ItO solo - Part VIII : The streets beneath

An uneven slope leads up to a wide passage paved with cobblestones -- an ancient, sunken street. On either side are the decaying façades of shops and town houses, some completely filled with rubble, others offering cramped passages through their heaps of fallen stones and shattered timbers. The sky above is a mixture of bare rock, compressed soil, and the newer foundations of the City above. "According to the book I read," says Athalie, "this borough was built on the ruins of a prior settlement, whose inhabitants were slaughtered and eaten by Bastionites of ages past."

"Did it mention why it smells worse down here than the sewer?" asks Bassianus.

"I can't smell a thing," says Mortine. "the cold and damp are making my nose run."


T1 : random - none - expected
Location: Peaceful, Abandoned

The street ends abruptly, as ancient collapse renders it impassable. The explorers proceed through one of the buildings, evidently an old dwelling place. Rotten furnishings sag with age and damp, melting into carpets of fungus and slime. A hole in the back wall of a dank sitting room leads to...


T2 : expected - random - none
Encounter: sapient & armoured, cube, heat/melt matter

...a long straight path, 8' high and wide, and running off into the distance. The walls have been melted and scorched, but completely smoothed. The explorers take the path as far as they dare, until the temperature begins to rise and a smell of charred wood and stone reaches their nostrils. They look down a side passage to see a pulsing cube of white-hot metal slowly inching forward through rubble and stone.

[Q: Has it cut off their route? 50/50 (4+): O1 C3 - no, but... it currently blocks the path]

They cover the lantern and creep back a short distance down the square path to wait until they are sure the thing is well away. [2 encounter checks d6=4, nothing; d6=2, hear something nearby]

They wait for what seems a geological age, alone in the dark. Grating voices are heard echoing down one of the side passages. They come closer, then fade as the explorers let out their collectively held breath. When they surmise that the burning cube has advanced far enough down its new passage, they feel emboldened to pad hurriedly past the junction and scurry off on their way.

[For future reference--
Q: What is its motivation? final Perseverance = it just wants to get on with its work, so not dangerous unless prevented/provoked. It probably would have given them directions, had they asked...]

The passage leads them into a decaying town house.


T3 : expected - none - none

They leave the square passage, and clamber through damp chambers with exposed brickwork and puddles of brackish water. The exit one through a doorway (which seems novel, as they are mostly squeezing through gaps in the walls) onto a balcony overlooking a lower entrance. The once grand stairs have broken away and lie in a heap below, but the walkway seems solid.


T4 : expected - expected - expected

The door at the end of the balcony leads to a long gallery. Marble busts, unrecognisable beneath fungal growth, rest on evenly-spaced marble plinths along one wall. The chequered floor is coated in slime. The explorers progress slowly to avoid slipping.

At the end a doorway opens onto a stone staircase, cracked with age and subsidence, but otherwise intact. They follow it down, down, down...

T5 : known - random - random
encounter: shadow cloaked, sees future
random item: d%=audacious painting

...into an old vault. A heavy iron door still resists time and decay, but breaches in both side walls allow easy passage. The sole item left in the vault is an overlarge painting in a cheaply-gilded frame. It depicts a forest scene, with nude women reclining on the grass and playing in the sunlight, accompanied by a single clothed gentleman.

Bassianus spots the title on the brass plaque at the bottom of the frame. "ITAL Plein air, that doesn't say much."

"Hm," says Mortine. "It's signed Claude Lantier. Never heard of him. Do you suppose it's valuable?"

"It's far too big to carry out of here on speculation," says Athalie. "Plus it'd never fit in my flat."

Clutching Oracle
STR 14, 5 hp, 2 armour
Step from the shadows: Automatically surprises everyone but intended target (who gets normal DEX save)
Prophetic clutches: grab character and project visions of future defeats into their mind: WIL save allows 1 future re-roll of any die affecting character, failed save inflicts d6 WIL damage
Cowardly: flees if damaged (hp depleted)

Whilst they are considering the work by lantern light, a hunched, cloaked figure emerges from a shadowy hole in the wall and grabs [1d5=]Athalie by the wrist. She instinctively responds with a blow from her sword. The blade bites into the creature's shoulder, and wisps of smoke come from the bloodless wound. But the creature is affrighted, and disappears back the way it came. Isabeau shines her lantern into the crack, only to find it empty.

"I may not know much about art," says Bassianus, "but I know when to stop looking at it in case there are more monsters lurking about."

They hurry through the breach in the wall, leaving the painting for braver or more discerning explorers.

[Athalie (only) got a DEX save to avoid Surprise: d20=5, ok. She hit it for 6 damage, so it fled before its special ability had a chance to work.]

T6 : known - special - random
Special: barely there (expected)
random=Watery, Fuel

The breach leads into the basement of the next building over, with another hole leading out to a long, sunken street. It is mostly clear of detritus, save for the skeletal remains of prior explorers, picked clean of flesh and useful items. Or almost clean; [d4=] Mortine spots an intact glass flask amongst the jumbled phalanges of a headless array of bones. The label is still legible: fire oil. She uncorks the flask and hazards a sniff -- it still smells potent.

