ItO solo - Part V : obols for the ferryman

They proceed wordlessly down a long corridor. Several annoyed huffs later, they reach a side passage, which ends in a closed door.

"Do we try it?" asks Bassianus.

"It's the right way to go, I suppose," says Athalie.

Swayed by her ringing endorsement, they take the passage.

[Room 14]

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.

[Q: Who is he? Ye Slaves of Appetite]

The sudden light glinting off the brass alerts him to the new arrivals, and he wheels about with a flourish of his cloak.

"Who are you?" asks Isabeau.

"I? Who are you? You obviously aren't star cultists, and you don't look like you work for the sewer conglomerate..."

"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?" [Athalie's WIL save (Reaction roll) succeeds, so he's willing to talk]

"You mean you don't recognise me?"

"I'm afraid not."

"My name is -- Bunbury."

"Oh."

"You've not heard of me? Really?"

"Sorry."

"I am Bunbury: the Epicure Supreme -- The modern-day Trimalchio -- Last of the red hot flâneurs. And lately, a fugitive from the star cult."

"Do you know a way out?"

[Q: Does he? 50/50 (4+): O3 C8 - no]

"I fear I have lost my way."

"Come with us, then, and we shall find you a way to the surface."

"Really?" asks Bassianus.

"Any enemy of the cult..."

"You've a point there, my dear."

[Q: Does he have any equipment? likely (3+): O6 C7 - yes (alternate starting character)
Q: Does he have any cash? doubtful (6): O6 C4 - yes, but d30=19s
Q: Has he taken any damage? 1d4-1 attributes reduced: 1, d3=STR d8=3damage]

Bunbury
STR 6/9, DEX 16, WIL 9, 6hp
crowbar (d6), snail, scented candle, 19s

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.

[Room 15]

[puzzle : desperate Madness (so, more a trap than a puzzle)]

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.

[They all needed WIL saves to avoid madness. For the failures--
Q: What is Bassianus' folly? unruly Appetites
Q: What is Bunbury's folly? rejoice in this blessed Hope]

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 [3 damage kills] and begins to devour it raw, feathers and all.

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 [WIL save succeeds], and they follow the curve round to the far end, where a long, lonely tunnel leads them to...

[Room 16]

...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.

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. [encounter: drooping Mother]

Drooping Mother
STR 15, DEX 10, WIL 11, 9HP
Driven to make a vile soup
Rubbery skin (Armour 2)
Awful Wail (d6 Blast), if critical damage inflicted target drains away to a pool of bubbling fluid -- to be added to the broth

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.

[The rest must make DEX saves to avoid Surprise: Athalie, Bassianus, and the Drooping Mother succeed.]

[Round 1]
Bunbury wields a crowbar like a bludgeon. It connects solidly with the awful beldam, but bounces off her rubbery hide [5-2=3 damage to 6hp]. Athalie and Bassianus follow with sword and hatchet, but their blades too meet resistance on the thick, drooping dermis [2-2=0, 4-2=2 damage, down to 4hp].

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.

[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]

[Round 2]
Joined by Isabeau, they continue to lay into the abomination, but their weapons are continually repelled by the rubbery flesh [7 total damage get through; it's down to 0hp, 12 STR, but avoids critical damage.]

The keening will not stop. Athalie proves the most resistant to it [to 0hp exactly], but Bassianus and Isabeau are certain their limbs are going to explode [both to 0hp, 9 STR, no crit]. 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 [failed his STR save].

[Round 3]
The others' terror renews the fury of their assault, and the keening is abruptly silenced [crit damage]. They do not stop until the thing is a pulpy mass beneath the tatters of purloined skin.

Their rage and fear spent, they stand round their new comrade's... remains.

"Poor sod," says Athalie.

"I'd just been starting to warm to him," adds Bassianus.

"Well, he won't be needing his stuff any more," observes Isabeau.

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.

[Q: Did the drooping Mother have any treasure? unknown d6=2: O1 C8 - no]

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. [Short rest, no encounter, HP back to full; WIL save for navigation succeeds]

They follow her down a short passage which opens out into a long, triangular space.

[Room 17]

[contents: Goal (the exit), caustic pools]

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.

