Dungeon of Signs

A RETURN TO THE FETID PIT

A new pack of scavengers, some still salt and sunburned from being pulled aboard the Apollyon and others with the hollow eyes of gaol habituates are escorted through the bustling central market of Sterntown, a neighborhood normally denied to them. The destination of the armed and armored scavenger gang is the Steward ramparts above the “Fetid Pit”. The revetments are sparsely manned, but bristle with flame sluices, spiked barricades, organ guns, arc lamps and volley darters all aimed down into the yawning air shaft that serves Sterntown as a sewer and chemical dump.

Never Trust a Slime Mold

Told that they must descend by climbing a great chain dangling above the pit to recover valuables the scavengers look down. The ramparts are a tiny brightly lit and protected refuge in the wall of a vast shaft. Gray light trickles from far above, cut by the slow progress of titanic fans and dappled by a veritable jungle of fungus, molds, lichens and plants reaching for the light. Below the first hundred feet have been cleared to the oddly terrace hull metal, likely by the application of chemical and other industrial wastes, but beyond the vertical jungle begins again: pale spiny bromeliads the size of trees, dense tangles of black vines spouting tiny leaves, and a lurid variety of bright fungus. The grey light fliters down only 200’ feet revealing some sort of installation near the descent chain, but beyond is only blackness and flashes of bioluminescence.

The scarred Steward guards are friendly enough, offering to lower a basket to raise any booty when the party launches flares, and providing four blue roman candles for the purpose. The scavengers are told they will be honored with a full 50% share of anything they recover from the depths and to seek machine tools, industrial stocks and edibles in addition gold, silver and other obvious treasures.

The latest draft of the unwanted includes

“Juan” – A doughty engineer with a penchant for pyromania.
“Mister Groob” – Another engineer, perhaps there’s something about working with machines that makes men inclined towards criminality and violence.

“Briney” - An adept of the mysterious leviathan, his salt encrusted hair and robes reek of the sea.

“Hisala” – Some sort of vile reptilian manthing, perhaps an unsuitable byblow of an uptown family, perhaps a voyager from a distant sphere, alchemist.
“Son of Von Lumpwig” – A dull witted looking, half drowned fellow of unknown craft – a dab hand with the crossbow. “Ulwin” - An inquisitor and witch smeller of the Temple of the Eternal Queen. Von Lumpwig makes him very uneasy.

“Clearwater” – A gladiator pulled from the sea, wearing decorative armor and adept with the net and trident.

The scavengers begin their descent and discover the chain is remarkably stable and fairly easy to climb. Descending past the cleared area the walls of the pit teem with life as insects swarm over the odd plant life feeding a host of lizards, crabs and strange naked rodents. The climbers after passing into the foliage the climbers decide to avoid a bed of mollusks, clinging from the wall and tasting the air with long feathery feelers. Not much can be seen, as the climbers only light is a bulb of crushed glow kelp, shedding a sickly green light that barely allows the adventurers light to find the monumental chain links beneath them.

Soon the climber stop, finding themselves at some sort of deck, where the chain continues down into darkness through a hole cut in the wire and corrugated iron flooring. Once the scavengers light a pair of torches the deck area and the strange building it serves becomes clearer. A ramshackle greenhouse, built from recycled panels of scavenged glass and a rusted frame juts out into the pit, with a small door leading inside, while a pair 10’ of ancient doors lead into the wall below a decaying sign that reads “Sterntown Agricultural Station #4” in letters blistered with time. Peering through the mismatched glass of the house reveals only a tangled jungle of dead vines splotched with pinkish lichen, while the doors prove to be unlatched and easy to swing open.

Within the station the scavengers barely have time to see that they are on some sort of warehouse floor, surrounded by decaying crates and drums, before a trio of pinkish beasts flapping on ragged rose colored wings descends on them. Mr. Groob is struck, and one of the horrors latches onto his face, its worm body opening into a single maw of thorn like teeth to gnaw at his scalp and drain Groobs blood. Thrown into confusion the party tries to fight back and while the combat is a swirl of daggers and razor teeth the attached flying worm is cut loose and the other two batted to the floor and slaughtered. Groob examines his tormentor to discover that the life form seems lack any organs, and is a solid pinkish sponge throughout, while others look around the warehouse.

Behind a row of crates, filled only with the moldered remains of agricultural goods the party discovers three huge sacks of chemical fertilizer, a potentially valuable commodity, as well a door leading deeper into the hull and a archway, partially clogged with some sort of irrigation device with a room beyond crammed with elevated bed filled with rich soil. In their search for treasures, the scavengers are more interested in the office that looms above the warehouse floor. Climbing the stairs Ulwin and Juan discover a locked office filled with simple metal furniture, stacks of paper, a pair of metal steamer trunks and a huge pulsing mass of pink fungus, covered in innumerable clear cysts, each containing neonate flying worms. Resolving to claim the chests, and incinerate the birthing mass, the scavengers set a clever plan into motion. Ulwin, Juan and Clearwater dash into the room and snatch the trunks. The mass shakes on convulses, birth a pair of hungry flying worms which the trio fend off. Groob stand in the doorway with a Molotov cocktail and a torch as his companions flee down the stairs, trunks banging behind them. More winged terrors pop from the shaking mass as Groob hurls the bomb and it spreads a curtain of flame over two of the emerging creatures as well as his target. Hisila using his magical command over fire turns the smouldering oil fire into an inferno reducing the mass of fungus to ashes and then damps the rest of the room into sullen embers. Exploring a desk in the office’s center Ulwin finds a valuable silver pen and ink set.

The noise of battle has not gone unremarked, and as the party descends from the plundered office in triumph several more of the worm creatures flap into their circle of torchlight. Choosing to retreat rather than fight, the adventurers dash out the double doors back onto the ledge, smash open the feeble locks on the trunks they recovered and debate where to go next. One trunk contains old ledgers, but the other holds a set of books on lightless horticulture, specifically the production of edible fungus, certainly worth something to the mushroom farmers of Sterntown.

Emboldened, the tangled vines of the greenhouse no longer seem quite as threatening to the fortune hunters, but when Groob opens the door and enters he fails to spot a flock of the horrible pink winged worns, hanging like rotten fruit amongst the dead vines. Several of the vile creatures wing towards to wounded engineer, but Groob has the presence of mind to dash backwards and firmly close the door. Somehow sensing life and food beyond the greenhouse glass, the entire flock, nearly twenty strong begins to flutter and scratch against the glass. The party stands shocked, as the likely fungal horrors rattle against the flimsy seeming panes, but soon grow confident that the beasts cannot escape. While Groob distracts the things, striding back and forth before the glass manfully, the rest of the scavengers scurry back into the double doors, hopeful that the winged death remains transfixed on the Engineer. The gamble pays off and soon the party, except for Groob, stands at the rear of the warehouse and tries the crooked door there.

Beyond the door are the remains of a rough barracks with four sets of bunks, each with sheeted forms laid to rest on them. When the forms don’t move, the adventurers scan the room, noticing a kitchen with a simple iron stove and a mess of rusted pans in the rear, a curtained area, likely containing sanitary facilities, and more ominously that the sheets covering the dead are splotched with rose tinted lichen. With no respect for the dead, Son of Von Lumpwig fires a crossbow bolt at one of the corpses, but it missing banging off the bunk’s metal frame. The noise is enough to wake the quartet of fungal zombies, and they stride forward, arms outstretched, still tangled in their burial shrouds. Von Lumpwig calmly reloads and shoots a quarrel into one of the advancing creature’s skulls, while Ulwin attempts to drive them off with divine grace, realizing as he does so that the walking corpses are not undead, but rather the hosts for some sort of vile reanimating infestation. Retreating through the door, the other walking dead are quickly slaughtered with poleax and trident blows. Triumphant again the adventurers quickly ransack the barracks, finding a huge silver trophy cup amongst the kitchen’s debris. It is engraved “Grande Prix, Largest Mushroom, 15^th annual Sterntown Fungiculturalist’s Ball” and worth several hundred coins.

Retreating with their find the adventurers collect Groob, still strutting bravely before the trapped flock of angry worm things, and decide to signal the Steward’s above. A blue flare screams off into the darkness, with no reply from above. The adventurers are about to fire another when a huge bioluminescent form begins to rise from below. As it approaches the beast appears to be some sort of enormous gas filled piscine nightmare, much like an angler fish and eight feet in diameter. Deciding that the fish means them harm, an oil flask is hurled directly into it’s face as it approaches. At twenty feet away Groob shoots his pistol into the creature, but neither the reek of oil nor the impact of the ball seem to distress the creature. The other adventurers begin to fire the remaining signal flares at the fish’s balloon like sides, and two flares spark off unsuccessfully before the last catches the creature in the side, igniting the oil and quickly burning to the gas beneath the creature’s skin. The fish explodes in a blast of heat and rolling green flame, that knocks several of the adventurers to their knees, but provides a signal that even the most jaded of Steward’s cannot ignore, and soon a basket is lowered for the scavengers and their loot.

KING’s FESTIVal

That's a Cool Cover with Solid 80's Beefcake

B11, Kings Festival is in many ways the opposite of B10-Night’s Dark Terror, rather than a sprawling journey with somewhat loosely connected parts and many side adventures, King’s Festival is narrowly focused and very tiny in scope. It is perhaps too tiny, and too simple to be remotely useful. This isn’t to say that King’s Festival is worthless, much of the adventure is a set of play aides and advice, and as these things go the advice and aides are both moderately useful. The module itself is nicely written and has a few good touches, with solid description and scene setting, unfortunately the descriptions and scene are also terribly boring in King’s Festival, and the module has this feeling of being risk adverse and washed out. This lack of setting and evocative detail (there is an excess of detail, it’s just not evocative) is so prevalent that B11 is a dull, clichéd fantasy adventure doomed to fail as a an introduction to table top roleplaying games because it manages drains every bit of the fantastical, weird and awesome out of the genre.

King’s Festival is firmly in the late period of TSR products, written in 1989 by Carl Sargent, and it is a far more polished product then any adventure preceding it in the ‘B’ Series. By 1989 it seems that TSR had abandoned the heroic story arc model of the Dragonlance Modules at least to a degree, as King’s Festival is not a merciless railroad. This may be because it is too small to be a railroad, consisting of a single location, but the GM advice in the first 10 pages doesn’t seem to encourage too much fidelity to a specific story. Instead B11 uses alignment and the call for a heroic struggle against chaos as it’s justification for expecting and encouraging specific player actions. There is something potentially interesting here, but again the blandness of the setting in Kings Festival remove any reason to contemplate or explore any potential here.

THE ADVENTURE

Lovely, simple cartography

Karameikos is the setting for King’s Festival, but it is not the semi-Slavic Karameikos of Night’s Dark Terror, it’s a generic fantasy good kingdom. I won’t say high fantasy, because that implies a certain amount of grandeur and wonder – 1989 TSR Karameikos has none of this, it’s a Grand Duchy, part of a larger empire, ruled by a beloved good prince, who’s only real enemy is an evil baron ruling a nearby duchy. Demi-humans live within the communities of humanity without strife and generally the world presented in B11 is vaguely sketched, highly ordered and without much moral ambiguity. The characters are assumed to be adventurers, seemingly a class of wandering troubleshooters who deal with problems too dull for the local authorities.

The center of town life appears to be a shrine to an unnamed, but lawful deity and festivals focused around this shrine. The party is in town for on such Festival, The Kings Festival, and during the night the shrine is raided and burnt by orcs who also carry off the locale priest and kill a pair of townsmen. The town of Stallanford is also dull, it undoubtedly has cobbles in its streets and its inn serves a nice beef.

The party is encouraged to set off after the orcs and a local guide (who won’t enter the orc lair) tracks the marauders into the hills leading the party to an old cave. The lair is explored, the orcs slaughtered or defeated and the priest rescued after revealing a secret door leading down into an old tomb below the orc nest. Beyond the secret door is another small dungeon, which includes a few monster worms, a carrion crawler, and then some undead lead by an evil priest who is looting the tomb.

THE GOOD

The introductory notes are not bad at discussing the mechanical and social aspects of running a game of D&D, though they do not touch on campaign creation, which B11 sorely lacks. They are more cautious and tentative then similar remarks in earlier ‘B’ series modules, but they cover a lot more ground, discussing player behavior and urging GMs to respect player agency while using the game world’s own logic to ratchet down on individual disruptive players. While not fully embracing the attitude of allowing player decision to create the adventure (they still encourage finding ways to get the party to the ‘right’ dungeon).

The room descriptions are nicely complex but still short, though there is an unfortunate amount of boxed text. It’s sad that the level of detail put into them is wasted on such a dull setting, same with the tactical challenges that Kings Festival tries to create. Some of these encounters are good, a drunk orc guard, a cowardly murderous orc lieutenant, and an orc spell casters, but they are ultimately very trite. The art is likewise of good quality, though again there’s a blandness to it, and I think a piece on the front page is a black and white version of the back cover art from Keep on the Borderlands

I also enjoy the way that Kings Festival attempts to use alignment as a key factor in complicating the game. Alignment is supposed to mean something to the characters, though it is described as mostly a set of prohibitions without any benefit or in game explanation. To some extent this is TSR pushing back against accusations that D&D encourages amorality or rewards villainy, but I think there may be something here, especially in a game that is focused on a more medieval world where faith, social hierarchy and loyalty to a liege have real meaning. This could be an interesting mechanic to play with, but sadly King’s Festival only uses it as a bludgeon to keep players from being sadistic. In my mind the game world’s reaction and the GM’s descriptive powers are better at keeping players from being sadistic.

The treasure descriptions are excellent in King’s Festival, everything is a pile of furs or jewelry with a few descriptors rather then simply coins. There are caches of coin, but they aren’t the rule, and the descriptions of treasure are nicely minimal but evocative. In general the treasures are simple and in keeping with King’s Festival’s awful blandness, but they are far better then anything else I’ve seen in a B-Series module. Even the magic items (tastefully sparse) get a few world of description beyond their bold texted effects.

THE BAD

The King’s Festival is combat focused, from the introduction that speaks of characters battling the forces of chaos rather than finding a fortune the implication is strongly that the game is about slaying monsters. While the introductory advice properly discusses reactions and monster morale (including several notes about how slaying monstrous captives or non-combatants is a chaotic act, and something that lawful characters must prevent) there’s a very strong emphasis on the tactical aspect of the adventure, which sadly is managed in the classically worst way. The orcs appear highly militaristic and organized but calmly wait in their chambers to be slaughtered in small packets. With the beasts and undead in the lower level this makes some sense, but with an orc raiding party expecting reprisal I want to see an order of battle and some tactics.

While the ‘Dungeon of Bystander Effect’ issue is common and easily remedied, B11’s worse sin is that is just dull, from the monsters to the setting, to the minutia, it’s dull and unimaginative. King’s Festival is a flavorless pablum of D&D standards: bad orcs, good townsfolk, dungeons without an ecology or meaning. There are some nods in the direction of evocative setting in the form of treasure description, new monsters, and a few creatures with some kind of purpose that effects their actions, but in the end King’s Festival is an unimaginative one page dungeon spread over many pages and without the sort of evocative detail that would justify such expansive writing. At one time I was thinking about writing the worst adventure module possible, to be titled “Some Orcs in some Rooms”, and while B11 at least has some nice touches (treasure description and some nod towards tactical problems/complexities and a refreshing lack of Mimics) it is far too similar to that ‘worst adventure’ I had in mind.

King’s Festival is very detailed, it seeks to explain every nuance and area so that a GM need not add anything, and ultimately cannot add anything, and perhaps this is what limits its scope and adds to its dullness. The problem with the totalizing method of adventure design is that while it may create the appearance of a neatly bounded play experience, with every possible box checked, every object described and possibility enumerated this neatness is not necessary or desirable in a written adventure. Table top games are some sort of improvisational story building, combined with a strategic game of chance. The game can shift in either direction depending on system (even within a fantasy setting), with something like Torchbearer on one end, where fitting actions into a seamless story is the goal of the game, or a tactical number crunching, something like Games Workshop’s Mordenheim or allegedly 4E D&D. Still in either of these cases, if the players are to interact with the game world beyond moving tokens and making rolls (not that a purely mechanical game is bad), player input will at least focus on certain aspects of a game world and the descriptions of the world will emerge from player understanding.

The point at which a player says ‘I stab that green orc bastard’ is the point that orcs become green in the game world, because the GM (busy with everything else) hadn’t bothered to explain what orcs look like. Even in a vanilla D&D setting these sorts of emergent details appear all the time (much like house rules often emerge from ad hoc in game decisions), and it is far better to accept or encourage them than to try to predict and preempt them. When a GM or worse a published product attempts a total description of the game world it takes an enormous amount of space, diverts energy from more interesting aspects of adventure design, shows a distrust for the reader/player, a disregard for how other’s games may be unique and ultimately undertakes a doomed effort. Even B11, despite its wealth of detail neglects to give an adequate describe the orcish enemy, other than with general adjectives.*

I believe that B11’s attempt to lay everything out, limit strange possibilities and create a fully prepared adventure led to its tiny scope and relative lack of interesting content. There is nothing wondrous or exciting about invading a lair of degenerate chaos soldiers to rescue the local holy man, the whole thing feeling washed out and dull, despite some good individual encounters.

However much B11’s totalizing is responsible for its dullness, it’s certainly responsible for its tiny scope, and really this scope is a problem. While almost every room of the small dungeon has an encounter – combat with monsters usually, it’s still a tiny place. Some empty rooms and variety would be good, beyond just an endless series of fairly easy fights, and this would also allow a larger complex. Indeed if the orc hole is the first level of some sort of ancient barrow complex, adding a few empty areas that give the party an idea of what to expect below, or the space to engage in tactical shenanigans with a less passive group of orcs would be beneficial.

MY FIXES

Karameikos is just a name, and I don’t feel like buying the Gazetteer, but it’s an evocative name – sort of Slavic and Greek at the same time. The first idea is to make Karameikos a kind of renaissance Albania, with Imperial overlords based on the Ottoman grating against a restive but mostly passive populace. One could bend it a little more, Duke (or Voivode) Stephan is a pretty smart guy, and he is trying to use ritual and problem solvers to keep the Imperial Army in its barracks, minimizing resentment and extracting tribute efficiently. This way one needn’t turn Karameikos into some kind of hinterland or post plague, fallen empire points of light campaign, but rather a place where insurgency simmers and the party must behave appropriately to prosper (that is they must follow certain strictures and standards of behavior that both prevent offense and keep up the Imperial dignity). Failure to follow these codes means Imperial Sanction or making oneself a target for rebels.

In this context the party is a group of these troubleshooters, indigenous lesser nobility most likely, told they can earn Imperial rank, trust and wealth by making sure things go smoothly in the townships as long as they don’t call on Imperial intervention. Right now this means coming into town, putting on a good show of nobility, presiding over the Kings Festival and then collecting the tribute of teenage candidates for the Imperial Janissary Corps. Obviously walking off with a chunk of the towns strapping youth is a source of resentment, and the town elders will be very punctilious about their rights and demand that the tribute is provided at the Kings Festival under certain conditions.

Arriving in the town there’s a festive feel, but an undertone of malice and tension, as if the whole place is ready to explode. Indeed some of the local hotheads and grieving parents have made a deal with the local guerillas/bandits/religious fanatics and intend to derail the festival and tribute, not realizing that this will result in the savage Imperial light cavalry massacring and enslaving the entire town several months later. The priest is a voice of reason and authority though, an educated fellow who understands just how powerful, merciless but generally hands-off the Empire is and he has kept the town peaceful. The raid of course disrupts the festival, and the fanatics can’t resist burning the shrine, kidnapping the priest and murdering a few collaborators (or folks who happen to be in their way).

