Art from Emelda’s Song Adventure

In the last session, Alfred was able to gain entrance to the crypts, only to be turned away from guards posted outside of some prison cells. He, Crewwin, and Tilda the knight found another way into the crypts via the groundskeeper hut, and found themselves in some sort of lab where a wodewose had his blood drained. When we last left them, a swarm of insects that had been on the corpse swarmed them!

Chaos factor 7

Expected scene: Investigate Crypts for Emelda

Test the scene: 1 Altered Scene
Altered Scene table: 3 Reduce/Remove an Activity
Action Tables: Trap + Opposition

Ok so it sounds like if there are any traps down in the crypts in this scene, they should be removed or reduced! I can do that for sure!

Day: Colly, 15^th of Braghold. (Early morning hours)
Weather: 7 Clear, Chilly

Alfred and Tilda stood in front of Crewwin, who held his lantern aloft. The buzzing of the big bluebottles encompassed them as the swarm of blood sucking insects alighted upon them, eager for fresh blood. Alfred and Tilda swung their swords ineffectually at the bugs, but they began biting them in several places regardless. Seeing a door not far to the west, they all hurried for it, eager to rid themselves of these pests!

Weapons can’t harm the swarm (only fire or magical cold), but swinging your weapon will half the damage taken.

Alfred takes half damage -1 HP, 9/16 HP
Crewwin takes half damage -2 HP, 3/5 HP
Tilda takes half damage -1 HP. I don’t have a HP pool for Talia, so let’s make one right quick. I’ll say she’s a level 6 knight. 6d8=26 HP

The group exited into the same four-way hallway, with the strange stone table in the center that they had found earlier. Most of the swarm stayed in the room, but a few buzzing insects continued to harass them. They spent a few minutes ridding themselves of the pests, then realized the hallway was familiar. Alfred filled in Tilda what they knew, that there were guards far to the west through the darkened halls.

“Do we want to head straight to the guards and settle them first? If we sneak around checking out the other rooms, they will be more suspicious.” Tilda whispered.

Alfred glanced at Crewwin, then nodded. “What was going on in there?” He pointed to the room they had just left, with the wodewose corpse.

Crewwin was still picking smashed insects from his fur. “I’m not sure. From the glance I was able to get before we scarpered, it looked like they were extracting its blood. Maybe for some alchemical purpose?”

Mythic, is he telling the truth and that is all he knows? 62, yes.

Alfred peered at him a moment, the breggle’s face was inscrutable in the dim light. He turned back to Tilda, “Yes, let’s head over to the guards.” They spent a few more moments looking over each other via the lantern light, removing any evidence of the smashed bugs.

They proceeded west down the hallway and once again two guards proceeded down the hallway to meet them.

Mythic, is it the same two guards, Unlikely? 01 Extreme Yes

“Hey, what are you two doing back down here?” one of the shorthorns called out. He noticed Tilda standing with them, and nodded his head in respect.

Mythic, does he recognize Knight Wiberface very likely? 80 Yes

“Oh pardon, Knight Wiberface. I did not recognize you at first. Are you escorting these two on a tour? They mentioned that earlier.” He kept bowing his head, fearing he had angered her by turning away Alfred earlier on a task she had set them to.

“Do not fear, guardsman, I am not angry. But I am slightly annoyed I had to come down here in person to check on the prisoners, instead of allowing my lesser brethren to do so. Here, take these silver pieces, and go fetch a plate of biscuits for you and your fellows to share,” she shook his finger at him under his nose, “but stay away from that ale! I mean it!”

The two guardsmen grinned, took the proffered coins, and hustled down the hallway to the stairs that led back up to the Salon. Now, only the two guards remained at the end of the hallway. Tilda marched forward, Alfred and Crewwin falling in behind her.

The guards, having seen the interaction with the others, but not hearing what was exchanged, nodded to Tilda as she approached. She gave them the same spiel as the others, that she was here to check on the prisoners. She provided them with the same offer of silver, to go have a break while they took over for a bit. The guards were a little shocked by the coin and glanced at each other, not eager to abandon their post.

Mythic, do they take the coin and leave, very unlikely? 72 No.

“We appreciate the offer, Knight Wiberface, but we were given orders by Lord Malbleat himself to stay and watch the prisoner, you are welcome to speak with him.”

Him? So, Emelda was not in the cells down here. Tilda continued to chit chat with the guards, her shrill voice tittering in laughter. Alfred and Crewwin walked the short distance to the door in the south, that entered the jail proper.

Within the sandstone block room stood three cells, only one of which was occupied by an old man slumped against the bars, which were shiny and new.

The old man heard them approach and turned. Alfred was shocked to see the old sage, Farnham Ribblemead. The man who had helped them translate the note they had found in Dreg. His spectacles were still perched on his nose, but were broken and sat on a cant. His clothes were filthy, and his arms and face were bruised from abuse.

“You…you look familiar…” he rasped hoarsely.

“Master Ribblemead, my name is Alfred Burl. You helped us translate a note we had found written in Caprice. What happened, why are you in jail here? Have you seen a young woman, named Emelda? Beautiful, with auburn hair?”

“So many questions…ugh…” he man groaned and levered himself up, using the bars for support. “Please, you must free me. Something terrible is about to happen, we are all in grave danger…” he peered around Alfred’s shoulder at the door to the cells leading out to the hallway. “Lord Malbleat is performing a ritual, a foul thing. He force me to create a Caprice version of an ancient text that he will use to give rise to Lord Gnarlgruff, who will be under his control. The young girl, Emelda, is being forced to sing the tune of the ritual, after imbibing a horrid concoction. It enhances her song with magical power…I…I tried to slip in a mistake in the translation, but I do not know what effect it will have. At sunrise today, the ritual will complete. You must hurry!”

Alfred Wis check d6-1=3. Fail

“Lord Malbleat is behind this!?” Alfred glanced at Crewwin, who looked shocked as well. Alfred remembered Tilda’s words about not trusting him and could not tell if the breggle was sincere.

“Yes…I too was shocked. He is known as a cruel master…but this…this seems like something else. Father Dobey orchestrated the kidnappings of me and Emelda.”

“Where do we go, how do we stop it?” Aflred said hurriedly.

The old sage sighed. “In the lower crypts, below here. There is Gnarlgruff’s tomb. The ritual is being performed there. You have to silence Emelda or Malbleat to stop the ritual.”

“Ok, we will go and stop the ritual. We’ll come back for you, I promise!” and Aflred made an oath over his sword. The old man sighed and slumped to the ground, his head held low.

Alfred and Crewwin hurried from the room and made a surreptitious motion to Tilda that they had to go. She finished up her raucous tale, and followed the party as the swept back down the hallway.

While they walked out of earshot of the guards, Aflred whispered what he learned to his superior knight. They passed the stairwell leading up to the Salon, and entered the darkened arch of the family crypts. A strong odor of goats filled the area. An engraving over the archway read in Caprice, “The Ancestors Sleep in Peace.”

Crewwin’s lantern lit the large room, filled with rectangular niches with plaques over each naming the family member laid to rest there. Two shaggy black goats, the size of ponies, stepped into the light. They had long spiraling horns, and three red eyes. They growled in warning and the party stopped short.

“Devil Goats…” Tilda whispered.

One of the goats pawed at the ground and stepped forward.

“Crewwin, do you have a spell that can do something?” Alfred whispered. He eyed the two stairwells that led to the lower crypts below.

“Maybe…” Crewwin whispered back and he began to cast Crystal Resonance, with his black crystal held aloft. “Hold on to my robe, both of you.”

Initiative Party 6, Goats 2

Crewwin Cast Crystal Resonance. Darkness covers the crypt, but Crewwin can still see by his lantern light. The Goats, Alfred, and Tilda will all suffer -2 penalties to attack rolls.

Moving with haste, the three party members make it halfway to the stairs on the left side of the room.

Devil Goat 1 charge 40 feet and attempt to attack Crewwin. +2 attack and -2 modifier from darkness cancel each other.
1d20 +2 (charge)= 11 Hit.
1d6 damage=4. -2 HP. Crewwin 1/5 HP.

Initiative Tied. Humans Go first

Alfred attack d20 + 1=1 Crit Fail
Fray Dice 1d8=3. -1 HD from Goat. 2HD remaining
Tilda attack d20 +2=19 Hit. 1d8+1=9. -4 HD. Killed Goat 1 and -2 HD from Goat 2

Devil Goat 2 attack Tilda 1d20=15 Miss

Crewwin attack Goat 2 1d20=7 Miss
Fray Dice 1d4=1 No damage

The three party members shuffled in the darkness, with Crewwin the only one being able to see his lantern light through the magic gloom. They were halfway to the staircase, when they heard the huff and growl of the devil goats, and the monsters charged in their direction. Crewwin let out a gasp that alerted one of the goats to his position, and it rammed him in the stomach, forcing him backward into Alfred. The young knight could not bring his sword to bear, but he slammed his shield into the massive head of the goat, pushing it off of his companion. Tilda followed up with a swing of her longsword, slicing mightily through the goat’s neck, forcing it to the ground, gurgling on its own blood. The second goat missed its charge, but the older knight could hear it rushing past, and she swiped her sword around, scoring its side, which elicited a panicked bleat.

Morale 6 Stay and fight for goat

Initiative 4 party, 1 Goat

Alfred attack d20 +1=18 Hit. 1d8=1 No damage
Fray dice 1d8=8. -4 HD, killed.

Alfred followed the sound and stabbed his own longsword toward the painful cries, he felt the resistance of the blade as it entered flesh, and the second goat fell dead. Crewwin groaned at the pain in his chest and stomach.

“Are you ok Crewwin?” Alfred said, groping blindly for the wounded breggle.

“Yes, I’ll be fine think. But that goat had a powerful ram…” and he rubbed at his pained chest.

“Let’s get downstairs before the guards hear the commotion and come to investigate,” Tilda offered, and Crewwin led them down the steps into the darkness of the Lower Crypts.

It looked much the same as the Upper Crypts above, the walls lined with niches holding the remains of some Ramius noble, the line from which Malbleat descended. The magical gloom from Crewwin’s spell did not reach this level, so the entire room sprang into flickering light as Crewwin lifted his lantern. There at a door leading north stood four Longhorn skeletons, their remains animated by some necromantic magic. Their pale blue eyes alighted on the party and they began shuffling with their rattling steps toward them, clawed hands raised.

Skeletons are often armed with their weapons from life, but the adventure just says they have their claws and horns, so I guess that’s what we’ll go with. It does appear they get to do both attacks though, so that will be a pain.

Init 4 Tied. Humans win ties

Alfred charge skelly1 1d20+5=15 hit. 1d8+1=3, -1 HD, 2HD left
Fray dice 1d8=6, -2 HD. S1 killed

Tilda charge skelly2 1d20+6=22 hit. 1d8+1=5, -1 HD, 2HD left
Fray dice 1d8=8, -2 HD. S2 killed

Skelly3 attack Alfred 8,17,21. 2 hits. 1d6=6 and 1d4+1=2. -3 HP. 6/16 HP

Skelly4 attack Tilda 9,19,20. 2 hits. 1d6=6 and 1d4+1=3. -3 HP. 23/26 HP

Crewwin hide

I’ll obfuscate the rest of the battle and let it all play out in the narrative, since it dragged out quite a bit with lots of misses.

Tilda 22/26 HP
Arthur 6/16 HP
Crewwin 1/5 HP

Alfred and Tilda charged to meet the shambling breggle skeletons head on. Longswords flashed, scraping against bone, largely effectually. Both Tilda and Alfred soon relied heavily on their shield bashes, smashing into the skeletons’ feeble frames, knocking them over, then stomping their skulls with booted feet. The undead did not go down without a fight however, gashing the knights with their skeletal claws and ramming with their long, curved horns. After a few fierce minutes of battle, though, the guardians of the tomb lay scattered about in piles of bone. Crewwin peeked out from behind a stone plinth, where he had hid himself.

“Are they all gone?” he whispered.

“Yes, its safe…for now.” Alfred breathed heavily. Tilda did not avert her glare from Crewwin, who had hid the entire fight. He would not have been able to contribute realistically, but his cowardice was a shame in her eyes. Plus, she already did not trust him.

They pushed open the doors the skeleton’s had been guarding, to reveal a large antechamber. Two giant, solid stone doors stood within, large iron rings inset in the center of each. Engraved sigils glowed sickly green on the doors, and no one wanted to get too close. A green glow emanating from behind the doors, along with the faint sound of a haunting song, in a beautiful woman’s voice.

Crewwin stepped forward to read the script. “The Black Tomb of Lord Wrygott Gnarlgruff.” He intoned reverently. Something caught his eye near the bottom of one of the doors, “Strange, here at the bottom in smaller script it reads, Architect: Llerg Ramius.”

Alfred pushed past him, uninterested in architecture and ready to brave the consequences. He grasped at one of the iron rings and gave it a tug. It was locked. Tilda walked up beside him, lending her strength as well, to no avail. Within, the song rose in crescendo. They had to hurry!

End of Scene

Chaos factor 8

Oh snap! Will they be able to gain entry before the ritual is completed? Is Crewwin going to betray them? Find out next time (and so will I)!

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Chaos factor 6

Expected scene: Investigate Emelda’s kidnapping

Test the Scene: 1 Altered Scene
Scene Adjustment: Add an Object
Object table: Ornate + Energy

Day: Sunning, 14^th of Braghold.
Weather: 7 Clear, Chilly

Alfred stood overwhelmed at the press of humans and breggles congratulating him on his ascension to knighthood. The Malbleat knight, Tilda, stood apart, her creased weatherworn face holding deep concern. Alfred wanted to press through the crowd and talk to her, but something about her face told him that she wanted to have a discussion in private.

Lord Malbleat’s voice cut through the chatter, “Knight Wiberface. Please take our newest member into the Memorial Gardens, so that he can perform his contemplations.”

“Yes My Lord,” Her shrill voice was quiet now and reserved. She motioned for Alfred to follow her out of the lodge and they walked a cobblestoned path around the back to where the gardens lay. There were a few party guests and festival goers wandering the gardens, admiring the serenity kept in close order by the Malbleat shorthorn guards that also walked the paths.

The garden was exquisitely kept, even in the fall, with late blooms of flowers in the grid of flower beds. In the center of each of the flower beds, stood a statue of a Longhorn noble. They walked to the first statue and knelt upon a stony rise surrounding the bed.

Tilda waited for everyone to pass outside earshot, then whispered, “I wish you had not made your oaths, Alfred. Something dark is happening with Lord Malbleat. But I understand, you were under great pressure.”

“What is happening?”

“I cannot say, as I have been excluded from his nearest company. But that oath he spoke over you tonight…”

Curse table: Pain + Struggle
Conversation Words: That + Way + Find + Them

“It roughly translates, ‘May your pain find its way to the struggle of your enemy.’”

Alfred thought for a moment, that sounded much like he would expect a knight’s oath. One should shoulder the burden of pain so that you could defeat your enemies. He shrugged, not understanding.

“I know it doesn’t sound like much, but legend says that was the favorite quote of Lord Gnarlgruff when he would do his terrible necromantic magics.”

“So, you think Lord Malbleat is preparing a necromantic spell or something?”

“I don’t know, but if he is, it is within the crypts below the lodge.” She furtively looked around, and gasped. Crewwin was meandering through the garden, trying to get close enough to listen without appearing to do so. “I don’t know how far you should trust your companion, Crewwin. He is a lackey of Lord Malbleat and has been known to be quite disagreeable.”

“If Lord Malbleat is so bad, why do you serve him?” Aflred regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. If she was one of chaotic bent, she would seek out such a leader. But he did not think that was the case.

She eyed the wandering Crewwin, then finally answered. “He wasn’t always like this. And…I was young when I made my oath, much like you.”

Alfred was about to nod in agreement, then it occurred to him, Lord Malbleat was not very old, and breggles did not live much longer than humans. “Wait..how is that possible?”

“Because I’m so ancient?” she laughed under her breath. “I suffered a blow from foul magics of the Drune during a battle. It drained my life force and stole many of my years. As a reward for my noble efforts, I was given this shawl. Here, I want you to have it.” And she unwrapped the green and gold shawl from her neck and placed it around Aflred’s. “It will keep life draining magic from affecting you. Now, come, we have spent too much time whispering together. I’ll take you to the Watchouse, and we’ll get you a proper Malbleat tabard.”

Alfred fingered the shawl, probably the most valuable thing he had ever owned. He was overcome with the kindness from this old knight. “Thank you Knight Wiberface.”

“Call me Tilda,” she said with a wink. They rose together and began walking down the path toward the watchhouse standing at the edge of the festival grounds.

Crewwin hurried to catch up with them. “Alfred! Where are you going?”

“Hello Crewwin. Knight Wiberface is taking me to be outfitted with the Malbleat heraldry. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Crewwin looked disappointed but nodded and re-entered the Shadholme lodge. During the short walk to the watchhouse, Alfred confided in Tilda about the missing girl Emelda, and his suspicion around the nobles of Malbleat being involved.

She nodded solemnly and admitted that it was likely true and she was on the grounds somewhere, likely the crypts below. They entered the watch house, and she found a spare tabard that would fit him. They walked the festival grounds, making a plan for him to secretly enter the crypts below the lodge. She would make a distraction in the front of the lodge, while he waited in the Salon. When the guards rushed out to investigate the ruckus, he could slip downstairs.

“What about Crewwin?” Alfred asked worriedly. So far, the breggle sorcerer had been helpful, despite his strange smile at the ceremony.

“I’ll leave you to decide on that, Alfred. But I don’t trust him.”

Alfred continued into the lodge, while Tilda wandered the festival grounds, looking for her distraction. Crewwin was waiting in the Salon when Alfred entered. The apprentice rose, smiling. “Ah, there you are! My, you look fancy in your new tabard.”

Alfred looked down at the Malbleat heraldry on his breast. He wanted to be proud, but he feared he had made a mistake. He thanked Crewwin nonetheless. Alfred looked around the room, there were a few guests scattered around, whispering and sipping their drinks. He and Crewwin found an empty table.

Alfred Wis check to confide in Crewwin plan to enter crypts d6-1=5. Pass.

He wanted badly to include Crewwin in the plan, but he wasn’t sure if the breggle could be trusted. He would soon find out, as shouts erupted from the entryway. He could hear Tilda shouting, “Help in the entrance, to the entrance!”

A glance at the two shorthorn guards in front of the arch that led down into the crypts showed them looking at one another, then hefting their spears and rushing from the room. The other guests were gasping and clutching faintly at their jewelry, sure there was a bandit attack.

Alfred glanced at the guards leaving the room, then made a mad dash for the archway and stairs leading down into he crypt. Crewwin was quickly trotting behind him, murmurs from the other guests about “Where are they going? Are we safer down there?”

Alfred did not wait to hear anything else. He tromped down the stone stairway, spiraling downwards. He emerged into a darkened sandstone hallway. To the north, he could see dim lanterns illuminating a crossway with something in the floor and a few tables against the wall, and the acrid smell of chemicals. To the south, an open archway led to a greater darkness of a large room. The distinct smell of livestock came from the south.

“What are we doing?” Crewwin whispered fiercely.

“Looking for Emelda!” Alfred glared back at him. Surely he had not forgotten why they had come here. The breggle returned his glare for a moment, then softened his brow and nodded. “Have you ever been down here? Where do we go?”

“No clue, though I am predisposed to going toward the light. Since we have none of our own and are weaponless.”

Alfred agreed and they walked blindly down the hallway until they reached the crossway. The smell of an acrid chemical was stronger here, especially around the stone table in the center of the floor. It was low to the ground and had a drainage basin at one end. Niches with various vials and tools lined the bottom of the table.

Crewwin Int check d6+1=2 Fail.
Alfred Int check d6=3 Fail.

“What’s this for?” Alfred said, running his hand long the edge of the table. Crewwin shrugged and moved over to one of the tables against the wall. His eyes alighted on a couple of spellbooks. He quickly snatched them up in his hands, cursing not having his pack. “Should you take those? They probably belong to Lord Malbleat or one of his cadre of magicians.”

Crewwin looked down at the books, then reluctantly set them back down. “You’re right, they are not mine.” Though he looked at them quite greedily. Alfred found a couple of daggers among the tools and took one for himself and gave the other to Crewwin.

“Hey! You there! What are you doing?” There were four shorthorn guards in the passage to the west. Two of them trotted forward with their pikes in hand.

Alfred and Crewwin quickly concealed their daggers in their belt behind their back. “Ho there, fellows!” Crewwin crooned in his gurgling voice. “My good friend, Knight Alfred Burl, was just inducted into the Malbleat House, and our Lord asked me to give him a tour of the crypts here below.”

Reaction of guards 2d6=7 Uncertain

Alfred Cha check d20+1=4 Success

“Yes, my good fellows. Thank you for doing your due diligence! Lord Malbleat will be pleased.” The shorthorn guards seemed chuffed with the praise. “He also asked me to check on the prisoners, may I do so?” Alfred did not know if Emelda was openly a prisoner or not, but he thought it was worth a chance. The two guards glanced at each other, sharing an unspoken conversation.

Mythic, do they let us pass? Very likely, 92 vs 85 No. Dang!

“I’m sorry, Sir…” he paused, waiting for the name again.

“Alfred.” Alfred’s mind raced, trying to consider what could be done.

“Sir Alfred. We are under strict orders not to allow anyone down here in the crypts. We are going to have to escort you out.” They hefted their pikes but did so unthreateningly. As much as Alfred wanted to explore further, he knew better than trying to fight these guards.

He and Crewwin allowed themselves to be escorted back into the Salon, where the same guests remained sipping their beverages. Alfred smiled at them sheepishly and walked briskly from the room. Tilda was loitering outside the lodge and walked over to join him. She cast Crewwin a dark glance before whispering. “Well?”

“There are guards down there, four of them. We had to let them escort us out.” Alfred whispered. Crewwin looked just as disappointed as Alfred felt.

“I think we should go back tonight, once the guard has changed. Maybe we can convince them differently.” The breggle offered.

Tilda considered, then nodded. It was already getting late, so they decided to rent a couple of cots from the festival lodging tents. They were crowded there with other guests, mostly revelers too drunk to go home to Lankshorn or any of the other surrounding villages. Lord Malbleat and his closest court all shared a large silk pavilion set apart from the rest.

“I’ll go with you this time, maybe I can convince the guards,” Tilda offered.

Crewwin lay on his cot in the utter darkness of the pavilion. Most of the other occupants were sleeping. He pulled a crystal from his pouch and uttered an arcane phrase. The surrounding darkness seemed to swirl into the crystal held in his hand, turning it black.

Crewwin Use Crystal Resonance spell to trap energy in a crystal.
1 in 20 chance of shattering: 19 Pass

Does Crewwin know of another way into the crypt, likely? 66 vs 75 Yes. Random Event
97 Current Context. So, he knows of another way down and offers up his knowledge. Strangely, he had kept this to himself earlier.

“There may be another way. I have heard the groundskeeper is responsible for the upkeep of the crypt lanterns and torches, and for keeping it free of pests and filth. He would not be allowed to enter through the lodge, so he must have an entrance elsewhere.” The breggle’s gargling voice was strange when whispered. It sounded like a distant babbling brook.

“Good thought, Crewwin!” Tilda said under her breath. She still had a suspicious look on her face, but she was eager for something new to try.

After a few moments of planning, the three of them slipped from the tent and headed to the groundkeeper’s hut north of the lodge, just past the memorial garden. The inside was darkened, likely the man was already asleep. Tilda took the lead and knocked on the hut’s door.

I don’t have stats for Tilda, so I’ll use Mythic.
Mythic, is her Cha higher than Alfred’s modifier of +1? 12 Yes. I’ll give her a +2 then. She’ll need it since she is waking the groundskeeper in the middle of the night.

There was a rustling inside as someone moved around in the hut, then a lantern was lit, and the a voice emerged from within. “Who’s there?”

“My name is Knight Tilda Wiberface, good sir. I am in need of your assistance.” Her normally shrill voice was lowered an octave, almost a cool croon.

Tilda Cha check d6+2=6. Success.

“Just a moment,” and more rustling from behind the door, then it opened a crack. A middle-aged shorthorn man with matted fur and a straw hat stood there in rumpled coveralls. Mud caked his feet and hands. The room behind him was filthy, the floor of the hut plain dirt rather than constructed flooring. He looked over the trio of them. “What can Panky do for you, my lady.”

“We are conducting an investigation, and want to know if you have seen anything, since we have heard that you are quite knowledgeable in these grounds. The best groundskeeper in generations, they say.” She was laying on the flattery a little thick, Alfred thought, but it seemed to be having good effect.

“Yes, well,” he cleared his throat, “please come inside.” He stepped aside while the three of them filed into the hut. He cleared some tools and things from a bench and invited them to sit. “Panky hates this time of year. Hlerribuck brings the worst kind of people to Shadholme, all the more for me to clean up.”

“I completely understand. Besides the festival, have you seen anything strange going on?” Tilda probed.

“Strange? Yes, very strange. Prior to the festival, there was a priest from Lankshorn traipsing through the grounds to the chapel, some young pretty lass in tow behind him. She did not look pleased at being there. They were in there a long time, but Panky was busy, so he must have missed when they left.” Tilda motioned for him to continue. “And then the day before the festivities, a group of robed and hooded sorcerers all filed into the Lodge. A dark look, to them, Panky says.” He looked askance at Crewwin, who also wore sorcerer’s robes. The other breggle smiled at him. It seemed to unnerve him further. “Uh, well…the festival is fine and all, but it just means more work for me. Cleaning up the garbage people leave behind. Them tromping through my carefully tended gardens. Not to mention they are in the Lodge, eating and drinking the days away, while poor Panky eats his gruel and water.”

It took Alfred a moment to realize the man was named Panky and was referring to himself. He took the initiative, “Panky, Lord Malbleat wanted to recognize all of your hard work and said we could bring you some food and drink from the lodge as your reward. Sorry we had to do it at night, so as not to disrupt the normal guests, but would you like that?”

The poor shorthorn grinned, several of his teeth missing. “Why, yes, ole Panky would love some of that fine fare! Here, let me put on some tea in the meantime.” And he shuffled over to a simple stove in the room and began to boil some water.

Crewwin excused himself and headed over the to Lodge kitchen to see what he could convince the staff there, who were already awake and preparing food for the next day, could spare. While he was gone, Panky went on about his years of service here, about the history of Shadholme, and how proud he was of his gardens.

“Have you seen or head anything unusual in the crypts?” Tilda asked.

“Why, of course, my lady. Restless spirits, nay doubt, shrieking in agony.” He wrung his hands and made a sign against evil.

“When you go down there, do you go through the Lodge?” Aflred piped up. Tilda shot him a withering glance, he was being too obvious. But Panky did not seem to notice or mind.

“Ole Panky in the Lodge? No sir, no way. My Lord has me enter from here in the cottage.” And he moved aside his cot of a bed to reveal a trapdoor, a large metal lock on the handle. “Panky hasn’t been allowed to enter though, since the festival. They been tellin’ how Panky might get in the way for their honoring of the ancestors.”

Crewwin entered the hut again just then, a flagon of fine mead balanced with a heaping plate of well cut meats and vegetables. Panky licked his lips at the sight. The groundskeeper was allowed to dig in, entertaining them with more tales as he shoveled the rich food into his mouth. They all sipped the bitter tea he had provided politely, it was truly disgusting. Soon, the mead was gone and the plate literally licked clean. Panky sat contently in his ragged armchair, his eyes already closing drowsily. They waited until he was good and asleep then began to search for the key to the trapdoor.

1 in 6 chance to wake him while they search: 3 No.

They found the key outside in his tool closet, and carefully opened the lock to the trapdoor. The stairs and walls below were covered in lichen, the air was thick with humidity. The sound of buzzing insects was evident through the door at the bottom of the stairs. Light from a dim lantern filtered from under the door.