The explorers are certain it means them ill, and ready their arms to do battle.

Skeletal Ungulate
STR 8, DEX 13, WIL 6, 15hp
Nasty bite (d8)
immune to missiles and acid, but shatters if it suffers critical damage

[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]

[Round 1]
The skeleton bounds up, rears, and bites at Isabeau, but she fends off the snapping jaws before they fasten on her throat [4dmg to 1hp]. 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 [Impaired attacks, so d4+d4+d4=10 damage, dropping it to 5hp].

[Round 2]
Its snaps at Isabeau's face, and the teeth just barely scrape the end of her nose [1 damage to 0hp]. But it soon reduced to a lifeless jumble of bones at her feet. [critical damage, shatters]

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...

[Q: Are they very close to their destination? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and...]

...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.

[2 out of 3 PCs must succeed in a Save in order to pull this off]

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.

"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." [WIL save: d20=14, success]

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."

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.

Whilst the shopkeeper is preoccupied, Isabeau slinks behind the counter and jabs the Tack into the wall. [DEX save: d20=3, success] When she glides back onto the sales floor, Bassianus gives Athalie the signal (a wink -- they couldn't think up anything better).

"I just can't decide! Dame Ilford, do come over and let me have your opinion."

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.

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.

Dénouement

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).

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.

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--

Q: Is it an Arcanum? doubtful (6): O1 C7 - no
Q: Is it worth something? doubtful (6): O5 C6 - no
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.

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.

Athalie
STR increases to 13, DEX to 14, +5hp

Bassianus
STR to 6, DEX to 11, WIL to 7, +3hp

Isabeau
STR to 17, DEX to 10, WIL to 10, +4hp

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 next adventure commences... anon.

ItO solo - Part IV : rabie fera carens dum breve tempus animus est

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.

[Room 10]

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.

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.

"Friends!" exclaims the man. "Have you come to pay obeisance to the Radiant Malignancies of Her Divine Putridity?"

"Sorry, old chap," says Bassianus. "I was raised C of B."

"I'm not, er, terribly religious," stammers Isabeau.

"I'm a nice Jewish girl," adds Athalie.

"Destroy them, my Accursed Thing!"

[encounter: cult adept & pet

Q: Does the adept possess useful item? 50/50: O3 C6 - no
Q: Treasure? 50/50 (5+): O5 C7 - yes]

Cult Adept
STR 11, DEX 10, WIL 13, 5 HP
Armour 2 (mystic aura), obsidian knife (d6)
Aura of Revulsion, enemies cower until WIL save succeeds
Steal Soul, target take d4 WIL damage, adds to Adept's STR
Driven to draw blood for a dark goddess

Accursed Thing
STR 12, DEX 4, WIL 8, 7 HP
Driven to bite and to claw
Bite & Claw d8
once-human, warped by dark rituals


[Round 1]

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. [They failed their WIL saves]

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 [6-2(armour) damage puts him at 1hp]. The Adept strikes back with his obsidian knife, not connecting but forcing Athalie back a step or two [1 damage leaves her with 4hp].

Isabeau engages the Thing. It seems insensible to her sword point [1 damage, to 6hp], but at least she mostly escapes its filthy, clutching claws [3 damage puts her at 2hp].

[Round 2]

Bassianus and Geta are still whimpering with nausea [WIL saves fail again].

Athalie inflicts another minor wound on the Adept, but his resolve does not falter [5-2=3dmg to 0hp, STR 9, d20=no crit]. Isabeau is beginning to doubt that the Thing even notices the repeated stabbings [4 damage, 2hp left].

The Thing catches hold of Isabeau's left wrist, and drags her close to take a bite out of her upper arm [7 damage to 0hp, STR 12, d20=1, no crit]. She's too angry about the damage to the nice lace sleeve to feel any pain from the needle-like teeth.

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 [1 WIL damage (to 15), Adept's STR up to 10].

[Round 3]

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 Thing drops besides its master [both took critical damage]. They hack at their downed foes until it is certain the jumble of limbs and other odds & sods will pose no further threat.

They take a few minutes to recover from the ordeal [short rest, d6=no encounter]. 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.