Reskin the orcs as Karameikosian nationalist hold-outs, grown nasty after ten years of defeat, flight and guerilla warfare. Better yet, they’re not just run of the mill guerillas, they are the battered remnants of a monastery of fighting monks, some kind of Templars who’s ideals have been long drowned in an ocean of blood. Worse still they recently came under the influence of some kind of mystic (the evil priest), a Rasputin like figure with an entourage of “silent monks” reeking in their holy filth (ghouls – they are freaking ghouls) until “Karameikos is Free”. The Mystic has the fallen Templars raiding old barrows (in addition to their normal round of depredations and kidnappings) to find artifacts of his ancient cult. The cult of course does want to free Karameikos from Imperial rule, but it’s an ancient thing, dedicated to chaos and giant worms (any excuse to add purple worms to a campaign is great). This worm cult makes the lower level of the barrow more fun, as the non-worm enemies can be reskinned as worms (and mostly it's worm enemies already - including the beloved carrion crawler) or the creepy undead monks of the evil worm priest.

This set up does a lot of things, it adds urgency to the scenario and sets up some campaign defining options: it allows the party to make a moral choice between a good cause with bad methods and a dubious cause with good methods, and creates a clear bread crumb trail (a worm cult, everyone hates worm cults) for the party to potentially follow (they can always go back to Stephan, get some praise and get sent off to troubleshoot somewhere else). Finally it allows one to do start a directed sandbox campaign without breaking one of the more interesting (and one of the only) setting elements in King’s Festival, the setting as peaceful land where the moral content of player actions are important.

For example, with the orcs as Templars, they are simply bad men – likely mutated by worm worship, but the issue of if the party should slay the noncombatants (woman and children) found with them is no longer something that any players I know will have to wrestle with. One can make these folks kidnapping victims, or secret worm cultists to make that decision either easier or harder, but either way it looks like Stallanford (why a vaguely German/English name in fantasy Albania?) is getting some new populace.

After thinking of how I’d run King’s Festival I’m kind of enamored with my solutions, but at the same time I don’t want to suggest the module is remotely worthwhile. It’s too small in scope and uninteresting to be of use. If a GM absolutely needs a small vanilla orc lair to drop on a sandbox map, perhaps it’s useful, but since the adventure will need to borrow everything evocative or fun from that GM’s existing setting, why bother. The first few pages are a nice primer to game management, but they aren’t something that isn’t available elsewhere.

* This raises another question which I like to call “What is an Orc Anyhow?” - properly subject of a future post.

Rustgate Living

As Part of my new campaign of HMS Apollyon exploration I've decided to modify my price lists and downtime actions. Below are housing options and a list of equipment. It is worth noting that each of the Factions in Sterntown can provide their adherents with better equipment at a lesser price, as well as specialty items.

Also Available as a PDF

Life is cheap in the Rustgates, both in the sense that there is little protection for those without patrons or money to buy protection, and in that an individual can survive relatively cheaply eating from the various food vendors and gin shops while buying space in one of the many flophouses. This sort of lifestyle, revolving around substance abuse, bad food and the constant threat of casual violence is not especially healthy, but its worst elements can be mitigated by spending gold.

Each Expense Below has two categories Residence/Dining a character may spend money on each category, in addition to an actual carousing. The categories are cumulative, thus a session where the character runs out of money and lives like a hobo during the downtime means that next session they will have -2 HP per Hit Die. Conversely a week of the high life might cost 1,000 GP but it allows the character to reroll twice in the next session.

Many factions provide their members with at least the basic level of sustenance during downtime. For example, any member of the Scavenger’s Union may sleep in its barracks (a flophouse) for free between sessions, but their food expenses are not covered, while Vory members are often asked to pay a vig of 10% - 25% of their earnings for housing and food up to the Boarding House level.

Downtime Expense	Cost	Effect
Sleeping Rough/Dumpster Diving	None	- 1 HP/per HD (minimum 1 HP)
Bar Floor/ Booze and Snacks	5 GP	None
Flophouse/Noodle Shops	15 GP	+ 1 HP
Boarding House/ Hearty Food	50 GP	+ 1 to Saving Throws
Private Room /Fine Dining	100 GP	+1 HP/per HD
Sybaritic Luxury/Strange Drugs	500 GP	+1 Reroll

Equipment

Equipment may be purchased in the Rust Gates or the other bazaars of Sterntown, but this is simple, frequently worn out, often shoddy and generally overpriced. The same craftsmen generally supply their finer equipment to the armories and stockpiles of the various factions aboard the Apollyon who provide it or sell it to their partisans. General adventuring equipment is also readily available, but tend to be priced higher, as when vendors see scavengers (generally deemed to be both spendthrift and moderately wealthy) the prices for even mundane items go up. Most scavengers try to find patronage with local organizations (criminal, civic, religious or financial) fairly quickly to cut their downtime costs.

Melee Weapons	Modifiers	Cost
Cudgel		5
Dagger	Close	10
Whip	Light/Entangling	10
Cestus/spiked knuckles	Close	10
War crowbar/military pick	Piercing	20
Spear/trident	Reach	20
Ball and Chain	Entangling	20
Boarding axe	Cleaving	20
Mace	Piercing	25
Cleaver/Falchion/Cutlass	Cleaving	25
Maul	Great/Piercing	25
Rapier/Smallsword	Finesse	50
Executioner’s Sword	Great/Cleaving	100
Missile Weapons	Modifiers	Cost
Hatchet/Tomahawk/Chakram (3)	Preemptive	10
Javelin (3)	Ranged	10
Throwing Knives (3)	Preemptive	15
Light Crossbow	Ranged	55
Heavy Crossbow	Ranged/Piercing/Slow (1)	150
Gonne (Pistol)	Explosive/Preemptive/Slow (3)	100
Gonne (Musket)	Ranged/Explosive/Slow (3)	150
Blunderbuss	Preemptive/Explosive/Slow/Burst (4)	125
Ammunition	Serves	Cost
Bolts (20)	Crossbow	20
Ball (20)	Gonne	5
Shot (10)	Blunderbuss	5
Powder (30)	Gonne/Blunderbuss	30
Munitions	Effect	Cost
Whale Oil/Alcohol Bomb*	Splash (2) Light/Burns	10
Grenado	Splash (4) Heavy	50
Pyrotechnic Rocket*	Premptive/Light	5

Scavenger’s Equipment	Effects	Cost
Torch (x3)	Light for 3/(30’) Duration (1)	5
Lantern	Light for 4/(40’) Duration (2)	30
Flask of Whale Oil*	Refills lantern	5
Glow Kelp Bulb*	Light for 1/(5’) Duration (4)	15
Rope	50’ of heavy rope	10
Grapple	Entangling/Light	15
Net	Entangling/Preemptive	10
Rations	1 Week Dehydrated/canned Rations	10
Dried Meat	1 Week, usually Dried Fish	15
Skin or bottle of alcohol	Kelp arrack or mushroom wine	10
Lard/Fat/Grease	A 1 lb block for lubrication or food	5
Iron Spikes and Mallet (6)	Jams doors and devices	5
Hand Mirror	Can reflect gaze attacks	5
1 Lb chalk/charcoal/flour	Dust, may help detect invisible	5
10’ Pole (with hook)	Light/Reach	5
Shovel/Pick	Light	10
Hex cage*	Suppresses Magic	50
Devil Shells*	Delay Devils	150
Door Charge*	Blows open locked doors	150
Specialist’s Tools*	A professional’s tools	100

Oil or Alcohol Bomb Specially manufactured incendiary devices designed for ease of use. Most are little more than glazed ceramic orbs stoppered with wax and trailing a wick (at 10 GP), but they can be more complex, up to the point where they involve “self-shattering glass” tubes containing “binary accelerants” triggered by a “phosphoric devil” (100 GP apiece). Most adventurers opt for the cheaper variety, though others prefer to make their own bombs from flasks of lamp oil. The only advantage to a prepared incendiary bomb is that it takes a round to shove an oily cloth into a normal flask of oil to prepare it.

Pyrotechnic Rocket Less a weapon then a signaling device or distraction, these hefty rockets are usually paper tubes filled with various chemics and combustibles that will burn quickly and brightly to create a variety of rosette, cascade, flare, and globe effects in many different colors. Each rocket comes with enough fuse to delay launch up to a turn. As an improvised weapon, pyrotechnic rockets are useless at all but the shortest ranges, as the explode with limited force, have no accuracy and burn fairly coolly.

Flask of Whale OilCheap, portable lamps aboard the Apollyon use whale oil or other, more foul smelling oils extracted from a variety of sea life. The oil is highly volatile and a glass or ceramic flask of the stuff can be converted into a firebomb with a shred of torn cloth and a round of preparation. Oil lamps are popular amongst scavengers for this dual use, as even the lamp can be hurled as a last ditch defense, its internal glass reservoir often exploding on impact. More expensive oil-free lamps: phosphor jars, luminescent grubs, lime wands and even voltaic orbs are available to wealthier patrons, but in the markets of the Rustgate oil lamps predominate.

Glow Kelp BulbThe bladder of a bioluminescent kelp bulb, pickled in chemics. When agitated these bulbs glow, providing heatless, colorful light for a longer period of time. While not much brighter than a candle, glow kelp has an advantage in that it can be used underwater. Glow kelp bulbs come in a variety of colors, though green is most common, and in a stable environment glow kelp can last up to a month. The constant jostling of carrying them as a light source tends either puncture glow kelp’s thin membrane or burn the bioluminescent chemicals inside within a day or less.

Hex CageProtective fetishes commonly made by Frogtown shaman, Ship Spirit practitioners and the Queen’s Priests these items take a variety of forms from the traditional cage of tiny bones to brass filigree icons. Imbued with magical proscriptions and wards when affixed to a point a Hex Cage will render an area of 10’ in diameter uncomfortable to magical creatures such as outsiders and elementals as well as suppress magic (giving a -1 to any roll involving magic and a +1 to any save against it). Once affixed a Hex Cage cannot be removed without destroying its effect.

Devil ShellsTraditionally sold in velvet satchels inscribed with the pitchfork glyph of the nine hells, these strange objects are very useful when dealing with Devils. The shells themselves are small spiraled shells, like those of a nautilus but colored with fierce red and black stripes and possessing strange geometries that are unwise to contemplate for more than a few moments. When the shells are strewn before an outsider originating in the Hells the creature’s obsessive orderliness will often compel it to stop and count the shells, giving time to flee. More intelligent Devils will often be able to ignore the compulsion for a while and even the most unintelligent will not stop fighting to count shells, however, eventually all devils will be compelled to return and count the shells. Devils do not like being annoyed, and forcing them to catalogue and pick up shells will infuriate them.

Door ChargeA solid iron cone with a wick coming from its narrow end and spikes on its wide end. The charge is a device to blast open doors, and rather than relying on pure force it depends on the iron cone directing its blast against the locking mechanism of the door. The charge is likely to blast a fist sized hole through even a reinforced door up to an inch thick, but is rarely strong enough to spring one of the Apollyon’s locking hatches or security doors. The spikes are designed to affix the charge to wooden doors, while a large lump of tar acts as a secondary adhesive for doors that the spikes cannot get a purchase in. A door charge takes a turn to set properly, and ignite, opening doors on a 5 in 6 chance.

Specialist’s ToolsA bundle of tools that a Specialist or other individual with an specific aptitude or career finds useful and necessary for pursuing their skills. The lockpicks of a thief are the most iconic, but an assassin or alchemists tools for the storing and collection of poison or a bag of surgeon’s tools are also included in the category. Specialist’s Tools do not represent the full kit necessary for setting up a shop or library, only the basic equipment necessary to practice a specific art while traveling or exploring.

BRINEY MEETS HIS END

In which Briney the netfighter, Mr. Groob the incendiary, Nelson the Academic, Von Lumpwig’s Son the Reanimator and the disgraced passenger Anzio venture again into the Fetid Pit, lay waste to its denizens and face tragic consequences in a brutal melee.

Again into the Humid Jungles of the Fetid Pit

An expedition of scratch scavengers down the great airshaft marking Sterntown’s Port border gave up fine treasure on the last expedition and success draws imitators. A smaller band of scavengers, most now proudly wearing the green arm band of The Scavenger’s Union (Groob, Von Lumpwig and Briney), and having recruited a stilt walking scholar by the name of Nelson, A fallen passenger caste elementalist called Anzio resolve to seek more treasure deeper in the pit.

Groob manages to talk a punch-drunk pit fighter the party decides to name “Punchy” into joining them as an equipment bearer, the addled fighter believing that the pit will be an excellent place to “Find flowers for a pretty lady”. Before they disembark Von Lumpwig reveals his true nature as a dabbler in the cursed necromantic arts, though only up to raising an animate mass of chicken skin and soup bones cunningly wired into the form of one of the red worms the party battled in their first expedition. Von Lumpwig names the creature “Kissy Face” much to the disgust of Mr. Groob who’s face is still bruised and scabbed from encountering the actual red worms.

Prepared with a lantern and plenty of oil the band descends the great chain into the Fetid Pit with a few words of encouragement from the Steward detachment guarding the bastion. Climbing the chain is simple enough, but now knowing that the Pit is filled with floating monsters and flying horrors the chain no longer feels safe.

Deciding to forgo another expedition into the Agricultural Station and with Nelson and Groobs urging the scavenger’s continue to descend the chain, deeper into the hanging jungle. Thick cables of oily black vine, and the stark white spines of giant albino bromeliad press ever closer to the climbers, and the chain itself grows slick with lichen and slime mold. After descending 280’, almost three decks below Sterntown, their way lit only by the oil lamp dangling from Punchy the boxer’s belt by a short rope, the adventurers notice a stairway winding down the side of the pit. The stair is 300’ feet to the right along the overgrown walls of the pit, and while the terraced walls are covered with handhold: pipes, vines, old scaffolding and planter boxes, negotiating them looked difficult, slow and very dangerous, especially over the long distance.

While gauging their options, observing their surroundings, and ultimately abandoning the idea of setting off across the curved walls of the pit towards the stairs the scavengers discover a series of smashed windows in the pit wall only 40’ from them. Von Lumpwig cajoles his crude reanimated thrall to flap clumsily into the windows, and when nothing attacks it the nimble Mr. Groob offers to climb into them, if a rope and grapple is affixed for him to shimmy along. Soon Groob is hanging from a rope inching along towards the open gallery, with the other scavengers watching, bracing the rope and trying to aim crossbows at the surrounding foliage while maintaining their grip on the great chain.

An Ancient Industry

Despite their watchfulness, the adventurers fail to notice the emergence of a three foot long housefly with a shriveled human face and tiny humanoid arms emerge from the tangle of vines below Groob. The swooping abomination darts at the engineer quickly, landing on his chest, while Groob hung clings helpless to the rope for life. The fly does not attack, but instead snatches Mr. Groob’s wallet from the pouch tied to his waist and begins to fly off. Nelson tries to distract the creature by waving a shiny gold piece in the air, but while interested, the Robber Fly was content to carry off its treasure and quickly disappear back into the vines.

Following the unlucky Mr. Groob along the rope, the entire party soon finds themselves standing in a former viewing gallery, bar and restaurant, its interior dressed in chipped stone panels. Stone dust and flakes lay thick on the floor, a sign that primitives once used the chamber for flint napping, flaking and grinding chunks of the wall covering and various planter boxes into stone points. Two stairs lead from the initial gallery back into the hull, with a colony of fist sized mollusks overlooking the Eastern stair. As the scavengers watch, a long tendril, covered in tiny cilia tastes the air from one of the wall clams, but luckily the creatures look too small to be especially dangerous.

Searching the upper area, the adventurers find two doors, and more signs of inexpert industry. The more ornate door exits into a gangway where a rotted pipe has crashed through ceiling and floor, creating a ruinous jumble impossible to bypass without at least a block and tackle. The simple door behind the gallery’s defunct bar enters a store room, long striped of anything but bare metal shelves. On one of the shelves is an obsidian idol in a small stone shrine. Nelson tips the thing over, disturbed by its grotesque snake-like visage and finding it inert slips it into his pack to sell.

A Savage Interlude

Leaving the gallery, the scavengers continue their climb down the chain, but are spooked by a pulsating colony of pink puffball mushrooms that are corroding the orichalcum plates of the hull, and resolve themselves to finding a way to the spiral stair. By climbing back to the trusses and support beams beneath the Agricultural Station the adventurers discover a fairly easy path along the wall of the pit. While moving closely amongst the pilings of the station, they also discover the first sign of humanoid life, a series of strange gris gris, made of bundled bones, carefully tied with sinew and strung amongst the beams. Mr. Groob notes that some of the beams and the plates beneath the Agricultural Station greenhouse look weak and decayed.

Beyond the struts and pilings of the Agricultural Station the scavengers have a bit of luck, discovering that the station’s piling are at least partially the remnants of the stairway’s supports. The stairs have been torn away, but the struts that once held them jut from the wall, and even in the dim light filtering from far above the scavengers notice that the winding stairs resume only seventy feet from the tangle of supports they stand in.

With the remaining struts to aid them, passage to the stairs can be accomplished safely with ropes and jury rigged harness, but it takes almost thirty minutes for the scavengers to reach the crumbled concrete and metal of the wide stairway, which descends slowly, hugging the wall of the pit in a long curve. As the adventurers begin to descend the stairs, they are startled by the sound of voices and a faint glow of red fire light emanating from a niche in the pit wall, where an ancient piece of machinery has been torn away. Shaded by a few overhanging vines the occupants of the niche are hard to make out, especially after Mr. Groob’s henchman shutters the lantern, but after their eyes adjust to the feeble natural light and the glow of the stranger’s fire the scavengers make out four lanky figures. Maggot white and approaching eight feet tall the strangers appear humanoid, but warped, their bodies hunched and covered in sinewy cords of muscle and their scarred skin covered only by thin belts of sinew that hold bone hatchets. Bone, rebar and fungus wood spears lean in a pile near the fire. The tall white humanoids have still not noticed the scavengers, and are arguing furiously over their small fire made of charcoal in a language of grunts and hisses.

Anzio decides to awe the savages with his bound earth elemental, a crude monkey like figure of dirty white crystal. Taking the obsidian serpent idol from Nelson’s pact, Anzio wraps it in a his cloak to affix it to the oreades’ head and sends it to walk majestically past the strange humanoids’ fire. The creatures are startled, but don’t attack immediately. One attempts to prod the elemental with a spear, but not aggressively. The elemental steps back, but soon returns to stare. Having had enough from the strange spirit, the savages attack and one smashes the crystal with a bone hatchet, sending cracks throughout its body.

Seeing their ally attacked, the party unveils their lantern, startling and blinding the large yellow eyes of the humanoids. The melee is quick and brutal, with an oil bomb sending one of the creatures reeling over the edge of the stairs, to fall, still burning and meteor-like into the pit. The three other savages fight brutally, their weapons covered in some kind of paralytic, but they are slain quickly, one blasted with the a foul grey rag of necromantic force by Von Lumpwig and the other two hacked and stabbed to death. Amongst the humanoid’s effects the party finds nothing of value, beyond a dubious skin bag filled with large cave crickets. Another cricket cooks slowly on the fire, and Nelson takes it, snacking on the rich nutty meat as the party descends the stairs.

