRfpWskBre6T425D2zJg8_q8pmv5bxpA6-BeplnY1gs8WUCDBMb3QwTrKqkGc_yvnPa-vYqJsZthtMRRI45RtuteuUn_-I4V2mhWEEXb5ZNtA1CFPrMxrvWoX2sXQxM04Bueav3kqOKjvSZdiDyEk6K5qgwHpG0TwmNLZMX5BSBrPU/s320/invading%20gloom%2011051394196_54061ffc89_o.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Invading Gloom<br />STR 8, DEX 12, WIL 12, 2hp<br />Driven to extinguish light<br />Obscure Claws, no damage but extinguish light source if DEX save failed<br />Shadowy form: attacks by non-light bearers are Impaired</span><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span><div><span style="color: #800180;">[DEX Saves to avoid surprise miraculously all succeed]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br /><br />The little fiends seem intent on dousing Isabeau's lantern, but she holds it high above her head, and though they leap at it with outstretched claws, they cannot touch it. Athalie swings her sword straight through one of the little fiends. It comes away with some small measure of shadow-stuff adhering to it, but the creature is mostly unharmed <span style="color: #800180;">[d4=1 damage]</span>. Isabeau's sword, bathed fully in the light of her lamp, does considerably better, and the creature dissolves in a fleeting puff of darkness as her blade bisects it vertically <span style="color: #800180;">[5 damage, crit]</span>.<br /><br />Bassianus' hatchet and Geta's talons tear wisps from the second creature, and though none of the cuts is telling, they still get the better of the little beast who dissolves back into nothingness <span style="color: #800180;">[1+2=3 dmg to 0hp, 7 STR; 19=crit]</span>.<br /><br />A door is set into a recess in the wall directly opposite the one they just entered. The explorers are through it in an instant, lest more of the shadow children arrive.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 3]</b></span><br /><br />A blast of chill and damp greets them as they step out onto a metal platform. A long steel bridge stretches out into the darkness before them, suspended precariously over a yawning black chasm. Bassianus looks for a pebble to toss in to sound its depth, but his companions restrain him. "Best not, my dear. You don't want to disturb anything that makes such a place its home."<br /><br />"Indeed," he says, and abandons the search.<br /><br />Athalie moves slowly to the edge of the bridge, tests the rusty iron railing and finds it sound, if disconcertingly low. She gingerly places one foot on the steel mesh bottom, and is relieved that it does not shift beneath her weight. <br /><br />"I think it will hold. But I'm afraid you must go first with the light, my sweet."<br /><br />"I do so wish we could see the far side," says Isabeau as she steps tentatively past her friend.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[encounter: <span style="font-family: georgia;">Spotless Victim</span><br />Q: Is it dangerous? 50/50 (4+): O4 C3 - yes, but... not intrinsically]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier;">Spotless Victim<br />STR 6, DEX 8, WIL 4, 1hp<br />Driven to beg for scraps</span><br /><br />When they've gone about two dozen metres -- each with one hand ever gripping the flimsy rail -- the lantern's light reveals a pure white lamb roped to the railing. It climbs to its feet as the explorers draw near, and looks up at them with sad, soulful eyes.<br /><br />"I'm sorry, dear, but I've nothing to feed you," says Isabeau. The lamb bleats in reply. It nuzzles each of them hopefully as they pass it by, and bleats anew, with ever increasing insistence.<br /><br />But the noise has disturbed the THING which dwells in the benighted abyss. Scores of oily, whip-like tentacles shoot up from below, grasping blindly at the source of the sound. The lamb is soon held fast, and before the explorers' horrified eyes is ripped down into the darkness with an awful snap as its leash breaks, sending shivers down the length of the railing.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiNIb4SK68hciS17rZR7u5TVRnWMhbczvXdjpJl5-X0gozKKJH3Fk_wNMs1IN8MCjXAUMGuBmqOVTA8zUMWRIT-SJv6EW_9qZGbHAtGHPf8n81N0FplQSEKtrFMwItCfKDKH3sVoltaitIw3iPjs5Dha79-gwgMEHwbSYQWAllkTbF55qVnDH5sfjfQls/s800/tentacles.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiNIb4SK68hciS17rZR7u5TVRnWMhbczvXdjpJl5-X0gozKKJH3Fk_wNMs1IN8MCjXAUMGuBmqOVTA8zUMWRIT-SJv6EW_9qZGbHAtGHPf8n81N0FplQSEKtrFMwItCfKDKH3sVoltaitIw3iPjs5Dha79-gwgMEHwbSYQWAllkTbF55qVnDH5sfjfQls/s320/tentacles.jpg" /></a></div>Athalie ducks and weaves round the clutching tentacles, and bolts ahead into the blackness beyond the lantern's reach, running blindly along the narrow bridge before collapsing onto a platform at the other end. She looks back and sees Bassianus and Isabeau struggling against the tentacles binding them. A tremendous effort from each throws them off, and they scurry to join Athalie on the other side. As the bobbing lamplight reveals a door, Athalie throws it open and ducks inside, slamming it once her companions (and Bassianus' damned useless hawk) have crossed the threshold.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The needed DEX saves to avoid being caught: only Athalie & Geta made theirs. Athalie needed a second DEX save to avoid a mishap as she ran through the dark; fortunately she succeeded in that as well.<br /><br />Bassianus & Isabeau needed STR rolls to wrench free of the tentacles; the dice were very kind.]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 4]</b></span><br /><br />The room they find themselves in is another circular concrete dome. Dead and sodden leaves litter the ground, smelling not unpleasantly of a hothouse. Besides a toppled, now three-legged card table and a plethora of empty bottlesm there is nothing else here.<br /><br />A passageway leads to...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 5]</b></span><br /><br />...a square chamber, swept entirely bare. The walls are completely smooth, and covered from floor to ceiling with sinister occult symbols. Athalie pauses to study them...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Any effect from looking at them? Unlikely (5+): O3 C2 - no, and... essentially indecipherable]</span><br /><br />...but must soon admit she can't decipher a single one.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCZhmhmjEA8n15M9H9w3iCvU8X9N-gwCAhR6fAKJkR2ieI4_AQiZV1GhO_xjbDJZWTbJ_DLg4k1Tl-I0rRS5Rh-YAitQCJhLBvgnc5icYhi9XbKQwsbhBMYPiAxWkWcMfr9IYoXAvvS20LWpYzyLj4eJZJg2ZPFS6bE6qnU3wUnC_LAzMdQXmY8T6GD34/s800/tar%20pits.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="622" data-original-width="800" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCZhmhmjEA8n15M9H9w3iCvU8X9N-gwCAhR6fAKJkR2ieI4_AQiZV1GhO_xjbDJZWTbJ_DLg4k1Tl-I0rRS5Rh-YAitQCJhLBvgnc5icYhi9XbKQwsbhBMYPiAxWkWcMfr9IYoXAvvS20LWpYzyLj4eJZJg2ZPFS6bE6qnU3wUnC_LAzMdQXmY8T6GD34/w400-h311/tar%20pits.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 6]</b></span><br /><br />As they take a short passage to the next chamber, the temperature drops sharply and the scent of cheap perfume wafts over them. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[chamber dressing: perfumey taste, flame spouting tar pits, very cold]</span><br /><br />The passage opens into a vast space like the undercroft of a cathedral, with stout square columns curving out into squared vaults. A network of steel bridges and platforms criss-cross the room, whose iron railings glitter with frost. Below are pits of a bubbling, grey, tarry substance, at once the source of both the odour and the cold, despite occasionally bursting with gouts of crimson flame. <br /><br />"Whatever it is," says Bassianus, "we'd ought not to touch it." His companions look on with splenetic consternation, as they wonder why he felt it necessary to pronounce so obvious an admonition.<br /><br />The gratings clank with their footsteps as they traverse the chamber. But unbeknownst to them all, a star cultist has concealed <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=]</span> himself in a small recess, having been alerted to the explorers' arrival by the approaching lantern light.<br /><br /><span><span style="font-family: courier;">star cultist (4hp, rusty knife d6)<br /></span><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[I gave the PCs WIL saves to avoid getting ambushed; only Athalie succeeded. But she needs a DEX save to act before cultist attacks (d2=)B: d20=19, failure]</span></span><br /><br />Not trusting the flimsy gangways to support them all, the explorers each take a separate route across. Athalie sees movement in the corner of her eye, and hasn't even time to call out when she notices the hidden cultist step from the shadows and slash at Bassianus' back with his rusty knife. The blade lays open his shirt and traces a long read line upon his pasty skin. <span style="color: #800180;">[the attack is Enhanced; d12=4 damage to 0hp, STR 15, but d20=2, B avoids critical damage]</span><br /><br />Athalie is already running to his aid, and in mere moments has crossed the platform to answer the cultist's steel with her own. Her sword flashes once, and the cultist crumbles before her. <span style="color: #800180;">[6 damage put him at 0hp, 8STR; d20=20, critical damage]</span><br /><br />Isabeau tends to Bassianus' wound -- it's messy, but largely superficial -- whilst Athalie shoves the unconscious cultist off the edge of the platform into the grey tar. Bassianus begins to complain that the fumes are making him woozy, so Isabeau abandons her ministrations and the three press on. <span style="color: #800180;">[due to the cloying odour, Short Rests are impossible in this room]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSynRifaLpuGDjuI7NEDwUyIHiUE5PMda0jCivjOOVTzL-jqgh5qsvUdcJpQzefmvI5j5D-rK2ek-S9dRBH7zj49u_RiI8RhA2rS2qimiCSomE3DUgj5_zq7ayYyfAYmM6iudvfoz2rdbwr3LEb69mYDHqP4uot5QVaZybXfFURfINYBJVDs1v16WCfk/s832/pavillion%20of%20darkness.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="509" data-original-width="832" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFSynRifaLpuGDjuI7NEDwUyIHiUE5PMda0jCivjOOVTzL-jqgh5qsvUdcJpQzefmvI5j5D-rK2ek-S9dRBH7zj49u_RiI8RhA2rS2qimiCSomE3DUgj5_zq7ayYyfAYmM6iudvfoz2rdbwr3LEb69mYDHqP4uot5QVaZybXfFURfINYBJVDs1v16WCfk/w400-h245/pavillion%20of%20darkness.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 7]</b></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[contents: mortal danger/hazard -- <span style="font-family: georgia;">Pavilion of Darkness</span>]</span><br /><br />They find the first passage out and follow it into a vast empty chamber, so great the lantern's light does not reach any side walls, nor reveal the height of the ceiling. They creep forward over the uneven ground, and slowly a structure comes into view in the nothingness. It's the size of a modest lych gate, made of blocks of an unknown stone, and recalls an ancient shrine in shape. An opening or doorway beckons the explorers, but all is darkness within. <br /><br />They creep up to it, caution briefly overcome by curiosity. Isabeau hold her lantern high, and tries to illuminate the interior without crossing the threshold, but the light is swallowed up by the void. None are mad enough to step inside, so they give it a wide berth and look for a way out. Athalie hazards a glance back at it over her shoulder, and finds that the structure always appears to her head on, regardless of her position in the room.<br /><br />They find the wall of the chamber and follow it round, finding it to be an odd shape. They abruptly come to another passage, long and narrow, which leads them to...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 8]</b></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Sanctuary / area of relative safety]</span><br /><br />...a circular sewer temple, dedicated to Venus Cloacina. There is no other exit from here than the one they came in, so the explorers choose to wait here a few minutes to rest before going back on their tracks to find another path. They don't go near the altar, lest the goddess curse them for some accidental blasphemy (which, they admit to themselves silently, they'd most likely commit).<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[short rest, no encounter, Bassianus gets his HP back]</span> <br /><br />They go back to the dark chamber, hugging the wall so as not to reveal the mysterious stone pavilion with their light, though acutely aware of its pull. It's almost a relief when they reach the freezing tar pit chamber <span style="color: #800180;">[room 6]</span>, from which they take the side exit, leading almost immediately to...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Room 9]</b></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[feature - pits (tar, normal) ; encounter - <span style="font-family: georgia;">bloody Scourge</span>]</span><br /><br />...another chamber filled with tar pits, though of the more conventional sort. Several drudges are hard at work, shovelling tar into the iron receptacles of some mechanical conveyance system. They are fully absorbed in -- or rather, completely dulled by -- their task, and pay the explorers no mind. Not so the overseer, who flexes his muscles and snaps his scourge, barking at the new arrivals.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is the overseer at all amenable to letting them past? unlikely (5+): O1 C4 - no, but... could be bribed]</span><br /><br />"Get to work, you loafers, or you'll feel my sting!"<br /><br />"We're not workers," says Athalie. "Why, one need only look at us. This is my best frock!" <br /><br />"'tisn't really," mutters Isabeau.<br /><br />"Quiet, dear, you're not helping."<br /><br />"What these two charming ladies are trying to say," interjects Bassianus, "is that we are obviously the cream of society, and the only reason we must pass through this place is to get to the sewer taxi."<br /><br />"The sewer taxi," muses the overseer. "Well, if yer to take the sewer taxi, that means you have money. Perhaps I'd be believing you, if I were to see some of it."<br /><br />"Yes. Indeed, my good man. I, er... Geta, attack!"<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEB7WO44lBxaF5yCBJOaEt0x_OR5FVUwy5FmJ5OJfGy71QoxmCWho7f9gpgTzDOHZVedKiTriCBkNYGGJWdlhY7NreTvHazRngt9OlW9wkKdvvvlGvEVT_DsRhdxhbIm_0Viu3x-XucReguv-W04sygX5L204DZSr8LVuaHTMms_nFGC9gqoyPyPGifV0/s540/overseer.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="447" data-original-width="540" height="331" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEB7WO44lBxaF5yCBJOaEt0x_OR5FVUwy5FmJ5OJfGy71QoxmCWho7f9gpgTzDOHZVedKiTriCBkNYGGJWdlhY7NreTvHazRngt9OlW9wkKdvvvlGvEVT_DsRhdxhbIm_0Viu3x-XucReguv-W04sygX5L204DZSr8LVuaHTMms_nFGC9gqoyPyPGifV0/w400-h331/overseer.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Overseer<br />STR 14, 6hp, scourge d8</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The overseer needs a DEX save: d20=11, failure - can't attack in the surprise round.<br /><br />Bassianus & Geta do 6 & 4 damage respectively, dropping him to 0hp, 10 STR; d20=14, critical]</span><br /><br />The hawk flies right for the overseer's face, tearing at his eyes with beak and talon. Bassianus springs forward with his hatchet, and buries it between two of the man's ribs. His face assumes a (more) vacant expression, and he topples senseless and bleeding to the ground. The drudges take no notice of the event, and our heroes continue hastily on their way.<br /><br />A short passage leads to the top of a spiral staircase, which leads the explorers down<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwGjsMXstznqvgGarJdscZ9sGVSw1aN1sdyfxZAglH_HDBt3Ke-og6ulxorQXw9whm2y9mQv0p32m3cZa3ycFPnMfDscIHL5oevCTJtSZCdOe8y_Ww-oBteWOYY8Hw-i1uJSv4z8bkFOAVjwbtqCw3nUMF1NqLcGxQIIZ4aPv-UG9uiZMWPE7jApJdD4/s845/down_down_down.jpg" style="clear: left; display: block; float: left; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="845" data-original-width="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYwGjsMXstznqvgGarJdscZ9sGVSw1aN1sdyfxZAglH_HDBt3Ke-og6ulxorQXw9whm2y9mQv0p32m3cZa3ycFPnMfDscIHL5oevCTJtSZCdOe8y_Ww-oBteWOYY8Hw-i1uJSv4z8bkFOAVjwbtqCw3nUMF1NqLcGxQIIZ4aPv-UG9uiZMWPE7jApJdD4/s16000/down_down_down.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div> down<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> down<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"> down</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"> down</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> down</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><i>next post: evil cults and misplaced literary references</i><br /><br /></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-57283059649730732792023-06-29T20:31:00.000+01:002023-06-29T20:31:15.415+01:00ItO solo - Part II : Blood and goo<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSOjzS-HLmbGQJlUpJkZf4mJ9qvOBjAVpgNA__zFZjXSO2by2rkxa9pwgN0cdLk-vYObpC8jjlZ8ZwflAhhxG2DVyb4-_aG7VvbPA6Bq3iIiT3YPyEWMBFr8vlHvwKZUV7eR4Hls9b8XxkGZ3E3qjzNZm4-UJDkOnVsZV0c1MYWwwXC8CXnDxSXkfPetc/s800/happier%20times.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="621" data-original-width="800" height="497" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSOjzS-HLmbGQJlUpJkZf4mJ9qvOBjAVpgNA__zFZjXSO2by2rkxa9pwgN0cdLk-vYObpC8jjlZ8ZwflAhhxG2DVyb4-_aG7VvbPA6Bq3iIiT3YPyEWMBFr8vlHvwKZUV7eR4Hls9b8XxkGZ3E3qjzNZm4-UJDkOnVsZV0c1MYWwwXC8CXnDxSXkfPetc/w640-h497/happier%20times.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>"I've no idea how to find our way back through this maze," says Bassianus, "so let's hope pressing on will lead us through the other side."<br /><br />Isabeau draws and cocks her pistol. "I'm sorry in advance," says she, "if I have to fire this in such cramped confines."<br /><br />"I'm still half-deaf from the last time," says Athalie.<br /><br />They creep forward through the damp murky passage... <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The temple is a separate Random Location Crafting area, so has its own Turn sequence, starting again with 0. When they get out, the original turn sequence will continue where it left off.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">~T0 : random - none - random<br />Location: Tranquil, Ruined<br />Object: Meaningful, Enormous</span></b><br /><br />...soon arriving at a spacious, though still very low chamber. It seems this is the area where cult services are held; rotting prayer mats are arrayed haphazardly about the grimy floor, all pointing vaguely towards an altarpiece made of the bones of some unknown, gargantuan creature. <br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">~T1 : random - none - expected<br />Location: Mysterious, Artistic</span></b><br /><br />A corridor leads out behind the altar. The bone motif continues in the passage, though the bits are from smaller beasts, embedded in the plaster in whorling patterns.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">~T2 : random - random - expected<br />Location: Mundane, Lonely<br />Encounter: Fearful, Playful</span></b><br /><br />An open doorway in the wall reveals an office of sorts. An inkstained desk is piled high with ledgers and crumpled receipts. The explorers can't resist a peek at the temple accounts. "Well, I never," mutters Isabeau. "They're in more debt than we are."<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-Fuui9Yvakbmy4AWCjCFdKxtjO9EbRhNcuSq3b_nJufShH8Vz8wX2nfxA8qvl0PhD_fbkCSQ9YNMe0YiCLt-eL3Uh5mi9eh0W1USLr_XkyDidJpmf1SymB_BbqubPJOqaZjVEGTKnh5PmJlw5CBlGl7TVtgy4ykbjF5LreMBMAfHqQfhGGuAEDqMrCs/s750/cult%20documents.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="485" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR-Fuui9Yvakbmy4AWCjCFdKxtjO9EbRhNcuSq3b_nJufShH8Vz8wX2nfxA8qvl0PhD_fbkCSQ9YNMe0YiCLt-eL3Uh5mi9eh0W1USLr_XkyDidJpmf1SymB_BbqubPJOqaZjVEGTKnh5PmJlw5CBlGl7TVtgy4ykbjF5LreMBMAfHqQfhGGuAEDqMrCs/s320/cult%20documents.jpg" /></a></div>A rustling under a stack of greasy papers arrests Bassianus' attention. He springs back in surprise, then, having collected himself, moves the papers aside with the blade of his hatchet to reveal someone's pet stoat scurrying about. Bassianus feeds it to his hawk.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">~T3 : random - random - random<br />Location: Enclosed, Threatening<br />Encounter: Slow, Mysterious<br />Object: Positive, Powerful</span></b><br /><br />At the end of the passage is a stout iron door, which proves to be locked. Athalie fetches some pens from the office to use as makeshift lockpicks whilst the others stand guard. <span style="color: #800180;">[Per the rulebook, actions like lockpicking succeed automatically unless there is time pressure -- but taking time results in a random encounter check: d6= no encounter.]</span><br /><br />The door grates open, and from the abject blackness within comes a wave of dank(er), frigid air. A faint rattle of chains is heard within.<br /><br />Bassianus takes a torch down from a wall sconce, and struggles to light the damp wood as Athalie and Isabeau keep their eyes trained on the darkness, ready with sword and pistol should something emerge. <br /><br />The torch, once lit, reveals a vaulted stone cellar. Rusting iron chains are set at various points into the wall. A miserable creature shrinks from the harsh light, moving away as far as its chains permit. The thing has a low, swollen, sausage-shaped body, four stubby legs, and a comical ursine head. Short, coarse, reddish brown fur covers the whole, worn away in parts by rubbing chains and general ill treatment. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhen0DNHwHqBZoKXFhicl59zDAN0Fs3CPxqpI6i0Nb9TT2p-JYocTeB1fMav6uo4Kh1MeOk2VxQ3v722ScNP-H1BMk_g0IhXi5GWDdhKR-H0Ira3jwGeciFiHJbr4tbtm6wdtECzP5lEu3Y3qSOMwwJSMnasgwOdRl3d-4M3e_7rD41SJlPesPOi6tpW0k/s932/glurg_in_cell.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="763" data-original-width="932" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhen0DNHwHqBZoKXFhicl59zDAN0Fs3CPxqpI6i0Nb9TT2p-JYocTeB1fMav6uo4Kh1MeOk2VxQ3v722ScNP-H1BMk_g0IhXi5GWDdhKR-H0Ira3jwGeciFiHJbr4tbtm6wdtECzP5lEu3Y3qSOMwwJSMnasgwOdRl3d-4M3e_7rD41SJlPesPOi6tpW0k/s320/glurg_in_cell.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">The Creeping Glurg<br />STR 14, DEX 5, WIL 13, 3hp<br />bite (d6)</span><br /><br />It blinks against the light then addresses the explorers in an unaccountably silken voice. "You are not of the Family. Free me, and I can reward you. But I can do nothing whilst bound with these chains -- they rob me of my power."<br /><br />"Poor thing," says Athalie, moved by the piteous sight. "We'd ought to help it." The others concur, though Isabeau's finger remains firmly on the trigger of her pistol. Athalie hefts her sword, then brings it down on the rusty chain. The corroded link is sundered and the blade sparks off the stone floor. <span style="color: #800180;">[a STR save was needed to cut through in one swing without breaking the sword]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Was this a terrible idea? unlikely (5+): O2 C3 - no, and... <br />Q: What is reward? <span style="font-family: georgia;">Almighty Power</span>]</span><br /><br />"I thank you most heartily. I am known amongst your sages as the Creeping Glurg. Now, to your reward."<br /><br />The Glurg retches up a loaf of phosphorescent yellow paste about the size of a pint glass.<br /><br />"Smear this on your limbs, and you shall feel the strength of a titan. Would that these chains had not prevented me from using it myself!" <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Titan Paste:</b> STR 18 until depleted through damage, one use, takes about 10 minutes to apply all the doughy substance]</span><br /><br />"How did you come to be here, O Glurg?" asks Athalie. <span style="color: #800180;">[WIL save succeeds, good reaction]</span><br /><br />"I made the mistake of listening to the old man's psalms. His servants fettered me in their dungeon and planned to sacrifice me to the great star fiends at the equinox."<br /><br />"Do you know the way out?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: does it? unlikely (5+): O2 C6 - no]</span><br /><br />"I regret that I do not."<br /><br />"Follow us then. We'll find it together."<br /><br />"I will follow you. But go not too quickly, I beseech you."<br /><br />The Glurg trundles after them as they pass through a door on the far side of the vault.