Spooky story for Halloween

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ItO solo - Part XI : The Star Being

"The Star Being... has... broken free!" gasps Zurzoria. "Those... fools thought they... could control it!"

"Sit down, my lady," says Ilmen, pushing a chair beneath her and then pouring a stiff brandy to calm her nerves.

"What is the Star being?" asks Bassianus once she is breathing normally again.

"Whatever horror you think the name implies is sufficient."

"How was it restrained?" asks Athalie.

"We, er, had it locked in a closet."

"Can we bind it again? Should we, even?"

[Q: Should they? 50/50 (4+): O2 C2 - No, and... ]

"No! And we should avoid it, whatever the cost. All who behold it have their souls stripped away by the cosmic winds. Now, you lot found a way in, so I assume you can find the way back out. Take me with you! Bring me back to the rest of the cabal, the ones on the outside. I have seen the error of my ways, and I have information to offer them which will be to their advantage." [scheming - agenda - family]

"What about me...?" mumbles Ilmen.

"Of course, you may come too. Are we all agreed?"

"But... my arrears..." moans Isabeau.

"Allow me to persuade them that whatever they may have initially asked for, circumstances have changed, and this discharges your obligation admirably."

"Let's go then!"

[+EVENT (from above): NPC negative - scribe - unavoidable Damnation : removing them from the NPC list...

Chaos increases now that the Star Being is loose.]


Scene 7

Chaos: madness (d6)

Setup: escape

NPC List: the Superior Order, PCs' patron, villain, Tail, Zurzoria, Ilmen, the Star Being

Threads: investigate location, get out alive


They go hurriedly out of the retreat and towards the stairs to the basement.

[encounter, major personage (d3): 1 villain, 2 star being, 3 other councillor: 2]

They are almost to the stairway door when the lift descends and the gates slide back to reveal the Star Being. It has merged with the corporeal form of one of the council secretaries, but its magnificent radiance is overwhelming. Blue-white light emanates from it in a blinding aura, and the roar of cosmic winds deafens all within its reach.

[Q: What does it do? But, when I take the Universe for my Standard, how scanty is their Size, how contemptible their Figure!]

It takes no notice of the cowed mortals, strides past without so much as acknowledging they exist. The blue fires of untold suns blaze in its eyes, and the tiny quivering mortal creatures avert their eyes quickly so as not to meet its gaze.

[DEX saves all round to avoid its gaze : Athalie & Ilmen fail theirs. Those who made it take a mere d6 WIL damage, Athalie & Ilmen take d12.

Bassianus 2 dmg to 5 WIL, Isabeau 2 to 8 WIL, Zurzoria 5 to 6 WIL.
Athalie 5dmg to 12, Ilmen takes 11, only had 9...

Q: What does Athalie glimpse? SUCH is the Moon; and such are all Sublunary Things]

Ilmen withers in the harsh light from beyond; his ashes blow away unseen in the astral gale.

For the barest moment, Athalie glimpses an image reflected in the Star being's eyes. She sees herself and her companions as the Star Being sees them: how pale, how insignificant, how limited, existing as they do in only 11 dimensions. And how transient, their whole lives written like lovers' promises on wind and water*. She even sees the footnote.

* Catullus 70: « ...sed mulier cupido quod dicit amanti / in vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua »

The Star Being does not break stride as it walks purposefully past, though Athalie can not be certain it did not nod knowingly in her direction -- a fraction of a fraction of a micrometre.

Just being touched by the aura surrounding the Star Being leaves the others with a sickening feeling, as if they'd just come off a week-long laudanum bender. But Athalie feels a mordant emptiness in her soul, as if part of her psyche were torn off and hurled amongst the cosmic winds.

A voice sounds in her ears, at once familiar and far-away. "Dearest? Dearest! Are you still amongst the living?"

Athalie stumbles over her words a few times before her tongue remembers the faculty of speech. "What?"

"I said, 'won't you please wind my hand again, dearest'. It's run down again, and I can't open my fingers to grab the lantern."

Athalie helps Isabeau with her clockwork hand as Bassianus relights her lantern. He hands it over, and Isabeau leads the way down the stairs.

The cellar level is dark and mostly empty. The explorers find a servant in the giant silkworms' vaulted chamber who is too drunk to notice them file past [4 Oracle questions to figure out this non-event deleted]. In the utensil room they find three more servants searching for weapons by candlelight.

"Let us pass," says Zurzoria. [Wil save=4, ok]

One curtsies, the other two grunt and go about their business. The explorers reach the stairs to the sub-basement without further incident.

"Where's Chatterton?" asks Athalie at the bottom of the stairwell.

"Gone!" exclaims Bassianus. "Probably stolen by a fleeing servant, I'll wager."

"Is it wrong of me to feel a little relieved?" asks Isabeau. "Only I wasn't sure how to tell him about Mortine."