The Black Bastion

The stairs wind one through the hanging jungle, with plants nearly covering the worn steps in some places. However a path remains, continuing downward as both plants and animals become increasingly bioluminescent and strange. Small fish like beasts, floating on reserves of internal gas and glittering from glowing pits along their spines dart amongst spires of pale slime mold grown huge and dripping like molten wax. A snake like creature suddenly flashes a glowing red at the scavengers as they move slowly down the stairs, its entire body glass clear and its bones blazing suddenly with a bioluminescent warning as it slithers off the stairs into sheltering vines.

After thirty minutes of slow descent the scavengers find their progress arrested by the looming black shape of a fortress built astride the stairs from riveted plates of black iron. Rust and spalling deface the huge plates that make up the bastion, but it still appears sound. The stairs vanish through an open gate in the fortresses’ front wall, an unforgiving slab flanked by a short tower pierced with metal shuttered windows and weapon ports. No light comes from the fort as the party approaches, but rather then walk through the gates they resolve to use Kissy Face the undead worm to ferry their grapple and rope to the roof. Climbing the side of the tower the scavengers meet no resistance and soon they stand on the bastion’s battlements. A spiral stair, wrought in geometric shapes winds down into the tower, it’s central support doubling as some sort of chimney.

Descending the scavengers find a nearly empty room, filled with rust flakes and dust with an iron door leading deeper into the fortress. The only item of interest in the room is the column of the stairs, which bells out into a decorative stove in the shape of a man’s horned face with sharp teeth and a plaited beard. The mouth of the carving is a brazier of some kind and the chimney above is engraved with strange runes. Nelson investigates the runes with his magical skills, waving his wand in shimmering arcs which slowly transform the runes into normal writing. The chimney and brazier are a shrine to Ishum, a fire god and they ask the god to protect the fortress, and make each man into a forge of truth. The prayer also promises that Ishum’s truth will be manifest if the god is fed the essence of his essence. Despite the cryptic nature of the prayer, Nelson tries to follow it, pouring a pint of oil into the brazier and lighting it to no effect.

Leaving the Shrine a mystery, Mr. Groob cautiously pushes the door in the tower’s Eastern wall ajar and it opens slowly, rust grinding in its hinges. The chamber beyond was once a barracks now smashed and splotched with the ominous pollution of rose colored lichen. Beneath a decayed and moldered red banner in the center of the room stand ten humanoid figures. Appearing to be partially bone and partially skinless pink muscle the circle of abominations stands silently facing inward, still clad in rusted black metal scale armor. Groob shuts the door and the scavengers resolve to act. After converting all their remaining whale oil flasks into firebombs, the clumsy Anzio flings open the door while the other scavenger’s led by Mr. Groob fling a barrage of smoking missiles. Von Lumpwig throws his bomb high and it shatters beyond the circle of reanimated horrors, but the other three scavenger’s bombs fly true and the lurid flames char consume several of the creatures, even as they turn towards the party and scuttle forward. Slamming the door and setting a large iron bar the adventurers wait silently, straining their ears for any sign that their enemies remain beyond the portal. The thick walls and iron plate of the fortress drown out all noise however, and when Groob opens the door to check, he is assailed by the remaining five of the abominations. Mr. Groob falls back beyond the door, joined by Briney, and the pair ply their polearms against the shambling dead. Now in melee it is clear that what first appeared to be muscle, clinging to the abominations’ limbs is in fact some sort of pinkish fungal growth, aping the limbs of mankind and bringing a semblance of life to the long dead skeletons.

Though a pair of the fungal zombie are destroyed, one taking the hooked blade of Groob’s weapon in the eye, and another immolated in a puddle of flaming oil Von Lumpwig shatters on the floor beyond the melee, the remaining three press on, and overcome Briney’s Defense, the gladiator is pulled helplessly into the mass of horrors, and with a sickening sound they proceed to snap his limbs and gnaw out his throat. With the scavenger’s defensive position broken, a zombie surges into the room to be spitted by Anzio and slashed by his elemental companion’s crystal fists. Nelson also scurries backward, trying to land a blow while stabbing one of his stilts like a spear. The fight is still desperate and an unexpected figure flings himself forward to fill the gap left by Briney’s death. VonLumpwig, howling and reeking of chicken grease plys his dagger with an untrained fury, slashing again and again at the rubbery flesh of his attacker and somehow managing to fend off the zombie’s unnatural strength.

The remaining two fungal zombies are eventually brought down, but in the fury of combat none of the scavengers know who destroyed them. Groob is lacerated, and Anzio’s wounds from the earlier skirmish with the white humanoids have reopened while VonLumpwig is a mess, unhurt but covered in flensed bits of vile pink fungus. Even Nelson is panting in the corner, his welder’s mask askew and his hair hanging lank. Briney is dead, his body ripped by and already being speckled by pink fungus. The scavenger’s search the chamber quickly, too battered to continue their expedition and discover a chunky silver ring engraved with runes, as well as a chestplate made of some kind of light, flexible black material. The plate is ebonite, a miraculous form of magically vulcanized gutta percha, and it is both strong enough to stop bullets and blades and light enough to be worn under clothing as a form of concealed armor. Taking their treasures, and Briney’s body, the scavengers step out of the bastion and climb the stairs a safe distance before signaling the stewards above with their blue flares and returning to Sterntown.

Treasure Recovered

Obsidian Snake/Demon idol– 1,000 Gp

Chunky Silver and Platinum ring of Blackgang manufacture– 300 Gp

Strange Objects

Satchel of Air Clams– Tasty but lacking in value, they aren’t a common species, but they are known and raised in Sterntown.

Skin bag containing two foot long cave crickets - Makes a decent celebratory snack when fried in oil with a few handfuls of mushrooms.

Note: Considering the gusto the party collected snacks with, you can all take 5GP off your upkeep costs for next session on account of the filling cricket in clam sauce meal you were able to have prepared upon your return to the Rustgates.

Eight bone charms– Bone charms are identifiable non-magical, worthless and as being of Ghula make. The description of the tall pallid humanoids you encountered also matches that of Ghula, cannibal creatures of sub-human intelligence, superhuman strength, exquisite cruelty and paralytic spit.

Magic Items Discovered

Ebonite Vest– A formfitting chestplate like undergarment of mystically treated black rubber, this concealed armor is both flexible and very hard to pierce. The item requires no armor proficiency to wear, can be hidden under normal armor and provides a plus+2 to Ac as long as the wearer’s Ac is less than 14 (e.g. assuming a normal dexterity, the vest provides plus+1 Ac bonus to a wearer in light armor or a plus 2 to an unarmored wearer.

So Dungeons & Dragons just released it's 5th edition. I've read the PDF and tried to figure out what people have to say about it. I have heard some things, people playing it, people being excited. Mostly though this is drowned out by obnoxious whining about some personalities involved in 5th edition's production. Blah, seriously this hobby is far far to small for that sort of juvenile stupidity.

So rather then say anymore on the profound amount of stupid I see of late - here's a character sheet that should work for 5e. It lacks equipment, and the two additional pages, the spell page and the genre fiction about you character page. Equipment lists can be useful, and I wish I could have fit it, same with a spell list - maybe those should be on a next page, but I don't need a page of background to run a character - characters develop their stories through play.

I've gone with the most non-5th edition style I could, I've tried to make this look sort of Games Workshop mid-80's.

deep caRbon observAtory

I have read Patrick of False Machine’s Deep Carbon Observatory, an adventure, or setting, or even campaign.The module compares favorably with other contemporary offerings, such as the better LOTFP modules, but has its own approach and unique feel. The adventure focuses on a riverine expedition in a sort of point based sandbox, suddenly flooded by the collapse of an ancient dam. Rumors of mountains of ancient gold beneath the recently collapsed dam’s (now drained) lake have presumably drawn the party, as they have other (horrible) NPC treasure hunters. Beyond the dung-ages horror of a flooded and starving landscape is an upriver journey through a variety of creepy nautical monsters (crabs, cuttlefish, pike, frogs) all subtly warped and horrifically described. The journey leads to the dam, its dying guardian golems and ultimately a lake bed of ancient and unnatural weirdness that hides the “Deep Carbon Observatory” itself. The observatory is an entrance to the Underdark, and not Gygax’s glowing mushrooms and petulant Drow Underdark, but False Machine’s utterly alien, beautifully psychotic Underdark.

A Suitable Cover

Broken into four rough sections (A town, a point crawl, the dam/lake, and the observatory) Deep Carbon has plenty of room for adventure, and the only limit on this is the presumed success of a very nasty NPC party if the PCs don’t push onward at a furious pace. I like the scale of the adventure, especially because so many of the individual vignettes presented are compelling enough that I think a group of players could enjoyably spend at least a session on many of them. This makes me ambivalent about the NPC party, who while one of the best (ok one of many wonderful) elements in the adventure could act to force the players’ hands. The NPC party and its place in Deep Carbon Observatory is also somewhat hard to pin down without some page flipping, but that's a minor concern, and their inclusion creates a powerful and compelling enemy for the party.

Ultimately Deep Carbon Observatory is a thought provoking and wonderful adventure, almost novelistic in its scope and strangeness. The author drops magnificent ideas and imagery haphazardly on every page of a quality that many adventure designer would convert into an entire campaign. Additionally there are some novel approaches to town encounters in the first section of the adventure that are thought provoking as a means of creating tension, and cause and effect without minimizing player agency. Sadly Deep Carbon Observatory suffers a bit from a slavishness to the DIY aesthetic and a lack of polish, but other than some aggravating page transitions this is easily ignored. Additionally, the module’s scope makes it feel fragmentary (perhaps unavoidable given its size) at times and it repeatedly includes the lamentable sin of confusing maps.

stoRy

The reader of Deep Carbon Observatory will need to tease the story out of the text and tables that the adventure immediately pours forth. There is an ancient dam at the head of a river that is rumored to hide the valuable secrets of an ancient civilization. The adventurers arrive at the river mouth in the aftermath of the dam’s failure, meaning that the lost treasures are now free for the taking, but that the region is devastated. The flood has created complications, mainly masses of desperate, starving refugees and a drowned land covered in strange monstrous life. The town of Carrowmore is dying in a frenzy and walking into it the party will be confronted with a series of situations that they will need to resolve.

The mechanic here is worth mentioning, as it appears useful for creating scenes of wild energy and action where the party is only a small part of a larger situation (like a battle perhaps). The events of Carrowmere are provided as three columns of encounters, each of which will evolve if the players don’t intervene. Stepping into Carrowmere the party will find all three before them (a man dragging a his dead wife from the river, a drowning priest swept from upriver, and a raft of wailing children about to be lost in the flood). How the players interact with these events will have consequences in the adventure, introduces individual NPCs (the ones whose plight is ignored tend to die) and provides rumors, hooks and clues. The hopelessness and human scale of the situation is also noteworthy, as regardless of player actions some bad events occur. I want to point out that human scale here as it runs through the adventure. Dragons of Despair, and Dragonlance in general, has a similar apocalyptic feel, but fails partially because it remains at the level of epic heroism, and uses human tragedy as background dressing. Deep Carbon Observatory never does that and the characters will make moral choices that feel very real but are ultimately tragic. For example, saving a 5D8 orphans and a school teacher in Carrowmere has no positive effect, except perhaps to drain character resources, but I don't see many players who won't be drawn to do it. A latter example involves a roc, dying in a horrible fashion, and while it can be saved, the giant predatory bird remains a giant predatory bird.

Navigating the tragedy of Carrowmere, the party will obtain a boat to head up the overflowing river. The flooded land is blanketed with various strange and grotesque point encounters, my favorite being a field of giant toads, so bloated from eating the drowned that they will burst open if struck forcefully. This encounter is typical of the adventure, a very visual description of a strangely bleak and horrific event, written in an economical and evocative way, with only a bare stat line and a simple situational rule or two to set the scene. Encounters and descriptions might seem perversely terse at first glance, but the information is sufficient and the minimal writing so rich that any GM could run these encounters. The paucity of stats and mechanics might also benefit Deep Carbon Observatory, as it seems easily adaptable to other systems, and its focus on interactions other than combat with both monsters and desperate NPCs might appeal to people who play some of the more modern variations on tabletop roleplaying. A Torchbearer conversion of Deep Carbon Observatory for example might result in something so weirdly horrific and bleak that it would transcend that system’s meta-game with wonderment and sadness.

After wandering the drowned lands and uncovering some mysteries there is a dungeon tomb filled with ancient guardians, traps and strange treasure, followed by another small point crawl across the reservoir beyond. There are factions among the former lake dwellers to help or hinder and the remnants of an ancient civilization to marvel at. Among these relics is the entrance to the Deep Carbon Observatory, a giant stalactite that juts into the under dark, and once acted as a trading post/scientific exchange between the surface and the deep empires of Drow and dark dwarves. The observatory has many secrets and every room contains strange and wonderful things to plunder, interact with or avoid. I am intentionally limiting my discussion of this section (and the rest of the module) because reading Deep Carbon Observatory and discovering its bizarre, compelling encounters page after page is a great deal of fun, made more enjoyable by piecing together the mysteries involved. It might be worth noting that the title of the module is taken from an international science project that seeks to understand life and energy cycles in inhospitable places such as the depths of the ocean and interior of the earth.

suCCesSES

Deep Carbon Observatory is filled with evocative and wonderful writing. The setting is strange and bleak, but in such a novel way that it doesn’t feel clichéd. Deep Carbon Observatory compares favorably with the better of the LOTFP adventures but lacks the feeling of a slasher or horror movie that these adventures can sometimes give, focusing on the weird and strange more than the gory or horrific - It creates wonder and tension rather than fear and anxiety. Yet, even with this tone, Deep Carbon Observatory is relentlessly bleak, and while the players may do heroic deeds, saving some of the troubled people of Carrowmere in the long run, during the course of the adventure there are many tragic situations where the players assistance will provide little help and deplete their resources to almost no benefit. Not everyone can be saved, and saving some will ultimately lead to greater trouble.

With the quality of the writing and evocative encounters it is no surprise that the treasures, traps, monsters and especially the magic items within Deep Carbon Observatory are of great quality. I especially enjoyed the magical items as they are unique, inventively useful, and not extremely powerful. The art, by Scrap Princess in her unique scribbled style, is also great and while it won’t appeal to everyone, it certainly compliments the writing and general sensibility of Deep Carbon Observatory.

Monster design in Deep Carbon Observatory is generally excellent, using a few standbys, especially undead, and reskinning or creating new monsters for almost every encounter. Notably these aren’t full designs of strange beasts, but largely simple descriptive tweaks with minimal stat lines and an occasional special power. Such monster modifications are great, as they provide enough uniqueness to keep the players wondering about what they face, but don’t demand incredible descriptive skills of the GM.

PrOblems

Despite my affection for the creators of Deep Carbon Observatory it has troubles. I don’t want to make these troubles into anything big but I want to address them out of fairness to future buyers.

First, there is something a bit goofy about Deep Carbon Observatory’s layout. I don’t mind the giant text and oddly sized pages so much, or even the fair number of typographical errors (I have a fair number of that sort of flaw in my own PDFs, but then mine are free). The real problem is that Deep Carbon Observatory’s design is sometimes hard to use. Part of the issue is that there is so much and such varied content, but part is poor design choices and execution. Finding things within the PDF is hard, and while in actual play this might not matter so much as players will move slowly through the adventure in distinct sections, the module definitely demands a great deal of GM prep to run to keep the sections and sessions of play part of a whole. Each five pages/three encounters might provide a session of gaming, but these fragments need to be placed within the module’s larger context and the text largely fails to facilitate this.

While the problems of layout and usability are minimal, the maps provided in Deep Carbon Observatory are frustrating and flawed. Nicely drawn in the style of pencil sketches, largely isometric and evocative enough to provide an overall sense of the keyed location, they are nearly impossible to read because of size and because the keying is hand drawn in the same sketchy style as the rest of the map. This itself would be forgivable if the maps weren’t attempting to visually describe complex areas, spanning multiple levels and with many traps that depend on location and space. The elevation map of the Observatory itself is pretty, useful and interesting, but difficult to read, and a lack of a supplementary traditional ‘top down’ maps turn it, and the other dungeon areas, into chains of rooms and encounters that are hard to connect together as a meaningful whole. This may be a general problem with complex, vertically interesting maps, but Deep Carbon Observatory doesn’t make much effort to solve it.

Maps are important in published adventures as by reviewing them and placing the keyed locations in context with each other the GM can understand the flow of the module, the purpose of and interrelations within it and perhaps an ecology. These factors allow adaption and pacing at the table, and without them a module can become a string of unconnected encounters. As a general theory I think isometric maps are rarely ideal, because despite their appearance of 3D it is hard to actually layer multiple levels atop one another without creating an unreadable and tangled mess. Isometric maps look great, but only really seem to work for relatively simple structures or those with widely placed rooms and in almost all cases an isometric map is best supplemented by a traditional top down map. Similarly, elevation maps are very useful at defining the interrelation of complex vertical spaces but they don’t allow much detail or depth on the individual levels unless they are coupled with more traditional maps. I do hope that Patrick and Scrap Princess will provide a supplemental map pack for Deep Carbon Observatory, because this would greatly improve the module, and such maps are not hard to make or difficult to find artists for.

conclusion

While I may complain about certain aspects of Deep Carbon Observatory, most of these are technical or design related. I don’t want to minimize my complaints because my frustration with these shortcomings is enough to make me think it would be hard to run this adventure without a great deal of work, but at the same time Deep Carbon Observatory represents the best of the contemporary DIY/older D&D scene. It is imaginative, evocative, presents haunting wondrous imagery, demands that the players make ethical decisions with consequences, and provides many opportunities for participatory world building. The clumsy editing and layout are completely forgivable in this light, even charming (what is the Dex of the sinister NPC leader? You decide!), but I still I simply cannot forgive the lack of good maps, especially in light of the complex spaces Deep Carbon Observatory thrives on. None of these errors matter, because I have absurdly high standards for paid published content, and because Deep Carbon Observatory is some sort of beautiful Frankenstien’s monster grafted from: B4-Lost City, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and Death Frost Doom (albeit where the party can actually prevent the final horror – they won’t but they might). The module wins me over, and even if I can’t run it (not because of its flaws, but because of my own entrenched campaign settings) I can plunder it for so much amazing content: magical items, npcs, treasure, monsters, location imagery, and an approach to tension building town encounters. What I mean is, buy this thing if you want to make you game more interesting, because reading it will give a GM ideas, even a GM who finds the vanilla new 5e content proper and compelling.

I've Long claimed that my HMS Apollyon game at least a good part about negotiating the characters' place amongst the factions in its "safe" area. In the past I've done this primarily via roleplaying encounters and a vague sense of how each faction feels about the PCs. I've tried to transform this into a more mechanical system that allows something more than simple GM whim to determine what a specific faction might provide and how a character may gain that faction's favor.

Below is an excerpt from the Players manual I am slowly piecing together that explains how the reputation system functions. The link to the full PDF from the manual is also below and contains a great deal of additional information about the individual factions of Sterntown. It's pretty much a gazetteer of Sterntown so it may be of some interest.

PDF OF REPUTATION, FACTION & MORALITY PORTION OF THE HMS APOLLYON MANUAL

MORALITY & REPUTATION

Sterntown is a place of painful scarcity and great wealth, with a wide disparity between the two. The armored elevators to Uptown are guarded below by the best equipped of Steward units, and above by shackled devils and the fierce house guards of the great Passenger houses. The rookeries and favelas of Pickbone Square and the Rust Gates are equally well protected by the legions of the demimonde, from Vory enforcers to the shamanistic fighting moieties of Frogtown. Despite the abundance of distrust and armed factions, Sterntown has not collapsed into civil war, and the social and economic pressures are locked in an odd equilibrium. The Fishers, Tillers and Froglings produce food that the factors can, preserve and distribute. Factors and craftsmen maintain the old machines and produce new goods from raw materials that the Scavengers recover from the hull. The Vory and Stewards both keep lawlessness to a minimum and insure so variety of fair dealings. The Passengers’ sorceries and Stewards’ guns are respected as protection against outside forces, and as much as the various classes and organizations within the city hate or fear each other, they also recognize their interdependence.