"May I keep this?" she asks.

"You found it, my dear," says Isabeau. "It's yours by right."


T7 : random - expected - expected (PP-6)
Location: Creepy, Majestic

They proceed along the street to an old theatre. The screech of the entrance door on rusting hinges causes a flurry of activity, as a pack of blind, featherless, and flightless pigeons scurry in all directions. Their white, cadaverous hides are pockmarked with disease, and they move like the man in the sphinx's riddle: on two legs, three, or four.

The carpet in the entry hall has been reduced to a soup of swampy fungal matter, which our nauseated heroes must traverse as they climb the steps to the upper level.

[STR saves are required; failure reduces HP to zero: only Athalie and Isabeau succeed.]

Bassianus and Mortine are overcome by the thick stench of rot and clouds of spores. Isabeau must take Bassianus' arm to support him up the stairs. Mortine is able to walk under her own power, but Athalie must carry her pig.

Up in the balcony, they look down to see the entire auditorium has been taken over by the fungoid growth. They pass through a row of decaying seats and out an exit onto the wrought iron fire stairs.


T8 : expected (PP-6) - none - none

The stairs spiral down into an empty alleyway. The brick walls towers above, leaning together to form a rough arch where the upper storeys have collapsed into one another.

The explorers pause in the (relatively) fresh air to recover from the choking fumes in the theatre. They sit on some of the less filthy pieces of rubble fallen from the buildings above. Bassianus takes a nip from his flask. Mortine strokes Chatterton and tells him what a good, brave pig he is. Isabeau has Athalie re-wind her clockwork hand.

[The short rest restores all HP, but d6=1 : random encounter
encounter: acid-dripping, towering biped, launch explosives]

Caustic Colossus
STR 18, DEX 4, WIL 4, 12 HP
Toxic fists (d10) or Acid Splash (d6 blast)

The far end of the alleyway grows darker, as a colossal silhouette appears to block the way out into the street. A terrible moan shocks the explorers out of their exhausted quietude. Bassianus is momentarily confused by the plodding shadowy form's appearance, but his companions leap to their feet, weapons at the ready [he failed his DEX save and is Surprised].

[Round 1]
Mortine hurls the flask of fire oil right before the creature. The glass shatters and spreads a flaming puddle before it, though the flames hardly touch the unseen creature [1 damage]. But it is unseen no more, for the flash of sudden flame reveals a hideous shape, a grossly humanoid thing of tumescent flesh the colour of an open sore.

Athalie and Isabeau discharge their pistols at the brute. The bullets thud into the pulpy rugose flesh of the creature, and it lets out a gurgling bellow of rage [5+1 damage drops it to 5hp].

The colossus raises its misshapen arms and a spray of caustic fluid spurts forth from the hollow stumps. Somehow the droplets of reeking yellow acid miss Isabeau completely, but her companions are caught to a greater or lesser degree.

[d6=4 targets, d5=I unaffected
A 2dmg to 8hp
B 2dmg to 5 STR (titan paste gone), d20= 12 crit
M 2dmg to 4 STR, 18=crit
pig 2dmg to 8 STR, 9=crit]

Athalie does her best to ignore the burning on her hand and face, but her companions are not so sanguine. Bassianus feels the last of the Might from the Titan Paste flee his limbs as the burning brings tears to his eyes and he falls a-weeping for pain. Mortine doubles over and collapses on the damp ground, and screams and screams and screams. Chatterton meets the rush of agony with porcine stoicism, then faints dead away.

[Round 2]
Athalie snatches up Bassianus' musket, shoulders it and fires on the beast. The ball tears a goodly chunk out of its shoulder [5 damage to 0hp], and though it howl and moan, it does not stop its advance. It stomps straight through the pool of burning oil [5 damage, down to 13 STR; d20=1, no crit] and lurches right for Athalie. It slams her with a dripping fist, but she fends off the blow as best she might with her chitinous hand, which has heretofore been exempt from the ravages of the toxic bile. The force of the blow fairly rattles her frame, however [7 damage leaves her at 1hp].

Meanwhile, Isabeau has dragged Mortine out of harm's way, and has endeavoured to quiet her down lest her screams attract more attention, though with limited success.

[Round 3]
Athalie flips the musket round in her grip and smashes the butt into the creature's midsection. Something squelches inside the creature, the forceful blow having dislodged something important; it falls leaking onto the wet ground [d6=6dmg to 7 STR, 9=crit].

[Q: Is the musket ruined? unlikely (5+): O5 C4 - yes, but... mechanism corroded, will become useless after a damage roll of 1 or 8]

A drop or two of spirits is enough to dull the pain of the caustic burns -- doubly so when the second drop is taken internally. Athalie cleans off Bassianus' musket as best she can, and apologises for misusing it. The mechanism seems to have been corroded somewhat by the acid, but after a few dry fires Bassianus pronounces it still serviceable.