[For the trip back, I'll be counting down the turns/areas from the Random Location Crafting. As usual, there's a 1-in-6 chance of encounters in each.]

[T12]

They file out of the hole they'd broken through the bricked-over wall at in the sub-basement, firearms readied. They look about furtively for signs of any one --or anything-- lurking in the dismal concrete tunnel.

[Athalie's WIL save succeeds, so...
Q: Any signs? unlikely (5+): O6 C6 - yes
+Event: NPC negative - the Superior Order (will wait until the PCs reach their location to figure out what happened)
Q: Signs: Waters drop, incessantly, from, the Eves =blood trail
Q: The way the PCs are going? 50/50 (4+): O3 C2 - no, and...]

"Look!" cries Athalie. "A trail of blood! It starts there on the steps and leads off that way."

"Which way are we going? asks Zurzoria

"T'other," says Bassianus.

"Well, good luck to whoever else got away!"

The explorers proceed back to the platform [T11], and Isabeau once again operates the pump car back to the basement of the ruined theatre [T10]. They then go up the rusting stairs [T10 Special] to the roof, through a trapdoor and down a ladder to the balcony [T7] out of theatre to the subterranean street [T6] where a terrible stench -- worse than the the ambient reek of the underground -- assails their nostrils. [encounter: stinking filth, bull, controls others]

A bull blocks their path. The creature stands proud and erect, and would cut a commanding figure were it not for the malodorous secretions matting its long shaggy coat into an oily tangle.

Athalie senses a glimmer of intelligence in its mien, and steps forward, intending to reason with it. [WIL save: d20= 18, fail]

"Please, gentle sir, we mean onl--"

The beast lowers its horns and springs at her.

Filth Bull
STR 14, DEX 6, WIL 8, 6 HP
driven to cause strife
Oily Horns: d10, next attack impaired from nausea
Sow Confusion: each round, a random target must make WIL save or turn on friends until bull dead (automatic power, functions even when unconscious)

[Round 1]
The explorers unload their guns into the stinking creature, and it falls in mid-charge. [2+6+3=11 damage, to 0hp 9STR: d20=14, crit]

But even as the fallen creature's ragged breathing seems about to fade, [d4=]Athalie feels a psychic force grasping at her mind. [WIL save=2, success] She steels herself against its control and shrieks, "it's not dead!"

[Round 2]
Swords and an axe are brought to bear against the helpless creature. They slash and chop and cleave until Athalie assures them the danger has passed. [damage 9+4+11 = dead (attacks are Enhanced against defenceless foes)]

They reload quickly, then continue lest any other beasties lurk in the open. [d6=5, nothing else attracted by gunfire] Back they go through the hole into the vault [T5], over the marble floor [T4], and along the balcony [T3] to the long curving room [T2], and thence through the rotten dwelling [T1], and finally down the grand hallway to the bottom of the well [T0].

[Q: Is their rope still there? doubtful (6): O3 C3 - yes, but...
+Event: Ambiguous event - Every Object, a little while ago, glared with Light]

The dull grey circle above indicates it is still daytime. But the rope seems to be missing. No, not missing -- some <unprintable> passer-by has untied it and thrown it down the well. At least, thinks Athalie, it wasn't stolen.

Isabeau breaks off a limb from the vanquished iron serpent which will readily answer for grappling hook, then they take turns throwing it up the well and trying to catch the edge.

Suddenly an intense blue light shines down the well for a moment, blinding them all. They feel the push at their souls, but fortunately the diffuse rays of the cosmic wind wash over them only briefly [no WIL damage].

"The Star Being!" gasps lady Belial. "He's escaped the stronghold!"

They wait an extra long time [2 more encounter checks' worth] before continuing with the grapple throwing. At last it catches firmly on the side of the well, and one by one they scale the rope up to street level. Not a soul stirs in the empty square, though the feeling of being watched is palpable. They hurry away into a more populated district.

"Now that we're out of that dreadful undercity," says Zurzoria, "I simply must ask: wherever are those reprobates -- I mean, my esteemed and worthy colleagues -- hiding out?"

"They've taken rooms at the Despair & Anchor," answers Isabeau.

"How déclassé! But come, let us make haste. Someone, hail that cab." [Fastest way across town: d%=horse carriage]

"I'm afraid we're a bit skint," admits Bassianus.

"Not to worry, I've plenty of dosh."

[Q: Do they get back without incident? likely (3+): O4 C4 - yes, but... takes longer than it should
+Event: PC negative - Isabeau - stung by the Serpent]

The inside of the coach smells faintly of sick, though the explorers cannot but wonder if its their clothing providing the odour; two trips through the underworld will do that. They are very certain that the cabbie is driving the long way round on purpose, but as they are feeling rather weary (two trips through the underworld will do that, too), they don't castigate the driver. And Lady Belial's paying for it, after all.