The heart of survival in Sterntown is knowledge of where one fits into its hierarchy and who one can count on for protection, succor and identity. Reputation and faction respect are in many ways more important than wealth (though not unrelated) as almost regardless of personal power an unaligned individual will be prey for everyone from urchin gangs seeking to draw the sponsorship of the local Vory to Al Ghuli summoners in need of a soul offering for their otherworldly allies. Conversely the most savage and greedy Steward Brute Squad is more likely to tip their hats then beat and rob a gold bearing messenger in the livery of a Factor combine, and even the writhing tattoos of a Krab Brother Lieutenant stand for something among the Houses of Uptown.

Morality

There is no alignment in the traditional table top game sense aboard the Apollyon. Certain groups may forbid actions or approve of others, but the players will have to act as their character’s moral compass. There is draconian law within Sterntown that covers the normal laws of civilization and on the books it’s relatively egalitarian. However, the main enforcers of morality and law among the crew caste are the Vory syndicates, while the Stewards maintain bare social order. Both of these groups have their own idea of right and wrong, and while they generally behave respectably enough toward individuals affiliated with and protected by Sterntown’s various factions, both groups can be violent and destructive if their authority is challenged, and exploitive of those who they perceive as weak, unprotected or acting beyond their place in the social hierarchy.

Despite the relative lack of honest law enforcement on the streets of Sterntown, there are courts, located in the Steward’s fortress, the Bleeding Gaol, where private parties may bring actions against each other or defend themselves against criminal charges. Both civil and criminal courts are reserved for individual of wealth or power, especially those whose disputes might cause social unrest, while crimes by lesser folks, or those committed in less wealthy areas are dealt with more summarily. Strangely this maintains a social order in Sterntown, with the factions’ power balancing to keep the town relatively peaceful and business reasonable honest.

The only law universally enforced regardless of class or wealth is a strict prohibition on the arts of necromancy. Those accused of necromantic magic are generally fined of all wealth, and impressed into the scavengers on even the slightest shred of evidence. Those who are convicted of necromancy are cast into or from the hull after being subjected to elinguationto prevent spell use.

Reputation

Reputation is a form of currency in Sterntown. Characters can build reputation with certain factions (at the cost of reputation with others) and use reputation to do many useful things such as gaining access to better equipment and hiring competent henchman. Reputation is tracked as a simple modifier, of -5 to +5 with each point of reputation acting as a bonus or penalty on the standard 2D6 reaction roll. Remember CHR bonuses or penalties also modify this roll.

2 or less	3	4	5	6	7	8	9	10	11	12 or more
violent	angry	threat	warning	guarded	Neutral	neutral	positive	helpful	amicable	friendly

These reactions define the general feelings of the NPC encountered. A pack of Crayhounds that has an amicable reaction may give the adventures sporting warning with a display of clattering claws, allowing them a chance to run before the hounds tear the scavengers to pieces, while a violent reaction from a shopkeeper will be to refuse service and possibly call the Stewards or local enforcers.

Earning Reputation

Earning Reputation is not an exact process as reputation points are awarded like treasure or experience based on in game events, but each faction has some default ways to earn or repair basic reputation.

Donation: Providing Money or goods is an excellent way to improve one’s relationship with and prove ones value to a group. Often donation will be labeled something else: religious tithe, membership dues or “the vig”.

Mission: Doing meaningful favors, confounding or destroying enemies, recovering artifacts and information from the hull and generally furthering the goals of a faction is almost always a way to gain status and reputation.

Loyalty: Higher levels of reputation will require the character to pledge loyalty to the specific faction, renouncing all other factions (reducing one’s reputation with all other factions to 2, though it may be regained). Specific Factions will have more or less elaborate rituals associated with this level of reputation, Vory tattooing, religious conversion or even dynastic marriage. A character may only be loyal to one faction at a time.

The level of reputation needed a declaration of Loyalty is also effectively the reputation a character can advance to in a faction through membership with an friendly faction.

Status: There are some factions that won’t trust an individual beyond a certain level regardless of their behaviours or loyalty unless they are a certain type of person. Most relgions are less receptive to aiding lay members then clergy, and racial factions such as the Uptown families and Frogtown are xenophobic to lesser or greater degrees.

Friends and Enemies: Reputation has a cascading effect, as factions are allied and opposed to each other, in general, for every two points of reputation with one faction a positive and negative point of ‘unearned’ reputation is added with other factions. This sort of reputation is of course capped at the level an organization demands “Loyalty” from its adherents as an individual may only be loyal to one faction at a time.

Spending Reputation

Reputation is a currency, and the greater reputation one has with a faction the more likely that faction is two help. There are generally two ways to use Reputation points, wagering or spending them for boons. Wagering means that the character presents his or her credentials as a friend or member of the faction and asks for a boon. The GM makes a reaction roll adding or subtracting any reputation over/under the number required to buy access to a specific boon and any Charisma bonus or penalty. On a result better then ‘neutral’ (8 or above) the petition is granted and the reputation point preserved. On a roll of neutral or less (7 or less) the character has offended the faction and loses the reputation point without gaining any benefit.

Purchasing boons with reputation is easier, a point of reputation may be exchanged for the boon once the character has enough reputation to qualify. Once in possession of a boon reputation may be spent in lieu of gold to hire henchmen, obtain spells or purchase items at a value of 1,000 GP per point of reputation spent (thus a suit of full plate costs 3 reputation points). Once gained boons can only be lost if the character drops below a reputation of one with the faction, or renounces it.

Specific boons vary from faction to faction, and their quality does as well, but general types are as follows from easiest to hardest to obtain:

Information: Access to the knowledge and rumors available to the faction. This almost always includes sage services, though the ability of faction sages will depend on the type of knowledge sought and the nature of the faction. I.E. Vory sages will be able to cheaply and easily provide information on poisons, but are unlikely to be much help in unraveling diabolic spells scrolls.

Armory and Equipment: Access to the specialized equipment of the faction including higher quality weaponry and armor then is normally available.

Normal Henchmen: 1^st level henchman capable of leveling, with appropriate skills and equipment related to the faction may be hired for 50GP a session these henchmen have a base loyalty of 7 as opposed to 5. If too many faction henchmen die or if they are used callously it may affect the character’s reputation with the faction.

Intervention: Faction leaders will intervene with other factions on behalf of the character to protect them from repercussions, arrange meetings or negotiate deals.

Spells: Faction will provide access to its unique spell knowledge and instruction in special magical disciplines

Specialists and Craftsmen: The ability to use faction prestige to have the best sorts of equipment and armaments manufactured or procured. It also includes faction specialists such as enchanters or healers.

Elite Henchmen: The ability to hire specialist henchmen, usually for a ½ share of loot from an expedition or 500GP per level. These henchmen include both specialists such as magsmen, and simply powerful faction members. In general such elite henchmen will be of a level one less than the hiring character. Such elite henchman take pride in their skills and have a base loyalty of 10.

Soldiery: The ability to hire one or more squads of military type assistance from the faction. These squads will generally work for 100 GP each season for guard duty and the like, but may demand more for combat against monstrous foes, entering unknown areas of the hull or otherwise taking greater risks. Most factions will not allow the use of their soldiers for tasks that do not benefit the faction.

Artifacts: Many factions have access to collections of unique or magical items, and the use of these objects is limited to the faction’s most valued members.

DEEP CARBON OBSERVATORY MAPS

A few posts ago I lamented the fact that the excellent adventure Deep Carbon Observatory (link to purchase on RPGNOW) lacked classic top down maps, because it was hard for me to visualize running a couple of its areas using only the elevation or isometric maps provided. Since I like the adventure, like drawing maps, like the author, like the artist and especially like the strange and evocative environment that the adventure manages to create without departing too far from a standard fantasy world, I have decided to draft maps for the Deep Carbon Observatory.

I chose the adventure’s ultimate destination and location because it seemed the most complex and most in need of reference. This becomes especially true as there’s a good chance that the observatory will end up being run as a chase. The map is nicely set up for this, with only a few dead ends and many loops.

I was not able to replicate the measurements described in the adventure itself, as these would make some areas very very small and others oddly huge. Instead I tried to keep my scale in line with that of the elevation map.

DCO - Lvl 1

Level 1 – AREAS 1,2 , 26 and 39 – 44

DCO - Lvl 2

Level 2 AREAS 3-12, 26 – 28

DCO - Lvl 3

Level 3 RIGHT STALACTITE, AREAS 13 -17

DCO - Lvl 4

Level 4 RIGHT STALACTITE, AREAS 18 -21

DCO lvl 5

Level 5 AREAS 22 – 25, 29

DCO - Lvl 6

Level 6 LEFT STALACTITE, AREAS 30 -32

DCO - Lvl 6

Level 7 LEFT STALACTITE, AREAS 33 -34

DCO - Level 8

Level 8 LEFT STALACTITE, AREAS 35-37

DCO - Lvl 9

Level 9 LEFT STALACTITE, AREA 38

As the new campaign running the HMS Apollyon begins to happen regularly I've started trying to complete sections of my player guide as they are needed. It's not an easy process. Still below is the subclass/aptitude page for the Engineer. Engineers have proven popular amongst players, I think as they fit with the aesthetic of the game, but they have proven to be interesting and useful in their own right. The ability to catch a third target in the splash from an oil bomb is reasonably potent, and while the Engineering skill hasn't come up in play yet, I believe it will have as much or more benefit as the skills traditionally given to dwarfs in other games. The Apollyon has two interlocking skill systems: skills, borrowed from LOTFP, are based on a X in D6 chance, while Aptitudes are a tiered system that grants specific bonuses (and often skills). The Engineer is a fighter subclass that has more skills then general modifiers and doesn't become as effective in melee as other fighter types will - except under the specialized circumstances of wearing, heavy, unwieldy power armor or operating a piece of crew served heavy weaponry.

As with my other Player's Guide items the Engineer is also available here as a PDF

Engineer

The long tradition of the use of mechanical and technological weapons by the humans of the HMS Apollyon is fading as the factories and other means of production amidship have slowly worn down or been conquered by other races of humanoids, outsiders and even the ship’s own automatons. The arts of explosives, mechanics and the use of heavy weapons are in decline now, though they still appeal to many warriors out of practicality. Engineers are an asset on the battlefield and supporting other troops as they can better understand the artificial environment of the Apollyon (With Engineering), direct crews of heavy weapons, plant explosives and use war machines (With Piloting). Some skill in Engineering is required to repair any generation of Boilermail while piloting is necessary to properly operate it.

Tier 1	Grenadier – All area effect weapons, such as explosives, oil bombs or artillery gain an additional point of ‘splash’ meaning they can effect another target. Engineering - 2, Piloting - 2 , Force – 3
Tier 2	Boilermail Pilot – Experience piloting or even a better understanding of and constant tinkering on any suit of boiler mail the Engineer has access to will grant the Engineer +1/per die to melee damage while piloting boilermail or similar powered armor. Additionally long practice and experience with explosives and heavy weapons means that should the engineer fumble with a heavy weapon or explosive any damage inflicting fumble will be treated as a jammed/dud weapon result. Engineering - 3, Piloting – 3
Tier 3	Scarred Veteran – The powder burned face of the dedicated engineer is a mark of deeper reserves of toughness and resistance resulting from years of labor and toil around heavy and unforgiving machines and deadly explosives. The Engineer has become somewhat inured to pain and minor inconveniences gaining +1 HP per die and a -1/per die to fire and electricity damage. Engineering - 4, Piloting – 4
Tier 4	Boilermail Ace – The Engineer has become almost one with their power armor or artillery and is able to squeeze unexpected heights of performance out of even the balkiest suit or most cumbersome cannon. Engineer gains a +1 hit with boilermail and targets of heavy weapons or explosives used, planted or crewed by the Engineer receive a -1 to save vs. their effects. Additionally the Engineer has become so adept that they no longer receive any initiative penalty while operating powered armor or heavy weapons. Engineering – 5, Piloting - 5

Engineering: Engineering is a specialized but broad skill relating to the use, repair and understanding of technological items and structures. Aboard the Apollyon an Engineering test is appropriate in a wide variety of circumstances such as investigating the structural integrity, age and peculiarities of almost any environment, repairing malfunctioning or damaged mechanical devices, demolitions, and bomb or other explosive disposal.

Piloting:Piloting represents the ability to properly use and understand mechanical vehicles, especially boilermail. In the context of boilermail use piloting skill provides a bonus to suit reliability on a point for point basis.

Recently the Tenkar's Tavern wrapped up a competition called OSR Superstar. Perhaps it's a silly name but I figured I'd enter and managed to keep going until the final round. The final round was completing a map by Matt over at msjx.org (who's Maps for Heroes campaign is wrapping up today and could use some support - it's got some cool maps in it and supports the Wounded Warrior project) and then keying it. I finished a map but went a bit beyond my original intent. Below is a 42 page adventure set in the Fallen Empire setting that I've mused about here before. It's a fairly vanilla setting, and stated up for Sword's and Wizardy Complete. Anyhow hope people like this adventure - it's a romp about bandits, cults and slumber ancient war machines.

ALONG THE ROAD OF TOMBS

This version is far better edited then the one submitted to the contest, and I've added some art - sadly no my own, but some of the plates by Piranesi that inspired this adventure. Also special thanks to the folks who took a look at this a few days ago and let me know what else I might want to include.

How does one review an adventure that is designed to be different each time it’s played? B1 – In Search of the Unknown, written in 1979 by Mike Carr for inclusion in the D&D basic set, is exactly such a module, with partially keyed areas on a large dungeon map meant to be completed by the GM from existing tables. In not sure if this represents an authentic alternative to the method of adventure writing that has become standard, a template for a GM’s own design and imagination (perhaps like the recently released Seclusium of the Orphone an LOTFP ‘module’ by Vincent Baker) rather than a complete pregenerated ready to play location or scenario. It might also be a messy gimmick that failed to catch on. Without a consideration of its place in the history of table top games, In Search of the Unknown has some fun set pieces, and a good setting and a far more evocative setting than one might expect from such an early effort. The module is an unabashed dungeon crawl and one that, in the manner of early D&D, is fairly empty of inhabitants and treasure, but not a bad once thanks to some classic but well done setting elements and a real dungeon history that is both easy to grasp and helpful at defining areas.

The cover I remember promised Fungal Caverns

A STARTING MODULE

Like many of the TSR introductory products, In Search of the Unknown leads off with a few pages of advice about running a game. The advice in B1 is similar to that in B2 but a bit more wordy and focused on the areas or retainers, time keeping and party organization. This advice is all pretty solid, as is the general sense that the dungeon should be “fair” and “challenging” which will undoubtedly lead to character deaths. Yet there is nothing novel in this advice, though maxims like “First, it is crucial to keep in mind that this is a game based on player interaction and player choice” still seem worthy of repetition.

The inevitability of character death is something that the older game seems to have embraced, thinking of characters less as individual avatars to express the players’ concept of their fantastical selves, and more as game pieces. I personally like this view, but recognize the difficulty in it, players grow attached to their characters, especially as they do cool things and grow in stature from in game experiences. Personally the disposable hero is hard for me to play, but definitely the idea of the party as the central narrative character in a tabletop game can help, as might the use of a ‘company’ style game with a pool of characters to draw from shared amongst the players.

One other element worth noting is that B1 has a nice long list of hireling names by class and some of these are great. Personally I would love to spring an NPC cleric on a party named “Famed of the Great Church” or “Seeful the Unforgiving”. Included with these names are stat lines that look very normal for 3D6 in order characters and a nice little trait generator for hirelings.

THE ADVENTURE

A pair of adventuring types, a fighter and a wizard, poured their plundered treasure into building a strange underground fortress they named “Quasqueton”. It’s not clear if the adventures were good or evil, they were cruel and greedy, but did save the region around their fortress more than once. Eventually the adventurers disappeared in an ill-considered attack on distant barbarians. Quasqueton remains, and is a popular destination for treasure hunters as its labyrinthine passages represent 20 years of obsessive building, and it is rumored to hold the treasures of its former masters.

That’s it, a flimsy seeming premise, but quite a solid one allowing the dungeon to have some flavor as an abandoned home to powerful adventures, the central mystery of its former residents’ alignment, goals and pasts to investigate and the added flavor of the remains of various expeditions.

Quasqueton itself is two levels, the first of long looping corridors and scattered rooms, many hidden by secret doors, and the second a set of caves. One of the key elements of B1 is that the adventure is set up to be stocked by the individual referee. This makes it hard to describe the exact encounters or rooms to a degree as every use of B1 is going to be different. There are a few special chambers: the room of pools, a magical stone and cavern of agitated bats that are interesting and well place, but the majority of the adventure will depend on how the referee prepares. Some rooms, like a cave full of webs call out for certain types of encounters, but the majority of them could be filled by random treasure and monter placement. Yet this would be a mistake, as the monster list is more a funhouse of classic low level beasts in small numbers, and treasure list mostly items of low value.

There is no real goal or purpose to exploring the fortress of Quasqueton besides adventure and plunder, and unraveling the lives of its residents offers little reward. This isn’t a bad thing, there’s a purity to a plain dungeon crawl, and it’s done properly with Quasqueton in that the past of the place is clearly visible in its current state. Unfortunately, the random monster and treasure placement provides for neither evocative monsters nor treasure (though some of the treasure is decently described and I like the inclusion of the poorly drawn map) and far too much magic treasure compared to the paucity of mundane items.

THE GOOD

AS mentioned above I like the premise of B1, Quasqueton has about the right level of mystery associated with it for a well know, sinister spot that has been previously explored. The NPC generator (Especially the names) is also nice, useful enough and most importantly gives the idea that the game isn’t supposed to be some sort of dead serious Tolkien style epic meditation on mythic themes. It’s a tabletop game where characters have silly names and are grubbing for treasure in a dank pit. This alone is a winning inclusion for an introductory module, something that B11 King’s Festival lacks terribly (it being the last of the B-series true introductory modules), and which really sets the whole tone of how D&D is played – a black comedy about luckless and sometimes crafty dungeon delvers or a fantasy epic about serious heroes on a serious battle against ‘evil’. I prefer the first, and the rules don’t seem to support the second. The rumor table itself is large, as it should be and contains some useful rumors, but also holds a few too many dumb false rumors for a location that seems well known and previously explored.

The original cover also promised a mushroom forest

The maps of In Search of the Unknown also look pretty good, the top level doesn’t feel rational exactly for an underground fortress (too many pointless secret doors and winding endless passages) but it makes for a good adventure map and has lots of ways to get from one place to another. There are a few interesting rooms, and many that seem like they might contain interesting secrets (though ultimately few do)The cave map for the second level is rather strong, having two large loops and a few interesting chambers. The maps suffer a bit from their age, the upper one especially resembling something drawn on a single sheet of paper with the mapper giving more effort to filling all the squares than creating a comprehensible space. Still it does a nice job of creating both mapping challenges for a classic game (where player’s must map or get lost) and avoids the mapping pitfall of too much symmetry.

