CT solo - Part 1 : Working late

018-1105
Uakye B439598–D Ni

Ortance promised herself she'd not be the last one in the office again this evening. Some of the Gamma Lab technicians were going out to the Zhodani's Head for a few pints and she'd been invited. But here she is, double-checking her sim reports so she can drop them off when she knows the section chief won't even look at them until after the weekend. Besides, she can hear voices coming from the admin cubicles down the corridor. So she isn't the last one here.

Oh, but she shall be if she stays to finish these figures. Right, time to knock off and have a go at being social for a change. She takes up the stack of the annotated hardcopy reports she'd finished and then heads over to the section chief's office to deliver them.

The desk lamp is on, as is his computer, but the section chief is nowhere to be seen. Ortance helps herself to a memo pad and dashes off a note to say the rest of the reports are to follow. But when she puts the reports on his chair, she can't help but peek at what he has up on his screens.

It seems to be notes on a clinical trial of whatever hush-hush project they're working on in Theta Lab. Water cooler rumours say it's some sort of chromosomal therapy agent, but looking at the graphs on the screen she's sure it can't be. Intrigued, she reads the note from the head researcher below the raw data: "Batch 92.003-z results disappointing. Euphoric effects and addictive properties both lower than last. Perhaps we can increase addictiveness if the peptides..."

She can't believe what she's seeing, or stop herself from looking further. It looks like they are purposefully developing a street drug to be highly addictive with a minimum of immediate side effects provided that a steady supply is maintained, but painful withdrawal symptoms should it be broken: chemical shackles for a productive slave class. And she recognises the names of a dealer or two in the local 'test market' delineations.

Ortance is sickened at the thought of her company engaging in such heinously immoral research, and she immediately resolves to report it to the authorities. There's a fresh datacrystal on the desk. She slots it into the dataport and begins copying files onto it, hiding behind the desk so no one sees her in here. If someone does come by, she'll pretend she dropped the hardcopies on the floor and is picking them up. Is that a voice in the corridor? Why is this taking so fucking long...

[As stated in the character creation post, the 3rd Life Event I rolled on the table in Solo made a good campaign start: Learnt something you shouldn't know; you fled for your own safety.

Sometimes getting a first adventure going requires a fair few Oracle questions as well, so here are the ones that I used to figure out the exact set-up described above--

Q: What does Ortance discover? Divide / Status quo (new drug to control workers)
Q: Any nearby portable storage? 50/50 (4+): O5 C2 - yes, and...
Q: Is anyone else about? 50/50 (4+): O4 C3 - yes, but... only 1d3=3 others still in the office

Rules for the campaign will be Classic Traveller. I'm just going to use simple character creation methods for all PCs/NPCs (i.e. Book 1 & Supplement 4, but not books 4-7). All the world data will be a combination of the published sources I have in hardcopy and my own extrapolations from the UWPs, so it might contradict later sources that I haven't seen; I'm more interested in keeping the game moving than researching canon.

My copy of The Traveller Book still has the original dustjacket, since the previous owner protected it with a plastic cover.
But it's very shiny and hard to photograph in a nice tableau.

I've been using Mythic & my MCSV for the oracle, but due to the hexcrawl-y nature of a lot of Traveller, I haven't been using scenes yet. This will probably change if I continue much longer and pick up Patron missions or the like. I'm using a lot of the random tables in Zozer's Solo (ship encounters, bad reactions, port/jump/world events, NPC relationships, etc.) as usual. I'm using UNE for NPC conversations.

Now, back to the adventure...

Ortance needs a Computer skill roll of 7+ to make a quick backup: 2d+1=8, success

Q: Does anyone happen by? unlikely (5+): O4 C4 - no, but...
+Event: Move toward a thread - Imprison / Fears]

The upload proceeds at a crawl. Ortance has seen faster glaciers on the annual school ski trip to Mt. Cratesicleia. 15 seconds... 20... 25... finally! [that's several terabytes of data transferring from a TL13 computer]

Ortance pockets the datacrystal and nips out of the chief's office, nearly running into Nirsiin, one of the receptionists [d6=f, d6=1 term], on her way to the kitchen with a handful of dirty dishes.

"Watch where you're going! Enri left half a cup of tiluu nectar on his desk and I don't want to drop it on the carpet or the smell will never go away."

[Ortance needs to roll SOC or less to keep it breezy (9-): 2D=10]

"Nectar? OK! Sorry, I really need to get home. For the weekend. For my plans. That I made."

Ortance doesn't wait for a response, but scurries off toward her office.

"Sure," mutters Nirsiin. "Fuck you very much, I guess."

"What was that?" calls Ortance over her shoulder.

"I said, 'have a great weekend!'" [reaction roll=6]

[Q: Does Ortance make it as far as the lift without further incident? 50/50 (4+): O5 C3 - yes, but...]

Throwing on her coat, Ortance walks speedily across the office. She glimpses Nirsiin talking to the chief by the kitchen, then hurries into the lift.

The security guard is on the commo as she is walking past the front desk. She quickens her pace as she steps out into the street.

The crowds are thinning out, as all sensible workers have already left Gahaskil business district to start their weekends. The street lights set in the level-D skyceiling have already dimmed to 'night' mode, which after 12 years Ortance still finds somewhat pointless, but then, she grew up on a planet (OK, a moon) where cities were mostly on the surface. So what does she know?

Right now, she knows that the security guard has followed her outside and is calling after her. Pretend not to hear. Head for the nearest group of people and try to get lost in the dwindling crowd.

[She needs to roll Streetwise 8+ to pull this off: 2D+1=10, OK]

The ambient hum of traffic, voices, and air recyclers makes it impossible to hear if she's being followed, but as she doesn't hear her name being shouted any more, she can assume she's lost them. She passes the maglev station, and vaguely follows the line overground for 800m to the next station before hopping the train back to her district.

[Q: Anyone obviously watching her flat? unknown d6=2; O6 C5 - yes
Q: Corporate security? 50/50 (4+): O3 C5 - no (=police)
Q: Are they uniformed? likely (3+): O6 C5 - yes

rolling encounter range : 2D=Very Long (probably too far for a residential street in an enclosed city, so dropping it to Long, ~60m]

Thanks to a good salary on top of corporate-subsidised housing, Ortance lives in one of the "undercity neighbourhoods". Tower blocks rise up almost to the artificial cavern's dome, where sunlights shine down to create the cycles of 'day' and 'night' in accordance with the 24-hour standard planetary clock. Between the residences are shops, parks, and recreation facilities. The truly wealthy live on the surface with ocean views out their windows, but Ortance has always been content with looking down on Gushdikaar park when it's lit up at night.

But the lights that catch her eye now belong to the police air/rafts outside the entrance to her building. She turns down a side street and keeps walking whilst considering her options. If the police are already onto her, it might mean they're going to start tracking her movements. They might even freeze her bank account. At least, that's what they do on all the crime shows she used to watch on Regina. And those were made all over the Marches.

She goes to the nearest shopping complex and withdraws cash up to daily limit: [1d6=] cr600. Then she goes to one of those discount clothing stores -- the kind from which she normally wouldn't deign to buy socks -- and purchases a casual, nondescript outfit off the rack (-cr50), including a floppy hat (fashionable back in 1103 -- ugh!) to hide her hair. She's kept it in the same blonde crown braid since she got her last employee identicard photo taken 4 years ago, mostly since it doesn't get messed up when she has to don a full protective suit to go into the clean room or the cryo-lab. She changes in a public toilet (again, ugh!) and walks the entire length of the shopping complex to where it opens into the next undercity neighbourhood over and looks for a somewhere to go where she can hide in a crowd. She tries to come up with a plan for survival whilst she walks.

"Right, I've go to know someone who will let me hide out at theirs whilst I think of a way out of this disaster..."