Mortine ignores her own injuries to tend to Chatterton. The poor thing is displeased but submissive when she tries rubbing a little whisky on his burns to kill the infection, and it requires all of Isabeau's prodigious strength [STR 17] to hold him still so Mortine can get a slug down him. "He's really rather a snob about blends," she explains.

[short rest, HP back to full. d6=5, no encounters]

T9 : expected - random - random
encounter: stinking filth, obese biped
object: Lethal, Fortunate

Rested and reloaded, they emerge from the alley into another rubble-strewn street. They spot another of the horrid colossi stomping towards them from some distance away.

Mortine and Chatterton retreat to the alley as the others take careful aim and fire. Bullets rip through the swollen flesh, and seem merely to annoy it. [d6+d6+d8= 8 damage; it's down to 4hp]

The three fall back into the alley before it has a chance to spray them with toxin. They hide in doorways and behind rubble, hurriedly reloading. [DEX saves needed to finish in time: A&I make theirs.]

Bassianus is still fumbling with the ramrod when the thing comes into view. Athalie and Isabeau fire their pistols [d6+d6=10damage to 0hp, 12 STR, d20=crit]. The thing falls with a sickening squelch. Everyone hurries back out of the alleyway before the pool of frothy blood and oily toxin grows too big to leap over.

Athalie and Isabeau reload their pistols in the street as Bassianus stands guard. Mortine looks round, a trifle bored, then something shiny catches her eye. She takes Isabeau's lantern up from the ground and runs off before anyone's had time to scold her. A skeletal corpse of a more recent explorer is crumpled over a sagging bench. Its hand still grips a fine sabre [noble weapon, d8]. She uses her pen knife to snap the fingers off and admires the shining blade in the lamplight. Her companions are abruptly behind her. Their vulgar imprecations turn at once to coos of admiration when they see the treasure she's found.

The street ends abruptly in an impassible ruin. They find a hole bored by something leading into a shattered building off to the side. The roughly circular path leads out to an open area. Here a set of concrete steps lead to an upper story, and a makeshift bridge connects to the theatre's upper balcony.


T10 : special - none - random
special: return
Object: Travel, Fortunate

What's left of the ground floor is a maze of corridors. The explorers proceed down them without getting too turned round, and at last find a narrow stairwell leading down to a concrete platform. At the platform's end is a pump car on a rail which disappears into the darkness of a long straight passage.

"It's either this, or walk," says Bassianus.


T11 : expected - expected (-6PP) - expected

Indefatigable Isabeau operates the pump car at a modest speed, lest the track suddenly run out. Fortunately it does not, and several minutes later thy come to another platform, deserted save for the pale little vermin which scurry away from the hated lamplight.

A simple concrete corridor leads away from the platform. After several junctures, it ends in a doorway. An iron-clad door hangs by a single rusted hinge, and above the lintel a device is stamped into the frame. Scant flecks of paint still adhere to it, but despite age and neglect Athalie can make out the sequence of alchemical symbols. "This is it!" she exclaims. "Just like the lich's book said it would be." If she flushes at the memory of some of the steamier allusions in the dead wizard's description of the entrance, her companions fail to notice.

Isabeau gives the hanging door a good kick and it falls to the ground with a crash.


T12 : complete - expected - random
Object: Meaningful, Liquid

Once the dust is settled (and the coughing fits have subsided, and Isabeau's final apology has been issued) the explorers proceed into the sub-basement. The walls and floor are smooth concrete, save for the single wall of dressed stone where, according to the floor plan Bassianus tore from the library book, the old staircase is walled in. Shelves had been built into the far wall. These are mostly fallen away in a heap in the dust, but on the one that remains Bassianus spots a glass phial. Wiping the dust from it reveals a pink, bubbling liquid inside. He pockets it for now, as he's not desperate enough to sample an ancient wizard's forgotten potion just this moment.

The room is cramped, so much so that there is only room for one of them to work at a time. Athalie volunteers to start them off, and the others stay outside on the platform as she attacks the stones with the pickaxe they'd brought for the occasion.

[The digging will last long enough that three encounter checks must be made: 2,1,6. The 2 result would normally be sounds of a nearby encounter, but the noise obscures it totally. The encounter (1 result) occurs when (d4=)Bassianus is digging; all his attacks are Impaired until he catches his breath.

encounter: ceramic terror bird/reptile hybrid

Q: What does it want? Eternal Comforter]

The echoes of the pick striking the wall resound down the passageway, making conversation for the three waiting outside an impossibility. As one tires from the hard labour, their place is taken by another. Slowly but steadily the little sub-basement fills with rubble as a hole takes shape in the ancient stonework.

As Bassianus is having his go, the echo changes slightly, becoming more staccato. At first, sharp-eared Athalie puts it down to her poor, indolent companion's difficulty in wielding the weighty pickaxe, but she soon recognises a second, distinct pattern of sounds. She is rousing her bored friends to take up their arms as a curious being clacks into the limits of the lantern light.