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">~T4 : complete - random - none<br />Encounter: Unexpected, Military</span></b><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF0qXtOvzydQyhZnrQf5d5COSCj62PQVSWSt6iOXzLl6fzwXmal_5RbeKc6EeSP8_MJfOWqUjxIokUZZ9yCqnAoIOdL9ZtYpAMFqY2ECalrBBjOjcq-1-RwKpKmnSr8KikTvPuOH6h9q_vJ69mtZBncPe_kBzvB_R_1QRqu2podEEMcv2YWUWdyDMPju0/s750/cult%20mercenaries.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="435" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF0qXtOvzydQyhZnrQf5d5COSCj62PQVSWSt6iOXzLl6fzwXmal_5RbeKc6EeSP8_MJfOWqUjxIokUZZ9yCqnAoIOdL9ZtYpAMFqY2ECalrBBjOjcq-1-RwKpKmnSr8KikTvPuOH6h9q_vJ69mtZBncPe_kBzvB_R_1QRqu2podEEMcv2YWUWdyDMPju0/s320/cult%20mercenaries.jpg" /></a></div>The room beyond is indeed the way out, as the heavy, barred door and nearby umbrella stand attest. But barring the way are <span style="color: #800180;">[1d3=]</span> a pair of mercenaries hired by the cult to guard the exit. They are currently engaged in normal mercenary activities, such as standing round a sparsely furnished room in dynamic poses and kissing their swords (vide supra).<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Per the Hirelings section of the rulebook, the mercenaries have STR/DEX/WIL 10, 2d6 hp, sword]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br /><br />Isabeau discharges her pistol without a second thought, but the ball just grazes her target, possibly only tearing the fabric of his voluminous sleeve. Athalie runs up with her sword, but he parries every thrust. <span style="color: #800180;">[merc-A takes a total of 2+1=3 damage; he's got 6hp left.]</span><br /><br />Bassianus engages the other mercenary with his hatchet as his hawk claws at his face. <span style="color: #800180;">[4+2 damage leaves him with 1hp]</span><br /><br />The mercenaries strike back. Their steel rings off Athalie's sword and Bassianus' hatchet <span style="color: #800180;">[A takes 3 damage to 2hp, B takes 1 to 0hp]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br /><br />Athalie inflicts a bloody cut to her opponent's abdomen <span style="color: #800180;">[6 damage]</span> as Isabeau circles round to deliver a solid punch to the side of the head <span style="color: #800180;">[4 damage]</span>. The mercenary falls, his sword skittering onto the threadbare welcome mat. <span style="color: #800180;">[10 damage put him at 0hp, STR 6: STR save d20=15, critical damage]</span><br /><br />Bassianus lays into his foe with true savagery as Geta goes straight for the eyes. The sellsword soon joins his comrade on the filthy, and now quite bloodied, floor. <span style="color: #800180;">[both did 6 damage, dropping him to 0hp, STR5; d20=7, crit. The entire party somehow rolled maximum damage this round.]</span><br /><br />The door, once unbarred, leads into a narrow, rubbish-strewn alley. The Glurg crawls outside and gives a fond farewell before disappearing (slowly) into the gloom.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDCn0_CRdjD624-6Q8RW7JKpFy41CX5ScqTfm5TNdbcTHvEePFvqbAteKCIomhRjBvYwYBOWxI24yxOOOli5XH10k4oeizo7-gq-t4wBweagkkryD26CfnRgyu3SLJjpw1cw3AcZN5Uo6wMtLpsQ4M-21pJv-7XINMGGOXaRboowr7gGvwATEnuBQRyI/s833/angiportus.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="821" data-original-width="833" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwDCn0_CRdjD624-6Q8RW7JKpFy41CX5ScqTfm5TNdbcTHvEePFvqbAteKCIomhRjBvYwYBOWxI24yxOOOli5XH10k4oeizo7-gq-t4wBweagkkryD26CfnRgyu3SLJjpw1cw3AcZN5Uo6wMtLpsQ4M-21pJv-7XINMGGOXaRboowr7gGvwATEnuBQRyI/s320/angiportus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The explorers must pause to catch their breath after the fighting <span style="color: #800180;">[short rest d6=3, no encounters]</span>. "Well, that was bracing!" says Bassianus with forced bravado.<br /><br />"You look a bit peaked, my dear," says Athalie.<br /><br />"I think," adds Isabeau, "that you'd ought to use the paste now. We've still a long ways to go."<br /><br />Bassianus grudgingly concurs. He begins rubbing the goopy substance onto his limbs and inside his shirt. It glows brighter then disappears into his skin. He feels mighty.<br /><br />Meanwhile Isabeau reloads her pistol and helps herself to a sword, wiping off the lipstick residue as best she is able. <br /><br />Shortly thereafter, they file out into the alleyway, leaving the bleeding mercenaries to quietly expire at their post.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Now back to the first LC sequence.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #b6d7a8;">T3 : expected - expected - random<br />Object: Magnificent, Fuel</b><br /><br />Out in the street, they see the crowds have vanished. In fact, not a single soul walks abroad, and -- even more unnerving -- the ominous feeling of being watched by hidden eyes from one of the dark windows of the flats above the boarded-over shops is absent as well. They soon pass into a vacant square, in whose centre stands heaped a pile of broken furniture, straw and rags: a pyre forgotten or abandoned before it could be lit.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #b6d7a8;">T4 : complete - special - expected<br />Special: RETURN</b><br /><br />A long side street leads straight back to the market. At this distance the crowds seem silent and static. But there's a sewer entrance here, the goal they seek.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Gy4OwwX4gbfLEtdeiyhuzILXo0yMeLrNEt3A-8_edQvwdIW6kSMzLyrPtwi44oHDA1-fj187nzuXOwKcGzEokFdXwemtGHvdyqXDbcD9TtqOdLt73SKexoVDsiURKXnFfWg8guruyBR9yahCZl9RcjshcfZObM90FzM2DjhG5WWIiN-Kop7jNZNlZKo/s740/sewer%20entrance.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="496" data-original-width="740" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Gy4OwwX4gbfLEtdeiyhuzILXo0yMeLrNEt3A-8_edQvwdIW6kSMzLyrPtwi44oHDA1-fj187nzuXOwKcGzEokFdXwemtGHvdyqXDbcD9TtqOdLt73SKexoVDsiURKXnFfWg8guruyBR9yahCZl9RcjshcfZObM90FzM2DjhG5WWIiN-Kop7jNZNlZKo/s320/sewer%20entrance.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><i>next post: the sewer/dungeon</i> Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-65937391163252244032023-06-24T10:15:00.004+01:002023-06-24T10:21:34.848+01:00ItO solo - Part I : The fate of three<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZ-nD_mYW0XQ8_r0aoYTwZeO8Z7EL3iuLQgaBYCBBM_3k1WjtY19jyv_N6ZNe59ZXiw_oOiiAc7TUVZ2MtJlAkM4NU2EulvA2vM3EbCQ1CqTWa4oT3ZieYBOsr7Tx_4j6BZIJXCzbb7Z2dRgSMuBhdRTJSqTOgPJpxbfmL7VvhBSDlvBI8fatZiKNvQM/s1063/fate%20of%20three.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1063" data-original-width="734" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZ-nD_mYW0XQ8_r0aoYTwZeO8Z7EL3iuLQgaBYCBBM_3k1WjtY19jyv_N6ZNe59ZXiw_oOiiAc7TUVZ2MtJlAkM4NU2EulvA2vM3EbCQ1CqTWa4oT3ZieYBOsr7Tx_4j6BZIJXCzbb7Z2dRgSMuBhdRTJSqTOgPJpxbfmL7VvhBSDlvBI8fatZiKNvQM/s400/fate%20of%20three.jpg" /></a></div>"Fail me and your lives are forfeit," rasped the voice from out of the shadows. "Now, go."<br /><br />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.<br /><br />"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?"<br /><br />"Who are we to question?" says Bassianus. "We are his creatures until our debts are paid."<br /><br />"His goals are so inscrutable! Do you think the tack is an Arcanum?" <br /><br />"Possibly. Or he may very well be mad."<br /><br />"I've heard it said he may not be entirely human. Oh! I didn't mean..."<br /><br />All eyes look down to Athalie's clawed, chitinous left hand, with its overlong fingers like the segmented legs of a crab.<br /><br />"I know you didn't, my dear, " says Athalie. "Which of us will take charge of the tack?"<br /><br />"I will," says Isabeau. "I've an old medicine tin in my purse. So, how are we to get across town?"<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAS5UPDxHk6IVBirty524c18YWHHlk19P-pAg8nmuL2JXMmsYex1gVgR5Pd2Uo4yA4sSgtbqWudaI9mZY0q4vTcIvj_v9FhdqmUPRbru8FG204oBnsj4x1416jHcfE8vdRb_zE6RZ15dr2PcopSYiXFSxKB93cHvja6GD41CjfyonbBHvesvPzuxU1FsA/s1600/tack.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="338" data-original-width="736" height="147" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAS5UPDxHk6IVBirty524c18YWHHlk19P-pAg8nmuL2JXMmsYex1gVgR5Pd2Uo4yA4sSgtbqWudaI9mZY0q4vTcIvj_v9FhdqmUPRbru8FG204oBnsj4x1416jHcfE8vdRb_zE6RZ15dr2PcopSYiXFSxKB93cHvja6GD41CjfyonbBHvesvPzuxU1FsA/w320-h147/tack.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="color: #800180;">[I was in the mood for some Into the Odd, and also for some dungeon crawling. Since my other ItO campaign PCs were in the midst of the wilderness, and I didn't want to rush them out of it, I decided to just throw together a quick party for a one-shot. But the one-shot turned into two, and I'm currently in the midst of their <strike>third</strike> fourth adventure with ideas for a <strike>fourth</strike> fifth...<br /><br />Rather than worrying about a plot, I used the <a href="http://aleaiactandaest.blogspot.com/2016/04/into-odd-solo-part-iv-fresh-blood.html">d6+d6 mission generator</a> from my other campaign.<br /><br /><b>Mission:</b> take item X to place Y<br /><b>Compensation: </b>do it or else<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincPSFMWt0UWCDosVUUTatS0R4kOl780_9bt0M-lY1dCvOh5i8CaWfuK9paKLU_NC0yiz_avsBosRRR7rOWSTKBWf6W9UEQvjJjCsciuBqaln7NBh85cTDK5Ueo8pLp2FJU6npb8oNvCBfU-8W_biLj0yWQtZPrdKVyOIGFz0F1d2fGs-n7qSNaAJRRfk/s1000/rules.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="794" data-original-width="1000" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincPSFMWt0UWCDosVUUTatS0R4kOl780_9bt0M-lY1dCvOh5i8CaWfuK9paKLU_NC0yiz_avsBosRRR7rOWSTKBWf6W9UEQvjJjCsciuBqaln7NBh85cTDK5Ueo8pLp2FJU6npb8oNvCBfU-8W_biLj0yWQtZPrdKVyOIGFz0F1d2fGs-n7qSNaAJRRfk/w400-h318/rules.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>My toolbox for the adventure is:<br />- Into the Odd 2nd edition<br />- Mythic with my MCSV & bibliomancy for the Oracle questions*<br />- the various Random Location Crafting articles in Mythic Magazine <br />- d30 Sandbox Companion<br />- UNE<br />- folders full of pictures for encounters, treasure, etc. -- usually photoshopped <br /><br />* 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.<br /><br />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.]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLrbeccDDYyVKBtaJ4L8w2RZ88qFvwEHbC_Fn-VfZc0HqS1zEPx7KZ7GePmbENdZ-vcnFrbohmcKH-zxS-aGBhGlA47H97L-dj5rwCkbeoDgQPbry2OL13WePT_uqXtQMSh5XsdaUFKFqfq8kRmEXQZDzSXGeNOGvSOxrBSyXapBqUc8MKUlg6g2r_Qk/s650/athalie_portrait.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="421" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrLrbeccDDYyVKBtaJ4L8w2RZ88qFvwEHbC_Fn-VfZc0HqS1zEPx7KZ7GePmbENdZ-vcnFrbohmcKH-zxS-aGBhGlA47H97L-dj5rwCkbeoDgQPbry2OL13WePT_uqXtQMSh5XsdaUFKFqfq8kRmEXQZDzSXGeNOGvSOxrBSyXapBqUc8MKUlg6g2r_Qk/s400/athalie_portrait.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Athalie<br />STR 12, DEX 13, WIL 17, 5hp<br />sword (d6), steel wire<br />Ugly Mutation (crableg-claw (d6), no fine manipulation, 2-h mêlée weapons Impaired)</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAiLUINqJ3uT8SK4tVL-VOFy1ILEwt8rmFlDrmvapxhSqLeMLgU1_9evOm7N0t6WmAfFSxcq1pXO-Eq-yfLz9tLTjXQ-i1-HRptwHJFPwsHFDxAWgu_xb8gjwSfVi7Spzu0y7zHyb9PW7bjdMzqJo6jwL_3lncVBCP1TGG-3iTCerClJFAVJ_VxeaTaR4/s650/bassianus_portrait.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="414" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAiLUINqJ3uT8SK4tVL-VOFy1ILEwt8rmFlDrmvapxhSqLeMLgU1_9evOm7N0t6WmAfFSxcq1pXO-Eq-yfLz9tLTjXQ-i1-HRptwHJFPwsHFDxAWgu_xb8gjwSfVi7Spzu0y7zHyb9PW7bjdMzqJo6jwL_3lncVBCP1TGG-3iTCerClJFAVJ_VxeaTaR4/s400/bassianus_portrait.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Bassianus<br />STR 5, DEX 10, WIL 6, 1hp<br />musket (d8), hatchet (d6)<br />Hawk ("Geta", STR 5, d6 claws)<br />Pain Idol</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYyz8u_cFr3huHccPv_utJPUpGc1Wm8nRzIBnIT3Zk-cWkPxhcUDrrPlLyF-D_mWFnpWa1rBghogWDlnkjprA9J-u1knN-_Htby7zhOu2e2Yrz9Entsf3yvNJ-3teLzUjCGXcgcpQAOnbCxBnP9SULu5XZbPLYo0vf6nzIgKkKPMzPIPaTFWhRELGI1Q/s650/isabeau_portrait.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="355" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYyz8u_cFr3huHccPv_utJPUpGc1Wm8nRzIBnIT3Zk-cWkPxhcUDrrPlLyF-D_mWFnpWa1rBghogWDlnkjprA9J-u1knN-_Htby7zhOu2e2Yrz9Entsf3yvNJ-3teLzUjCGXcgcpQAOnbCxBnP9SULu5XZbPLYo0vf6nzIgKkKPMzPIPaTFWhRELGI1Q/s400/isabeau_portrait.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Isabeau<br />STR 16, DEX 9, WIL 9, 5hp<br />pistol (d6), acid, animal repellant<br />Prosthetic Hand (fully-functional, clockwork mechanism, requires constant winding)</span><br /><br /><br />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. <span style="color: #800180;">[Oddpendium: The Quickest Route Across Town d%= horse carriage]</span><br /><br />"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.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[What's this street like? d%= shopping arcade, dangerous]</span><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Each PC needs a Willpower save to get through unmolested--<br /><br />Athalie (WIL 17), d20=8 success<br />Bassianus (WIL 6), d20=15 fail<br />Isabeau (WIL 9), d20=3, success <br /><br />Q: What happens to Bassianus? (random pic from my Urban Encounter folder)]</span><br /><br />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.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbhVwMa6_zlEC7MVqLZW3zR0kTWjyj9n4bkwGZ58BPPaTV5lHPK-wyGefS-qGJI2yrtGse_8HJ2DMWKGxcv_uxd3ZHzdS9oPxwi5tJ4FvJFbtRZ09RVJTuFWKBYIaGBaGG7hegM7YGzptrnlZLA3TMkGp6J7fUeWgzqeaJyf1lQZ1JFOHcx4As2ZmrfA/s1000/parade.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbhVwMa6_zlEC7MVqLZW3zR0kTWjyj9n4bkwGZ58BPPaTV5lHPK-wyGefS-qGJI2yrtGse_8HJ2DMWKGxcv_uxd3ZHzdS9oPxwi5tJ4FvJFbtRZ09RVJTuFWKBYIaGBaGG7hegM7YGzptrnlZLA3TMkGp6J7fUeWgzqeaJyf1lQZ1JFOHcx4As2ZmrfA/s400/parade.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>"There he is! Look! Oh, dear, a parade of soldiers is blocking his path. What's this? He's trying to slip through their ranks. The sergeant looks very cross with him. Oh, no! No, I can't watch!"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[I'd given him a DEX save (DEX 10) to avoid a mishap: d20=16, fail<br />Q: What happens? <span style="font-family: georgia;">bodily Vigour</span><br /><br />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.]</span><br /><br />"This is truly nonsensical," says Bassianus after having rejoined his companions, "We'd ought to find a way out of the crowds."<br /><br />"Agreed," says Isabeau.<br /><br />"Perhaps you'd ought to stanch the blood dripping from your nose first," observes Athalie.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[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.]</span><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #b6d7a8;">T0 : expected - random (pic) - expected</b><br /><br />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 <span style="color: #800180;">[STR 16]</span> 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»<br /><br />As they advance, <span style="color: #800180;">[d3=]</span> 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.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: What's she want? <span style="font-family: georgia;">the Lustre of innumerable Stars</span>]</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPxhNzRqEf8ptTbJR53xs3pIR213gemOvm2RTNFitWAR8zguSEZpENb-EPlDXUOOSe-zOKBh1EeLgBjACo0MpG9epP37Huk2aAzVbgfZcLg3Oa6eFuZOikbjRSFXCAm6z8dPSJPagByESK7AVsL_BvDmEvj2Ou5J8RiuKPF0ruWZr7nByejbKaBOhPjE/s650/petulant.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="487" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPxhNzRqEf8ptTbJR53xs3pIR213gemOvm2RTNFitWAR8zguSEZpENb-EPlDXUOOSe-zOKBh1EeLgBjACo0MpG9epP37Huk2aAzVbgfZcLg3Oa6eFuZOikbjRSFXCAm6z8dPSJPagByESK7AVsL_BvDmEvj2Ou5J8RiuKPF0ruWZr7nByejbKaBOhPjE/s400/petulant.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: courier;">Petulant Cult-Child<br />STR 9 DEX 13 WPR 17, 6hp<br />Driven to spread the influence of the star gods, but will go away if given sweeties<br />Infinite Glance: 1 damage to all attributes per round; WIL save or under control of the child<br /></span><br />She tugs ever more insistently at his sleeve. "Sweeties, sweeties," she whimpers, as she stares into his eyes with her <span style="font-family: georgia;">Infinite Glance</span>. He cannot avert his gaze; he sees beyond and is consumed. <span style="color: #800180;">[Wil save d20=12, fail... & all stats reduced by 1]</span><br /><br />"Bloody hell," mutters Isabeau, and drags the half-paralytic Bassianus bodily away. <span style="color: #800180;">[STR save d20=2, success]</span>. The child does not give up her quarry easily. She runs in pursuit, grasping hands outstretched, ever whining her hideous refrain. "Sweeties, sweeties!"<br /><br />Athalie stands aside, and slyly puts a foot out in the child's path <span style="color: #800180;">[the child's DEX save d20=20, fail]</span>. The whelp sprawls onto the dirty cobbles and begins to wail. Athalie melts back into the crowd.<span style="color: #800180;">[DEX save succeeds]</span><br /><br />Bastion's entire <i>profanum vulgus</i> 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 <span style="color: #800180;">[connector: Same, with a side Area]</span>; they head down it in hopes of getting out of the chaos.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6rQGSy8GM4ztI6U4QpGOP7gjR6YVvNCWXtKhuP-pWWNfYjwG8RIHHH4kKCqJdIlyMwpAyefeQY-s2eEvSwMaXpSws3FlLTkQLIVZKzDN0Zoc8aPVURHQ4MyVyZI3lryXw2ZXWj2nPWU6jtGcn_h5NUu_bCSoeDmbt4nGVPBIlMCS9sVYWfETbhU5JKk/s1000/fons_publicus.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="610" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK6rQGSy8GM4ztI6U4QpGOP7gjR6YVvNCWXtKhuP-pWWNfYjwG8RIHHH4kKCqJdIlyMwpAyefeQY-s2eEvSwMaXpSws3FlLTkQLIVZKzDN0Zoc8aPVURHQ4MyVyZI3lryXw2ZXWj2nPWU6jtGcn_h5NUu_bCSoeDmbt4nGVPBIlMCS9sVYWfETbhU5JKk/s400/fons_publicus.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><b style="background-color: #b6d7a8;">T1 : expected - expected - random<br />object: ornamental fountain</b><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[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.]</span><br /><br />Meanwhile, Isabeau has removed her right glove, revealing her clockwork artificial hand. "Damn thing's run down again. Be a dear, won't you...?"<br /><br />"Of course, my treasure," says Athalie, winding the mechanism.<br /><br />More shops are beginning to open, so Isabeau is still pulling on her glove as she and her companions begin hurrying down the street.<br /><br /><b style="background-color: #b6d7a8;">T2 : random - random - none<br />location: random picture<br />encounter: ibid.</b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JNbI7Xqgop731hOfFKVJJ2WamA9-jlCVlUIWkNClU9N4Obb50mgrOzWrN1L4JUZNwQ0ygxabZ4KjayJwyvfPVhRma2Nf7ouepilyLC0j_-BJncd7MCdUjIC8SvpmnI4Cp6x4poNsS00XlzS9JJXLb2SaEgZDNwcapzFlM1HcHrNn-eXe2XGTRo-hy8c/s800/old%20man%20of%20strange%20aspect.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="507" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-JNbI7Xqgop731hOfFKVJJ2WamA9-jlCVlUIWkNClU9N4Obb50mgrOzWrN1L4JUZNwQ0ygxabZ4KjayJwyvfPVhRma2Nf7ouepilyLC0j_-BJncd7MCdUjIC8SvpmnI4Cp6x4poNsS00XlzS9JJXLb2SaEgZDNwcapzFlM1HcHrNn-eXe2XGTRo-hy8c/w406-h640/old%20man%20of%20strange%20aspect.jpg" width="406" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><i>(sometimes I don't have to edit the pictures at all)</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Oddpendium cult generator: Family of the Glorious Skull (outlawed cult)]</span><br /><br />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 <span style="color: #800180;">[d3=]</span> Isabeau as they try to file past.<br /><br />"Armed for war, are we?" <span style="color: #800180;">[prejudiced - view - weapons]</span><br /><br />"These streets aren't safe nowadays. I'd not leave my garret with fewer weapons."<br /><br />"There is a better way, you know."<br /><br />"The only better way I'm interested in is the one that leads out of this borough."<br /><br />"If you'll but hear me out, there is a shortcut through my temple." <span style="color: #800180;">[insane - façade - current scene]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[WIL saves: all succeed, not buying it]</span><br /><br />"There's a taxi stand just two streets over," interjects Bassianus.<br /><br />"We simply couldn't impose," says Isabeau.<br /><br />"We're late for brunch with the Rabbi as it is," lies Athalie.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: What does the old man do? <span style="font-family: georgia;">Transporting Reflection</span>]</span><br /><br />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.<br /><br />Once inside...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Now what's his game? <span style="font-family: georgia;">a commanding Call, to spurn the abject Earth, and pant after unseen Delights</span>]</span><br /><br />...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.<br /><br />At length the old man begins to cantillate from his psalter, and astral visions swim before the eyes of the listeners.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[WIL saves: A d20=9, ok; B 18, fail; I 2, ok]</span><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Stats are 3d6 for all attributes, 2d6 HP, powers made up on the spot]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier;">The Old Man of Strange Aspect<br />STR 13, DEX 13, WIL 13, 3hp<br />Driven to swell the ranks of his nefarious order<br />Shining Touch (d6), damage in excess of HP comes off target's WIL and may cause Critcal damage.<br />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</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 1]</span><br />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. <span style="color: #800180;">[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]</span><br /><br />The old man's fingertips begin to glow with a silver light. He reaches out to touch <span style="color: #800180;">[d2=]</span> Athalie's face. She backpedals, and his fingers fall short, though her skin is all pins and needles where the light fell upon it <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=3 damage, reducing her 2 HP]</span>. <br /><br />Despite being punched thrice in the face, his droning psalmody continues unabated.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br />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 <span style="color: #800180;">[4 damage]</span>. Isabeau delivers a solid hit to the sternum <span style="color: #800180;">[2 damage]</span>. The old man is staggered a moment, but undaunted. <span style="color: #800180;">[6 total damage reduces his STR to 6. d20=4, avoids critical damage]</span>.<br /><br />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. <span style="color: #800180;">[3 damage, eliminates her 2hp, and the extra point comes off her Willpower, dropping it to 16. d20=9, no crit]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 3]</span><br />'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. <span style="color: #800180;">[2+4=6 damage, leaving him with 2 STR; d20=10, crit.]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does Bassianus snap out of it when he falls? unlikely (5+): O6 C8 - yes (noted in stat block above)<br />Q: Is he any worse for wear? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and... (also noted above)<br />He's down to 3 Willpower]</span><br /><br />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. <br /><br />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)<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[short rest (1-in-6 random encounter check): d6=6, nothing; everyone recovers their lost HP<br /><br />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.]</span><br /><br />"Do you suppose there's really a shortcut through here?" asks Isabeau.<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-yypq4ZrMrgfBuRqatWw-zkIZdMlZOotynKWFkdfQwB_Kw4KxnR-ZD29WRbg0SkGdnpIwSDaB5Myilt4e_e2aymHRRbOldtaChXYsWqt6JLo7qopy8eeQNawvDsTQTFaWuppg2wIA_lCAY0JG9c4G5Vs-fGZaeE04LwfgnnSOTfLRCM2aNTtZ-Od5_E/s650/corridor%20part%201%20end.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="473" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-yypq4ZrMrgfBuRqatWw-zkIZdMlZOotynKWFkdfQwB_Kw4KxnR-ZD29WRbg0SkGdnpIwSDaB5Myilt4e_e2aymHRRbOldtaChXYsWqt6JLo7qopy8eeQNawvDsTQTFaWuppg2wIA_lCAY0JG9c4G5Vs-fGZaeE04LwfgnnSOTfLRCM2aNTtZ-Od5_E/s400/corridor%20part%201%20end.jpg" /></a></div><i>next post: in the dungeons of the skull cult</i> <br /><br /></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-58969697102375530942023-05-06T10:40:00.003+01:002023-05-06T10:42:09.538+01:00M-Space - Part 6 : Close quarters<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4f8RRCegHjOiUEIMcWNN6rPcVgO58X2h9hbIrAieUHpH6nGZeW4-ESFsrNBHb4JrzL9r7023OfpZcJ7p1JKiQZwghrOY4O0OKqh2FmKoKvonqSSXByMZ4zWd7O--O6FQquxuyoxrocnrNreCpd7bWgwXbtcT6O4BlJDmpL3Lap8cFh-pKZrkc-Y-b/s1157/Untitled.