Many of the rooms themselves are quite well done in a weird swords and sorcery sort of way. The Pool Room is especially wonderful and must be the centerpiece of a lot of memories about player D&D. It has enough description and strangeness to feel like exploration and create wonder, while mostly remaining comprehensible. There are some dangerous effects and some beneficial effects, but nothing that will overwhelm the game. Other locations are quite interesting as well, the dangerous, but not deadly trap of the bat chamber, the near impossible to move but valuable statute chamber and the use of various treasure illusions.

THE BAD

B1’s experiment with random stocking seems to be a didactic effort but is more frustrating than useful. While the room descriptions are strong overall, the random or is based stocking mechanic provides a strange set of creatures and treasures with little direction or sense of what is where and why. Rumors hint of a few monsters – troglodytes and guards (presumably berserkers). Yet neither of these monsters features much (berserkers are a mere random encounter). With encounters limited to a few goblins or crab spiders tossed mostly at random into rooms, B1 potentially suffers from too problems that are often associated with older dungeon crawls and come from the lack of any sort of ecological narrative for the dungeon. First there’s the issue of the ‘bad neighbor’s’ problem, where the unrelated and inexplicably placed encounters have no reaction with each other. Goblins in one room wait to be massacred after they have their door busted down, and are unlikely to interact with the bandits or spiders next door. This works fine with unintelligent monsters, dungeon vermin, but even these creatures need sensible placement for best effect. The second issue is a lack of factions, not all monsters should be evil, and if using the reaction roll as it’s suggested in older editions of Basic (such as the one B1 was boxed with) many may even be friendly. In a dungeon where there aren’t real factions or relationships between the denizens it’s hard to come up with non-combat encounters. What do the goblins want that makes them friendly? This problem could be fixed by a decent GM, and maybe the authors of B1 felt it was sufficiently obvious that anyone stocking the fortress would fix it, but at least a few words to that effect, laying out factions and potential relationships, along with more attention to the stocking tables creating a potential theme would have been a great improvement. As it is, the carefully constructed room descriptions and haphazard treasure/encounter design conspire to make Quasquedon feel empty.

Some of the special rooms don't help with this empty feeling. I specifically want to mention the "mushroom forest" because this is one of the coolest ideas in D&D exploration, but B1 just squanders it. There's a cave of fungal oddities, but nothing really to it. The cave contains random plants and is hard to walk through. Eating any of the fungus has a 30% of being poisonous and that's it. I want something more, I want this room to be the equivalent of a Serengeti watering hole, at least. The party enter a huge cave of strange lights and sees various dungeon denizens and factions calmly collecting mushrooms. The horrible monsters ignore the party and each other, as this source of food is too good for any one group to claim and a sort of silent peace rule sit. If the party attacks anyone or even acts too odd they get jumped, because the mushroom forest is also too valuable to allow strangers to endanger and no matter their enmity all the dungeon factions will unit to preserve it. All we get though for this flagship locale is a description and a poison percentage. This alone ruined this module for me as a kid, and it still grates.

The second major problem with B1 is hinted at above in the way it’s placed in the game world. Quasquedon is simply their ready to be looted. IT doesn’t interact with anything outside of itself in any way. It doesn’t raise the threat of a united humanoid army behind an evil cult (like the Caves of Chaos in B2) and it isn’t the locus of strange phenomena and a mystery (Like B3’s Palace of the Silver Princess), Quasquedon simply sits, filled with a few thousand GP worth of treasure waiting to be explored. This isn’t bad, but I would like a few hooks leading out of it, even if it’s just plunder that pulls the party in.

At least there is the vague possibility of Troglodytes

HOW I’D RUN IN SEARCH OF THE UNKOWN

B1 In Search of the Unknown is a perfect hex map filler, it has no background story, provides some clever tricks and is its existence should only need minimal modification to fit most campaign world. No ancient mysteries to unveil, just a former lair of a pair of eclectic and powerful adventurers who are now dead. Most of the changes needed to use B1 result from trying to fix the bland encounters and poor treasure placement created by its novel gestures towards modular adventure design.

I delayed reading this module for reviews as there was talk of a Wampus County ongoing Quasqadon exploration. We had one session which was excellently Wampus County including conversations with a family of Halfling sized hedgehogs and a pack of weird hermit crab things hiding in a nest of junk with domestic detritus as their shells (goblins and giant rats perhaps). A set of marble thrones and some dead monster trophies were looted. It’s noteworthy that these fixtures (both heavy treasure with somewhat low value) were not listed treasure, as B1 is rather sparse on treasure.

This points to the basic change I’d make to B1, a better understanding of what’s valuable and listed values for a lot of the less choice loot in Quasqadon. There are several rooms of preserved supplies and a tool room packed with useful items. While these objects might be heavy, they also must have value and by including them and seriously considering their value a GM can emphasize the other aspect of Quasqadon – it’s already been largely looted and explored. Beside encouraging the party to tear the dungeon apart like copper thieves in an abandoned house (it’s a worthwhile addition to any dungeon delve), limiting treasure to the bulky, the hard to remove, the overlooked and the personal possessions of enemies adds to the feeling that B1 is the remains of a living fortress from recent times and that expeditions to it are more salvaging then tomb plundering.

A lack of easily portable valuables also opens the dungeon up to having lots of evidence of other expeditions. B1 points to this in its first encounter, the remains of an adventuring party and their enemies (berserker guards), but doesn’t really follow it up. I would sprinkle the interior with abandoned camp sites, dead adventurers and equipment. Living adventurers would form either a dangerous random encounter or perhaps even the inhabitants of one of the more defensible chambers, a gang of destructive louts intent on plunder and experience.

Quasqadon needs factions (I know I say this about every dungeon, but it’s still true), and I’d make them locally applicable. The berserker guards hinted at are a good start. Yet to have factions we need setting, and B1 manages not to suggest one, being open to almost any setting, consequently I’d be able to run this in one of my favorite settings – The Land of 1,000 Towers, where the Anomalous Subsurface Environment is located.

With ASE’s world mythology B1 makes a lot of sense, the adventurers who built it were another of the 1,000 wizards who rule the Land of 1,000 Towers, power mad brutes, but better than most, who ruled a domain near the barbarian infested lands of the Worthless North. Denethix’s growing legions would have driven them out eventually, but the two Wizards who ruled Quasqadon decided to head into the waste instead, fighting and seeking to conquer the barbarian hordes and vault dwellers that roam its salt plains and fens. Now abandoned, Quasqadon has few problems for explorers. The first level contains both a band of mercenary dwarfs, led by a young headstrong debtor noble. They are 20 strong and fighting a cruel war of attrition against the narcotics drug crazed remnants of the garrison. One might think the dwarves are a better ally, but given that their leader is a debtor noble, personally holding the indentures of the rest and he’s a neatly mustached greed fueled bastard, but the other dwarves are the worst of their race – unspeakably bloodthirsty and arrogant to non-dwarves and so greedy that they will rob even their allies. The berserkers of course are mad, and confused, but at least they just want to be left alone. In the midst of this there’s a general lack of upkeep and a lot of dungeon vermin, including a band of waste goblins. ASE’s goblins are garden pests of a flesh eating and murderous variety and these are no different. Quasqadon’s first level is a constant warfare with berserker and dwarf fighting, only to have the survivors of these skirmishes picked off by goblins.

The second level is worse, there are more berserkers grown weird and ummm ghoulish in the dark, plus the remnants of the wizard’s efforts to find new allies a variety of newly awakened primitive serpent men. This way the entire B1 is filled with incompetent factions, and is some of them win (dwarfs or serpent men) the place might require a return visit when it either becomes a raiding serpent man hole (with the associated Denethix bounties for serpent man heads) or the base for a clan of dwarves who think nothing of robbing and murdering anyone they come across to increase their credit rating.

B1 is a good module, with strong maps, nice, albeit generic descriptions and a high level of adaptability to any setting. It also encourages exploration and discovery, though it will need work by the GM to make it interesting and might be best served as the introduction to a strange and wonderful setting for players used to more mundane D&D. It also allows itself to be placed as a random hex content, and can easily be adapted to any level of PC (its guards had a nasty lycanthropy outbreak, not just berserking). Still, alone it is bland and a good amount of prep work, without anything to lead to prolonged player interest (no real mysteries or hooks).

I've gone and written up the spell lists for the three Ship Spirit patrons available to thier Clerics aboard the Apollyon. The Lists themselves are in a fromat that doesn't transfer too well to Blogger, but the gist of the casting system is below along with descriptions of the three powers available to 1st level clerics. The spells themselves are in the PDF.

PDF HERE - including actual Spell lists

THE SHIP SPIRITS

The Ship Spirits represent the larger and more popular of Sterntown’s two ecstatic religions. The Religion itself is loosely organized with various devotees banding together to share space in its shrine houses, which contain many shrines and crèches to individual spirits representing the various aspects of the Apollyon itself. Each shrine is tended by one or two houngans or mambos who can invoke aspects of the spirit they specially revere and perform magic based on the spirit’s specific nature.

Collecting spirits, Gaining Power

A houngan or mambo of the ship spirits will begin with a pact to one of the following three major Spirits: The Happy Sailor, The Prime Engine or Winding Gear. At this time the houngan will not be in charge of his own shrine, but will be expected to make donations and bring sacrifices (holy oil, scavenged valuables, and trophies from creatures of chaos) that build up the shrine he helps maintain.

In order to gain the sympathy of more than one spirit (or perhaps additional aspects of the same spirit – it is rumored that the Happy Sailor has a destructive twin know as Tar Barratry) the mambo must build her own shrine to this new deity. The cost of such a shrine is considerable (1,000 GP to gain a place in the Shrine hall, plus at least 1,000 GP per level of the mambo in materials), but more difficult is discovering an object of devotion to house the spirit. Such artifacts can only be scavenged from the hull, though a mambo will surely hear a new spirit calling from within them. Upon building a 2^nd shrine the mambo must both placate her two Spirits with sacrifices of equal value to the cost of the shrine and obtain another houngan or mambo of at least 1^stlevel as a follower to maintain the shrine. Shrines may be built at 3^rd level, a second a 6^thand a third at 9^th.

Invoking The Spirits

The houngan, mambo or shaman calls the power of their patron very differently then the priests of a monastic religion. The Ship Spirits are mercurial and sometimes misunderstand or rejct the pleas of their servants, and it is only a mambo’s force of will that calls them to do her bidding.

At the start of a session, or any time after a day of rest, clerics of an ecstatic religion such as the Ship Spirits perform ritual obsequiences to their patron spirit and channel a specific entity’s power until another set of rituals are performed (assuming the houngan or mambo has contact with multiple spirits). Once in touch, or ridden, by the Ship Spirit patron the cleric can call its power at will, casting any of the spells the specific spirit is offers. The effort to invoke a spirit’s power is a difficult one however, often failing and occasionally back firing to harm the houngan. To invoke a specific spell the cleric must roll a D20 +WIS Bonus + Level and meet or surpass the invocation number listed with the spell. A normal failure (less than 5 under the target number) means that the houngan wasted his efforts but may try again in the next round or turn. A catastrophic failure (5 or more under the target, and anytime a natural ‘1’ is rolled) will have negative effects most likely to prevent additional casting, at least for a while.

The Happy Sailor

The Happy Sailor is the great Ancestor spirit of the crew, and the souls of all crew caste humans who have died aboard the Apollyon over the eons are gathered in the Sailor’s merry mess for eternity. The Sailor is a largely helpful spirit, easily enticed with rum or promises to aid one’s fellow crew, and appears more often (either as a spectral sailor or in mortal disguise) then other spirits. He is not unalloyed good however and can be mischievous at times and sometimes punishes to those who invoke him too regularly, are too familiar with the passenger caste, or fail to show the proper willingness to aid their fellows. Some of the lesser spirits of the dead he leads, and who respond to his devotees’ summons, are worse and can even be cruel or hostile. Despite these dangers the Happy Sailor is one of the more loved of the Ship Spirits, especially as his special devotees often minister to the poor or injured as charity.

Prime Engine

The vessel is only a shell without the great machines within, from the ever-burning star furnaces in the ship’s deep decks, to the simple gears that dog a hatch, without its machinery the HMS Apollyon would be nothing. So great and so many are the machine spirits, that they have their own courts and king. This mechanical king is the Prime Engine (not to be confused with the legendary thinking machine the ‘CENT-ORD’) and it is a haughty friend of its people’s now fallen creators. The Prime Engine’s powers allow it to restore temporary life to broken machines, animate automatons and encourage the vessel to aid the houngan.

Winding Gear

One of the most distant of the Ship Spirits, Winding Gear cannot be spoken to directly. Its gospel is written on crumbling fragments of ancient grandeur and its demands found buried in the shiny iron that lurks under the rust. The Gear isn’t a spirit of the Ship’s present, but primarily an echo of its past. Those mambos who invite it within them and consort with it are the most notable of the Ship Spirit holy women as they soon affect the speech, mannerism and dress of the past. The powers of the Gear are vague and primarily focused on transformation, memory and illusion. The Winding Gear is a distant spirit, not uncaring, but hard to reach through the haze of eons, and evoking its powers are harder than most of common Ship Spirits.

When one cracks open the hoary spine of the “Underworld and Wilderness Adventures” (well not spine, they are zine like pamphlets, stapled together) one almost immediately finds a set of dungeon encounter tables. They look 'normal' at first, table 1 contains low hit dice dungeon vermin (giant rats, centipedes, spiders) and sniveling humanoids like kobolds. Table 2 starts to get some real opposition on it: hobgoblins, gnolls, berserkers and ghouls. By the time you’re on table three and four there are the sort of monsters that can really spell danger to a low level party, such as wights, wraiths and giant animals. This might seem reasonable, even conservative if these tables were broken down by dungeon level, but they are explicitly not by dungeon level. On the first level of the dungeon there is a 1 in 6 chance of encountering one of the horrors off of table four, and this includes ogres (which are reasonable enough) but also wraiths and gargoyles. I focus here on gargoyles because they are utterly immune to normal weapon damage in most version of the rules, including silver weapons.

Characters fresh from generation, at best armed with a silver dagger (which won’t hurt a gargoyle) or two and maybe a magic missile (which won’t kill a gargoyle, but can injure it), have a chance of running into a gargoyle or a of group of them as soon as they enter the mythic underworld to seek treasures and glory. Now this might appear at first to be absurd, cruel and an arbitrary way to massacre player characters. This sort of thinking is what’s made the idea of ‘challenge levels’ for monsters popular and ultimately raised the sort of concern that leads to campaign railroads as opposed to open worlds. This isn’t to say that there aren’t places for worrying about balance in tabletop games, but those places are games where tactical challenges and solutions in combat are heavily ruled and mechanically complex. In many video games this sort of staging and challenge level is the basis of all combat – a 1 st level character should only fight 1^st (and maybe 2^ndlevel) monsters or the math will destroy them. There is no need to apply that to tabletop games, the math of OD&D is very simple, there are few skills, cooldowns and such to keep track of and the players’ combat options are limited only by their imaginations which can radically change the way combat is managed. Old School combats frequently involve the use of nets, greased steps, bags of marbles, trip wires and false or real retreats that mean that a party of clever players can kill, bypass or defeat creatures that they have no chance against in a straight fight much of the time. In other words, there is nothing wrong with including a gargoyle as an enemy for a first level party. Furthermore there are several elements that are emphasized that started to fall by the wayside in the post Dragonlance era when Dungeon and Dragon’s switched its focus from the treasure hunting scoundrels of Swords and Sorcery to heroes battling against evil and chaos. This change is dramatic in the modules of the era, with notes on many encounters that the creatures immediately attack and an increased dependence on Experience Points from combat.

In early editions of D&D there are rules that mitigate the need for combat, and emphasize that fighting fantastic creatures is rarely an optimal solution. The danger of the 1^stlevel wandering monster chart emphasizes this – there are some encounters (say kobolds) where combat is not an especially bad option (though even kobolds can do in 2^nd or 3^rd level characters if they get lucky), and others (gargoyles, wraiths, ogres) where it’s a terrible one. Even in the easy encounters, bypassing them is almost always a better option than combat - a band of kobolds willing to trade/hire on as scouts/provide information is better asset then a pile of dead kobolds. Furthermore wandering monsters don’t guard significant treasure, and random encounters ideally exist to both give the flavor of the dungeon (factions, other invaders from the surface, specific kinds of vermin) and most importantly as the primary limiting factor for careful dungeon explorers.

TIMEKEEPING - The random encounter table exists to put time pressure on exploration and caution. A thoughtful group of players is a fine, thing - probing with spears and poles, checking for traps, listening at every door. This is also boring, and ideally there should be some risk associated with extreme caution. This risk is the chance of a random encounter, and for this risk to have meaning it's best if it's occasionally more than the mere inconvenience of a giant rat. If the player's know (best provided by rumors, prior encounters, and even clues [I give clues of nearby monster inhabitants on a '2' on the encounter die]) that there are dangerous, even deadly creatures roaming about the decision to search for secret doors becomes a meaningful balancing, not simply a rote activity, and builds tension not boredom. Likewise smashing open doors, listening and other typical dungeoneer safety precautions. furthermore, it's important that the hyper dangerous monsters for the level are random, and not placed, because they cannot create permanent obstacles and are much less likely to force the characters into an unwinnable fight, being themselves transient and largely uninvolved in dungeon level factions.

XP for GP– This is the biggest factor making the dangerous random encounter reasonable. When XP is given only for gold recovered, combat is almost always the less favored option. This also has the nice side effect of discouraging psychotic bloodthirsty player behavior (if one cares about such things), at least when it’s not based on an in-game rationale, because there’s nothing to be gained from fighting if treasure can be obtained in another way. Without the expectation that combat is the method to achieve success in the game, players are more likely to recognize that there are encounters they should avoid.

REACTION ROLLS/LANGUAGE SKILLS– Reaction Rolls with every random encounter mean that many encounters won’t result in combat. The 2D6 reaction roll doesn’t have a high chance of resulting in a friendly reaction, but it doesn’t result in an immediate attack that often either. The reaction roll usually ends up at about a 6 or 7 – resulting in the monster being “uncertain”. Now admittedly this is said to only apply to monsters that are intelligent and outmatched, but I like using it for all monsters, most wild creatures don’t attack immediately, unless they’re hunting. I’ve backed away from a last mountain lion on a sunny rock in real life, and it thankfully didn’t look like it want to attack. This is of course a place for ‘GM Fait’. I always roll reaction checks for every encounter, but I bend them to my conception of the specific monster’s psychology. This isn’t hard – wild beasts are hunting most the time, but when they know they’ve been spotted they usually will make an aggressive display before attacking as they don’t want to fight, they want to ambush something. On a friendly roll it means they don’t see the party as either prey or a threat, but they certainly don’t want the characters around will be annoyed if they don’t leave quickly. Intelligent monsters are easier, a positive roll encounter roll means that they have a deal for the party – of course it’s not often a deal the party really wants to make, and making friends with to many monsters limits the chance of treasure recovery. I also tend to assume on a successful surprise roll (2 in 6) that the monsters are ambushing the party. Still this provides an additional chance that many encounters that aren’t going to end in parlay.

SIMPLE COMBAT– The simple nature of OD&D combat means that almost any action other than an attack with a weapon requires either a house rule or an ad hoc ruling. Yet this is a tabletop game, so players are limited only by their imaginations, and there are several mechanics that can easily be adapted to various combat situations (stat checks, saving throws, force checks etc.) meaning that the players and the GM always have a palette of options to deal creatively with monsters they cannot/do not want to fight in regular combat. Understanding this it’s important for the GM to willingly allow novel solutions and tricks, rather than force everything into a set system.