But what they have failed to notice is that a street snake had curled up in the back of the carriage, and was sleeping peacefully beneath the back seat all this time. And as Isabeau stands to (finally) exit the coach, she accidentally treads it underfoot, for which she is rewarded with a venomous bite [d12 poison: 6 to STR 11]. She kills the hapless creature with her sword, and Zurzoria spends the next 20 minutes remonstrating with the cabbie [her WIL save =2, success] who eventually refunds half the fare. Isabeau is still a bit wobbly when the cab drives off, but Athalie reminds her she's ingested worse of an evening, and they proceed arm-in-arm towards the public house.

[Q: So, what was the NPC Negative event that befell the renegade councillors (well above)? stand exposed to the reproachful indignities, of an insolent Rabble]

But a great and heaving throng has gathered in the square before it. And who should be in the stocks in the middle of the square but the very councillors they had come to see -- the human ones at least. Zurzoria goes in to the back room of the pub and is pleased to find Ludovico's trapped spirit and St Aubert, the cat, have been overlooked by the mob. Zurzoria shuts the door to confer with them in private, but returns a few scant minutes later.

"Well, this was a wasted trip," says Zurzoria.

"My arrears," whines Isabeau.

"Cheer up, my dear, whatever monies you may have owed are still within my power to strike from the record -- should the records still exist. I do hope the stronghold is at least somewhat intact, and there are some councillors still standing. Besides myself, that is."

"Oh. When you put it that way..."

"But come, let us repair to my residence for now. Tomorrow I shall send a messenger to the council chambers to see if any of them have survived."

~~ finis ~~

Dénouement

Having completed the adventure, the PCs are 1/3 of the way to the next level. They have time for a long rest, meaning all their Ability Scores are back to full, except perhaps for Bassianus' STR.

Bassianus was infected by the bite of the giant silkworm. Without treatment, he can't recover STR and will die in d4=3 weeks. I decided to ask the Oracle if he can be cured, but I decided all the interpretations in advance.

Oracle
result      Interpretation
------      --------------
no, and...  basically fucked
no          can try later
no, but...  opportunity during next adventure
yes, but... will have to trade Arcanum for it
yes         incurs  debt of 1d12x10 shillings
yes, and... remedy only costs 1s

Q: Can Bassianus find a cure for the infection? 50/50 (4+): O1 C4 - no, but...

At least, he has time to examine, and consume the contents of, the Mysterious Phial he'd found in the sub-basement: d%= insides feel cold, liquid metal coats bones - always have Armour 1.


next adventure: serving 1d4+1 masters

ItO solo - Part X : Whatever Madame requires

They wheel about to see a woman in a floofy ballgown descending the stairs above them. The gas lamps on the landing send shimmers across the satin and taffeta, and her intricate coiffeur is a-gleam with glass and metal ornaments of unguessable antiquity (i.e. last season). But most arresting are her eyes, hidden behind great crystal lenses which pulse and shimmer with a inner light. These last mark her indisputably as Lady Zurzoria Belial, one of the rogue councillors.

[Q: What is her immediate reaction? a Sample of his Beneficence]

"Well, this is unexpected!" she says. "Whoever can you be? And whatever are you doing here? And however did you get in?"

"Please, my Lady," says Athalie with an ungainly curtsey [DEX save d20=7, ok - doesn't fall down stairs], "don't be alarmed. We were sent."

"Sent? Whomever by?"

"By certain of your colleagues on the outside. They expressed some consternation at their inability to come in person, and tasked us with finding an entrance and reconnoitring the building, to report back on conditions within."

"I'm sure they were ever so worried about us! Or more likely, about whatever we're getting up to in their absence..."

"Well, indeed, I can't say their intentions are entirely altruistic..." [reaction - WIL save d20=4, ok]

"And perhaps I should welcome the, er, assistance they sent. For whatever differences of opinion divide us, I fear we've now a common foe. Perhaps I may be able to use you. Er, I mean, be of use to you." [friendly - aid - enemy]

"What, um, what are your terms?" asks Isabeau.

"My terms? Well, that, I suppose, will depend on whatever offer my esteemed colleagues put forth."

"I just want my council tax arrears forgiven."

"Is that all? I can surely see to that!"

"And we all owe rather a great sum of money to our patron," adds Bassianus.

"And just whoever is your patron?"

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

"We were cautioned against uttering his name aloud," adds Athalie.

"His spies are everywhere," whispers Isabeau.

[Q: Does she know their patron? likely (3+): O6 C5 - yes]

"Say no more," says Zurzoria, casting a glance back over her shoulder. "I suppose I could put in a word."

Zurzoria leads them down the stairs and into the little room beneath them with its agitated, wig-wearing occupant, whom she introduces as Ilmen Regal, one of the council tax collectors.