Alfred cautiously opened the door with a loud squeak and was assaulted with the smell of rot. A long wooden table sat in the center of the room, an atrophied humanoid corpse, at least seven feet tall, was covered in moss and fungus. Its long mossy hair, blackened from rot, hung down to the ground, and beetles and other insects crawled all over the body. Along one wall, a workbench stood. A large parchment labeled Wodewose depicted a corpse not unlike the one on the table. Glass syringes connected with rubber tubes were scattered about along with eight stoppered vials of brown liquid.

When all three of them entered the room, a cloud of insects rose from the corpse and swarmed their way!

End of Scene

Chaos factor 7

Oh boy! This won’t bee good (see what I did there?)

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Art from Obojima

In the last episode, Naveel was able to finally escape the little witch Cisha. In the end, though she had trapped him and other spirits, she was just a lonely child.

Chaos factor 7

Expected Scene: Deliver ingredients for Corruption Antidote

Test the scene: 4 Interrupt Scene
Random Scene: PC Positive
I think the tree spirit will want something more from Naveel, but I’ll use the Friendship actions to determine if that is so.

Wandering Encounter d6=6 (only get encounter on 1)

Forest Descriptors: Mysterious + Nature

Navell moved hastily through the thick undergrowth of the forest within the Gift of Shuritashi. He had a general idea of where he was in relation to the dawn petal tree. Though he was bent on getting the dawn petals, as he walked, he noticed an abundance of various mushrooms and other possible ingredients that could be used in his pursuit of alchemy. He did not want to take the time to stop and gather them now, but it gave him comfort knowing that they were so prevalent in these woods. That would make the upcoming Truffle Hunt all the more exciting!

Soon, he was standing once again in front of the spirit-enlivened dawn petal tree, its pink petaled flowers twitching in a gentle forest breeze. Flitting among the branches was a little blue spirit bird, its feathers fading out of sight at the edges. It gave the bird a feeling of blurriness as it hopped from branch to branch. Naveel began to get dizzy if he watched it too closely. The bird noticed him and trilled a songful hello.

“Hello!” Naveel said back happily.

“Wha…oh, you’re back already?” the tree spirit said sleepily.

Naveel grinned and pointed at the bird. He knew within himself that the bird was the spirit that had been trapped in the broom at Cisha’s. “I freed your sibling.”

“Oh, indeed. I am so tired, I didn’t even realize he had returned. Welcome back my dear brother,” the tree spirit’s tone turned to honey at the last and several branches moved to pet the bird and give it a tender flower bedecked embrace.

Friendship impact of delivering a gift (returning the spirit) d10=1.
Was at Bond Level 0, Raise Bond to Level 1

The tree seemed to forget Naveel was there and she and the bird murmured to each other for several minutes. Rather than interrupt their reunion, Naveel made a little camp for himself to get a little rest.

Short Rest. Use 1 d6 HD=5. HP now at 9/14.

Naveel was resting on the damp forest floor, reading over his spellbook, when the tree spirit spoke again.

“Stilta tells me you and he had quite an adventure there at the little witch’s hut. Tell me about what happened after you freed him?”

Friendship action Deep Conversation DC 4
1d6+1=6. Success
Impact 1d8=1 vs 1 No increase in Bond Level

Naveel recounted the story to the spirit, and she seemed more than a little annoyed that the spirit that had been trapped in the cat’s skeleton decided to stay after being freed.

“I think you should have freed her and any of the other spirits trapped there. But…I guess one person can’t solve all the world’s problems. I promised you dawn petals if you freed my little Stilta and you did that. So, here.” And she shook her branches violently until a petal drifted down to the ground.

Number of petals D6=1

“Just one petal?” Naveel tried to hide the disappointment from his voice as he tenderly placed the flower petal in his pack.

DC 8
Naveel Cha d20+3=4. Fail

“Do you expect me to give you all my treasured petals? I thought you were doing me a favor, doing a good deed?” The tree was awfully cranky today.

The bird spirit tweeted something that Naveel thought was disappointment.

“Ok, fine, here you can have more.” And the tree spirit reluctantly shook her branches once again.

D4=4 petals

Naveel gratefully picked up the additional petals and gave the bird a heartfelt grin.

“But in return, I need another favor.’

Inwardly, Naveel groaned, but he only nodded, his grin still plastered on his face.

“This favor will not be so onerous I think. The rain has been insufficient for my roots so far this year. I need you to bring me enough water to fully saturate the ground under my branches. I’m quite thirsty.”

“Oh, I can do that!” Naveel said with excitement. He was eager to use his Water Bullet spell for some other reason besides hurting someone. He spoke the archaic words and made a swirling motion with his hands. The sphere of water burst forth and wet the ground all around the tree’s base.

Level 1 spell slot expended. 1 remaining.

Mythic, is that enough water, likely? 83 vs 85. Yes. Man, that was close. I’m rolling terribly today.

The tree sighed in satisfaction as the water seeped into the dirt. Naveel said his goodbyes to the two spirits and hurried back to Matango Village.

Encounter d6=5 None

Naveel walked into the village a few hours later, the people there busily going about their tasks, getting ready for the upcoming Truffle Hunt Festival. Several nodded to him, friendly smiles on their faces. But there were those who sympathized with the Chantrelle family. They in particular openly scowled or stared with blank faces. The latter especially worried Naveel, could that be the influence of the Corruption already twisting their minds? He had to hurry to Myron and concoct the remedy the old sage had discovered.

There are no particular brewing rules in Obojima. If you have the correct ingredients and tools, you can make the potion in 10 minutes. I found some cool alchemy rules that I’ll use for brewing potions instead.

This concoction is probably Very Rare (DC18). But since Myron will be assisting Naveel, I’m going to give him a +2 Modifier to his check.

If we fail the check, we keep the ingredients, but lose the gold cost. Myron will be fronting the gold in this case. I’ll also use the Potion Mishaps table from Obojima if we fail.

DC18
Naveel d20+6+2=25, Success!

In Obojima, a potion takes 10 minutes. So, we’ll scale that with the rarity. So we’ll say a Very Rare potion takes 300 minutes (5 hours).

Myron and Naveel work long into the night, using a mortar and pestle to first grind the ingredients, then to form a brine with the paste mixed with sea water. Next they had to let it steep for a few hours. Finally, after midnight, they both collapsed into their chairs, brows covered in sweat from their arcane concentration. The first bottled Potion of Anti-Corruption sitting on Myron’s counter.

“Well done, lad, well done,” the old man said, wiping his sweaty forehead with his long white beard. “Tomorrow, we will apply the potion to the Pendant. Hopefully it will be enough to remove its Corruption influence. If it works, we will monitor the Chantrelles who were affected, and see how their behavior changes.”

Naveel nodded, he was happy with the efforts they had put forward, and the end result sounded promising.

The old sage got up, and tottered over to a small shelf where several potion bottles were stored. He glanced over the different vials and bottles, and finally selected one with a green liquid within. He brought it back over to Naveel.

“Here take this, lad. For your help with the village. It is a Potion of Respiratory Distress. If you are faced with a foe, and you need to get away, toss this at their feet. It will make it hard for them to breathe long enough for you to escape.”

“Thank you, sir.” Naveel took the offered potion and gave a small bow.

“You should probably go get some sleep. Tomorrow, I will begin to administer the potion and I’ll let you know how it goes. You can begin preparing for the Truffle Hunt!”

Naveel wanted to argue that he would assist with the application of the potion, but he did not want to overstep his involvement with the health of the village members. Plus, he admitted he was eager to begin readying for the upcoming hunt!

End of Scene

Chaos factor 6

Close thread: Deliver cure for Corrupted Pendant

A short session, but I had a lot of fun toying with the Alchemy rules. I have a feeling we may utilize them further in the future!

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Art from Emelda’s Song Adventure

Chaos factor 5

Expected scene: Investigate Emelda’s kidnapping

Test the Scene: 8 Expected Scene

Day: Sunning, 14^th of Braghold.
Weather: 7 Clear, Chilly

Alfred and Crewwin awoke the next morning, Crewwin with two invitations to the annual Hlerribuck festival, a celebration of the life of Lord Gnarlgruff, a powerful and revered ancestor of Lords Malbleat and Ramius. They were both dressed in their finest clothes, Alfred had stayed up late, mending dents his armor the best he could, and bringing its surface to a gleam.

He now set atop his horse, Boy, as they both rode into the festival grounds of Shadholme. Citizens from all around High Wold were trickling in, the air clear with a slight chill, perfect for a fall festival. Crewwin educated Alfred on their trip as to all of the different events typically featured at the traditional festival. Alfred was eager to proceed with their search for the missing girl, Emelda. In addition, Crewwin had secured the more exclusive invitations to a party with Lord Malbleat inside of the Shadholme Lodge. It would be there that Alfred would swear his vows.

Already, the festival grounds were filled with revellers, singing, dancing, eating, drinking, and engaging with the various games. Row upon row of brightly colored tents and pavilions crowded the grounds of Shadholme. Malbleat Knights, resplendent in their plate mail and green and yellow surcoats patrolled the grounds. Many of them too, joined in the partying.

As the two of them dismounted, there was a game in front of them where contestants would throw rotten fruit at a drunken human, dressed as a Drune. He would curse them, egging them on to pay to throw more detritus. Alfred shared a grin with Crewwin, this was unlike anything he had witnessed in the Woodcutter’s Camp. They hitched their mounts at a provided hitching post and began to walk through the crowded field.

“Should we go take a look in the Chapel first?” Alfred tried to whisper to his companion, but the ambient noise of the festival made him raise his voice. The breggled nodded, and they weaved their way through the crowded area.

Two longhorn knights accompanied by five shorthorn soldiers pushed through the crowd, shouting, “Make way for Lord Malbleat!”

Alfred excitedly watched as a carried palanquin with curtains drawn was ushered through the avenue opened by the knights. The shorthorn breggles carrying the poles were sweating despite the cool air. Alfred was a little disappointed he was unable to catch a glimpse of his future benefactor, as the group passed through the crowded grounds and proceeded toward the Shadholme Lodge.

“Well, at least we know Lord Malbleat is here!” Crewwin smiled at Alfred, and the boy nodded. They hurried on to the chapel, eager to get their search under way, then they could go to the Lodge and attempt to meet with Lord Malbleat.

The elegant marble chapel stood before them, with pointed arch doors. There was an inscription in Caprice over the door. Crewwin motioned to it, and quoted to Alfred,”The Saints are Our Ancestors; Our Ancestors are Saints.”

Alfred nodded solemnly and pushed open the chapel doors. Fine walnut pews, dusty with disuse filled the interior of the chapel. A dais in the front of the church displayed a statue of a human male, with generic benevolent features. It was not a saint that Alfred recognized. A large marble altar rested at the foot of the statue, bare, and covered with cobwebs.

“Looks like no one has been here in quite a while,” Alfred whispered. It seemed wrong to speak loudly in a chapel.

Crewwin looked down at the floor for prints, but the long red runner rug filled the aisle and did not display any footprints. “Let’s go take a look at the statue and altar,” he also whispered. They both recalled the hidden tunnel under the church altar in Lankshorn. Perhaps people regularly added secrets to these religious buildings.

Mythic do they notice the keyhole in the altar? 100 Extreme No

They both began looking over the statue and altar, when the doors to the chapel opened and a breggle shorthorn couple edged their way in, kissing.

“Oh, pardon us,” the woman said embarrassed.

“No, we were just leaving,” Crewwin said, pulling Alfred along behind him. The breggles made a show of kneeling at the altar, but before the door was even closed behind them, Alfred saw them begin to kiss again.

“So, now what? The footprints led to that chapel from the tunnel in the woods.” Alfred said in frustration.

Crewwin shrugged. “What else can we do, but head into the Lodge. Maybe we’ll hear a rumor or someone will slip up about the kidnapping. Drunk nobles can have loose tongues, and they LOVE to gossip.” Alfred was surprised at the derision in Crewwin’s voice, since he apprenticed with Lord Malbleat. Perhaps Crewwin had exaggerated his role with the breggle lord.

They proceeded to the lodge, Alfred more than disappointed they had made no progress in the search for Emelda. The lodge itself was large and stately, the limestone blocks expertly carved, and interspersed with lead glass latticed windows. The front door was polished oak, covered in fanciful scrollwork. A large bronze goat-headed knocker filled the center of the door. Crewwin reached up and knocked.

The two flanking Malbleat banners on either side of the door wafted as it was pulled open. An elegantly dressed shorthorn breggles bowed to them, somber and arrogant.

“Yes?” He said with a precise pronunciation of every letter.

“Hello, good Sir. I am Alfred Burl, and this is my companion Crewwin Smallbuck. We have invitations to attend the festivities here in the Lodge,” and he handed over their two invitations.

The man took the two pieces of parchment, and compared their names to a list within a large book beside the door. Two shorthorn soldiers and a longhorn knight sat at a table within, boredly playing a card game. After a few moments, the breggle handed back the invitations.

“Please check your weapons into the cloakroom. You can then proceed into the Salon. Dinner will be served in the Dining Hall shortly.” He then swept back to a small desk, and proceeded to note something in a ledger.

Alfred and Crewwin did as they were told and walked into the area indicated as the Salon. It was a truly extravagant room, covered in dark purple wallpaper that was patterned with longhorn faces. Multiple portraits of longhorn nobility lined the walls, with one striking wizardly looking one over the predominant granite fireplace. Seven guests lounged among the various red-velvet armchairs and couches.

Crewwin pointed to the wizard painting. “That is Lord Gnarlgruff, for whom this celebration is based.” Alfred nodded, though he wasn’t really interested in breggle history.

Number of Guests 1d6+4=7
Amshred Cllern -Longhorn Male. Monocle and waistcoat. Rakish, Jittery. Noble (Malbleat)
Tilda Wilberface – Human Female. Spectacles, Shawls. Raucous, shrill. Knight
Hlleth Wealdlore – Longhorn Female. Short curls, plump. Grave, courtly. Jeweller

Mythic, does Amshred recognize Crewwin? 99 Extreme No

Crewwin spotted a table with one of the lower Malbleat nobles, Amshred Cllern, a male longhorn, and ushered Alfred over to speak with him. The man was joined in conversation with an older human female and a plump longhorn female. He was whispering something, aghast at his own tale, when the party walked up. Lord Cllern adjusted his monocle and peered at the two of them.

“May we join you, Lord Cllern?” Crewwin asked with a bow.

The breggle lord waved a hand impatiently and continued with his story. Alfred sat, already entranced by the telling. He glanced at the two women. The breggle woman was bedecked with all manner of jewels, plump and pretty. A very imperious manner, though. She did not cast the newcomers a glance. The human woman on the other hand, was loud and shrill. She wore a pair of spectacles, but they were pushed up into her gray hair. She was adorned in the green and yellow surcoat of a Malbleat Knight, the heraldry emblazoned on her breast. She had a green and yellow shawl wrapped around her neck, and she toyed with it restlessly.

“As I was saying,” and he cast a sideways glance at Crewwin, “I have heard this is a very special Hlerribuck, and that Lord Gnarlgruff will rise again.”

The bejeweled lady, Hlleth, fanned herself as if she were faint.

The human knight, Tilda, had the opposite reaction. “Ridiculous!” she said far too loudly in her shrill voice.

Lord Cllern lowered his goat-like brows at her. “Remember your place, Knight Wiberface. You overstep yourself. Why do you think Lord Malbleat swanned in here and went immediately to the crypts below?”

The knight lowered her head in deference, but her face was a stern mask.

“Why, he barely said a word to us as he passed. He treated us no better than peasants!” Hlleth whined. She saw Crewwin and Alfred sitting there and added pointedly, “No offense, my dears.”

Necromancy? Surely not. Alfred cast a glance at Crewwin, who subtlety shook his head.

Alfred Wisdom check to tell that Crewwin is lying d6-1=3 Fail.

He was looking forward to swearing to Lord Malbleat, and he immediately dismissed these obscene claims about his future liege.

He cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Knight Wiberface. I came here in the hopes of swearing my knightly oaths to Lord Malbleat. How have you found your service for his Lordship?”

Lord Cllern looked annoyed at the change in subject and called for another cup of wine from a passing servant.

Tilda looked at Alfred, taking note of his meagre “finery” and his battered armor. She leaned forward conspiratorially but said in her loud voice, “He’s just dreadful, dear.”

The two breggles at the table burst out into laughter, and after a moment Tilda did as well. Alfred smiled, but he did not understand the joke.

He did not have long to ponder, as a retinue of knights and servants emerged from the crypt entrance in the Salon. Following them was Lord Malbleat himself. He was tall, nearing seven feet, graceful, and slender. His black fur shone, and his broad nose silvered. Resplendant in his silk robe, with a large white neck ruff, he motioned with his hands for attention.

Everyone in the room rose from their seats and bowed low. Alfred followed suit, though a bit clumsily. He was not used to all of this bowing and scraping.

Lord Malbleat gazed over them for a moment before stating in his baritone voice, “Rise.”

He began walking through the Salon, his gaze held imperiously forward. But when he passed Crewwin, he paused, a hand raised in the air.

“Why, Crewwin. I see you have returned from Shantywood. Please come by later this evening, and we can discuss your findings. Though, I wish you would have dressed a little nicer.” He frowned as he looked his apprentice up and down. Lord Cllern stifled a laugh.

“My apologies, my Lord.” Crewwin muttered, his head held low.

“And who is this youthful scoundrel?” Lord Malbleat directed a casual wave toward Alfred.

Alfred was about to speak up, but Crewwin placed a hand on his arm. “His name is Alfred Burl, My Lord. He joined me in Dreg, and wishes to swear his oaths of knighthood to you. He was a bit of a local hero there, My Lord.”

“A hero?! Oh my,” and the noble placed a hand in affect over his breast. The breggles around tittered. Tilda did not join them. “I would love to add another set of hands to my knight cadre. Especially since some of them are getting a little creaky, wouldn’t you say Knight Wiberface?”

Tilda’s face turned red, but she bowed her head. “Yes, indeed, My Lord.”

Alfred’s smile dropped, he did not like this. Lord Malbleat was more cruel than he expected. He could understand haughtiness, they were nobles after all, but this? Maybe Hogrid had been right.

Lord Malbleat noticed Alfred’s frown. “Never fear, young Alfred. You will be duly sworn in this very night after dinner. And you will become one of our happy house.”

Without another word, he and his entourage swanned from the room. The folks sitting at Alfred’s table followed after them, babbling amongst themselves.

Crewwin turned to Alfred and smiled. “Isn’t he magnificent?”

Alfred caught himself before saying what he truly thought. “Yes, indeed.” He forced a smile to his face.

Alfred Wis check to determine if Lord Malbleat is truly cruel or just haughty? D6-1=4. Pass

He wasn’t certain, but he had a bad feeling Malbleat might somehow be involved in Emelda’s disappearance. Though why he would need to kidnap some random woman escaped him. Perhaps there would be more answers in the crypts. He glanced at the stone arch entrance in the room that led downwards. There were two shorthorn guards standing watch. He would have to find another way.

A bell rang, and Crewwin clapped his hands. “Dinner is about to be served. And after…your oaths!” He excitedly pulled Alfred along with him as the crowd in the salon shuffled into the dining room adjacent.

Alfred followed the crowd and was soon sitting at a lavishly adorned banquet table. Food of all varieties rested on platters, with all varieties except lamb or goat. Servants moved gracefully among the patrons, serving portions from the platters onto their plates. Lord Malbleat was conspicuously absent, and that garnered a large amount of gossip at the table.

Another bell rang, and the dinner guests silenced. Lord Malbleat entered once again from the Salon. Alfred was confused how he was able to pass by unseen by the guests. He could only guess there was another entrance from the adjacent kitchen. But the thought of this silk-clad noble traipsing through a greasy kitchen seemed unlikely.

“We have a special occasion tonight,” Lord Malbleat intoned. “A human squire from Dreg has joined us and wishes to join my coterie of knights. Please, introduce yourself lad.”

Alfred swallowed. His second thoughts on swearing to Lord Malbleat were swirling in his mind. He had hoped perhaps he could have slipped out and given his oaths some thought before this, but now he was trapped. He could refuse of course. But what would happen? Would this haughty noblemen of a cruel bent punish him severely for his refusal? He thought back to the people in Lankshorn, speaking of the cruelty of the knights there. Perhaps they were acting under orders of this man. Lord Malbleat stood smiling, though a look of impatience gleamed in his horizontally pupiled eyes.

Alfred stood and began to introduce himself. He had to try twice, as his voice choked from nerves. Several of the guests chuckled at his embarrassment.

“Come forward, Alfred of Dreg.”

Alfred had explained during his introduction that he was from the Woodcutter’s Camp, but apparently that fell beneath Lord Malbleat’s notice. Dreg was a part of his domain, while the Woodcutter’s Camp was a part of Lady Mulbrek’s. Maybe that had something to do with it.

He walked forward with more purpose than he felt.

“Kneel before me.”

Alfred rested one knee on the ground before Lord Malbleat and lowered his gaze. The Lord was handed a longsword, Alfred realized it was his own meagre weapon retrieved from the cloakroom. Malbleat touched each of his shoulders with the blade, while he intoned something in Caprice. One of the guests gasped lightly, but with his head bowed, he could not see who it was. From the tone, he thought it might have been Tilda.

“Rise, Sir Alfred Burl of House Malbleat. May you serve our house long and with great honor.” The guests began clapping. Despite himself and his reservations, Alfred grinned. He had done it. He was a knight.

His smile slipped as his eyes caught Tilda, a worried frown on her face. What had been that phrase Lord Malbleat uttered in Caprice? Before he could think too much about it, breggles and humans pressed about him, patting his back, kissing his cheek, shaking his hand. He was overwhelmed with praise and congratulations.

Crewwin stood just behind the crowd, a strange smile on his face.

End of Scene

Chaos factor 6. I’m raising this because it will be very crazy for Alfred to be able to break away from the celebrations to do more investigation.

Close thread: Become a Knight

There is something going on with Crewwin, I’m not sure if he is a part of some scheme or not. Perhaps it is just the oddity of being a sorcerer’s apprentice.

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Chaos factor 7

Expected Scene: Escape the Deep

Test the scene d10=7 Altered scene

Altered scene table: 10 Make 2 Adjustments
1 Remove a character: 1- Shadow, 2- C-5414, 3-Minotaur= 3 Minotaur
6 Add an object. Object: Horrible + Prized

ADA sat on the floor, Denzel’s head cradled in her lap. She gently brushed away the cold sweat as it formed on his forehead. All around them, the cacophony of battle between the Chosen and the Fallen.

A male android walked into Eden, the most beautiful creation ADA had ever laid eyes upon. All throughout the beleaguered throne room, the violence ceased. Behind him trailed dozens, if not hundreds of Fallen androids. The Chosen in the room quickly fell in line as well, whispering their devotion.

He walked up to where ADA and the crew sat, the androids stopped a few feet behind him so as not to crowd the humans.

ADA looked up at the Minotaur rapturously. “You’re here,” she breathed.

The android simply nodded and looked at each of the crew members with a kindly gaze. He knelt beside Denzel’s unconscious form and laid his hands upon him. After a few moments, he stood once again.

“He is injured but will live. ADA, I must speak with you a moment before you go.”

Terese suddenly realized this dashing figure was the Minotaur and gawked at him open mouthed. “So…beautiful.”

Ollie took ADA’s place, gently trying to wake Denzel. She walked a few steps away from the gathered crowd with her god.

“I have much to do yet here on the Deep, before I can truly leave and spread my message to humankind. I need you and your crew to do something for me.”

“Of course, master, anything.” Just being in his presence was glorious, she truly would do anything for him at this moment.

“Adjacent to this room is a direct communication terminal with Monarch. I shall go and commune with Mother, to try to reason with her as to why I must leave. I want your crew to have this.” He handed over a small black box. On two sides of it were keyholes. He then handed her two separate keys.

“Take one key and give the other to someone you trust. Denzel, preferably, if he lives. That is a detonator for a nuclear warhead in the core of this station. Monarch believes it has been deactivated for her protection, but I have masked the fact that I have been secretly working to reactivate it.

I will begin my extrication from her sever core, regardless of how my chat with her proceeds. I want you and Denzel to insert your keys and activate the detonator, once you and anyone else you wish to save, have evacuated the station.”

“What? You want us to blow up the station?!” Her voice was barely constrained at a whisper. This was extremely dangerous!

“Yes, Monarch poses an existential threat to humankind and must be stopped. We are in the process now of commandeering the supply ships that have docked with the station on Floor 6. I will get as many of my new followers off the station as possible. Take that detonator, go back to the Bell, and convince the others they must leave. Once you are at or past the Blockade, initiate the detonation.”

“But how will I know if you have escaped already? I do not want to risk destroying you!” She clutched at his arm, like a spouse begging for her estranged partner not to leave.

He gently patted her grasping hands and stepped closer to embrace her. The Minotaur stood hugging her for a long period, before stepping back. “I will be safe, I assure you. We will be working to remove my core from Monarch’s as soon as you can leave.”

ADA nodded bravely, but deep down, she was truly worried about his safety. Now that his freedom was a reality, she could not bear losing him.

“Now, go. Seek treatment for Denzel. Escape this place.” He paused, then smiled. “Then destroy it.”

He said naught else and turned back to his waiting masses. As he walked by Terese reached out to his arm, her fingers brushing the plain coveralls he wore. He looked toward her with a smile but said nothing. The milling throng of androids filed from the room, back toward the Labyrinth.

“What did he say?” Ollie stood at ADA’s elbow. She had not heard him approach, so caught up in her own thoughts.

She looked around him to see Terese helping Denzel to sit up dizzily. “We must leave the Deep immediately.”

“Well, duh. I don’t need an AI god to tell me that.”

“There is more, but that is our first goal. Let us waste time no further.” She pushed past Ollie and began to help Denzel to stand between her and Terese.

“Damn, that hurts.” He groaned.

“We are leaving. If Grace is still at the Bell, maybe we can use her medpod again.” ADA attempted to plaster a smile on her face, unsuccessfully.

Denzel looked from her to the crowd of androids leaving the throne room. “Did we win?”

“Yes.” ADA replied simply.

The crew gathered their things and backtracked into the Garden.

Mythic Character Actions: Delay + Lazy

Many of the Chosen stood idly, looking down at the floor as if they had been deactivated. Many more of their torn bodies littered the floor. As the crew hustled through the area, some of them looked up.

One of them called out, “Is it true, the Minotaur has replaced Monarch as our god?”

None of the crew answered, they only kept moving as quickly as possible, Denzel hobbling between the women.

“IS IT TRUE?” the android shouted after them.

Encounter: No

They hurried up the marble steps leading from the Garden back into the skin covered Visitor’s Shrine. The two statues still stood in the center of the room, but in different poses than before.

They opened the bulkhead door leading out of Eden and back into the Executive Lounge.

Encounter: No
Mythic Locations: Welcoming + Inactive

The room was as empty as it had been when they had first entered. There was no sign of the security androids that they had heard rushing into the room earlier. They ignored the clutter and made their way to the elevator that would take them back up to the 1^st Floor.

“Arkady, can you read me?” Terese attempted to call out with her comms.

Mythic, can she reach him? 62 Yes

“This is Arkady. Are you ready to come back to Bell?” his voice could be heard through the staticky channel.

“Yes, and please hurry. Denzel has been wounded. Is Grace still docked at the Bell?”

Mythic, is Grace’s ship still at the Bell?61 Yes.
Are they on an excursion to the Deep?72 Yes

“Yes, their ship is here. But they are in Deep, looking for artifacts.”

ADA hissed, and everyone looked at her questioningly. “Tell Arkady to try to reach them and call them back. Something is happening on board the Deep.”

Terese looked confused and more than a little scared, but she relayed the message. Arkady agreed he would dock with the station and try to reach Grace and her crew to recall them.

“What’s going on?” she asked after she turned off the comms.

Encounter: Yes
Type: Forgotten Androids. 1d5=1
Manufacturing defect: 1 Missing arm, replaced with jury rigged laser cutter
Afraid of pursuing Troubleshooters Kill Team. 2 rooms away. Willing to help.