[Q: What treasure is here? If this be secured, thou art greatly rich - 10d10s worth of jewellery, but selling it in the wrong place will alert the authorities / invite revenge from the victims' families.

Q: Does shrine altar have any power? likely (3+): O2 C5 - no]

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.

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.

[Room 11]

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.

[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.

The PCs needed DEX saves: 17,17,5 - only Isabeau avoids Surprise, allowing her to act in the first round.]

       STR DEX WIL HP
Clodia  15  10  12  3
Gaius    4  16  13  3
Caelius 11  12  11  4

wicked knives (d6)

[Round 1]

"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. [Clodia took 4 damage, dropping her to 0hp, 14 STR; d20=2, no crit. She inflicted 2 damage on Isabeau, putting her at 3hp.]

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 [2 damage puts him at 0hp, 14 STR; d20=8, no crit]. Athalie manages a weak defence, but fends off Caelius' wild attack [4 damage, 1hp left].

[Round 2]

Bassianus cracks open Gaius's forehead with his hatchet [5 damage to 0hp, 2 STR, crit]; he staggers back and topples onto a cot, insensate.

Athalie slashes back at Caelius, but the pain of the cut into his shoulder only makes his eyes glitter with malicious glee [5 damage to 0hp, 10 STR, no crit]. His dagger flashes before her eyes in a swift arc; a few centimetres further and she'd have lost an eye [1 damage to 0hp].

Isabeau sticks Clodia in the other flank, but she does not fall [3 damage to 11 STR, no crit]. 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 [5 damage to 0hp, 10 STR, d20=16, crit].

[Round 3]

Clodia is looming over Isabeau, about to finish her off, but Bassianus buries his hatchet in her shoulder [5 damage to 5 STR, crit]. She drops beside Isabeau, their blood mingling in a pool on the tacky rug.

Athalie strikes Caelius again, but the madman seems continually emboldened by the bloody gashes now criss-crossing his torso. [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.]

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. [6 damage dropped her to 6 STR, 11=crit]

[Round 4]

Caelius' cackles of glee are cut short as Bassianus crashes his hatchet down at the base of his skull.

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. [short rest, HP to full, no encounters]

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. [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.]

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.

"You're sure the way is through here..." says Bassianus.

"Unfortunately," says Athalie.

"You're positive?" asks Isabeau.

"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.

[Room 12]

[contents: uncomfortably cold, pearlescent mist, grating noises
Q: Does the mist have any effect? 50/50 (4+): O1 C6 - no]

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.

This they do, and despite the clamorous grinding, the bitter cold, and the awful, blinding blankness, they pass through to the other side unharmed.

[Room 13]

[contents: gentle breeze, strange ribbons of light =Confines of Eternity]

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.

[They need WIL saves to not become entranced: Bassianus fails.]

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 [and drains d6=2 WIL -- he's down to 1!]. Geta screeches and launches himself from Bassianus' shoulder, flying off to where the lights cannot reach him [WIL save succeeded on a natural 1].

"What is it with him and cosmic enrapturements," grumbles Isabeau, grabbing his hand to pull him out of the room [STR save succeeds]. 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.

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.

next post: the epicure, the flesh thief, and the skeletal ungulate

ItO solo - Part III : A jaunt through the sewers

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.

[The dungeon was run using the In the Heart of the Delve & Dangerous 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.

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.

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.]

[Room 1]

[no encounter/hazard; smell - blooming orchard]

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.

"I was afraid the air down here was going to be beyond disgusting," says Athalie, "but it smells like a blooming orchard in here."

"I never knew you to mince your words, my sweet," responds Isabeau.

"I wasn't, dear heart. Let me try again: it smells like a fucking orchard in bloom."

"It does at that!"

"I doubt this good fortune will last," says Bassianus. "Which way now?"

"The sewer taxi runs in roughly this direction," says Athalie, pointing, "so we should try that door."

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.

[Room 2]

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. [encounter: d6=2 Invading Gloom]

Invading Gloom
STR 8, DEX 12, WIL 12, 2hp
Driven to extinguish light
Obscure Claws, no damage but extinguish light source if DEX save failed
Shadowy form: attacks by non-light bearers are Impaired

[DEX Saves to avoid surprise miraculously all succeed]

[Round 1]

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 [d4=1 damage]. 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 [5 damage, crit].