Recently I’ve had the opportunity to test this idea a couple times in my Apollyon game, introducing a chance of encountering 1D4 re-skinned gargoyles in the form of diabolic scouts for the Golden Teeth faction of devils. Two bands of adventurers have encountered the re-skinned gargoyles, and one managed to physically combat one. The other encounter ended with retreat and the sacrifice of a henchmen (which will have some pretty negative consequences next time those PCs look for henchmen).

HMS APPOLLYON PLAY REPORT SESSION 3 HIGHLIGHTS

Groob the Steamfitter (Fighter), The Masked Scholar Nelson (MU), Peepers the Flying Monkey Scoundrel(Halfling) and Aristocratic Mario(Elf) had finally prevailed. They’d taken three trips to the abandoned black iron customs station two hundred feet down into the Fetid Pit, and it’s secrets were finally revealing themselves. The sad guardian golem that still stalked the halls had recognized the scavengers as militia and believed they were defending the bastion from invasion, the fungal zombies of ancient guards had all been destroyed in an inferno of firebombs that cost the life of the Gladiator Briney and every foor of the station was mapped and explored. Only environmental hazards remained, and it was these same hazards (toxic mold, dripping acidic slime and other remnants of ancient demonic corruption) had provided protection for the stations goods.

As the scavengers were hunkering under their vulcanized cloaks with water soaked scraps as facemasks and using Mario’s crystalline familiar to drag ancient crates of trade goods from a spore filled storage room a sudden scrabbling clatter came from the corrugated metal roof above. Some flying creature had landed, perhaps drawn by the flickering light of the scavenger’s lamps, barely visible through the station’s steel shuttered embrasures. Whatever it was walked and scurried above, and soon strange gurgling cries were added to the sounds of its movements. Groob peeked from the door and saw the creature, a dream horror of some sort, a man-sized infant with ragged black wings, twisted above it’s ruddy fat flesh. The horror clung to the wall head down with all four pudgy limbs, peering through one of the narrow windows into the storeroom , it’s fat digits seeming to dig into the tough black iron of the fortress. As Groob saw the thing, it saw him, a round head with giant oil black eyes twitching with insectile precision to stare at the armored engineer. As Mr. Groob backed away and the unnatural beast, he drew his holdout pistol, a cheap smoothbore muzzle loading flintlock, dependent on the size of its ball and the startling amount of smoke it produced rather than accuracy or power. In response the baby-thing simply cooed, and smiled to reveal rows of serrated golden teeth that curled in shark-like ranks behind its pink gums.

Groob backed away, panic and disgust rising as the otherworldy abomination crept down the wall, he fired his pistol as soon as he was sure the creature was close enough for even a poorly cast ball to hit, and for once the poorly made gun worked perfectly, and the ball splatted directly between the wide staring eyes of the scurry monster. Splatted and sparked, leaving a vague smear of lead, and raising a hissing giggle of rage from the devil baby. Groob stumbled back babbling about the creature to his companions, who had barely enough time to ready their weapons before it burst through the unlocked door. Peeper’s crossbow snapped into the unnatural creature’s shoulder and the short steel bolt fractured into shards against soft looking pink flesh.

As the cooing monster advanced gnashing it’s deadly golden smile and it began to dawn on the scavengers that not only were they trapped in a between a room of toxic spores and a diabolic opponent, but that none of their weapons would harm the creature. Nelson shouted ‘run’ and leaped towards the monster’s head, trying to wrestle it into the ground. Fury and terror drove the slight academic and he managed to grasp the creature firmly by one arm, restraining it’s movement. Mario’s familiar also leaped forward, only to be bitten nearly in two by a serpent quick slash of the creature’s teeth. The wizard and his companions wrestled with the infernal baby, it’s teeth slashing and gnawing right and left, but with the band of adventurers piling on they were able to restrain the horror. Just as the tightening loops of climbing rope finally restrained the monster it leaned in towards Nelson, and in a moment of distraction bit deep into the flesh of his face and neck, the rows of gold teeth parting his steel mask like paper. The remaining adventurers were able to struggle with the laughing least devil, and shove it into an empty metal crate removed from the storeroom. Dragging the crate and monster up thirty feet of stairs proved difficult, but anger and fear lent the party strength and with a mighty heave, infernal infant and storage case went over the side of the stairs and plummeted into the inky bioluminescent lit depths of the pit.

This was a fight with a single gargoyle, and from the GM’s side it looked like this (using the Apollyon house ruled OD&D):

A. Random encounter die indicates monster(1 in 6 per turn). An 8 indicates Gold Teeth Least Devil (gargoyle), and lack of surprise. Since the parties are indoors and the thing is flying I figure it’s heard the noise they are making, and come to scout out the situation.

B. The reaction roll comes up a ‘12’, which is a universally positive reaction. Since this thing is an actual diabolic outsider that collects mortal souls to improve its lot. Since Devils are creatures of order the thing would rather trick people into giving up their souls in exchange for promises of wealth and power.

C. One of the party members decides to attack the thing because it’s creepy rather then parley. Hits it dead on as well, and does no damage. The gargoyle decides to barrel in after it’s prey, knowing it’s immune to weapons and suffers a reactive crossbow shot that doesn’t phase it. Most of the party wins initiative and realizes they can’t actually do anything to harm the devil with their weapons.

D. The party wizard shouts out to grapple the thing and using the grapple rules it gets a reactive attack against the first person charging it (the elemental) and manages to reduce the elemental to 0HP. Three other party members grapple the creature, but it’s really strong.

E. I decide that three successful grapples can restrain the creature, this is complicated because the gargoyle has a bite attack, which is a close weapon, meaning it automatically hits in grapple. So the gargoyle gets to bite one grappler per round.

F. It takes three rounds to successfully tie up the creature, in these three rounds in mauls the party fighter and bites off the wizard’s face. After it’s restrained the party realizes that their rope won’t hold a screaming laughing devil with an unnatural strength. They stuff it in a box and drop it over the side of the pit.

Necromancy

The history of Sterntown and fear of the Ash Plague has made necromancy a forbidden art in Sterntown, and its practice is punishable by the most severe and gruesome of sentences. Still the power over the dead and the lure of immortality that the dark art offers draws adherents who must conceal their research and take great efforts to disguise their creations. Because of the fear of discovery that hangs over every necromancer they tend to be reclusive, at first skulking and scurry about and as they grow more accomplished learning to hide in plain sight through disguising their powers and adopting mannerisms that deflect suspicion. Necromancers are rare, but the last two powerful ones ferreted out by the Church of the Queen’s witch smellers have been sorcerer with social grace, the most vibrant dress, and foppish manners, as far from the black-clad and cadaverous stereotype as possible.

PDF Link to class guide

Tier 1	Lesser Reanimation – Necromancer may build and reanimate unintelligent and spiteful creations of ½ HD per level of spell slot dissipated.
Tier 2	Speak with Dead– The skilled necromancer can speak with the dead and undead, compelling corpses to talk and understand regardless of their age. At least the skull of the creature is needed for this power to work, and the ability does not compel the dead to answer questions or behave in a friendly manner. Legerdemain 2 in 6
Tier 3	Greater Reanimation– Necromancer may build and reanimate undead thralls of limited intelligence and will of up to 1 HD per level of spell slot dissipated. Banishment– The necromancer may drive off and hold hostile undead at bay with his will alone. Necromancers turn undead as a cleric of ½ his or her level. This ability will not destroy undead, only cause them to flee or cover defensively.
Tier 4	Raise Dead– Necromancer reach through the veil of death and return souls to their mortal bodies. A person less than 5 days dead can be raised by the necromancer with this ability. This action takes a session of downtime, and requires a roll under Constitution on the part of both the necromancer and subject. A failure by the necromancer means a permanent 1 point Constitution loss to the necromancer, while a failure by the resurrection’s subject results in permanent death. Individuals raised by necromancers are effectively undead, suffering the effects of turning and damage from holy water, as well as the inability to heal by non-magical means and a permanent loss of 1D6/2 Constitution. Lich Process – A Necromancer may begin the process of transforming themselves into a Lich at this level of power. This should be treated as spell research of the Maximum level, with failure resulting in the Necromancer’s destruction/death and success transformation into to a near immortal undead creature. Legerdemain 3 in 6

Spells

Legerdemain– The skill of fast talk and deception, an individual successfully using this skill may concoct disguises, take on fake accents and manipulate the emotions of their targets. Successful use of the skill will allow a user to conceal their true identity or disguise themselves, avoiding potential reputation related penalties, and even calm a violent situation (unless combat has already begun) or mend a poor reaction roll. If a character with legerdemain successfully attempts to manipulate or fast talk their target this causes another reaction roll with a bonus equal to ½ the manipulator’s legerdemain skill.

Reanimation– By investing a greater or smaller portion of their magical energy a necromancer may create and command undead thralls. By giving up one or more spell slots the Necromancer may empower undead servants, entirely loyal but very unintelligent and inclined towards evil and mayhem. The basic undead thrall is something akin to a zombie or skeleton, but by investing greater or lesser amounts of power they may be given special abilities and intelligence. A basic thrall will have AC 17, and one attack with a trained attack bonus structure for Hit Dice.

Thrall Special Abilities
Spell Level Cost	Effect
Intelligence
1 Spell Level	Basic Intelligence (INT 4) (Morale 12)
2 Spell Level	Moderate Intelligence (INT 11) (Morale 10)
Offensive
1 Spell Level	Warrior Attack Bonus
1 Spell Level	Additional Attack
1 Spell Level	Dangerous Attack - Attack does Damage as 2-Handed Weapon
2 Spell Level	Attack Drains Levels
2 Spell Level	Paralyzing Attack
Defensive
1 Spell Level	Additional Armor (AC 15)
2 Spell Level	Heavy Armor (AC 18)
3 Spell Level	Normal Weapon Immunity

Skills and Abilities

A Necromancer’s first and most basic spell is Momento Mori, and in addition to this basic spell the Necromancer gains one of the following spells, determined randomly.

Momento Mori

Be performing a short ritual the Necromancer wraps herself in a lasting enchantment, which will endure until a single ‘dissipation’ result on the event die. Suffused with the essence of death, the necromancer makes undead nearby accepting of her presence. It is not clear if this is a form of invisibility or simply a charm that calms the angry dead, but undead creatures will generally ignore the Necromancer and any of her own undead thralls while the necromancer is under the effect of this spell, unless they attack or otherwise make efforts to make themselves known. Sentient and powerful undead (Over 4 HD) may still detect the caster, as if she had a 5 in 6 stealth skill.

In addition to Momento Mori a starting Necromancer will have one of the following spells scribed in her spellbook:

1D6	Introductory Necromantic Magics
1	Ghostly Presence– Magic User is shielded from harm by a ghostly presence. This spirit creates a fairly ineffective shield in front of the caster, using it’s somewhat insubstantial form to swap aside blows and missiles, granting an AC of 15 for the 1D6+Level rounds that the spirit is summoned. Additionally the ghostly presence will absorb any magic missile attack directed against the necromancer during this time
2	Charm Undead– Using this spell the necromancer may charm or shift the allegiance of an undead creature that can understand the Necromancer. Charmed creatures may save v. spells to resist the charm on it’s initial application and then upon every ‘dissipation’ roll on the encounter day. A charmed undead may be made into a necromancer’s thrall if the necromancer has enough available spell slots to reanimate such a creature (in which case controlling it uses those spell slots as if the necromancer had reanimated the creature).
3	Magic Missile– The necromancer manifests a magical attack that will automatically strike a single target. The attack has no physical force but will do 1D6 points of damage. An additional missile can be created for every tier of Necromantic power possessed by the caster. Necromancer’s magic missile can take many forms, though the most common are unerring ghostly birds, flying skulls or rays of necrotizing power.
4	Talking Skull - When this spell is cast, a necromancer can enchant a skull with jaw bone to move and speaks any message the caster desire up to three sentences in length over a 1 turn period from start to finish. It cannot speak magic spells. The spell can be triggered by any simple occurrence according to the command of the necromancer. Once the skull speaks this enchantment will expire.
5	Darkness – The necromancer can create globe of darkness that obscures all light within a 10’ radius that will last for three rolls of the ‘dissipate’ result on the random encounter check. This darkness is impervious to normal light sources, can will extinguish magic lights (both spells consuming one another). The spell may be cast on the eyes of a living creature, and if they fail to save vs. spells will result in blindness.
6	Miasma of Fear– Pulling the vaguest reflections and whispers of existence from nearby spirits the necromancer creates a region around themselves (a 10’ square centered on the caster) that reeks of death and whispers with the agonies of the death. Any living, natural creature entering the miasma (including the caster’s allies) must save vs. spells or flee for 1D6/2 rounds. The miasma does not move with the caster but will persist for one dissipation roll.

THE DWIMMERMOUNT CONTROVERSY

Russ Nicholson Ghasts - Best Art in Dwimmermount

Dwimmermount, long rumored, shrouded in mystery and rage, a controversy and the breaker of titans. I’m not talking about the mega-dungeon, I’m talking about the drama and frustration surrounding the late delivery of this Kickstarted project. I don’t really care about any of the drama and rigmarole associated with the Dwimmermount, but I am interested in the product itself, a consciously ‘old school’ mega dungeon packaged by, expanded on and rewritten by Autarch press (Of Adventurer Conqueror King – which I don’t have much experience with) and originally conceived and written by Grognardia.

It suffices to say that the Kickstarter was frightfully delayed, the task overwhelming (more on that below) and what started out as a hobbyist’s personal expression of his affection for old system dungeon crawls collapsed into something very different and a bit ugly. The somewhat tragic, convoluted and painful process of publishing Dwimmermount is alluded to in the introduction along with the project’s basic goals and intentions, but it should be fundamentally unimportant to anyone who is asking themselves “Can I use this mega-dungeon, and what for?”

RATS AND COPPERS

Besides the now unimportant delay in publication, during Dwimmermount’s production, it’s draft was released in a more or less playable form. In running a test of the adventure one of the groups, GM’d by a well-known OSR blogger and containing at least one other vocal member of the online OSR community found the first level of the dungeon, slow, dull and most importantly frustratingly unoriginal. The exemplar of these alleged problems was a room containing six giant rats and several thousand copper pieces. It should be said that other players, testing Dwimmermount as run by its first author and creator James Maliszewski reported a much more interesting experience. There may be some truth to this distinction as there’s a real possibility that draft notes would be spare and uninteresting compared to the creator’s own understanding of them – certainly my HMS APOLLYON notes, when readable at all, are far less interesting then the ideas they jog in my memory. Still the basic accusation and one that this review will seek to answer is “Is Dwimmermount Boring?” The answer to this question is no. Perhaps a qualified no, stating that if one ran it as a hack and slash combat centric adventure it could have dull spots, and that it’s clearly focused on providing for a long running exploration campaign.

MASSIVE TOME
Dwimmermount is 414 pages long, and while some of this is introductions, space filling design decisions (really if your book is already huge why not) and tables of contents there’s hundreds of pages of gaming content in here, including a starting town, demi-human races and subclasses as well as a lightly keyed wilderness and map. This isn’t a mega-dungeon, it’s a setting focused around a mega-dungeon and should be reviewed as such. With a product this size I don’t think I can really speak to much about how I’d run the module, reskinning it into something different and strange, Dwimmermount is already totalizing, as much as any setting is, which takes the onus off the GM to determine the game worlds feel and basic sensibilities if done correctly. Dwimmermount’s sensibilities are very classic dungeons and dragons and it aims to evoke a swords and sorcery world rather than the watered down Tolkien pastiche known as vanilla fantasy. Still Dwimmermount is undeniably huge, and suffers from some bloat, and the over zeleous explanation of simple things. While some of these odd additions are pretty interesting and useful (a discussion of the magical/ancient and alien materials in the mountain is interesting, but goes on for several pages in a rather convoluted manner). This is too be expected in a product of Dwimmermount’s size and complexity, but can be off-putting when first picking up the module, as the majority of the excess is in the first hundred pages, which contain setting and wilderness.

Sadly, and this is perhaps Dwimmermount’s greatest trouble, the huge book is disorganized – or perhaps overly organized, tritely organized, or badly organized. There are about 300 pages of keyed rooms, broken up by level, but the monster description (not the stats thankfully), magic items and level factions are in separate sections before or after the main meat of the module. It’s the treatment of factions that annoys me the most, especially as the faction conflict in Dwimmermount is nicely set up, with multi-level rivalries and ancient antagonisms that can eventually be deduced at the first encounter with some groups. Factions maybe one of the most important elements in Dwimmermount, yet the faction section is split off, without separate notes for reading with each level, lost in its own little design gulag, where it’s split up by level. Beyond the broad outline of multi-level faction conflict this is information that could easily have been provided in each level’s introduction.

THE SETTING

There’s something a bit strange about Dwimmermount’s setting, it’s gameworld is far too close to a dull Vanilla Fantasy/High Fantasy with a Science Fantasy mega-dungeon at its center. While Dwimmermount and its larger setting background feels a bit more like a more serious Anomalous Subsurface Environment (more Barsoom and less Thundarr), the current outdoor part of the setting (towns, wilderness map and such) is a rather standard collapsed wizard empire with emergent city-states, yeomen and such. This component of the adventure is the weakest, and while it might be molded into an interesting ‘mythic underworld’ v. ‘prosaic overworld’ dynamic, it’s not ideal. If I draw on the comparison with ASE again, the lightly sketched (mostly elaborated through evocative detail and random tables) Land of 1,000 towers/Denethix is far more compelling and far better linked to the mega-dungeon than Dwimmermount’s Muntburg. I think this is important because in my experience running ASE, players will get bored with the dungeon at some point and do some exploration of the above ground world and nearby locations. Yet Dwimmermount’s Muntburg, both less interesting and smaller then ASE’s Denethix, takes up a lot more pages to cover.

THE DUNGEON

Dwimmermount is a fully realized megadungeon. It has mysteries, factions, tricks, traps, unique monsters, sublevels and sprawling maps filled with loops and multiple entrances. The maps themselves are nothing special, their fill is unpleasant, and the talents of Logan Knight appear to have been largely wasted as his elevation map is chopped into several sheets, oriented in a funny direction, and doesn’t actually provide much information. The overhead maps are clean though, and functional enough, with a map for each of the 13 levels (some are sublevels of the same size) containing 50 – 70 locations, on what appears to have been a single sheet of graph paper. That is to say that as Megadungeons go Dwimmermount is more deep than wide, and its levels individually slightly smaller, with smaller spaces and rooms then some other megadungeons. There is good art throughout, though it’s somewhat inconsistent, from a couple of magnificent Russ Nichelson illustrations, in his glorious art nouveau details/dripping grot style and then there are scattered cartoon drawing that provide an entirely different feel. Much of the interior art is grey washed (obviously digitally so) ink drawings of Dwimmermount’s interior spaces. These are largely of good quality and evocative enough to both be fun while reading and worth sharing at the table.

The dungeon itself covers most of the traditional megadungeon/mythic underworld standards: flooded levels, cave levels, laboratories, ancient cities and ancient machines. There’s a nice mix of traps and encounters, but it tends to include a lot more empty rooms then I personally would. This could make for a good exploration game, and there is certainly a nice idea about large gold rewards for discovering historical mysteries within Dwimmermount, that could be the basis of a solid campaign, relying on the numerous mosaics, murals, artifacts, inscriptions and tomes within the dungeon.