[I decided there should be three people from amongst her acquaintance that she might consider approaching for help. I rolled them on the Patron tables, but absurd results counted as mundane jobs instead. Then I rolled on the SOLO PC Relationship Table to see how they fit into Ortance's life

NPCs
1) hijacker bar staff, human female
2) speculator, solomani female
3) rumour shop assistant, human female

relationships
1) loner
2) dependent on PC's support (but it's all an act)
3) broke up over differences]

"Hmmm," muses Ortance, "I could call Tirrins... but she hates people in her space, so probably wouldn't want me to stay over. Maybe Ianice... no, she'd make this all about her, somehow. and possibly try to sell me on one of her naff schemes. Or I could look up Amlaani... she's probably not still bitter..."

She doesn't think the police would be able to track the location of her personal commo if she uses it to call Amlaani -- not just yet, at any rate -- but just in case she makes the call from a public terminal.

[Q: Any luck? 50/50 (4+): O4 C3 - no, but... can only leave a message
Q: Does she call back? unknown d6=4: O6 C6 - yes. after 1d6-1=4 hours
+Event: PC negative - Communicate / The public]

Amlaani's comm must be set to private as it goes straight to her voicemail, so all she can do is mumble, "Hi. It's Ortance. Call me when you get this. Please."

She is sat in a gloomy dive bar nursing something bitter when her communicator finally goes off. It's Amlaani! she abandons her drink and goes out into the street to take the call -- the street noise is much quieter than the piped music.

[Reaction=10, responsive]

"Hiya, Ortance. Got your call. I was just thinking about you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Saw your face on the news."

"Oh. Shit."

"I'm guessing you weren't just looking me up out of overwhelming nostalgia--"

"Ummm--"

"Or the burning desire to finally admit it was 70% your fault--"

"Amlaani, I--"

"Prolly not though. And this is more a face-to-face discussion than over the comm."

"Yeah."

"Where are you?"

"Um, just walking around. Maybe we can meet somewhere. Fancy a late dinner? We could meet at that place that Ishidadiin had her 30th."

"You mean, the one where we first met? Are you sure this isn't just nostalgia."

Ortance sighs. "Sadly, no. But, hey, I can be there in about half an hour. 40 minutes tops."

"I'll get us a table."

[Q: Any issues getting there? unlikely (5+): O5 C3 - yes, but... =random encounter]

It's only two districts over, but Ortance doesn't dare take public transit, but instead walks through streets and lesser corridors and finally the last kilometre along the moving pavement.

The restaurant is in the theatre district, which is also the bar district once all the performances have let out, which they have by now -- it's already 00:30.

Threading her way through the jovial crowds, Ortance jumps when she feels a hand clamp firmly on her shoulder from behind. The police!


next post: dramatic entanglements!

A random start to get over a creative slump

It's been a while since I posted anything here. Life was alternately busy and full of studies, and failing that I've had a long spell of writer's block. I've also been bouncing from game to game without making much progress, and playing through lots of published solo adventures (DSA, T&T, and Dragon Warriors) which I never record. Lately I couldn't seem to stick with the same game for 4 days running, and felt creatively blocked on top of that.

Poking at an established but stalled campaign and getting nowhere is particularly dispiriting, so I decided it would be best to try something new. I thought that it might be a fun experiment to generate a character completely at random, start them off in a random situation, and see what came of it (minor spoiler: it worked; my notes file was at ~6100 words when I started writing this up).

But what game to choose? Throwing money at a new game that might fail to spark was off the table, so instead I turned to what I had on my shelves already. Any game without (mostly) random character generation was automatically out, which cut down my options considerably. I wanted something that had lifepath-type character generation, so, to make a long story short, I eventually went with classic Traveller.

(Almost) completely random character creation

To keep things simple (and get playing faster) I decided to stick to just the Traveller Book and the Third Imperium setting -- starting in the Regina subsector as detailed in the back of the book.

The first order of business was assigning a homeworld. I did my usual trick of rolling a d8 & d10 on the subsector map. If a blank hex or Red zone is indicated, the homeworld is the one with the highest population out of the nearest surrounding systems. The dice gave me hex 0409, a blank. Regina (pop8) is bigger than both Hefry (4) and Yori (7), so my new PC grew up on the subsector capital.

Regina A788899-A Ri

I usually make a bunch of characters at once and the most interesting one(s) tend to become the stars of the show. For the purposes of this experiment, though, I was going to roll up only one, so they needed to be cogent enough to carry the story. I rolled stats in order (B97789, off to a good start!), and swapped the highest into Intelligence, but after that I let all the dice fall as they may.

Initial UPP is thus: 797B89

For non-Traveller players: The Universal Personality Profile (UPP) is a 6-digit hexadecimal sequence (A=10, B=11, etc.) that gives the PC's attributes in the order below. Attributes are rolled on 2d6, 7 being human average. Humans can potentially have a max of 15 with increases through character creation (or later training). If you want to see the rules, the Facsimile Edition is free on Drivethru (at the time of writing); it's the same ruleset I'm using, minus the brief sketch of the setting & adventures.

My PC's beginning stats are--

Strength        7 (average)
Dexterity       9 (good)
Endurance       7 (average)
Intelligence   11 (exceptional)
Education       8 (can use all the skill tables)
Social Standing 9 (posh)

At this point, a fledgeling PC is 18 years old with a universe of possibilities before them. Or in this case, with a subsector's worth.

I made my character in the order I usually do (homeworld, stats, career, mustering out, life events, gender, ~ethnicity, name) and then analysed the results to put together a biography. I'll run through this term by term to illustrate how it all fit together. But here's a picture of the raw character generation steps, if you can read my handwriting:

To tell the story of my new PC's history, it makes sense to engage in some chargen hysteron proteron and give them an identity first. I rolled a d6 to determine their rough ethnic background: 1 solomani, 2-5 imperial human, 6 vilani. This far away from both Terra and Vland, the only real effect is of this roll is to give me a schema for naming them.

1d6=solomani. Another die roll decided my PC is female. Given those two data points, the first thing that popped into mind for a name was Hortense, after a random minor character in the French novel I was reading. I changed the spelling (though not the pronunciation) to account for 3 millennia of linguistic drift and/or spelling reform. The surname will be created by just stringing some syllables together that sound plausibly like a name that could have originated on Earth but which either doesn't mean anything in particular or is at least not absurd/obscene/embarrassing; I tend to Google these things to be safe!

So, what does young Ms. Ortance Staalazingen want to be when she grows up? A d6 tells me she wants to be a scout. I was hoping for something different, as I frequently play scouts, but then again, I don't usually have trouble finding stuff for them to do. And I committed to playing what I rolled, so off she goes to the IISS recruitment centre.

Enlistment

Ortance submits her application to the scout academy, brimming with hope. She has DM+1 for her high INT, but her STR of 7 affords no bonus. She'll be accepted on a total of 7+ : 2d6+1=4... failure! Her dreams of adventure are dashed against the rocks. She'd been sure she'd get in. She hasn't really known hardship up to this point, having been insulated from it her whole life. She's from a well-to-do family on a rather nice planet, after all. Whatever shall she do now?

The Draft

She's forced to submit to the draft. 1d6=6, Other. I take this to mean that there was no draft at the time (she turned 18 in 1089, so the 4th Frontier War ended 5 years prior). And none of the service recruiters really wanted her. At least, not the navy. She'd not apply to the army or marines, and the merchant service (probably a desk job at Tukera Lines) sounds a bit too much like being in trade.

Terms of Service

Cycling through the Other 'service' is a lot simpler than the others, as there is no Commission or Promotion, and only 1 skill per term after the first. Survival is easy (5+ with a +2 DM for INT 9 or better), and re-enlistment is similarly 5+ (no modifiers). I am using the optional rule where failed survival results in an injury instead of death. I will only be mentioning the survival & re-enlistment rolls that were interesting enough to tease bits of narrative out of. Ditto for the mustering out benefits.