"Now, my good Ilmen, these people are my dear friends, and are to be treated accordingly. And they're soon to be your friends as well, for I am sending them to recover the Arcanum that the other councillors have so wrongly taken from you. I, of course, must maintain plausible deniability in case anything whatsoever goes horribly, terribly, awfully wrong. To that end, I shall distract the others in the building whilst you, my dear friends, recover the Arcanum. It's on the first floor in the room off the chemical laboratory, on the west side of the building. Find me or Ilmen when you have it. And don't go up these stairs -- I'll try keep everyone on this side."

Lady Belial flounces off up the stairs as the explorers return to the hall and then head east into a room with shelf after shelf of glass flasks [Präparate - preparations].

Athalie reads a few of the labels aloud. "Phosgene... arsenic trioxide... sodium arsenate... Strongbow... I dare say most of these are too toxic to handle."

They proceed with the utmost caution through the room and out into a chamber with work places [Arbeitsplätze] along one wall and movable partitions between. They see no one, and their footsteps seem overly loud in the stillness. They continue east through an unused room and further into an anteroom [Vorraum] with a line of comfortable wooden chairs and a magazine rack along one wall. Perched on one of the chairs is a nightmare insect, the size of a steamer trunk. The thing's carapace is gangrenous and decayed, but for every bit that sloughs off onto the befouled carpet, a new eruption of hard chitin grows elsewhere.

[encounter: weird thing
d%=decaying insect, regenerates]

Horrible Insect
STR 10, DEX 17, WIL 10, 4 HP
broken mandibles (d8)
regenerates 1d12/round until destroyed with fire, acid, etc.

[Q: Does it talk or just attack? 1d2=attack]

The thing buzzes and gurgles with malice as it leaps on three unsteady legs towards the intruders in its domain.

[Round 1]
They meet its onrush with bared steel. The blades bite deep, but despite the loss of several limbs the thing does not waver in its assault. [3+3+3=9dmg to 0hp, 5 STR; d20=no crit]

Its viscid mandibles snap at Athalie, forcing her back a step. The stench of decay coming off them makes her almost swoon. [5 damage puts her at 5hp]

And its wounds seem about to close up [regenerates d12=3, back up to 8 STR].

[Round 2]
Athalie recovers and cracks its head open with her sword. Bassianus caves in its shoulder with his axe, and nearly connects with Isabeau's blade transfixing the beast from the other side. It falls to the ground, leaking an upsetting pool of foulness. [5+3+2=10 dmg to -2STR].

"I think we're safe," hazards Bassianus. "It's brains are seeping into the carpeting."

"Athalie, dear," says Isabeau, "you're looking rather peaked. Maybe you'd ought to sit down for a moment."

Her stomach still in knots, she complies without protest.

Isabeau and Bassianus examine the door labelled "Arbeitszimmer für Assistenten und Praktikanten" and find it locked. They are poking about in the lock with their tools when they hear Athalie shriek. They turn about just in time to see Athalie standing on her chair and the insect lunging at her from the floor, only to be met by Athalie's blade with a sickening crunch. It once again falls back to the ground, twitching and gurgling.

[It regenerated d12=7 up to 5 STR; Athalie made a DEX save to avoid Surprise, and hit it for 4 dmg to 1 STR; d20=14, crit.]

"Heavens!" exclaims Isabeau. "I should have though of this before. What a silly goose I am!" She roots round in her pack and produces a flask of sulphuric acid, which she unstoppers and begins pouring over the insect in each spot that the regeneration begins. "I've been saving this for just such an occasion!"

"That flask looks just like the one you keep your drinkies in," observes Bassianus.

"Oh, I can tell the difference," says Isabeau, emptying the last of it over the chitin soup bubbling on the floor.

"Just stay on her good side, my dear," says Athalie, "and you needn't worry."

Bassianus has a go at the door and triumphantly announces he's picked the lock, then leads the way into the vast workroom [Arbeitszimmer f. Assistenten u. Praktikanten]. Rows of desks and benches are arrayed in the centre and beneath the windows -- beyond which only shimmering energy can be seen. Bookcases line the interior wall.

[I rolled 2 dice for an encounter as it's a big, useful place: encounter = servant. 1d4=1]

A servant is sweeping round the desks, [d6=]her white apron glowing purple with the eerie flashes of the energy field outside. She looks up as the explorers enter, and is just opening her mouth to say something when Bassianus snaps, "get back to work!" [WIL save=2, it works!] The startled maid lowers her eyes and goes back to her sweeping forthwith.

The southeastern door leads out into another little retreat [Retirade] smelling mostly of cigars, which leads out to a stairwell, mirroring the eastern half of the building. They file up the stairs to the first floor [erster Stock], and proceed north through into [Chemisches Arbeitzimmer] a chemical workroom with experiments bubbling away unattended on every workbench and counter.

The explorers move through it with extreme caution. They find the door to the chemical laboratory locked. Athalie gets to work on the lock with a metal utensil borrowed from one of the tables. [no encounters]

"We'd really ought to buy proper lockpicks," observes Isabeau.