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1157" data-original-width="645" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4f8RRCegHjOiUEIMcWNN6rPcVgO58X2h9hbIrAieUHpH6nGZeW4-ESFsrNBHb4JrzL9r7023OfpZcJ7p1JKiQZwghrOY4O0OKqh2FmKoKvonqSSXByMZ4zWd7O--O6FQquxuyoxrocnrNreCpd7bWgwXbtcT6O4BlJDmpL3Lap8cFh-pKZrkc-Y-b/w223-h400/Untitled.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>There are few personal possessions in the cabins, just suitcases full of toiletries and civilian clothing interspersed with Sunbeam Corp work uniforms -- white jumpsuits with the corporate logo emblazoned on the chest in vivid yellow. Everyone pools together the clothing and finds some things that mostly fit, or can be passably altered. Their own clothes are washed in the fresher units and set aside for when they disembark.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Anything good in the ship? 50/50 (4+): O4 C6 - yes<br />Q: What? Judgementally / Valuable - some objets d'art -- this is important later.<br /><br />The 6 days in hyperspace were run as an Extended Conflict. I used the Dinner Party schema as a starting point. Everyone gets a single "action" per day. The "winner" (best successful roll) does 1d6 damage to anyone who fails their skill roll, but may decide not to deal damage to any given person. "Initiative" is in order of highest current HP (though initiative doesn't make any particular difference in this conflict). <br /><br />Everyone's Conflict Pool (HP) is the avg of INT+CHA, and they each get a Goal, which I rolled randomly for the NPCs:<br /><br />T 16 - figure out Cloelia<br />C 15 - keep powder keg from going off <span style="color: #800180;">[Stop / Tension]</span><br />D 14 - get the upper hand over SpecEx Hanna <span style="color: #800180;">[Ambush / Competition]</span><br />S 13 - make the enemies & traitors pay <span style="color: #800180;">[Vengeance / Tactics]</span><br />H 12 - make an alliance <span style="color: #800180;">[Create / Allies]</span><br /><br />To make things more interesting/varied/creative, no one can use the same skill more than twice. I will narrate events in whatever order makes sense, and put the mechanics in a section at the end. Only the successful die rolls were noted to make it easier to compare numbers for the successes.]</span><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span><h3 style="text-align: left;">Scenes from Hyperspace</h3><b><u>day 1</u></b><br /><br />"Are you using the fresher in there?" calls Theophania from atop the dishevelled bedsheets.<br /><br />"Yes," replies Cloelia.<br /><br />"Why?"<br /><br />"You should, too, if we're going back out there."<br /><br />"Back out? Why?"<br /><br />"I think we should hang out in the common room a while and make sure they all play nice."<br /><br />"Why?"<br /><br />"I just want to see as many live bodies get off this ship as got on."<br /><br /><b>. . . . .</b><br /><br />Stipan is shut in his cabin trying to steel himself for the trip ahead, but Damiana and SpecEx Hanna are in the lounge, albeit on opposite sides of the room.<br /><br />"This is cheery," says Cloelia as she walks in. "Honest opinion time: how's this uniform I found suit me?" She strikes a little pose, at which the others can't help laughing.<br /><br />"I'd not use you on the front of the Sunbeam corporate brochure, if that's what you're asking," jokes Damiana.<br /><br />"It doesn't, um, zip up all the way in front," observes SpecEx Hanna.<br /><br />"Hmmmm... Theophania didn't seem to mind... Anyway, it's already depressing in here. Why don't we try to make the best of a bad situation and just pretend we're on a passenger liner."<br /><br />"To that end," says Theophania, "look what I found in the captain's personal liquor cabinet."<br /><br />"I'll get some glasses."<br /><br />"Thanks, ummmm...," begins Cloelia, "I was going to say, 'Thanks, SpecEx Hanna,' but... what's your given name."<br /><br />"It's, er, Abigail -- but no one calls me that, not even me mates. I got used to being just Hanna in the navy."<br /><br />"Well then, thanks, Hanna."<br /><br />Theophania fills the four glasses. Cloelia raises hers and says 'prust' or something similar, an archaic Clyteian toast. Damiana frowns momentarily, but elects to keep her cool. As a proud Inahian, she bears the customary prejudice against the neighbouring system, but is smart enough to know when to let it rest <span style="color: #800180;">[Passion - Hate Clyteians (36%); luckily she fails her roll]</span>. She stays as long as is polite, then retires to her cabin, pleading exhaustion. <br /><br />Hanna is fading as well. But as she is leaving, she pauses in the doorway. "I... I'm sorry about earlier. I hope you two don't hold it against me. You were an unknown quantity and I had a job to do."<br /><br /><b>. . . . .</b><br /><br />"So, what do you think about our new friends?" asks Theophania.<br /><br />Cloelia yawns. "I think I need to sleep on it."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[d1<br /><br />T 16 - Influence, fail<br />C 15 - Influence, 41<br />D 14 - Insight, fail<br />S 13 - Willpower, fail<br />H 12 - Influence, 23<br /><br />Cloelia wins the contest. She doesn't want to wear down Theophania (and/or isn't being especially closed off towards her), and can't affect Hanna (who succeeded in her roll), so deals 1d6 to Damiana & Stipan. Damiana takes 6 damage, dropping her pool to 8. Stipan takes 3, putting him at 10.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b><u>day 2</u></b><br /><br />Theophania doesn't know what to make of Cloelia's dedication to her new 'project', so spends the day watching her watching them. Hanna tries to make herself scarce, but winds up bumping into everyone. Stipan tries to convince the others that Hanna is plotting to take over the ship, but is reminded that they're in hyperspace, so taking over the ship would have no practical effect. Also, she can't fly it.<br /><br />Damiana manages to corner Cloelia. "I'm not saying Stipan is right, but Hanna's dangerous. No one that young gets to where she is otherwise. We should all keep an eye on her."<br /><br />"I dunno. I bet she's more scared than us behind that façade."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[d2<br /><br />T 16 - Perception, 02 crit!<br />C 15 - Deceit 61<br />H 12 - Stealth, fail<br />S 10 - Influence, fail<br />D 8 - Influence, 40<br /><br />Theophania wins. Her whispered insights to Cloelia deal damage to Hanna & Stipan: Stipan takes 2 damage (down to 5hp), Damiana takes 5 (down to 6hp).]</span><br /><br /><br /><b><u>day 3</u></b><br /><br />"Nooooo," pouts Theophania, "It's boring out there. Let's just stay in bed."<br /><br />"But I've had such a grand idea! We're all going to make dinner and eat together. Trust me, this will make it a lot less tense. It can't fail!"<br /><br />Miraculously, Cloelia is able to convince everyone to share a repast. Hanna endeavours to watch everyone for signs of weakness, but is too easily drawn in to Cloelia's little party games. Damiana relies on her charm school lessons to be pleasant with her inferiors. Stipan tries to stay focussed on his suspicions, but is out of his element and the wine may be going to his head.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[d3<br /><br />T 16 - Influence, 30<br />C 15 - Influence, 47<br />H 12 - Perception, fail<br />D 6 - Courtesy, 41<br />S 5 - Willpower, fail<br /><br />Cloelia wins again, doing 4 damage each to Hanna & Stipan; Hanna's down to 8hp, Stipan has 1 left.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b><u>day 4</u></b><br /><br />"You're awfully quiet this morning," says Cloelia.<br /><br />"Lost in thought," says Theophania.<br /><br />"I can tell. You always twirl your hair round your finger when you're thinking deeply... except when we're lying here, you've taken to twirling mine."<br /><br />"Sorry."<br /><br />"If it bothered me I'd have said. Credit for your thoughts?"<br /><br />"I was just thinking... about us."<br /><br />"Oh?"<br /><br />"So, like... are we...?"<br /><br />"Are we...?"<br /><br />"You know..."<br /><br />"Oh my dearest darling, you know I can't answer that question until you can ask the whole of it."<br /><br /><b>. . . . .</b><br /><br />Hanna is alone in the lounge when Theophania and Cloelia emerge. "Thank the gods it's you," she says. "you're both far less uptight than the other two. I don't think they're really ever going to forgive me for... you know."<br /><br />Stipan and Damiana do eventually arrive. Theophania uses her psi-powers to read everyone's emotional state (except for Cloelia's); the boredom and frustration they all evince conceal nothing deeper.<br /><br />Cloelia tries to get everyone talking about Aretesi. "It's all kind of messy there, with the various power blocs and offworld corporations fighting all the time. Now, the main factions are..."<br /><br />But no one really wants to listen. Hanna fidgets for a while, then excuses herself to her cabin. Damiana leaves next, having had about as much of that Clyteian's babbling as she can take for one day; she needs to play the long game, so no use wearing herself out now. Stipan isn't really interested either. But he permits himself a parting shot as he leaves.<br /><br />"Hanna's using you two, you know, if it isn't obvious. She trying to turn you against us. Don't let her. Remember who she works for, and what she was doing when you met..."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[d4<br /><br />T 16 - Empathy, 17<br />C 15 - Politics, fail<br />H 8 - Streetwise, 27<br />D 6 - Willpower, 23<br />S 1 - Influence, 21 <br /><br />Hanna wins this round, mostly by staying out of the way. A frustrated Cloelia takes 3 damage (down to 12hp)]</span><br /><br /><br /><b><u>day 5</u></b><br /><br />Theophania is still trying to figure out just what, exactly, Cloelia meant the other morning. Did she <i>want</i> her to ask her...?<br /><br />Cloelia, for her part, is restless, wandering in and out of the lounge on the slightest pretext, hoping to find something to say to the others.<br /><br />Hanna is convinced that Stipan is up to something, and observes him stealthily, but he doesn't go anywhere except the lounge and his own cabin.<br /><br />Cloelia has convinced them all that one meal a day as a 'crew' is necessary for their cohesion, and no one has seen fit to argue. At dinner time, Stipan tries to get them talking about their plan for when they have landed on Aretesi, but has as little success as Cloelia in drawing them out.<br /><br />Everyone retires early, leaving Cloelia and Damiana alone in the lounge. <br /><br />"Trouble in paradise?" asks Damiana. "Sorry, but I think you two are a disaster waiting to happen."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[d5<br /><br />T 16 - Insight, fail<br />C 12 - Insight, fail<br />H 8 - Stealth 20<br />D 6 - Insight, 24<br />S 1 - Oratory, fail<br /><br />Damiana wins. She is tired of Stipan's shit, so does damage to him, leaving him at 0. She also damages Theophania & Cloelia: 5&3 damage respectively puts T at 11hp, C at 9.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b><u>day 6</u></b><br /><br />Theophania has almost asked Cloelia to make things official six times... almost. She doesn't want to ask until she's sure of her answer.<br /><br />Cloelia has snuck off into the lounge again to see if there are any good snacks left. Theophania assumes she's checking up on the others. Or stress eating. <br /><br />Hanna has been trying to get a private word with either of them, but didn't hear Cloelia moving about, and misses her chance.<br /><br />But Damiana finds Cloelia on one of her forays into the lounge. "You've got to do something about Hanna before we arrive."<br /><br />"I thought we all had an agreement."<br /><br />"Easy for you to say -- you and lovergirl have guns. We've no such leverage, Stipan and I."<br /><br />"Just drop it, kay? I'm not in the mood."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[d6<br /><br />T 11 - Insight, fail<br />C 9 - Stealth 17<br />H 8 - Perception, fail<br />D 6 - Influence, fail<br />S 0 - x<br /><br />Cloelia got a terrible roll but still won the round. She does 6 damage each to Hanna & Damiana reducing them to 2hp & 0hp respectively.<br /><br />That was the last round of the conflict, so it's time to look at the results. There's no single winner with the schema I was using; the success or failure of each person's goal depends on how much damage they took to their Pool.<br /><br /><u>Pool reduced to 0</u><br /><br />- Damiana gets no edge over Hanna; she'll have a -10% penalty on any further attempts<br /><br />- Stipan wasn't sure where to start; -10% to further actions taken against his companions<br /><br /><u>Pool reduced to below half</u><br /><br />- Hanna isn't seen as a threat by Theophania & Cloelia, but neither do they regard her as an ally<br /><br /><u>Pool above half</u><br /><br />- Cloelia keeps the simmering tensions from boiling over (her Pool dropping below half would have resulted in an incident. Dropping to 0 would have made her directly involved in the incident, if not its instigator)<br /><br />- Theophania gains some insight about Cloelia, but as they are at the same level it isn't a complete success.]</span><br /><br />Theophania starts as the door opens and Cloelia stomps into their cabin. <br /><br />"Nothing good left in the stores?"<br /><br />"No... it's not that," sighs Cloelia, flopping heavily down on the bed. "I'm just tired of this vipers' nest. They aren't even trying to make the best of it, just jockey for position. It's exhausting! At least I can count on you for a safe haven."<br /><br /><i>She's leaning on me for support, not just out of boredom</i>, thinks Theophania. <i>I'll definitely ask her when we get to Aretesi. It'll be better, not to do it on the ship... when did I get so insecure?</i><br /><br />At 12 hours until arrival, the 'crew' convene for one last dinner in the common area.<br /><br />"So," says Damiana, "what are we going to do when we arrive?"<br /><br />Stipan shoots Cloelia a didn't-we-both-try-to-raise-this-point-already look, but she ignores him.<br /><br />"We should probably get to the planet first," says Cloelia. "And see if we can't turn some of these, er, objets d'art decorating the cabins into cash. I'm afraid all my currency was lost aboard the freighter."<br /><br />"We should also try to get away from this ship," says Hanna. "Before it gets reported stolen."<br /><br />"Must we?" asks Damiana. "This ship is Sunbeam corporate property."<br /><br />"Is it, though? Did anyone make any headway with the computer?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Computer rolls for cracking security--<br /><br />Stipan (50%): 87, fail<br />Theophania (46%), but at a Formidable (-40) difficulty since she was really just obsessing over Cloelia: 53, fail]</span><br /><br />"I couldn't defeat the security measures," says Stipan.<br /><br />"I, er, didn't get very far either," mumbles Theophania. "Now, when we land on Aretesi--"<br /><br />"When was that decided?" interjects Stipan. "There's a refuelling station orbiting it--"<br /><br />"And we have so much fucking cash on hand!" snaps Cloelia. <span style="color: #800180;">[Influence 51% vs Willpower 45%: 96 vs 98...]</span><br /><br />Her outburst cuts him short, but they both lapse into uncomfortable and embarrassed silence.<br /><br />"So where shall I put us down?" asks Theophania. "The main port, a minor one, or somewhere rural so we can ditch the ship?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[I made a quick 1d6 table to determine the NPCs' votes based on what their personality/deviousness/leanings seemed to indicate.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier;"> maj. min. rur.<br /> --------------<br />C 1-3 4-5 6<br />H 1-2 3-4 5-6<br />D 1-5 6 -<br />S 1 2-3 4-6</span><br /><br />And rolled 1,2,4,1...]</span><br /><br />They go round the table, and everyone votes for the main port, including Theophania -- though she went last, as she was going to vote the same as Cloelia, no matter what.<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 12<br /><br />Chaos: </b>Out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup: </b>arrival at 0403 Makif/Aretesi<br /><br /><b>NPC List:</b> New Dawn, Sunbeam, Cloelia, SpecEx Hanna, Damiana, Stipan<br /><br /><b>Threads:</b> long term-goal, short-term goal, Cloelia, Corporate War<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[In the last scene, the Oracle decided that there would be a problem with the ship after arrival at the destination system. So,<br />Q: Does it occur immediately, or after contact with the planet? (1d6): 1-4 immediately, 5-6 afterwards: 1d6=2<br />Problem: Kill / Weather (=Life support failure)]</span><br /><br />Some ships exit hyperspace more gracefully than others. There's always a bit of a wrenching sensation as the ship plunges through hyper-dimensions back into normal spacetime, but beyond that it's up to the ship. Bulk freighters tend to lurch, sleek space yachts tend to purr, whilst most civilian craft tend to vibrate for a greater or lesser time. But the vibrations usually last a few seconds, not two minutes.<br /><br />"Oh shit, we're venting atmosphere!" shouts Cloelia even before the warning klaxons sound.<br /><br />Cloelia puts on her own vac suit then assists all the others to get into theirs safely, naturally starting with Theophania but expending no less care on Stipan or Damiana: another testament to her orbital childhood. She sees that Hanna learnt how to suit up properly in the navy and leaves her to it.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Cloelia made a successful Vac Suit (51%) roll to help the others. Neither she nor Hanna needed a roll to get suited up, and unless anyone tries anything acrobatic, no more rolls are needed.]</span><br /><br />When Hanna is suited up she rushes down to the engineering section to run diagnostics and make repairs. She returns dejectedly to the bridge about 15 minutes later. "There is a major life support failure and a hull breech in the aft cargo section. I can't fix it with the tools onboard. It think it needs a major overhaul."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Her Engineering (55%) roll was 00, critical failure, so it there had been a chance of fixing it, there isn't one now.<br /><br />Q: What is the first contact they have over the comm? (1d12): 1-3 refuelling station, 4-5 main port, 6 minor (local) port, 7-9 faction military, 10 world military, 11-12 roll 2x: 10]</span><br /><br />Other than automatic beacons, the comms stay surprisingly quiet until they hit Aretesi's gravity well, when the comm lights start flashing a priority communication and a trio of aerospace fighters appear on the scopes.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The communication (via UNE): insane - illusion - current scene; they think the PCs ship is an enemy vessel and scramble fighters<br /><br />Cloelia's Influence (51%) assisted by Politics (+12=63%): 59, success, but would have failed without the boost from her Politics skill.]</span><br /><br />"Let me," says Cloelia and switches the comms over to her suit before anyone as a chance to argue. The voice on the other end (they can all hear the conversation but not interject) belongs to the rather improbably titled Sub-orbital Sub-commander of one of the Aretesian militaries. Cloelia and the soldier have a long argument back and forth (luckily she knows all about the situation on-world!), and although they eventually accept her explanations, they still insist on the fighters accompanying ship to the nearest port.<br /><br />Theophania sets the ship down on the platform indicated, and everyone trades their vac suits for breath masks. Aretesi's atmosphere should have been human-breathable decades ago, but corruption and corporate warfare have slowed, if not reversed, the terraforming process.<br /><br />They are greeted at the exit ramp by a unit of local soldiers who politely request they come out unarmed. Each must submit to a minor interrogation in a starport outbuilding, and they are released one by one. Hanna makes it back to the ship several hours after the rest, but no one is the worse for wear from the experience; neither Sunbeam nor New dawn are involved in the nearby conflict, so the locals lost interest in the new arrivals. Their ship, however, is grounded. Due to heavy fighting, no departures are allowed for the foreseeable future. They were lucky not to have been shot down. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is anyone detained? Unlikely (5+): O6 C3 - yes, but... for only 1d30=3 hours<br />Q: Who? (1d6) 1 T&C, 2 D&S, 3 H, 4-6 everyone: 3]</span><br /><br />Back aboard the ship, they are busy packing up anything portable and of potential value (mostly some old vases and odd bits of glass art) into the various suitcases and carry-alls aboard the ship whilst wondering about their next move. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Stipan is up to something. He pits his Stealth (at +20%) vs everyone else's Perception. No one makes a successful roll, but as they are distracted and busy, his attempt succeeds.]</span><br /><br />Stipan sneaks off to the bridge and sends a voice communication to the local Sunbeam corporate HQ over what he hopes is a secure channel. "Galle 9 has fallen. Section V Manager Damiana Manabat is a traitor. Have intel on a New Dawn military officer involved in the raid and two possible spies or saboteurs -- or at least witnesses. Headed to main port. Will contact further from there."<br /><br /><i><br />to be continued... </i></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-76181998600039981302023-04-30T10:08:00.000+01:002023-04-30T10:08:10.186+01:00M-Space - Part 5 : Allies by necessity<br /><br /><b>Scene 10<br /><br />Chaos: </b>Out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> to the ship<br /><br /><b>NPC List:</b> station personnel, mystery antagonists, New Dawn contingent, SpecEx Hanna, parasites<br /><br /><b>Threads:</b> long term-goal, short-term goal, freedom, Cloelia, station<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Getting back to the ship will also use Random Location Crafting; 50/50 chance for the small or large location column: 1d2=small]</span><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">T0 : expected - expected - none</b><br /><br />The corridor outside the recreation area is dim, but there are no new signs of fighting.<br /><br />"Everyone needs to move as quickly and quietly as possible," says SpecEx Hanna. "And if someone runs towards us, open fire immediately -- friendlies or no."<br /><br />"Just a moment," says Damiana. "What's happening?"<br /><br />"Maybe your scientist friend would care to explain."<br /><br />"The quarantine breach... Oh, God..."<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">T1 : expected - none - none<br />T2 : expected - expected - expected</b><br /><br />Unnerved by SpecEx Hanna's orders, everyone nevertheless obeys, and they begin moving swiftly yet silently forward through the dark station.<div><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T3 : special - none - special<br />Loc: RETURN<br />Obj: THIS IS BAD (random) : Small, Hidden</b></span><br /><br />At length they come to a T-junction, where passage area is sealed off by a manual pressure door. "We need to go through there," says one of the soldiers, glancing at a wristcomp holomap.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Hard (-20%) Perception rolls are needed, only 2 characters make them]</span><br /><br />"Stop!" shout Theophania and Damiana almost in unison.<br /><br />Everyone freezes.<br /><br />"There's something on the ceiling above the door," says Damiana, pointing.<br /><br />"A proximity mine!" gasps the soldier.<br /><br />"We need to double back," says SpecEx Hanna.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">T4 : random - none - expected<br />Location: Aromatic, Personal</b><br /><br />They backtrack, and alter their route. The new path to the ship takes them through a crew quarters section. First they move through a laundry station. Piles of dirty laundry, half-put into machines, still sit where they were abandoned at the start of the invasion.