I rolled 3 Life Events from the table in Zozer's Solo. Two of these made sense to put in her career path. The third one didn't go into her history; instead, it gave me the perfect idea for the first adventure!

Term 1

'Other' characters frequently end up looking like career criminals, but her two rolled skills were Jack of all Trades and Medical. I could have gone the mob doctor route, but the term 2 & 4 skills suggested a different path.

Ortance spends several weeks moping round the family home until her parents begin to fear she's not planning to leave. "You'd really ought to go to university, darling. We're certain it would be for the best. It's only, you're so awfully clever. 'Twould be a shame to let that go to waste." Mater and pater know someone on the admissions board, of course, so young Ortance is soon bundled off to the University of Regina. She casts about for direction a bit, taking whatever elective suits her fancy at a particular moment (JoT-1), but also finds a great interest in both sophontology, organic chemistry, and the biological sciences (Medical-1). She also gets up to the usual sorts of uni activities -- drinking, shagging, parties, zero-g lacrosse, and getting her heart broken at least once (Life Event: Fell in love, but your lover (d6=)turned against you).

Term 2

Poor spurned and humiliated Ortance wishes she could just fly off into the stars. And as fate would have it, an opportunity to do just that arises. Ortance secures a prestigious internship as a lab assistant with Luenvire BioMed LIC, a bio-technology corporation based out of Rhylanor. She doesn't look back as the Type-M subsidised liner (j-3) races out to Regina's 100d limit to begin the 3 week journey to Uakye (B439598–D Ni), one of the highest tech worlds in the Subsector.

[Uakye was of course also chosen at random: (d6) 1-3 Regina, 4 Research Station Beta (Yori), 5 random high-tech world (TL A+), 6 random Industrial world; d6=5]

Things went swimmingly at first. She soon learnt her way round the lab and got extensive training on the equipment: electron microscopes, cryo & radiation chambers, field emitters, filtration rigs, particle stasis regulators, and molecular disassemblers, just to name a few (Electronics-1). And when the internship ends, she finds that she has impressed her bosses so much that she is offered a permanent contract.

Everything goes well for the next 2.5 years, despite constant nagging project deadlines and excessive amounts of overtime, until a few weeks before her 25th birthday. Just what occurs she can't remember, nor has she much recollection about the days immediately preceding her waking up on a ventilator in hospital, covered in bruises and lacerations. Worse still, neither the police nor any of her colleagues at work (she'd hardly time for friends) are able to shed any light on the matter.

[Survival rolls are 5+, and she gets a +2DM for her INT, meaning she can only fail if the dice roll a natural 2. A roll of 3 this term barely scrapes by.

Life Event: Suffered amnesia, something bad happened to you but your memories are vague.]

She spends only a few days in hospital (of which one is spent unconscious under the influence of medical slow drug), but the constant panic attacks and night terrors keep her off work for about three months with a phased return thereafter. Luenvire take care of their valued employees, however, and a psychiatrist is appointed to treat her at no expense.

Term 3

Not even a string of hypno-therapy sessions (non-psionic, of course!) are able to reveal the events resulting in her hospitalisation. Her psychiatrist tells her to mind her stress levels and not to waste her entire youth slaving away in the lab, and Ortance takes the advice to heart. But she soon finds that the more interesting clubs on Uakye are in the seedier parts of the city (Streetwise-1), and she starts having to lie to her analyst about how she's spending her weekends. And evenings.

But she's still young and indestructible, so she can survive coming to work hungover. Or still drunk. Or with a makeup case full of powders and/or ampoules to help her through the day. Her performance at work noticeably suffers, and a disciplinary hearing or two convince her she needs to slow down (her re-enlistment roll was 5, the minimum needed for continuation).

She also begins to suspect her psychiatrist is spying on her for her bosses. And that it's somehow related to what happened, and they are purposefully keeping her ignorant. Paranoia gets the better of her, and she uses some of her less savoury new friends to acquire a pistol to keep in her flat for safety; she's not legally allowed to own a gun under Uakye's law level of 8 (rolled gun in mustering out benefits).

Term 4

The paranoia starts getting to her, so she decides to clean up her act, once again throwing herself into her work. She learns how to programme and run simulations (computer-1) and how to reset passcodes when her boss forgets his kid's birthdate. Again.

She's not going out dancing as often, and she'd stopped going to the company gym when the hot vilani from accounting got transferred back to Regina, so her physical fitness sees a slight decline (ageing: -1 STR). But not spending the bulk of her paycheck on booze is having a salubrious effect on both her liver and her bank account (mustering out benefit Cr10,000; made the ageing saving throw for Endurance).

She's beginning to feel like her life on Uakye is stagnating, though. Maybe it's time to move on (failed re-enlistment roll).

Mustering Out

The Other service has the worst benefits table of any of the standard careers (a roll of six nets you nothing!) and the most variable cash table. I almost never take more than one roll for cash except in very special circumstances (like when I rolled up a 5-term navy ensign with Social 12). Besides, if you roll multiple blade or gun benefits, you can convert some to skill levels. For this PC I went with 1 cash & 3 benefit rolls and got the following:

1. +1 INT
2. gun
3. -
4. cr10,000

As I mentioned earlier, the 3rd Life Event roll made for a better campaign start than part of her history, so I'll get to that in scene one of the adventure. This will be one of the few Traveller campaigns I haven't started off just using Travelling Alone!

Here is the final character sheet & character portrait I made with Heromachine:

Ortance Staalazingen
697C89   Age 34   Other  4 terms
JoT-1, Medical-1, Electronics-1, Streetwise-1, Computer-1
cr10,000
auto pistol


next post: space adventure!

Halloween

 I've written & translated my traditional halloween ghost story.

You can read it here (scroll down for English).

AFF solo - Part XXIII: The Skull of Ukhuttaz

Room 27
Challenge: Awareness (+1)

The next chamber is decorated with low reliefs; a welcome change from the sequence of bare walls they've traversed. The reliefs depict fairly standard scenes of city life: markets, processions of soldiers, livestock, etc. Ksandajja and Ilog insist on a thorough examination. Grebdal Themp is frankly bored by it, and would rather just take the corridor to the next room, but [Awareness roll succeeds] then he notices a single bit of inlaid metal glinting in the eye of a sacrificial bull. He presses it, and a section of wall slides open to reveal another passageway.


Room 23
Challenge: Encounter (-2)

Standing in the centre of the next chamber is the four-armed skeleton of an ogre or small giant, standing unaccountably between the three companions and an altar of pure white marble on the far wall. The creature holds a terrible, rusty scythe in each set of arms, and raises them high to strike down the hapless mortals who have disturbed its millennium of slumber. The THASSALOS advances upon them, eye sockets glowing green with unholy malice.

THASSALOS    SKILL 10    STAMINA 15

"Keep it busy," mutters Ksandajja. "I'll use my magic."

[Round 1]
Ilog and Grebdal Themp go forth to meet the monstrosity as Ksandajja lingers at the threshold. She produces the energy crystal from her pouch, and slowly lets the magic build within her.

Grebdal Themp opts for a defensive stance, and adroitly dodges every pass of the whirling blades [nat. 12]. Ilog opts to assault the fiend head-on, and takes a long jagged wound across the torso for his impetuosity [4-0 damage]. As he recoils from the blow, the thassalos emits radiant green rays from its eye sockets, enveloping the the warrior in their freezing effulgence [1 more damage leave him at 6 Stamina].

[Round 2]

Ksandajja focusses her will through the crystal, which is consumed as she unleashes a blast of crackling energy. The thassalos is caught full in the chest; shards of burnt and shattered bone rain over the battlefield. But though the cracked and limping thing be near to collapse, still it fights on with redoubled malignancy.