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 [1+2=3 dmg to 0hp, 7 STR; 19=crit].

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.

[Room 3]

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."

"Indeed," he says, and abandons the search.

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.

"I think it will hold. But I'm afraid you must go first with the light, my sweet."

"I do so wish we could see the far side," says Isabeau as she steps tentatively past her friend.

[encounter: Spotless Victim
Q: Is it dangerous? 50/50 (4+): O4 C3 - yes, but... not intrinsically]

Spotless Victim
STR 6, DEX 8, WIL 4, 1hp
Driven to beg for scraps

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.

"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.

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.

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.

[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.

Bassianus & Isabeau needed STR rolls to wrench free of the tentacles; the dice were very kind.]

[Room 4]

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.

A passageway leads to...

[Room 5]

...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...

[Q: Any effect from looking at them? Unlikely (5+): O3 C2 - no, and... essentially indecipherable]

...but must soon admit she can't decipher a single one.

[Room 6]

As they take a short passage to the next chamber, the temperature drops sharply and the scent of cheap perfume wafts over them.

[chamber dressing: perfumey taste, flame spouting tar pits, very cold]

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.

"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.

The gratings clank with their footsteps as they traverse the chamber. But unbeknownst to them all, a star cultist has concealed [d6=] himself in a small recess, having been alerted to the explorers' arrival by the approaching lantern light.

star cultist (4hp, rusty knife d6)

[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]

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. [the attack is Enhanced; d12=4 damage to 0hp, STR 15, but d20=2, B avoids critical damage]

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. [6 damage put him at 0hp, 8STR; d20=20, critical damage]

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. [due to the cloying odour, Short Rests are impossible in this room]

[Room 7]

[contents: mortal danger/hazard -- Pavilion of Darkness]

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.

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.

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...

[Room 8]

[Sanctuary / area of relative safety]

...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).

[short rest, no encounter, Bassianus gets his HP back]

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 [room 6], from which they take the side exit, leading almost immediately to...

[Room 9]

[feature - pits (tar, normal) ; encounter - bloody Scourge]

...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.

[Q: Is the overseer at all amenable to letting them past? unlikely (5+): O1 C4 - no, but... could be bribed]

"Get to work, you loafers, or you'll feel my sting!"

"We're not workers," says Athalie. "Why, one need only look at us. This is my best frock!"

"'tisn't really," mutters Isabeau.

"Quiet, dear, you're not helping."

"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."

"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."

"Yes. Indeed, my good man. I, er... Geta, attack!"

Overseer
STR 14, 6hp, scourge d8

[The overseer needs a DEX save: d20=11, failure - can't attack in the surprise round.

Bassianus & Geta do 6 & 4 damage respectively, dropping him to 0hp, 10 STR; d20=14, critical]

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.

A short passage leads to the top of a spiral staircase, which leads the explorers down

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next post: evil cults and misplaced literary references

ItO solo - Part II : Blood and goo

"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."

Isabeau draws and cocks her pistol. "I'm sorry in advance," says she, "if I have to fire this in such cramped confines."

"I'm still half-deaf from the last time," says Athalie.

They creep forward through the damp murky passage...

[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.]


~T0 : random - none - random
Location: Tranquil, Ruined
Object: Meaningful, Enormous

...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.


~T1 : random - none - expected
Location: Mysterious, Artistic

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.


~T2 : random - random - expected
Location: Mundane, Lonely
Encounter: Fearful, Playful

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."

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.


~T3 : random - random - random
Location: Enclosed, Threatening
Encounter: Slow, Mysterious
Object: Positive, Powerful

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. [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.]

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.

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.

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.

The Creeping Glurg
STR 14, DEX 5, WIL 13, 3hp
bite (d6)

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."

"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. [a STR save was needed to cut through in one swing without breaking the sword]

[Q: Was this a terrible idea? unlikely (5+): O2 C3 - no, and...
Q: What is reward? Almighty Power]

"I thank you most heartily. I am known amongst your sages as the Creeping Glurg. Now, to your reward."