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">T5 : random - none - expected<br />Location: Atmosphere, Artistic</b><br /><br />From there they cut through a disused storeroom which was converted into an art studio. Several half-done paintings on easels surround a table with a bowl of commissary fruits arranged for a still life.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">T6 : special - random - random<br />Location: EXIT HERE<br />Encounter: Busy, Evil<br />Object: Bizarre, Fuel</b><br /><br />A lifepod station is across the corridor on the other end. <span style="color: #800180;">[1d10-4=0]</span> All ten pods have been launched. Tubs of paraffin are stacked by the entrance to one of the pods for some unaccountable purpose. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Encounter is 1d6=5 parasite hosts. They are (1d12): 1-5 station personnel, 6-9 New Dawn troops, 10 freighter crew/passengers, 11-12 mixed (d10 for each): 7]</span><br /><br />Five figures rush towards the group out of the gloom, New Dawn soldiers in combat armour. One of them has a rifle slung on their back, the rest are unarmed. Hanna shouts for her soldiers to engage and the rest to fall back.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Do they get away? likely : O2 C5 - yes]</span><br /><br />Blaster bolts pound into the armour of the maddened soldiers. One of them leaps upon the handcuffed station tech, knocking him over. Hanna's soldiers keep firing. Everyone else is running.<br /><br />The sounds of blaster fire behind the runners suddenly stop, followed by sounds of a scuffle. Then they round the corner at the next junction, leaving it behind.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">T7 : random - special - expected<br />Location: Enclosed, Dry<br />Encounter: MULTI-ELEMENT -- expected, expected (Parasites, Station, New Dawn: 2d3=P&S)</b><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Can they avoid the encounter? 50/50 (4+): O6 C5 - yes<br /><br />Damiana needs to roll Willpower (61%) vs Loyalty (62%): 34 vs 95, will not intervene]</span><br /><br />They run blindly through the dark station. SpecEx Hanna is hurriedly calling up the station schematics on her handcomp. They almost blunder straight into a group of parasite hosts savaging a pair of station personnel. Hanna says to keep going, and no one hesitates.<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">T8 : random - special - random<br />Location: Confusing, Bright<br />Encounter: EXIT HERE<br />Object: Important, Classy</b><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Exit Here = small docking area. <br /><br />Q: What is beyond? 1 system shuttle, 2 hyperspace shuttle, 3 escape pod, 4 workpod, 5 small private ship, 6 sunbeam corp military lander (i.e. the cavalry): 1d6=5]</span><br /><br />They come to a corridor with emergency klaxons blaring and flashing red lights. A high-security airlock entrance is set into the wall.<br /><br />"What's this?" asks Hanna.<br /><br />"What???" responds Damiana."<br /><br />SpecEx Hanna looks up for a moment, then blasts the loudspeaker above their heads.<br /><br />"What's through there?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Damiana once again check Loyalty vs Willpower: 81 fail vs 38 success, willpower (i.e. self-preservation) carries the day]</span><br /><br />Damiana considers the question for a moment, then realises there's only one clear option for survival. "It's a way to save all our lives."<br /><br />"What do you mean?"<br /><br />"It's a ship. We can escape. but..."<br /><br />"But what?"<br /><br />"We need to come to an agreement first."<br /><br />"I'm listening."<br /><br />"We go to a neutral system, then all go our separate ways. No one's a traitor, everyone lives. Agreed?"<br /><br />"Agreed. So how do we get to it?"<br /><br />"We, er, need to open the security door."<br /><br />"Don't you have clearance? Or whatever?"<br /><br />"Not this level. Only the senior executives, and maybe security..."<br /><br />"Dammit."<br /><br />"I can bypass the lock, if you give me a minute," says Cloelia. "I'll need your handcomp, if you don't mind. And someone's ID badge."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Cloelia needs a difficult Electronics (56-20=36%): 30, succeeds]</span><br /><br />Cloelia uses the corer of Stipan's ID as a screwdriver to get into the access panel, then plugs in the handcomp and gets to work on running a bypass. Meanwhile Theophania and Hanna are standing guard. Hanna spots something a few metres away on the floor, and goes to investigate. It turns out to be a leather attaché case, still handcuffed to its owners arm. The rest of the owner is not present.<br /><br />Damiana looks over to see what it is. "Ugh... but that might be important..."<br /><br />No one moves to pick it up.<br /><br />Cloelia stands back in triumph as the security readout flashes green, but the airlock door fails to open. She sighs and starts in on the manual release crank, which is now unlocked.<br /><br />Beyond is a sealed landing bay containing a single small starship. Other than the flashing light coming in from the corridor, the bay is in complete darkness. <br /><br />They quickly go inside to examine the ship by torchlight. It s currently powered down, and the entry hatch is closed. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is the ship locked? likely (3+): O5 C2 - yes, and...]</span><br /><br />Cloelia examines opens the access panel by the hatch, and looks deflated when she finds only a keypad beneath. "No way I'm opening this up without proper tools," she says. "ship hulls are made of stronger stuff."<br /><br />"Maybe there's a clue in the case out in the corridor," says Damiana.<br /><br />"That's probably just wishful thinking. I'll let us in from inside," says Theophania.<br /><br />"Um, what?"<br /><br />"Ssshhhh. I need to concentrate."<br /><br />Damiana's silence is mere consternation. Theophania shines her torch through the viewport into the empty cockpit and stares. <span style="color: #800180;">[Teleport 42% : 46, fail -1PP ; next round 34, success -4pp]</span><br /><br />Damiana is opening her mouth to finally speak her mind when Theophania is suddenly not there.<br /><br />Then the cockpit lights up with a reluctant flicker. A few seconds later the entry hatch slides open and the ramp extends. Theophania stands silhouetted against the open hatch. "We'll discuss this later. For now we need to get the hangar doors open and the ship moving."<br /><br />"C-can any of us fly it?" stammers Hanna, walking up the ramp.<br /><br />"I can," says Theophania. "Can anyone plot a course?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Can Hanna? Doubtful (6) O6 C3 - yes, but... base skill level +10% (at this point I decided she needed her own character sheet; rolling up a PC without using life paths is pretty quick once you've made a few.]</span><br /><br />"Fortunately, yes," says Hanna. "I learnt a bit of astrogation in the navy."<br /><br />"I'll go out to open the hangar doors," says Cloelia. "Help me get into this vac suit. And promise not to leave without me!"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Easy Vac suit roll to avoid mishaps (51+20=71%): 29, no issues]</span><br /><br />As Theophania preps the ship for launch and Cloelia gets the bay doors open, SpecEx Hanna releases Damiana and Stipan from the binders. When Cloelia returns and is safely through the airlock, Theophania fires the manoeuvring thrusters to propel the ship out of the open ceiling. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is there anyone on the New Dawn ship monitoring sensors? 50/50 (4+): O5 C6 - yes.<br /><br />Sensor skill (60%) roll succeeds. Hanna also gets to make a Sensors (54%) roll, succeeding.]</span><br /><br />"Shit," says Hanna from the co-pilot's chair. "The <i>Vengeance</i> is firing up her guns."<br /><br />Theophania immediately makes evasive manoeuvres and rolls the ship. She fires thrusters as lasers streak past <span style="color: #800180;">[their Gunnery (60%) vs her Pilot (37%): 17 (success) vs 04 crit!]</span> and interposes the bulk of the station between her and any successive shots.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Pursuit? unlikely (5+): O3 C1 - no, and... might not be able to leave]</span><br /><br />Theophania is braced to manoeuvre again, but the New Dawn ship never comes out from behind the station. "They must still be attached," offers Hanna.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is the ship fuelled up? unknown d6=2: O6 C6 - yes<br /><br />+EVENT: PC positive - Failure / A project : the destruction of the station after raid by opposing corp means T won't suffer fallout, and may even be considered for another mission if she runs into Olafemi again (noted for later)<br /><br />The ship has Hyperdrive-3, 1d3=1 hex fuel]</span><br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 11<br /><br />Chaos:</b> Out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup: </b>space travel<br /><br /><b>NPC List: </b>New Dawn, Sunbeam, Cloelia, SpecEx Hanna, Damiana, Stipan<br /><br /><b>Threads: </b>long term-goal, short-term goal, Cloelia, Corporate War<br /><br />Once they are well away from the station, Theophania calls a meeting a meeting in the lounge. She has Hanna put the sensor readouts up on the lounge screens in case of warnings or pursuit.<br /><br />"So it looks like the ship didn't get re-fuelled before the station was attacked." says Theophania.<br /><br />"Meaning...?" asks Damiana<br /><br />"We've a rather limited range."<br /><br />"Narrowed options are preferable," says Hanna. "Under the circumstances."<br /><br />"Indeed," says Damiana. "So, where can we go?"<br /><br />Theophania pulls up the sector chart on a screen. "We're here, at Aug, so using all our fuel we can only reach Makif and Audrima."<br /><br />"Not much of a choice..." mutters Hanna. "I guess we're going to Makif."<br /><br />"Not so fast!" says Stipan. "You're not still in charge, you know. We need to vote on it. Weigh our options carefully first."<br /><br />"Be my guest. I'll let you lot debate this whilst I start plotting the course to Makif."<br /><br />"I'd really rather you didn't."<br /><br />"Why don't you all read the entries on both systems in the sector data and leave me to it. I'm not throwing my weight around and I don't claim to speak for all of you -- but there's no real choice here."<br /><br />She wanders out to the bridge. The others watch her go in silence, then call up the data on the two systems. Each has but a single inhabited world. Eidiya (in Audrima) is a low-population, failed colony whose toxic atmosphere is slowly eroding the antiquated life support machinery. Aretesi (in Makif) is a failed terraforming project, and currently a hotspot for armed conflict -- but at least there's a refuelling station, and despite the ground wars, outsiders still find reason to visit for trade.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Any dissenters? unlikely (5+): O3 C1 - no, and...]</span><br /><br />No one wants to spend weeks or possibly even years stuck on Eidiya waiting for a ship to come by with fuel for sale, so the vote is unanimous as Hanna had said.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Navigation software? Level 1d6-2=1, +5%<br />H's Astrogation (40+5=45%): 25, ok]</span><br /><br />Hanna plots a course for Makif. With the minimal fuel levels, she estimates travel time at 6 days.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Any unforeseen problems with the ship? Doubtful (6): O6 C1 - yes, and...<br />Q: Immediate? 50/50 (4+): O2 C2 - no, and... occurs after arrival in destination system<br />+Event: NPC action - Stipan - Communicate / Masses (he's going to try to send a message to his corp as soon as they are back in normal space (lacks Communication skill, so can't send from hyperspace))]</span><br /><br />Within the hour, the ship has entered hyperspace. Theophania and Hanna emerge from the cockpit into the lounge to find the others all staring expectantly.<br /><br />"Now that we're safely away," says Damiana, "I believe you have something you were going to explain to us..."<br /><br />"I really want to hear this, super bad," adds Cloelia.<br /><br />"Right," says Theophania, "that. It's, uh, just a thing. I can do. I dunno how. It's maybe genetic, but no one else in my family... also it was never in my doctor's reports. I've been told -- later, when I had it studied-- I can somehow project a psionic field around myself that allows me to slip a small distance through spacetime. It's just like any other kind of thinking, to me. I couldn't tell you how I do it, but I do it all the time. When I want to. Just one of the mysteries of the universe, or summat."<br /><br />"Is there anything... <i>else</i> you can do?" asks Damiana.<br /><br />"No, that's my one good party trick. And before you ask, I have to see where I'm going to end up or it doesn't work. It's embarrassing how many times I've locked myself out of my own flat."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[It's a hard (-20%) Deceit roll to convince the others with her halting explanation: (77-20=57%): 47 <br /><br />vs everyone else's willpower--<br /><br />C&H fail; D 30, S 24; T wins the contest -- for now.]</span><br /><br />No one is quite sure of the explanation, but they aren't sure asking questions will get them anywhere, so decide to keep schtum for the time being. Cloelia isn't sure she wants to know any more. In fact, she might like to forget...<br /><br />After a few more moments of awkward silence, Damiana suggests they explore the ship and figure out sleeping arrangements. The ship has <span style="color: #800180;">[2d6=]</span> five cabins, one of which is larger than the rest. Cloelia pipes up almost immediately, saying she'd like to take the captain's suite since she and Theophania will be sharing, and it works out to less space per person than a private room. <span style="color: #800180;">[simple Influence (51%) roll: 05, crit!]</span> No one has any objections, and they're maybe even relieved that the logic of the situation works for everyone.<br /><br />"I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds..." she says as they are looking through the cabin.<br /><br />"Not at all!" says Theophania as she locks the door, and then decency requires we fade to black...<br /><br /><br /><i>next post: hyperspace</i><br /><br /> </div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-61870369024571101952023-04-23T10:35:00.004+01:002023-04-23T10:43:30.701+01:00M-Space - Part 4 : Capture<br /><br />The prisoners are marched through some of the less-damaged corridors and finally into one of the station's recreation areas whose fancy carpet, mood lighting, and plush sectional sofas in conversation pits stand in absurdly high contrast to its use as the New Dawn troops' command centre.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Where are they taken? Location: Artistic, Modern]</span><br /><br />The soldiers ask everyone's identity, then separate Theophania, Cloelia, and Miho from the station personnel and march each group off to a separate holding area. Theophania's group is placed on a sofa before one of the viewports, offering them a spectacular vista of Cha, the ocean planet round which Galle 9 Research Station orbits. Behind them stand two soldiers, anonymous in head-to-toe combat armour.<br /><br />Cloelia fidgets in her seat for all of thirty seconds before the nervous question inside bursts forth. "What do you think they--"<br /><br />Theophania presses her finger against Cloelia's lips. "Shhhh... they'll get upset if we talk."<br /><br />Cloelia shrinks back into an anxious silence. Theophania is certain she sees one of the soldiers relax ever so slightly, relieved at not having to threaten the civilians.<br /><br />Not long afterwards, a young woman appears, with two more soldiers in tow. Unlike her bodyguards, she's removed most of her combat armour, and -- more unusually, notes Theophania -- wears no rank insignia. She looks like she hasn't slept in days; there are deep circles round her eyes, her shirt is rumpled and coffee-stained, and more of her hair has escaped the bun she put it up in than currently remains.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnwMQ4FTTgfmRe78J3pf4FTLuk4p5Xm7GIv1r9EH7UCPaxZvcoO9sUJdXPaejJVKBvV55mhWTKpT9RlehkHVAQhcz4RIPS5p9CV9DevKMZbMX1VW32mij8gSDc8lo6K3p9mLz1xQ7bV5Iv96u46ZEbeDxta9Y0AjXBPLoBPE6gSm0Yc6FreJVKXLy/s512/SpecExHanna.jpeg" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnwMQ4FTTgfmRe78J3pf4FTLuk4p5Xm7GIv1r9EH7UCPaxZvcoO9sUJdXPaejJVKBvV55mhWTKpT9RlehkHVAQhcz4RIPS5p9CV9DevKMZbMX1VW32mij8gSDc8lo6K3p9mLz1xQ7bV5Iv96u46ZEbeDxta9Y0AjXBPLoBPE6gSm0Yc6FreJVKXLy/w200-h200/SpecExHanna.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><span><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><u>New Dawn Special Executive Abigail Hanna</u></b><br /><b>Background: </b>Aspiring bourgeoisie or upper class<br /><b>Role:</b> Military, soldier, enforcer, law officer<br /><b>Problem:</b> A loved one is in trouble<br /><b>Age:</b> Unusually young for their role<br /><b>Desire:</b> They want an entirely different job<br /><b>Trait: </b>Paternalism</span></span><div><span><span style="color: #0b5394;">(full character sheet at the end of the post)<br /></span><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[UNE--</span><br /><span style="color: #800180;">NPC Relationship: peaceful</span><br /><span style="color: #800180;">Conversation Mood: cautious</span><br /><span style="color: #800180;">inquisitive - demand - flaws]</span></span><br /><br />"I'm SpecEx Hanna. Who are you then?"<br /><br />"We two," says Theophania, "are passengers from the freighter that docked her an hour ago. She's crew."<br /><br />"Whatever are you doing here?"<br /><br />"Would you believe, just passing through?"<br /><br />"And you just decided to take A quick peek in at a restricted facility?"<br /><br />"We came here to drop off supplies," says Miho. "and trade vouchers for fuel for the trip out. When there was no answer, we docked to investigate. We're stuck here without fuel, so..."<br /><br />"Of course. And your connection to Sunbeam Co-operative?"<br /><br />"The same as our connection to every other -- they pay us to haul freight somewhere, we haul it."<br /><br />"And what sort of supplies were you dropping off?"<br /><br />"The usual -- food, spare parts, toiletries -- nothing exceptional."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Meanwhile, Theophania is attempting to scan SpecEx Hanna with her psionic Empathy (42%): 30, success; the power costs 2 Power Points to activate (T has 16 to start)<br /><br />SpecEx Hanna's general feelings & attitude : Helpfully / Dry = Distrustful. she doesn't particularly want to harm outsiders, but she needs to know they are who they say they are<br /><br />Some die rolls for the interview--<br /><br />Theophania needs to roll Deceit (77%); she's not really dissembling, but needs to avoid suspicion at all costs, so it seemed the most appropriate skill: 68, success<br /><br />Miho is completely honest. Easy ship skill (Mechanic 65+20=85%) to prove she is who she says: 52, success.<br /><br />SpecEx Hanna pits her Insight (65%) against them: 92, fail<br /><br />Theophania keeps her Empathy scan up for the duration, so must spend 1d3=1 more PP.]</span> <br /><br />Cloelia decides to keep her mouth shut and let the others handle the interview. This is officially the most trouble she's ever been in. She's terribly curious about Theophania's reaction to it all. She has a sense that this isn't terribly unusual for her -- and would love to know why. Plus focussing on that little mystery is probably the only thing keeping her from pissing herself in fear...<br /><br />Whilst Cloelia is lost in thought, the interview continues until SpecEx Hanna is satisfied. She tells the prisoners to sit and enjoy the view whilst she makes a decision. She dismisses their guards, but reminds them there is no way out except through a room full of soldiers, and that escapees are shot on sight.<br /><br />"Don't worry," says Theophania when they are alone at the viewport, "I don't think she intends to keep us here long."<br /><br />"Really? That's, um, optimistic," says Cloelia.<br /><br />"She's professionally inscrutable," adds Miho. "How can you tell?"<br /><br />"I'm good at reading people. We're just bystanders, and they've nothing to gain by offing us. Besides it'd be shitty for morale."<br /><br />Cloelia slumps against Theophania in relief, and heaves a long throaty sigh as Theophania puts an arm round her shoulder. "Get a room," mutters Miho.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Are they held a long time? 50/50: O1 C1 - no, and...<br /><br />+Event: PC negative - Abandon / Misfortune (the freighter crew will leave them behind)]</span><br /><br />Minutes later a pair of soldiers come over, young women about the same age as SpecEx Hanna, but bearing private's insignia as is usual for soldiers of their age-bracket. "We're to escort you back to your ship now."<br /><br />"The fuel?" asks Miho.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: fuel? 50/50: O4 C3 - yes, but...]</span><br /><br />"Only one trip's worth. No spares -- that stuff's expensive."<br /><br />"Fine. Any word on the rest of my crew? Two more parties came aboard..."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Any word? 50/50: O1 C4 - no, but...]</span><br /><br />"Sorry, they don't tell us anything."<br /><br />The soldiers bring them back to the corridor where the fuel was left. Joerg's body has been removed, but a smear of blood marks where he fell. <br /><br />"Sorry," says one of the privates, "you gotta push."<br /><br />Miho takes the lead with one trolley, Theophania and Cloelia follow with the other. The soldiers bring up the rear.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Do they get back to the freighter? likely: O2 C7 - no<br />Q: What now? (1d6): 1 firefight, 2 ship breaks away, 3 ship breaks away damaging station, 4 quarantine problem, 5 random event, 6 roll 2d5: 1d6=3]</span><br /><br />The soldiers have a map of the station up on an handcomp, and occasionally call out a direction at a juncture. Miho follows their directives, the only words spoken on the trip back towards (she hopes) her ship.<br /><br />There's an ungodly noise as the seal on the docking ring ruptures. The freighter's mooring thrusters fire, and the huge vessel smashes against the side of the station. The impact reverberates down the length of the corridor and the crumpling metal screeches like a dying beast. The emergency lights flicker and a wind picks up as the section begins decompression.<br /><br />Theophania's group stop short, waiting for the auto seals to kick in, but the wind grows stronger, and with it the knowledge that the seals have failed to engage.<br /><br />"We need to get to a pressurised area!" shouts Cloelia.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Getting to a safe area requires a test of either Athletics or Brawn, augmented by the other of the two (i.e. there is a bonus equal to twice the critical success rating of the secondary skill). The difficulty begins at Easy (+20%) and increases each turn if the roll is failed.]</span><br /><br />Theophania, Cloelia, and Miho push themselves along the wall back past the soldiers <span style="color: #800180;">[rolls succeed]</span> who, in their momentary panic, are trying to walk straight up the corridor against the wind <span style="color: #800180;">[rolls failed]</span>.<br /><br />Miho and Theophania shout at the two to get down and crawl, and grab their hands to pull them to safety <span style="color: #800180;">[rolls succeed with extra Augments from C & M]</span>. Cloelia already has the cover off the manual crank for an iris valve and begins turning it furiously almost before the soldiers feet are clear.<br /><br />"Lucky... I grew up on... a station," pants Cloelia once the valve is safely shut. "Those safety drills... become ingrained..." <br /><br />"Th-thanks for helping us," says one of the soldiers.<br /><br />"No worries," says Theophania. "I guess you're taking us back, now..."