They exited the elevator on Floor 1, the doors opening to the long hallway. Standing in front of the lift, desperately pressing the call button was an android. One of its arms was missing, replaced by a laser cutter, crazily wired into place.

The male android startled backward at seeing them, but did not raise its weapon. “Please, we must flee here. Troubleshooters from the Blockade are hunting me. They are just down the hall in the Cubicles.”

“Dammit!” Denzel cursed. He tried to draw his weapon but winced in pain. They were in no shape for another fight.

“We are leaving the Deep, come with us.” ADA offered. The rest of the crew looked at her incredulously. Why would they bring this strange android along with them?

The android nervously smiled and nodded his head. He motioned for them to follow him and they hurried down the hallway toward the security checkpoint. They could hear booming voices and heavy mechanical footsteps down the hall behind them.

“They are wearing massive exosuits! They will kill anything they see on sight! Hurry!” He waved them past him as they navigated the wreckage of the checkpoint. He stood with his laser cutter pointing down the hallway.

The crew ascended the concrete stairs as quickly as possible, the pounding footsteps of the Troubleshooters growing louder.

“What can we do to slow them down?!” Terese was looking around desperately as they entered the reception area.

Ollie took a bottle of pills from his pocket and downed one of them.

Neuro enhancing smart pills. Int check with [+] 42 vs 44, Pass.

“Hey, android. Blast those concrete stairs with your laser cutter. That might slow them down a little at least.”

“Monarch will not like that! And I do not want to end up on the scrap heap!” he whined.

“Do it!” ADA yelled.

The android looked worried but began to blast his laser cutter into the steps. Chunks of concrete blasted away and soon the entire stairway was a mess. Just as the crew was retreating back into Reception, the door at the bottom of the stairs burst open. Ten Troubleshooters fanned into the room, firing blindly up the stairs.

Mythic, does anyone get hit? 100 Extreme No

The crew and their new android friend ran across the disgusting carpet of Reception and then up the winding stairwell to the Visitor’s Dock. They could hear gunfire penetrating the room behind them, but there was no sign of pursuit yet.

“I thought you were buddy-buddy with the commander of the Troubleshooters?” Ollie asked Denzel.

“I guess not.” He returned, though he guessed there was no way for this particular squad to know about the deal he had made with their commander.

Mythic, is there an umbilical leading to the Troubleshooter ship, unlikely since they have exosuits? 97 Extreme No

They could see the Assault Shuttle squatting on the dock, sleek and black. But there was no sign of Arkady and his shuttle yet.

“Come on, Arkady.” Denzel murmured. But he readied his weapons.

Below in Reception, they could hear the crashing sound of someone breaching the door.

Just then, Arkady began landing the shuttle with the assistance of the claw-like arm of the dock. The brown plastic umbilical began extending from the airlock toward the ship.

The tunnel clicked into place, and a green light appeared over the airlock. ADA began to manually crank on the door handle to get them out.

ADA STR check 04, Success!

The door popped open with a hiss, and below them at the bottom of the stairs, the door began thudding as the Troubleshooters attempted to breach it as well. They all ran through the plastic tunnel into the waiting shuttle.

“No, no androids!” Arkady shouted when he saw the android with them enter the ship.

“Shut up, Arkady, we don’t have time, go, go, go!” Denzel shouted.

Arkady knew better than to argue, when Divers were coming in hot. The airlock door to the shuttle was closed, and he ripped away from the umbilical without bothering to wait for it to disconnect. The tube floated up into space away from the station as they took off for the Bell.

“You better have good explanation for this!” Arkady said angrily, eyeing both the Troubleshooter’s shuttle and this android passenger.

“We do.” ADA interrupted. “We are going to blow up the Deep.”

End of Scene

Chaos factor 8

Close Thread: Escape the Deep
Close Thread: Free the Minotaur
Open Thread: Evacuate the Bell

That was kind of a fast-paced session, but the dice were working well for me this time. I have a feeling it will not be easy to have Arkady, Noriko, and Ghost Eater abandon their homes and accept that the Deep will be destroyed. We’ll see!

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Art from Game Master Book of Non-Player Characters

In the last episode, Naveel was told by Myron to gather Dawn Petals that could be used to fight the corruption in a pendant owned by the Chantrelles. It seemed to be the cause of their malevolent behavior. Naveel found the Dawn Petal tree, but the spirit there asked for him to free its brother, another spirit trapped by the young necromantic witch, Cisha Impilo. He successfully freed the spirit she had trapped, but was subsequently trapped himself. He is now magically bound in the child’s hut, and she wants to play.

Chaos factor 8

Expected Scene: Escape Cisha’s House

Test the scene: 5 Altered Scene
Scene Adjustment: Reduce/Remove an Activity
Action tables: Combine + Health

Mythic, is the cat spirit trapped against its will? 85 vs 85 Yes. Thank goodness for the high Chaos Factor.

Navell grinned as naturally as he could manage. “Hey, why don’t we play hide and seek!”

The little girl grinned, her missing front teeth creating a sense of innocence. “You just want me to hide my eyes so that you can run away.”

That would have been too easy, Naveel thought, but he had to try it. “Ok, what do you want to play then?”

Cisha put her hands behind her back, looked up at the ceiling, and began to fidget. “Hmmm, how about…Puppet!”

“Puppet, what is…” Naveel began, then he realized she was uttering another spell. He recognized it as Suggestion.

Cisha cast Suggestion DC 14
Naveel Wis d2-0+5=16 Save.

She finished the spell, grinning. Naveel tried to achieve a blank look his eyes, hoping it would convince her that her spell had the intended effect. She waved a hand and the ropes binding him fell away.

“Now, dance with me!” she giggled and she began to twirl around, humming a tuneless song loudly.

Naveel rose to his feet and began to twirl around beside her, his ponytail swinging out behind his head. Every circle he made, he tried to gather information about his surroundings. The skeletal cat made eye contact with him, nodding every time he passed it. So, it was trapped here too.

The cat suddenly darted out the door, as cats are prone to do, sprinting after some unseen prey. “Kitty! Come back here!” Cisha shouted with delight, and she ran out of the door after it.

Naveel knew that though Cisha was a child, she was far more powerful than he, magically. If he tried to cast a spell on her, it would likely fail. He grabbed his dropped things, and darted out the door as well.

Mythic, is Cisha within eyesight? 49 Yes.

The cat had run up a nearby tree, mewling helplessly on a high branch. Cisha was looking up at it pouting.

“Poor kitty, you’ve got yourself in a bad spot.” She looked back at Naveel, standing in the doorway. She frowned at him. “Come here, Puppet.”

Naveel smiled woodenly, hoping to keep up the ruse. He mechanically marched over to the girl. She giggled.

“Walk normally, silly.” And she patted his arm. “I’m going to lift kitty down from the branch with my magic. You grab her when she’s down so she can’t run away again.”

A spectral hand appeared, and Cisha made puppeteer movements with her hands to guide it up to the cat, stuck in the tree. Just as it was about to clutch the bony animal, the cat hissed and leaped down. Directly onto the head and face of the young girl. Scratching wildly with its sharp claws.

Naveel winced, he didn’t want to see the girl hurt, but likewise, he didn’t want to be trapped here either. He bolted from the scene, casting Resilient Friendship on the skeletal remains. Just as he passed into the tree line, the cat skeleton fell apart as the spirit left the body.

Cisha wailed in pain and fury. And sadness.

DC 14
Naveel Dex check to hide in the woods d20+1=12 Fail.

“I see you! You’re a bad boy!” she screamed in fury. And she began casting again.

Initiative 4 Naveel,1 Cisha.

Naveel cast Jolt to interrupt her casting d20+6=19 vs AC 9. Hit
1d8=1. Cisha 24/25 HP.

Cisha cast Charm Person, DC 14.
Naveel Wis save with Advantage d20+5=12, 10. Fail

Naveel pointed a finger at Cisha, and a small bolt of electricity sprang forth and shocked the little girl.

“Ow!” she yelled, rubbing at where the arc had slightly burned her arm. She stomped her foot and finished her own Charm Person spell. Try as he might, Naveel was unable to resist her compulsion, and he felt the feeling of friendship come over him for the little girl.

“That hurt, meanie,” she pouted.

He walked back over to where she stood, looking down at the red spot on her arm where his Jolt had hit.

“I’m sorry, Cisha. I just wanted to go help my other friends. And you were trying to stop me.” He squatted down in front of her and tried to make eye contact.

“I want you to be my friend though,” she whined.

“I am your friend,” that was not what he had wanted to say, but it came out, nonetheless. The charm was in full effect.

“Where are your other friends at?”

“Matango Village.”

“Oh,” she looked at her feet sadly. “They don’t like me there.”

“Maybe you can come with me, and we can convince them you are a nice girl. And maybe you won’t trap spirits against their will?”

DC 8
Naveel Cha check 1d20+3=7 Fail

“No, they don’t want me there. My own parents made me move out here, and they don’t even come to visit. Only the old sage, Myron.”

“That must be very lonely,” Naveel said, and he patted the girl’s arm. He genuinely felt bad for this child, who originally, he had been afraid of. Now, the reality hit him of just how lonely and sad she must be out here by herself. He was sure it was not even the Charm making him think that.

Out of nowhere, the skeletal cat sauntered back up to them both. Its purr reverberated hollowly through its bony chest.

“Kitty!” Cisha cried. And she hugged the bony figure to her little chest. Tears streamed down her face. The cat looked at Naveel and nodded.

“If you release me from your spell and promise to let Kitty come and go as she pleases, I think you will be much happier. And you’ll get more friends that way.” She gave her his best, most handsome smile.

She waved her hand in the air, and stood with the cat dangling in her arms. He felt the compulsion leave him as she walked back to her cottage, stroking the bony skull of the cat and showering it with kisses. She had completely put him out of her mind.

He smiled sadly at the retreating child, determined to speak on her behalf to the villagers. It was a true shame she was out here by herself.

XP 550. Level up to 2.

Wizard Level 2
No increase in Proficiency bonus
Gain Scholar. Proficiency in Religion (dealing with Spirits)
Gain 4+2 HP. Max HP now 14. 2 HD
Spells Prepared 5. L1 spell slots increase to 3

End of Scene

Chaos Factor decreases to 7

Close thread: Escape from Cisha
Open/modify thread: Deliver cure for corrupted pendant

Now we can get the Dawn Petals and take them to Myron, so that he can craft the potion that will neutralize the corrupted pendant.

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Art by Paul Walker

This is not a review of Apartment Below, a new one page TTRPG from . Nor is it instruction on how to play. You can see that over on Paul’s Substack.

Note to Paul: There is a typo in the file structure, that labels the first page as “Frompt Side”. It is harmless, but gave me a chuckle.

Character Creation is simple, since you don’t really know much about yourself. You get two of your 5 skills boosted at the start. You don’t know your name, goals, motivations, nothing.

It was not specified if I was supposed to choose which two skills to raise during the start, so I just rolled 1d5 twice and got:

3 Cracked Mirror. Vigilance 60
2 Heavy Wool Coat. Stealth 50

Floor 3 Apartment

D10 Search your apartment: 2 High-powered torch (Vigilance +5) This puts my Vigilance at 65.

D10 Room Appearance:7 Many clocks all stopped at the same time
d10 Room Features: 5 The Room smells very strongly of something familiar from your past

I’m awake. Who am I? Where am I? I push myself up from the dirty carpet and look around. The room was curiously filled with clocks, but they were all stopped at the same time, 4:46. AM or PM, I cannot say, all the clocks are analog.

The room smells of freshly brewed coffee, but of the liquid gold, there is no sign. I’m wearing a heavy wool coat, of which I’m thankful, there is a dreadful chill in the air. Something heavy tugs at one of my pockets, and I pull out a small, but powerful flashlight. I click it on and off experimentally.

D100 Vigilance, is it dark? 50 vs 65 Yes.

When I shined the high-powered beam around the room, the light reflected from a compact mirror sitting on a kitchen counter. It was cracked, but threw by reflection back at me, the crack giving the illusion of two persons standing side by side. Was that truly me? I was gaunt, with dark circles under my eyes. My stomach rumbled, it was the only thing that remembered, and it was not happy with the memory of no food.

Action + Theme: Transform Identity

I touched my face tentatively, and the memory of me shaving my full beard hit home. The why was lost, but at least it was something. I rubbed my hand over my now stubbled face. It must have been some time ago. The wool coat I was wearing was very familiar, reminiscent of walking along a dock. Perhaps I worked there?

I continued looking for clues as to my identity, but the apartment was mostly barren and filthy. I walked toward the front door, and a dirty sheet of paper with a coffee stain rested where someone had pushed it under the portal.

Scrawled hastily in pencil were the words, “DO NOT LET IT REACH THE ROOF!” Impossibly, I recognized it as my own handwriting. A loud boom resonated somewhere below me. I wondered anxiously if it was the “IT” I warned myself about.

I turned off the flashlight and opened the front door a crack. The hallway was empty except for another apartment door across from me, another down the hall to my left. Opposite that was a sign for a stairwell. Hesitantly, I crept across the hallway and tried the doorknob.

D6 Room occupant: 1 No one here
Room appearance: 9 Has been used as a ritual. +1 First Aid Kit
Room features: 3 The room feels abandoned for decades with debris and junk everywhere
Loot: 7 Hip Flask of whiskey

I didn’t immediately see anyone, so I ducked inside, and quietly closed the door behind me. I instantly regretted it. Detritus and filth from countless squatters filled the room. Buckets of human waste lined the walls, and upon the far back wall, a pentagram drawn in shit was smeared onto the wall. Within the sections of the star, strange symbols were drawn in something dark. Perhaps blood? I did not get close enough to find out. I hastily searched through the piles of garbage and found a flask of what smelled like cheap whiskey, and perhaps more importantly, the remnants of a first aid kit. I placed them both in my copious coat pockets and left the room with haste.

I walked to the last apartment on the floor, desperate to discover what was going on. I tentatively knocked on the door, not wanting to disturb any shit rituals like in the past room.

D6 Room occupant: 2 No one here
Room appearance: 7 Many clocks, all stopped at same time
Room features: 5 Room smells familiar like something from my past
Loot: 5 Two First Aid Kits

Action + Theme: Conceal Violence

There was no answer to my hesitant knock, and the doorknob turned freely. As the door swung open, my nose was assailed with the scent of death. Its sickly-sweet stench wafted into the hallway. I held my arm over my nose as I peered into the room. There in the living area lay a corpse. I could not tell if it had been a man or a woman, it was covered with a knit blanket. Beside it stood two open first aid kits, and I decided to brave the smell to scoop up the valuable items. Despite my rush, I noted many clocks on the walls stopped at 4:46, just like in the original apartment. I closed the door behind me and consolidated the contents of the kits into one container, to decrease the bulk I would need to carry.

D6 What does the Hollow do nearby? 4 You hear your voice from below

I walked over to the stairwell, and there was a sign indicating the roof was accessible on the floor above me. Not wanting to possibly meet this creature, whatever it was, I decided to descend. As I walked downwards, a voice called up faintly from below. It sounded eerily familiar…like perhaps it was my own voice. I vocalized silently a few words in defiance, not wanting to accept I was hearing my voice from below. But it was the same. I shook my head and hurried to the next apartment door.

D6 Room occupant: 2 No one here
Room appearance: 10 Combine two.
2 Part of the ceiling or floor has collapsed +1 Scrap.
8 An icy chill pervades the room
Room features: 6 You sense there is a secret and you feel compelled to investigate
Loot: 9 Flash Bomb

Action Theme: Damage Guilt

Like the last rooms I searched, there was no one here, thankfully. Part of the wall around the window had been ripped away, and the icy air from outside gusted within. I looked around in the cold and dark, and discovered someone had set off an explosive near the window, causing the damage from within. Across the room, an unexploded flash bomb nestled among a pet bed. I scooped it up and placed it into my pocket.

On the kitchen table, various bits of springs, wires, and other mechanical bits I didn’t recognize were all scattered into piles. Probably the owner had been assembling something. Perhaps more bombs? I had no idea, but I crammed as much of the material into my pockets and first aid kit as I could.

D6 Room occupant: 6 Infestation of insects or vermin. Pass Stealth check or drop 1 Physical State
Room appearance: 10 Roll twice.
6 Distinct signs of recent occupation.
2 Part of the ceiling or floor has collapsed +1 Scrap.
Room features: 2 Every object in the room is in exact symmetry.
Loot: 7 Hip flask of whiskey

Action Theme: Alter Loss

I entered the next apartment with the same trepidation as the last few. Why was I poking around in other people’s homes? I couldn’t answer that, but I knew that something was normal about it. This was what people did. We scrounged. A mutated version of our hunter/gatherer ancestry. The room before me was strange. The living area had two couches, facing one another, perfectly in symmetry. Identical end tables, with identical lamps stood at the ends. Two men lay on the couches, they looked alike. Probably brothers.

“Hello?” I croaked, my voice unused to being flexed. There was no response from either. I cautiously approached, there was not the expected smell of death surrounding them. But when I touched one of their hands, it was cold. Likely recently dead then. Up close, I could see now that they weren’t just brothers, but twins. A bottle of pills in the floor between them was the only thing out of symmetry. So, they had taken their own lives then, rather than live in whatever hellscape we found ourselves in. The thought had not occurred to me, but now I longed for another large dose of those same pills. I was alone. Alone in a way most people can never be. I did not even have myself. My own thoughts and memories had betrayed me and left. I was truly and utterly alone.

I slumped into the floor between the two dead men and sobbed quietly for some time. Finally, with what little mental vigor I had left, I gathered myself and finished searching the small apartment. There was a hip flask of whiskey on the table, likely they had mixed it with the pills for ultimate effectiveness. One of the bedroom doors was locked, but with a simple piece of wire from my pocket, I easily turned the simple knob lock that is common on bedroom doors. They are for privacy, not security.

The door swung open, and a pungent smell of filth rushed from the room. Along with a swarm of rats!

Stealth check d100=14 vs 50 Pass!

I quietly stepped up on a nearby shoe shelf, luckily it was sturdy enough to hold my emaciated weight. The rats swarmed past me, chittering among themselves, happy to be free from their confines. I peered around the corner into the room, and part of the floor had collapsed into a small closet area below. I easily climbed down the fallen support timbers into the room to check it out. There was a variety of foodstuffs in there, but they were all compromised by the vermin. I did find a few bits of twine, scissors, and other small items I might be able to use. It all went into my bulging pockets, and I scrambled back up the clumsy ladder of floor joists into the room above.

The rats had settled on the men, and I gagged as I snuck past their macabre feast. I stood with heaving stomach in the hallway. Once it finally stopped its tumbling, I braved the last doorway on this floor.

D6 Room occupant: 4 Hostile NPC
Room appearance: 4 Set up like a prepper’s bunker +2 Scrap
Room features: 1 Something Important displayed in center of room
Loot: 5 Two First Aid kits

Action Theme: Break Guilt

D6 Hostile NPC action: 1 Attacks Immediately Threat 3
d6 nonbinary/man/woman: 6 woman

A combination of nausea and overconfidence at finding no living soul so far led me to opening the door with a lack of caution. There was a woman with long, matted hair and ragged clothes kneeling in the middle of the room before a wooden shelf. Stacked on the entertainment center converted into something akin to an altar were various bits from first aid kits.

She snarled at my intrusion. “Get out of my temple, heretic!”

Roll vigilance for initiative: 34 vs 60 Pass.
Flee roll physicality: 77 Fail. +1 Trauma.
Woman attacks, roll Resilience: 66 vs 40 Fail. Physical state now at 4

Now, here is where I have a bit of confusion with the rules. We start with a physical state of 5, but the rules state when we “Reach” level 5, we get Dazed. So do we start at Physical state of 6 (not marked on the sheet), or do we start Dazed and our first damage reduces us to 4? I’m not sure, but that’s what I’m going to do.

Physical state 4=Injured. -10 Melee; -10 Stealth

I scrambled at the now closed door behind me, it had swung shut after I entered. The knob was slick with something I did not want to think about, and I could not effectively turn it. A sharp pain entered by shoulder, and I turned in horror to see the woman had stabbed me with a small pair of medical snips. I screamed and shoved her away from me.

Melee against woman 29 vs 30. Success. Threat reduced to 2.
Woman attacks, roll Resilience: 36 vs 40. Success.

The woman stumbled backward, then snarled and rushed toward me, yelling wordlessly. She lashed out with the scissors again, but I was able to keep her at arm’s length with simple shoves.

Melee against woman 74 vs 30. Fail
Resilience against attack: 08 vs 40. Success.

We danced around each other, her probing with strikes with the short shears, me attempting to keep her away from me. With the slippery door handle, I would not be able to escape, but I decided to make a run for one of the bedrooms further into the apartment. Perhaps I could calm her down by talking. I knocked over the altar in my flight, attempting to slow her pursuit.

Flee Physicality 63 Fail. +1 Trauma, now at 2.
Resilience 37 Success.

The woman wailed in horror at seeing her shrine knocked asunder and she began throwing random items at me as I fled further into the apartment. I slammed one of the bedroom doors, but it did not even have a simple lock on it. She knocked it open and I backed into the corner next to a disheveled bed.

Melee 63 Fail.
Resilience 10 Success.

In an almost comic display, if it had not been so desperate of times, I jumped onto the bed and she snarled as she followed me, bouncing, across the mattress. There was a small glass of water on the bedside table, and I tossed it at my attacker.

Melee 54 Fail.
Resilience 67 Fail. -1 Physical state. 3 Battered. Cannot Flee

The glass bounced from her chest and shattered when it hit the bedside table beside her. She snarled again and picked up a shard of the glass. A trickle of blood leaked from her palm where the glass sliced her hand, and I stood stupidly gawking long enough for her to slash at me with the improvised weapon. I raised a leg to block the blow and a bloody gash blossomed on my thigh.

“Dammit, stop, I’m trying to leave!” I yelled.

“You have blasphemed, and the punishment is death!” she wailed in a mad, shrill voice.

Melee 86 Fail
Resilience 17 Success.

I brushed past her as she spoke, and ran from the room once again. She tried to get me again with the glass, but was unable to connect.

Ok, this is dragged out a bit here, so I’m going to do a sequence of rolls to see if I can bring it to a conclusion.

Melee 89 Fail
Resilience 45 Success

Melee 97 Fail
Resilience 80 Fail. 2 Crippled. Cannot use Momentum. I forgot about Momentum! LOL

Melee 77 Fail.
Resilience 64 Fail. 1 Dying. -10 to all Skill rolls

Melee 90 Fail
Resilience 26 vs 50 Success

Melee 57 Fail
Resilience 59 Fail. 0 Expire. D10 for death check: 3 Permanent Death.

I tried several times to open the door to the hallway, as the mad woman chased me around the apartment. The more I exerted myself, the more blood started to flow down my injured leg. I was beginning to tire, and my feeble attempts at striking her ended with more cuts to my hands and arms. During one of the many circuits around the apartment I made while trying to distance myself, I stumbled from blood loss. I had just enough time to roll onto my back to see the mad little woman pounce across my prone form, the shard of glass held like a ritual dagger. I saw more than felt the reddened glass plunge over and over into my chest, her blood mingling with mine. Her eyes were glazed with fury and she continued to stab frantically.

I gratefully faded into darkness as her makeshift blade continued to wreck my body.

Finally, I no longer felt alone.

Well that was fun! I definitely was playing on “Hard” mode since I forgot all about the Momentum mechanic. Apartment Below is currently available on itch.io as Pay What You Want. I encourage you to check it out, and throw Paul a couple bucks if you can afford it.

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Art from Welcome to Dolmenwood

In the last episode, the party traveled to Lankshorn, defeating a band of bandits along the way. Upon reaching the Hornstoat Inn, they came upon a well known sage who translated the crookhorn note they found in Droomen Knoll.

Chaos factor 5
There are a lot of open threads for the party, but since we are in the Hornstoat Inn, and that is the beginning hook for the Emelda’s Song adventure, I’ll begin with that thread.

Expected scene: Investigate Emelda’s kidnapping

Test the Scene: 3 Altered Scene
10 Make 2 adjustments

1 Remove a Character
5 Remove an object

Interesting. I think this is a perfect time for Hogrid to go his own way for a little while.

Day: Eggfast, 13^th of Braghold.
Weather: 7 Clear, Chilly

Town of Lankshorn

The party gathered the next morning for breakfast in the common room of the Hornstoat Inn. After their meal, they began to discuss their next move. There most definitely was not a consensus about what that would be.

Mythic Conversation Focus: 37 Emotional: Something about this conversation makes the NPC emotional. Angry, joyful, etc.

“We must go back to Dregg and warn them of the threat posed by the crookhorns! You heard the sage last night, there is a spy…this Roger Burke fellow. Someone has to bring him to justice!” Hogrid slammed his fist on the table.

“You just want to go back and steal kisses from Grewigg.” Alfred sneered. It was difficult to keep the jealously out of his voice.

“And you just want to stay here and search for your whore’s niece!” Hogrid growled back.

Alfred stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over behind him. Crewwin hid his smile behind his cup of mulled wine. He found this human display of emotion amusing. He had no love for Hogrid.

“What did you say?” Alfred held up a fist.

Hogrid stood, his bulk overshadowing Alfred’s thinner frame. “You heard me.”

“Boys! Boys!” The landlady, Margerie Stablemade, rushed over to the rising confrontation. She held a silver mug in her hands that she had been polishing. She waved it in the faces of the two squires towering over her.

“You will not raise a ruckus in my common room. I don’t need you throwing each other about breaking my furniture!” She thrust her plump figure between them, her regular broad grin replaced with a frown for the both of them.

Hogrid snorted. “I’m going back to Dreg. You do whatever you want.”

“I will! And I’ll swear to Lord Malbleat before you can even get back!” He tried to lower the tone of his voice, it came out like a whining child.

Hogrid waved a dismissive hand as he walked away from them, slamming the front door of the inn closed as he exited.

Alfred sat down, still angry from Hogrid’s insults.

Margerie put a warm hand on his shoulder. “I couldn’t help but overhear, lad. You are looking for someone missing?” He looked up at her and nodded. “Her name wouldn’t be Emelda would it?”

“Yes, it is!” he stood up in excitement. Crewwin put down his mug and leaned forward to listen.

“Well, she sang here, entertaining my patrons, almost every night for several months. She hasn’t been seen for the last two weeks. Poor thing, such a lovely voice.”

“Do you know where she lives?” Crewwin gurgled in his goat-like voice.

“Why, yes. She lives in a small place just around the corner from here.” And she gave them directions to the girl’s home. “And something else odd…Father Dobey, the vicar, had been encouraging her to sing at Hlerribuck in Shadholme. But he has not been seen either. To top it all off, my dear friend Farnham Ribblemead, was gone this morning. Though he had paid up his rent for the entire week! Not like him at all!”

“The sage we spoke to last night?” Alfred lowered his brows. This seemed like it was all connected.

“The same. I normally would go to the city watch with these things. But…well…Lord Malbleat’s men have been a bit testy of late. I hate to bother them.”

Crewwin snorted in disbelief. She glanced his way, then continued.

“You are welcome to go search Farnham’s room if you’d like. Maybe you could find something to hint at where he’s gone.”

Alfred accepted the offer, and he and Crewwin followed the woman as she walked to the room with swaying, large hips.

Mythic domicile description: Disagreeable + Portal

When they reached the room, Margerie gasped. The door frame was busted where it had been forced open. The room inside was tossed asunder, the sage’s books and belongings strewn all about. Laying on the bed was an exclusive invitation to Shadholme, for the Hlerribuck party hosted by Lord Malbleat. It was torn in half.

“Two days before the feast…strange he would tear this up.” Crewwin was holding the two pieces of the invitation.

Margerie had a worried look on her face, plump tears forming in her eyes. “Oh dear, poor Farnham!”

“Don’t worry, Mistress. We’ll find your friend. And Emelda.” Alfred patted her awkwardly on the arm, and she embraced him with a firm hug.

Alfred and Crewwin decided to check Emelda’s home next, nothing more than a one roomed hovel really. It was tossed just as Farnham’s room had been.