The Glurg retches up a loaf of phosphorescent yellow paste about the size of a pint glass.

"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!"

[Titan Paste: STR 18 until depleted through damage, one use, takes about 10 minutes to apply all the doughy substance]

"How did you come to be here, O Glurg?" asks Athalie. [WIL save succeeds, good reaction]

"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."

"Do you know the way out?"

[Q: does it? unlikely (5+): O2 C6 - no]

"I regret that I do not."

"Follow us then. We'll find it together."

"I will follow you. But go not too quickly, I beseech you."

The Glurg trundles after them as they pass through a door on the far side of the vault.


~T4 : complete - random - none
Encounter: Unexpected, Military

The room beyond is indeed the way out, as the heavy, barred door and nearby umbrella stand attest. But barring the way are [1d3=] 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).

[Per the Hirelings section of the rulebook, the mercenaries have STR/DEX/WIL 10, 2d6 hp, sword]

[Round 1]

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. [merc-A takes a total of 2+1=3 damage; he's got 6hp left.]

Bassianus engages the other mercenary with his hatchet as his hawk claws at his face. [4+2 damage leaves him with 1hp]

The mercenaries strike back. Their steel rings off Athalie's sword and Bassianus' hatchet [A takes 3 damage to 2hp, B takes 1 to 0hp]

[Round 2]

Athalie inflicts a bloody cut to her opponent's abdomen [6 damage] as Isabeau circles round to deliver a solid punch to the side of the head [4 damage]. The mercenary falls, his sword skittering onto the threadbare welcome mat. [10 damage put him at 0hp, STR 6: STR save d20=15, critical damage]

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. [both did 6 damage, dropping him to 0hp, STR5; d20=7, crit. The entire party somehow rolled maximum damage this round.]

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.

The explorers must pause to catch their breath after the fighting [short rest d6=3, no encounters]. "Well, that was bracing!" says Bassianus with forced bravado.

"You look a bit peaked, my dear," says Athalie.

"I think," adds Isabeau, "that you'd ought to use the paste now. We've still a long ways to go."

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.

Meanwhile Isabeau reloads her pistol and helps herself to a sword, wiping off the lipstick residue as best she is able.

Shortly thereafter, they file out into the alleyway, leaving the bleeding mercenaries to quietly expire at their post.

[Now back to the first LC sequence.]


T3 : expected - expected - random
Object: Magnificent, Fuel

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.


T4 : complete - special - expected
Special: RETURN

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.

next post: the sewer/dungeon 

ItO solo - Part I : The fate of three

"Fail me and your lives are forfeit," rasped the voice from out of the shadows. "Now, go."

The three companions do not dare hesitate, but file silently out of the dim and musty parlour, closing the door softly behind them. They descend the creaking stair to the first landing, and pause, looking at one another in consternation.

"All he wants us to do," begins Isabeau, "is to take this this tack and push it into the wall behind the sales counter of the hattery? Is that truly the task for which we've been summoned?"

"Who are we to question?" says Bassianus. "We are his creatures until our debts are paid."

"His goals are so inscrutable! Do you think the tack is an Arcanum?"

"Possibly. Or he may very well be mad."

"I've heard it said he may not be entirely human. Oh! I didn't mean..."

All eyes look down to Athalie's clawed, chitinous left hand, with its overlong fingers like the segmented legs of a crab.

"I know you didn't, my dear, " says Athalie. "Which of us will take charge of the tack?"

"I will," says Isabeau. "I've an old medicine tin in my purse. So, how are we to get across town?"

[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 third fourth adventure with ideas for a fourth fifth...

Rather than worrying about a plot, I used the d6+d6 mission generator from my other campaign.

Mission: take item X to place Y
Compensation: do it or else

The item was a random picture out of my ItO picture folder. The place was rolled on the Bastion's Greatest Businesses table in the Oddpendium at the back of the rulebook: d%=Hightower Hats & Canes.

The PCs' mysterious patron, to whom they are all in a good deal of debt (I decided arbitrarily), requires this service just to cover the recent interest. This is the same shadowy patron my other two parties serve(d), so there's a chance of crossover depending how the campaign develops.