<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 7<br /><br />Chaos: </b>Out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup: </b>dealing with New Dawn, again<br /><br /><b>NPC List:</b> ship's captain, crew, passengers, enemy agents, fugitive, station personnel, mystery antagonists, New Dawn contingent, SpecEx Hanna<br /><br /><b>Threads:</b> long term-goal, short-term goal, freedom, Cloelia, station<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Did one of the station crew mention that Theophania had a delivery for someone here? Likely (3+): O4 C6 - yes]</span><br /><br />SpecEx Hanna looks <span style="color: #800180;">[Partially / Graceful]</span> faintly bemused to see them return. She has Cloelia and Miho escorted back to the viewport, but takes Theophania aside by herself.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[UNE--<br />NPC Relationship: peaceful<br />Conversation Mood: neutral<br />knowing - history - rewards]</span><br /><br />"You've been less than forthright," says SpecEx Hanna.<br /><br />"Ah. yes. It didn't seem pertinent to bring up. I'm in the same relation to Sunbeam Corp as the freighter crew, just at an exponentially smaller order of magnitude. It was a simple courier job. And before you ask, other than the name of the recipient, I don't know any more than you do. I don't even know what was in the suitcase. I was just going to drop it off and continue on to Parra."<br /><br />"Parra? What's there?"<br /><br />"Never been, so... novelty?"<br /><br />"I see. But what I don't see, I think you'll understand, is that this freighter was already bearing a corporate consignment for the station. So if someone engaged a private courier, I must ask myself: to what purpose?"<br /><br />"I was to make sure it didn't get lost or intercepted."<br /><br />"Anything else?"<br /><br />"I can give you my contact's name if you want it. That is, the name she gave me."<br /><br />"I see. That won't be necessary. Now I'm going to have to hang onto you for a little while longer. I can't risk your involvement being more than you say <span style="color: #800180;">[prejudiced - reputation - friends]</span>. Once we've dealt with the freighter situation, I'll decide what's to be done with you."<br /><br />"And my two, er, shipmates?"<br /><br />"I don't know yet. I'm not terribly concerned about the mechanic. But the other one -- I get the sense you're a package deal."<br /><br />"We only met aboard. Keep me if you must, but let her go."<br /><br />"I'm going to keep you both for the time being. I can't risk it."<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 8<br /><br />Chaos: </b>Out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> d8=Interrupt (was: waiting)<br /><b>Interrupt: </b>Ambiguous event - Expose / Goals<br /><br /><b>NPC List:</b> ship's captain, crew, passengers, enemy agents, fugitive, station personnel, mystery antagonists, New Dawn contingent, SpecEx Hanna<br /><br /><b>Threads:</b> long term-goal, short-term goal, freedom, Cloelia, station<br /><br />Theophania and Cloelia are brought under guard to <span style="color: #800180;">[Full, Quiet]</span> a tiny (seats 24) 3-d cinema room, where <span style="color: #800180;">[1d3=3]</span> Stipan, Damiana, one other station crewman are already being held. Other than the crude bandage on Stipan's upper arm where he had been shot, they seem unhurt. <br /><br />"Huh," says Cloelia, "I wonder why they're holding us here, of all places?"<br /><br />"There's nothing in here but seating," says Theophania. "In case we get any bright ideas."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Are the station crew injured? unlikely (5+): O2 C5 - no (except from earlier). Damiana had attempted First Aid (26%): 83, failure - his arm is still useless.]</span><br /><br />"What was all that commotion?" asks Damiana. "It sounded like a bomb went off."<br /><br />"Not sure," says Theophania, "but something happened to the freighter. A whole section of the station vented atmosphere, and the emergency seals failed to engage."<br /><br />"Where's your friend?"<br /><br />"Trying to contact the freighter for our hosts, I presume."<br /><br />"Oh. What're you going to do now?"<br /><br />"Sit here and do nothing until they send for me. Maybe get some kip."<br /><br />"How can you be so calm?"<br /><br />"Histrionics don't seem terribly productive."<br /><br />"And your friend?"<br /><br />"Sleep sounds heavenly," says Cloelia, yawning. "It's well past my bed time."<br /><br />"You two do realise we're all prisoners... and only for as long as they think we're still useful. Now, if you help us, when the cavalry arrives, I'll be sure to see you're rewarded for doing the right thing." <span style="color: #800180;">[friendly - shelter - current story]</span><br /><br />"And just what," asks Theophania, "makes you so sure the cavalry is actually on the way?"<br /><br />"This station represents a very substantial investment. The work we're doing here is truly revolutionary."<br /><br />"This has something to do with the quarantine breech, doesn't it?"<br /><br />"Well, yes."<br /><br />"What's so special about this research, then. What are you doing here?"<br /><br />"I'm afraid I can't divulge that information unless you sign a non-disclosure agreement."<br /><br />"You want my help getting out of here or not?"<br /><br />"All right, you have a point. The research involves... <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: What? (1d10) 1 biological warfare, 2 chemical warfare, 3 mind-control drugs, 4 attack aliens, 5 parasites, 6 psi, 7 cybernetics, 8 q-tech, 9-10 she refuses to answer but it shows up (roll 1d8)]</span><br /><br />...genetic engineering. Of alien parasites."<br /><br />"To what end?"<br /><br />"Certain... ummm... military applications."<br /><br />"Such as?"<br /><br />"The intent is to turn enemy soldiers into friendlies."<br /><br />"The intent...?"<br /><br />"We haven't gotten much past the turning point."<br /><br />"Meaning...?"<br /><br />"The hosts currently regard everyone as hostiles."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Cloelia needs a Willpower (39%) roll to keep her mouth shut: 44]</span><br /><br />"That's revolting!" shouts Cloelia. "And probably unethical!"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Damiana needs a Loyalty (passion, 62%) roll to tow the party line: 94]</span><br /><br />"We can discuss the moral implications of research once we are far away from this place. For now, we need to escape."<br /><br />"Until they let us out of his room," says Theophania, we're kind of stuck. Unless they decide to up sticks and leave us behind."<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 9<br /><br />Chaos:</b> Out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup: </b>d8=Interrupt (was: waiting)<br /><b>Interrupt: </b>NPC action - SpecEx Hanna - Imprison / Competition<br /><br /><b>NPC List:</b> ship's captain, crew, passengers, enemy agents, fugitive, station personnel, mystery antagonists, New Dawn contingent, SpecEx Hanna, parasites<br /><br /><b>Threads:</b> long term-goal, short-term goal, freedom, Cloelia, station<br /><br />Theophania is finding it hard to actually fall asleep stretched out on the floor, but finds comfort in the weight of Cloelia's head on her chest and her soft, regular breathing; she'd passed out almost immediately from exhaustion.<br /><br />Damiana ordered the two station personnel to try resting as well, but the constant creak of fidgeting in the theatre seats tells Theophania they are having as much success as she is. <br /><br /><b>. . . . .</b><br /><br />"Rise and shine, campers!"<br /><br />Theophania opens an eye to see that SpecEx Hanna has returned with <span style="color: #800180;">[1d3=]</span> a pair of fully-armoured soldiers. She's put on the rest of her armour as well.<br /><br />"Put those three in binders," she orders.<br /><br />"My... my arm," winces Stipan.<br /><br />"Bind their wrists together, then."<br /><br />The soldier complies, binding Stipan's left wrist to Damiana's right. The third station crewman gets his wrists handcuffed normally.<br /><br />"Right, let's go," says SpecEx Hanna. "You're officially our prisoners. We're going to take you to our ship, but there's a little detour we need to make first."<br /><br />"Wait," says Theophania, "what about us?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: What does she intend? Neglect / Emotions]</span><br /><br />"I'm not bothered. You're free, I suppose."<br /><br />"But we need to get off this station. What if we surrender to you?"<br /><br />"But you aren't with Sunbeam Corp." <span style="color: #800180;">[knowing - telling - retainers]</span><br /><br />"No, but we're stuck here otherwise. Unless the freighter is back."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is it? unlikely (5+): O3 C1 - no, and...]</span><br /><br />"It isn't. And I don't believe it will be."<br /><br />Cloelia will try to roll her Influence (51%) against Hanna's Willpower (43%): 02 crit vs 35 normal success, Cloelia prevails]<br /><br />"Please," says Cloelia, in her most scared and pathetic voice, "I'm just a passenger. Don't abandon me here to die."<br /><br />SpecEx Hanna sighs. "Fine. Come with us, both of you. I guess we can use an extra couple sets of hands."<br /><br />One soldier prods Damiana with a carbine. She and Stipan head out. The rest follow.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Anyone left in rec area? unknown d6=6: O2 C5 - no]</span><br /><br />The recreation area is now completely deserted. All the military hardware is gone too, leaving only the detritus of the soldiers' mealtimes.<br /><br />Theophania looks at SpecEx Hanna quizzically. "Weren't there some soldiers here just a little while ago?"<br /><br />"I sent them on ahead to clear the way back to our ship." <span style="color: #800180;">[scheming - plan - rewards]</span><br /><br />"And Miho?"<br /><br />"Your mechanic? She took her freedom and ran... said something about escape pods."<br /><br />"What about our equipment?"<br /><br />"Uh, you can have your weapons back... I think they're still here. "Just remember whose side you're on." <span style="color: #800180;">[friendly - promise - antagonist]</span><br /><br /><br /><i>next post: escape!</i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><u><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnwMQ4FTTgfmRe78J3pf4FTLuk4p5Xm7GIv1r9EH7UCPaxZvcoO9sUJdXPaejJVKBvV55mhWTKpT9RlehkHVAQhcz4RIPS5p9CV9DevKMZbMX1VW32mij8gSDc8lo6K3p9mLz1xQ7bV5Iv96u46ZEbeDxta9Y0AjXBPLoBPE6gSm0Yc6FreJVKXLy/s512/SpecExHanna.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnwMQ4FTTgfmRe78J3pf4FTLuk4p5Xm7GIv1r9EH7UCPaxZvcoO9sUJdXPaejJVKBvV55mhWTKpT9RlehkHVAQhcz4RIPS5p9CV9DevKMZbMX1VW32mij8gSDc8lo6K3p9mLz1xQ7bV5Iv96u46ZEbeDxta9Y0AjXBPLoBPE6gSm0Yc6FreJVKXLy/w200-h200/SpecExHanna.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><br />SpecEx Abigail Hanna</u></b></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: courier;">STR 11 CON 10 SIZ 13 DEX 12</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: courier;">INT 15 POW 14 CHA 9</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: courier;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: courier;">DB - Ex - Init 14 Luck 3</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Homeworld:</b> 0005 Kaltizoul/Carrizc</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Culture:</b> Rural/Ironden (mining colony)</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Career: </b>prof-starship pilot (ex-navy astrog/sensors)</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Passions: </b>Loyalty to Corporation 49% (New Dawn Zaibatsu), Desire order 69%, Hate homeworld 59% (Carrizc)</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Standard Skills: </b>athletics 33%, brawn 34%, deceit 39%, endurance 45%, evade 39%, first aid 42%, influence 33%, perception 69%, stealth 42%, vacc 42%, willpower 43%</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Professional Skills: </b>astrogation 40%, comms 45%, demolitions 34%, engineering 55%, mechanics 42%, sensors 54%, streetwise 48%</span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Combat Styles:</b> Military Officer 53% (blaster pistols, rifles, carbines), HtH Expert 48% (small blade, unarmed)</span></div><br /><br /></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-45143940505511731612023-04-16T18:14:00.001+01:002023-04-16T18:14:46.974+01:00M-Space - Part 3 : Falling into place"Drop it!" shouts Joerg.<br /><br />The figure keeps coming. "Don't shoot, it's just a--" begins Theophania, but her words are cut short by a fusillade of blaster fire from her three companions.<br /><br />A bolt hits the figure dead in the chest, sending up a shower of sparks. It falls back with a sharp clatter of plastic limbs.<br /><br />"...just a maintenance bot in a jumpsuit," repeats Theophania. "The gun's lashed to its arm with wire."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Everyone needed a Hard (-20) Perception roll; the other three failed. The bot took 11-2(casing counts as light armour)=9 damage to the chest from the carbine, which deactivated it.<br /><br />Q: Anything attracted by the noise? 50/50: O5 C1 - yes<br />Q: What? Frighteningly / Mundane<br />Reaction: 2d6=12!]</span><br /><br />Just then doors open to either side, and <span style="color: #800180;">[2d3=]</span> four station personnel emerge with firearms trained on the group. They look almost as shocked as the people they've just ambushed, and moments later lower their guns.<br /><br />"Oh my god, we almost killed you!" exclaims their leader, a woman in a bloodied business suit. <span style="color: #800180;">[UNE:insane - idiocy - current scene]</span> "We thought you were..."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Who are the enemy? (1d8): 1 aliens, 2 escaped experiment, 3 killer robots, 4 rival corp, 5 freebooters, 6 pirates, 7 hostile foreign power, 8 "them"; d8=4]</span><br /><br />"...more New Dawn troops."<br /><br />"They did this?" asks Theophania. "Why?"<br /><br />"Ummm..."<br /><br />"I suggest you come clean if you want our help to make a difference." <span style="color: #800180;">[Easy (+20) Influence (63%) : 26, success]</span><br /><br />"Yes, fine. but if I may inquire first, just who are you? And what are you doing here?"<br /><br />"We're passengers and crew of the <i>Petunia</i>, a bulk freighter. I think they had some cargo for you--<br /><br />"We do," interjects Miho.<br /><br />"--and I had a special consignment for..."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: one of these 4? doubtful (6): O2 C7 - no]</span><br /><br />"...a Sofia Kikuchi, whom I gather is one of the researchers here."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: How do they take the news? Enormously / Soft - pretty accepting<br /><br />Q: Any reaction to the name? 50/50: O6 C1 - yes, and... Swiftly / Defeated]</span><br /><br />"That's... well that's good," says the businesswoman.<br /><br />"But...?"<br /><br />"But... Sofia's been killed."<br /><br />"Shit. Who's her boss then? Actually, let's leave that to one side for now. What's the situation here?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: How bad on a scale of 1-10? 8<br /><br />Willpower 61% to keep it together: 54, ok]</span><br /><br />"Let's get out of the corridor first. It's not safe."<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi61LvtyHH9PZELO6rZuMtN7z3qrrbMlFsuJaJXlBZt1ajDeal3x4MtmybLPrk79gE6CNYAwSDowlHDn_fxcQC_fAMBr2IG5YWr_4KUzlyxE9YoLYYMGa80ZCC8rBadV3_MkGd94LJVFSINVm1ruuh_1Z3yNLwU-ztQbXxZ_WROcQ152WqFNt6JE0JD/s995/npcs_part3.jpg" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="246" data-original-width="995" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi61LvtyHH9PZELO6rZuMtN7z3qrrbMlFsuJaJXlBZt1ajDeal3x4MtmybLPrk79gE6CNYAwSDowlHDn_fxcQC_fAMBr2IG5YWr_4KUzlyxE9YoLYYMGa80ZCC8rBadV3_MkGd94LJVFSINVm1ruuh_1Z3yNLwU-ztQbXxZ_WROcQ152WqFNt6JE0JD/w640-h158/npcs_part3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Left to right: Melissa, Petros, Stipan, Damiana</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><u>Melissa Litvak</u> (f, 51)</b><br />Background: Aspiring bourgeoisie or upper class<br />Role: Idea worker, programmer, writer<br /><br /><b><u>Petros Lei</u> (m, 26)</b><br />Background: The elite of this society<br />Role: Military, soldier, enforcer, law officer<br /><br /><b><u>Stipan Espejo</u> (m, 41)*<br /></b>Culture: Orbital / lunar base<br />Career: Scientist<br /><br /><b><u>Damiana Manabat</u> (f, 35)*</b><br />Culture: Urban/ capital city<br />Career: Official<br /><br />* Stipan & Damiana were extra characters I rolled up. They have full character sheets, which are appended to the end of this post.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[1d4=Damiana is in charge<br /><br />random corporation (SWN)--<br /><br />Name: New Dawn Zaibatsu<br />Business: Exploration, Heavy Weapons<br />Reputation & Rumours: The company's owner is dangerously insane]</span><br /><br />Once they have been led into a nearby office and the door wedged closed, the businesswoman, Section V Manager Damiana Manabat (who has introduced herself in so many words), introduces her companions. Stipan is a researcher in the biochem lab, Melissa is a computer tech, and Petros is in station security.<br /><br />After Theophania introduces her side, Damiana begins her promised explanation.<br /><br />"I'm not going to lie, we're in a lot of trouble. <span style="color: #800180;">[d6+2=]</span> Five days ago there was a hull impact alert. At first we thought it was a meteoroid or some sort of debris. We initiated lockdown procedures and the techs scrambled. But we quickly found out it was breaching pods -- New Dawn commandos. A lot of the techs got killed before we knew what was going on. We managed to hold out for a few days, got our own security to fight back, but.... they were no match. Those of us who are left have been in hiding ever since. We tried reprogramming some of the maintenance bots to fight, but they're only good as diversions. They cut the main power three days ago, when they realised we weren't going to give up, but I think it's hindering them more than us."<br /><br />"What about the quarantine breach?" asks Theophania.<br /><br />"A breach?"<br /><br />"We passed an infirmary. The computer was flashing an alert."<br /><br />"Oh, shit."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Damiana's Willpower 61% vs Loyalty-Corporation 62%: 22 vs 31 - she won't reveal details]</span><br /><br />"We should, uh, stay well clear of the lab. And maybe see if we can get to a working terminal and activate scrubbing protocols."<br /><br />"How many survivors are there?"<br /><br />"I'm not sure. Comms are jammed. I'm sure it's not just us. I mean, I hope..."<br /><br />"The New Dawn troops are still here?"<br /><br />"We've heard sporadic blaster fire."<br /><br />"We have a ship," offers Miho. "We need fuel, but we've got to be able to scrape together enough provisions for the survivors, or it'll be a miserable voyage. If we can get anyone out, that is."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[D's Willpower vs Loyalty again: 61 vs 33.]</span><br /><br />"It'll be challenging. This is a big station and we don't know who's left or how many enemies we're facing. And we should try to scupper it before we leave, if we can get to the reactor."<br /><br />"I hate to ask," says Theophania, "but can we use the quarantine breach against the New Dawn troops?"<br /><br />"That's... not something I think we should do."<br /><br />"We should get the fuel before we set off the reactor. I'm not in the mood for any grand gestures."<br /><br />"I wouldn't expect you to be."<br /><br />"So how do we get the fuel?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Since the station crew know the layout, I'm switching to the LC Small Locations column. 'Complete' is now the fuel store.]</span> <br /><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T8 : Known - expected - special</b><br />Special: EXIT HERE</span><br /><br />Damiana leads the combined band out into the corridor and past the crude barricade. There is less damage than in the outer corridors, but they still must squeeze past a bit or wrecked machinery fallen from one of the ceilings. Immediately afterwards they come to an escape pod bay.<br /><br />"We can use these to get out in an emergency," says Damiana, "They'll go down to the planet... hopefully the freighter can pick us up."<br /><br />"There's a few missing," notes Melissa.<br /><br />"Damn cowards, no loyalty whatsoever!"<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">T9 : expected - expected - expected</b><br /><br />They move as quickly as they dare down more long, dark corridors...<br /><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T10 : random - expected - none</b><br />Location: Meaningful, Clean</span><br /><br />...until Melissa tells Damiana to stop by a door emblazoned with 'Lab 021' in red block letters. "We can cut through here to save time. There's a clean room on both ends of the lab."<br /><br />"What about the quarantine?" asks Theophania.<br /><br />"This isn't a biolab; the clean room is to keep contaminants out, not in."<br /><br />"We'll need to force the door open," says Petros. "Someone help me push."<br /><br /><br /><b style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">T11 : expected - expected - none<br />T12 : expected - expected - none<br />T13 : known - expected - expected</b><br /><br />Once through the dark lab, which seems still untouched by the violence evident in the rest of the station, they once again advance through a series of winding corridors...<br /><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T14 : complete - none - random</b><br />Object: Helpful, Expected</span><br /><br />...and finally arrive at the fuel store. <br /><br />Everyone works together to shift as many of the 100kg tritium fuel cylinders (most of the weight being lead shielding) onto the three low to the ground anti-grav trolleys.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[From now on, I'm only rolling for encounters in each area until they get back to the broken machinery, which they'll need to go a different way round (Another Small Location to get back to the ship). The turns will be numbered only if something happens.]</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T15 (T11 corridor)</b><br />Encounter: Familiar, Familiar</span><br /><br />Then they begin retracing their steps back towards ship. <span style="color: #800180;">[1d6=]</span>Two more of the station crew come out of hiding as they pass, and Damiana tells them to follow.<br /><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T16 (T9 corridor)</b><br />Encounter: Watery, Combative (raw recruits)</span><br /><br />She leads them back through the laboratory clean rooms (requiring more effort to push the doors open wide enough to get the trolleys through) and down through another dark corridor. She stops short as a pair of New Dawn troops in combat armour appear from a junction. One of them yelps in surprise as they fumble for their blaster rifles.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[New Dawn Zaibatsu troops : 2d3=2 raw recruits. I once made an old excel file for random Legend/RQ6 encounters, so I used that to roll 2 novice soldiers.]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier;"> #1 #2<br /> --- ---<br />STR 13 11<br />CON 9 8<br />SIZ 13 13<br />INT 9 12<br />POW 11 8<br />DEX 8 7<br />CHA 10 3<br />DM +1D2 +0<br />INI +9 +10<br /><br />Blaster 38% 34%<br />Brawn 26% 24%<br />Pcn. 39% 30%<br />Wpr. 28% 18%<br />End. 43% 31%<br />Stealth 22% 31%<br /><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: courier;">blaster rifle (2d6 dmg)<br />light armour (10AP, -10% physical skills)</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The first round everyone counts as surprised (-10% to skills) as soldiers round corridor.<br /><br />Initiative rolls (INI+1d6) were grouped really tightly:<br />21 Theophania & Cloelia<br />19 Damiana, Stipan, Soldier #1<br />18 Soldier #2<br /><br />No one else mattered for the first round as there were too many people in the way.]</span><br /><br />Theophania and Cloelia duck for cover behind their trolley the moment they spot the hostile soldiers. Damiana and Stipan feel suddenly very exposed, being in the lead of the little train. Damiana fires a wild burst from her submachinegun as she dashes back to hide behind Theophania. the bullets mostly pepper the ceiling, sending up little sparks where they hit the metal grating. Stipan squeezes off a shot from his blaster but it just flashes down the corridor. He runs for cover as well. The soldiers return fire. Their blaster bolts merely thud off the fuel cylinders; nothing short of a field gun could penetrate the layers of solid radiation shielding.