[She took an extra round to cast ZAP (for +2 to her casting check for 9-); the one-use energy crystal provided the 4 stamina for the spell. 3d6=13 damage leaves it with 2 Stamina.]

Grebdal Themp again opts solely for defence, but the furious skeletal colossus has learnt to anticipate his feints. A rusty blade cuts across Grebdal Themp's side, hampered somewhat by his stiff leather hauberk [4-1=3 damage, to 7 Stamina]. Ilog cannot find an opening for attack, and the thing's superior reach means he comes away with a gory gash across his shoulder [4-0=4 damage]. Another gout of green energy freezes the hapless warrior, nearly overcoming him [1 more damage drops him to 1 Stamina].

[Round 3]
Ksandajja moves in to join the fray, but cannot find an opening in the Thassalos' defence. Grebdal Themp tries to fight back, and receives a cut across the thigh [3-0 damage to 4 Stamina] for his effort. Ilog tries desperately to defend himself, but the scythe blade smashes past his shield and slices into his abdomen; the warrior falls senseless at its clacking feet into an ever-spreading puddle of his own blood [4-1=3 damage, to -2 Stamina]. The green ray shoots past where Ilog had stood, making a patch of frost on the stone floor [miss!].

[Rounds 4-5]
At last Grebdal Themp's blade strikes true -- but only a few chips of bone fly off from the thing's spine; the counterstrike nearly saws him in half [both down to 1 Stamina]. Ksandajja is frozen by the thing's baleful glare, and nearly has her arm taken off [3+1 damage, down t 2 Stamina] before finally felling the thassalos with a well-placed strike.

The bones are still skittering over the floor as they rush to the side of their fallen comrade. There is still life in him -- but swiftly ebbing! Grebdal Themp flips him over and Ksandajja hurriedly pours a healing elixir down his throat. All his wounds close up, and he opens his eyes. "I take it victory was ours?" he says.

Grebdal Themp drinks his own potion, whilst the sorceress must content herself with a tightly-wound bandage or two [G&I back to full Stamina; K gains +2 for first aid, up to 4.]. In contrast to her companions, Ksandajja still feels the pain of her wounds, but it is soon forgotten as she turns her attention to the marble altar, for upon it rests a gleaming human skull.

She leaps to her feet and rushes toward it.

"Be careful!" calls Grebdal Themp.

"I am!"

She is inwardly certain that no further trap would profane the holy altar with its eerie relic, so reaches out to claim her prize...

[Q: Is there a final trap? 50/50 (4+): O3 C1 - no, and...]

She lifts it from the altar, turns it over a few times in her hands, feeling it unexpectedly cold and dead. Then, realising it's incomplete, she roots round in her pack for the jawbone. She hold it in place, and feels it bond with the rest, held on by the centuries-old enchantment. The completed skull throbs almost imperceptibly beneath her fingers, and she knows instantly she holds a potent weapon against the undead.

[The Skull of Ukhuttaz - Banish Undead 1/day (as the wizard spell, but affects 100' radius; counts as the Disrupt battle magic spell in mass combat); the possessor may use any weapon to fight undead, even incorporeal ones.]

"Come," says the sorceress, "let's go destroy the phantom that killed Fhenteskeer."

[Q: Can they get out from here without incident? Likely (3+): O6 C8 - yes
Q: The hamakei wasn't trying to trick them, was it? Doubtful (6): O1 C7 - no.]

The little gremlin is flitting about impatiently as they at last emerge from the temple. "Come," it chitters, "back to my master's dwelling to rest!" As much as they burn with the desire to avenge their friend, the fire-priest, weariness and the promise of a proper meal propel them to follow the tiny creature to partake of the Hamakei's hospitality.

But the next morning sees them up with the dawn, trudging solemnly back to the ruined manse.

[Q: Any surprises? Likely (3+): O2 C6 - no]

The air inside is even less salubrious than before, the bitter incense being entirely overshadowed by the reek of decay. As they come into the circular atrium, they find Fhenteskeer's corpse lying next to the dead wizard's, already bloated and swarming with flies.

"Show yourself, coward!" calls Grebdal Themp with only half-feigned bravura. The SPECTRE meets his challenge with an inarticulate screech as its glowing form fades into view.

SPECTRE    SKILL 10    STAMINA 14

Ksandajja steps forth defiantly, brandishing the Skull above her head. The relic's potent enchantment roils round the chamber in an unseen tempest, felt even by the sorceress' magic-blind comrades.

[Banish: the target may roll SKILL to avoid, minus the MAGIC of the caster.
Skill 10 - Magic 5 = 5; 2d6=6]

The spectre is drawn howling into the Skull's gaping mouth and is no more.

Their foe annihilated, the companions' thoughts turn immediately to their fallen friend. Grebdal Themp is wracked by grief, so Ksandajja and Ilog bid him sit apart whilst they attend to the grim task. Chasing away the swarm of flies by beating their cloaks in the air proves futile, so in the end Ksandajja summons a sorcerous gout of fire to blast them all away. Then they divest poor Fhenteskeer of his pack and wrap him in a cloak.

Meanwhile Grebdal Themp has plucked up his courage to rifle the necromancer's laboratory. Ilog moves to stop him. "Something here killed the necromancer. Mayhap we should let our sorceress do the searching."

[Q: Are there dangers in the treasure? certain (2+): O2 C3 - yes, but... only the book
Ksandajja rolls against Second Sight (2d6=2!) and Magic Lore (6, succeeds)]

Ksandajja uses her witch's sight to examine the wizardly accoutrements. The tome is radiant with unsettling power, and she shivers each time she looks at it. She uses a wooden chair leg to close the tome, and wraps it in a blanket without letting it touch her skin. She volunteers to carry it so no one else has to.

But there is nothing else possessing even a slight dweomer, save for a beaded necklace worn by the necromancer's rotten corpse. Ksandajja beheads him with a stroke of her sword, and plucks the necklace off, wrapping it in a bit of linen until it can be washed. She pronounces the rest of the lot mundane, and her companions eagerly begin searching for valuables, though fruitlessly. The implements of the Art are serviceable rather than costly, the incense is too foul and cloying to be worth much, and everything else is made of cheap bronze, too bulky to be worth taking. But at least there are ample materials to construct a litter for Fhenteskeer's body, to spare him the final indignity of being dragged through the dust.

[Treasure was rolled on the AFF charts (p.A-142)--
coins +0: 2d6=4sp
treasure +4: 4d6=8gp worth of sundries
magic item +5: yes, necklace of survival 5 beads]

"We should send him off with his axe," says Ilog. "But his pack is too... befouled where it lay against him."

"But his elixirs," says Grebdal Themp. "here, let me... three potions, one for each of us. Let us take them, and swear a solemn oath to our own gods, and of course to mighty Filash, that we will use them to combat evil. It's what he would have wanted."

[Q: Anything happen for the rest of the day? 50/50 (4+): O3 C2 - no, and...]

Their several oaths sworn, the companions spend the rest of the day collecting wood from the ruined manor and surrounding buildings, and that night burn their comrade on a great pyre. Grebdal Themp stumbles through a half-remembered prayer to Filash that he's heard the priest often recite that it may speed his soul into the empyrean to stand beside the blazing throne of his lord.

next post: as one Quest ends...

AFF solo - Part XXII: 'We keep looking'

Room 20
Challenge: Evaluate separate from ENCOUNTER

The next chamber is darkness, so complete the lamplight can scarcely penetrate it. The companions are briefly excited to come to a chamber whose far side be further away than their lantern can reveal, but as they proceed into the space the darkness begins to abate. It reveals a chamber of similar dimensions to all the rest, with a dark figure in the centre. The figure is clad in heavy plate armour of blackened iron, bristling with hatefully pointed spikes. The CHAOS WARRIOR hefts his fearsome greatsword and hisses out a challenge in some unknown tongue.