The creature is a collection of white ceramic pipes in the rough outline of a four-legged terror bird. Tiny wing-like protuberances on each side of its body end in long, steely needles that flex as it clacks forward with a jittery equine gait.

"You are injured!" it rasps at tremendous volume.

"I...," stammers Mortine, lowering her sabre in consternation.

"And you also!" it rasps again.

Chatterton grunts assent

"I am also hurt," says Bassianus, emerging into the doorway.

"Prepare to receive treatment!" it screeches, agitating its wing needles.

"You know me," says Mortine, rolling up her sleeve. "I'll try anything once."

The ceramic terror bird drives a needle into her arm. Fsssst! goes the injection. Mortine shudders, then...

[The effects are (1d4): 1 +1 STR, 2 +1d4 STR, 3 +1d6 STR, 4 euthanasia (1d12 STR damage): +1d4]

...her injuries miraculously disappear; cuts heal without a scar, bruises fade, even the fingernail she'd bitten to the quick returns to a healthy length.

Bassianus goes next, and whilst the unknown medicine restores him to full health, yet does he lament the Titan Paste has completely worn off. Chatterton grunts as the needle pierces his hide, and whilst it does not cure all his ills, he seems happy enough, as pigs go. [M +3 to 7 (full), B +1 to 6 (full), pig +1 to 9 STR]

The creature clacks off into the darkness.


next post: creeping through the council fortress

ItO solo - Part VII : Sssssshhhhhhhhh!

The borough's public library is an imposing pile of weathered stone fronted by portico of ionic columns. Great steps flanked by recumbent stone lions lead up to the portico, rising some half a story above the street level.

The explorers pause before its grandeur, then slowly begin the climb.

"W-wait," says Isabeau as they are at the halfway point. "On second thought, I'd better not go in."

"Why shouldn't you?" asks Athalie.

"I still haven't returned, erm, the book I borrowed. It's well overdue."

"What book is it?"

"I'd, um, rather not say."

"Oh? Oh! Can I borrow it when you're done, then?"

"Of course!"

"I'll wait with you," offers Mortine. "I don't think they take kindly to pets."


Scene 3

Chaos: average (d10)

Setup: research

NPC List: the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain, scribe, Mortine

Threads: find lost entrance, investigate location

[Q: Do any of the PCs have overdue books and/or fines? 50/50 (4+): O5 C5 - yes (d3=Isabeau)
+EVENT: NPC action - scribe - I see the recumbent Flocks
=the Scribe is watching those outside the Fortress, and making a plan

Q: What is the librarian like? as the horrid Apparition to Brutus

(the reference is, of course, to Shakespeare (Julius Caesar (Act 4, Scene 3); but I mixed it up in my head with Iulia's ghost in Lucan's Pharsalia (who appeared to Pompey, not Brutus):

membra ducis; diri tum plena horroris imago
uisa caput maestum per hiantis Iulia terras
tollere et accenso furialis stare sepulchro.
                —Luc. 3.9-11

so I went with that.]

Athalie and Bassianus go directly to the cloakroom, for they must check their weapons and Arcana. From there they pass into the entry hall. The weight of the silence within is palpable, and they proceed slowly and carefully, lest their footsteps boom out in the stillness. They approach the enquiry desk. A librarian sits behind it, vengeful and terrifying; her eyes gleam in the dim light, boring into the new arrivals' souls as if cataloguing their deepest secrets. She has the mien of a Fury, ready to punish any transgression in this holy place. Good thing Isabeau waited outside.

Neither Bassianus nor Athalie want to disturb the librarian, so they instead go to the card catalogue.

[WIL saves: 11,7 both make them - each finds something useful.

Q: Does A need to go to the desk? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - yes, and... special collections
Q: Does B need to go to the desk? 50/50 (4+): O2 C0 - no, general stacks

Titles & authors to be rolled on my unfinished grimoire generator.]

Each finds something of interest, and notes the title and shelf mark on a piece of paper provided. The scratch of their pencils shatters the quiet, but at least no shushing ensues. Bassianus' discovery is in the general stacks, so he wordlessly goes off to find it. But Athalie wants to consult an item from the restricted stacks, and must meekly take her slip up to the counter. The librarian looks at it briefly, then indicates the special collections wing is found upstairs, pointing with a long, bony finger.

[A reaction roll is needed to view this item: WIL save d20=5, success]

The special collections librarian is much more helpful and much less terrifying than the one downstairs, but Athalie still notes the bulge of a pistol beneath her frock. And the item she wishes to view is not the sort of book one would should admit to reading, unless one were writing a scholarly treatise against such depravity. So Athalie must sit dans l'enfer de la bibliothèque to read it under the watchful eye of a sinister and disapproving invigilator.

The book in question is entitled The Abominable Truth, composed several decades ago by an ill-intentioned libertine. It discusses the psycho-geography of certain Bastion neighbourhoods, its style is a curious admixture of Sade's Philosophie dans le boudoir, Vitruvius' De architectura, and an A-to-Z.