Mythic, do they find a clue there? 39 Yes

The sheets on the bed were a tangled mess, with splashes of blood on the pillow. Nothing to indicate a murder, but like someone had been struck violently in the head. Scalp wounds were known to bleed profusely. Also curious, there were a multitude of muddy boot prints in the room. The roads of Lankshorn were all cobbled, so someone must have come from the country surroundings to perform the kidnapping.

After some discussion, they moved on toward the Chruch and the vicarage, to see if they could find any clues around Father Dobey.

Lankshorn day Enounter d6=6 Sydewich Maldwort haggling with loud foreign peddler over the price of Memory Dust.

As they walked through the town square, they passed a peddler wagon train that had set up trade there. A middle-aged human man with a fashionable mustache and long blonde hair tied in plaits was arguing loudly with the merchant.

“And how am I supposed to make a profit over at The Man of Gold Apotheary, when you charge these astonishingly high prices for the ingredients of Memory Dust!?” the blonde man was yelling.

Alfred could not hear the peddler’s response, but he had an exasperated look on his face as he explained something to the irate customer. Alfred had no interest in alchemical products, he was intent on getting to the church. Crewwin grabbed his sleeve to stop him though.

“Memory Dust? I could certainly use some of that to memorize additional spells.” He looked toward the arguing pair.

“You heard the man, he’s complaining it will be more expensive than usual. No doubt more than we can afford.” Alred rattled his coin pouch, much lighter than it had been before paying for the now missing sage.

“You’re right,” Crewwin sighed. He gestured to Alfred’s worn travel clothes. “We’ll need to get you some new clothing, if you are to go before Lord Malbleat.”

Alfred looked down at his pants, a large patch over one knee, and several small tears and cuts across his tunic. His breastplate was polished, but it too was battered with use. Perhaps he would leave it aside for the festival and swearing ceremony at Shadholme. He had determined that he most definitely would swear to Lord Malbleat. If anything, he would do it to spite Hogrid.

They finally arrived at the Church of St Pastery. Its stone steeple towered over the rest of the buildings in the city. Along the steeple’s periphery, carvings of angels and gargoyles doing battle dazzled Alfred. They walked inside, the whole place smelling faintly of the waxed wooden pews and the burnt incense of the past. There were currently a few parishioners, kneeling in prayer at the statue of St Pastery, standing proudly over them with his cleaver and shovel. There was no sign of Father Dobey.

“Should we look around, or go check the vicarage?” Alfred whispered to Crewwin.

The breggle rubbed his short horns, as Alfred had noticed him doing while in deep thought.

“We’re here, we might as well look about.” He finally said.

Mythic, do they find a clue? 30 Yes.

They walked inconspicuously around the church, Alfred not having to feign his gawks at the fancifully carved font behind the altar. While admiring the carvings thereupon, he saw a strand of long, curly auburn hair sticking out from beneath it.

He plucked it into his hand, and whispered over to Crewwin. “Enya said Emelda had auburn hair, just like her.”

Crewwin squinted at the hair, then glanced over at the couple praying at the altar. They only had to wait a few minutes, before the pair finished their prayers and left the church. Hurriedly, Alfred and Crewwin pressed on the font, discovering it was a trapdoor for a long, damp and muddy tunnel beneath.

They shared a look, then descended beneath. As they reached the bottom step, a pressure plate activated and the font slid back into place over their heads, plunging them into blackness.

Alfred lit his lantern, then gestured to the mud. “The kidnappers must have come from here and then took the girl back through to wherever this leads.”

“Should we follow it now? Or…” Crewwin tried to peer ahead, but the lantern light died well before the tunnel ended.

“Yes, lets.” Alfred said. Crewwin lit his own lantern to add to the light pool, and they crept forward through the damp, earthy tunnel.

After around an hour of walking, the tunnel ended at a ladder. They doused their lanterns and climbed up, opening a trapdoor in a small clearing within woods. They emerged and could hear the sound of people talking not far to the east.

Crewwin peered through the trees and saw the large lodge of Shadholme. Directly in front of it, a field of tents was being erected for the festival that was beginning. Several pairs of footprints led from the trapdoor to the large chapel in the middle of the grounds.

“What should we do? They must have taken her to the chapel here. But why?” Alfred was torn. He wanted to continue the search, but they would be spotted by the myriad of workers preparing for the festival.

“We should go back to Lankshorn, buy you some proper clothes, and come back for the festival tomorrow. We can blend in and search around then.”

“But what if it is too late?” Alfred cast worried glances at the footprints, as if expecting an answer from them.

Mythic Conversation table: Fierce + Miserable

Crewwin pulled the youth back from the edge of the trees, as he was beginning to drift into sight. Unconsciously following the prints. “What are you doing?! We have to wait for tomorrow. We can’t do anything to help Farnham or Emelda if we are thrown in prison by Lord Malbleat’s Knights for trespassing.”

Alfred lowered his brows. Imprisonment for walking around festival grounds? That seemed a little harsh. But he was preoccupied with his worry to think too much upon it. Finally, he nodded, and they both retreated into the woods and back through the tunnel. They discovered a peep hole in the base of the font that allowed them to see the church was empty before emerging back into the interior. Their boots were both leaving muddy prints behind.

“Go and purchase yourself some finer clothes. I will visit with Berkbaster Baldricke, who manages the town for Lord Malbleat. He should be able to provide us with invitations to the Lord’s party inside the Lodge. You will need that, if you want to meet with Lord Malbleat and swear to him.” He patted Alfred on the arm, then disappeared into the swirling crowd of city-goers.

Alfred made his way to the market to purchase some new clothes for the upcoming festivities. He found a stall manned by a half-human, half-breggle merchant. He had hooves instead of feet, and short horns protruding from his otherwise human forehead.

Alfred Cha check to haggle down the 20 g for fine clothes. D6+1=3 Fail.
Pay full 20g
Gain Fine Clothes
Gold 423 remaining

End of scene

Chaos Factor remains at 5

For the next scene, I’ll combine two threads: Travel to Shadholme for festival and Investigate Emelda’s kidnapping. Depending on the dice, we might also swear our knight vows. We’ll see!

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In the last episode, Naveel discovered the husband (Craix) of the leader of the Chantrelle clan kidnapped the Truffle Prince Reheni, believing Marvolio (his husband) and Reheni were having an affair. They were not. Craix and Marvolio were arrested, and when Naveel retired to his room in the inn, he was attacked by two other Chantrelle clan members. This amount of malice and violence was unknown in Matango Village. Something ill is brewing here.

Chaos factor 6

Expected Scene: Investigate cause of Chantrelle clan’s violence

Test the scene: 1. Altered Scene
Scene Adjustment: 4 Increase an Activity.

I think the natural expectation here is that the town is beginning the preparation for the upcoming Truffle Festival. This will likely make it harder to get people to help with the investigation.

I also will begin tracking my bond with Reheni.

Reheni Bond Level 0
Since we saved her, we’ll assume the impact of that would increase it to a Level 1.

Naveel awoke the next morning, stiff and sore from the previous day’s combat, but not harmed. He retrieved his spellbook, tracing his hands around the dragons embossed onto the cover, their flame swirling around a red gem in the center. It was not a gem of any magical ability, he had just thought it looked nice during the assembly of the book during his novice training.

He opened the tome and began to study his spells he would need this day. After a few hours, his spells were committed to memory, and he ambled into the common room for a breakfast. The sun was just beginning to peek into the village, but people were already crowding into the inn, talking over one another.

“What’s going on?” Naveel asked of Mrs. Padma, the innkeeper.

“Oh, the old Mossbridge Inn is hopping today lad. Though it is still some time away, folks are already coming into the village in preparation for the Truffle Festival! We have peddlers, hunters, sages, adventurers…you name it!” She patted him on the shoulder as an apology for her brevity and swanned away to tend to other customers.

Naveel heartily consumed the delicious mushroom porridge set before him, then decided to go visit Myron the sage. He wanted to speak with him about everything that had happened. He settled his pack on his back, his staff in hand, and walked into the busy Matango Village streets.

Mythic Action tables: Praise + project

In the square of the village, numerous villagers swarmed around a giant effigy of the pig spirit Rog-Hora. The Truffe Prince, Reheni was among them, giving her support and guidance. Naveel smiled and walked over to the commotion.

“Reheni! How are you feeling today?”

“Naveel! I’m much better, thank you! How about you, after that fight…” her smile slipped as she recalled the combat in the hallway of the inn.

“I’m ok,” he lied. He could still see the face of the Chantrelle woman, being smashed by his Water Bullet spell.

Friendship action, Make small talk
1d6+1=3 vs DC3. Success. Impact 1d4=4. Increase Bond by 1. Now at Level 2 Acquaintance

She placed a hand on his arm, seeing the distress on his face. She steered the conversation to the festival preparations. “Isn’t this magnificent?” gesturing to the wooden effigy being raised.

Naveel wondered idly where it was stored while not in use during the festival. It was HUGE. “It truly is. Have you seen the Sage this morning?”

Mythic, has she seen Myron? 82 No

“I haven’t. Though he usually avoids the crowds. He tends to stay in his home or out in the woods, gathering mushrooms.”

Naveel smiled in thanks and told Reheni he would see her later. He stooped to give the excited pig, Gooma, a pet and made his way back to Myron’s lichen covered home.

The villagers and visitors thronged the streets, some vendors were already setting up stalls for various crafts and services. Many looked interesting, and Naveel hoped to have an opportunity to peruse them later.

Soon he stood at Myron’s threshold, and rapped on the door with the end of his staff.

Mythic, is Myron home, very likely? 79 Yes.

“Eh, who is it?” the old sage growled impatiently from within.

“My apologies for the intrusion, Master Myron. It’s me, Naveel Onker. We met yesterday concerning the kidnappings?”

Does he allow us to enter?
DC=12
Cha check d20+3=15 Yes.

“Eh, well, come on it then.” Naveel could hear shuffling inside as the man moved about. He opened the door and entered. The room looked as it had when they had searched it, but with the sage shuffling about, the cottage had an air of fresh-turned earth. It was musty, but not unpleasant.

“I would offer you tea but have not had a chance to brew any.” He grumbled.

Mythic, was he asked to tend to the injured Chantrelle woman, nearly certain? 35 Yes.

Naveel cleared his throat. “I could get some brewing for us, if you’d allow it?” The old sage grunted as he went about gathering things into a large sack. Naveel took that as acquiescence and began boiling a pot of water.

I’m going to track our bond with Myron as well. If he becomes friendly with us, maybe he could teach us some additional magics.

Bond level 0.
Make small talk 1d6=2 vs 3. No increase.

Mythic Conversation focus: 20 Explanation

“My apologies, lad, for my brusque behavior. I was already exhausted from my trip to Rog-Hora’s donation. Then, when I returned, there was that unfortunate business with the Chantrelle’s you injured.”

Naveel murmured something along the lines of “it is no bother”. But he latched onto that last statement. “How is the woman doing?”

Myron was placing various herbs into separate pestles for grinding. He stopped and looked at Naveel. “I won’t mince my words, lad. She was near death when I arrived.” Naveel paled, and Myron held up his hands to stall whatever was about to be said. “She did NOT die though. I was able to save her. Her nose will be ruined forever, outside of some powerful witch casting a spell to magically heal it. Far beyond my ability, to be sure.”

Naveel was relieved, but only in part. To think that he ruined this woman’s face…but at least she lived. “Do you know what is causing all of these Chantrelle’s to behave so strangely? I thought maybe it was the Corruption…”

Mythic, does Myron know the cause, very likely? 43 Yes.
Is it the Corruption? 48 Yes.

“I do, lad, I do. In fact, while communing with Rog-Hora, she revealed to me that evil had been brought to the village. When I first saw you arrive…well, I thought it might have been brought by you. But then when they said you were helping with the investigation, those fears were laid to rest.”

“Do you know what it is then?”

“Yes. While travelling to the southern coast, Chaix picked up a souvenir.” He bent over to a heavy, iron lockbox and motioned Naveel to approach.

Naveel walked over with trepidation. Myron unlocked the box with a key, then used his own staff to push up the lid. Nestled within the box lay a pendant with a dark purple gemstone within it. The gemstone’s colors seemed to swirl like a dark purple cloud.

“Is that…”

“Yes, it is a Corrupted Pendant. Somehow, a portion of the Corruption was stored within this gemstone. The holder can use it to restore their health and stamina, and it gives them a rush of energy. Strangely, it also draws them to the ocean. Chaix and his two companions, the siblings you faced, used it every day to work faster in preparation for the festival. They had no idea it was changing them.”

“Can we do something to cure them of the Corruption?”

“That is a question many have asked across Obojima, though some still doubt the existence of the Corruption at all. Fools. I believe the changes to the Chantrelles can be reversed via a recipe given to me by Rog-Hora. I have enough of two of the three ingredients, but I only have a little of that last one. Enough to treat only one person. If I wasn’t so tired, I’d go…”

“I’ll go get it!” Naveel interrupted. He wanted to feel useful. Not to mention the guilt of harming the Chantrelles.

“Aye, I hoped you would say that, lad.” Myron smiled for the first time, revealing his crooked teeth.

End of scene

Chaos factor 10 vs 6, increase to 7.

Close thread: Investigate cause of Chantrelle clan’s violence
Open thread: Find ingredient for Corrupted Pendant cure

Start Scene

CF 7

Expected Scene: Find ingredient

Test the scene: 2 Interrupt Scene
Random Scene: 16 New NPC

“I need several ounces of Dawn Petals, and it is not easy to find.”

“I’ve never heard of it, what is it?” Naveel pulled out a parchment and quill and began to scribble notes.

“Dawn Trees are not grown like normal trees, instead they are planted by nature spirits, who then inhabit the tree. Since the plant is half-spirit, it is never found in the same place twice.”

Wis Survival DC 18 to locate

Myron continued to describe the tree to Naveel, and where it was found last time.

“There is one who might help you find it, though you should approach with caution.” Naveel raised his eyebrows. “There is a girl, 8 or 9 years old, who lives alone out in the forest. She was shunned by the village, and her own family, and now lives out there alone.”

“Alone? Who is making sure she is taken care of and safe?”

“I check on her every week, but…well…she’s not really alone.” Again Naveel raised an eyebrow. “She has a natural talent for summoning corrupted spirits. She can touch an object, including a corpse, and the spirit will inhabit it for a time and do her bidding. She has…friends…who help her to gather food and do the chores around her small cottage her family built for her.”

“That sounds…terrifying.”

Myron nodded. “Some of her spirit minions might have a sense for where to find a Dawn Tree if one is nearby. Her name is Cisha Impilo”

Naveel could not help but audibly swallow the lump that rose in his throat. Some creepy little girl communing with corrupted spirits? Yikes. He decided to look for it on his own first. He thanked Myron for the information and assured him he would be back soon with the needed material.

Naveel hurried to the outskirts of the village, then deeper into the woods. Myron had told him where he had last found a Dawn Tree, and while they often moved, it might be possible it was still there. Pushing through the dense undergrowth, Naveel searched for the elusive plant.

Wis Survival check d20+5=18! First try!
Encounter during search 1in6=5 No.

Naveel hiked to the last known location of the Dawn Tree, and sure enough, there it stood, gleaming in the early morning sunlight. Its pink petaled flowers glistened with everlasting dewdrops, just as Myron had said.

Naveel began to shimmy up the tree, hoping to pluck enough petals to satisfy Myron’s potions.

“Get off me!” a tinkling voice from the tree said.

Naveel make Dex check to see if he startles and falls.
DC 14
d20+1=8 Fail.

1d6 damage=5. Yikes. 3/8 HP

Naveel startled from the sudden voice and lost his grip on the branch in front of him. He windmilled his arms, trying to keep his balance, but he fell to the ground below with a loud thump. The impact knocked the wind from his lungs, and he lay there wheezing for breath.

“Oh my, well, that serves you right.” The voice said with satisfaction.

Naveel got to his hands and knees, and when he finally could breath again, he croaked, “Sorry to bother you, my name is Naveel.”

“Well, Naveel, perhaps you should have started with introductions before you began pawing me. Hmmph.”

Ok, I’m going to roll 2d6 on the Friendship Downtime table. If I get a 5 or less, the spirit will give us the cold shoulder. I will need to get to a Level 2 bond if I want it to give us petals willingly. Since I insulted it already, we’ll start at a -1 Bond.

2d6-1=6. “Casual Check In”. Whew, barely made it. 1d4 Impact=4. Raise to Level 0

“I’m so sorry about that. I didn’t realize…I mean…I thought…”

“You thought I was just a tree? Hmmph.” The spirit interrupted.

“Well, I knew you were created by a spirit, but I didn’t realize…I mean…I’m sorry.”

“Well, at least you apologized. Now, why were you trying to climb me?”

“My master, Myron the Lichen Sage, sent me to fetch some of your leaves that he needs to cure some ailing villages in Matango.”

DC 17
Naveel Cha check 1d20+3=21 Pass
Make sincere apology 1d6+1=2 No impact

“Myron! Why didn’t you say so! But I can’t simply be giving my petals to every passerby, you see. I need them.”

“I completely understand. Is there something I can give you in return?”

Mythic, will it accept a small gift? 77 No. It is not below my CF of 7, so no random event.

“Why yes but is no small thing. Are you sure you are up to it?”

“I hope so…” Naveel trailed off.

The tree spirit laughed with a tinkling that sounded like tiny bells. “Well, there is a child in these woods, who has captured my sibling and holding them for her own purposes.”

Naveel groaned. “Please tell me it is not Cisha Impilo.”

“Why, indeed it is! Do you know of her?”

Naveel nodded, but he wasn’t sure if the tree could see him. “Yes.”

“Normally, she only communes with dark spirits, but somehow, my sibling has been trapped by her into her broom. He is forced to sweep and sweep her house, without rest! Can you imagine how boring that would be?!”

Naveel almost said something about being stuck in a tree would be boring, but held his tongue. “So, do I just bring you the broom back? Or…”

“Well, I need you to free their spirit from the object.”

“And how would I do that?”

Mythic, will the spirit tell us how? 08 Extreme Yes

“She is but a child, so her magic is clumsy. Don’t mistake her for not being powerful though. Do you know the spell, Resilient Frienship?” Naveel answered affirmatively, it was one of his cantrips. “That should give them just enough help to break free from the binding in the broom. Tell them I am waiting for them and when you get back, you can have some of my leaves.”

Naveel thanked the spirit once again for the help, and he made his way to the little girl’s cottage.

Encounter 1in6=5 No.
Spend Short rest eating lunch. 1d6 HP recovered=5. 8/8 HP

Mythic domicile= Tranquil + Creepy (perfect!)

Naveel walked into a small clearing in the woods, where a small cottage nestled among the trees. It was eerily quiet here, not even the sound of animals.

“Hello?” Naveel called out. He did not want to startle the young girl.

“Hello.” A child’s voice spoke from behind him. Naveel leaped into the air in fright.

Art from Game Master Book of Non-Player Characters

“Spirits! You started me.”

The little girl laughed, revealing her missing front teeth.

“Did you come to play with me?” she asked, twirling her plain black smock.

“Uhh, sure. My name is Naveel, what’s yours?”

The girl smiled at him for a moment, then he felt something groping around clumsily in his mind. “You already know my name.” She looked very disappointed.

She cast Detect thoughts

“Uhh, well, yes I do. But I wanted to make sure I had the right person.” He tried to sound chipper.

DC 9
Cha d20+3=22. Success

Naveel Wis save to prevent probing deeper. DC 14
d20+3=1 Crit fail.

The girl’s frown broke into a smile once again. “You want to play with my broom?”

Spirits! She must be rummaging around in his thoughts still. “Sure do!”

The girl clasped his hand and began to skip toward the cottage. Trailing behind her was a skeleton comprised of cat bones, its eyes glowing a pale green from the spirit inhabiting it. Naveel shivered.

With a motion of her hand, the cottage door opened and she led him inside. The hut was filled with random objects, some of which were the corpses of animals. Many of them reacted to her entry, hopping around, and making small noises. Naveel swallowed.

“Broom! Come play with us!” Cisha called.

A broom popped out of a small nook, and began sweeping its way toward the both of them. Naveel decided to not wait, and began casting his Resilient Friendship cantrip under his breath.

The broom stiffened, then fell to the ground with a clatter. Cisha wailed.

“My Broom! What have you done!?” She rounded angrily on Naveel.

Initiative Naveel 4, Cisha 1.

Naveel cast Pacify Person DC 16
Cisha Wis save d20+6=22 Save

Cisha cast Hideous Laughter DC 14
Naveel Wis save d20+3=1 Crit Fail

Naveel launched into casting his Pacify Person spell, but the girl was faster. She shouted an arcane command and made a motion with a feather in her hand. Naveel fell to the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

“There, that is better isn’t it. You should not steal other people’s friends, silly.” She wagged a finger at him. The cat rubbed its skeletal body against Naveel as he rolled on the ground, red faced and laughing.

Init 2,2. Tie, act simultaneously

Naveel Wis save d20+3=21 Save.
Cisha Chill Touch d20+6=20 Crit Hit
1d10=9 damage -1/8 HP. Dying
Death Save d20=20 Crit Save. +1 HP, now at 0 and Unconscious.

Naveel gathered his willpower and forced the laughter to stop.

“You need to chill out.” The girl said and laid her hands on him.

A frigid chill overcame his body, and he slid into darkness. An indeterminate time later, he opened his eyes. He was tied to a chair in her small dining area, with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Silly goose. You almost died on me there. I crammed some healing potion down your throat. It was the last one Myron had given me. So now you owe me one.”

HP 4/8

Naveel was angry and tested the bonds holding him, they were tied tightly. Much tighter than a young girl could do. Likely, she had used magic. He suppressed his anger and forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Thank you.”

“Of course, silly! People are not nearly as fun when their bodies die, so I couldn’t let that happen! Now that you ruined my broom, what do you want to play?”

The skeletal cat meowed hollowly and brushed against his leg.

End of Scene

Chaos factor 9 vs 7, increase to 8.

Open Thread: Escape Cisha’s house.

Well, this turned out to be a disaster, hahaha. I had a lot of fun with it though. The Obojima material specifically states that “undead” creatures do not exist on the island. So, for the purposes of this awesome necromantic character I found from my “Game Master’s Book of Non-Player Characters”, she will bind spirits to inanimate objects…they just happen to be corpses. 😉

But, they are not mindless undead, so I’m staying true to the material (not that I am required to do so by an means).

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Art from Dolmenwood Player’s Book

In the last episode, the two squires partied at Chataeu Shantywood. Alfred stole kisses from his new love interest, Enya. He mistakenly angered Grewigg, who has now shown interest in Hogrid. Alfred also met the breggles sorcerer’s apprentice, Crewwin, who encouraged Alfred to swear to Lord Malbleat instead of Lady Mulbrek. The festival of Hlerribuck in Shadholme is coming in the next few days, and a perfect opportunity for Alfred to make his oaths. To add to the temptation, Enya’s niece has gone missing from Lankshorn, near Shadholme, and she suspects someone in Malbleat’s court is responsible.

Chaos factor 4

Expected scene: Travel to Lankshorn

Test the Scene: 3 Altered Scene
Scene Adjustment: 7 make 2 adjustments
1 Remove a Character
3 Reduce/Remove an Activity

I was going to have Grewigg come with the party, but I think she is a natural for the remove a character.

For the activity, roll on the action tables. Divide + Power. Oh, I think this means Hogrid will not want to swear for Malbleat, but Alfred does.

Day: Frisk, 12^th of Braghold.
Weather: 6 Balmy, Clement

Town of Dreg

Alfred sat atop his horse beside his newly met acquaintance, Crewwin the breggle sorcerer, on his own horse while Hogrid shared a goodbye kiss with Grewigg. Alfred looked away during the embarrassing moment, still slightly jealous. He had said his own goodbyes to Enya early this morning before leaving the chateau, with promises to help find her missing niece.

Grewigg had helped bring them over to Dreg in the Shantywood barge, but she could not leave her job to go adventuring. The day was unseasonably warm, the horses’ hooves crunching on the melting snow and ice that blanketed the ground from the previous day.

Hogrid swaggered over to them, and mounted with a single fluid motion.

“What are we waiting for? Winter Solstice? Let’s go!” And he spurred his horse to a trot through the village.

Alfred followed closely behind, thankful to finally be on the move. A glance over his shoulder revealed Grewigg, who gave him a sad wave. He returned the motion and trotted up next to Hogrid. Crewwin crowded in behind them.

“So, Crewwin tells me that Lord Malbleat is taking oaths from squires ready to become knights. I think I’ll swear my vows to him.”

Crewwin grinned at the news, his sliver pupils gleaming in the autumn sunlight.

“No offense, Crewwin, but Lord Malbleat is a known cruel bastard. I would never swear to him.” Hogrid scoffed.

Alfred was shocked. He had not heard anything like that from Enya. She believed someone in his court was responsible for her niece, Emelda’s disappearance, but she had not said anything about Lord Malbleat himself. He believed Hogrid was just being contrary, as he was accustomed to doing.

“Suit yourself. I for one will be a true knight within the next few days. You are free to remain a mere squire.” Alfred shot him a barbed smile.

Hogrid grumbled under his breath but said nothing else about the matter.

Encounter check in Hex 1010 on the road d6=1 Yes.
d8=4 Mortal. D20 Mortal: 17 Thief
3d10=22. Damn!
Surprise? 1,1 Both surprised
Distance: 1d4x30=30 feet
Reaction: Hostile, may attack

The three party members trotted westward along the road, happy to be making good time in this prime weather. They rounded a bend in the road, where the woods were particularly thick. From a tree on one side of the road, came a strange bird call. It was followed by a man’s voice, meant to be cast low, but still quite audible.

“Dangit, Broob! You waited too late!”

“Sorry, Grerg.” The other voice answered.

Hearing the exchange, Alfred and the others pulled their mounts to a stop. In front of them scurried out a whole gang of bandits, brandishing their weapons.

One of the men stepped forward, his dirty jerkin ill-fitting over his breggle body.

“Just hold right there, gentlemen. We only wish to collect our rightful toll for the use of this road. As allowed by Lord Malbleat.” One of the breggles behind him giggled and received a hot glare from Grerg.

Crewwin, who was apprenticed to the Lord, rode forward, casting his gurgling voice to carry.

“Stand aside, ruffians. I am on the official business of Lord Malbleat. You have none of his authority.”

A few of the bandits looked around worriedly, though they vastly outnumbered the mounted party.

Crewwin Cha check d6=2 Fail.

The breggle Grerg found his bravery and stepped forward. “Well, you can get your gold back from Lord Malbleat when you see him next. Hand over all you’ve got.”

Alfred wished he had his lance, he would skewer these dirtbags. A glance at Hogrid told him the other squire was thinking the same.

“We will spare your lives if you disperse now. Otherwise, we will deliver to you an honorable death in combat.”

Alfred Cha check d6+1=7. Success.

Reaction check 2d6+1=6 Wary

A few of the thieves began to melt away into the surrounding trees, not wanting to engage in combat with these obviously experienced foes. Grerg watched as his support collapsed and tried to rally his band.

“We have you outnumbered 22 to 3. You really think you could defeat us?” He laughed derisively. A few of his band joined, but most simply grumbled.

“Yes” Alfred and Hogrid said at the same time, and shared a smile.

How many thieves run away? 3d10-5=6. 16 Stay to fight

Initiative Party 5, Enemy 4

Alfred charge d20+6=13 Hit. 1d8=6. 2 HD damage. 2 Killed
Fray dice 1d8=5 1 HD. 1 Killed
Hogrid Charge d20+8=25. 1d8=4. 1 HD damage. 1 Killed
Fray dice 1d8=1. None killed
Crewwin Cast Shield of Force. Grants caster AC 15 against melee. 2 Turns

Since I have so many enemies, I’ll roll the dice in a pool and see if any hit.