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Damiana's penalties for movement & surprise meant she could only hits on a roll of 01-05. Stipan had a whole 7% chance to hit this round. The soldiers had 28% & 24%. The cylinders have 20AP, so practically immune to small arms except on a critical hit (and when specifically targeted).<br /><br />Everyone gets 2 actions per round. T&C chose to duck (~Evade) and draw weapons (omitted from the narrative for brevity's sake). D&S each got to fire & move. The soldiers are standing still, so get two attacks -- but only #1 gets his attack off before everyone is under cover (acting simultaneously with D&S on Initiative 19).]</span><br /><br />Damiana reaches cover unscathed, but a blaster bolt catches Stipan in the upper arm just as he is ducking behind Cloelia. He winces in pain and falls to his knees, dropping the blaster and catching himself with left hand.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[He took 2d6=5 damage to his right arm; He only has 4hp in that location, so this counts as a Serious wound. He needs to succeed in an Endurance roll vs the Attack roll, or the limb is useless until he receives first aid: failed roll, limb useless. He also loses the next 1d3=2 actions. The soldier gets a Special Effect for his successful attack, and chooses Duck Back.]</span><br /><br />One of the soldiers ducks back into the junction to take cover behind the wall...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 2]</span><br /><br />...as Joerg <span style="color: #800180;">[initiative 22]</span> raises his carbine and takes careful aim at the other from his position at the back of the line of trolleys with his comrades huddled against them. Theophania hazards a few shots over her trolley, but to no effect <span style="color: #800180;">[miss]</span>.<br /><br />The soldiers blast away at Joerg, but their shots streak past him. <span style="color: #800180;">[First actions done.]</span><br /><br />Then one of Theophania's bolts strikes true, catching the soldier right in the abdomen -- leaving a meagre scorch mark on the their combat armour. She ducks back behind the trolley with a muttered oath <span style="color: #800180;">[she'd need a Critical on the attack roll (instead of just a normal success) to choose Bypass Armour, so opts for the Duck Back effect]</span>.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 3]</span><br /><br />Joerg shoots the soldier still standing in the middle of the corridor, but his shot streaks harmlessly past <span style="color: #800180;">[missed despite aiming bonus]</span>. Theophania shots for everyone to fall back.<br /><br />They are eager to comply, but crawling backwards and dragging the trolleys makes it a slow, awkward retreat.<br /><br />The soldiers keep firing. A lucky bolt catches Joerg right between the eyes, and he crumples to the floor. <span style="color: #800180;">[Critical attack roll. The soldier gets 2 special effects: Choose Location, and Maximise Damage (only for one die): 1d6+6=10 damage, a Major Wound. Joerg needed to roll his Endurance vs the attack roll or die; he didn't roll a critical success, so...]</span><br /><br />Miho grabs Joerg's carbine and kicks his body out of the way.<br /><br />The soldiers keep firing at a downward angle, trying to hit what little is exposed over the tops of the cannister-laden trolleys...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Round 4]</span><br /><br />...but their bolts pound ineffectually against the heavy cylinders... <span style="color: #800180;">[miss,miss,miss...]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does all the noise attract attention? 50/50: O6 C6 - yes<br /><br />+Event: Introduce a new NPC - Transform / Expectations<br /><br />Q: Attention from whom? (1d10) 1-4 station crew, 5-8 New Dawn soldiers, 9-0 freighter crew: 1d10=6]</span><br /><br />...until a nearby unit of New Dawn troops, attracted by the din of blaster fire, appear in the path of the retreat and demand surrender.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Damiana must overcome her Loyal to Corporation (62%) passion with an easy Willpower (61+20=81%) roll in order to be sensible: 34 vs 07 (crit), she is. No one else is as fanatic as she, so they don't need a roll.]</span><br /><br />Everyone lays down their arms and puts up their hands -- even Damiana, though Theophania had half been expecting her to go out in a blaze of glory. The squad leader confers with someone over a communicator for a few moments, then marches the prisoners away to their fate.<br /><br /><br /><i>next post: captured!</i><br /><br /><br /><h2 style="text-align: left;">Character sheets</h2><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wK3vmosWd5HCfSl0YUUqf6d6fESu22MFGoX0ISnqJo7H58a5-0Q5_KdjhzRoLjClG0Pw-3i10k4pW3BNHwPmrsgjDYTWLIJBjemfmo9wQaon30SQSPdlL_B5TgBDDWAi2zYdFN_LNYahWt8CyjGrObeZlJgDV_rAHeJUX_t8oJ6rZej2DkBozOOc/s512/stipan.jpeg" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wK3vmosWd5HCfSl0YUUqf6d6fESu22MFGoX0ISnqJo7H58a5-0Q5_KdjhzRoLjClG0Pw-3i10k4pW3BNHwPmrsgjDYTWLIJBjemfmo9wQaon30SQSPdlL_B5TgBDDWAi2zYdFN_LNYahWt8CyjGrObeZlJgDV_rAHeJUX_t8oJ6rZej2DkBozOOc/w200-h200/stipan.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><b>Stipan Espejo</b><br /><br />STR 10 CON 9 SIZ 13 DEX 7<br />INT 15 POW 15 CHA 10<br /><br />DB - Ex - Init 11 Luck 3<br /><br /><b>Homeworld:</b> 0502 Parpamr Marulal / Papolli<br /><b>Culture: </b>Orbital / Lunar base<br /><b>Career:</b> Scientist<br /><br /><b>Passions: </b>Seek Wealth 70%, Protect own reputation 60%, Distrust military 50%<br /><br /><b>Standard Skills: </b>athletics 27%, conceal 32%, customs 40%, endurance 33%, first aid 32%, influence 55%, insight 50%, locale 40%, perception 45%, vacc 52%, willpower 45%<br /><br /><b>Professional Skills: </b>computers 50%, electronics 42%, mechanics 32%, oratory 45%, research 45%, science: biology 55%, science: chemistry 65%, survival: space 34%, teach 35%<br /><br /><b>Combat Styles:</b> -<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cBrr32yIDZdoUcVU7UJD9w2KX0ydXA_jQ7EP8fPpSAiNH64jXVQYoHaHw1Qin3UbYGVxUIY6UsW70TDDeSXROH7wIN4lOUrRtZ2ptWO-NAIGzHE6VY5_WrDn5KEiQ6TCCKgcj7mJjU2mGLTl9LWBIrLdu24MHhj1SIH5WU79c3Edx1XxPWzhM02u/s512/Damiana.jpeg" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3cBrr32yIDZdoUcVU7UJD9w2KX0ydXA_jQ7EP8fPpSAiNH64jXVQYoHaHw1Qin3UbYGVxUIY6UsW70TDDeSXROH7wIN4lOUrRtZ2ptWO-NAIGzHE6VY5_WrDn5KEiQ6TCCKgcj7mJjU2mGLTl9LWBIrLdu24MHhj1SIH5WU79c3Edx1XxPWzhM02u/w200-h200/Damiana.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><b>Damiana Manabat</b><br /><br />STR 11 CON 13 SIZ 10 DEX 12<br />INT 14 POW 8 CHA 13<br /><br />DB - Ex +1 Init 13 Luck 2<br /><br /><b>Homeworld: </b>0205 Loulikos/Inah<br /><b>Culture: </b>Urban/Olympus (capital city)<br /><b>Career: </b>Official<br /><br /><b>Passions: </b>Love power 52%, Loyal to Corporation 62% (Sunbeam Co-operative), Hate Clyteians 36%<br /><br /><b>Standard Skills: </b>conceal 30%, dance 40%, deceit 67%, influence 62%, insight 47%, locale 38%, perception 47%, stealth 41%, willpower 61%<br /><b><br />Professional Skills: </b>bureaucracy 68%, commerce 61%, courtesy 52%, politics 42%<br /><br /><b>Combat Styles: </b>small blaster pistols 33% (reg., light, hold-out)<br /><br /> </div></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-33908671616311008032023-04-11T20:28:00.004+01:002023-04-11T20:29:36.031+01:00M-Space - Part 2 : Space adventure<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaYnV7oYzg6Q_O6XR4IPvbFHA7toWtsFf5ia9cimC9CddPJmDwkvj4S8NzdLLh7NpbWRhVr44fRTQEB__Q-5r7020K1NsBYjup7B0u2-qXyhQSp9_SP_-VoahvJwd-_L4vnGzuHb-guD54yObYN2bOdSHGzkUCOBsbgpYMSbwo5e18Ous08I12vzi/s703/Galle_9.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="404" data-original-width="703" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcaYnV7oYzg6Q_O6XR4IPvbFHA7toWtsFf5ia9cimC9CddPJmDwkvj4S8NzdLLh7NpbWRhVr44fRTQEB__Q-5r7020K1NsBYjup7B0u2-qXyhQSp9_SP_-VoahvJwd-_L4vnGzuHb-guD54yObYN2bOdSHGzkUCOBsbgpYMSbwo5e18Ous08I12vzi/w640-h368/Galle_9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>"We've been out of hyperspace for, what, a good hour now?" says Cloelia. "Why haven't we docked?"<br /><br />"Shall we go and find out?" asks Theophania.<br /><br />"Let's do."<br /><br />Despite the uncertainty, Theophania is somewhat elated at the delay. She still hasn't decided what she is going to tell Cloelia about having to deliver a package to some scientist on the research station. Or been back to her cabin to make sure it's still there...<br /><br /><b>Scene 3<br /><br />Chaos: </b>Average (d10)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> arrival<br />d10=Altered<br /><br /><b>NPC List: </b>{Friend}, {Enemy}, ship's captain, crew, passengers, enemy agents<br /><br /><b>Threads: </b>long term-goal, short-term goal, deliver the item, Cloelia<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[<b>Alteration:</b> problem with arrival -- Quietly / Lacking : no response when hailing station<br /><br />Q: Does the captain/crew try to stall? likely (3+): O2 C6 - no.<br /><br />N.B. Being in possession of a full character sheet, Cloelia will count as a PC from a Mythic event standpoint, even though I'm still sort of running her as an NPC -- at least where Theophania is concerned. I'm adding a Thread about her for this reason.<br /><br />Also, Cloelia is an independent (probably) and was interested in (or after) the package for her own reasons (again, probably), so there is a chance that one of the other passengers currently onboard was the enemy agent that Olafemi was worried about. To this end, I gave both Theophania and Cloelia Perception rolls to notice anything suspicious on the ship... at a difficulty of Formidable (-40%) as they were a bit preoccupied. Needless to say, they both failed their rolls.]</span><br /><br />Most of the passengers have collected in the dining area, and are harassing the stewards for news. Captain Nikolaidis himself makes an appearance to defuse the situation.<br /><br />"I'm sure it's nothing, just a communications problem. But we are unable to dock without clearance. I'll provide further updates when we have them. Until then, please enjoy our hospitality."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is there another update before the passengers get antsy? 50/50 (4+): O1 C2 - no, and...<br />Q: How many kick off? 1d%=74% of them =17]</span><br /><br />His words trigger a spate of shouting, and loud arguments with the crew. Most of the passengers seem intent on pillorying the captain, so Theophania and Cloelia go back to their cabin and listen through the open door.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does anything transpire nearby? 50/50: O6 C10 - yes : Imprison / News<br />Q: Everything kept under control? likely (3+): O4 C3 - yes, but...]</span><br /><br />One of the passengers is demanding to know what's really going on, screaming that the Captain is lying to them. Two crew members try to calm him down, and they wind up in a scuffle. One of the crew gets a bloody nose, but fortunately the veteran spacers are able to restrain the man and forcibly confine him to quarters.<br /><br />Theophania and Cloelia just giggle amongst themselves. The crew look over peevishly, and Theophania stabs the door close button with her finger. More laughter ensues.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Do the captain & crew eventually get things under control? likely (3+): O3 C5 - yes -- but chaos increases.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 4<br /><br />Chaos: </b>Out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> d8=Interrupt (was: passenger meeting)<br /><br /><b>Interrupt: </b>NPC action - captain - Excitement / Illusions<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The captain thinks he sees someone signalling from the base by flashing lights in a window -- but it is actually just reflections on the exterior hull.]</span><br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 5<br /><br />Chaos:</b> Out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> passenger meeting<br /><br /><b>NPC List:</b> {Friend}, {Enemy}, ship's captain, crew, passengers, enemy agents<br /><br /><b>Threads: </b>long term-goal, short-term goal, deliver the item, Cloelia, station<br /><br />At the beginning of the third hour, Captain Nikolaidis announces over the PA that everyone should assemble in the dining area. Before leaving the cabin, Cloelia tucks a tiny blaster pistol into the top of her boot, well hidden under her long skirt. "Just in case," she says.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[She needs a formidable Insight roll to gauge T's reaction: 55-40=15%: 35, no idea]</span><br /><br />She's a bit worried what Theophania might think at the sight of the pretty little gun, but all she gets in reply is a non-committal, "good idea."<br /><br />Theophania is inwardly cross for not knowing the blaster was in the cabin this whole time, but feels better knowing it's there now. Maybe she should be cross with herself for trusting Cloelia too easily... <br /><br />All the passengers (save one) are present, and they have calmed down considerably. <span style="color: #800180;">[mood is Generously / Good]</span><br /><br />"The comms may still be down," Captain Nikolaidis informs them, "but we saw someone signalling, so we will dock. It could be a delicate manoeuvre, so all passengers should remain in quarters, preferably belted in, until further notice. There are instructions above each bed on how to deploy them as acceleration couches."<br /><br />The passengers all file back to their cabins, most too worried to speak.<br /><br />"I don't wanna get in a crash alone," says Theophania. "Think the belts will work if we both crawl in?"<br /><br />"Well, we know it fits you," smirks Cloelia.<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 6<br /><br />Chaos: </b>Out of control (d8)<br /><br /><b>Setup: </b>docking at the station<br /><br /><b>NPC List: </b>{Friend}, {Enemy}, ship's captain, crew, passengers, enemy agents, station personnel, mystery antagonists<br /><br /><b>Threads:</b> long term-goal, short-term goal, deliver the item, Cloelia, station<br /><br />Cloelia and Theophania are lying side-by-side, strapped into Cloelia's bed-cum-acceleration-couch, still giggling over the absurdity of it all. <br /><br />"Ya think this will really protect us in an emergency?" asks Cloelia.<br /><br />"As long as we don't lose atmosphere in the cabin..."<br /><br />"Shouldn't they have passed out emergency vac suits to the passengers?"<br /><br />"On a licensed passenger liner, they would have..."<br /><br />The ship docks with a suspiciously heavy jolt. Seconds stretch into aeons as they lay together in silence, the Captain's voice finally comes over the intercom.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Any problems docking? Doubtful (6): O6 C5 - yes<br />Negligence / Technology : the pilot is careless and damages the docking ring<br /><br />It will hold for (1d10) 1 seconds, 2-3 minutes, 4-8 hours, 9-10 days: d10=hours<br /><br />Q: Are there obvious problems inside the station? unknown d6=2: O6 C2 - yes, and...<br />Adventurously / Creepy : emergency power & lighting only, signs of combat -- think <i>Aliens</i> or <i>Death Station </i><br /><br />Q: Is the entry corridor blocked? 50/50: O3 C4 - no, but... it was at some point<br /><br />The Captain must make an Oratory (at base+10%) to convince crew to venture in: 69, no]</span><br /><br />"Will disembarking passengers please convene in the dining area? Without your baggage."<br /><br />Besides Theophania (and Cloelia, who tags along out of curiosity), <span style="color: #800180;">[1d00=44%]</span> 9 other passengers assemble to hear out Captain Nikolaidis.<br /><br />"I'm afraid we don't know what is going on on the station, but there seems to be an incident. There is only emergency lighting beyond the airlock, and... rather a lot of clutter. We can't go anywhere until we refuel, so I need to send some of my crew inside to ascertain the situation. If anyone knows the station, and would be willing to help..."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does anyone? unlikely (5+): O2 C6 - no]</span><br /><br />After a moment of silence, Theophania speaks up. "I don't know it, but I volunteer to go. I need to find someone."<br /><br />"No one special, I hope," murmurs Cloelia.<br /><br />"No, pet, I just need to make a delivery."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Other volunteers? 50/50 O6 C7 - yes]</span><br /><br />Theophania goes back to her cabin to retrieve her blaster. She finds everything as she left it.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Has the package been disturbed? unknown 1d6=5; O3 C2 - no, and...]</span><br /><br />There are twelve volunteers in total: Theophania, Cloelia, <span style="color: #800180;">[1d6=]</span> 3 passengers and <span style="color: #800180;">[2d6=]</span> 7 of the crew. Captain Nikolaidis makes thirteen. He divides them into three groups. All the crew wear holstered blaster pistols, and the captain issues a single blaster carbine to each group. Everyone is handed a torch and a wrist commo.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[C&T in group 1d3=2. Captain in group 1d3=3<br /><br />group 1: 3 crew 1 pssgr<br />group 2: C,T, 2 crew<br />group 3: Captain, 2 psg, 2 crew]</span><br /><br />Theophania and Cloelia are put in a group with two of the crew, a no-nonsense mechanic named Miho, and a sullen cargo handler named Joerg. The Captain hands <span style="color: #800180;">[d2=]</span> Joerg the carbine, but it's clear that <span style="color: #800180;">[d2=]</span> Miho is in charge.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVux1_6CNybBPJqHSn_CkuzJpS2aoI-HO3qYvz34q-hPRRdk3vvn_q220c7U2AAkSC1e0UhYeZxT5fic3OjpGqvr2viZ20tDFSX_8FAIBe7BAMmqFI0JYCiWVZbUKnCdqkwxc7_nQNm3_wcjprZzOZNvTwc0srKv99UsksD3lS3NRmt_JlNP_copoV/s512/miho.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVux1_6CNybBPJqHSn_CkuzJpS2aoI-HO3qYvz34q-hPRRdk3vvn_q220c7U2AAkSC1e0UhYeZxT5fic3OjpGqvr2viZ20tDFSX_8FAIBe7BAMmqFI0JYCiWVZbUKnCdqkwxc7_nQNm3_wcjprZzOZNvTwc0srKv99UsksD3lS3NRmt_JlNP_copoV/s320/miho.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><u><b>Miho Okonkwo</b></u> (f)<br />Background: Common labourers or cube workers<br />Desire: They want a promotion in their job<br />Trait: Pessimism<br /><br /><b><u>Joerg Shvedov</u></b> (m)<br />Background: Aspiring bourgeoisie or upper class<br />Desire: They want answers about a past trauma<br />Trait: Filiality</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJkf37lRKnniwhMukipx_D9hQ9maF6ezWiaWgYQBJXN5tZe1ZRJeXa0diBn2zNcKKROv24immBPHZvhGuif9PihqV96JrFtNMA-JYX_n8NURU-cFNYuPdnpUMvRBuzlZhq4zMnCNn0U6dK3bGL3WOI_j9TJy3mOIbdFtLn5q-kxdlm3ghK8C2XiUE/s512/joerg.jpeg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJkf37lRKnniwhMukipx_D9hQ9maF6ezWiaWgYQBJXN5tZe1ZRJeXa0diBn2zNcKKROv24immBPHZvhGuif9PihqV96JrFtNMA-JYX_n8NURU-cFNYuPdnpUMvRBuzlZhq4zMnCNn0U6dK3bGL3WOI_j9TJy3mOIbdFtLn5q-kxdlm3ghK8C2XiUE/s320/joerg.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span><span style="color: #800180;">[Both of them have stats as a Technician (</span><a href="https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/280146/The-Triton-Incident" style="color: #800180;">The Triton Incident</a><span style="color: #800180;">, p.30).</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">Exploration was handled with the Random Location Crafting rules in </span><a href="https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/345652/Mythic-Magazine-Volume-2" style="color: #800180;">Mythic Magazine #2</a><span style="color: #800180;">, which continues to be my go-to tool for area generation.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">It's a big, empty, creepy station, so Expected encounters will be treated as None until the party start running into... whoever. Due to its size, I'm using the Large column for Locations.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">Rather than rolling Regional Descriptors, I used the SWN results from the system generation tables:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><u>Galle 9 (Research Base)</u></b><br />Occupation: Scientists from a major local corp (Sunbeam Co-operative)<br />Situation: Perilous research underway</span></span><span style="color: #800180;">]</span><br /><br />The three groups advance as one through the docking ring and into the station. The corridor beyond the airlock is dim. Pools of near-darkness are broken up only by distantly-spaced emergency lights. Theophania notes the "clutter" mentioned earlier by the Captain is either a half-completed or half-destroyed barricade made of mess room furniture. Or did he mean the dislodged ceiling or hanging wires? Or blaster burns on the walls.</div><div><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T0 : expected - random - none</b><br />Encounter: Hidden, Negative</span><br /><br />After 20m they come to a junction. Theophania's group is sent down the side corridor.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Formidable (-40%) Perception checks are needed to spot the hidden encounter; I interpret Negative to mean it won't make itself known if they miss it. Unsurprisingly, no one makes the roll, though Theophania only misses it by 1 percentile.]</span><br /><br />The side corridor is the same gloomy affair as the main one. Miho leads the group very slowly forward, unnerved by the amount of blast marks in some sections. At one point Theophania thinks she sees something in the ceiling behind a grate, but then Cloelia treads on a cable and yelps in surprise, distracting her.</div><div><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T1 : expected - none - none</b></span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T2 : expected - expected - expected</b></span><br /><br />The dark corridor curves onward interminably. There are occasional piles of ruined furniture, but no signs of life. Miho tests her wrist commo, and gets nothing but static. "I guess we're on our own," she says.<br /><br /><br /></div><div><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T3 : special - expected - random</b><br />Location: Roll twice -- expected, random (Empty, Meaningful)<br />Object: Single, Loud</span><br /><br />They reach another junction. A smaller side-passage leads off to the right, and an infirmary is situated to the left. The door is open, with the door mostly recessed into the wall-housing. There are no patients inside, nor any signs of occupation, but a blinking computer panel casts red light onto the wall behind it, accompanied by an annoying tinny sound. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Signs of recent occupation? 50/50: O1 C7 - no<br /><br />Q: Medicines left? 50/50: O4 C7 - yes]</span><br /><br />Miho motions for Joerg to go in first with the carbine, but the infirmary proves to be deserted.<br /><br />"Let's see if this will tell us anything," says Theophania as she sits down at the computer terminal. Meanwhile Cloelia and Miho look through the cabinets and into the closet as Joerg guards the door.<br /><br />"Doesn't look like anyone was here for a while," says Miho. "It's all still neat and tidy. How're you coming with the computer?"<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Theophania needs an Easy (+20%) computer roll to take stock: 46+20=66%: 16, ok.<br /><br />Using the hacking rules in the M-Space Companion, the computer seems likely to have an effective INT of either 10 or 15; 1d2=10. <br /><br />Trying to hack it pits its system (INTx5=50%) vs her skill (46%): 60 vs 75, both fail, but she can't easily get in.<br /><br />Q: What does the alert say? UNE:mysterious - obscurity - enemy]</span><br /><br />"Well," says Theophania, "I acknowledged the alert to turn off the noise, but that's about it."<br /><br />"What'd it say?"<br /><br />"Uh, 'quarantine breach'..."<br /><br />"Shit. Can you unlock it? Find out what's going on?"<br /><br />"Not easily."