[Q: Is it dangerous? likely (3+): O6 C4 - yes, but...
Her WIL save to avoid complications succeeds.]

She swoons at some of the steamier passages but does not faint, nor sigh, nor cry out. Besides, the invigilator's stare is practically burning holes in the back of her neck, which does put somewhat of a damper on her mood -- as well as reminding her not to turn the pages with her hideous claw.

meanwhile...

[Q: Does Bassianus have any problems finding the book? doubtful (6): O6 C8 - yes
Q: What? (1d6): 1 random encounter, 2 book lost, 3 currently checked out, 4 currently being read, 5 hard to find shelf, 6 roll 2d5: d6=random encounter

Encounter: Appetites of the Brute, d6=f]

Bassianus has been wandering the labyrinth of shelves, looking for the right section. He's nearly come to the right place when he spies a lovely young woman. She looks somewhat familiar. Perhaps he'd ought to say hello. He takes a few steps forward when it suddenly comes to him: she's the nice young lady whose flat he crept out of before she awoke in the morning just Tuesday last. And his footsteps have alerted her to his presence.

He is just able to slip back as she comes down the centre aisle [DEX save succeeds] and bury his face in a tall volume plucked at random from the shelf. Seeing no one of interest about, she soon wanders off towards the [Dewey decimal d1000=260] Social & Ecclesiastical Theology shelves. Fortunately, he's after Architecture [720s].

He finds the book he seeks, and repairs to an out-of-the way carrel to read it.

The Consolation of the Worlds is an obscure work, attributed to a pedantic lich. It describes in exhaustively detailed prose and verse the building of the old stronghold, which the author claimed would be greatly marvelled at by creatures both spiritual and corporeal, so much so that all strife would cease and a new golden age dawn. Bassianus leafs through paeans about window-sills and a mathematical analysis of the Perfection of the Cornices until he finds what it is he truly seeks, for in the midst of the chapter entitled 'The Sub-Basement, or A New Jerusalem', there is an engraved plate with a detailed floor plan. He surreptitiously tears this from the volume and stuffs it beneath his waistcoat.

[DEX save to not get caught, d20=9 ok

Q: Does anything happen to others outside? 50/50 (4+): O3 C5 - no
Q: Can they retrieve their expedition gear without incident? unlikely (5+): O2 C4 - no, but... minor problem
Q: What? worthy of all Observation - they are followed by agents of some unknown party. Adding The Tail to the NPC list, will strike at the appropriate moment]

When Athalie and Bassianus finally emerge from the library, they find Isabeau and Mortine have fallen asleep, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the steps, with Chatterton acting as a guard pig.


Scene 4

Chaos: out of control (d8)

Setup: d8=Interrupt (was: into the Underground)

Interrupt: PC negative - Bassianus - His Bounty is absolutely without Limits

[The library have detected the theft, and there will be trouble should he go back.]


Scene 5

Chaos: average (d10)

Setup: into the Underground

NPC List: the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain, scribe, Mortine, Tail

Threads: find lost entrance, investigate location

[Setting up the dungeon--

Oddpendium: Is there a link to the Underground? d%= an old well

Since Athalie's research was successful, the Random Location Crafting dungeon (Mythic Magazine #3) will be a Small Location. The Underground of Bastion is weird, so I rolled a d3 for type: d3=Palatial Dungeon.

Story descriptors: The source of a mystery; The place was brought to ruin by a calamity
Region descriptors: Crumbling, in ruins; Thick with plant life

Random encounters were inspired by the Weird Creature Inspiration tables (Nature, Form, Twist) in the Oddpendium. Stats were 3d6 with 2d6hp, except where the inspiration suggested a particularly high or low score. Attacks/Defences/Powers were created with an eye to making the encounters interesting to play beyond just simple attacks & damage. I will probably truncate some of the combats as a strict blow-by-blow can bog down a dungeon adventure.]

Athalie has led her companions to a deserted square surrounded by half-collapsed tenements, abandoned may years ago due to a localised typhus epidemic and subsequent hauntings. In the midst of the square is an old well, stopped by a heavy wooden cover held in place by stout iron chains. A placard nailed to the cover is so faded by time and the elements that the warning it most certainly bore is no longer legible -- nor is the obscene graffiti penned over it by long dead ne'er-do-wells.

Bassianus' crowbar makes short work of the rings securing the chains. Then with a mighty heave [STR 17!] Isabeau shoves the cover off onto the ground.

T0 : expected - random - expected

Inside is complete darkness; had any in Bastion ever seen the sun overhead, surely the shadows cast by the looming ruins about them in the square would still have hidden the well's depths from mortal eyes. Bassianus tosses a rusty nail down, and moments later it pings erratically off something hard, for the well has long since run dry.

Isabeau's lantern is lit and lowered slowly down the well at the end of a rope until it rests on the floor, some 50 feet below. Then begins a lively debate about who's going in first. Athalie is first to tire of the bickering, and peevishly -- I mean, bravely -- volunteers. The rope is secured to a nearby post. Athalie clambers over the side of the well, loops the rope about one foot, then slides down cautiously, holding the rope in her horrible claw and a loaded pistol in her free hand.