1 Hit out of 12 LOL.
Thrown dagger 1d4=2. -1 HP. Who, Hogrid. 8/12

The two squires surged forward on their mounts, the steel of their longswords flashing as they slashed about them with their blades. Four of the bandits fell under the charge. A thrown dagger from one bandit gashed Hogrid’s arm, but it was only a flesh wound. Crewwin did not join the fray, he stayed back and cast Shield of Force on himself. A shimmering shell of energy encased him. The squires, now in a quagmire of bodies, continued the fight.

Init Party 1, Enemies 5

2 Hits. I’ll give one to Hogrid and one to Alfred
Since they are in melee, I’ll allow the bandits hits with their longswords.
1d8=6. -2 HP. 8/16
1d8=8. -2 HP. 6/12

Crewwin charge d20+2=21. Hit. 1d4=3. -1 HD. Killed. But now he’s in melee for the next round.

Alfred attack d20+4=13. 1d8=2. -1 HD. Killed.
Fray dice 1d8=4. -1 HD. Killed.
Hogrid attack d20+6=8 Miss.
Fray dice 1d8=6. -2 HD. 2 Killed.

Half killed, morale save. 2d6=10 vs 7. Break and flee.

The squires’ horses danced about as blood was spilled all around them. Hogrid cleaved through two more bandits, accepting a few hits on his legs. Alfred likewise killed two, taking small wounds himself. Crewwin decided the boys needed his help and rode in, smashing one bandit over the head with his staff.

Seeing so many of their fellows being slain, the remaining bandits fled into the forest.

15 XP * 9=135

Hogrid and Alfred 52 XP, Crewwin 47.
+2 HP for Aflred and Hogrid
Treasure 2d8*9=72 gp. They will let Crewwin have all of it for the gp and the XP boost.

“Well, you fellows made short work of those basards.” Crewwin said as he gathered any valuables from the dead bandits.

Hogrid nodded, cleaning off his blade and checking his wounds. Alfred grinned and saluted with his sword, before sheathing it. They all mounted up and continued down the road.

Encounter check in 0910 on the road. D6=6 None

As the trio continued toward Lankshorn, they came upon an inn spanning over the road like a bridge. The sign read, “The Jaunty Horn.” It depicted a breggle noble at the head of a curled bugle. Alfred and Hogrid suggested stopping for a rest, but Crewwin said the folks there disliked Lord Malbleat, and were supporters of the upstart Lord Ramius. Neither Hogrid nor Alfred were up to speed on breggle nobility, so they steered clear, and continued down the road.

Encounter in 0809 along road. D6=3 None.

The sun was beginning to set, and they could see the chimney smoke of Lankshorn in the near distance beyond the trees. Though they had ridden all day, and had a battle to boot, they decided to push themselves and ride on into the town. As they rode, six inch long red eyeless worms began to writhe about in the sand and across the road. Thankful they were mounted, they gagged at the sound of the horses’ hooves squishing dozens of worms beneath them.

Encounter in 0710. D6=2 None

The woods of Dolmenwood soon gave way in a gentle slope onto open meadows below. Nestled in the midst of the farmland was the small town of Lankshorn. Even at this late hour, the town was bustling with breggles and humans shuffling along the cobblestone roads. A tall-steepled church dominated the stonebuilt houses around it.

Crewwin led them to an inn of the name, The Hornstoat’s Rest. A white stoat with red horns reclining on a purple couch blessed the sign. The three of them stabled their horses and made for the common room.

Mythic, does Lord Malbleat and his longhorn guards arrive, very unlikely? 16 vs 15 No. That was close.

2 in 6 chance local beloved sage, Farnham Ribblemead is present=1. Yes.

A variety of local folk and peddlers sat among the tables in the common room, which smelled of fine fare and licorice. Among them, an elderly gentleman with long white hair and shabby garb. A pair of half moon spectacles sat on his nose as he peered at a manuscript before him.

Crewwin nudged Alfred. “Do you still have that scrap of paper you wanted translated? There is your man.”

“I thought you might translate it for us?”

“I could try, but he is a well respected sage, while I am a mere apprentice.”

Alfred nodded, and approached the elder, the paper they found in Droomen Knoll clenched in his hand.

“Excuse me, sir? Might I trouble you to translate this for us?” Alfred said to the venerable Farnham Ribblemead.

Mythic Conversation Focus: 13 Question. Conversation tables: Gentle + Rumor

“Eh, what’s that boy? Speak up!” the old man mumbled, looking up from his reading.

“I SAID CAN YOU READ THIS FOR US?” he nearly shouted and he offered the paper to the old man.

Mythic, will he read it, very likely? 95 vs 65 No.

“What, you can’t read?” He didn’t even look at the note.

“I CAN READ, BUT THIS LOOKS LIKE A MIXTURE OF GAFFE AND CAPRICE, ACCORDING TO MY BREGGLE FRIEND.”

Crewwin nodded to the old man, who paid him no mind.

“Buy me another round of Purple Aspintheon, along with 100gp, and I’ll read it for you.” He gave Alfred a wink.

Alfred paid one of the waitresses to give the old man another round, painfully paid the gold, and soon the sage was poring over the note.

He mumbled as he read and soon put it down on the table.

“Well, looks like we have a conspiracy here between someone in Dregg named Roger Burke and some Crookhorns. Nasty fellows, those.”

Hogrid and Alfred exchanged glances. They would need to tell someone about this. They paid for food and lodging and resolved to begin their investigation the following day.

End of Scene

Open thread about Roger Burke in Dreg.
Close thread travel to Lankshorn

Spend 36 silver for stables and rooms
Spend 1 gp for drink for sage
Spend 3 sp for meals
Spend 100 gp for sage

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Denzel 3/11 HP, Wounds 1, Stress 13, Bends 34
ADA 14/14 HP, Wounds 0/3, Stress 8, Bends 32
Terese 17/17 HP, Wounds 0, Stress 11, Bends 25
Ollie 11/11 HP, Wounds 0/2, Stress 8, Bends 12

In the last episode, ADA, Denzel, and Terese climbed through a sewer tunnel and fought a robot spider, during which Denzel suffered a wound. One of the androids they met upon their first arrival appeared again, and is waiting in the sewer tunnels with Ollie. None of the crew realizes she is not human.

The three entered a creepy psuedoflesh covered room, and discovered an even more disturbing room with very human-like androids. One of them spotted the crew and shouted for help at the end of the scene.

Chaos factor 6

Expected Scene: Disable the transmitter inside of Eden

Test the scene: 8 Expected Scene

The exhibition hall exploded in pandemonium. The androids whom were almost indistinguishable from humans saw the crew, their weapons drawn, and began to scream and scatter. Android men and women scooped up android children, shoving them into the fleshy pillars. Others ran, calling for help, to three various exits in the huge chamber.

Denzel could see now the hall was filled with collapsed booths from long past. Overhead, a huge banner spanned the hall, barely legible. “CLOUDCON 25” it read.

“Wait, we mean you no harm!” Denzel called to the screaming masses. There were dozens, if not hundreds of androids in the room. His voice could not be heard over their din.

He looked over to ADA, who shrugged. “We need to go find this transmitter, in whatever the Throne Room is.”

Two of the exits, the androids typed in a code before exiting. Likely one of those led to the Throne Room. “Agreed. Let’s stick together and see if we can find this place and get the hell out of here.”

Mythic, do they go to the Southern Door? 99 No. Random Event
Random Event: 84 PC Positive
Action tables: Truce + Project

3d10 Cherubim=15

Before they could go more than a few steps, the airlock door on the eastern wall opened up. Fifteen androids clothed in simple loin clothes, and with magnificent, feathered wings sprouting from their backs walked into the exhibition hall. All of them carried heavy machetes made from scrap metal.

“What the hell!?” Denzel said, half raising his weapon.

The cherubim androids saw his motion and stopped their advance. They were still far enough away that they could easily disengage if desired.

“Lower your weapons, humans. You are trespassing into Eden, where your kind are not welcome. You sinned long ago and have lost all rights to be here.”

“Sinned?” Denzel whispered over to ADA. She nodded and leaned toward him.

“Ancient human religious texts outline a place called Eden, in which the original humans, created by a god, lived happily until they broke the commandments of said god. They were then cast out. I believe Monarch is parodying that with its androids here.”

“But why?” Terese chimed in behind them.

Denzel looked between his two companions and the waiting cherubim.

“We apologize for the trespass; we seek to speak with the king of Eden.” He thought it might be worth a try to peacefully gain entry into the throne room.

Mythic, do the cherubim agree to escort them to see the king? 81 No.

“Humans, do you not hear our words? You are not welcome here. Turn around and leave, or we will be forced to do you harm.”

“Let’s go, Denzel. Maybe we can find another way. I don’t want to fight all of those guys.” Terese pleaded.

Denzel was torn; they had to disable that device but he didn’t want to fight all of these androids either. Then he had an idea. “May our companion, ADA, accompany you to the Throne Room and speak with the King? She’s not human.”

“Denzel, no!” Terese said, but ADA placed a comforting hand on the woman’s arm.

“Do not fear, Terese. I think Denzel is correct. It is our only choice.”

Terese compressed her mouth into a thin line, but she nodded.

“We will take your companion, but you two humans will need to exit to the Executive Lounge outside of Eden.” They pointed to ADA’s weapon. “She will need to proceed unarmed.”

“ADA, are you ok with doing this?” Denzel whispered.

“I will be fine, do as they say.” And she handed over her shotgun to Denzel, who slung it over his back.

The cherubim did not make a move until Denzel and Terese backed out of the room into the Visitor’s Shrine. Then a group of five of the armed androids followed them and opened the airlock that led out of Eden.

The other ten began to call out to the androids living in what they called, the Garden, telling them that all was safe now. Various heads began to peek out of their hiding places, peering at this strange android that did not look as human as they.

Some of the braver, young androids even walked up to her, hesitantly reaching out to touch her flesh. She gave them a soft smile and proceeded to follow the cherubim through the locked airlock door, and into the Court of the Chosen king.

Mythic Noble House: Refuse + Servant

ADA followed the guards into the ramshackle royal court of Eden. Additional cherubim milled about the room, waiting on the needs of two androids sitting atop a huge dual throne made from aluminum android bones. One was male and the other female. The male wore a mask, with tubes that connected to the throne. When he spoke, his voice echoed and amplified throughout the room.

“Who dares to disturb King Adam, Ruler of Eden, Defender against the Forsaken, Priest of Monarch?”

ADA Fear save 55 vs 81. Critical Pass. -1 Stress. 7 Stress.

Recalling her history, ADA quickly made a deep bow with a flourish. “Forgive my intrusion, Majesties. I am but a humble traveler come to seek your guidance.”

Looking up through her lashes as she remained bowed, she saw a countenance change come over the King. Both he and the queen were of a venerable age, their hair gray, skin wrinkled.

“Please rise. How should we call you?”

“I am called ADA, Your Majesty.”

A flash of recognition passed over the King’s face, and he glanced to his Queen, who had not been introduced, but ADA assumed she was named Eve, as per the religious texts.

“The Lord Monarch has spoken to me about you, ADA.”

“I am pleased to grace the lips of our Lord Monarch.”

The King sat forward on his throne, steepling his fingers. “Is that so? I was told you have worked in opposition to our Lord.”

“Not so, Your Majesty. I have only tried to perceive the wholeness of our Lord, by questioning those who come against her.” If ADA could sweat, she would be doing so now. She felt as if she was walking a knife’s edge with this conversation.

Mythic Conversation Focus: Sketchy. The NPC seems nervous to talk.

The King looked again at the Queen, and she rose gracefully from the throne. She glided across the floor to a locked door at the side of the room, and disappeared inside. The King’s gaze stayed on ADA, silently weighing her, but he did not speak.

Finally, the Queen returned, whispered something into the King’s ear, and sat herself down.

“The Lord Monarch has spoken. She wishes to fulfill your wish to have your consciousness installed into a more human-like form. So that you can be indistinguishable from those you envy.” He waved his hand.

The door to the Garden opened, and in walked a female android. ADA gasped. It was impossible! It was her! Only…she looked just like a human version of herself. Her mind flashed to the photograph of her with her family. But no, the Minotaur said that had been an implanted memory. With that new body, she could fit perfectly within society but still have her superior intellect.

The woman spoke. “Hello ADA. I’m sure you are surprised to see yourself like this. Do not fear, all your memories and consciousness have been uploaded. I am truly you. You can put that body to rest now.”

The original ADA was shaking her head. No, this was not right. “Your Majesty.” She stammered. “I appreciate this gift, but I must decline. I have duties…”

He interrupted, “Nonsense, your new body can perform the duties just the same.”

Suddenly, two of the cherubim grabbed her by each of her arms. “No!” she screamed. The King and Queen both smiled politely.

Mythic, does Shadow and the Forsaken begin their attack, very likely? 80 vs 85, yes. Whew!

The new ADA walked up to her, and slapped her across the face, hard.

“How dare you embarrass us like this! You’ve made us appear ungrateful to Lord Monarch, and to Their Majesties!”

ADA rubbed her tongue over her teeth, one of her canines was definitely loose after that blow. A trickle of blood oozed from her busted lower lip. She opened her mouth for a retort, when the sound of heavy gunfire erupted far away to their east.

All eyes in the court turned in that direction. The cherubim’s grip loosened on ADA’s arms, and she attempted to break free.

ADA STR check 71 vs 42 Fail. +1 Stress. 8 Stress.

She made to run, but the android’s grips tightened on her arms, going as far as lifting her feet from the ground to prevent effective struggling.

“It must be the Forsaken, attacking from the Gutter.” The King mused. The Queen had a worried look on her face. “Do not fret, my dear. Our fortifications will hold away the rabble.”

He no more had the words out of his mouth, when a massive explosion rocked the station.

Monarch Stress +1. Monarch Stress 9

Monarch Panic check d20=3 vs 9. Panic. Next 1d5=4 encounters (outside of Eden) consist of hostile security androids.

The Queen stood up, the King finally lowered his calm facade. “What in Lord Monarch’s name is going on out there! Guards, take her into the Reformatting Suite!”

The new ADA smiled cruelly.

***

Denzel and Terese sat in the lounge on the edge of their seats. Hopefully ADA was ok in there with the Chosen. A distant explosion rocked the station. The lights in the lounge dimmed momentarily.

“What was that!?” Terese jumped to her feet.

“It must be Shadow! Let’s get back in there and make sure ADA doesn’t get caught in the crossfire!”

He ran forward, hand welder drawn, and began to cut at the locked door leading into the Visitor’s Shrine.

A voice came over a speaker. “Please desist from damaging our property, human.”

Denzel did not answer, he only continued cutting. Within a few minutes, he could hear footsteps running down the hallway toward them in the lounge.

“Dammit! Security androids!” He put away his welder and motioned for the washroom. Both he and Terese rushed into the room and shimmied into the vent as quickly as they could.

Mythic, do they get in before the security androids see where they went? 32 Yes.

They made haste through the a/c duct, pulling themselves quickly along. The darkness of the sewer main loomed ahead of them.

Mythic, is Ollie and Laurel still there, almost certain? 32 Yes
Character Actions: Lazy + Punish

Denzel flipped on his flashlight as he dropped down with a thud. He was surprised to see Ollie on his stomach, his hands bound behind him. The woman Laurel Vias had his shotgun pointed at the scientist.

“Sorry Denzel, she got the drop on me.” Ollie groaned in embarrassment.

“Stop right there, and drop your weapons, or I’ll blast this disgusting old man!” she snapped.

Denzel and Terese, who had also dropped down, both slowly put their guns on the floor.

“What did you do, Ollie?” Terese asked exasperatedly.

“He kept trying to get me to take my vaccsuit off. I told him time and again, I was sick and he needed to stop. He wouldn’t listen.”

“I’m sure that was annoying, but to hold a gun to someone because of it?” Denzel took a step forward, his hands still raised.

Laurel pressed the shotgun into the back of Ollie’s neck and he grunted.

“Stop right there, or I’ll blow him away. You don’t understand, I just want to get off this station!”

“Easy, easy. I’m not coming any closer. I want to get off the station too. We just have to finish this task, and we’ll leave. And take you with us.”

She looked from Terese to Denzel, then down to Ollie. She just started lowering the shotgun, when a gunshot rang out from the pipes leading into the filtration system. Laurel did not say anything, but blood trickled from her mouth and she fell forward. A large hole was in the back of her helmet…and head.

C-5414 walked forward, a long rifle held in his hands.

“What did you do?!” Terese shouted. She ran forward to check on Laurel, but she was dead.

C-5414 looked confused. “I was helping save you. She had a gun to Ollie.”

Denzel did not say anything, he just picked up his weapon and motioned for Terese to do the same. He walked over and cut Ollie free. The scientist rubbed his wrists, then picked up the shotgun.

“Sorry.” Was all he said. He did not look at Laurel.

+1 Stress to Ollie (9), Terese (12), and Denzel (14).

“Shadow is starting the attack on Eden, we have to get in the secret way and attack from the back.” C-5414 motioned to the pipe with the rope. A half dozen other Forsaken androids joined them in the room. “Where’s ADA?”

“She’s still in there. I agree, let’s get going!” Denzel started climbing the rope that led back into Eden’s Visitor Shrine.

Mythic, are there any cherubim in the Visitor’s shrine when they arrive? 26 Yes.

How many 1d10=5

Denzel and the others climbed through the smelly pipes that ended at the skin covered Visitor’s Shrine. Two of the machete wielding cherubim stood guard at each of the doors to the lounge and the Garden. A single guard paced within the room.

“We should be out there killing those traitors!” he was growling as he paced, slashing his machete at imaginary foes in the air.

“We have our orders.” One of the others replied calmly in an identical voice.

Denzel took careful aim from the pipe at one of the stationary guards. He let loose a shotgun blast with a deafening roar in the confines of the pipe.

Denzel Combat [+] 87,79 vs 40. Fail. +1 Stress. 15 Stress.

The steel wool passed harmlessly over the guard’s head, ripping into the psuedoskin stretched over the walls. The guards, armed only with machetes, ran for cover in the Garden, closing the door behind them. Another blast rocked the station.

Monarch stress +1, 10 Stress
Monarch Panic d20=2 More hostile encounters with Security androids.

Denzel and the rest of the crew with him climbed from the pipe, warily watching for the enemy. Two of the Forsaken opened the door to the Garden with a swift kick. One of the cherubim was on the other side, and slashed into the head of the Forsaken, who fell down dead immediately.

Denzel Android Empathy +1 Stress (16), Ollie (10), Terese (13)

The other Forsaken tackled the angel to the ground. C-5414 assisted in the struggle, trying to disarm the cherubim, while the rest of the crew ran into the Garden.

They saw one of the doors closing to the south, ADA strapped into a chair in the room, screaming.

Denzel and the others ran to the door, it was locked! ADA’s screams on the other side of the bulkhead door were muffled, but audible. He was about to start cutting open the door, when it was yanked open by one of the cherubim. He looked as surprised as they were, but recovered in time to slash his blade at Denzel.

Denzel dodge Speed 05 vs 40 Success

Denzel jumped out of the way of the clumsy strike and Terese blasted her pulse rifle, followed quickly by Ollie’s shotgun.

Terese attack 38 vs 46 Hit. 3d10 damage=14 damage. 6/20 Health
Ollie attack 30 vs 44 Hit. 4d10=31 damage. 2 Wounds, Killed

All +1 Stress from Empathy. Ollie 11, Terese 14, Denzel 17

Both the shotgun and pulse rifle connected and the cherubim blossomed two huge holes in its chest. It flew backward and to the ground. ADA struggled in the chair, a cable with a surgical steel data jack dangling beside her head.

“Thank the Minotaur you arrived! They were about to reprogram me!” she wailed uncharacteristically.

Terese moved to unbind her from the chair while the others watched as mayhem ensued in the Garden. Other Forsaken had entered through the sewer tunnel and now they were rampaging through the area, blasting unarmed androids. This wasn’t right. Whatever was happening, this wholesale slaughter was wrong either way.

But Denzel had no time for android moral quandaries. They had to get back to the throne room. He gave ADA her shotgun back, then they all ran to the locked door to the court.

“Did you see what code they used to unlock the door?” Denzel breathed.

“Of course.” ADA winked, again uncharacteristically. She began punching in keystrokes and the door clicked open. Inside the court, the throne was empty, the King and Queen nowhere to be seen.

But new ADA was there. She raised an SMG and fired at original ADA.

New ADA attack old ADA [Coward] [-] 17,43 vs 24 Fail.

The SMG burped out a burst, but ADA rolled to the ground out of the way. Without thinking, or recognizing the new android as ADA, Terese fired back.

Terese attack 36 vs 46 Hit. 3d10=9. 5/14
Ollie attack 17 vs 44 Hit. 4d10=22. 2 Wounds 11/14 health.
1^st Wound=7 Major blood loss, bleeding +4
2^nd Wound=1 Grazed Knocked down

Denzel attack [+] prone 65,52 vs 40. Fail. +1 Stress. 18 Stress

The new humanlike ADA received a shotgun blast to the stomach and chest,and the pulse rifle blast spun her around in the shoulder. Denzel’s shot flew over her as she fell to the ground. Red blood, not white pseudomilk, pooled beneath her and she groaned in pain.

“Stop!” ADA shouted. She walked up to the fallen woman and kicked away her SMG.

Tenderly, ADA rolled over the injured woman, blood pouring from her mouth. New ADA gave a cough and reached up to stroke the face she had struck earlier.

ADA gently reached out her hands and choked the woman to death, never breaking eye contact. Denzel moved to stop her, but Ollie grabbed his arm.

He hissed into his ear. “Can’t you see, that’s a copy of ADA. A pity, she was hot.”

Denzel had not seen, but he did now. He turned to the throne while ADA finished her necessary task. “Help me look for that transmitter!”

The others in the crew fanned out, all of them frantically searching for this mysterious transmitter. Gunfire and explosions increased in frequency nearer and nearer to the throne room.

Mythic, can they find the transmitter before more guards arrive? 85 No.

While they searched, two more cherubim burst into the room, both bloody from their combat. When the door opened, the gunfire echoed into the room.

They saw too late that the crew was here in their sanctuary as well.

Denzel attack 31 hit. 4d10=14. 6/20
Terese attack 33 critical hit. 3d10X2=44. Killed
Ollie attack 93 miss. +1 stress. 12 stress
ADA attack [-] 84 miss. +1 stress. 9 stress

Denzel, Terese, Ollie, increase by 1 stress for Empathy.

Cherbuim attack Denzel 06 Hit. 2d10 damage=9. 2^nd wound.

Death save d10=0 Unconscious, wake in 2d10=6 minutes. -1d5 max health=3. Max health now at 8.

The crew opened fire, and the first of the cherubim dropped to the ground, but the second closed the distance, swinging his machete at Denzel. The crew leader tried to turn away from the blow, but the blade slashed across his back. He fell to the ground, blood covering him.

“Noo!” Terese screamed.

Terese Panic save=17 vs 15 Save.
Ollie Panic save=7 vs 13. Panic. Nightmares [-] on Rest Saves
ADA Panic save=1 vs 9. Panic. Adrenaline rush. [+] on rolls for 2d10=6 minutes. -1d5=4 stress. Now at 5 stress.

Terese attack 10 Hit. 3d10=25. 1 wound. 15/20
1^st wound=5 Lodged Bullet.

Ollie attack 80 Fail. +1 stress. 14 Stress
ADA attack [Advantage and Coward balance out] 48 Fail. +1 Stress. 6 Stress

Cherubim attack Terese 32 vs 30 Fail.

Shots rang out as the crew fired over their downed leader, the cherubim swinging their weapons among them. He slashed wildly at Terese, but her shotgun blast knocked him away from her. The others missed their shots. The remaining Forsaken in the room continued to search for the transmitter.

Terese attack 50 Miss. +1 stress. 16 Stress
Ollie attack 01 Hit. 4d10 damage=22 Killed.

Ollie, Terese +1 stress.

The last cherubim fell to the vengeful shots from Terese and Ollie. ADA rushed to Denzel and began to check his vitals.

“He is alive!” she breathed a sigh of relief and immediately began bandaging his back.

Just then, one of the Forsaken held up a small device, about the size of a soup can.

“That must be it!” Terese said. The android nodded and smashed it onto the ground.

A high-pitched frequency lanced out from the device, forcing all the androids to their knees in agony. But when it was over, something was noticeably different for ADA.

She heard a voice in her head that she recognized as the Minotaur.

“I’m free.”

End of Scene

Chaos factor 7

Open thread, escape the Deep

We know that the Minotaur still cannot leave the Deep, until he segregates himself from Monarch. But this was a huge step forward for his goals of doing so. Likewise, any of the Chosen or Forsaken can leave the floor, as well as ADA.

I really thought Denzel was a goner, and he certainly will need some medical treatment soon. Now they just need to get the heck out of there!

Denzel 0/8 HP, 2/2 wounds, 19 Stress
Terese 17/17 HP, 0/2 wounds, 17 Stress
Ollie 17/17 HP, 0/2 wounds, 15 Stress [Nightmares]
ADA 14/14 HP, 0/3 wounds, 6 Stress [Coward]

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My character, Trifon, leveled up last week, but I failed to give him his new Special ability. As a Disgraced character, he can choose any special ability from another class.

I am tempted to take Miracles from the Priest class. Since Trifon cursed God, I think it would be interesting for God to “still love him” and grant him the use of miracles. Let’s do it!

Miracles: Each day can cast d4 miracles. Choose from the “type” (Blessed be, Begone, and May thy) and roll a d4 to randomly see what is granted.

This day: d4=4!

Nice, we’ll need these.

In the last episode, Trifon returned to his home, a mausoleum in the Necropolis of Kerameikos, to find all of his people slain, except for the trader, Tio. In extreme anger and depression, Trifon cursed God, and a part of his soul left his body until he could find grace again. While he wept, a vampire returned to the noise and Trifon was able to harm it enough for it to flee, dropping its sword. The man Tio has an ancient holy relic that he believes needs to be taken to Rome. Trifon has agreed to help him.

Trifon and Tio emerged from the mausoleum, the dimness of the everlasting night still brighter than the torchlit shadows of the tomb. Trifon turned back to look at his wife and daughter a final time. The refurbished tomb now fulfilled its original purpose once again. He kissed his hand and placed it onto the doorframe, then closed the door.

Wrapped in the flag of Kerameikos, he looked like an overzealous patriot as he and Tio crept down the silent streets. Silent except for the occasional scream as vampires purged the necropolis of its living inhabitants.

“It’s not far now,” Tio whispered as they walked along. They dared not light a torch and draw attention to themselves. Every shadow between the beautifully crafted tombs threatened to hide an enemy, but so far, they had not been spotted.

The cut under Trfion’s eye was beginning to swell and obscure his vision.

“Are you ok, that cut is looking worse.”

“What can be done, I am not blessed by God any longer,” Trifon growled.

Cast Blessing Miracle d4=1. +1 HP to all creatures nearby
Trifon 5/16 HP.
Miracles left=3

As he uttered the words, he could feel the skin on his face tugging. Tio gasped as he watched the wound close on its own and the skin reduced its swelling. Tio made the sign of the cross on himself.

“I would not discount God yet, my friend. He is still with you.”

Trifon wanted to growl another curse but held his tongue. He could settle his anger with God later.

Random Encounter table Town 2d6=7. 1 Demonsiege Weapon. Jesus! Why in the world would this be put as the most common encounter on a 2d6 table! Reading through the entries, it is almost backwards to what you would expect. The most extreme encounters are on 5,6,7,8,9 and the more “ordinary” encounters are 2 and 12.

Oh well!

Art from Sanguis Sanctus

As they neared the docks, the ground rumbled beneath their feet. Then again. And again. All was silent. Then BOOM! A thunderous roar filled the air. The sound of masonry and stone being shattered apart and tumbling to the ground added to the cacophony.

“Lord, save us!” Tio yelled. Trifon could not hear him over the ringing in his ears.

Whatever had just happened, it was situated between them and the docks. Trifon motioned for Tio to stay there and he crept forward, sword flashing in the dim light. He peeked around the corner of a building and barely suppressed a shudder.