CHAOS WARRIOR    SKILL 10    STAMINA 10

No quarter will be asked, nor given. The warrior leaps into the centre of his adversaries, swinging his sword in long arcs under which they must duck to keep their heads upon their shoulders. His overhand swings send up sparks and crack the floor where they strike. Swords bounce off the spiky armour, and Ilog's mace and chain can barely dent the surface. They strike in concert, ever more fiercely to match the rage of their foe, and the blows begin to tell. The Chaos Warrior slows and the hits against him become more frequent, eliciting more shrieks of inchoate rage and pain. At last he collapses in a heap. Ilog raises his morningstar above his head, and crashes it down on the awful helm of the prone warrior with both hands. Again and again he strikes, until the pool of blood on the black stone floor shews the foul knight to be truly, permanently vanquished.

[The fight took 7 rounds, and the Chaos Warrior didn't hit once. The PCs didn't roll super well either, and most of their hits were negated by armour.]

Grebdal Themp does not wish to watch Ilog making certain that their foe is definitively vanquished, so sets about examining his sword. The pommel is in the shape of a skull, with two small emeralds in the eye sockets. These he prises out and adds to his treasure pouch. [His Evaluate roll succeeded; the gems are worth worth 10gp each.]

Room 16
Challenge: Ancient Lore (-2) reveals Awareness if failed, then... Secret Signs

Another series of friezes greet the companions in the adjoining chamber. At first glance they all appear to be historical scenes from the city's past.

"Wait," says Ksandajja. "This part is all wrong." [her Ancient lore and Awareness rolls succeeded]

"It's a group of soldiers," says Ilog, "pointing at the enemy. Is that not to indicate a challenge."

"It is... but look at their armour. Look at those swords. They're all wrong for the period. And the crested helmets are the wrong shape. They look neo-Zarite, not ancient Anhassuulite. And these, if I'm not mistaken, are Thralxan cavalry. They'd not long since arrived from Johor when Anhassuul's might was at its apex. Now, these ones are proper Anhassuulite soldiers. And they're pointing back toward the entrance, not at the enemy."

"It's the same on both sides," says Grebdal Themp.

"We should turn back..." says Ilog.


Room 24
Challenge: ENCOUNTER obstructs Healing (-2)

They retrace their steps through the Chaos Warrior's chamber where another passage leads to a room occupied by a SKELETON WARRIOR clad in a corroded mail hauberk and wielding a rust-pitted yet still formidable battle axe.

SKELETON WARRIOR    SKILL 8    STAMINA 6

Battle is joined without a word from the grim companions or the grinning, silent skull. The skeleton warrior fights with the swiftness of its kind, but it proves no match for the living, and though its rusty armour is still the equal of many a blow, in less than half a minute it has been reduced to a pile of shattered bones.

Its only treasure is a healer's kit, nearly useless after so many years. Some unguent still remains, but no one is willing to risk using it.


Room 25
Challenge: Trap Knowledge (+2)

As they proceed to the next chamber, Grebdal Themp stops them short. "Look!" he says, "The walls are full of holes. And see round the edges of the door? I think it's just carved into the wall and painted." [He made his Trap Knowledge & subsequent Awareness rolls.]

They retreat to the skeleton warrior's chamber and take the other exit.


Room 28
Challenge: Acrobatics interlinked with Engineering

As they approach the next chamber, their lantern light glints off many lengths of chain suspended from the ceiling. When they reach the threshold, they find the room to have no floor -- or rather, it does have a floor, just three stories down. And set with iron spikes. The far wall is bare stone, but passages are visible in the centre of both side walls at the same height as the way in.

The chains are of thick links, forged from the same unknown metal used elsewhere in the temple, and each terminating in a larger ring. They seem at first to be distributed haphazardly about the room, but closer inspection shews them to be suspended in the tracks of some sort of mechanism on the ceiling. Ilog reaches out to grab the nearest one, and as he pulls it closer, all the other chains move as well, rattling along the looping track the same distance.

"This is how we're to get across, then," says the warrior pensively.

"Which way are we going?" asks Grebdal Themp.

"That one?" says Ilog, pointing at random.

"Let me go first," says Ksandajja. "And give me the lantern. If I fall, I should be able to use my magic to land safely."

[No one has either skill, so this is just tests of SKILL. They will only fall if they miss their roll by 2 or more; they keep rolling until they succeed or fall.]

Grebdal Themp starts to hands her the lamp, but she stops him. "Let me get underway first." She takes the ring from Ilog in both hands, then drops into the void. Her momentum sends her a little way along the track, and all the other chains clack along the same distance in various directions. Ksandajja hangs in space for a few moments, then must awkwardly swing herself back and forth, trying to shift her weight more in the direction she wishes to go. After a few tries, and a lo of lost ground, she get close enough to the doorway to accept the lantern from Grebdal Themp's outstretched hand. She hooks the lantern's handle under her thumb against the ring, and then begins the slow and laborious process of swinging jerkily along her track, until she can get close enough to reach the next ring with her free hand. She changes to the next ring with great care, but always swings out of control for a few seconds as her weight propels the new ring in an unexpected direction.

It takes fully ten minutes of swishing and clacking -- punctuated by some most unladylike turns of phrase -- before she has safely come to the other side. [SKILL 6; 2d6=4, success]

As they had hoped, Ksandajja's movement to an exit has moved another chain close to the entrance. Ilog whispers a prayer to the gods of his ancestors, and bravely tries to swing across. It's much harder than he'd expected -- not that the sorceress made it look easy! He seems to be moving sideways more than across. Did he reach for the wrong ring? Now he's going in circles. Maybe it's best if he go back to--

And then he is falling. Somehow he lands between two spikes, and rolls with the fall. He's going to have a bruise all up his left arm and across his ribs, but he feels remarkably whole. Perhaps the gods of his ancestors like to have their little japes from time to time. He calls up to his companions to let them know he's unhurt. [His SKILL is currently 5, so he elected to Test his LUCK (10), but rolled an 11... reducing his Luck to 9. He tries again, rolls a 12; to avoid damage in the fall, he must test Luck again at -2; he succeeds, but his current Luck is now 7.]

Grebdal Themp catches the nearest ring with some difficulty. His passage is no less ungainly than Ksandajja's, but at least he doesn't fall. Once he is safely in the passage, Ilog throws his rope up to his companions to pull him up.

Having all caught their breath, they proceed to the next chamber.


Room 29
Challenge: Challenge: Second Sight (+1) reveals Swim

The stone floor of the next room is but a small semicircular platform by the entrance, a few paces in diameter. The rest of the room is a deep pool filled with still, limpid water.

"Trial by air, now a trial by water?" says Grebdal Themp.

"Shhhh," scolds the sorceress, "I'm concentrating."

The water is clear, but in the flickering lantern light the bottom of the pool isn't visible. Ksandajja gazes upon it with her second sight. As her vision slides from this world to the next, the glare coming from something at the bottom of the pool momentarily blinds her. She steps back, hands over her eyes whilst her vision clears. [2nd sight +1=8: 2d6=3]

"What?! What is it?!" shriek her frightened companions.

Ksandajja looks up up at them with a broad smile. "There's powerful magic in there!" she beams as her loosened sword-belt slides to the floor with a thud.

"At least test the water first," admonishes Ilog, "if water it even be."

"I'm hoping it is," says Ksandajja, kicking off her sandal. "The air is so dry and stuffy in here. A bathe sounds heavenly right about now."