Athalie mumbles something non-committal, absorbed in her task.

When they have gained entrance, they find the chemical laboratory [Chem. Laboratorium] to have been cleared of all furnishings. There is only a ghostly centipede floating in the middle of the chamber, undulating in a non-existent breeze. It darts immediately toward the intruders, shimmering with necrotic energy.

[automatic encounter: ghostly insect, fires death rays]

Phasmatopede
STR 9, DEX 10, WIL 12, 7 HP
Ghostly chitin (1 Armour)
Etherial Death Aura (d8 blast)


[Round 1]
They fall upon the creature with their weapons. Some blows swish straight through its semi-corporeal form, whilst others strike unyielding chitin. [3+4+3-3(armour x3)=7 damage to 0hp]

Waves of unwholesome force flash out from the thing, eroding the psyche and abrading the nerves. [A takes 1 to 9hp; I takes 8 to 1hp; B takes 5 to 4 STR, d20=2, no crit]

[Round 2]
Bassianus has the worst of it, but still he fights on beside his comrades. The thing soon loses cohesion under their thrashings, and drifts to the floor, leaking long wisps of ectoplasm into the air.

Another pull from their flasks is felt to be in order after the enervating effects of the creature's aura [short rest, no encounter], then they examine the southerly doors...

[Q: Is either one obviously more secure than the other? Unlikely (5+): O3 C1 - no, and...]

...which prove to be entirely identical. Bassianus shrugs, and tries the eastern one, seemingly at random. [1d2=this is the correct room]

The room beyond [Zimmer für Specialuntersuchungen : room for special examinations] appears to be a study or a smoking room, being decorated with tasteful paintings, wooden panelling, amply-stocked bookshelves, and first rate furniture, probably all antique. The only thing that is at all out of place is a pair of oversized bell-shaped iron helmets sitting upon the desk, connected at the top by a length of segmented brass tubing [Major Arcanum, d20=Mind Probe]. The explorers can practically feel the power emanating from the device. There can be no doubt but that this is the Arcanum they seek.

They peer at it, unsure of how to proceed. Some vile trap is certain to protect the device. Guardian or not, it can't just be sitting on a desk in an unlocked room, now can it? They search for traps, and find none. Then they search again. Still nothing. So they have a third go.

Athalie is afraid to touch it, so uses her sword to nudge it gently off the desk. One helmet tumbles onto the plush carpet with a dull thud. Despite the tubing, the second takes a little more prodding to push off after it, as they're both rather heavy [counts as a Bulky item]. The explorers stand over the helmets, staring down at them suspiciously.

"I-- I thinks it's safe to..." begins Isabeau. But the others call her bluff by not contradicting her, so that she feels compelled to go through with it and collect the item from the floor, lifting it by the connecting tube using her clockwork hand, lest the metal touch her skin.

[Q: Is it trapped? certain (2+): O1 C9 - no]

Nothing untoward transpires, so after they all laugh at their own paranoia, they begin to quickly and quietly (they hope!) retrace their steps. [1 encounter check per room traversed: 3,6,1 : minor personage]

As they reach the stairs, a creature of singular aspect is coming down from above them. It is the size of a sturdily-built man, and clad in an outmoded fashion, but its terrible head draws all eyes in as surely as it repulses the onlookers. It resembles nothing so much as the fossilised skull of a an extinct elephant. Great, downward-curving tusks protrude from the lower jaw, with its rows of exposed teeth. Empty eye sockets regard the explorers with brutish contempt. So arresting is the awful visage that one might nearly overlook the vice-like claws it has in place of hands. The thing stops short when it finds others on the stairs, and appears to be waiting for something.

Grank
STR 18, DEX 7, WIL 4, 12 HP
Vice-claws (d10, critical damage destroys a random limb)
Driven to carry out his master's orders, whilst grousing about it the whole time. Uninterested in anything else, unless he can complain about it delaying him.

[Q: What's Grank doing? dissipate the inward Darkness]

A steady stream of grumping and grousing issues from the cavernous maw. "'Go down to the cellar, Grank', they said. 'You're not too busy with all your other chores. Must make sure no one's left the gaslights on again.' Always leaving something going round here. If it's not the gaslights it's the chemical experiments. Can't ever finish a thing properly, not when they have old Grank to do it for them. Wastrels and layabouts, the lot of 'em. 'Fetch me my slippers, Grank. They're all the way across the room. You've certainly nothing better to be doing. And don't forget to polish the silver. And count it, Grank. The other servants aren't to be trusted.' It's not the servants stealing here, not that the masters want to hear it! Not that they'd listen to old Grank even if..."

The creature's monologue shows no signs of abating, so the bemused explorers rush down he stairs ahead of it, hoping it doesn't notice what Isabeau is carrying.