My toolbox for the adventure is:
- Into the Odd 2nd edition
- Mythic with my MCSV & bibliomancy for the Oracle questions*
- the various Random Location Crafting articles in Mythic Magazine
- d30 Sandbox Companion
- UNE
- folders full of pictures for encounters, treasure, etc. -- usually photoshopped

* The first adventure is all dungeon & urban crawls, so there are no Scenes and a static 1d8 Chaos Die. In place of the action/subject meaning tables, I used bibliomancy, plucking a phrase at random from Hervey's Meditations (Rev. James Hervey, 1714–1758. His Meditations were considered the prose analogue to the poetry of the Graveyard School). My copy is in 2 disparate volumes, printed in 1796 (vol II) and 1778 (vol I), which are the oldest books I own, so at some point I switched to an electronic version and copied&pasted from there to give the spines a break.

The PCs were totally random. Athalie's portrait was something I made for my first ItO campaign when I was messing about with pictures to be used as random encounters/NPCs. When she got 'Ugly Mutation' as part of her starting package, I knew it had to be her. I gave the claw game stats as it seemed like it should do decent damage, but also get in the way.]

Athalie
STR 12, DEX 13, WIL 17, 5hp
sword (d6), steel wire
Ugly Mutation (crableg-claw (d6), no fine manipulation, 2-h mêlée weapons Impaired)

Bassianus
STR 5, DEX 10, WIL 6, 1hp
musket (d8), hatchet (d6)
Hawk ("Geta", STR 5, d6 claws)
Pain Idol

Isabeau
STR 16, DEX 9, WIL 9, 5hp
pistol (d6), acid, animal repellant
Prosthetic Hand (fully-functional, clockwork mechanism, requires constant winding)


There is a taxi stand at the end of their Patron's street, but our intrepid heroes pretend not to see it, heads hanging low in shame, refusing to look one another in the eye, as all are empty of purse. [Oddpendium: The Quickest Route Across Town d%= horse carriage]

"It looks like we're walking," sighs Bassianus. He whistles sharply, summoning his pet hawk, Geta, down from his roof-top perch, and they set off on their way.

[What's this street like? d%= shopping arcade, dangerous]

To-day the omnipresent gloom comes with a mildly stinging drizzle. The companions decide to cut through an indoor shopping arcade, a dim and smoky maze of passages crowded with the shuffling masses, and lined with stalls where merchants of evil countenance sell frightening and exotic wares. Perhaps the out-of-doors were not so unpleasant after all! They spot an exit, and make for it in all haste, though the streets of the market outside are no less teeming. It is a struggle to make one's way through without being swept along by the unwashed tide.

[Each PC needs a Willpower save to get through unmolested--

Athalie (WIL 17), d20=8 success
Bassianus (WIL 6), d20=15 fail
Isabeau (WIL 9), d20=3, success

Q: What happens to Bassianus? (random pic from my Urban Encounter folder)]

Athalie and Isabeau wind their way carefully through the masses, timing their movements just so, and before long they've crossed the street. Isabeau stands on the end of a broken bench to scan the crown for Bassianus.

"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!"

[I'd given him a DEX save (DEX 10) to avoid a mishap: d20=16, fail
Q: What happens? bodily Vigour

The peevish soldiers give Bassianus a good thrashing for d10=2 damage; this reduces him to 0hp, STR 4. He needs a STR save to avoid Critical Damage: d20=3, he remains conscious.]

"This is truly nonsensical," says Bassianus after having rejoined his companions, "We'd ought to find a way out of the crowds."

"Agreed," says Isabeau.

"Perhaps you'd ought to stanch the blood dripping from your nose first," observes Athalie.

[This was to be a dungeon crawl, but since I was enjoying the streets of Bastion, I decided to have a little urban crawl to get to the dungeon entrance (being the sewers they will use to cut across town). I used the Location Crafting Random Cities from Mythic Magazine #16 / Compilation 3, with the neighbourhood counting as a Small Location since they essentially know where they're going.]