As the room below comes into view, Athalie can make out the rubbish-strewn floor, covered in dirt and other sediment. The chamber is squarish, with an alcove or passage at one end. Amongst the filth she spots movement, something long and rusted, like an iron serpent, begins to move with a terrible grating sound. Its tail beings to twitch, and Athalie's gaze traces fine wires extending from the tip of the tail to the ceiling above, where spindly metal arms with spade-like claws are reaching for her.

[Oddpendium Weird Creature Inspiration--
nature: rusted shell
form: snake
twist: grasps with extra limbs]

Rust Cobra
STR 11, DEX 10, WIL 9, 3 HP
Armour 1
catching claws (d8 or Grapple, STR save to escape on subsequent rounds)

[Round 1]
Athalie pauses her descent long enough to fire a shot at the iron serpent. The report is deafening. She sees the spark where the ball dents the flared metal cobra's hood, but does not hear it ricochet off onto the wall, nor the unprintable expletives hurled by her affrighted companions above. [She made a DEX save to avoid Surprise. Damage was 4-1(armour), dropping it to 0hp.]

Athalie lets go the rope, intent of dropping the last few feet into the chamber, but her feet never touch the ground, for the spindly arms catch her and hold her fast.

[Round 2]
More from fear than raw strength, Athalie throws off the claws that bind her. But moments later she is caught from behind by another creaking pair. [Her STR save succeeded. I gave the monster a 50/50 chance to attack normally or start another grapple]

Isabeau slides down rope with consummate grace [DEX save to descend safely in one round; she rolls a natural 1].

[Round 3]
Athalie is held fast [STR save fails] by the claws. Another pair is stabbing at Isabeau, but she's already bringing her sword down hard on the body of the creature. She leaves a huge dent in the side, and it ceases to function. [2-1 dmg to STR 10, d20=crit]

The arms go limp as soon as the snake stops moving. Athalie carefully disengages them from her person, then slides to the ground.

"The rest of you can come down now!" shouts Isabeau.

"You should tell the others to come down now that it's safe," says Athalie.

"I just did, dear heart."

"What?"

"Let's not use guns down here any more!" she shouts, pointing to Athalie's smoking pistol.

Mortine and Bassianus lower the pig down next, which is as absurd an event as Isabeau and Athalie have ever seen. They are still wiping tears of laughter from their eyes when their companions have both rejoined them. Mortine fails to see the humour, and whispers in Chatterton's ear to restore his normal porcine calm.

Isabeau takes the lamp. They all unlimber their hand weapons, and then squeeze through the gap at the end of the alcove.


next post: exploring the Underground 

ItO solo - Part VI : Star of the Night

"Who could be at my door at this ungodly hour of the morning?" thinks Isabeau through last night's fading haze of cheap wine and bad dreams. "Perhaps if I continue to lie here quietly they'll go away. Oh! they're not going away. The knocking's getting more insistent, if anything. Oh, very well..."

She throws back the covers and finds a robe on the floor. "I'm coming!" she shrieks as she retrieves her pistol from the night stand and hazards a glance at the clock. She opens her front door a crack and is relieved to find her visitor is but a tiny street waif.

"It's just gone half eleven," grates Isabeau at the wide-eyed child. "Have you no decency? What's this about."

"Aye 'ave a missige fer yoaw," says the waif in an exaggerated, fake cockney.

Isabeau snatches the sealed envelope away. "Off with you!"

The child's only response is an outstretched hand and a pleading whine. "Pleeze, Missus, myte aye 'ave a pinny fer sum bred."

Her response is to cock her pistol. The urchin runs off.

Isabeau shuts her door, rubs the sleep from her eyes, then breaks the seal on the envelope. A single folded sheet of paper is within, bearing a short missive, evidently dashed off in some haste. It must be urgent.

"Have heard of yr adventures. In dire need of brave souls to undertake task. Come to back room of address on front, bring yr associates.

yrs etc,

Councilman Montoni

P.S. Pls excuse this informal note. I have dashed it off in some haste to underscore its urgency."

She throws on some clothes and a wrap and heads straight to Athalie's flat.


Scene 1

Chaos: average (d10)

Setup: the summons

NPC List: the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain

Threads: the mission

[Q: Does anything untoward happen on the way to Athalie's? 50/50 (4+): O2 C2 - no, and...
+Event: Introduce a new NPC - romantic Visionary
Q: What does (d6=)she want? A Person may be chearful among his Friends]

But she's scarcely walked three blocks when she runs into an old friend sitting on the pavement and staring dejectedly down into a sewer grate. Her pet pig is tied to a lamp post nearby.

"Mortine! Why so mopey?"

"Oh, Isabeau! I am ever so lonely. I've nothing to do but sit here and watch the lights flickering down in the sewer."

"I... don't see any lights."

"They've stopped now. I think whoever was down there got eaten by something."

"I know the feeling... Look, my friends and I have been summoned for an important and, no doubt, dangerous mission. But you're welcome to tag along."