[d6=4,4,3,3,5,6,3 - no further encounters (roll of 1), or nearby footsteps/voices (2)]

They come back to Ilmen Regal's retreat [Retirade] without so much as hearing the footsteps of another being.

[Q: How does he react when he sees the arcanum? exemplary Conversation]

They are trepidatious about their reception, but Ilmen is on his best behaviour -- possibly having been threatened by Zurzoria. He ushers them politely into his retreat and offers them wine and cheap cigars (they accept both) then launches into a long and desultory tale of how he came by the Mind Probe. [knowing - report - history]

[Q: Does anyone die of boredom before Zurzoria returns? Unlikely (5+): O3 C2 - no, and...]

It turns out that once he gets started, Ilmen can weave quite the tale. But I should not relay his words to you, dear reader, for fear his marvellous eloquence would too greatly overshadow my own.

[Q: Does Zurzoria come back before anything else happens? unknown d6=6; O6 C5 - yes
The Doubtful (6) odds imply she almost didn't, so what is going on? Emanations of Splendor]

He is about to begin an excursus on the known history of the Probe when a breathless Zurzoria bursts in.

"The Star Being... has... broken free!" she gasps. "Those... fools thought they... could control it!"


next post: cosmic terror

ItO solo - Part IX : The borough council's redoubt

At last! after an absolute age of attacking the venerable masonry with the pickaxe, a human-sized gap in the wall has been opened up. Beyond is a cramped stairwell, dusty from decades of disuse. Mortine thinks parading a pig through the secret council chambers is likely to offend -- more so than their invasion, in fact -- so she ties Chatterton to the bannister before they ascend to the basement level.

A dingy landing with passages to either side greets them. There's no dust on the concrete floor, but the unfinished walls are in need of a clean.

"So," says Athalie, "which way from here?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," says Bassianus.

"Haven't you got the map?"

"No! I only stole the bottom level, so we'd know how to get in."

"Why didn't you steal the rest?"

"It had nothing to tell us of the current situation. Besides, I was afraid the librarians would hear if I tore out another page."

"He's right, my dear," says Isabeau. "Let's go this way. And we'd probably ought to sheathe our weapons until we know what's going on."


Scene 6

Chaos: average (d10)

Setup: explore the council building

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

Threads: investigate location

[Maps are of the Pathologische Institut of the Königliche Friedrichs-Wilhelms Universität in Berlin, from the BL's copy of  Die naturwissenschaftlichen und medicinischen Staatsanstalten Berlins (link) -- it's full of good hospital & university maps! The rooms are labelled, and are perfectly weird enough to suit the mysterious machinations of the borough council.

I looked over the maps once (in the process of choosing them) so I had a vague idea of the layout, which handily represents the fruits of Bassianus' research. Unfortunately, he only stole the plate with the sub-basement plan on it, so I covered the map with a solid opaque layer in GIMP and erased as the PCs explored.

Each room has a 1-in-6 chance of an encounter and a 1-in-8 chance of a useful/interesting/important item beyond what would obviously be in the room based on its function.]

d10 Encounter Item
--- --------- ----
1-3 servant useful
4-6 minor personage dangerous
7-8 weird thing spoils
9-0 major personage trap

Isabeau turns left (east, or thereabouts) down a cramped, odd-shaped corridor with alcoves set at odd heights in the wall. It opens into a small, dank chamber. The adjoining room contains shelf upon shelf of anatomist's tools [Utensilien]. Many of the tools are rusty with neglect, but on one of the shelves they appear to be clean and serviceable. None of the explorers are particularly in need of a new bone saw -- at least, not that any of them will admit! -- so after a cursory examination, they decide to press onwards.

They continue through to a larger open space with a low vaulted ceiling. All about are stacks of elongated wooden crates. No -- make that coffins [Sarge]. The room is cold enough, as basements go, but the odour wafting through the space tells the explorers that not all of the coffins are without inmates.

A family-sized jar of Dr. Whizzo's Instant Coagulatory Ointment sits unattended atop on of the coffins [dangerous item: bleed Balm]. Bassianus decides to pocket it, as several advertisements he read in a Paper of Record have convinced him of its wondrous efficacy. He doesn't believe the wild stories of mutations and death he's read about it in the more sensationalist newspapers. Or has he mixed up what he read where?

Dr. Whizzo's Instant Coagulatory Ointment: heals (or damages) STR by +d12-d12. number of points healed/inflicted x5% is chance of mutation

No one chances a peek under any of the coffin lids. They file silently through and then proceed (north) into another vaulted chamber, no doubt intended for more coffin storage. A leafy smell wafts in from the doorway to the north. Within the chamber the smell is more pronounced and joined with a sharp underlying chemical odour. [Experimentalthiere - experimental animals: automatic encounter (random picture)] Along the far wall is a tree-like structure cobbled together from wooden beams. At its base is a pile of organic detritus. [2d3=] Three giant silkworms are crawling lazily over the structure. They drop to the ground when disturbed by the explorers' entrance, and scuttle towards them, grotesque mouths chomping in anticipation.

giant silkworm
5hp
bite (d6 + disease on Critical damage: blood slowly turns to silk threads, no STR regeneration from long rests, fatal in d4 weeks)

The explorers draw their hand weapons (as no one wants to attract undue attention with firearms) and prepare to do battle.