Having divested herself of all her equipment, the sorceress dips a toe into the water. She shivers at the cold, but as nothing untoward happens, she pronounces it safe. Taking only the gold backed mirror as protection, she leaps into the water near the edge, drenching her companions with an almighty splash. When she surfaces, she can barely suppress a giggle at the stern and not-at-all-amused countenances staring down at her. "Oh, it's really rather divine," she says, "honestly, you'd ought to try it! No? Fine. You've only yourselves to blame."

So saying, she takes the mirror in her teeth, and dives down into the chill depths. [Swim roll succeeds] The bottom is just an indistinct wall of blackness, but a small item still glows with an invisible radiance in her mind's eye.

Her companions can make out very little, now that the surface of the pool is awash with ripples and a great deal of murky sediment has been stirred up. After a breathless age, a hand breaks the surface of the water, clutching a human jawbone. Ksandajja's head and shoulders follow. The shine of the gold backed mirror in her teeth illuminates her triumph. But she only reluctantly climbs out of the pool.

"Where's the rest?" asks Grebdal Themp.

"We keep looking!"

Grebdal Themp and Ilog pause to partake of some provisions [+2 Stamina each] whilst the sorceress does her best to wring out her clothes and squeeze the water from her hair.

They go back to the chain room [Room 28]. Instead of swinging their way back to the other side, they instead use Ilog's rope and grappling iron to climb down to the bottom and walk across. Grebdal Themp slips and falls halfway down when trying to climb back out, but other than that they get through without incident. [His climb roll (at +2) was a critical failure. He had to Test his LUCK to avoid damage from the fall.]


next post: The Skull!

AFF solo - Part XXI: Tests and initiations

Room 7
Challenge: Second Sight makes easier Dodge

The passage beyond the door leads to a room suffused with radiance. White-hot arcs of pure energy shoot across the room at seemingly random intervals. The companions watch from the doorway, but can't detect any pattern. Ksandajja looks at it with her second sight, and sees the magic surge before the energy discharge. There's still no discernable pattern, but she surmises that there should be enough time between blasts to sprint to the passageway on the left-hand wall.

"Trust me?"

"You see more than we, I presume," says Ilog.

"Indeed. Now, when I say run, run........ RUN!"

They dash across the space into the passageway. Their momentum sees them fairly smack into the wall, and each other. The loud crackle behind them announces how close they came to feeling the fury of the uncanny energy blasts.

[Ksandajja made her Second Sight roll, giving all of them +2 on their Dodge rolls.]

Room 6
Challenge: Trap Knowledge (-2)

Having recovered their composure, they proceed into the next chamber, which is empty save for an immense octagonal podium of polished white marble. At first it seems empty, but the flickering torchlight reveals a metallic gleam in the centre. Looking closer, there is a tiny silver ring.

Grebdal Themp tries to lean over the podium without touching it in order to examine the ring at the centre.

[Q: What's the trap guarding? Oddly / Small
G's Trap Knowledge: 7+2-2=7; 2d6=7, success]

"This is too small to fit any of our fingers," he says, "but it must be important. Wait! There's a thread attached to it, nearly invisible, running all... the way... up..."

Ksandajja and Ilog follow his pointing finger to see a small cauldron suspended from the ceiling.

"I'm sure I can get it without setting off whatever trap that is. But just in case, maybe you two had ought to wait in the passageway."

[He will Test his LUCK to cut the thread without setting off the trap: 2d6=11, just!]

He very gingerly holds the thread in his fingers and cuts slowly between them with the very point of his dagger. Then abruptly he leaps back, though the cauldron above does not empty its contents over him. He brings the ring triumphantly over to his colleagues for a better look. It is far too tiny to wear; Ksandajja could not even get it past the first joint of her little finger. It has a series of unevenly-spaced raised bumps round the outside, and appears to be made of the same mysterious alloy as the trap door that led into the temple.

Grebdal Themp stows it carefully in coin purse, and they head back to the previous chamber. They are pleased to note that the energy balls have dissipated. They return to the room [10] where they'd fought the skeleton, and take the passage from there to the next chamber.


Room 9
Challenge: Ancient Lore separate from Awareness (-2) makes easier Evaluate

Low reliefs are carved directly into the black stone walls, painted with over with now-faded pigments. The sorceress makes a circuit of all four walls, and finds them to be be strangely secular depictions of events in the city after its founding, with the possible exception of the the building of the temple at its heart [her Ancient Lore succeeded].

Grebdal Themp feigns polite interest in Ksandajja's mumbled history lesson until his eyes are diverted by an unusual discolouration in the incised seal of the city [Awareness -2 succeeds]. The seal is bordered by black bands -- not from paint or stone, but tarnished silver inlays [Evaluate +2 succeeds]. He is on the verge of prising them out with his dagger when Ilog reminds him gently that they are not here to loot the temple. "Maybe on the way back..." mutters Grebdal Themp.

Room 8
Challenge: Awareness interlinked with Sleight of Hand (-1)

The carvings continue down one of passages out from the room. Ksandajja notes aloud that the tenor of the depictions has taken a decidedly more religious turn. The only break in the carvings is a metal slab, about the size and shape of the temple's doorways.

"There's no way I could shift this," says Ilog. "It looks like it's set into the floor."

"Bring the torch over this way," says Ksandajja. "There's a hole in the carvings."

Grebdal Themp holds his torch back so they can peer into the gap. It's about as big around as Ilog's forearm, and maybe as deep. At the back is a tiny round impression, the size and shape of the little ring they'd found. But dozens of minute, paper-thin blades line the entire length of the hole.

"I... I suppose my hands are the smallest..." says Ksandajja.

"No, let me," says Grebdal Themp. "This requires a certain sort of... finesse."

[He will Test his LUCK (currently 10) rather than relying on his capped SKILL (7-1=6); 2d6=5, success (current Luck decreases to 9).]

He balances the tiny ring on the tip of his middle finger, and slowly, ever so slowly, puts hand and arm into the razor-lined channel. Ksandajja jumps at a sudden loud snick, and is relieved to find it is merely the metal slab retracting into the floor. But there is still an age of silent trepidation as Grebdal Themp removes his arm from the deadly gap.


Room 5
Challenge: Trap Knowledge obstructs Evaluate

The room at the other end of the passage appears to be empty at first glance. As the mistrustful companions study it from the safety of the passage, they first note a set of stone steps leading downward. Then Grebdal Themp [Awareness roll natural 2!] points out the nearly invisible tripwires criss-crossing the whole chamber. Looking up, he sees the array of pendulum blades on the ceiling, poised to fall on the unsuspecting or incautious.

[Evaluate fails -- he doesn't see the pendulum blades are intricately worked and gilded.]

Room 15
Challenge: Herb Lore reveals Sleight of Hand separate from Religion Lore (-2)

The chamber at the bottom of the stair is of the exact same black stone and exact same dimensions as all the previous ones, leaving our heroes to marvel at the singularity of purpose displayed by the ancient architects. The walls are ringed with reliefs, each in 2' square sections bounded by dried, intertwined thorn branches.

[Herb Lore roll fails, so the section bounded by a different sort of vine isn't noticed. Religion Lore also fails, so no clues.]

Ksandajja studies the carvings until her friends grow impatient. Announcing her ignorance of any symbolism germane to their task, she leads them through the sole passage into the next chamber.

Room 14
Challenge: ENCOUNTER

A colossal, black stone statue of a nude man, fully half again as tall as mighty Ilog, stands in the centre of the room. The STONE GOLEM booms out a challenge in the city's forgotten tongue, then strides forth to do battle with the puny mortals before it. "Keep it off me for a few moments," says Ksandajja as she produces a gold backed mirror from the pouch at her belt.

STONE GOLEM    SKILL 8    STAMINA 11

[Round 1]
As the sorceress is murmuring words of occult import over the mirror, Ilog and Grebdal Themp rush forward to attack. The golem moves with greater alacrity than its lumbering form would suggest. It pushes their weapons aside with ease. Ilog takes a solid blow from a stone fist on the rim of his shield, knocking it back painfully into his shoulder and wrenching his wrist. Grebdal Themp receives a clumsy blow to the sternum, softened somewhat by his leather hauberk.