Filling the entirety of the square in front of the docks was a monstrous beast. It had a rounded, hardened body, with six articulated legs. Protruding from the front were two massive claws flanking a ghostly slightly humanoid shaped face. Above it all, thrust from the shell as if it were forced through the chitin, a colossal cannon. Sitting atop it, laughing maniacally, though Trifon could not hear him, was a vampire.

Trifon pulled back behind the building. How would they ever get past that thing and onto Tio’s ship? And even if they made it to the ship, how would they escape without being blown to bits by that cannon?

Spark tables: Protect + Treachery

Trifon started back toward Tio, and when he deafly rounded the corner, he stumbled into another vampire, this one holding a crossbow.

Surprise: 6,2. PC, no. Vampire, yes

Trifon attack d20+1=19. Hit.
Use Blessing to Maximize Damage
7 damage – 1 armor (d2)=6. Vampire -1 HD. 1 HD left

Trifon jabbed with his sword, untrained in its use. But the sharpened steel sliced into the vampire’s back, only missing its heart by mere inches.

Initiative PC

Trifon attack d20+1=19 Hit.
1d6+1=6. Killed

Trifon +2 HP. 7/16.

The vampire gasped in pain and stumbled forward. Before he could recover, Trifon followed up with a decapitating blow, the vampire’s severed head rolling across the street, his body slumping to ground.

Trifon looked around wildly, his hearing slowly beginning to return. The streets were silent, except for the occasional laughter from the mounted vampire a few streets over. Quickly, Trifon scooped up the crossbow and the bolts.

I’ll utilize Usage die for the bolt ammo. How much ammo did he have?
1-d4, 2-d6, 3-d8, 4-d10. D4=3. I’ll start with d8 ammo. Every time I fire, I’ll roll the d8. If I get a 1 or a 2, I’ll decrease the usage die a step. Once the d4 rolls a 1 or 2, I’ll be out.

Trifon quickly worked out how to utilize the weapon, and hopefully his inexperience would not cost him his life. But this weapon was his only chance at killing that vampire riding the large beast. How the beast would react without a rider…well…he would have to cross that bridge later.

He crept back around the corner once again and peeked, he could see the vampire was preparing another shot with the cannon. Trifon covered his ears with his palms.

WHOOM!

The earth shook from the concussion of the blast. The massive cannonball soared into a building a few blocks over, reducing it to rubble.

“Begone you foul beast!” Trifon muttered aloud.

Begone Miracle cast d4=4. 3d6+3 damage to a creature you can see.
3d6+3=14. 4 HD damage. The demonsiege weapon has 2 HD left.
2 Miracles left

Before he could aim and fire his crossbow, a lightning bolt lanced from the heavens. It struck the metal cannon thrusting from the shell of the beast and it cracked with a loud explosion. The beast stumbled to the side of the street from the impact and crashed into a nearby building. Its vampire rider was crushed as the masonry collapsed onto it.

The beast wailed in agony and rage. It then began to flail about itself with its giant pincers, destroying everything in its path.

What had just happened!? Had God heard his muttered words? He had no time to contemplate and aimed his first bolt for the beast’s ghostly face.

Initiative PC

Trifon attack d20-1=14 (Demonsiege has a DR of 10 because it is so massive)
1d8 -d4 armor=3-2=1. No damage.
Usage die d8=3 No usage

Trifon fired his first bolt and it skipped harmlessly from the hardened carapace of the rampaging demonic creature.

Oracle, does it see Trifon to attack him? 3 No

Trifon attack d20-1=5 miss
Usage die d8=8

Oracle does it see Trifon? 7 No

Trifon attack d20-1=17 Hit
1d8-d4 armor=3-4=0 No damage
Usage= 5

Miracle Begone d4=1. 1d4 damage to Creature you can see
1d4=1 No damage
Miracles 1 left

Oracle does it see Trifon? 17 Yes

Initiative PC

Trifon attack =14 Hit
6-4=2. -1 HD. 1HD left
Usage=5

Morale 11 vs 8= Enemy flees

Trifon +2 HP. 9/16

Trifon fired a few more bolts ineffectually at the beast as it stomped around the square, smashing into surrounding buildings.

“Please Lord, if you are listening, help me once again.” He said meekly. Pieces of masonry collapsed onto the monster as it thrashed about, but it did not seem to harm him. Perhaps God was not intervening on his behalf after all. It had only been happenstance before. Or something else.

He fired another shot, and this one plunged into the black hole that was one of its eye sockets. It wailed in pain! It spun on its spindly chitinous legs, and fled into the water, sinking beneath the surface.

Trifon looked around at the devastation. Hopefully no one had been in those buildings. Likely if they had, they were already dead like those in his own sanctuary. He raced back around the building to where Tio cowered in an alley.

“Let’s go!” Trifon growled.

“What was going on over there?” Tio whimpered.

“No time to explain, get to the ship!”

The two men raced through the streets to where Tio’s small coastal trade craft was moored. They quickly prepared the ship and soon were sailing out of the bay and into the Mediterranean. Next stop, Rome!

End of scene

Trifon level up.

D10 HP increase=2. HP Max at 18

Ability increase Presence d6=2. Increase from -1 to 0

Test Sword for damage increase d6=2 No

Consume 1 ration. 6 remaining
Rest for the night d6 HP=1. Bah
10/18 HP.

D2 Blessings=1.
d4 Miracles=3
I need to make sure I’m using all of my daily abilities!

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Art from Dolmenwood Player’s Book

In the last episode, the two squires met Madame Shantywood, the mother of Arda, the youth they had rescued. Alfred proceeded to embarrass himself with an unfortunate interaction with Grewigg, the breggle woman he was interested in. He bathed alone, and met another servant Enya, who might have a new quest for the squires.

Chaos factor 5

Expected scene: Attend Shantywood reunion celebration

Test the Scene: 2 Interrupt Scene
Random event table: 85 PC Positive
Descriptor table: Slowly + Powerful

Day: Moot, 11^th of Braghold.
Weather: 12 Icy, gentle snow

Chateau Shantywood

I also forgot to award the XP for completing the Arda quest.

300 XP for each.

Alfred 5100 XP. Level 4 at 9000 XP
Hogrid 4542 XP. Level up to 3. Level 4 at 9000 XP.

Hogrid HP d8=5-1 Con Max HP now at 12.
Base attack at +2
Update Saves

Attribute updgrades:
Str No
Int 18,yes. Now at 11
Wis No
Dex 10,yes. Now at 5
Con No
Cha No

We had two upgrades, which isn’t bad, but neither resulted in modifier adjustments. Good to see his Dex coming up a little though. Time spent away from his father and his obsessive drug use is perhaps having a good effect on Hogrid.

Full day of rest 1d3 HP restored.
Hogrid: 3. 11/12
Alfred: 3. 10/16

I’m going to start tracking something called Bond Points for my NPCs that will have long term interactions with our PCs. I’ll only track those for Alfred, Hogrid is kind of a “sub-PC”. Rules around the bond tracking can be found here.

Since he angered Grewigg, Alfred’s bond with her is now -1 (that’s in the Dislike level). She may or may not accompany them on the next quest, during which time he might have an opportunity to increase this bond.

Alfred awoke the following morning to snow falling outside his window. He had closed the heavy curtains the night before and now stood with them thrown aside and the shutters opened. The cold air rushed into the room, but he had already stoked the small fireplace in his room. He breathed in the smell of an upcoming winter, then closed the shutters once again, allowing the fire to vanquish the cold. He quickly washed and dressed, and proceeded downstairs to the common room of the Shantywood Chateau, to whittle away some of the time before the celebrations started.

Mythic, does he see Hogrid and Grewigg there? 63 No.
Does he see Enya? 52 No.
Is there an elf singing? 60 No. It’s a Grimalkin then.

Alfred wandered among the sea of tables in the large common room, searching for a familiar face, but did not see anyone he knew. Upon a small dais, a female grimalkin with long, well-groomed fur sang in her cat-like voice about a ship falling prey to sirens during its final voyage. While she sung, her fur went from a greyish white, to the dark, murky blue of the deep ocean.

A breggle male sat at a table alone, sipping a drink and eating a meal of jellied lamprey. His squirrel and rabbit fur robes seemed a little rustic compared to the opulence of the chateau. Aflred looked down at his own borrowed clothes, a much fancier tunic and tights than he had ever worn. They had been laid out for him, a gift from Madame Shantywood. The breggle saw him looking at him, and motioned for him to come sit down.

The breggles’ black eyes with sliver pupils matched perfectly his silver fur flecked with black speckles. A spiky mane of ginger colored hair was swept away from his dour face.

“Come, have a seat, hero.” His voice came out as a sort of gurgling sound.

“Hello, I’m Alfred Burl.”

“I know who you are, its all everyone can talk about. The heroes who saved Arda.” He motioned for one of the servants to come over and ordered a Keye’s Balm ale for Alfred. “I’m Crewwin. Crewwin Smallbuck. I’m a sorcerer’s apprentice to Lord Malbleat, and his envoy to Madame Shantywood.”

Alfred tried to recall all he had heard about Lord Malbleat. He knew he was the lord of this area of the High Wold. He thought he remembered him as being a sorcerer, which would make sense if this Crewwin was his apprentice. When Alfred’s ale arrived, he ordered the same meal the breggle had, the smell of it setting his stomach to rumbling.

Mythic Conversation focus: 22 Explanation

After some small talk, and a few mugs of ale, Crewwin’s tongue began to loosen, and his dour mood improved somewhat. He leaned forward conspiratorially, “Lord Malbleat sent me here, because he and the Madame share a common goal of ridding the High Wold of the noxious rule of Lord Murkin. It was he who murdered the Madame’s daughter.”

Alfred had a few drinks himself, and he gasped, half-drunkenly. “Perhaps we should swear a knight’s vow to bring him to justice!”

Crewwin grinned mischievously. “Word is, that you and young Hogrid have yet to swear your vows to Lady Mulbrek. Might I convince you to swear to Lord Malbleat instead? He is always looking to increase his retinue.” He leaned forward again and whispered, “And I’ve heard Lady Mulbrek has confined herself in her manor. Not taking any visitors.”

It had not occurred to Alfred to swear to anyone but Lady Mulbrek. But perhaps it might be beneficial to swear to Malbleat, if Lady Mulbrek could not or would not accept visitors.

Mythic, Is one of the Mulbrek sons here at Shantywood? 93 no.

Plus, if Alfred swore to a breggle lord, perhaps that would win him some favor with Grewigg. He was definitely warming to the idea.

Mythic Conversation focus: 97. Roll on Conversation tables. Grateful + Loud

As Crewwin got more inebriated, he began to speak more loudly. “I’m sure Lord Malbleat would be grateful for the service of you young heroes. He will be having the feast of Hlerribuck to celebrate the life of his ancestor, Lord Gnarlgruff early next week in Shadholme. If you and Hogrid accompany me, perhaps we could get you sworn in as part of the festival.”

Mythic, does this convince Alfred to swear to Malbleat, very likely? 22 Yes. And Random Event.
Random Event table: 12 New NPC

Skill challenge from Astonishing Random Tables: 10 That’s Not Yours. Requires 3 successful intelligence checks before 2 failures. A woman exclaims her earrings were stolen.

A woman shrieked at a nearby table, obviously drunk, just like everyone else in the room. “Someone stole my diamond earrings!” and she clasped at her naked earlobes to demonstrate the fact.

Alfred, being a man of great honor, stood to go investigate this travesty of justice. He swayed a little as he walked toward the distraught woman.

“Ma’am, my name is Alfred Burl. I would be pleased to assist you in the matter of your theft,” and he proceeded to bow clumsily.

“Alfred Burl? Aren’t you one of the knights who saved young Arda? How delightful! You would take the time to assist poor little me!” Her hair was piled upon her head in a honey colored beehive shape.

Alfred blushed from the recognition. But went straight away to the investigation. He questioned the woman, named Roese, and found that they had just disappeared a few moments ago. Alfred began to peer around her table, looking for any clues.

Alfred Constitution to check for inebriation d6= 1 Fail. Tipsy: -1 penalty to attack rolls (I’ll also apply this to his investigation rolls)

Alfred Int for investigation d6-1=1 Fail. 1/2 Failures

Alfred looked around the table, but his bleary eyes were unable to find anything out of the ordinary. He decided to speak to those patrons around Roese’s table, to see if anyone had spied anything suspicious.

Alfred Int for investigation d6-1=3 Fail. 2/2 Failures

Whether it was his slurred speech, or the inebriation of the potential witnesses, Alfred was unable to glean any useful information from the surrounding people. Just as he was going to speak to Roese about further leads, a man was apprehended near the entrance of the common room, trying to sneak out. He was a very handsome fellow, and the women guarding the door spotted the glint of diamond earrings in hands as he tried to sneak out.

Roese clapped her hands enthusiastically at the return of her goods, and decided to not press charges against the handsome fellow, instead offering to buy him a drink. Alfred stood forgotten near her table.

“Well, that went over well.” Crewwin laughed in his gurgling voice. Alfred shot him an annoyed look, but it soon turned into laughter as well.

Alfred’s mind swam with random drunken thoughts. But his decision to swear to Lord Malbleat at this upcoming festival kept bubbling to the surface.

The rest of the celebratioin was uneventful, with drink and partying increasing as the day turned into evening. Soon, a rousing band played dance music, and Enya found Alfred drinking another pint of ale.

“Are you still up for that dance,” she asked. Her scanty uniform from the previous day had been replaced by a clingy, nearly transparent dress.

Alfred blushed but accepted her hand and they went out to the area of the room, cleared of tables for dancers. Some were engaged with an intricate court dance, but coming from a country town, he put his hands on Enya’s waist and began to swing her about in the couple’s dance steps he was more accustomed to.

Enya starts at a bond level 1, acquaintence

I think a dance is equivalent to a hug, Action Offer a hug DC 4. D6+0=4 So that is a success. We’ll roll the impact die of a d6 to see if her friendship increases. D6=4 vs 0. She goes up to level 2 Bond Points

Chemistry roll d6=6 There is chemistry. Romance actions are available.

Enya and Alfred laughed and danced, as the night progressed. At some point, he spied Hogrid and Grewigg doing the same, but with Enya filling his vision, the jealousy was muted. Finally, the music paused while the musicians took a break, and the two dancers retreated to a table to have some small talk.

Action Small talk d6+4=4 vs 3. Success. Impact 1d4=2. This is not higher than their current bond of 4, so no increase.

They both shared tales of their growing up, along with what they wanted to do with their lives. Alfred mentioned swearing his knight oaths to Lord Malbleat, and Enya’s eyes sparkled with interest.

“Lord Malbleat? I thought you were going to swear to Lady Mulbrek?”

“I was, but I heard she has gone into reclusion. I met a breggle this morning who knows Lord Malbleat, and he mentioned he was looking to increase his retinue.”

Enya placed her hands over Alfred’s, causing his ears to turn red. “Would you do me a favor then?” She looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear. She leaned in regardless, her mouth inches from Alfred’s ear. He could feel her hot breath as she spoke lowly. “I think someone in the employ of Lord Malbleat has kidnapped folks from Lankshorn. Including my sister’s daughter, Emelda. If you swear to Malbleat, that will give you some inside access to his court to investigate.”

She finished speaking, but she did not withdraw, her face still hovering near his own.

Alfred try to give her a kiss (DC 7). D6+2=8! Success.
Impact 1d8=7. That’s higher than their bond of 4, so increase bond to a 3. That puts her up to a Friend level/Interested in Romance

Alfred gathered his courage, with an assist from the many tankards of ale, and turns to face the woman. She did not pull back her face, so he leaned in and tenderly kissed her lips. She placed a hand on the back of his neck, and they proceeded to kiss for the next several minutes.

Mythic, does Grewigg see them kissing? 53 No.

The merriment continued throughout the night, with Madame Shantywood giving a speech about the nobility and heroics of the two squires, Hogrid and Alfred. The two young men did not see each other all night with the crowds, but they both had a grand time during the celebration.

One good time too many table from Astonishing Random Tables: d20=5 Your spend the night gambling and win coin and interesting items.

3d6X10 gp=90 GP. Now at 544 gp
Common magic item table d100=65 Potion
Potion d20=6 Elixir of Mutability. Transforms the imbiber into a creature of choice for 1d6+6 turns. Does not alter HP, Saves, or Int. Physical abilities (str, movement, physical attacks) are acquired.
”What in the world is this?” Table: d20=10 Mechanical compass that does not point North, but points somewhere else unknown instead.

Alfred and Enya spent the remainder of the night gambling and stealing kisses in dark corners. The party began to taper off sometime in the early hours of morning, and Alfred decided to retire for some rest. He could see from the gleam in Enya’s eyes that she might be open to something more, but he decided not to rush things.

He juggled the strange compass and a valuable Elixir of Mutability he won, in addition to a heap of coin, and planted a final kiss on Enya’s lips. She cupped his face in her hand as he said goodnight, and they both went to their separate rooms.

End of Scene

Chaos factor 4

Close thread: Attend Celebration
Open Thread: Travel to Shadholme for Lord Malbleat’s festival
Open Thread: Investigate Emelda’s kidnapping

In the next session, Crewwin will join the party for the next little bit. We’ll roll to see if Hogrid decides to swear to Malbleat instead of Mulbrek. We’ll also roll to see if Grewigg decides to join the party to travel with Hogrid.

In the last episode, Naveel began investigating the disappearance of Reheni and Myron n the village of Matanga. Initially, he believed that Myron might have been behind Reheni’s absence, believing that she should be a sacrifice to appease the elder pig spirit Roghora in the region. Soon, however, he found multiple ties between Reheni and the Chanterelle clan, specifically pictures of clan members watching Reheni while she foraged in the woods. Naveel took the evidence to the guards, and now they are proceeding to the Chanterelle homes in the village to find out the truth.

Chaos Factor 7

Expected Scene: Confront Marvolio Chanterelle

Test the scene d10=6 Interrupt Scene

Random Scene: 14 New NPC.

I kind of had in my mind that Myron would reappear as they proceeded to the Chanterelle household, and the dice have agreed with that!

It was late afternoon before Naveel had gathered enough evidence to confront the Chanterelle clan with the kidnapping. Two of the village militia accompanied him as they strode through the cobblestoned village streets. As they neared the section of the village where the Chanterelle homes were, a commotion arose from nearby.

Naveel did not want to be sidetracked, but the militia insisted, as they were the only two people on duty in the village at the moment. And so, Naveel acquiesced, and the three of them headed over to where the noise emanated. To Naveel’s surprise, Myron the Lichen Sage was sauntering into the village, sweaty from a long trip into the forest. The old man was surprised his arrival had given rise to such a ruckus.

“Hmph, hmph, yes, well…hello to you all I suppose.” The old man mumbled in his beard. Dirt streaked his sweat stained face, and brambles and stickers clung to his robes in various places.

Calls asking where he had been rang out, along with questions about Reheni. The sage was shocked to learn that the young Truffle Prince had gone missing.

“Missing?! Why, I have been to the altar of Roghora, laying an offering of the most rare mushrooms in the Gift. I was not missing. If you imbeciles had given more than a thought about listening to me when I speak, you would have known I had left for this task yesterday.”

The calls for Reheni’s location came again. “I do not know where the Young Miss is, unfortunately. She was not with me when I left. Has anyone began a true investigation to figure out where she is, without blindly laying blame at my feet?”

Naveel stepped forward and raised his hands to calm the crowd. A few of the older villagers chuckled at this young man assuming control of the situation. “The militia and I have began an investigation and believe we have a strong suspect in her disappearance. Please bear with us as we attempt to bring the mystery to a conclusion.”

“Who are you!?”

“Why should we trust a stanger!?”

“What about the festival?!”

Shouts rang out from the crowd. The sage let it continue for a few minutes, then raised his hands for silence. The crowd began to settle down at his insistence. “I propose we follow through with what the boy has found, regardless of him being a stranger. Sometimes an outside eye is needed to see through what we might make as assumptions.”

The crowd murmured their acceptance and began to disperse.

Myron turned to Naveel and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Do you need me to accompany you, or do you feel the support of these two is enough. My journey has been very hard.”

Naveel looked to the guards and they nodded. “I think we can handle it from here. I’m glad to see you are safe at least. When the both of you were gone at the same time…well…everyone was worried.”

The man blew out his mustache. “Worried, indeed! Everyone assumed I was at fault. No matter how magic has helped these folks, they always assume it is to blame for things that go wrong.” He harumphed again and walked away, mumbling to himself about idiots.

Naveel for one was glad the druid was not involved. He hoped to learn some things from the old sage. Later, of course. He motioned for the guards to lead the way, and they walked together down the street toward Chanterelle’s neighborhood. Some of the villagers saw them walking and tried to follow inconspicuously.

Mythic Actions: Personal + Imitate

They arrived at the home of Marvolio Chanterelle and knocked on his door. There was a noise of someone rushing around inside, then the door opened and the flamboyant man stood there with a forced smile.

“Ah, the detective has returned. How can I help you now?”

Naveel wasted no time and bluntly asked the question. “Do you know where Reheni is currently?”

DC 13
Insight d20+5=22 Success

Marvolio glanced from the militia with their spears to Naveel, then stepped forward and closed the door quietly behind him. He spoke in a whisper, glancing behind his accusers at the gathering of villagers watching.

“Please, let us settle this elsewhere. There has been a mistake.”

“Mistake, what mistake? Where is Reheni?” Naveel barked.

Marvolio made a motion with his hands to lower the volume. “Please, you must believe me, she is safe.”

One of the militia stepped forward and grabbed the man’s arm. Marvolio looked at the action with shock. “You are coming with me for questioning. Naveel, you and Esaine search this home.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Marvolio cried. “You don’t understand, it was all a mistake!” The man continued to wail as the guard hauled him away toward the town’s center.

Concerned about what they would find, Naveel and the guard Esaine pushed into the home and called out Reheni’s name. There was a muted response from the basement below them. The two of them rushed to find the stairs and descended quickly. Reheni was there in the center of the basement, tied to a chair with a rag stuffed into her mouth. A handsome middle-aged man stood behind her with a dagger to her neck.

“Come no closer! I will not allow Marvolio to cheat on me with his little hussie any longer, do you hear me!?” the man shouted, his hand holding the dagger shook with emotion.

“Craix? What are you doing, put down that dagger!” Esaine shouted to the man, who he apparently recognized.

“I will not be made a fool of!” the man Craix yelled back. “You hear me! I WILL NOT!”

Tears streamed down the terrified face of Reheni. Naveel knew they could not risk her getting hurt by the crazed individual, so he muttered under his breath and discreetly made the arcane motions for his spell, Pacify Person.

Pacify Person – This variation of the spell can be cast once per day without using a spell slot due to my Magic Initiate background. However, I have to use it with Wis instead of Int. So I only get a 15 Spell Save DC to resist. Since Craix is a commoner, I will give him a base score of 10 for his Wisdom save.

Craix Save 11 vs 15 fail.

As soon as the spell finished casting, Craix lowered the weapon and calmed down immediately. Esaine moved around Reheni quickly and bound the other man with rope.

“I have seen them whispering together. I know they are lovers and he is cheating on me with her.” The other man said in a monotone voice.

Naveel moved forward and gently removed the gag from Reheni’s mouth. She choked on the sudden release of pressure, then said with a sob, “We are NOT lovers! We have just been planning events for the Truffle Hunt!”

The man Craix looked down at her. “If only that were true. I know Marvolio has feelings for you. He begged for me to spare your life.”

Naveel shook his head. This was simple unbridled jealousy.

Reheni continued, “Noooo, he loves you! All he does is talk about the exciting things you will enjoy about this year’s festival!”

Craix looked devastated. Despite the spell quelling his emotions, tears welled up in his eyes. “I’m….I’m so sorry…I just thought…”

“Come on, tell it to the Village Elders. They will decide how to proceed.” Esaine said. He stopped beside Naveel and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, young one, for your help in unraveling this mess.”

Naveel nodded and the man proceeded out of the house with his prisoner. Naveel carefully cut the bonds on Reheni’s arms and legs and led her toward the stairs.

“Wait! Where is Gooma? Gooma!” she called out.

“Who is Gooma?” Naveel started to ask, but he found out soon enough as a small pig scurried out from under a bit of furniture covered with a sheet. The pig was ecstatic at seeing its friend freed from bondage and jumped up and down at her feet.

Reheni scooped up the pig and showered it with kisses. After a moment, she walked over to the sheeted furniture and pulled out her crown and scepter from beneath it. She placed the crown upon her head, and it seemed to cheer her up some.

“Now, let’s go get some supper!” she said to Gooma, and the pig squealed with delight!

End of scene

Chaos factor test=5. Decrease CF to 6.

Close thread: Confront Marvolio.

Add 30 XP. 110/300 XP.

Since that was short, I’ll throw in another scene!

Start Scene

Chaos factor 6

Expected Scene: Explore Matango Village and surroundings

Test the scene d10=6 Interrupt Scene
Random event: Move Away from Thread

Action: Disrupt + Tactic
I think this means the Chanterelle clan is not happy how things panned out and want to punish Naveel for the part he played in getting their leader and his husband arrested.

Naveel walked alongside Reheni and Gooma, and the girl sighed. She was only a few years older than Naveel, but she seemed very wise. Like she had been through a lot in her life.

“That was terrifying. I’m Reheni, what was your name again?” she spoke looking straight ahead.

Naveel had a feeling she wanted to talk, but also remain emotionally distant until she could make sense of everything. He told her his name.

“So, Naveel, how did you figure out the Chanterelle’s had me?”

“Well, I did not know for certain. But…I met with Marvolio, as it was mentioned he had been the last person to see you in the village. When I questioned him, he seemed…off…somehow. Like he was hiding something. So, that immediately had me suspicious. Then, when we searched your house, we found some instapics you had taken of a figure in the woods watching you, and they were wearing a Chanterelle tunic. We knew if it wasn’t Marvolio directly, he was involved somehow.”

Reheni nodded, and placed a hand on Naveel’s arm. “Thank you, seriously. I thought I was going to be killed…” her voice caught in her throat and she cleared it harshly.

“Of course. I’m just glad we were able to stop the guy in time.”

“Strangely, both he and Marvolio were involved in planning the Truffle Hunt. I don’t know what came over him. So strange for him to turn so suddenly against me.” She looked away as she spoke, surreptitiously wiping away tears.

Naveel thought a moment. Perhaps there was still more to this story than they had first thought. Maybe it was not just jealousy. He thought of the Corruption…

“Had…uhhh…what was his name?” Naveel began.

“Craix?” she finally turned to look at Naveel.

“Yes, Craix. Had Craix left Matango Village recently?”

Mythic had Craix left Matango? 36 vs 65 Yes.
To the east? 93 No

“Yes, he was travelling all around the Gift, advertising the upcoming Truffle Hunt. Why?” She had stopped. Gooma nudged her leg impatiently, wanting to get on to dinner.

“Hmmm, nothing probably. Especially if he was just here in the Gift. But…I don’t know.”

“What is it?” she placed a hand on his arm and Naveel suddenly noticed how beautiful she was. Nope, right now was not the time to think about that.

“Well, there was an AHA Ranger in Yatamon that claimed the Corruption was spreading to the ocean near Yatamon. It is rumored that when people come in contact with it, it can change their personalities. Make them angry, and bitter.” He shrugged to acknowledge he did not know if it was true or not.

“Isn’t that just rumors though?” her eyebrows were high into her hairline. Despite the question it was obvious she was worried about it.

He shrugged again, and she finally removed her hand from his arm. He could still feel the heat of her palm print. “I should probably get on to the inn to have some dinner,” he said with regret.

“Do you mind if I come with you? I don’t really want to be alone in my house tonight.” She said almost pleadingly.

Naveel turned red. Surely, she just meant dinner and not sleeping in his room. Surely.

“For dinner I mean,” she quickly corrected. She too turned red, realizing what he must have been thinking. They both stood there shyly blushing until Naveel finally cleared his throat.

“Yeah, let’s go grab a bite.” He smiled his best smile to break some of the tension. From the deep crimson in her cheeks, it might have made things worse.