T0 : expected - random (pic) - expected

The market stalls spill out into another street, and fill the next little square beyond as well. Isabeau leads the way through, manoevring round coagulations of the heaving populace, or using her surprising and superior brawn [STR 16] to shoulder her way through. Athalie follows close behind, and Bassianus does his best to keep up. He's released Geta to fly overhead, but the imbecile bird just turns lazy circles instead of finding them a path. Perhaps he'd out to invest in a good trainer for him -- should he ever possess sufficient finds. «Sigh»

As they advance, [d3=] Bassianus feels a tug at his sleeve. He looks down to find that he's been accosted by a petulant little waif. "Sweeties, sweeties," she whines.

[Q: What's she want? the Lustre of innumerable Stars]

Petulant Cult-Child
STR 9 DEX 13 WPR 17, 6hp
Driven to spread the influence of the star gods, but will go away if given sweeties
Infinite Glance: 1 damage to all attributes per round; WIL save or under control of the child

She tugs ever more insistently at his sleeve. "Sweeties, sweeties," she whimpers, as she stares into his eyes with her Infinite Glance. He cannot avert his gaze; he sees beyond and is consumed. [Wil save d20=12, fail... & all stats reduced by 1]

"Bloody hell," mutters Isabeau, and drags the half-paralytic Bassianus bodily away. [STR save d20=2, success]. The child does not give up her quarry easily. She runs in pursuit, grasping hands outstretched, ever whining her hideous refrain. "Sweeties, sweeties!"

Athalie stands aside, and slyly puts a foot out in the child's path [the child's DEX save d20=20, fail]. The whelp sprawls onto the dirty cobbles and begins to wail. Athalie melts back into the crowd.[DEX save succeeds]

Bastion's entire profanum vulgus seem to be doing their shopping this miserable afternoon, so the press of reeking bodies is too dense for our heroes to cross the rest of the square. But a side street beckons [connector: Same, with a side Area]; they head down it in hopes of getting out of the chaos.

T1 : expected - expected - random
object: ornamental fountain

There are more stalls in the side street, and punters besides, but where the crowd thins out, an ornamental fountain bubbles away. There is a suspiciously small number of people willing to get close to it, but Bassianus wants to get a drink from the waters. At first it tastes of lime scale and sulphur, but as it goes down there's an aftertaste of the purest ambrosia, and restores no small amount of clarity to Bassianus' punch-drunk brain.

[I eat the Stuff: d%=first taste is gross, the second delicious. I let it restore 1 random attribute point: d3=WIL; this also counts as a Short Rest, so he's back to full HP.]

Meanwhile, Isabeau has removed her right glove, revealing her clockwork artificial hand. "Damn thing's run down again. Be a dear, won't you...?"

"Of course, my treasure," says Athalie, winding the mechanism.

More shops are beginning to open, so Isabeau is still pulling on her glove as she and her companions begin hurrying down the street.

T2 : random - random - none
location: random picture
encounter: ibid.

(sometimes I don't have to edit the pictures at all)

[Oddpendium cult generator: Family of the Glorious Skull (outlawed cult)]

The street narrows. They pass a low wooden door with black iron fittings, above which hangs a weathered deer skull with silvered antlers. An old man of strange aspect stands before it, reading from a tattered old book. He grabs [d3=] Isabeau as they try to file past.

"Armed for war, are we?" [prejudiced - view - weapons]

"These streets aren't safe nowadays. I'd not leave my garret with fewer weapons."

"There is a better way, you know."

"The only better way I'm interested in is the one that leads out of this borough."

"If you'll but hear me out, there is a shortcut through my temple." [insane - façade - current scene]

[WIL saves: all succeed, not buying it]

"There's a taxi stand just two streets over," interjects Bassianus.

"We simply couldn't impose," says Isabeau.

"We're late for brunch with the Rabbi as it is," lies Athalie.

[Q: What does the old man do? Transporting Reflection]

The old man mutters something indistinct, calling on the Skull's powers of illusion. Suddenly the crowd in the street seemingly begins to surge, threatening to overwhelm the explorers and trample them underfoot. The old man opens the door and steps into the temple. The explorers dash in behind him.

Once inside...