"I should love to! Come, Chatterton, we're going on an adventure."

[As she's joining the party, I rolled up a new character with the alternative equipment table in the Oddpendium.]

Mortine des Combres
STR 7, DEX 14, WIL 8, 2 HP
cricket bat (d6 B), glue, pig ("Chatterton")


When they are nearly to Athalie's flat, Mortine stops short, and a grave expression comes over her face.

"This is the edge of the Ghetto. Your friend lives here?"

"Yes, why?

"Perhaps I should wait here. I doubt she'd appreciate me bringing a pig into her flat."

"Ha ha! I don't think that will be a problem. Athalie may be « une affreuse juive », but wait until you meet her -- she's as treyf as they come!"

When they reach the flat block, they must climb five flights of rickety stairs to the very top. Mortine [STR 7] gives up halfway, and sits on the landing breathlessly whilst Isabeau continues up. She lets herself in with her own key, stumbles through the dark garret and pulls up a chair between Athalie's bed and the table bearing the empty bottles of last evening's debaucheries. And one last piece of cake, to which she helps herself.

"Time to wake up dear. We've been summoned."

"Summoned?" yawns Athalie. "By our Patron?"

"Worse -- the council. They sent a runner."

"Oh bugger off, my darling. I don't even live in your borough."

"It's a dangerous mission, my dear, and I need your help. Now, get out of bed you lush. It's time to go on an adventure!"

[Q: Any issues getting B? likely (3+): O2 C5 - no]

Fetching Bassianus is singularly uneventful. From his they proceed directly to the appointed meeting place. The Despair & Anchor is a quiet little pub frequented by clerks, bankers, solicitors, and others of that ilk; needless to say, our heroes never drink here. They ask at the bar, and the publican directs them to the back room.

The back room is a cozy affair, with old weaponry and skulls adorning the walls. A brazier burns with heady incense atop a claw-footed tripod, and behind it a moaning spirit is encased in a great bell jar. A man in an expensive suit sits in a wicker chair, a black cat perched atop his shoulder.

"Ah, Miss Isabeau, so good of you to come promptly," says the man without getting up, "and I see you've brought friends along. Allow me to make introductions. I am Councilman Montoni, Head Councillor pro tem. Here on my shoulder sits our treasurer, St Aubert."

The cat yowls something approximating a greeting.

"And in the bell jar is poor Ludovico. I'm afraid he was killed during the, ah, disturbance, but we were able to contain his etheric form here to maintain a quorum."

"Leeeeet meeeeeeee diiiiie," moans the spirit.

"Chin up, old chap, I'm sure once Miss Isabeau and her companions have solved this little conundrum of ours, you'll be allowed to pass on. And as to that: there is a schism in our council. Some of our members have formed a little cabal, and are trying to wrest power from the remainder of us. They are holed up in the council fortress, having sealed all the exits and windows with some sort of energy barrier. We've been trying to breach the outer defences with a hired cannon, but to no avail. If you and your associates can find a way in, you'll be rewarded with an Exemption on your council tax. You're very much in arrears, Miss."

"How many of your fellows are holed up inside?"

"There are [1d6=] five of them. Plus some servants, clerks, and the like."

"Five? I thought you had a quorum here."

"We do. The other three of us are supervising the soldiers. With the cannon."

"Can you tell us about the building?"

"It's listed, grade II, and very ancient. It was once home of a great wizard, or so it is said."

"Can you tell us anything else?"

"Not really, no."

. . .

Out in the street before the pub, Isabeau stops and addresses her companions.

"Well, that's worse than I expected. This is my mess. I'll understand if you don't want to come along."

"Oh, pish," scolds Bassianus. "You know we'd not desert you."

"Thanks ever, you two. Three, if I may count you, Mortine."

"Of course. But how shall we start? They gave us less than nothing to go on. They couldn't even offer a guess about how to break in to their own chambers."

"It's obvious where to go first," says Athalie.

"And where's that?"

"To the library!"

[I had no strong opinions on how to start the second adventure, so before starting the game I rolled on the Adventure Generator Tables in the d30 sandbox Companion to get some ideas. As usual, not all of the results got used, but it was good to have things to riff off as it progressed.

1d30--
Trigger: summoned by group
Goal: investigate location
Obstacle: find hidden/lost entrance
Location: stronghold
Loc. feature: gallery
Phenomena: disembodied voices
Villain goal/reason: domination/control
Artefact: necklace
Theme: darkness/night
Key NPC: scribe

To set the first scene, I asked the Oracle--

Q: Who are the group from the Trigger result? Ministers of a superior Order = a political cabal within the local council
Q: Whom do they contact? (1d4) 1 Athalie, 2 Bassianus, 3 Isabeau, 4 all at once: Isabeau
Q: Why exactly? penal Effects - she's behind in her council tax payments.

Here follow the PCs' updated character sheets, and new portraits to show them maturing with the rise in levels. The adventure continues below.]