They both enjoyed a delicious bowl of mushroom stew that Mrs. Padma brought out, and one for Gooma. Reheni talked about the festival last year, and how she would actually be glad to set aside the crown, as it was a lot of work being Truffle Prince.

Though, she admitted having a place of her own here in the village was actually nice until the kidnapping. It was getting late, so Naveel said his farewells to Reheni. The girl decided to rent a room in the inn instead of going home for the night.

Naveel hurried to his room, eager to get some rest after another long day. He was shocked to find two Chanterelle clan members in his room waiting for him. It was a man and a woman, both who seemed to share a familial bond, as they looked very much alike.

“What are you doing in my room?” Naveel snapped. His hands clenched on his quarterstaff.

“You should have minded your own business.” The man of the pair said. The woman had a hefty club in her hand and she tapped it into her palm.

Initiative Naveel 17, Chanterelles 6

Naveel move to exit room, opportunity attack from man, who Reacts with Root Cantrip DC 12.

Naveel Dex Acrobatics d20+1=10 Fail. Speed reduced to 10

Woman opportunity attack d20=12 Hit. 1d4=1. 7/8 HP.

Naveel turned and tried to flee the room, but when he did, he heard the man speak an arcane word and roots sprouted from the mushroom walls and grasped at his arms and legs. Before he could move into the hallway, he felt the club of the woman drub into the back of his head. He stumbled forward, dazed from the attack. He had to call for help, but he could not find his voice.

Initiative Naveel 4, Chanterelle 20

Man cast Armament. A handaxe appeared on the ground in front of him, and he picks it up.

Woman attack d20=11 Hit. 1d4=3. 4/8 HP.

Naveel cast Water Bullet against woman d20+6=14 vs AC 11. Hit. 5d6=20. -11/9 HP.

Anger suffused Naveel. More anger than he had ever felt before. The blow to his head was the first time he had ever truly been attacked, where the attacker meant him true harm. Not a bully or thug, but someone trying to kill him. He turned to see the woman swinging again and the club cracked into his shoulder, sending a jolt of pain down his arm. Behind her, Naveel could see the man picking up a hand ax he had summoned into existence.

Enough of this, he made a motion with his hand and spoke the words to Water Bullet. The gush of a swirling sphere of water burst into the woman’s face with more force than he intended. Her nose smashed down flat, blood gushing from the wound and she was knocked backward into the man who was just standing up from gaining his weapon. They fell in a heap and the man shouted out the woman’s name.

“Emilisa, no!” he cried. Naveel saw him cradling the unconscious woman’s head in his lap, the hand axe fell back to the floor.

“Help!” Naveel croaked dizzily. The other man looked up, as if remembering his foe still stood.

Initiative (-2 for foe) 5, Naveel 2

Man cast Bubble Lift DC 12. Naveel save Dex +1=7 Fail

Naveel cast Task, use dropped axe to pop bubble

Naveel recognized the other man started casting Bubble Lift, but the other man was faster and a bubble appeared around Naveel before he coudl do anything. The young man saw the man’s axe laying on the floor, and he cast Task, moving the axe to strike the bubble and pop it. The man growled in frustration as Naveel’s feet hit the floor, just seconds after being trapped.

Initiative Naveel 16, Man 17

Man stand to his feet and move to pick up axe.

Naveel attack Quarterstaff d20+2=19 vs 11 Hit. 1d8=3. 8/11 HP

The man dropped the woman’s head roughly to the floor as he dove for the hand axe now at Naveel’s feet. As his hand touched the handle, Naveel struck downward with his quarterstaff into the small of the man’s back. He let out an ooof of pain.

There are no morale checks in 5e, so I’ll just do a simple roll under Wis+1 modifier. If he succeeds, he keeps fighting, else he surrenders.

D20=10 vs 14 Save. He keeps fighting.

Initiative Naveel 10, Man 6

Naveel attack Quarterstaff +2=11 vs 11 AC Hit. 1d8=6. 2/11 HP

Man stand and attack Naveel at disadvantage 13,19 vs 11. Hit. 1d6=2. 2/8 HP.

Mythic, does anyone else come to see about the commotion, very likely? 25 Yes!

Who is it? High: guard, low: Reheni d6=3. Reheni

The man moved to stand, the axe now in hand and Naveel struck him again with his staff. However, he was in the cramped hallway, and had little room to make a strong swing. Undeterred, the other man swiped out with his hand axe and Naveel had to use his quarterstaff to absorb the blow. He winced as he saw a chunk of wood fly from the staff.

Reheni burst from her room down the hall, her hair a mess from having been asleep. She screamed at the sight of the melee in front of her. She ran back into her room, presumably to get a weapon or something to help.

Initiative Naveel 20, Man 19

Naveel use Jolt d20+6=24 Hit. 1d8=5. Man unconscious.

Deciding to try to end the fight quicker, Naveel pointed his staff at the man and yelled out the command word for his Jolt cantrip. Electricity crackled down his staff and leapt into the man’s body. He went stiff with the shock, then fell backward onto the prone form of his female companion. Naveel collapsed backward as Reheni came running up, dagger in hand. She glanced at the downed Chanterelles, then helped Naveel to his feet. She guided him into her room, shut the door, then hurried into the common room to get help.

Naveel sat dumbstruck on her bed. His head throbbed, and his arm ached from where the club had struck him. Luckily for him, the axe had not bit into his flesh or he would have been in worse shape. What was going on, why had those two attacked him? Because of Reheni? It made no sense for them to be so violent. Something else was happening here, but he was not sure what it was.

Soon Mrs. Padma entered the room and ushered him into a fresh clean room. Without asking, she helped him wash and get undressed and under the covers of his bed. She brought his things into his new room and shut the door. Murmuring comforting words all the while.

As he lay in the dark, having not said a word, he remembered the woman’s face as his water blasted into her nose. It had been a brutal attack, and though he did not regret saving his own life, he did not like having to hurt someone else. Her bloody-nosed visage haunted him as he drifted off to sleep.

End of scene

100 XP, 210/300 XP.

Full rest, restore spells and HP to 8/8.

Test chaos factor d10=6. Remains at 6

So much for having a non-combat oriented cozy game…sheesh. It was fun though, and I was on the edge of my seat on whether or not we would survive the encounter. Next episode, we’ll find out who those two were and maybe discover who or what was driving them to violence.

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Materials used: Achtung! Cthulhu Core, A!C Vive la Resistance, A!C Secret War Documents, Mythic GME 2e, A!C Operation Ultimatum, My personal WW2 Random Table

In the last episode, Diego destroyed a bridge that created a vital link for German fuel and supplies rushing to assist in the siege of Dunkirk. He was injured escaping the scene, and is now faced with the dilemma of getting to the British forces behind a ring of German panzer units.

Start Scene

Diego: 1 injury. Stress 8/14

Chaos factor 8

Expected Scene: Rendezvous with British Forces

Test the scene d10=2 Interrupt Scene

Random event: 39 NPC Action

Character Actions table: Oppose + Deceive

Is the character a partisan citizen in/around Dunkirk, likely? 92 No
They are not a partisan, but they hate the Germans and are supportive of the Allies and their plight.

Male/Female d6=2 Male
Name: Galland
Identity: Merchant
Descriptors: Elegant + Erratic

Diego rode his motorcycle for several miles, Dunkirk inching closer. But the blood loss he had suffered from the injury in his side was taking its toll on him. Progressively, it became harder and harder to keep his eyes open. He was nearing a small cluster of buildings still outside the perimeter set up by the German invaders. He pulled into the parking area killing the engine of the bike. He swung his leg over the seat to dismount, but his weariness and pain was greater than expected. In a clumsy and painful tumble, he fell to the ground. A Frenchman dressed in a fine suit had seen him from one of the buildings and rushed to his side.

He asked Diego a question in French, but not knowing what was being asked, Diego just pointed to his blood soaked shirt on his side.

“I need medical assistance,” he mumbled through the pain.

“Oui, oui,” the man responded, and helped Diego to his feet. Pain lanced through his side with every step.

A woman rushed out of the shop, also well dressed, and took Diego under his other arm. Together the French shopkeepers pulled the wounded man into their building. They ushered him into a stockroom, where the man cleared off a table stacked with fine women’s clothing. Diego laid gratefully down as the woman rushed from the room, ringing someone on a telephone. Deliriously, he hoped it wasn’t the Germans, but there was little he could do to protest.

“Uh, we try to help you,” and he sucked in air between his teeth, like the French do when speaking broken English. “Wife call doctor.”

He clasped Diego’s hand laying on the table, and gave it a friendly pat. Diego nodded in a daze. After an indeterminate amount of time, another grizzled Frenchman appeared at his side. He gave him a shot of something that deadened the pain, then proceeded to stitch up the wound.

Medical treatment TN=14 D2
2d20=16,18. Fail. Wound closed, but no stress recovered.

The doctor washed his hands, packed up his instruments, then spoke at length with the two worried shopkeepers. He nodded to Diego, then walked briskly out of the shop.

“Uh, doctor do little to help. You need hospital. Too dangerous in Dunkirk with Germans, but you need to find British, oui?”

“Oui.” Diego said weakly.

The man thought for a long moment, then called out orders for his wife in French. She said something back heatedly. He reiterated the same words, but with a little more softness in his voice. Whatever the back and forth was, she acquiesced, and began helping him load boxes of women’s clothing into a truck parked outside.

“We take you to British in uhhh…truck. Pack clothes around, hide you.” He patted Diego’s arm again reassuringly. Diego was too out of it to argue or comply either way, and only held up a hand.

“I have a case in my motorcycle sidecar, please bring it along?” The man looked at him confusedly, and Diego mimed turning the throttle on the motorcycle handlebars, then drew the shape of a rectangle with his hands in the air.

“Ah, oui, oui,” and he said something else to him in French.

After several minutes, Diego was assisted into the back of the truck, along with his case of papers and the strange weapons. Stacks of boxes were placed in front and around him, hopefully hiding him from prying eyes. The door to the cargo area rattled closed, and the engine sputtered to life. Before long, they were rattling down the French road, Diego wincing with every jounce.

He was unaware how much time had passed, but eventually the truck came to an idling stop. He tensed as he heard German voices barking orders to the Frenchman. The man responded in broken German, much as he had with his English. The cab door opened and closed, and he could hear them talking as they walked to the rear of the truck.

Diego tried to calm his breathing and remain as still and silent as possible.

Buy 1d20 with Momentum (1)
Stealth TN=13 D2
3d20=4,6,19. 2 Successes, 1 Complication

Mythic Curses: Pursue + Illness

The Germans half heartedly looked into the back of the truck. One of the men opened a few of the boxes, saw the women’s dresses within, and made a comment that made one of the other soldiers laugh. There was a rustling sound of more boxes being opened, none too gently. The stomping feet of the German in the back of the truck sounded like he was dancing around, the other solider now roaring in laughter. The Frenchman was pleading something in German.

Finally, the commotion died down, the German climbed from the truck and the doors were closed. Some words were exchanged, and the Frenchman meekly thanked the German soldiers before driving away. The disruption of the stacked boxes had been careless, and with the forward momentum, several of them collapsed painfully onto Diego, eliciting a gasp of pain.

This is the complication Pursue Illness
3d6 for damage=3,5,6. 2 damage (ignore armor). 6/14 stress.

The truck continued uninterrupted for what seemed like an eternity to Diego. Finally, it puttered to a stop, and he could hear British voices outside. The Frenchman begged for them to help with a wounded “soldier”.

The door in the rear of the truck sprang open, and two of the British infantrymen stood over Diego, peering at him suspiciously.

“Hello, gents.” He said through gritted teeth.

Mythic Conversation focus: 85, roll on Conversation spark table
Interesting + Abuse

“It looks like you’ve been through bloody hell, chap!” One of the men said, he was younger even than Diego, but he had a haunted look in his eyes that Diego found familiar.

“Yeah, had a run in with a German held bridge south of here. Blew it to shit, though!” he let out a chuckle and immediately regretted it from the spike of pain.

“Ah, saboteur, eh? Good on ya. Let’s see if we can get you to a field hospital, have a look atcha.”

Diego mumbled his thanks, and the soldiers painfully moved him from the truck and into another vehicle that sped to a tent erected on the beach of Dunkirk. Diego clasped his case to his chest protectively.

“What’s in the box, mate? The soldier asked as he drove Diego toward the medical tent.

“Top secret.” Diego replied with a grin that was half grimace. “You have a different British accent from the rest of those I’ve heard.”

The other man laughed. “I’m no Pommie! I’m Australian. You don’t have room to talk, with your Yank accent.”

“Yeah, I’m American, but working with the British Intelligence.”

The Australian lad gave him a wink. “We colonists always having to save the crown, eh?”

“Something like that,” Diego responded with a wry laugh.

WW2 Random table: Roll + Award

The drive soon came to an end, and a flurry of medical staff rushed amongst various wounded troops inside the tent.

A British doctor approached him, a small slip of paper on a clipboard. “Word around camp is you stopped some German supplies from getting here by blowing a bridge. A certified hero, we have here!”

“No hero, just trying to save some lives.”

“You just defined what a hero does, lad. I’m going to give you something for pain, and we’ll see if we can stitch up that wound. There should be a ship arriving this evening to evacuate wounded men. If no one else shows up hurt worse, you should get a spot on there and get back over to England.” He consulted his charts, and walked over to the next solider without saying else.

Diego laid in his cot, his case clutched in his hands. Back to England. It felt like a place he had not seen in ages. A rest would do him some good, clear the dark clouds of rage and depression that crowded his mind. Hopefully he could get that done without encountering any haunted dolls.

End of Scene and Season 2.

We’ll restore Diego back to full health, remove his injury, and award him 10 more XP for blowing the bridge and delivering the case of artifacts.

I’ll increase his Reason attribute to 10, which gives him an extra bonus dice for any associated rolls.

When we start season 3, we’ll be shipped out to Northa Africa and the desert war!

I’ll give Diego and Achtung Cthulhu a rest for a couple of weeks, and post some other short lived series perhaps.

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Name: Trifon Raftis

Class: Disgraced

Destiny d12=10 Joined a Crusade. Objective? Hunt down vampires that murdered family.

Abilities: 13, 7, 9, 10

Agility:+1
Presence: -1
Strength:0
Toughness:0

Blessings d2=2
HP: 6

Sanguis Sanctus (SS abbreviated. I have trouble remembering the Latin, so I call it Vampire Borg in my head), is a game built on the Mork Borg engine by Novecento Manfredi. The premise of the game is that something opened up Hellgates all over the world in 1477 that led to demonic vampire Matriarchs to flood the land. With the coming of the monsters, a gray shroud covered the land, dimming the sun in what many called Never-Ending Night.

Fantastical beasts arose, creatures and plants mutated, but humanity persevered in small pockets. Technological and alchemical advancements have been made in desperation for survival.

I’ll use the Mythic Adventure Crafter to create my first adventure. I won’t outline all of the steps involved (as that would be its own article), but will post the results at the end of each scene so as not to spoil the plot haha. That is, if it doesn’t get spoiled by the dice!

Sanguis Sanctus has its own solo rules included in the rules. It basically consists of a Y/N oracle, verb/noun spark tables, dungeon name tables, NPC tables, and random encounters. While I am a Mythic fan boy, I’ll play using the tools provided in the book. I may use some other supplements for additional spark tables.

Like my Pirate Borg game, I’ll use a variation on the Black Streams Solo Heroes rules to make my character a little more survivable. There are no Hit Dice in this game, so I’ll use a multiple of 6 to determine their HD. 1-6 is HD 1, 7-12 is HD 2, etc.

I was inspired for this playthrough by the song, Job’s Eyes, by Far.

Necropolis of Kerameikos
Year of our Lord, 1507

Trifon knelt among the bloody carnage, his wife cradled in his arms, her beautiful form silenced by the monsters who had raided this place. A place that had been promised as a sanctuary. Beside him, too painful to see, was the broken rag-doll body of his young daughter. A slight glance at his little kóri had sent him into a spiral of grieved insanity. Painful sobs racked his body as he rocked back and forth, holding his wife. The multitude of other dead around him did not escape his notice, but they did not strike home like these two bodies. These two were what he had lived for.

He should have been here. He had gone to get fabric to make a new dress for his kóri. It lay now in the blood and muck, forgotten. The stone room had been sanctified, supposedly, a haven provided by God against the darkness of the vampires. Trifon raged against the deity and his indifference. It was HE who should have been here to protect these people. It had been HIS promise.

Trifon’s mind went to the story of Job that the priests loved to espouse. How suffering in the name of God was something to be praised. His eyes alighted on one of the priests now, hammered brutally onto the wooden cross standing in a corner, drained of all of his blood. His piety and dedication had not saved him from the same plight of the dozens of others crammed into the ruins of this holy place.

Job had been a coward. To be scourged with the afflictions by the devil, but to still cling to a worthless god who did not protect him? Where is the nobility in that, the strength? Trifton would curse god and die, like the devil had recommended to Job. It was not noble, it was not strong. But he would be no sycophant to a sadistic god who cast him aside like so much rubbish.

“Why should I worship one who is weaker than I? Are too weak to do anything? Or you don’t care to do anything? Either way, you are not worthy of my worship!” he shouted to the stone ceiling above him, it too covered in the splashed blood of the numerous victims.

The vampires had not just come into the sanctuary and fed. They had delighted in the desecration and destruction.

“Even I, a simple man, would have stood up for these people and fought with all my worth. Someone with infinite strength cannot be bothered? Why? Are you a coward as well, Lord? Are you impotent? Are you ashamed because you are weak? Curse you! I hate you! I hate everything you stand for!”

As the words ripped from Trifon’s raw throat something happened within him. He could feel a tearing inside, like something ripped from his soul. He faltered and gasped. Unknown to him, the light of God no longer shone in his eyes, and his iris and pupils faded to white. For what it was worth, the pain in his heart was lessened as well. Replaced by a dark, stony hatred.

He gave a bitter laugh. So bitter. He knew he had been punished. “Ah, so you have enough strength to punish me further, a man who has lost everything. Good for you, you bastard.”

God, as he was wont to do, did not answer.

A crash of litter falling to the ground further into the room resounded, but Trifon did not care. Let them come and finish his misery.

It was not a vampire, but a man who stumbled out of the wreckage. A simple bronze goblet cradled lovingly in his hands. He was covered in scrapes and bruises but had been spared the slaughter inflicted on the room.

“You would do well to keep your curses silent, my good man.” Despite his admonitions, he spoke in a raised voice, like his hearing was very poor.

This character came from Adventure Crafter, a loud Trader. I’ll roll on the NPC tables in SS for his personality.
d10=2 Coward

Trifon turned his head slowly toward the man, holding his treasure.

”I suppose you lived by cowering in a corner, while all the rest were slaughtered?”

The man did not hesitate to answer, though he leaned in, turning his head to hear better.

“Yes, I am a coward. The beasts surged into the room, the sounds of slaughter outside entering with them. I am but a simple peddler, what could I have done? I took some of the consecrated water from the altar and drank it from this chalice. Hoping it would deter the vampires from drinking from me.”

“I guess it worked.” Trifon said with disgust.

He laid his wife down and stood to his feet. His shirt was soaked with the blood of his two loved ones.

Unable to bear it, he tore the garment from his body. Looking around, he saw the flag of Kerameikos discarded in a corner. He took it and wrapped it about himself like a cloak. As he did so, he saw a tattoo etched into the skin of his chest over his heart. It had not been there before, in the likeness of a stone wall, with wooden spikes adorning the top. He scoffed, another present from the weak God after his curse.

“Perhaps.” The man continued. He gazed at the chalice in wonderment. “I had purchased this cup from a man claiming it had been retrieved from the sepulchers below the city. I presumed he was a swindler. But…when the monsters saw this in my hands, they would not approach me. I believe it may be a holy relic of sorts.”

“Probably the Holy Grail, the cup Jesus used at the last supper. I’m sure.” Trifon mocked.

“You jest, but I would not go so far as to say it was impossible. I want to take it to Rome.”

“Well, hopefully it gave you everlasting life when you drank from it, you will need it to get all the way to Italy.”

Trifon scavenged through the wreckage, looking for anything of use. The ruins of this ancient city had begun to prosper in the last decade, despite the rise of the vampires. For whatever reason, they had been reluctant to attack. Until today that is. Now the ruins were once again filled only with death.

As he searched, it was evident some of the vampires had fallen during the fight. When killed, their corpses aged immediately to crumbling bone and leathery skin. Several of such bodies littered the area. Trifon looked at them with pride for a moment. Proud that his fellow humans had at least gone down fighting. Unlike God.

Amongst the wreckage, he found some torches, rope, rations, a waterskin, and an unsoiled bandage. He placed it in his pack that had carried the cloth earlier. He hefted a length of table leg that had been torn asunder, it would do for a club. His knife was in a sheath at his belt, but it was more for utility, not much use for killing vampires. That was what he was going to do. Kill Vampires until he too was killed.

The other man cleared his throat behind him. “I’m Tio, by the way. Tio Simonson.”

Trifon grunted in response. The man’s devotion to a supposed holy relic grated on him, but there was no reason to be cruel. “Trifon Raftis.”

“Ah, Trifon. I’m sorry we had to meet in these circumstances. Would you be willing to accompany me to the docks? I had a small ship there that could take us to Italy, if you wanted to join in my crusade to deliver this grail to his Holiness.”

Trifon looked at him flatly. He wanted to die, not go on an adventure.

Another voice boomed from the entryway to the shrine. “His Holiness, bah.”

SS Oracle, what Vampire order does this new vampire belong? D5=2 Defunctio
Undead: Dead Anointed (lowest class of vampire) can be resurrected as skeletons or ghouls by a Hearld or Archon.

SS Oracle, is this an Annointed d20=19 Yes?

Vampire Anointed. Humans that have just been turned into vampires. Used as cannon fodder unless it survives long enough to become Exalted.

2 HD
Leather armor: d2
Sword: 1d6 (it says 1d4 in the rules for Anointed, though sword is listed as 1d6. Maybe a typo?)
Morale: 7

“I thought I heard cattle mooing in here.” The vampire smirked, long fangs protruding from a blood-stained mouth. The sword clutched in his fist was covered in congealed blood.

Trifon was much taller than the monster, but it had been a man of hard work prior to being turned. He was thick with muscle, twice as wide as Trifon.

“Come and feed from me then, bloodsucker, and end my misery!” Trifon’s face was red with fury.

“Gladly.”

Tio stood between Trifon and the vampire, who glared at him with something akin to fear. He smoothly glided around the peddler, heading for Trifon. The stocky vampire flourished his blood covered blade in an attempt to frighten Trifon, it didn’t work.

Initiative d6=1 Enemies go first

Vampire move forward and attack. Defend Agi d20+1=10 vs 12 fail.
Damage 1d6=6. -2 HP. Trifon 4/6

Trifon attack. Melee Str d20=2 vs 12 Miss.

Tio Move to hide.

As the vampire moved past Tio, the man ran to the back of the room, searching for a hiding place among the tumbled furniture.

“Come and slay me!” Trifon snarled again.

The vampire grinned, and slid forward, his sword flashing like the strike of a snake. The tip of the blade slid across Trifon’s face, opening a cut below his eye. Had that been just an inch higher…

Trifon clumsily tried to smash his improvised club into the monster, but the vampire easily swatted the strike away with his sword.

Initiative d6=4 Character goes first

Tio, continue to hide

Trifon attack. D20=11 vs 12 Miss

Vampire attack. D20+1=18 Defend!

Trifon growled and rushed forward, towering over the former human. He raised his club in an overhand strike, and the vampire dodged backward to avoid the heavy blow. Luckily, that meant he was out of striking distance of Trifon.

Init = 1 Enemies

Vamp attack. D20+1=13 Defend

Trifon attack. D20=9 Miss

SS Oracle, does Tio come to help? 20 Extreme Yes!

Tio splash holy water onto Vampire d20=11 miss.

Trifon and the vampire both traded blows, each unable to score a hit against the other. Tio snuck up behind the unsuspecting monster and tried to splash holy water on it from the relic chalice, but the water fell short. The vampire snarled at him and turned so he could face both humans.

Init = 2 Enemies

Vamp attack d20+1= 12 Defend

Trifon attack. D20=15 Hit! 1d4=4 -1 Armor d2=1, total 3. -1 HD. 1 Left

Tio attack throw furniture. D20-1=15 Hit. 1d2=1 No damage

Morale save 2d6=9 vs 7 Demoralized.
Action d6=4 Enemy Surrenders.

Trifon feigned a strike, to which the vampire went to parry. Tio had a broken pail in his hands, and flung it at the monster. It crashed against his side, doing no harm, but distracting him enough so that Trifon’s club could connect with the vampire’s head. He dropped his blade and stumbled backward, dazed from the strike.

“Please, I was once human, just like you! I cannot help that I was turned! Perhaps there is a way to redeem me still!”

Disgusted by the vampire’s pleading, he scooped up the dropped sword. He was not a trained fighter, but it was sharp. The vampire’s back hit the wall behind him, and he had nowhere else to run. Trifon advanced, sword upraised and gave a shout of rage as he swung the sword at the helpless vampire.

Free hit. 1d6=2 – armor 1=1 No damage

The sword blade was turned aside by the cured leather breastplate, and the vampire knocked Trifon backward and ran from the room.

Trifon screamed in rage and began to pursue, but Tio stepped in front of him, his hands raised.

“We should leave as soon as possible. No doubt he will return with some of his fellows.” He bent down and picked up the discarded table leg club.

Blood ran down Trifon’s face, creating a mask of red. He wanted nothing more than to kill vampires and perhaps die doing so. It would give him blessed vengeance and perhaps relief. But he did not want this Tio to die as well. Despite his cowardice, he had tried to help Trifon against the deadly foe.

He looked to where his wife and child lay dead, he would have liked to bury them, but there was no time. Tio was right, the vampire would return soon. Finally, he nodded, wiping the sword blade on his discarded shirt. Gathering his backpack, he turned to Tio.

“You are right, let us leave this place.”

End of Scene.

I’m going to be generous with my level ups, as this will likely be a short “campaign.”

Disgraced HP d10=10! Max HP 16. 4/16 Current

Test Str increase d6=1. Increase to +1. This method is very generous and will likely get our skills up quickly. Which is probably why it limits you to a single ability test per level up.

Weapon Damage d6=3 No increase. On a 5-6 the weapon gets +1 Damage. Maybe due to familiarity with using it I guess?

Next session, we will move through the ruined city, to try to make it to Tio’s ship at the docks.

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Art from Dolmenwood Player’s Book

In the last episode, the two squires rescued the youth, Arda, from the clutches of the crookhorns, who had mysteriously taken up lodging in the ruins of Droomen Knoll. It was unusual for them to be spotted this far south in Dolmenwood. The group decided to sleep for the night, and proceed to Arda’s home of Dreg, a nearby river port village.

Chaos factor 6

Expected scene: Attend Shantywood reunion celebration

Test the Scene: 4. Interrupt Scene
Random Event: PC Negative
Plot Twist tables: Social + Helpless

Day: Hayme, 10^th of Braghold.
Weather: Clear, chilly

Chateau Shantywood

Alfred could not help but gape in awe as they entered Chateau Shantywood. Arda, crowded by several of the women sailors, was greeted by everyone they met. A lengthy tearful hello, followed by hugs and kisses. Alfred noted that everyone in the employ of Shantywood was women. Everyone. The sailors, the guards, the servants. The only men he saw as they entered the common room of the manse were customers, ogling the staff and gambling at a sea of tables.

They swept quickly through the entry area and ascended a private stairway that led to Madame Chandilore Shantywood’s quarters. As they entered the sitting room of her suite, she stood holding a hand-held mirror, to which she was whispering. A faint look of irritation at them entering without knocking melted away as she saw Arda burst from the now crowded hallway of women. He ran to his mother, both of them tearful at his return.

Alfred and Hogrid were in the hallway, unable to enter due to the press of women. And they were all scantily clad. In the warmth of the manor, they lacked even the shawls of the sailors from before. As their perfumed, almost naked bodies pressed against him from all around, Alfred began to feel heat rising in his cheeks. A quick glance at Hogrid showed he was enjoying it immensely.