[Q: Now what's his game? a commanding Call, to spurn the abject Earth, and pant after unseen Delights]

...the old man starts talking about the aims of his astral cult, the Family of the Glorious Skull. His promises of salvation, glory, monthly entertainment vouchers, and spiritual perfection ring ever more hollow as he drones on. Tedium gives way to nervousness as he leads them through a maze of cramped and twisting passageways. Mildew creeps up the badly-plastered walls, affronting eye and nose alike. The corroded pipes overhead leak brown droplets onto the damp, uneven floor. Unevenly spaced gaslights leave pools of darkness between.

At length the old man begins to cantillate from his psalter, and astral visions swim before the eyes of the listeners.

[WIL saves: A d20=9, ok; B 18, fail; I 2, ok]

Bassianus swoons, enraptured by vistas of swirling stars and billowing nebulae that fill his awareness. Athalie and Isabeau shake off the heady phantasy and fall on the man with their fists.

[Stats are 3d6 for all attributes, 2d6 HP, powers made up on the spot]

The Old Man of Strange Aspect
STR 13, DEX 13, WIL 13, 3hp
Driven to swell the ranks of his nefarious order
Shining Touch (d6), damage in excess of HP comes off target's WIL and may cause Critcal damage.
Rapturous Cantillation, WIL save to avoid catatonia filled with euphoric visions. 1 WIL damage per round, effect ends when a save succeeds or chanting ceases. At WIL 0, all free will dissipates and the character becomes a thrall of the astral cult

[Round 1]
Athalie hates using her hideous claw hand as a weapon, but as there's not enough room to swing a sword in this corridor, needs must. Isabeau squeezes in beside her to pummel the old cultist with her bare knuckles. [their attacks are Impaired (1d4). 1+3=4 damage total, reducing the old man to 0hp, STR 12. STR save to avoid Critical damage: d20=8, success]

The old man's fingertips begin to glow with a silver light. He reaches out to touch [d2=] Athalie's face. She backpedals, and his fingers fall short, though her skin is all pins and needles where the light fell upon it [d6=3 damage, reducing her 2 HP].

Despite being punched thrice in the face, his droning psalmody continues unabated.

[Round 2]
Athalie's awful claw rakes down the man's face and comes away spattered with blood and bits of skin, which will be revolting to have to pick off later [4 damage]. Isabeau delivers a solid hit to the sternum [2 damage]. The old man is staggered a moment, but undaunted. [6 total damage reduces his STR to 6. d20=4, avoids critical damage].

He reaches out for Athalie again, and this time his shining fingertips brush her cheek. She loses all sensation in her face, and feels a fire in her brain, but does not succumb. [3 damage, eliminates her 2hp, and the extra point comes off her Willpower, dropping it to 16. d20=9, no crit]

[Round 3]
'Why won't the fiend stop chanting? Perhaps he just hasn't been beaten enough,' thinks Isabeau. Then Athalie steps back away from the clutching silver fingers, and she finally has the space to deliver a punishing roundhouse. The old man is spun round by the force of the blow and flat up against the wall, dislodging some of the decaying plasterwork. He slides to the floor, defeated. [2+4=6 damage, leaving him with 2 STR; d20=10, crit.]

[Q: Does Bassianus snap out of it when he falls? unlikely (5+): O6 C8 - yes (noted in stat block above)
Q: Is he any worse for wear? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and... (also noted above)
He's down to 3 Willpower]

With the cantillation finally put to an end, Bassianus' visions fade. He steadies himself against the wall and takes a swig of cheap gin from his hip flask to steady his nerves. He offers some to Athalie, who's looking a bit peaked, but she declines, saying she's more of a whisky kind of girl. Fortunately she's brough a flask of her own. Isabeau is unharmed, so is forced to clear her throat pointedly until they both offer her a sip as well.

Athalie stabs the motionless cultist through the chest with her sword to make sure he is no longer a threat. She then pockets his psalter in case it's an Arcanum (doubtful), or worth something (doubtful), and hopes it's not dangerous to read (unlikely)

[short rest (1-in-6 random encounter check): d6=6, nothing; everyone recovers their lost HP

The parenthetical notes about the psalter are, of course, the likeliehood I will use for the associated Oracle questions when she has time to peruse her dubious treasure.]

"Do you suppose there's really a shortcut through here?" asks Isabeau.

next post: in the dungeons of the skull cult