[The golem has 2 attacks, so they got n outnumbering bonus. Ilog took 4-1=3 damage (to 9 Stamina). Grebdal Themp took 3-1=2 (to 8). Ksandajja is casting her spell slowly, for a +2 to cast on round 2. KIN costs her 1 stamina to cast; the Golem fails its resistance. The spell lasts 7 rounds -- just enough.]

[Rounds 2-8]
Her incantation complete, Ksandajja flashes the mirror at the golem. An exact duplicate seems to spring from the out-thrust mirror, and stomps up to attack its twin. Ilog and Grebdal Themp give way as the two mighty colossi trade earth-jarring blows. Chips of stone fly as the giants pummel one another into powder. At length the original crumbles into a pile of jagged stones, and the copy fades into nothingness.


Room 18
Challenge: Locks (1d6: 1-2 south, 3-4 east, 5-6 both)

The golem's room is otherwise bare, as is the adjoining room, save for two heavy iron-banded doors. A quick examinations shews them both to be locked. Ksandajja is about to use her magic when Grebdal Themp intervenes. "At least let me try. Besides, you should save your strength for when it's truly needed." Ksandajja bows out of the way, as Grebdal Themp sets to work on one of the locks. Moments later (which seemed longer to him under his companions' watchful eyes) he sits back in triumph as the door swings gratingly inward. [2d6=6; he finally made a successful Locks roll!]


Room 19
Challenge: Languages if failed, then... Climb (-2) if failed, then... Religion Lore (-2)

The walls and floor of the room at the other end of the passage are awash with scintillating patterns which dance and play in the lantern light before the companions have reached the threshold. Only a small semi-circle of bare black stone at the entrance is free from the swirls of palm-sized coloured stones that make up the garish, undulating mosaic. Golden letters are inset along the curve of the black stone.

"Can you read the inscription?" asks Ilog.

Ksandajja studies the words, half thinking aloud. "It's ancient Allansian -- really ancient, not the classical language that usually gets taught. The letter forms are a bit idiosyncratic, too. [6+1+2(learned)=9; 2d6=9, success] Let me see... 'solis... in tesserulis... atris calcato'. We should only step on the black tiles. The dull black ones, that is -- not the shinier ones."

"What happens if we do?"

"Let's not find out."

[Each PC must Test their SKILL at +3 to get through. Ksandajja and Grebdal Themp make their rolls (needing 9-, 10-) easily. Ilog's current Skill has been reduced to 5, so he will Test his LUCK (10-) instead: 2d6=5, ok; Luck is now 9.

Had anyone stepped on the wrong kind of tile, it would have activated a mechanism which rapidly dropped the floor 50' down, causing no real damage, but making it hard to climb out.]

Ksandajja and Grebdal Themp bound gracefully from tile to tile, practically racing across the chamber to the other side. Ilog finds he cannot readily determine which of the black tiles are shiny and which dull. He trusts his fate to Sindla, and the goddess does smile upon the stalwart hero, for he too passes through the chamber without misstep.


next post: deeper still into the temple

AFF solo - Part XX: Temple of the Skull

The walls of the temple precinct are little more than mounds of toppled stone, but the long processional way is reasonably clear of rubble. At its end looms the temple, a squat stepped pyramid of rough black stone. with every measure pace the companions take towards it, it seems to grow bigger and more threatening.

"To what god or gods," says Ilog, almost in a whisper, " was this temple dedicated?"

"To the state god of Anhassuul," answers the learned sorceress, "for whom the city was named."

"And what sort of god was Anhassuul?" asks Grebdal Themp.

"Not so stern as Telak -- nor mild as Usrel."

[The entrance is (1d6): 1-2 top, 3-4 ground level, 5-6 below; d6=top]

They lapse back into silence as they make a circuit of the foundations. Not a single doorway nor a break in the stone is to be seen. They begin their careful ascent up the cyclopean pile on the shaded side, where the burning rays of Glatanka have not yet reached. When they get to the very top, the square platform is already hot to the touch, uncomfortable even through the soles of their boots.

[Q: Anything guarding the top? 50/50 (4+): O2 C3 - no., but...]

The platform is bare save for a heap of discoloured and gilded wood fragments in the centre, the remains of a gaily painted shrine. They push some of the fragments aside to reveal an ornate trapdoor of strange silvery metal, icy to the touch, and securely locked after all these centuries. The intricate, whorling patterns conceal the tiny keyhole and recessed handholds on either side.

Grebdal Themp makes a thorough search for any traps, but finds none. He set to work on the lock with the slender point of his knife, but after a few minutes of fumbling at it, stops to stare at it in resignation. [rolled Locks +1, but the -2 for improvised tools caused the failure.]

"Let me," says Ksandajja, and bends low to murmur a word of power over the keyhole. The bolt within slides open with a grating snick. [She cast DOP, for -2 Stamina (to 9)]

Ilog shivers as he puts his fingers into the handholds, then, muscles straining to the utmost, he hefts the trapdoor open and lets it drop against the stone platform with a heavy thud, followed by a barely audible brassy reverberation. [Strength 2 + Skill (currently) 5 =7: 2d6=5]

"Let's hope there's nothing bigger than this that needs moving," he jokes unconvincingly.

Stone steps lead down to into darkness. Grebdal Themp lights his lantern, and they descend.

[The temple has 3 levels, of 4, 9, and 16 rooms. I made the maps in advance, so I had the PCs move randomly (except when backtracking). The Skull is in 2 parts; unfortunately I forgot to record how I determined where they located, and don't remember exactly. I think I may have just inferred it from the nature/difficulty of the room contents. I played this part a while ago... sorry for the crap posting schedule.

For each room, I used my excel sheet (link) to generate 1-3 "skill challenges". I included monster Encounters in the mix so as not to have to make separate checks. Encounters were rolled on tables in the monster books (Out of the Pit, Beyond the Pit, Return to the Pit) ad libitum.]

Room 2
Challenge: ENCOUNTER separate from Sneaking (-2)

The chamber at the bottom of the stair is square, about twenty cubits (~10m) on a side, with the flat ceiling about half that height. The middle of the room is bare; there is in fact no ornamentation save for two empty, shallow alcoves on facing walls. There is but one doorway, on the wall opposite the stairs, and almost invisible as the bare black stone is hard to differentiate from the dark corridor beyond.

The chamber becomes suffused with a bright glow. Ksandajja shoots an unconscious glance towards the trapdoor, expecting to see a ray of sunlight streaming through, but the light has another source. Coalescing right before the passageway is the nude form of a man, floating above the floor and wreathed in uncanny energy. He becomes more solid as the brightness increases. The TEMPLE GUARDIAN moves into the room, calling out a challenge in an antique, forgotten tongue.

TEMPLE GUARDIAN   SKILL 9   STAMINA 10

Colourless energy crackles round the guardian and whips out at the companions, but they dodge each glowing lash. Their weapons pass through the centre as if through thick porridge, but each strike leaves the creature weaker, less substantial, and dimmer. At length it is reduced to a shimmering puddle of evaporating sparks.

[Temple Guardians can take any form, so I selected a random image file in my game folder. It's attack rolls were pathetic. There was also a 1-in-3 chance every round that the energy would burn each PC for 1 damage, but they all avoided it. They slew it in 2 rounds.]

The short exit corridor has a drum-like floor of scuffed bronze. Every footstep upon it resounds like thunder. Try as they might, the companions cannot move slowly or lightly enough to avoid making a clamour. [Sneaking -2; Grebdal Themp was the only one to succeed at his roll, but who could tell?]