<br /><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T4 : Random - none - expected</b><br />Location: Reassuring, Natural</span><br /><br />They go back to the corridor, following the main passage. They soon pass a door that's been blasted open. Humid air and the heavy smell of damp soil wafts out into the corridor from the enormous open space beyond, the station's plant garden (both recreation and oxygen-reclamation facility). Miho motions for them to check it out.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Door open? O6 C2 - yes, and... <br /><br />Hard (-20%) Perception rolls for clues: Theophania makes her roll, Cloelia and Miho fail, Joerg fumbles<br /><br />Q: What does T discover? Efficiently / Ancient]</span><br /><br />"Any idea why they blew the door off?" asks Miho quietly.<br /><br />"Not really," says Theophania, "but look here, stamped into the dirt. Bullet shell casings -- a lot of them."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Joerg manages to stand in the way of a second clue.<br /><br />Q: Any bodies or blood? unknown d6=4: O6 C6 - yes<br /><br />+Event: PC positive - T - Attach / A plot -- something about the situation on the station will result in another decent job/mission/adventure<br /><br />Q: State of the bodies? Mechanically / Delicate <br /><br />Q: Destroyed by bullets? 50/50 (4+): O1 C8 - no]</span><br /><br />"Oh-- oh, god," gasps Cloelia. "What's that over there?"<br /><br />"It looks like bodies..." says Miho.<br /><br />No one makes a move towards it, so Theophania decides she'll take a look at the forms lying in the dirt beneath a flowering bush. <br /><br />"It's just a couple of station robots," she says to collective sighs of relief. "Looks like they were shot up with blaster fire."<br /><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T5 : expected - expected - expected</b></span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T6 : expected - expected - special</b><br />Special: COMMON GROUND: Treat this as an Expected Element. Eliminate three Progress<br /></span><br />They exit through the rear of the garden, moving deeper into the station. The corridors are almost completely dark, with several of the emergency lights having been shot out.</div><div><br /><br /><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><b>T7 : Expected, PP-6 - random - expected</b><br />Encounter: Delightful, Frightening</span><br /><br />They turn a corner to find a figure silhouetted against the pool of light shining over a furniture barricade. It raises a hand and stomps towards them, waving a pistol...<br /><br /><br /><i>next post: some secrets revealed </i><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-85500493098512619602023-04-07T11:12:00.005+01:002023-04-07T11:12:54.695+01:00M-Space - Part 1 : I first met that dear one<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvK8jhX2ClYGP1tT6jZ0PvgMcVGHrvcSmk0D8FONzWvhJ2HgmLwO3hl6m18n2Oo0SNjc9G3Di-auz7vGaVx6EVyzpKTlUYdic7XrOSXnJBvAwmjyLuUy0L_BMVaNrirkrJdbiigDbLA3kcf_OnmJDrM0M6HpJj2HaaPHGB7fBIIZxn2G9R7F7hZ5Q/s1600/route.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="394" data-original-width="603" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihvK8jhX2ClYGP1tT6jZ0PvgMcVGHrvcSmk0D8FONzWvhJ2HgmLwO3hl6m18n2Oo0SNjc9G3Di-auz7vGaVx6EVyzpKTlUYdic7XrOSXnJBvAwmjyLuUy0L_BMVaNrirkrJdbiigDbLA3kcf_OnmJDrM0M6HpJj2HaaPHGB7fBIIZxn2G9R7F7hZ5Q/s1600/route.jpg" /></a></div>Theophania gazes out the shuttle's porthole at the surface of Inah falling away beneath her. The barren landscape is dotted with blue-grey city domes whose patterns remind her of the eyes of some gigantic arachnid. A gigantic, disappointed arachnid who is staring at her most accusingly. Right, time to check her itinerary.<br /><br />Her passage has been booked on a bulk freighter, of all things, which was improbably christened the <i>Petunia</i>. The trip to Parra is expected to take about 15 standard days (hyperspace travel being impossible to gauge precisely), including a stopover in 0303 Aug for refuelling. She has a suspicion that her delivery is bound up in the lack of details about the stopover; she'll have about six days to study the mission particulars so isn't particularly bothered about them right away.<br /><br />What is immediately important is a trip to the space station market level. One never can be sure there'll be anything decent to drink on these sorts of voyages, so it's best to stock up with a bottle or three. Theophania also wants to get a big container of gilso powder; she'd never heard of the stuff before coming to Inah, but now she can't countenance breakfast without it.<br /><br />When she arrives at the docking tube, she hands her baggage over to a bot, and mills about with the other passengers, waiting for the steward to show her to her cabin. She doesn't take much notice of her fellow travellers; she'll have more than sufficient time in hyperspace to take stock of them. But as she blankly follows the steward and baggage-bot to her cabin, one of the passengers watches her with uncommon interest...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[The foreshadowing is merely for the sake of narrative. I didn't roll the Scene Alteration that introduces this passenger until Scene 2, so they didn't yet exist.<br /><br />NB : Scene 1 of the adventure was played with <i>Stars Without Number </i>rules, then I switched to <i>M-Space.</i> I'd actually figured out Scene 2's start before pausing the game to hunt for a new system.]</span><br /><br /><b>Scene 1<br /><br />Chaos:</b> Average (d10)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> leaving on the freighter<br /><br /><b>NPC List: </b>{Friend}, {Enemy}, ship's captain, crew, passengers, enemy agents<br /><br /><b>Threads: </b>long term-goal, short-term goal, deliver the item<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Any problems leaving the system? unlikely (5+): O4 C4 - no, but... port encounter<br /><br />+Event: Introduce a new NPC<br /><br />Both the Event and the Encounter were stricken from the narrative. Avoiding pickpockets in a crowd with a good perception roll is a non-event, and the NPC (constantly angry corporate exec) never came into play as a more interesting one came to the fore. I also excised the crew's astrogation rolls.<br /><br />Q: What is the ship like? Enormously / Fat = bulk freighter<br /><br />It has 15 crew and up to 25 passengers: (2d4+2)x10=90% full - 23 passengers<br /><br />Q: Anything unusual happen aboard? unlikely (5+): O1 C6 - no]</span><br /><br />Once secured in her cabin, Theophania glances over the mission details (deliver the package to a certain scientist at Galle 9 Research Base) and crawls into bed with a bottle.<br /><br /><b>. . .</b><br /><br />When she eventually emerges from her cabin, Theophania discovers the freighter's dining facilities to be much better than she'd imagined, the equal of any cheap passenger liner.<br /><br />Captain Nikolaidis is there, making a point to greet each and every passenger, but his eyes don't match his smile. He's well past his prime, and should probably have retired by now. He must owe the Company a fortune for them to keep him on here, Theophania surmises.<br /><br /><span><span style="color: #800180;">[The captain:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #0b5394;"><u><b>Reza Nikolaidis </b></u><br />Age: Unusually old for their role<br />Desire: They want to leave their current life<br />Trait: Curiosity</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">Q: Do any passengers stand out? certain (2+): O5 C7 - yes</span><br /><span style="color: #800180;">d6=f, Swiftly / Lovely]</span></span><br /><br />Theophania forces herself to make polite conversation with the other passengers, but her heart isn't in it, and she's still a little drunk, so her chances of spotting an enemy agent are close to nil.<br /><br />The only person who stands out is a fashionably-dressed woman in ostentatious-yet-tasteful jewellery. She is alternately breezing through the crowd, interrupting conversations with well-chosen <i>bons mots</i>, asking favours of the captain as if they were old school chums, and just generally, as the expression goes, using up all the life support.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Wis/Notice 13+ for first day: 8, no (I'd planned to reduce the difficulty by 1 each day)]</span><br /><br />Theophania makes a hasty exit to avoid getting caught up in the socialite's wake.<br /><br /><br /><b>Scene 2<br /><br />Chaos:</b> Average (d10)<br /><br /><b>Setup:</b> transit<br />d10=Altered<br /><br /><b>NPC List: </b>{Friend}, {Enemy}, ship's captain, crew, passengers, enemy agents<br /><br /><b>Threads: </b>long term-goal, short-term goal, deliver the item<br /><br /><b>Alteration: </b>ADD A CHARACTER = passenger takes interest in Theophania<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioK5-DBZRZNT0nWW8qXk_4YbgrzVS-lH02Xv2MvHd0vijK7Lp6Vsk19qDNLZ6tMNf4p9nATMCK46h5vn-eibnY-Kh74m-L4YHCIe_EnDr5ag8d4ypilmb6eZXQWG-qEpTatFhq18SH-4mdtjJKylTm7ndlEDLAhoqGNCzxKgTa_qBZjPmjCGYFRv53/s512/Cloelia.jpeg" style="clear: right; display: block; float: right; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioK5-DBZRZNT0nWW8qXk_4YbgrzVS-lH02Xv2MvHd0vijK7Lp6Vsk19qDNLZ6tMNf4p9nATMCK46h5vn-eibnY-Kh74m-L4YHCIe_EnDr5ag8d4ypilmb6eZXQWG-qEpTatFhq18SH-4mdtjJKylTm7ndlEDLAhoqGNCzxKgTa_qBZjPmjCGYFRv53/w200-h200/Cloelia.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><u><b>Cloelia Kavelin</b></u><br />Background: The elite of this society<br />Role: Criminal, thug, thief, swindler<br />Problem: Romantic failure with a desired person<br />Age: Young adult<br />Desire: They want answers about a past trauma<br />Trait: Curiosity</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does she have some idea about the package? 50/50: O4 C2 - yes, and... wants to steal it<br />Q: Is her information reliable? unknown d6=1: O5 C7 - yes]<br /></span><br /><br /><br />Theophania decides she can't bloody well spend the whole trip in her cabin -- not at the rate she's going through those bottles. It's time to brave the passenger lounge.<br /><br />The lounge is actually quite pleasant: low lights, wooden bar (probably synthetic), a holographic piano player. It's quiet this time of the 'afternoon'. Perhaps Theophania had better try acclimating to the ship's clock if she doesn't want to be out-of-synch when they reach Aug.<br /><br />In addition to the bored-looking steward, there are only three passengers present. Two business types at the bar discussing the intersystem stock market, and a young woman who keeps smiling and glancing over in Theophania's direction. Her fair skin is flushed pink from whatever she's been sipping through a straw, and she is immaculately made-up for someone with 3cm of brown roots peeking out below her light blonde hair. She's much shorter and more full figured than Serafina, to whom Theophania is most certainly not comparing her... and now she's walking over to Theophania's table.<br /><br />"Hi. Travelling alone? Me too. If you maybe wouldn't mind some company...? It'd make the trip go faster." <span style="color: #800180;">[friendly - happiness - friends]</span><br /><br />"Please," says Theophania, indicating the seat next to her.<br /><br />"So, I gather you're not from Inah."<br /><br />"What gave it away?"<br /><br />"Oh! I just realised how awful that sounds. I meant, I sound so obviously Clyteian -- it's the way I say my Rs, especially -- and you didn't tell me to get lost."<br /><br />"I'm from Vigdis. I wouldn't have blamed you for guessing it."<br /><br />"Were you on Inah long?"<br /><br />"Longer than I intended."<br /><br />"Oh?"<br /><br />"There may have been a girl involved."<br /><br />"Oh... I'm Cloelia, by the way."<br /><br />"Theophania."<br /><br />"It's very nice to meet you."<br /><br />They are soon chatting away pleasantly. Cloelia talks a lot about travel. It's plain she does it all the time <span style="color: #800180;">[prejudiced - view - experience]</span>. But Theophania is by nature suspicious, and has every reason to be cautious whilst on a job.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[C's Deceit (70%) vs T's Insight (64%): 24 success vs 90 failure, Theophania has no idea what's up]</span><br /><br /><i>What's she up to?</i> thinks Theophania as they natter on. <i>She seems genuine. That smile isn't fake. Is she flirting? Her glances linger, when her eyes aren't... elsewhere. Now she's offered to refill my drink at the bar. I think she wants me to watch her sauntering away... and coming back. I'm sure those top two buttons weren't undone before she got up. She keeps touching my arm when she laughs. Now her hand's on my thigh... she does keep her nails short... is this girl an enemy agent, or angling to become my rebound? Or both?</i><br /><br /><span><span style="color: #800180;">[I made Cloelia her own full character sheet; not only was it extra practice with Lifepath character generation before converting Theophania, but I thought it would make for a more interesting run through of M-Space's Extended Conflict rules.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: courier;"><b><u>Cloelia Kavelin<br /></u></b><br />STR 5 CON 12 SIZ 12 DEX 12<br />INT 14 POW 12 CHA 16<br />DB -1d2 Ex +1 Ini 13 Luck 2<br /><br />Homeworld: 0104 Clytie/Astynar<br />Culture: Orbital/Delta-7 (military space station)<br />Career: Thief<br /><br />Passions: Loyalty to Quartermaster (home station) 58%, Desire shiny things 64%, Despise the military 46%<br /><br />Standard Skills: conceal 54%, deceit 70%, evade 34%, influence 51%, insight 55%, perception 60%, stealth 56%, vac suit 51%, willpower 39%, zero-g 34%<br /><br />Professional Skills: commerce 88%, electronics 56%, lockpicking 54%, politics 55%<br /><br />Combat Styles: -</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">Extended Conflicts can be nearly anything where two sides (sometimes more) are pitted against one another. The rulebook provides examples for situations as varied as boating through a storm, poker games, chases, dinner parties, and more.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">They essentially run like combats. Each side has a Pool (hit points) derived from one or more attributes, and each conflict Round is a resisted skill test with the winner inflicting 1d6 damage on their opponent. Victory conditions vary, but reducing the opponent's pool to 0 to determine a winner is the standard.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">The current Extended Conflict is a fairly simple contest. Cloelia is trying to use her charms to distract Theophania into dropping her guard long enough to get at the secret package. Cloelia's pool is equal to her Charisma (16); Theophania is resisting with Intelligence (18). If Cloelia wins, I'll use the oracle to figure out what she does to the package; if she loses then she won't have an opportunity.]</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Round 1]</b></span><br /><br />Theophania still isn't sure about her new friend's true intentions, but also doesn't really care. It's either see where this leads, or mope in her stateroom for the duration of the trip. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Cloelia is trying to worm her way in, pitting her Influence (51%) vs Theophania's Willpower (62%): 44 vs 33 - both rolls succeed, but Cloelia has the higher result so wins the contest. Theophania takes 1d6=5 damage, dropping her pool to 13.]</span><br /><br />Theophania decides to be honest with herself. There's no doubt about where this is leading. But that does mean she can't use her psionics to probe this charming creature, no matter what suspicions she may harbour. Powers of the mind and affairs of the heart don't mix; she'd learnt that lesson the hard way.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Round 2]</b></span><br /><br />The conversation drifts as they exchange untruths. It's no longer really about what's being said, or what's being concealed. It's just an excuse to smile at one another.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[They both roll Deceit (Cloelia 70%, Theophania 77%). The rolls are 83 (failure) vs 63 (success), so Theophania wins. Cloelia takes 1d6=3 damage, reducing her pool to 13.]</span><br /><br />Theophania tells a good tale, interspersing details from old cover stories with insignificant events from her actual life. <br /><br />An announcement comes over the ship's intercom that dinner will be served in the main dining area, and both women realise they'll need more than a stomach full of liquor to see this through.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Round 3]</b></span><br /><br />The change in surroundings disrupts the flow of their little tête-à-tête. When the serving bot brings their food, Cloelia abruptly begins discussing the news of the sector, just to have something to say. Her interlocutor appears ever-so-politely bored by it...<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Cloelia uses her Politics (55%) against Theophania's Endurance (35%): 40 vs 27, both succeed, but again C has the higher roll; Theophania takes 1d6=1 damage, leaving her with a pool of 12]</span><br /><br />...and realises she needs to make the next move.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Round 4]</b></span><br /><br />"Hey, there's a dance in the lounge after dinner," says Theophania. "Wanna check it out?"<br /><br />"Sounds fun."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Theophania's Dance (38%) vs Cloelia's Willpower (39%): 22 success vs 95 Failure; Cloelia takes 1d6=6 damage! Her pool is now at 7, which is under half, so any further CHA-based skills become Hard (-20%)]</span><br /><br />They hug awkwardly (<i>too brief?</i> thinks one; <i>too close?</i> thinks the other) and rush off to their respective cabins to put on their glad rags.<br /><br />Theophania shows up to the dance in a dress that was probably intended as a slip. Cloelia is in black velveteen with a plunging neckline and short skirt. She's daubed herself in translucent powder, so the changing lights on the dance floor cause little scintillations across her face, and shoulders, and décolleté. <br /><br />The music in the lounge is popular, terrible, and to neither woman's taste, but at least it has a rhythm. Cloelia dances with a slow and heavy grace whilst Theophania slithers round her sinuously.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Round 5]</b></span><br /><br />During a slow dance, Cloelia whispers in Theophania's ear. "This is fun and all, but how about we go back to yours..."<br /><br />"I, um, I'm sure your stateroom is nicer..."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Influence vs. Influence (C 51-20=31%, T 43%): 70 vs 74, both fail their rolls, so neither takes damage]</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Round 6]</b></span><br /><br /><i>Shit,</i> wonders Cloelia, <i>is she on to me?</i><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[C's Insight (55%) vs T's Deceit (77%): 32 vs 61, Cloelia takes 3 damage, down to 4hp]</span><br /><br />It's best to be safe. And there are still 5 days left before they arrive at Aug. Cloelia pulls back from Theophania, and takes her by the hand. "Back to mine, then..."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[What happens next, dear reader, doesn't involve any die rolls, and is, furthermore, none of your nor my business, so we will continue the Extended Conflict the following day (ship's time).]</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Round 7]</b></span><br /><br />"Mmmmmmm... you were right," says a sleepy Cloelia. "The coach class bed would've been far too small. Fancy some breakfast... um, lunch? You should probably change first. We can stop by your cabin on the way."<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Cloelia's Influence (with the penalty to CHA skills, so 51-20=31%) vs a Formidable roll against Willpower since Theophania will be hard pressed to say no (62-40=22%): 66 vs 95, both fail so no damage]</span><br /><br />Theophania's cabin really is quite cramped, leaving Cloelia no way of snooping. Theophania doesn't shut the fresher door when fixing her hair, either. <br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;"><b>[Round 8]</b></span><br /><br />They have space cocktails for brekkie. The kind with vegetables thrown in for nutrition.<br /><br /><span style="color: #800180;">[Both roll Endurance (C 24% vs T 35%): 09 vs 24, oops: Cloelia takes 4 damage to 0hp, losing the Conflict.]</span><br /><br />Cloelia feels the liquor going to her head already, and says that maybe they'd better take some food and go back to hers for a picnic and a nap. She'd much rather be holing up in her cabin with her new friend than nosing round her poxy baggage, anyway!<br /><br />Theophania, for her part, wastes no time in bringing all her clothes and her toothbrush over to Cloelia's cabin....<br /><br /><br /><i>next post: space adventure (for real this time!)</i><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-59139207024121489202023-04-02T11:15:00.004+01:002023-04-02T11:15:50.300+01:00Conversion notes : SWN to M-Space<div>Conversion from Stars Without Number to M-Space was relatively painless. Theophania's stats could transfer straight across; she already had INT 18, so no proportional conversion from 3d6 to 2d6+6 was needed, and Wisdom is important in SWN for Psychics so could trasnsfer straight into Power. All that was missing was size, for which I picked an appropriate score (doing no favours for her HP or damage bonus!).</div><div><br /></div><div>As a former corporate spy, her new Profession was obviously Agent. I decided to use the random Lifepath character generation out of M-Space Companion. This gave her some past events, a contact, and an enemy, but as she is a woman of mystery, I will not reveal them yet. She only had 5 skills in SWN, so it was simple matter to make sure she had all the M-Space equivalents. The lifepath also provided her with a good amount of starting cash, but I ruled that was all spent getting to Inah to avoid ret-conning the adventure there.</div><div><br /></div><div>Her psionics were easy to convert as well. Her telepathy powers were still at the empathic level, so Telepathy became Empathy from the M-Space core rules. Teleportation isn't in the book, so I am using the Teleport sorcery spell from Mythras/RQ6/Legend.</div><div><br /></div><div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPpcsC6xSM3zL_QKOXCJmtEFQ3Fxry9wNjt59XkjBu6YprOG-5Es-PN-_3NOtWOdk4650bs0EpY9GIHiPG1PYlJZ8GYvf9U_bw12BAa7FiPysUAR5-3pWR2C2r8nuT6FLU2E_UxVYf4cqPxihyYJxlp-i4EFEHYOT50Bba939L-L18fGscNtmBG5_z/s512/theophania.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPpcsC6xSM3zL_QKOXCJmtEFQ3Fxry9wNjt59XkjBu6YprOG-5Es-PN-_3NOtWOdk4650bs0EpY9GIHiPG1PYlJZ8GYvf9U_bw12BAa7FiPysUAR5-3pWR2C2r8nuT6FLU2E_UxVYf4cqPxihyYJxlp-i4EFEHYOT50Bba939L-L18fGscNtmBG5_z/s320/theophania.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Theophania-Eloïse Ashgrove</b></div><div><br /></div><div>STR 11 CON 10 SIZ 10 DEX 14</div><div>INT 18 POW 16 CHA 14</div><div><br /></div><div>DB - Ex +1 Init 16 Luck 3</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Homeworld:</b> 0106 Aethyll/Vigdis</div><div><b>Culture: </b>Urban/Panopolis (megacity)</div><div><b>Career:</b> Agent</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Passions:</b> Destroy Corporation 64% (Unity Multistellar), Seek mysteries 74%, Desire psi 52%</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Standard Skills: </b>dance 38%, deceit 77%, endurance 35%, evade 48%, influence 43%, insight 64%, locale 41%, perception 64%, stealth 47%, willpower 62%</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Professional Skills:</b> bureaucracy 46%, computers 46%, pilot 37%, sleight 53%, streetwise 70%</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Combat Styles: </b>blaster pistols 38% (any), self-defence 45% (unarmed, may Evade mêlée attacks without falling)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Psionics: </b>Teleport 42%, Empathy 42%, Meditation 32%</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Interstellar travel was the only other thing that really needed attention. I didn't want to just use Traveller rules or the SWN ones, so I started with M-Space guidelines (they are little vague) and went from there. So...