Athalie
STR 13, DEX 14, WIL 17, 10 HP
pistol (d6), sword (d6), steel wire, scented candle, 8s
Ugly Mutation (crableg-claw d6, no fine manipulation, 2-h mêlée weapons Impaired)

Bassianus
STR 6*, DEX 11, WIL 7, 4 HP
musket (d8), hatchet (d6), crowbar, flashbang
Pain Idol
*currently at 11 due to the effects of Titan Paste

Isabeau
STR 17, DEX 10, WIL 10, 9 HP
pistol (d6), sword (d6), acid, animal repellent, antitoxin, 4s
Prosthetic Hand


Scene 2

Chaos: average (d10)

Setup: to the library!

NPC List: the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain, scribe, Mortine

Threads: find lost entrance, investigate location

[The Quickest Route across Town: d%=up the hill, then back down]

The library is just over the hill from the pub. Since everyone has already brought their gear with them, they set off straightaway.

[Q: What happens as they go up? Suppose every charitable Disposition - chuggers]

Chuggers
STR 8, DEX 12, WIL 8, 1hp
Driven to collect from all passers-by. Will attack unless the target signs their petition, incurring a debt of 1d100 shillings.
Truncheon (d6), Never check morale, Critical damage Impairs their attacks but does not cause unconsciousness

The mid-day crowds are not so dense as to impede movement for a change. But halfway up the hill, the explorers are greeted by a terrifying sight. About a dozen persons in smart clothing, all sporting the same bright yellow cap, are accosting all passers-by, clip-boards at the ready. Those who do not donate to their cause are swiftly beaten down by their wooden truncheons. Many try to flee, and some even fight back, but there is no single way past them up the hill.

"Everyone split up!" says Bassianus. "It will be easier to evade their clutches if we go singly. Now, move!"

[To manoeuvre past, each party member needs to make both a WIL save (finding a clear route) and a DEX save (dodging past). A 2,14 ok; B 15,15 fail; I13, 12 fail, M 2,3 ok]

Athalie winds through the throng, dashing past a slower pedestrian to leave them firmly in the sights of a descending clipboard. Mortine slaps Chatterton on the bottom, and sprints after her squealing pig. Having to leap out of the way of the beast unbalances several chuggers long enough that they can't catch her.

Bassianus is not so fortunate. [1d3=] A pair of crossed clipboards bar his way, as a pen is held out accusingly towards him. "Spare a coin for the victims of Tinea Pedis?" Isabeau is not far behind him, having been stopped by [1d3=] two more of the brutes, one of whom is even now telling her she has a kind face. A fight to the death ensues.

[Round 1]
Bassianus responds with his hatchet, splintering one of the clipboards and bloodying the hand carrying it [2 damage, critical (attacks now impaired)]. The chuggers belabour him with their truncheons [4+3dmg to 0hp, 7STR, no crit] but he does not fall.

Meanwhile Isabeau is locked in battle with the other pair. "Die, you fiend!" she screams as she thrusts her sword, but it is deftly parried by her opponent [1 damage]. "You have a really great style," comes the rejoinder. Their counter-attacks are largely ineffectual [1+3 damage, she's down to 5hp].

[Round 2]
Bassianus fears for his life. He takes the flashbang from his belt and throws it down before him. The chuggers are momentarily blinded, and he escapes in the chaos.

Isabeau nearly severs her first assailant's arm at the shoulder [6dmg to 4 STR, crit], but he only screams out in pain, "it's less than the price of a cup of coffee per week!" and, like his fellow, continues raining blows down upon her. Fortunately she receives only a few minor bruises, fending off the worst of it with her sword. [2+2=4dmg, 1hp left]

[Round 3]
Athalie sees Isabeau is in real trouble, and takes careful aim with her new pistol. The shot rigs out, and [5 damage to 1d2=] the injured chugger drops like a sack of pamphlets at Isabeau's feet. Isabeau lays into the other, who is bloodied but undaunted [5 dmg, no crit]. Isabeau stagers back under the furious assault, but parries every blow [1dmg to 0hp]. Bassianus unlimbers the musket from his back.

[Round 4]
Bassianus' ball speeds through the brain of Isabeau's last assailant [7 damage kills]. She scurries away whilst the rest of the chuggers are either still blinded or signing up other prey.

[Q: Any repercussions from fighting in the street? 50/50 (4+): O3 C0 - no (neither accolade nor reproach)
Q: What happens going down hill? silent Even or Morn]

Once again together, the little band crest the top of the hill and go down the other side. The street through which their route takes them is completely deserted. No lights in the windows, no pedestrians on the pavement nor carriages in the street -- not even rats in the gutter. Everywhere is stillness and silence. Unnerving, unnatural silence.

Their pace increases.

next post: from Library to Underground 

literary classics part 3 (of 3)

 

Flowers of Evil

literary classics part 2 (of 3)

 

literary classics part 1 (of 3)

I'm almost ready to start posting the next part of my Into the Odd adventures, but in the meantime I found the most excellent Penguin Classics Cover Generator, and, well...