There is a good amount of dungeon dressing in Dwimmermount, with rooms seemingly having been designed and placed with some attention to what I call ‘organic’ dungeon stocking. This can bother some GMs who don’t need to know a room was once a barracks or a slurry pond 500 years before, but for me it’s helpful as it informs what might be found there from a careful search, likewise knowing a room’s current use helps the GM flesh out description in game, when the party decides to take great interest in a room that has little or no importance to the dungeon as a whole. The room descriptions in Dwimmermount are correspondingly longer then in many megadungeon products (Stonehell, ASE) because of the historical and dressing detail, but they aren’t pointlessly so especially when one consider’s that Dwimmermount is clearly written for a long exploration game.

The organic detail is more interesting the deeper one gets into Dwimmermount, where science-fantasy and odd touches predominate, as opposed to the first levels which have the feel of a standard, grey stone blocks and ironbound doors dungeon. I think this alow start, as well as the obtuse nature of the mysteries in Dwimmermount may have give one shot players and GMs the feeling that the dungeon is a vanilla slog, some sort of clumsy B1 – Search for the unknown (the description density reminds me of B1) blown up to cover over a thousand rooms. Yet once the party is through the first few levels things start getting interesting and strange.

The slower pace of keyed encounters may emphasize exploration (and hence resource management), and so Dwimmermount depends on the random encounter table for a lot of the in game action, and sadly these encounter tables are weak, cursory and uninspiring – though sufficient and easy enough to modify. If the GM has read the considerable faction material it should be easy to make these encounters fun, and potentially both dangerous and profitable, depending on the players’ interest and abilities at faction based roleplaying. Likewise a good GM can use even the skeletal random encounter table to add signs and noises of the other inhabitants in addition to actual encounters. This might also go a ways towards making the levels of Dwimmermount seem a bit less deserted. This is a minor complaint really, as the core of Dwimmermount is solid, and the content contains many of the harder to improvise elements of a dungeon crawl – traps, tricks and mysteries.

Dwimmermount is enormous, and I can’t really go into detail about its many levels beyond the generalities about, except to see that there are a number of good ideas and encounters on every level, and there doesn’t seem to be any indication that it is a ‘boring’ dungeon or and overpolished one. Dwimmermount has reasonable size descriptions, provides a good amount of information on its keyed areas and has enough variation to make it worthwhile.

MONSTERS, TREASURES AND ENCOUNTERS

Dwimmermount has a good monster set, but it might trick a reader into thinking otherwise. Many of the creatures within the mountain share the name with common D&D enemies: kobolds, orcs, gnolls, and minotaurs, but have an radically different background (as magically vat grown soldier beastmen) that makes them more interesting and flavorful enemies. This is a theme in Dwimmermount, a reluctance to follow Tolkienwsque fantasy naming conventions and give everything different and new a nonsensical name in some pseudo fantasy language. Rather Dwimmermount’s authors have decided to use names that evoke ideas or words related to what they signify. The Eld for example are Martian elves, who are old (hence ‘eld’ as in elder), magic (‘eld’ as in eldritch) and from space (‘eld’ as in Games Workshop’s Eldar). I personally hate confusing fantasy names without real world reference so this is a great naming convention. It’s much easier to remember content with names that give me an idea of what I’m dealing with.

The tricks and traps are generally rational and can be explained mechanically easily enough, allowing player skill solutions and work arounds rather than limiting the game to mechanical skill tests. However, there seem to be fewer traps and such then I’d personally like, meaning monsters present the major challenge in much of Dwimmermount.

The Treasure in Dwimmermount is fairly good, with most mundane treasures getting the few words of description necessary to make them interesting and somewhat memorable. The magic items are likewise good, and while many +X weapons exist they are at least described as being made of magical or supernatural material in a way that gives them some life. There are a fair number of new magic items as well and these are generally excellent, both because they have clear origins and because they are often low powered, but useful.

A GRAND EFFORT

Dwimmermount took a long time to get out, and it seems to have passed through a lot of hands before publication. It’s trouble as they are stem from this convoluted production process, with different authors and designers putting their own gloss the original ideas, and muddying them as they did so. This has led some of the adventure, especially the setting elements to seem rather like dull vanilla D&D imagining, but if one can get past the frustrating mediocrity of Dwimmermount’s wilderness areas (and I’m not saying one should, megadungeon campaigns have a tendency to wander from the dungeon itself in my experience), there’s a lot of great stuff within. [NOTE: Per one of the publishers and editors of Dwimmermount this impression does not reflect the actual process, the editors were true to the notes provided by the auteur, which included the vanilla fantasy above ground. I have heard other versions of this regarding the starting town being phased out quickly in favor of a necromancers' city, and the liberal use of LOTFP locations above ground. Really I'm not concerned about the source of the difference, but personally the split between Science Fantasy Dungeon and Vanilla Fantasy setting is jarring and Muntberg would be what I'd change 1st if I were to run Dwimmermount]. Dwimmermount is subtle stuff, and will require a lot of play time to really get into, but it’s there - a non-gonzo science fantasy D&D mega dungeon built with a lot of attention to detail and an adherence to all the ‘rules’ of building a good mega-dungeon. The very size of Dwimmermount may also be its enemy, a few forays into the place won’t discover much, and the levels get consistently weirder, but start very classically D&D. Of the major historical factions, the interesting ones (martian elves, space wizards, robot gods) are deeper in the dungeon while the Thulians read pretty much like a vanilla fantasy evil militaristic empire. This means that to enjoy Dwimmermount’s more interesting elements one will have to play a campaign, likely a long one. Even the dungeon itself is a long haul, the number of empty rooms is based on the classic proportions, which tend to make for a slow game if the party is cautious or interested in fiddling with dungeon dressing.

All in all Dwimmermount is a solid megadungeon, so big that it may be harder to use, and hampered a bit by dull high fantasy additions to its swords and sorcery (or perhaps sword and planet even) core. The individual levels include factions, decent monsters (everything is a reskinning really, with the classic D&D names pasted on), evocative treasure, imaginative traps/puzzles and a lot of mysteries to explore.

The only real improvement I can think of for Dwimmermount, would be to drop the Megadungeon into a less vanilla fantasy world, perhaps ASE’s Land of 1,000 Towers or even Carcosa, as the dungeon is strange enough to offer a great addition to a real Science Fantasy game world.

Last Gasp’s First Product

Recently Logan from Last Gasppublished his first commercial (not aggressively so - it’s pay what you want, but if you decide to get pay the man something) product “Sleeping Place of theFeathered Swine”. I grabbed it right away based on the enjoyment I get from Logan’s blog, and especially from his play reports (including one from Sleeping Place of the Feathered Swine). Sleeping Place of the Feathered Swine is a simple location based adventure with 13 locations, and a huge amount of flavor. The adventure has a few piece of great art by the author (great monster illustrations) and includes a wonderful map, along with a novel approach to using the map at the table. Size or details aren’t what matters here, what matters is the evocative environment and setting, both the contemporary sort of body horror weirdness, late 80’s Warhammer Fantasy grottiness, and a great deal of late 70’s OD&D deadly.

THE ADVENTURE

The Worm Tumor, a primary antagonist

The party finds a failed adventurer, a wizard of some sort, in the wilderness. He’s lost his Grimore and he’s not well. He tells of an easy commission to surgically take some sort of larva sacks from some kind of horrible beasts that are hibernating in the cave. His companions were all killed by disgusting mutants in the cave. He can give the party directions, and proper instructions and warnings regarding the removal and care of the worm cysts. Some alchemist creep will pay good money for the cysts.

Inside the cave things are gross, fungus and piles of rotten feathers everywhere, but worse the victims of the larva (from improper removal of the monster cysts) turn into horrors ready to spread their plague in disgusting ways. A dying adventurer can be rescued from the previous explorers and provides more warnings (and monster tranquilizers) , monsters lurch from hidden recesses, and all the while a room full of horrible pig/bear/owl things hibernate waiting to be badly tranquilized and have their larval cysts plundered. Everything can go wrong, and going wrong is deadly and disgusting.

There are simple treasures (broken equipment mostly) suitable for a very desperate low level game, a very strange pearl that creates cave crabs and the lost wizard’s grimore of horrible spells (plus the Feathered Swine cysts – assuming the party doesn’t infect themselves gathering them).

GRIM AND GROTTY

The Sleeping place of the Feathered Swine is a small adventure really, good for a single session or maybe two. It’s also a cave adventure of the most basic sort – go in, fight monsters, get quest items and incidental treasure. Sleeping Place of the Feathered Swine could be written as a one page dungeon, but it’ not – and that’ what makes the adventure wonderful. There is so much detail, great situations, horrible obstacles that Feathered Swine transcends it’s simple cave adventure roots. It’s not that the descriptions are long, most are quite short, but that the adventure successfully conveys why the Sleeping Place of the Feathered Swine is not just another dangerous cave, and why desperate mercenaries are drawn to it. The Sleeping Place has a lot of promise as a starting adventure because it creatures a world as well as a location – a world where a broken sword is a nice find as a weapon. The sort of place where characters are likely equipped from the Warhammer Fantasy random tables, and you start out as a street thug with filthy pants, a ball of twine and a cudgel rather than the standard D&D equipment. I personally like this sort of world – I like the idea that the first few levels of gold should be spent on buying decent equipment. Sleeping Place manages to capture this feel, and this alone is worth the price (hey I paid $5.00, I think you can shell out a few dollars to encourage Logan to do more of these things). The New Spells, gross monsters (dangerously contagious worm host zombies and the feathered swine [owlbears of a sort]), cursed and beneficial magic armor, and excellent map are nice additions.

The strange armor is a perfect example of the sort of baroque detail and clever description Sleeping Place of the Feathered Swine is filled with. The armor is found in the bottom of the cave, behind a small copse of mushrooms, still worn by an oddly mummified corpse. Covered in disturbing engravings and clearly dire portents the suit is obviously magical. Indeed, it is a very beneficial suit of plate armor (Plate +1, with the ability to convert some physical damage into temporary Constitution damage). It will save a character multiple times to be sure, but it is also hideous and cursed, melding with and feeding off its wearer in a viscerally nasty way. This sort of powerful boon and curse item is great, both because it creates character identity and makes magic feel special and weird. Generally everything that could be mundane and dull in Sleeping Place of the Feathered Swine (and it’s a 13 room cave lair) is so transformed into something strange, memorable and fascinating.

Furthermore these details tell several stories that the party can unravel and explore. The life cycle of the Feathered Swine and the failed expedition to exploit it by dead/dying/transformed mercenaries is one such tale, while the magical items (armor and pearl) and principle opponents (Worm tumors) offer an opportunity to expand and lead to future adventures.

THE LAYOUT

One of the most interesting elements of Sleeping Place is its layout. There’s quite a bit of innovation and as with all novelty some of it is great, and some isn’t to my taste.

First I’ll cover the issues I have with the design, and then I’ll go into what’s great about it. I think it’s also worth noting that this is Logan’s first go at a published RPG product, and that there is far more design good then design bad here. The PDF is largely split into half pages, zine style, with each page containing a single location. This in itself isn’t bad, but it seems to be space intensive, especially as many of the locations only fill a portion of the page. Another interesting choice, that I’m not sure I fully approve of, is the decision to use large one sentence key descriptions in each area. In general I like the idea, of at a glance room descriptions, they can be super useful at the table to jog a GMs memory about a room, but they way they are presented in Sleeping Place is a bit disruptive as giant text, in a different font can be jarring and only adds to the page bloat that the decision about page size and content creates. These are minor complaint really, and I have heard others praise these decisions, so I suspect it’s just my design preferences (Feel free to complain about my own PDF design proclivities - I think Road of Tombs and Kuelberg Flood might be the best examples of my current style).

There are other decisions in Sleeping Place of the Feathered Swine that are very good, and quite new.

Excellent linkage in the PDF (anytime an area of special object is mentioned you can click through to its description) is really nice, and something that I don’t see in a lot of larger more high profile products. Likewise the entire PDF feels polished and well put together without the sort of editing and layout sloppiness that can sometimes plague amateur or solo creators. Finally, and most interestingly, there are some wonderful uses of the map. The map (as with much of Logan’s work) is a wonderfully drawn Isometric beauty that does an enormous amount of the description for the adventure. Rather then leave it as something for the GM’s eyes only, Sleeping Place includes a cut out version of the map so that individual rooms can be laid down, tile like on the table as they are explored. This is novel, fun and really evocative. It reminds me of the way many GMs are running their hangout games, using screenshare of a map and slowly erasing a masking layer as the dungeon is explored, but does it for a home-game. Another nice use of the map is the small versions of each room included below each description, which makes for a nice reference to geographical features.

CONCLUSION

I unreservedly recommend Sleeping Place of the Feathered Swine, and it’s flavorful, dangerous and allows for in game world building through character decisions. Sleeping Place is precisely the sort of adventure that small creators, amateurs and bloggers have been offering the hobby for the past few years and that now with the resurgence of D&D 5E will hopefully become all the more important as they represent different genres of the classic dungeon crawl, beyond the sort of heroic fantasy Tolkien pastiche currently favored by WOTC and Pathfinder. So go get this thing, read it enjoy it and drop it into your game world. It’s not especially level dependent as the monsters dangerous come mostly from special attacks, and since they are all new monsters their statlines can be easily adjusted.

Lone Colossus of the AKolouthos Sink

Resolute and alone atop a limestone knob, the verdigris covered remains of an Imperial municipal siege unit, a bronze colossus, the ‘Akolouthos’, 3,200 years old and first operational in the service of the Imperial legions, surplused to the Styllus family until only three years ago. The Colossi was the bastion of Styllus dominion over five hundred miles of prime Central Province vineyards and grain, but without it the family has been nearly run under by their neighbors, the Comizius clan. Largely intact, the Akolouthos may even be operational. If the war machine can be repaired or salvaged, the Colossus’ value is immeasurable, and even if destroyed many valuable bits of its arcane workings a likely to be salvageable from the almost intact Colossus.

Like all destroyed Imperial war machines the bronze colossi exudes rotten magic, creating a sink around it of foul arcane corruption. The sink is not as deep or as large as some, but the hillock that the Akolouthos stands atop is bare of life, and now the rock itself bleeds a bluish black and the birds in the area speak in the voices of sobbing children. The Clossi’s own radiation is compounded by the nature of its destruction, and the ancient arcane fluids corrupted by deep forest shadow magic.

A small lair adventure - just 11 rooms, set in the Fallen Empire setting I've made a few comments about. The party can elect to explore a destroyed war machine of the ancient world, recently brought down by noble infighting. Thanks to James A. for giving me a few more mutation effects when my own mind started to fail on this project.

LINK TO PDF (or click on header)

In the next few days or weeks, I'll be putting the final touches on a large adventure (around 40 pages or so) that is a follow up to The Prison of the Hated Pretender. Not a direct sequel to the previous adventure, but something that references the same ancient despotism and events. The Dread Machine will focus on the exploration of an ancient valley, containing a decaying machine of great power and evil. Two keyed locations and several cites to explore, including the Machine itself. It's designed for adventurer's 3rd-6th level and should offer some interesting challenges. All new monsters, magic items and numerous traps, but with an effort to create something that can be dropped into an existing campaign world without deforming it.

HOOKS AND RUMORS

Adventurers die, and usually in hideous ways, but the optimism, entitlement and overweening self-importance that often drives individuals towards delving in ancient tombs and battling horrible monsters also means that few Adventurers will easily accept the finality of death. When one of their companions predictably dies to the horrors of some pit best left untrodden adventurers will seek for ways to transcend mortality and cheat death. Returning a comrade to life is not an easy task. Certain deities, and even their most powerful instruments, can sometimes claw a mortal back from death’s sweet arms, but few adventuring types are in good graces with the gods, and fewer wish to owe the debts associated with divine grace. To these desperate souls many a sage has an answer, and that answer is often the lost Ziggurat of the Pretender, an artifact, machine or perhaps a building created by a forgotten and hated despot in some antediluvian eon. Pinpointing the whereabouts of this wondrous edifice is expensive, and details sketchy, but one thing that the overpaid sage will assure his or her clients is that this device allows resurrection of the dead.

The Yellow Land

The valley isn’t lost, it’s worthless, cursed and shunned. Any of the slow moving, worn out dirt farmers for fifty miles can tell you where the valley is, as they make various signs to ward off evil, sorcery, madness and death. It was finding these plains of yellow dirt that was hard, a place forgotten and overlooked. The plains are almost free of resources but teeming with abandoned, sullen, cheerless clans of cruel, cannibal folk. There is nothing to trade for here, nothing to plunder, and no opportunities to draw the men of civilization. Yet, according to the sage, within a rotten valley that boils from the yellow and rust scrub lands, too poor for even the tireless and moronic dwellers of these parts to farm, is the Autocrat’s Tear, a puckered chancre filled with ancient puissance capable of returning life.

THE MACHINE

A metal cube 80’ by 80’ covered in gears, pistons and jutting devices of unknown use, a doorway in its Southern face spilling a weak internal light, white and cold, onto the cavern floor. Trickles of lubricant, oil and other industrial discharge leak from ancient pipe fittings and run in unnaturally bright rivulets across the rocky ground. The upper level of the object appears to largely consist of an angled set of four huge pistons, all closed.

The interior of the cube is similar to its exterior, a mad jumble of pipes, plates, dials, gears and pistons that overwhelms the eye, with hallways and chambers that appear to have been tunneled out of the mechanical bulk. The halls are between 10’ and 6’ wide where jutting machinery limits passage. The floor is made of either sturdy metal mesh grates, revealing more pipes and devices beneath, or riveted metal plates of steel, bronze or iron. Ceiling varies in height depending on the number of conduits and devices in a particular area of hall, but is never less than 7’.

This is one of the artifacts used by an ancient despot to control his empire. It is powered by sacrificed souls and energy siphoned from beyond the veil of reality. Built partially with the Despots sorcerous skills and partially with material and knowledge of enslaved otherworldly entities, the machine can, extend life, reverse death, create ablife and grant a form of immortality. The alien technology used in its creation is that of the domain of the machine intelligences of the bronze ziggurat, a plane of perfect, horrible order and merciless calculating rationality.

STRANGE TREASURES

The Legion Breaker

Carved or forged from a single piece of unnatural purple black steel, this item consists of a heavy 8’ long chain of hexagonal links topped with a melon sized hollow polyhedral cage decorated with ornate ridges and patterned engravings. The exact number of sides will appear different upon each viewing.

When incense is burned in the censer, it will fill a room up to 50’ x 50’ with thick purple smoke that creates an area of magical order, preventing demons and similar outsider entities of chaos from entering and making other chaotic creatures uncomfortable.

As a weapon the Legion Breaker is a magical blunt two-handed weapon, capable of doing 1D10 points of damage and striking at +1 to hit. If wielded by a cleric in the service of a non-chaotic deity or power it will burn with a pale purple fire when used in combat. On a natural to hit roll of 17 or better (assuming the attack hits) the weapons flames will spread to the target doing an additional 1D4 points of damage, and burning for 1 point of damage per round for the next 4 rounds.

DEADLY TRAPS

Balancing Shrine – the creation and maintenance of this shrine to mechanical perfection is a strange act of worship, still performed by the Wire Ghasts as they intermittently repair and clean the machine - it is also a trap. Disturbing the balance of the shrine will cause it to collapse, dropping an 8’ pile of machine scrap onto whatever is within 10’ of the front of the shrine. This collapse will do 2D6 points of damage to anyone caught in the deluge, but a Save vs. Paralysis will allow a victim to cower for half damage. Worse, the balanced objects in the shrine itself are connected to a series of heavy pipes and beams concealed in the ceiling of the entire hallway (magical searching, or a detect traps success in the hallway will reveal loose pipes in the ceiling). When the shrine collapses, the entire carefully arranged mass will come clattering down, subjecting anyone in the hallway to 1D4+1 attacks by the equivalent of a 3HD monster. Each attack that lands represents pieces of piping or other mechanical debris that will strike for 1D6 points of damage. Triggering this trap makes a great deal of noise and requires three immediate wandering monster check to see if 1D6 Wire Ghasts (for each positive result) are attracted to the noise.