[round 1]
Athalie and Bassianus square off against single opponents, whilst Mortine fights alongside (and sightly behind) Isabeau. The things leak a watery fluid when injured, but are undeterred by blows from axe and sword. Mortine lays one out with a crowbar to the top of the head, but is mildly unnerved by the crunching sound [it took Critical damage].

Athalie evades the snapping jaws of her foe [4 damage to 6hp] but Bassianus' clamps down on his arm. He feels a burning sensation followed by a heaviness in his limb as venom glands inject some sort of toxin, then his vision blurs and he slips to the floor in a daze. [5 damage to 0hp, 5 STR; d20=14, crit.]

[round 2]
Athalie runs hers through with her sword. It twitches and then collapses into a ball [Critical Damage]. Isabeau and Mortine rush to save Bassianus. Their blows dislodge the creature from his arm, but so worried were they about hitting their friend that their attacks merely annoy the creature. [1+2 damage, down to 8 STR; d20=1, no crit.]

But it turns said annoyance upon Mortine! The thing chomps down on her leg, and she too is overcome by dizziness, swooning at Isabeau's feet. [6 damage to 0hp, 3 STR; d20=crit]

[round 3]
Isabeau and Athalie skewer the creature from both sides in response. It moves no longer.

They must rouse their friends with a nip of the cheap stuff. Once they've collected themselves and decided that the poison is not an immediately problem [short rest, d6=no rand encounter, hp to full] they continue on their way.

The only other door leads east, so they pass through it to a laboratory full of glass apparatus on every conceivable surface [bakteriologische Untersuchung - bacteriological study]. Some of the phials, beakers, and assorted tubes are filled with still liquids, others bubble and froth of their own volition, and at least one is phosphorescing in the shadowy corner.

[Q: Is it super dangerous? likely (3+): O3 C7 - yes
Q: How? Business of Navigation - DEX save required to cross room without knocking something over]

The glass vessels are all interconnected by a series of slender tubes, forming a complex network round the whole of the lab.

"I don't think crossing that would be a good idea," mutters Isabeau.

"I believe you've read my thoughts, dear heart," says Athalie.

"Shall we retrace our steps?" asks Bassianus.

"Let's do!" says a relieved Mortine.

They retreat past the dead silkworms into the coffin storage overflow area [no encounters], then take a passage east to a small anteroom, which contains nothing but a door leading back into the laboratory, so are then forced to retreat again and try the other eastern passage. This leads to the bottom of a stairwell, where a sign points to a lift [Fahrstuhl] nearby.

They climb the stairs and find a door at the top. There's a short corridor beyond with the gaslights on low. The lift is opposite, and doors lead north and south. A threadbare green carpet of a design that was fashionable when our heroes were much younger attests to the occupation of this part of the council fortress.

"Let's see if we can find someone to tell us what's going on," whispers Athalie.

"We'd best douse the lantern," murmurs Isabeau.

"I'm sure our eyes will adjust," mumbles Bassianus.

"Do we put away our weapons?" asks Mortine sotto voce.

"Probably," says Athalie (sc. quietly). "But be ready to use them."

The floorboards groan underfoot. Athalie cracks open the northern door. "Halloooo," she calls in a particularly small voice. "It doesn't seem anyone has heard. Perhaps we should continue our explorations."

Opening the door further causes the mingled smells of camphor and decay to waft over the explorers. The room beyond [Sectiossaal - Dissection Room] is only lit from the corridor. Dissection tables are arranged in two neat rows. On one lies a monstrous corpse, its chest open and the flesh pinned back, with all its organs laid out on an adjoining table.

[Q: But is it dead yet? 50/50 (4+): O4 C3 - no, but... soon will be]

The thing strains against its bonds at the sound of the door opening, and a raspy voice issues from its distended maw.

"Come back to finish the job, have we? Have at, you foul fiends; do your worst!"

"It's still alive!" gasps Mortine.

"Oh! Begging your pardon, I though you were Doctor Butcher and [d6=]her cronies come back to continued their dashed experiments. Say, you couldn't see fit to unshackle me from this table, could you? I'd be ever so grateful, and of course, should you, some time down the line, find yourselves in a spot of bother..." [UNE: friendly - gratitude - future action]

"I don't like the looks of this place," whimpers Mortine.

"Nor I," answers Athalie. "Let's see what we can do."

