Monday 25 September 2023

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

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