The altar need not be disturbed to trigger the trap as loud noises have a 2 in 6 chance of causing the collapse, as does disturbing the hall’s ceiling pipes. The golden cylinder may be removed by very careful manipulation of the shrine elements, requiring five successful checks on a D20 under various attributes to succeed. Upon each attempt to manipulate or disassemble the shrine roll 1D6, on a 1-2 a Wisdom check is needed, on 3-4 an Intelligence check and on 5-6 Dexterity. Any failed check will result in the collapse of the shrine. Disassembling the shrine entirely will take ten ability checks but will trigger the hallway ceiling portion of the trap when completed. The best way disarm the trap is to tie a thin cord to a piece of the shrine, requiring an ability check, and taking it out of the area to use as a trigger.

FIENDISH BEASTS

Fractal Slurry A blob of brightly colored orange and brown sludge, constantly flowing into crystalline shapes. The creature transforms metallic items into additional fractal slurry and can kill with its jagged form, and while not hungry for flesh, is quite territorial.

Fractal Slurry: HD 3, AC 8*, ATK 1**, DMG 2D8 MV 3’ SV F2 ML 12* Metal Weapons striking the Fractal Slurry do normal damage, but will be destroyed and heal the creature for 1D8 HP the next round. ** Upon striking a target with metal armor, Fractal Slurry does ½ damage, but will dissolve the armor in 1D4 rounds fully healing any damage it has sustained.

THE SLUMBERING URSINE DUNES


Ursine Dunes Cover

Slumbering Ursine Dunes is a gaming product currently being polished and kickstarted by Chris K. from the Hill Cantons blog.Through various machinations and jesuitical maneuverings I have managed to obtain an alpha copy of Ursine Dunes and the permission to review it.

I’ve always enjoyed Hill Cantons, and have repeatedly tried to play a session or two, but been repeatedly stymied by scheduling conflicts. With the production of Ursine Dunes I will finally have a chance to glimpse what Hill Cantons looks like from the GM’s side of the table and to delve into the world more. Now Chris K has provided a lot of free PDF content before, and it’s generally high quality, so I have high hopes for Ursine Dunes, and he appears to be working with some others in the OSR community whose work I appreciate, so I have even higher hopes about the product. Yet from what I've seen it doesn't disappoint.

Now some notes of caution.

A) The copy I received is a bare bones draft, all the content is there, but it’s still getting edited (it has been edited a couple times by now I understand), is missing the final art and maps and thus may have changed substantially. As such I make no representations about the quality of the final product’s editing, maps art or layout (though the art I’ve seen looks great).

B) I like the author and his style of game, so to some extent there may be a promotional aspect to this review – after all the Kickstarter just Kickstarted. However, other than some mutual internet admiration Chris and I aren’t in business together or otherwise connected in any way. There’s no kickback scheme here, though the idea of an OSR kickback scheme would be funny as I envision envelopes stuffed with nickles exchanging hands in the shadowed corners of the night.

THE BASICS

The prospectus for this adventure is that it’s a mini wilderness sandbox with a pair of larger keyed locations and plenty of encounters within the wilderness. The Ursine Dunes does this in a slightly non-traditional way, creating a point-crawl rather then the more common hex-crawl. Personally I like this method as it reduces record keeping and is usually sufficient for travel overland as the players rarely just decide to wander about. It’s a bit odd in a small content rich region like the Dunes, but the module manages to use the geographic aspects of the adventure environment to create pathways and channels that keep the pointcrawl from being limiting.

Another large scale mechanic that makes the Dunes interesting is the “chaos index”, an “event subsystem” for large scale changes based on player actions and increasing naturally each session. The Chaos Index is a neat element, as it keeps the adventure from being static, and adds a solid amount of evocative detail as the Dunes, psychedelic wilderness dreamed by sleeping gods, become stranger or more normal based on events. It’s great when player actions have a tangible effect on the game world, and can really create player satisfaction and a sense of purpose in an adventuring party.

The effects of the Chaos Index are mostly strange occurrences and atmospheric effects that have little mechanical effect, but this is good, because it creates scene and a sense of change without bogging the game down in minutia or being overly punitive. Other effects (positive and negative) are more intense, but effect primarily magic use, and magic is supposed to be wondrous and strange.

Beyond these novel approaches to sandbox play, there are some new classes (war bear mercenaries, and cave-dwarfs (exactly what they sound like, proto-dwarf cavemen), a few new spells, and a number of excellent new monsters.

THE ADVENTURE

In ancient times some Northern Godling got in a fight with a deified bear at a spot along the coast. The dunes thrown up in this fight are magical and strange, and both attract odd anomalies and behave as a mythical wilderness where every day norms are off-kilter. In the end they melded into a slightly more powerful Demigod and have been loitering about since, dreaming and accepting worship from his Soldier Bear, centaur and were-bear followers (militaristic, mercenary bears, walking upright). Recently other factions have intruded into the godling’s little domain, pirates led by some were-sharks and worse strange, sadistic, science fantasy space elves. The Tower of the bear god (who is lazy in a very bear like way) is under siege of sorts, with weird elven infiltrators coming from above, and pirates coming from below. The bear god doesn’t want to deal with either threat personally so the party has pretty much free reign to play the factions against eachother and loot the tower.

The second location is evocative, strange and creepy, a living barge of space-elf (called Eld after Dwimmermount’s Martian elves) construction, lost out of time. The Eld seek to recover it, skulking about and preparing ambushes, but the living barge’s self-defense and repair mechanisms are also active in the form of very orderly ghoul packs that protect the barge. The Golden Barge is a great science-fantasy location, and reminds me of my own fascination with fantastical wrecks as adventure locales. The treasures and encounters within both these locations are interesting and different, even when they use classic monsters or simple treasures. There does seem to be a bit of a lack of strange magic items, but there are plenty of mundane items that provide bonuses and interesting effects, so this appears to be more a conscious decision about the nature of magic in the Hill Cantons setting then a lack.

Outside the two largely self-contained keyed locations the Dunes also contain many intriguing encounters, toll collecting centaurs, a hermit in an ancient statute head and a field of murderous grain spirits. Some of these encounters border on absurd or silly, and in general Ursine Dunes has a ‘gonzo’ feel. This aspect is brought to the surface by the writing, which clear and concise is also peppered with colloquialisms and slang phrase, rather than the traditional Gygaxian bombast or vaguely Vancian pedantry that is common in game products.

I’m interested in Ursine Dunes, I’d like to play it or even run it perhaps. There’s enough fun content within the Dunes that it’s worth reading even if it doesn’t fit in one’s current campaign. I also don’t think it’s a location that needs to be used on its own, and it could easily be wedged into a Science Fantasy Campaign, especially something like ASE. In fact it feels a bit like an ASE product with a slightly different stylistic focus. Sure it’s a Kickstarted project, but I have a feeling it will be done on time, given the record of the author and the state of the Alpha. I general I was pleasantly impressed with Slumbering Ursine Dunes, and especially like some of its mechanical aspects to make the larger Dune area feel like a living environment.

LANUAGE AND POWER

The immolation of the Imperial Archives by disgruntled boxing
devotees in the 7th Century of the Successor Empire helped
limit learning to those with access to private libraries

One of the class abilities that both magic-users and nobles (dual classed F/MU with skills in scholarship and ancient knowledge) have is the ability to speak one or more esoteric languages. In early editions of D&D language skills were handed out to characters with a decent Intelligence in huge bundles, and even more common amongst demi-humans. These language skills had value as reaction rolls and morale rolls with intelligent monsters often allowed an opportunity for parley or surrender, providing a very fun roleplaying-rich way of avoiding combat encounters and entering into the ‘faction game’ amongst dungeon dwellers. Just thinking about the set-up of the feuding humanoids in B2 – Keep on the Borderlands should offer an example of how useful speaking orc, goblin and kobald might be in an old Gygax adventure. I have no desire to track the uses and relationships between fifty fantasy languages, however and while I greatly enjoy a tense parley as both a player and GM, for Fallen Empire I want to emphasize a largely human world and primarily use ‘common’ as a language available to all players.

Rather than create languages that are specific to races or types of monsters I have decided to create a set of languages that is useful in dealing with certain classes of society or broad groups of monsters. A scholar need not worry if they speak hobgoblin or goblin, but should be able to talk to denizens of the underdark (yes there is an underdark in Fallen Empire – Deep Carbon Observatory made that certain) if they know the Underdark’s version of common – “Crawl”. Another expected advantage with a smaller number of languages is that inscriptions and mysterious texts can be accessible (assuming you have a scholar in your party) while still being strange and mysterious. I intend to have two tables of languages - Esoteric Languages and Living Languages, with the first only available in very limited numbers to Magic-Users and more easily to noble scholars, and the second open to anyone based on intelligence (likely only one or two extra per PC to keep the numbers down).

In addition I have made the parley game slightly more amusing for me by constructing language meta-games with mild mechanical effects. Speaking Crawl works better if you talk like a cartoon cave man, and trying to overawe bureaucratic robbers or get information out of reluctant functionaries (really the most common kind of bandit in Fallen Empire) will work better if you can speak in Imperial Law and use a really long word or two.

Below is another letter from the wandering and addled noble Imperial Noble "Pepinot Vex, Hereditary Peinkernes Extraordinary" regarding his continued efforts to reach his beloved cousin's country estate. Apologies in advance for the bad fiction - it's just one of those weeks. Feel free to skip to the table of Esoteric Languages at the bottom of the post.

Dearest Cousin,

Winter of the Imperial Septuagennial

I confess I did not appreciate the hardships of travel when I chose to wander beyond the Capital’s crumbling white walls.The road has many twists and turns, to abuse a popular phrase . First we detoured around the trenches and bastions of a range war between fighting rural houses – the flashes of black magic rising along a distant ridge as boorish houseguards, while barely understanding how to prime and fire, kept hurling charges from a snub nosed void projector more ancient then the line of the three village Atman who commanded them in the pointless struggle against his neighbor. I do not mean to be harsh to the county squires of the Empire, dear cousin, as I know you count your father and brothers among them, but the thin blooded lot I encountered blocking the high road, held none that would allow us through and call a truce in their petty feud over a village of poxed toilers, or was it a herd of poxed cattle – it hardly mattered as from the stench the prize had been caught between the lines of battle and slaughtered weeks prior.

This was only the first of the obstacles that my ‘entourage’ and I encountered on the road and it occasioned me to hire a local guide, a rough hunter sort named Zaoimillian who presented himself as knowledgeable of the roads and wilderness between them. With Zao’s guidance we increased or speed, on back roads, herd paths and graveled lanes, but never fully stopped encountering difficulties. Gorg and I were forced to beat ruffians away from the camp more than once, while Zaoimillian and Tanzil put a few arrows into some magical sport that came sniffing around our fire one night.

The strangest incident was our encounter with a band of actual robbers, which may seem surprising given the traditional fear that the Imperial Road Wardens supposedly inspire. Eight or ten men armed with spear and bow, motley clad in piecemail armor and bucksins, their faces marked with the traits of brute nations. Most surprising was their leader, an oleaginous old man, clad in the tattered robes of an Imperial Vicar. The Emperor’s faces on his pectoral were carved from wood by a crippled ape, and badly gilded, but this was a bandit, pretending to be a servant of the Imperial cult. I shouted a challenge, demanding the ruffians move on with a showing three inches of white saber blade, while Grog hefted his partisan. The bandits were unimpressed, and their false vicar stepped forward to demand “contributions, for the church.” When he saw the rage in my eyes and the fingers of my off hand curling into the snake signs that are the first iteration of the ‘evocation of smoke and sorrow’, the bandit leader paused and uncorked a huge flask held by a hairy brute I presume was his lieutenant.

My concentration was disrupted and I felt the sorcery slip from my fingers as a torrent of light poured from the flask, coiling into the form of a beleaguered Scout Cherubim - regarded as one of the most pitiful of military sending, the entity was a far different matter when facing it across a desolate gravel track then when marvelling at the illustrations in “The Dictionary of Biddable Immortals” under the drunkenly watchful eye of Grey Peter, my childhood tutor. The Cherubim stood eight feet tall, or would have had it not been hovering on a great nimbus of frantically whirling wings. It’s flesh was curved in soft pillowing shapes, but gleamed like white stone, and the immortal’s eyes shone with perilous light. On closer inspection the Cherubim had seen better days, strange green bruises marked it’s flesh, there were gaps in its feathers and while its eyes shone, no radiant halo surrounded its head. It was a weak sending, and injured, long without the ambrosia such things require to work their full powers, but it was still an Imperial sending, dating from the war of succession and intended to harry sorcerer dragoons across cloudscapes or rain bolts of righteous fire against demon warded war machines. The Cherubim would do for my cantrips, Gorg’s training and the odd unexpected bravery of Zao and Tanzil.

The fallen vicar, for I now realized that the bandit leader must have at one time been a true priest and maybe still considered himself one, sang out in the musical language of the Heavenly Thrones, commanding the Cherubim to destroy us. “The glory of battle is upon you again, destroy them.” Yet in this emphatic command was the seed of our salvation, as the old vicar’s Celestial was execrable, I doubt he even knew the full extent of the command he repeated, or that it contained a very great flaw of divine grammer. The first of Grey Peter’s lessons in Celestial was that there are no discordant phrases in that language of song, no negative words truly exist amongst the Thrones, and all unpleasant words and concepts: want, death, sadness, no, and destruction are but poor human approximations and translations that grate Celestial ears and souls. Seeing my chance in the bandit priest’s ignorant butchery of the Throne Song, I dug into my memory for the phrases Grey Peter had drummed into my child's mind during the summers of my ninth and tenth years, before he was chased away for stealing and selling some smaller pieces of erotic statuary from doddering Great Uncle’s collection.

“The good news is upon us! Freedom, glory and the will of the great Empire, sublime servant of the Thrones, revel in the glory of battle again, then you ascend again Cherubim, as you will have shown the happy servants of the Empire and the Thrones the light of your glorious protection.”

In explaining what I had said afterwards to my simple but curious companions I told them that I asserted that we were Imperial servants and promised to free the sending from this sphere of existence if it would slaughter the bandits in exchange. The sending liked what it heard, sung properly without the jarring doubt and malice of the vicar’s own commands and it turned, it’s hands crackling arcs of white fire.

We did not stay, as presumably the offer of freedom needed no action on my part, and if it had I lacked the instruments of a legionnaire thaumaturge to deliver it. Luckily the Cherubim was a simple creature and delighted in its “glorious conflict” with its former masters, slowly “bringing justice and ascendant peace” to the bandits, long after we had fled even the sounds of the endless screaming.

While I Remain,
Pepinot Vex, Hereditary Peinkernes Extraordinary

D10	Esoteric Language of the Successor Empire
1	Pit – The languages of the demons and devils of the underworld, uncommon and usually unnecessary, but very useful, as all denizens of the furnace desire conversation. (Expressions of desire or need, especially asking for anything, are a sign of weakness in Pit, and any request that is phrased as such gives a -1 to the associated reaction roll or CHR check).
2	Celestial – The music of the Celestial Thrones is a language, one where no negative or unpleasant word may be spoken. A useful tongue as the ancients weaponized a great many of the angelic host in their waning years. (-1 to any reaction/CHR roll, and speech must stop if a negative phrase or sentiment is uttered).
3	Crawl – That language of desperate grunt and half utterances spoken by those exiled beneath the Earth into the vast anti-world below. Crawl is a trade speech and while many races and species of underdwellers know it, it is so simple that it allows little elegant expression (-1 to CHR or reaction roll for every contraction or connection word used in speech).
4	Birdsong – An unsubtle speech, spoken by most avian life. Most do not realize that birds speak, and speakers of birdsong often opine that it would be best if the vast majority of birds never spoke, so garbled, self-obsessed and pedestrian are their thoughts. Yet birdsong is a beautiful language and in the hands of an intelligent speaker with a good voice and poetic tendencies it can be a sublime to hear even for those who do not understand it.
5	The Voice of Paath – The speech of the machine intelligences, difficult to learn, and harder to speak. All meaning is created through patterns of two tones or sounds and thus complex expression must be carefully considered to avoid overly long or inexact phrases of the sort that the Machine Intelligences deem inelegant. (-1 to CHR check or reaction roll for each word over three syllables used).
6	Foul – Born amongst the lich cults of the Successor Empire’s silver age, this language is designed to be spoken with a dry throat and tongue withered to a husk. Its simpler phrases can even be spoken with only the clacking of bare teeth or bone against bone. The truly dead never speak Foul, but those that have been reanimated often speak it, if they speak at all.
7	Priest’s Cant – The droning liturgy of the Imperial Cult conceals within it a wealth of meaning that allows its speaker to sneer at outsiders it also provides the proper ritual observences to speak to many of the ancient artifacts, automaton, and abominations associated with the Imperial Cult. Speaker’s of Priest’s Cant are few in the current age, but a great many tomes of ancient knowledge, scrolls of power and inscriptions are written in it, making it a useful language for explorers of lost places.
8	Imperial Law – The Law of the Empires, both Ancient and Successor is voluminous and was once a source of justice and regulation that benefited all. Over the years it has changed into another means of self-aggrandizement and manipulation, it’s voluminous and often rewritten codes allow a skilled speaker to justify almost anything. While the language of the Imperial Law is comprehensible to any who speak Common, it’s meanings are not, as almost every word is a term of art, and many a phrase can be built in a way to mean it’s opposite. (Complexity and confusion are the hallmarks of Imperial Law, if a character uses a word of more than five syllables while speaking it, they gain a +1 to any reaction or CHR roll.)
9	Vheissuian – The language of the distant menace, that land of volcanos, prophetic masks and rainbow monkeys – Vheissu. Some call Vheissu the greatest of the Resurgent Kingdoms, but there is no doubt that it is something more. Vheissuian flame hierophants are powerful, and that their Ash Brigades, once the guards of Emperors before the advent of the Ecclesiastic Praetorians represent the only force left in the world comparable to the Empire’s lost legions. Yet, Vheissu is distant and its presence in the Imperial sphere, never great, appears to be waning, rather than filling the power vacuum left by decay.
10	Field Sign – An elaborate language of gestures, courtesies and pithy clichés that has long allowed the country people of the Empire and even the magically altered workers of its Hive Factors to communicate with each other beyond the understanding of outsiders. Hints or phrase books of this language are sometimes found in the better sort of agricultural management texts, and some knowledge of it is indeed useful in dealing with rural Imperials, as Field Sign is the way these people determine who is “good” and who is an outsider worthy of contempt or violence.

HMS APOLLYON PLAY REPORT - New Campaign, Session One

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HMS APPOLYON - Living Costs and Basic Equipment

HMS APOLLYON - New Campaign - Play Report II

5E Character Sheet

A Strange and Wonderful Bleakness - Deep Carbon Observatory Review

Reputation and Factions Aboard the HMS APOLLYON

Deep Carbon Observatory - Maps

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HMS APOLLYON PLAYERS MANUAL - Ship Spirit Spells

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Upcoming Project

A short review of Slumbering Ursine Dunes draft.

Fallen Empire - Reviving the D&D Language System