</div><div><br /></div><div>A ship's Hyperspace Rating (1-5) is both the maximum range of a jump and also its top speed, i.e. the number of hexes it can traverse in 5 days. </div><div><br /></div><div>One unit of fuel is required per hex; using less fuel reduces effective hyperspace rating. Hexes are about 10 light years across on the sector map. Initiating (and ending) hyperspace jumps takes an enormous amount of energy, so micro-jumps use 1/2 unit of fuel (this is included in the fuel consumption of standard jumps).</div><div><br /></div><div>In-system "micro-jumps" are possible. The initial "acceleration" in hyperspace and the final "deceleration" each take about 10 hours, so an in-system jump of any distance takes 20 hours. </div><div><br /></div><div>A jump therefore takes (hexes*5)/hyperspace+1 days. A ship with hyperspace-1 jumping to the next hex requires 6 days.</div><div><br /></div><div>Things like massive stars & black holes warp hyperspace enough that their hexes cannot be jumped over. Ships may jump to them, manoeuvre round in realspace, then jump away.</div><div><br /></div><div>Ships need to be out of the gravity well of a planet to jump to hyperspace, but there are otherwise no restrictions. Ending a jump prematurely destroys the ship (probably... no one's ever seen a ship that ended a jump early). </div><div><br /></div><div>In-system normal space travel is conducted per the Traveller charts (M-Space ships have speed ratings of 1-5).</div><div><br /></div><div>Hyperspace communication is possible, but not easy. In-system hyperspace communications are effectively real-time, but a Comms skill roll is required to contact another ship (as opposed to a planet or space station). Contacting a ship in hyperspace from a point in realspace is practically impossible, unless the ship has initiated the communication (at a base difficulty of Hard), and there will be a lag based on distance: about 1 second per light year (10 seconds/hex). </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i>next post: the adventure continues</i></div><div><br /></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8714327904580798843.post-49782913205315686352023-03-27T20:23:00.002+01:002023-03-27T20:23:23.667+01:00Stars Without Number - Part 2 : In solitude wander<div><div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOOIXBzMwlSYpuRE_0nnmY4WqR0Vtb4WSdxYTIN4o7dRK8o3V01n2Y7QGSUyrDgJ1PspuOH3SZw_KzXqLNTMWzY-htA3rI9ZUcwtid1MkcviKFoTfqNFUM3NpI6jjIzVRKEMeB8qO5T1RWUMTchtSp-J2zDWTdW8HzzwdFPCIgVICE9z22grLKHRTY/s803/Loulikos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="432" data-original-width="803" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOOIXBzMwlSYpuRE_0nnmY4WqR0Vtb4WSdxYTIN4o7dRK8o3V01n2Y7QGSUyrDgJ1PspuOH3SZw_KzXqLNTMWzY-htA3rI9ZUcwtid1MkcviKFoTfqNFUM3NpI6jjIzVRKEMeB8qO5T1RWUMTchtSp-J2zDWTdW8HzzwdFPCIgVICE9z22grLKHRTY/w640-h344/Loulikos.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />Scene 4</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Chaos:</b> Average (d10)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Setup:</b> looking for Argyros (again)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>NPC List: </b>{Friend}, {Enemy}, Serafina, Basil (patron), Argyros (target), assassins</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Threads:</b> short-term goal, long term-goal, cash flow problems, steal Argyros' research</div><div><br /></div><div>The next day, Theophania returns to the maglev station much nearer to the time Argyros leaves work. Catching a train from the same platform two days running is the opposite of suspicious, so she has an easy time blending in to the flood of workers. <span style="color: #800180;">[Int/Sneak 6+ to avoid suspicions: 11, fine]</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Wis/Notice 6+ to find Argyros: 9, ok</span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Wis/Sneak resisted check: T 2d6+1=8, A 2d6+0=7]</span></div></div><div><br /></div><div>She soon spots Argyros on the platform and follows him onto the train. He takes no notice of her, but then, why should he? She's dressed like a cubicle drone and has her face buried in a datapad the same as everyone else. And being from offworld is scarcely cause for comment on a planet such as Inah; Theophania's not even the only nightworlder on the train. </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is Argyros going home? Likely (3+): O3 C10 - yes</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Wis/Sneak resisted check to tail him: T 2d6+1=9, A 2d6+0=3]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Argyros remains oblivious as the train arrives at his home station and Theophania follows him off.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does he live in an urban area? 50/50 (4+): O3 C4 - no, but... 'suburb'</span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Q: Is it a secure community? Likely (3+): O1 C9 - no]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>The maglev station is in the exact centre of Suburb Dome 356. Beyond the central plaza with its shops, restaurants, and recreation complexes, six main avenues stretch out in a roughly hexagonal pattern. The houses all stand apart, being smaller domes underneath the single large one. Smaller groupings of houses are arrayed in their own hex shapes on different levels, as the original hills beneath the dome were incorporated into the design. Theophania marvels at the Inahian propensity for constructing their domed cities to mimic settlements on worlds with breathable atmospheres.</div><div><br /></div><div>Theophania keeps following at an ever widening distance until Argyros reaches his house. She pauses as he lets himself in, then walks slowly by. She pretends to take a call on her datapad right as she is passing it, giving her an excuse to stop and get a decent look at Argyros' dwelling.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Do the homes have windows? 50/50 (4+): O5 C10 - yes</span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Q: Does Argyros live alone? unlikely (5+): O5 C1 - yes, and... obviously so]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Even the briefest glance into his kitchen confirms he lives alone. All the classic bachelor pad signs are visible: piles of empty takeaway containers, overflowing recycling bin, dirty dishes filling the sink, a neon sign bearing the logo of a naff local beer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Theophania has seen everything she needed. But just in case she herself is being observed, she finishes the call as she'd rehearsed it. "Well, I'm almost there... no, I understand... family comes first... yeah, tomorrow then. Good luck."</div><div><br /></div><div>She goes back to the station and then home to Serafina, who'd promised to cook for once so they don't burn though the whole of the cr500 advance. She'd already siphoned off half of it to pay her dealer. She did promise she'd cut down... but not this week.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Scene 5</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Chaos:</b> Average (d10)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Setup: </b>d10=Interrupt (was: go back during day)</div><div><b>Interrupt: </b>Move toward a thread - short term goals - Inform / Goals</div><div><br /></div><div><b>NPC List: </b>{Friend}, {Enemy}, Serafina, Basil (patron), Argyros (target), assassins</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Threads: </b>short-term goal, long term-goal, cash flow problems, steal Argyros' research</div><div><br /></div><div>Theophania is on her way out, when she notices a <span style="color: #800180;">[d6=]</span> woman in an expensive, well-worn overcoat following her in the street. Theophania slows down to see if she's being tailed or approached, giving her time to once again marvel at the planet-wide pantomime of living out-of-doors, in which she as an obvious offworlder has never had to partake; the climate controls too warm here to make it comfortable. Thus it is almost surprising to hear the woman address her with a markedly Clytiean accent, and doubly so given the overwhelming local prejudice against people from that system <span style="color: #800180;">[from the SWN Hatred world tag]</span>.</div><div><br /></div><div>"We know what you're doing for Basil Paredes. We'd like you to consider working for us instead."</div><div><br /></div><div>"You being...?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"A third party. We can offer twice what he's paying you, and passage offworld."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Outertech would be a powerful enemy if I crossed them."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Do you really rate Basil so highly?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"It's his blundering about that scares me... but how do I contact you? Should I decide to accept your proposition, that is."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Give me your datapad. I'll put in my number."</div><div><br /></div><div>When Theophania looks at it afterward, she finds her new acquaintance has input her name as simply 'Olafemi'.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj94ApdQXzDR6svYU-cWdZYQtqX7Q1OSumad2oGDgDng1mzmbD3Iu0lixrVzA22D2AIKk57youd34Z0Rq81sDbI_gTcaiB25GfmpPleCJspVHODQiYQIrPxY2tPaY96CsMD5aDi7bxoUgACnKtRFLOClsoU_LB0vEpIW8rgpY4p7QzxiCKs9uXo6xzB/s512/olafemi.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj94ApdQXzDR6svYU-cWdZYQtqX7Q1OSumad2oGDgDng1mzmbD3Iu0lixrVzA22D2AIKk57youd34Z0Rq81sDbI_gTcaiB25GfmpPleCJspVHODQiYQIrPxY2tPaY96CsMD5aDi7bxoUgACnKtRFLOClsoU_LB0vEpIW8rgpY4p7QzxiCKs9uXo6xzB/s320/olafemi.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'Olafemi'</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Scene 6</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Chaos: </b>Average (d10)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Setup: </b>d10=another Interrupt (was still: go back during day)</div><div><b>Interrupt: </b>NPC positive - assassins - Adjourn / Success</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Argyros is killed -- but Theophania will not find out just yet.]</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Scene 7</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Chaos:</b> Average (d10)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Setup: </b>go back during day</div><div><br /></div><div><b>NPC List:</b> {Friend}, {Enemy}, Serafina, Basil (patron), Argyros (target), assassins, "Olafemi"</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Threads: </b>short-term goal, long term-goal, cash flow problems, steal Argyros' research</div><div><br /></div><div>Theophania takes a roundabout journey to Suburb Dome 356, though she's mostly sure her potential new patrons aren't foolish or amateurish enough to follow her. She arrives only 40 minutes later than she'd intended; there's still plenty of time before the 'afternoon' commuters start coming home from work.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[6+ Wis/Notice to see if any witnesses present 2d6+1=4...]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>She stops before Argyros' house, looks about, and is convinced there is no one else on the whole of the street. She walks up to his kitchen window, peers inside, then focusses all the powers of her mind, imagining herself within. She fades like a cloud of breath on a cold morning, and then is standing on the other side of the glass, having slipped sideways through the fabric of spacetime. </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[She can Teleport up to 10m at the cost of a point of Effort. And now that she's done it (following an abysmal Notice roll) I need to ask the Oracle--</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Q: Was anyone about to notice? 50/50 (4+): O1 C9 - no (lucky her!)</span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Q: Is the house empty? unknown d6=1: O2 C1 - yes, and... </span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Wis/Notice 10+ to find anything important: 2d6+1=13</span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Q: Is it the needed research that she finds? Likely (3+): O4 C10 - yes]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Argyros' kitchen smells of stale beer and decomposing leftovers. The rest of his dwelling has a pervasive odour of sweaty socks. Argyros is too recently successful to have thought about getting a cleaning service in once a week, but it does make Theophania's job of turning over his house much easier; anything important is likely to be under the smallest amount of detritus.</div><div><br /></div><div>She finds the room he uses as an office, and the desk he uses to store empty crisp packets and cultivate mould in coffee mugs. One of its bottom drawers opens all the way, the other being blocked by dusty sporting equipment. The drawer is half-filled with a few useless gadgets, but beneath it all she finds the false bottom she was hoping for. Inside is a datapad which she pockets before replacing the bottom and the drawer's contents.</div><div><br /></div><div>She looks out a back window, and teleports into the empty avenue. She takes a different route back home.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is/was anyone following her? 50/50 (4+): O1 C6 - no]</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Scene 8</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Chaos</b>: Average (d10)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Setup:</b> talking with Serafina</div><div>d10=<b>Altered</b>: ADD A CHARACTER</div><div><br /></div><div><b>NPC List: </b>{Friend}, {Enemy}, Serafina, Basil (patron), assassins, "Olafemi"</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Threads:</b> short-term goal, long term-goal, cash flow problems, steal Argyros' research</div><div><br /></div><div>Theophania makes a few stops in the market on the way back to the flat. When she gets in, she stashes the datapad and starts cooking something nice. She is shocked when Serafina gets home from work -- with Basil in tow. </div><div><br /></div><div>"The hell...? When I said I was cooking dinner, I meant just for us. You didn't mention this was going to be a working meal."</div><div><br /></div><div>"After what happened," begins Serafina unsteadily, "I mean..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"What happened?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"You haven't heard?" asks Basil without his customary leer.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Heard what?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Argyros is dead. He was <span style="color: #800180;">[Wildly / Lethal]</span> shot dead in the street on his lunch hour."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Huh. I guess we're done, then."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Done? You can't give up now!"</div><div><br /></div><div>"How am I supposed to get his research without him? Saunter into his lab at Outertech headquarters?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Uhhh..."</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[8+ Cha/Talk to get rid of him: 2d6+1=13!]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Basil is unable to see any way forward following Argyros' murder, and Theophania offers no solutions of her own, having already made up her mind to accept Olafemi's better offer. She reaches out with her psi powers to gauge his true emotions...</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is he resigned to the failure? 50/50 (4+): O6 C5 - yes]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>...and finds nothing but resignation. He soon takes his leave.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Is dinner ruined? 50/50 (4+): O2 C5 - no]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>The mood doesn't lighten much when Basil goes, but Serafina puts on a brave face and tries to appreciate the effort that Theophania went through to cook all her favourite dishes. It was a brave effort for one who has only the most superficial understanding of Inahian cuisine, and cannot be adjudged a real success. But it is a charming failure nonetheless.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Reaction roll: 2d6 + 1(Charisma bonus) = 11, Serafina is understanding]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>After dinner they go to the bedroom, but sit on the edge of the bed in silence for a while. Serafina knows the words Theophania is going to say even before they are spoken.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I have to leave soon. This went badly -- is going badly. There may be reprisals, and I don't want them falling on you."</div><div><br /></div><div>"You always said you weren't intending to stay on Inah long."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'd intended to be at least to Parra by now. If we hadn't..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Don't make this harder than it needs to be."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I won't. I'll still be here in the morning, you know."</div><div><br /></div><div>"But any day now..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Any day..."</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Things are a little difficult, so Chaos increases]</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Scene 9</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Chaos:</b> Out-of-control (d8)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Setup: </b>d8=Interrupt (was: calls Olafemi)</div><div><b>Interrupt: </b>NPC action - Olafemi - Ambush / A path</div><div><br /></div><div><b>NPC List: </b>{Friend}, {Enemy}, Serafina, Basil (patron), assassins, "Olafemi"</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Threads: </b>short-term goal, long term-goal, cash flow problems, Argyros' research</div><div><br /></div><div>Two days later, Theophania is headed down the shops when Olafemi appears out of the crowd.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Gilso?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm not the kind of girl who turns down a hot beverage on offer, so lead the way."</div><div><br /></div><div>Olafemi buys them both a drink and pastry (or what passes for pastry on Inah) which they take to a bench in the red grass park.</div><div><br /></div><div>"I have a new proposition for you, if you're interested."</div><div><br /></div><div>Theophania swallows her mouthful of sugary dough with some difficulty before responding. "I need to get offworld."</div><div><br /></div><div>"The job is offworld."</div><div><br /></div><div>"So that was why you offered..."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Naturally. But since the business with Argyros was cut short--"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Not quite."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Oh? You still have a lead?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"I have his secret datapad. I was going to call you in a couple days when things settled. Plus I wasn't quite ready to leave yet."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I see. This this excellent news. When can you be ready to go, then? Assuming you'll take the job."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I don't know yet. What is it?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Just a courier assignment." <span style="color: #800180;">[d8=Guard an object being transported]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>"Sounds simple enough. What's the catch?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Our rivals will try to intercept it -- the usual."</div><div><br /></div><div>"What's my fee?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"1000 credits, plus the passage to the job, and then a nearby system. Parra perhaps, or--"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Parra's fine."</div><div><br /></div><div>"So you accept?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Yeah, sure, why not?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Good. How soon can you leave?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"Give me 48hours. I'll hand over the datapad at the starport."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'll bring your payment for it then. I believe I'd offered 5000 credits. How do you want it?"</div><div><br /></div><div>"1000 in something I can spend on Parra. Cash is fine. The balance I'd prefer to put in someone else's account. Here, on Inah."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Of course. Transmit me the details, and I'll send you details of your passage."</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Scene 10</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><b>Chaos:</b> Out-of-control (d8)</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Setup:</b> last day with Serafina</div><div><br /></div><div><b>NPC List: </b>{Friend}, {Enemy}, Serafina, Basil (patron), assassins, "Olafemi"</div><div><br /></div><div><b>Threads:</b> short-term goal, long term-goal, cash flow problems, Argyros' research</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: how does it go? Bravely / Soft]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>The last day with Serafina is sweet and occasionally tearful, but they've both decided to enjoy what time they have left together and pretend that they won't be in separate star systems a week from now. Serafina takes the day off so they can re-visit all their favourite haunts, finally ending up in the nightclub where they met.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You know," observes Serafina as the DJs are changing shifts, "this makes five weeks to the day that I first saw you on that dance floor."</div><div><br /></div><div>Theophania checks her chronometer. "It's almost five weeks to the hour that you took me home."</div><div><br /></div><div>"How forward of me! I guess I didn't feel much like dancing that night."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I'm not sure I do now."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ooooh... I'll get my coat!"</div><div><br /></div><div>. . . . .</div><div><br /></div><div>Theophania is fighting off another wave of sadness as the maglev arrives at the starport terminus. She's pretty sure lack of sleep is not helping with the rush of raw emotion.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">[Q: Does she get to the starport without incident? Likely (3+): O3 C7 - yes</span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Q: How big is the item she must escort? (1d4): 1 tiny, 2 small, 3 medium 4 huge: 3=medium]</span></div><div><br /></div><div>Olafemi meets her in a bar near the shuttle platform. She's sat at a table near the back, next to an oversized suitcase.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You like you could do with a drink."</div><div><br /></div><div>"How perspicacious."</div><div><br /></div><div>She goes to the bar to fetch one whilst Theophania slumps in the other side of the booth.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Your package is in the suitcase," says Olafemi upon her return. "It's wrapped up like a present, ostensibly from the recipient's sister. She didn't tell you what it is so no one can ruin the surprise. Needless to say the real parcel can't be opened. Your recipient will know the codes for the lock. Sorry it's so heavy, but we needed to shield it from scanners. There's a datapad with the information you'll need in the case, along with your 2000 credits -- in Parran currency."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Speaking of presents," says Theophania, producing a small gift-wrapped box from her coat pocket, "here's a little something from me."</div><div><br /></div><div>"I transmitted the rest of your payment into Ms. Adeyeku's account when I saw you come in."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Ta. It makes my life so much easier when everyone trusts one another."</div><div><br /></div><div>"Indeed. If you're ever through this way again, I'd love to do more business with you. I've messaged my associates on Parra to look out for you, too, should you find yourself in need of employment there."</div><div><br /></div><div>Within the hour Theophania is on a shuttle speeding away from Inah.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><i>next post: conversion notes for M-Space. But then... space adventure!</i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Alea iactanda esthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17951704235056042923noreply@blogger.com2