The chains binding the monster are solid, but the padlocks securing them are enormous and old. It is but a few minutes work to poke about the locks' insides with a scalpel before the fetters are loosened and the thing is freed. [d6=3, no random encounter] As Athalie works and a sheepish Mortine guards the door, the Thing chats away pleasantly, relating the tale of its capture and mutation with extra-stellar matter, and the experiments which followed. It remembers little of its former life in bastion, but its name, [d100=] Katsun Offenpot, is engraved on a golden key fob amongst the Thing's effects discarded in a bin.

[cast of 1000s tables: gunsmith, unreliable genius

surviving PCs will be gifted high quality guns - with additional powers and disadvantages (but they won't be ready for at least 2 more adventures as I forgot to make a note of this at the end of my .txt file like I usually do.)

Q: Have the PCs heard of him? O6 C3 - yes, but... only d4=M]

"Oh!" interrupts Mortine as Bassianus reads the creature's (former) name aloud, "I used to work in a perfumery just a few doors down from your shop. They say you made the cleverest sorts of rifles. And there was that little buckler with a pistol built into it sitting in your shop window. How I always used to admire it, every time I passed."

"I shall make you a present of it," says the Creature, "if I survive this ordeal."

They help the Thing collect up its organs, shoving them back in the body cavity and wrapping it round tightly with bandages. They show it the stairwell and outline the escape route through basement, then give it a spare lantern and watch it lumber off on its way.

Closing the stairwell door quietly, they pass by the lift [Fahrstuhl], and go into [Saal für klinische Sectionen - clinical dissection hall] a larger dissection room. In contrast to where they'd met the poor experiment, this one has better lighting, seems much cleaner, and smells strongly of bleach; it is overall less dungeon-y feeling. The rows of tables are neat and spotless. But lest our company forget what sort of place this is, there is a long self full of specimen jars, with unidentifiable beings and parts of beings leering out of the formaldehyde.

[random item = trap : Sharpness of Death]

There is a door to the north, upon which is a brass placard, written in foreign. [Chirurgische Operationscurse und Section durch Examinanden - surgical operation courses & dissections tests] Below it hangs a hand-written notice reading 'Strictly No Admittance!!!'. Above the door is a pendulum-blade attached to a heavy iron mechanism.

"Do we dare...?" asks Bassianus.

"I might have an idea!" says Mortine. "Isabeau, darling, lift me up so I can reach."

She produces a glue pot from her pack. Isabeau bends down, then Mortine hikes up her skirts so she can sit on Isabeau's shoulders. Isabeau stands and holds as still as she is able [STR save succeeds] whilst Mortine coats the mechanism with glue.

Then they have to wait... and wait... and wait... [d6=no encounter]

"It should be set now," she says at last.

The others look on in silence.

"Oh, very well!"

Mortine turns the doorknob. There is an audible click from within, but, [DEX save to have done it right: d20=3, ok] fortunately, the glue holds the mechanism fast.

"See? nothing to fear."

Mortine opens the door, revealing a white-hot radiance within. She receives the full blast of its fury and is gone. The others throw the door shut in haste. Nothing remains of Mortine but a heavy whitish powder on the floor.

[Q: Why was it locked? The vengeful Flames

The Star-essence of which the Thing spoke is stored here. Mortine took d12 damage to 1d3=STR. d12=8 reducing her STR to -5.]

After a short rest to (variously) wipe the tears from their eyes / have a drink in Mortine's memory / say Kaddish, they file silently through the southwestern door into an empty hallway. [Short Rest, d6=no encounters] From there a door leads south to a stairwell with a door opposite [west] and a passage running beneath.

The little passage leads immediately to a small, cosy chamber [Retirade - retreat], smelling of dusty books and old tobacco. The lighting is dim, and barely penetrates the smoke suffusing the air.

[50/50 chance of encounter here: minor personage, which I rolled up on the Cast of 1000s tables in the Oddpendium, including their relationship to the council heretic/villain]

Ilmen Regal
-Tax collector, wedded into career
-powdered wig
-rival of villain
-found a major arcanum

[reaction roll=19, fail]

And old man in out-of-date fashion and a powdered wig appears out of the gloom, brandishing a pistol.

"Intruders! get back, or I'll use this!"

Athalie tries to plead with him, but he won't have it. She finds herself staring cross-eyed down the pistol's barrel, scarcely a finger's breadth away from her nose.

[Q: Does he take the shot? 50/50 (4+): O2 C7 - no]

She backs away slowly, as do her companions. They file silently up onto the stairs, out of sight.

"Let's wait to see what he does," whispers Athalie. Isabeau nervously draws her own pistol.

[encounter check whilst they wait: d6=1, encounter = major personage

Q: Is it the Villain? unlikely (5+): O4 C8 - no]

They stand guard some breathless minutes, all eyes and weapons trained at the bottom of the stairs. But it is soft footsteps and the rustle of crinoline above them that breaks the silence.


next post: a lady of rank

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