Room 1
Challenge: Desert Lore (+2) if failed, then... Awareness separate from Religion Lore (-2)

The next chamber has the same dimensions as the first, but is much lighter. Low reliefs on what appears to be the ubiquitous local sandstone line all 4 walls. They depict a procession of priests and functionaries in some sort of procession. Each holds some sort of insignia or sceptre of office, and recessed into several of them are small golden keys or coin-sized tokens.

As her comrades are examining the reliefs, Ksandajja has a sudden flash of realisation. "Don't touch anything!" she exclaims. "This isn't harmless sandstone -- it's razor silicate from the Desert of Skulls. It'll shred your skin if you touch it, even through gloves. It's mildly toxic, too." [Desert Lore succeeded]

"A cunning test," says Ilog. "Which of these holds the right key, do you think? If any of them do."

"I confess I don't understand the imagery." [Religion Lore failed]

"Perhaps we'd ought to see if there's anything they fit first, and come back."


Room 3
Challenge: Magic Lore reveals Religion Lore (+2)

The next chamber is again the same dimensions as the first two. The walls are lined with sandstone (actual, not razor silicate) panels decorated with bas-reliefs, once brightly painted but now bearing scant traces of pigment. The scenes represent the city itself as seen from the top of the pyramid.

In the centre of the chamber is a low marble altar in the shape of a long table. Upon it, antique coins, bars of silver, and precious stones gleam in the lantern light. The altar is ringed by two concentric circles carved into the floor and filled in with copper. The space between the circles contains many glyphs and sigils, similarly inlaid.

[Magic lore is not a knowledge skill, but a Magical one, so uses MAG as a base instead of SKILL (and Ksandajja doesn't get her +2 bonus for the Learned talent). So MAG 5 + Magic Lore 1=6; 2d6=6, success. (I wrote this out mostly for my own benefit, as I keep having to check the rulebook.)

Q: What does her Magic Lore reveal? Positively / Lethal]

"I've seen these figures before, in a book, says Ksandajja. "They're very ancient, dating from the invention of writing in the Time of Heroes. They seem to all be repeating variations on a theme."

"You can read them," asks Ilog. "What do they say?"

"Death blast."

"Of course they do."

"But there are symbols of protection and blessing round the edge. I think whoever put this here was trying to keep the altar from being defiled by malefactors. Anyone leaving an offering should be unharmed." [Religion Lore, 9+2=11, 2d6=5, success]

"Even so..." begins Ilog, "call me a primitive ancestor worshipper, but I can't help feeling it would be somehow sacrilegious to make an offering to a god I'd only just heard of an hour ago."

"There's wisdom in your words, as ever."

"Perhaps," offers Grebdal Themp, "we'd ought to keep our looting here to a minimum."


Room 4
Challenge: Desert Lore (-3) or Secret Signs

The floor of the next chamber is a series of irregular, painted zigzag patterns, each a slightly different colour. Ksandajja stops short of steeping inside, preferring to examine them from the relative safety of the corridor. She finds that small notches have been cut into the floor where each jagged line begins.

[Secret Signs 6+2=8; 2d6=4, success (that would also have been a successful Desert Lore roll)]

"Look, it's more razor silicate."

"Where?" asks Grebdal Themp.

"The whole of the floor, except for this dark greenish stripe. See these rough hieroglyphs scratched on it? They read 'Path of the Faithful', or something like that. Only walk on this one."

The uneven path leads to a gaping hole in the floor -- a black stone staircase leading down.


Room 13
Challenge: Healing separate from Locks obstructs Second Sight

If they were expecting the second level to be different than the first, the companions would be sorely disappointed, for the chamber below is built to an all-too-familiar plan.

Other than the exposed staircase along one wall, the room contains only a low stone table, similar in proportions to the gold-heaped altar. Upon it are six low bowls of fired clay in a row, three on either side of an iron-plated box. Each bowl is filled with chalky purple powder.

Ksandajja and Ilog examine the powder, holding their breath lest they send up clouds of the stuff. After a time, each looks at the other and shrugs in resignation. [Healing rolls failed; neither realises the dust is a counter-agent to razor silicate toxin.]

[Q: Can Grebdal Themp resist the box? 50/50 (4+): O5 C3 - yes, but...]

Meanwhile Grebdal Themp is entranced by the box, weighing the odds of forcing the lock or finding something to pick it with, until his companions drag him bodily away, reminding him of the dangers of looting such a place.

The chamber has two exits, one in the centre of a bare wall, the other on the wall with the staircase, passing under it.


Room 10
Challenge: Evaluate separate from ENCOUNTER obstructs Locks (-2)

The passage beneath the staircase leads to a bitterly fragrant chamber, but the companions scarcely notice the odour as their attention is arrested by the armoured skeleton standing in the chamber's centre. It wears a corroded chain byrnie, and holds a heavy steel sword. Its shield has been defaced so that no device is visible. An iron crown has been bolted to the bare skull.

The SKELETON KING rouses from his millennia of silent reverie to test the latest aspirants in the temple.

SKELETON KING   SKILL 9   STAMINA 7

[Round 1]
With blazing points of light in hollow eye sockets, the skeletal monstrosity charges into the midst of its foes. At first, it seems a canny combatant; Grebdal Themp's every strike rebounds off its dented shield. Ksandajja's sword clashes with the skeleton's rusty blade. It catches in the guard, and as Ksandajja fights not to lose her grip on her own sword, she leaves herself open to its riposte, and comes away with a bloody gash in her shoulder [4 damage puts her at 5 Stamina]. Ilog's morning star whirls round and connects solidly. Flecks of rust fly from its mailed torso, but with no great effect [3-3=0 damage].

[Round 2]
Then the creature makes a mistake, pausing to gloat over the pathetic mortals' feeble attempts at martial prowess [fumble - expose weak spot (no armour roll)]. Two swords plunge through the corroded armour, snapping ribs like twigs [1 damage each] and a morning star cracks the skull in twain [4 damage] -- only the iron crown keeps it from splintering to pieces.

[Round 3]
It does not recover, and as twinned swords lop off an arm and leg, it collapses into a heap of bones and rusted links.

As Ilog and Grebdal Themp examine a table laden with clay pottery, Ksandajja attends to her wound -- and takes the opportunity to scarf down some provisions whilst no one can look at her judgementally for it.

[Grebdal Themp needs to make an Evaluate roll to find the treasure amongst all the other items: Evaluate 7+1=8; 2d6=7, success.
Q: What is the treasure? Miserably / Smelly]

The clay vessels are filled with sundry items: pine cones, dried leaves, powders, pebbles, cones of incense -- it is these last which give the room its acerbic fragrance. Grebdal Themp chances to sniff a few of them. Amongst the commonplace sandalwood and sorrel, he finds [2d6=] nine made of blackthorn bark, something he'd not expected to find in a desert so far away from the Old World.

"Phaugh!" says Ilog, "are those the ones making that awful stench?"

"I fear so. But they're worth a fair few gold coins."

"I thought we weren't looting..."

"What if we need them in here? For... some sort of magic..."

"Fine. But you're carrying them."

[The cones are worth 2d6gp each to right buyer.]

Meanwhile, Ksandajja has taken to examining the set of ornate bronze doors on the far side of the chamber. She senses no magic upon them, and so tests them gently, to find they are locked fast.

Her companions soon join her, and Grebdal Themp sets about trying to open the lock, though after a few moments of prodding it announces it's far beyond his paltry abilities [he rolled a natural 12, auto-failure].

"There's a passageway we haven't tried," he offers.

"No, let me," says Ksandajja, and whispers a magic word into the lock. The lock clicks into place and the doors swing noiselessly open.

[She recovered 4 Stamina for binding her wound and eating a provision. Casting DOP cost 2, so she's at 7 Stamina.]


next post: deeper into the temple