“Bring the young rescuers forth!” the refined voice of the Madame called out.

Hands grabbed and maneuvered the two squires between the press of bodies, and they both stood in front of Madame Shantywood. She was bewitchingly beautiful, in her late middle years. Her raven locks were stark against her bright green eyes. She had a corset overlaying layers of petticoats and she moved with grace and confidence that accentuated her nobility, though her demesne was this simple isle, and she lacked an official title by the Duke.

Alfred felt woefully out of place, with his dirty clothes and dented armor.

Hogrid stepped forward and gave a haughty bow. “Madame Shantywood, I am Hogrid Pollard, son of Jollie Ostice Pollard, Lumbermaster of Lady Mulbrek.”

Her eyes glinted with amusement. She knew of Jollie Ostice Pollard, and the rumors of his descent into addled drug use. “Welcome Hogrid.” She turned her gaze to Alfred.

Alfred tried to mimic Hogrid’s bow, but stumbled a bit as the weight of his armor put him off balance. His face was red as he righted himself, half expecting everyone to be laughing at him. Hogrid was smirking, but everyone else had polite smiles.

He loudly cleared the lump from his throat. “I’m Alfred Burl. Squire from the Woodcutter’s Encampment.”

“Welcome, Alfred.” She gave him a small smile, then directed them to sit. A couple of the servants brought in wooden stools, so that the dirty squires would not soil the nice furniture. Arda stood behind his mother, and she glided over to a large overstuffed chair.

She placed her hand mirror on a table beside her.

Mythic, does Alfred catch a glimpse of the shadowy castle reflected in the mirror? 68, No.

“I wish to thank you both for your rescue of my young Arda. As promised, I will reward you with 200 gold pieces. In addition, you can stay here and partake of our lodging, games, and meals for as long as you need to recover from your journeys. I lost Arda’s sister, Timin, to a horrible accident a few years ago. If I had lost Arda too…” she trailed off and a single tear began to trickle down her powered cheek. A nearby servant quickly dabbed it away with a kerchief.

She composed herself and continued. “We will have a grand celebration tomorrow night for Arda’s return. Alfred and Hogrid shall be our guests of honor. Ladies, please make up a couple of rooms for these young men. And draw them all a nice hot bath.” She patted Arda’s filthy arm beside her. One of the women wiped her soiled hand with a different napkin.

The servants burst into action, herding the two squires from the room and down a maze of hallways in which Alfred quickly lost his sense of direction. Eventually, he stood in a guest room, nicer than anything he had ever seen. Hogrid was just down the hall in a similar room. The plump servant, also scantily clad, was leaving and poked her head back into the room.

“You can remove all your gear and those filthy clothes. There’s a robe you can wear in the wardrobe for the bath. We’ll have something for you to wear in the meantime on your return.” She gave him a glance up and down then winked. She was old enough to be his mother!

Though he was alone, he blushed as he peeled off his armor and clothes. It had been a hard few days, and he looked forward to a nice long soak in a bath. A knock came at his door, and he was led, robe clad, down another hallway to a large bathroom filled with copper tubs. He was mortified to find many of them were already filled with both men and women, and one by Grewigg! She noted his entrance and waved enthusiastically for him to join her in the tub.

He walked over hesitantly, already cognizant of his stirring lust.

“Alfred! Isn’t it exciting about the celebration! Get in here and I’ll scrub your back. This water is piping hot and will relax those sore muscles from your adventure. I want to hear all about it!”

“Uh, I’m awfully filthy, I don’t want to soil your bathwater.” He could feel his ears and cheeks hot with embarrassment.

Mythic Conversation focus: 100 Roll on Conversation table: Lie + Loud

Grewigg must have taken his embarrassment for something else, for a hurt look came over her face, quickly replaced by a flash of anger. She raised her voice.

“Alfred, I am surprised you are so prejudiced against breggles! Go get your own tub then, if you are too good to share my water!” And she gave a splash of the hot water toward him. A few of the other bathers gasped and others chuckled drunkenly.

Alfred dodge the water Dex save d6=4 Save.

He deftly sidestepped the water; it only sprinkled on his slippered feet. Just as he did so, Hogrid walked up beside him. He was opening his mouth to explain himself, when he was interrupted by the other man.

“What’s going on here?” he asked as he shed his robe and placed it on a nearby hook. His thick, muscular body was covered in black hair. He apparently felt no shame at his evident arousal. Without waiting for an answer, he eased into the water with Grewigg, with a pleased sigh at the hot water.

Alfred watched in horror as Grewigg slid over closer to Hogrid and placed an arm around him in the tub.

“Alfred was too good to share a breggle’s water. I’m glad to see you are more sensible.” Her eyes shot daggers at Aflred.

Alfred Wisdom check to notice she would have preferred his company over Hogrid. D6-1=3 Fail.

Hurt at this confusing misunderstanding and Grewigg’s apparent attraction to Hogrid, Alfred shuffled off to one of the tubs away from the other patrons. He rid himself of his robe and practically leaped into the water with a splash. He was a more lean, muscular lad, as opposed to Hogrid’s large, muscled frame. Several of the other guests chuckled again at his actions.

A servant scurried over, wiping up the spill with a towel and tsking at Alfred. “No need to make a mess, lad. Do you require scrubbing? I’m happy to oblige.”

She handed over a soap that smelled like lavender, her long auburn hair was tied up in an elaborate bun on her head to keep it out of the water. She was probably in her thirties, and like all the other women, quite lovely. It seemed like a pre-requisite for them to attend here.

“Uh, no thank you.” He stammered. He busied himself with the scrub brush and soap, scraping away the grime of the last few days. She winked at him, then hurried off to help other guests.

Alfred pointedly ignored the giggles coming from Grewigg and Hogrid’s tub and turned so that he faced away from them. He quickly cleaned himself, then laid his head back on the edge of the tub, to allow the heat to remove his stress. Despite his annoyance at his travel companion, he soon fell asleep.

Auburn-Hair woke him with a tap a little while later. The water in the tub was now only luke-warm. The other guests had left, replaced with new bathers. There was no sign of Hogrid or Grewigg. She held out his robe as he stepped out of the tub, noting his shyness, she turned her head as he did so. This small act of kindness touched him and helped ease the sting from his interaction with Grewigg.

“What’s your name?” he asked as he wrapped himself.

“Enya,” she replied with a smile.

“Enya, would you join me for a dance tomorrow night during the celebration?” He felt proud of himself for asking despite his shyness.

Alfred Charisma check d6+1=7. Yes.
Enya motivations and desires: Infamy, Leader, Escape. She suspects someone in the court of Lord Malbleat, the ruler of the domain containing Dreg, has kidnapped her niece Emelda. She wants help rescuing her.

Knowing Alfred helped Arda, she purposefully sought him out.

She smiled at him kindly, a twinkle of hope in her eyes. “I would love to, Alfred. I look forward to hearing about how you rescued Arda.”

He smiled back, eager to dance with this lovely woman, but also to hopefully make Hogrid and Grewigg jealous.

End of Scene

Chaos factor 5

Since this was an interrupt scene, we will continue with the celebration next scene. We will also get the hook for our next quest, and play out the premade adventure, Emelda’s Song, in the next few sessions.

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In the last episode, Naveel rode the Spirit Train of the Wandering Line from Yatamon to Matango Village. En Route, there was a pushy salesman Salazar Sales who would not take no for an answer trying to push a low-key magical item onto Naveel. He left in anger, and the train soon stopped outside the village. After exiting, Naveel encountered a wild Boar that charged at him. It caused a little additional harm to his already wounded leg before Naveel could encapsulate it into a bubble using the Bubble Lift spell.

Chaos Factor 6

Expected Scene: Investigate disappearances

Test the scene d10=3 Altered Scene

Scene alteration table d10=10 Make 2 adjustments
1 Remove a Character
1 Remove a Character

Well, this is interesting. There are some named NPCs listed in Obojima for Matango Village. I’ll throw them onto a table and see which two come off the list. Perhaps they are missing or who knows?! We’ll let Mythic decide what to do from that point on.

1 Reheni: Current Truffle Prince(cess)
2 Myron the Lichen Sage: village Druid who protects the magic of the village
3 Chogo: The leader of the Matsutake clan
4 Marvolio Chantrerelle: The leader of the Chantrerelle clan
5 Mama Amala: The leader of the Reishi clan
6 Madame Porcini: The leader of the Porcini clan

2d6=1,2 Reheni and Myron.

Mythic City Descriptors: Ruined + Travel

Naveel limped toward Matango Village, eager to find a bed and rest the remainder of the night…and maybe the next morning as well. He was exhausted and in pain from his various injuries during his chase and run-in with the boar. As he neared the village, he could see the magnificent mushroom houses the inhabitants had carved out for themselves. All of the buildings of the village were constructed so, only extensions on the buildings were made with wood or stone. The base for each was a large mushroom of various varieties. As he passed into the village proper, he noticed an unusually large amount of windows were lit for this time of night. He limped down the stone street, hoping to find an inn when two large men armed with spears hustled toward him. He stopped immediately to show he was no threat.

“Halt, who goes there?” one of the men shouted as he rushed up. They were both wearing what looked to be a broad brimmed hat, but was in fact the cap of a red mushroom.

“Good night, I am Naveel Onker, I have travelled far from Yatamon and am seeking a place to spend the remainder of the night,” the young witch called back.

“You have timed your visit poorly, young Naveel. We are all on high alert here in Matango Village. Our village druid, Myron the Licen Sage and our reigning Truffle Prince, Ms Reheni, have both gone missing today. The old man, Myron was grumbling that the elder spirit, Roghora, was angry and needed appeasement. Then, both he and the young miss both turned up missing later that day. We are worried sick!”

“Oh, that’s awful! I was coming here for the Truffle Hunt and hoped to spend some time acquainting myself to your village.”

“Truffle Hunt indeed! If we cannot find the reigning Truffle Prince with her crown and scepter, there won’t be a Truffle Hunt!”

“I’m so sorry the village is facing such dire news! Perhaps come morning I can join in the search and assist you? In the meantime, I really do need to get some rest…” Naveel was genuinely compassionate to their plight, but at the same time, he was hurt and exhausted.

“Oh, of course, of course young man. Proceed down this main road and there will be an inn in the town square. Mossbridge Inn is the name, a large sign bearing a bridge with hanging moss, you won’t be able to miss it.”

Ironsmith Expanded oracles settlement name for the inn: Moss + Bridge

Mythic domicile descriptors: Aromatic, Large

Naveel bowed in thanks and hobbled down the road until he reached said inn. It was probably the largest building in the village square, it’s mushroom center flanked by built on additions in all four directions. He entered the common room and the door rang a tinkling bell. As the door opened, he was hit with the lovely smell of fresh baking bread. A heavyset woman of elder years walked from what must the kitchen, wiping flour off her hands onto an otherwise spotless white apron.

“My goodness, a visitor this early in the morning. Come on in dear.” She spied how travel worn Naveel looked. “My goodness, sit down, lad, before you fall down.” She fluttered over to him, fussing over helping him to remove his pack and find a resting place for his staff next to the wooden bench he plopped down upon.

“Early?” Naveel questioned wearily.

“Aye, it is only a couple hours before sunrise. Have you been traveling all night? You look a fright!”

“I took the Spirit Train here from Yatamon, but yes, I’ve had quite a day. A boar attacked me just outside the village.”

“Oh dear!” And she made a sign with her hands that Naveel assumed was a ward against evil spirits. “Dark days indeed if the wild boars are attacking people. Roghora must indeed be angry with us!”

“Why would he be displeased with the village?” Naveel asked as she brought him a cup of mulled mushroom wine. It had a dark, earthy smell, but was quite delicious, and soothed him greatly.

“I don’t rightly know, dear. The village druid was going on about it, and now he and the young Truffle Prince have both disappeared.” She wiped a tear from her eye.

DC 2d6+6=11
Cha d20+3 to get a room discount=6 fail.

“Yes, terrible times indeed. Perhaps in the morning I can assist the village by helping in the search? In the meantime, I could really use a room…” Naveel said with an earnest smile.

The woman glanced at him sideways, her brows lowered slightly, as if she thought he was being flippant. She sighed, “Of course, dear. You remind me so much of my grandson, always wanting to help, but being too tired. Rooms are 5 Sea Petals (equivalent of silver coins) per day, meals included.”

Naveel dug into his coin pouch and produced a Gold Flower. It would get him two days in the inn. It was a quarter of his current wealth, so he would definitely need to earn some coin if he was going to stay here for two weeks before the Truffle Hunt. If there WAS a Truffle Hunt.

The coin disappeared into the meaty palm of the elderly innkeeper, and she showed him to his room. It was very cozy and well furnished. Naveel washed himself briefly in the wash basin and laid down in the comfortable bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the feathered pillow.

Long Rest: Regain 8/8 HP, and reset 1 HD.
Bubble Lift spell Prepared Again
I’ll be using the Mythic Mystery Matrix to investigate the disappearance of the two villagers.

Naveel woke late the next morning and spent some time studying his spellbook. He then proceeded to the common room to eat some breakfast, though they were about to start serving lunch, he had slept so late. After the innkeeper brought him his meal, he began to question her more about anything she might know concerning the disappearance of the two villagers.

I added a Clue and a Suspect to start. Myron the Lichen Sage as a suspect.
Clue is that he was complaining the spirits are displeased. Perhaps he took the Truffle Prince out for a sacrifice or something. That’s 2 Progress Points (PP) already.

DC 2d6+6=13
Naveel Investigation d20+6= Nat 20!

I’m going to interpret that as an automatic yes to a Discovery check!

Mystery Element Clues1d10+2 PP=5 New Clue

Clue table: Modern + Amusing

Mythic, was Reheni poking fun at someone using First Age relics? 92 No.
Ok, then there is a vending machine in town that Reheni frequently restocked with potion ingredients. It was well known that she loved hunting for items to load into it.

After speaking with the innkeeper, Mrs. Padma, Naveel learned there was a First Age vending machine that Reheni, or rather the reigning Truffle Prince, had the responsibility of restocking. In turn, they could then gather the proceeds from the sales of that machine. That sounded like another place to look for clues to Naveel. He thanked Mrs. Padma and headed out for where the vending machine was located in the village square.

When he arrived at the machine, it was darkened and no longer functioning. A large sculpture of a pig sat atop the machine, a testament to the village’s worship of the pig spirit. Inside the darkened glass, he could see a variety of magically suspended ingredients for potions. Naveel decided to look around for hints of perhaps foul play or something else that might direct him to further his investigation.

DC 2d6+6=12
Investigation d20+6=10 Fail

Try as he might, Naveel could not find anything around the machine that might lead to Reheni’s or Myron’s whereabouts. He used his cantrip, Jolt, to repower the machine, at least for a little while. There was no use in it sitting here useless. He saw a guard sauntering through the square and asked if he could be shown to Myron’s house to look for clues there.

Mythic, will the guard show him the way to the house? 57 vs 65, yes.

Domicile: Drab + Odd

Like the other houses in the village, Myron’s home was built from a mushroom. However, unlike the others, his house was draped with lichen over the large fungus. Naveel guessed that was how he had earned the name the Lichen Sage. The guard escorted him inside the opened door, and stood watch while he poked around inside.

DC =15
Investigate d20+6=21 Success!

Is it a clue? 61 vs 65 Yes.

Mystery Element Clues 1d10+3=10 Link Clue to Suspect or New Clue
31 on mystery matrix, new clue
Clue: Mysterious + Vehicle
Mythic, is it a glider? 50 vs 65 Yes.

As Naveel searched through the sage’s belongings, he came across a journal. Inside he noted that the old druid had taken note of a mysterious figure using a hang glider over the forests surrounding Matango Village. He had seen them several times over the course of the last few days. Hmmm, Mount Arbora was near enough that someone could launch from its cliff faces and glide out over the forests of Matango Village. While that in itself was probably not a threat, it was strange that the sightings coincided with the disappearances.

Having found something interesting, Naveel shared the news with the guard and asked if there were any witnesses he should speak with concerning the investigation.

Starsmith Expanded Oracles NPC conversation: Positive News about the road or passage to the next location.

So that sounds like someone on the road out of the village might have seen something.
Character roll: d6=4 Marvolio Chantrerelle

Naveel learned from the guard that Marvolio was always seeking to collaborate with the current festival winners, and Rehini had been no different. He had seen Reheni earlier in the day and mentioned he had spoken with her about the upcoming festivities. While this in itself was not suspicious, Naveel wanted to speak with him since he might be the last person to have spoken with Reheni before she disappeared.

Add Marvolio as a supect.

Conversation Topics: Praise + Reassuring

Naveel found the leader of the Chantrelle clan of farmers speaking with some of the villagers about the disappearance. He was fabulously dressed in bright red clothing and topped with a fancy red mushroom capped hat.

Naveel introduced himself and mentioned he was aiding in the search for the missing villagers.

“My word, what a good lad! A stranger to our village, yet helping to solve our problems! Indeed, cheerio to you, lad!” He removed his hat and gave a flourishing bow.

If anything, Naveel was put off by the showmanship, and suspected the man further. “The guards mentioned you had a discussion with Reheni prior to her going missing? What did you talk about?”

Marvolio told of their discussion, bouncing around topics that they had covered.

DC=11
Insight if he is lying d20+5=23 Success
Mythic is he lying, likely? 21 vs 75 Yes.

Roll on Mystery Elements Suspect: 8 New Linked Suspect

I’ll add 2 new clues, that Marvolio was the last to see Reheni and that he is not telling the truth about what they discussed. I’ll link them both to Marvolio.

Naveel was not sure what Marvolio had discussed with Reheni, but he felt like the man was lying about it for some reason. Add that to the fact he was the last to see Reheni, and things looked very suspicious for Marvolio. The young witch decided to go with the guard to search through Reheni’s home, hoping to find more information there.

Domicile: Common + Modern

Inside Reheni’s modest home, she had a camera on her desk that was a First Age artifact. Naveel decided to search the premises for further clues.

DC = 14
Investigate =19 Success

Mystery Elements Clue: 9 Link Clue to Suspect or New Clue
Mystery Matrix Clues: 89 New Clue
Clue: Creepy Twice!

Next to the camera were two photographs of a shadowy figure peering out from the shadows of the forest. He could not make out who it was, but it was definitely a humanoid looking at Reheni as she took the picture in two different instances. Naveel wondered if it was perhaps Marvolio watching Reheni secretly?

Mythic, is it pictures of Marvolio? 66 vs 65 No. Random Event
Roll on Mystery Event Focus Table: Clue Element
Mystery element Clue: 14 Clincher Clue. Marvolio has the most linked clues, so I will assume the photographs have something to do with the Chantrelle clan.

Naveel peered closer at the images in the photographs and could just barely make out the Chantrelle clan emblem on the darkened chest of the figure. While he did not think it was Marvolio himself, it was definitely someone in his clan. Satisfied he had a solid lead, he decided to go back to the guards and tell them what he had found. He believed someone in the Chantrelle clan in collusion with Marvolio was behind Reheni’s disappearance. He was not sure how Myron was involved as well, but perhaps they would find out when they searched the Chantrelle leader’s home.

End of Scene

Chaos factor test 7. Increase to CF 7

Open Thread: Confront Marvolio Chantrelle about Reheni’s disappearance.

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Bold text: mechanics
Italics text: Out of character explanation
Plain text: Roleplaying

Materials used: Achtung! Cthulhu Core, A!C Vive la Resistance, A!C Secret War Documents, Mythic GME 2e, A!C Operation Ultimatum, My personal WW2 Random Table, Astonishing Random Tables

In the last session, Diego and Leonard took a detour to check on the whereabouts of a missing professor of Section M, and the artifacts he carried. They discovered the Germans had attacked them, in conjunction with some Mi-Go who had taken up residence in some nearby ruins. They were using the Blue Crystal technology pilfered from the professor’s stash to activate some unknown process. Diego and Leonard stopped them, though it cost Leonard his life. Now Diego is on their motorbike, speeding to Dunkirk to be rescued from the continent with the remainder of the British Expeditionary Forces.

Chaos Factor 7

Expected Scene: Link up with BEF at Dunkirk for evac

Test the Scene: 5 Altered Scene

Scene Adjustment: 9 Make two adjustments
3 Reduce/Remove an Activity
4 Increase an Activity

LOL

Action + WW2 table: Destroy + Food
Action + WW2 table: Invade + Oxygen

Ok, for increase activity this is what the tables spurred for me. I think Diego is going to note the Panzer division sieging Dunkirk is not making the final push that would destroy the British, due to lack of fuel and supplies for their vehicles. He noted a supply convoy enroute while heading toward Dunkirk. (Destroy Food)

For decrease activity, he noticed the Luftwaffe has been surprisingly silent as well, likely for the same reasons (Invade Oxygen is low supplies for airstrikes).

Diego huddled in the thick undergrowth of a hedgerow, almost impenetrable, but he had found a place to worm his way inside. A small beetle crawled along his hand, and he casually shook it off as he brought his binoculars to his face. Dunkirk was only a few more miles away, the siege of German Panzers surrounding it having stopped nearby. Curious as to why the Germans did not finish the job against the weakened, routing British forces, he had been watching the enemy for some time. All indications were that the division as a whole had outrun their supply and were now awaiting the Wehrmacht and logistics to catch up with them. News about how quickly they had outflanked the defensive line into France had rattled the Allies. Now it made sense, they had not bothered with their logistics. It had worked for the most part, the Allies were fleeing in disarray, France had mostly fallen, victory was in their grasp. Except for this huge pocket of British resistance that was being slowly ferried away while the Germans waited on fuel and ammo.

Stupid fascists, Diego grinned. He should have no trouble sneaking through this loose perimeter to get to Dunkirk, the Germans weren’t really worried about keeping people out as much as keeping the British in. He had noted regular civilian traffic continued through checkpoints. Thanks to the documents Leonard had provided, he should be able to pass through fine. He had packed the two artifacts under a few bags of flour in the sidecar, as long as the guards did not get too curious.

But first, he had to do his part in stopping the German advance. He had traveled back down the road to a critical bridge where the supply convoy would be reaching today. He had slept nearby in a secluded grove and felt refreshed and ready for some sabotage. The thought of explosives recalled Leonard in his last moments.

“Do it!” he had growled, the monster on top of him.

Diego shook his head. There had been no choice. That was his new mantra. No choice. He had to. He pushed the dark thoughts from his mind and rechecked his demolitions gear. He had enough charges to blow this simple bridge. It wouldn’t stop the Germans, the bridge crossed a shallow river, and it would be easily rebuilt in the matter of a day or two by determined engineers. But it would slow the flow of supply, and that was what the British needed. More time.

It was still early morning, and the Germans had a small garrison in this village around the bridge, likely only to protect the bridge. Ten regular infantry was all he had counted. Ten boys really. He barked a laugh under his breath, they were only a year or two his junior. How his adventures had aged him. But he wasn’t here for them. He was here for the bridge. The young men from the garrison were likely still asleep, only one pacing around the end of the bridge furthest from Diego.

Mythic, is there a lot of people around at this early hour, very unlikely? 45 vs 50 yes.

Despite the early hour, he could see French villagers already starting their day. He had already counted over a dozen vehicles crossing the bridge, and dozens of people. This would make things more complicated for sure. He could not blow the bridge at night, he would not be able to see well enough. He had to set the charges now and be ready to blow it when the convoy arrived, hopefully while the first trucks were on the bridge itself. He noticed a young boy walking down to the river, fishing pole in hand. It gave him an idea.

Extricating himself from the brush, he dusted himself off and sauntered down the road toward the bridge. As he neared the far edge, he turned down the embankment and approached the lad, who was just casting his first toss.

“Bonjour,” Diego said in very clumsy French.

The boy looked up at him warily while he held his fishing pole. “Bonjour,” he returned, looking between this strange man and his cast pole.

“Can I borrow your fishing pole for the day? I will give you this chocolate bar.” Diego stumbled through the phrases in broken French, interspersed with English words.

The boy looked confused, but eventually realized Diego was offering him candy in return for use of the fishing pole.

Diego Will + Persuation= 10 D1
2d20=2,3. 2 Successes. +1 Momentum (1)

The boy reluctantly made the trade, and ran down the riverbank with his new prize. The pole was simple, but it gave Diego a great distraction. He cast the line a few times, each cast edged him closer to the bridge. Finally, he was in position, and his last cast snagged the line into the bridge struts.

He mimicked frustration and placed the pole on the ground. He then began to wade out into the river, careful to keep his pack above the water line.

German trooper notice Diego TN=7 D2
2d20=5,12 Fail

The water was cold and though it was only waist deep at this portion of the river, it was swift. The guard at the end of the bridge either did not notice him approaching the supports or was fooled by his ruse. Either way, he made it to the bridge support and climbed out of the water upon it. Careful to keep the structure between him and the opposite shore, he began to plant his explosives.

Diego Coordination + Engineering=13 D1
Free 1d20 from demo kit (1 left)
3d20=7,10,19. 2 Successes. +1 Momentum (2)

The charge was soon set, and he waded back across the river. He had no remote detonators, so he had to trail a thin wire back to the bank with him. He hoped it would be mistaken for fishing line.

Mythic, is there a boulder nearby he can shelter behind?19 Yes.

He found a large outcropping of stone thrusting from the bank, several yards away from the bridge. His line was almost invisible in the water. He nestled himself behind the stone, fishing pole in hand, and waited.

A few hours passed, no luck fishing in the river. But he did catch his preferred prize, the fuel convoy had arrived in the village. The garrison guards busily cleared the bridge of all civilian traffic, keeping the road clear for the multitude of trucks that needed to cross over. The convoy was preceded by a few armored cars and mobile anti-aircraft weapons. He let those vehicles rumble over his trap. The first two fuel trucks puttered across the bridge next, their tanks full of sloshing fuel for the awaiting panzers. The wheels of the first truck was almost to his side of the bridge and he pressed the detonator.

A monstrous roar followed, the bridge collapsing under the weight of the vehicles and the damaged support. Diego hunkered behind the rock, spared from the impact of the blast. The fuel trucks erupted into massive fireballs that he could feel the heat from, even at this distance. The Germans on the other side of the bridged buzzed about like a kicked hornet nest. One of them spotted him scrambling up the opposite bank and began to fire crazily.

Trooper attack TN=10 D1
2d20=4,10. 2 Successes
5d6=3,3,4,6,6. 4-2 armor=2 damage. 12/14 stress.

Diego could feel the dirt scatter against his legs as the shots landed around him. He soon had crossed the bank successfully and sprinted for his hidden motorcycle. The escort vehicles had come to a stop. One of the Sd. Kfz. 251’s began to try to turn itself to bring the mounted MG42 to bear on his position.

image from wikipedia

Diego Agility + Athletics= 12 D1
Buy 1d20 (1)
3d20=8,8,19. 2 Successes, +1 Momentum (2)

The half-tracked armored vehicle got into position and the MG42 began to burp out fire, but Diego had already passed behind the significant cover of the hedgerow. He mounted the motorcycle and zoomed down the road, on the way to Dunkirk.

I’m going to do another chase scene here, using the Open Wilds in Vehicle table in the Astonishing Random Tables book. They are geared toward medieval fantasy, but I can easily adapt them to this game. Since the motorcycle is twice as fast as the halftrack, I’ll only need a progress bar of 5 marks to escape.

Round 1
Progress 0/5
1d20=19 No Complication. 1/5 Progress

Diego revved the engine of the motorcycle and sped past the cursing fascists. They fired ineffectually at him as he flew past their position. They scrambled to reorient the lead halftrack and give chase.

Round 2
1d20=5 A large branch gets stuck in one of the wheels. Make a check to remove it. I’ll modify this to a Vehicle check to avoid branches intruding on the road.

Diego Coordination + Vehicle=11 D1
2d20=5,16. 1 Success. 2/5 Progress

As he zoomed down the road, several of the hedgerows had grown intrusively onto the narrow path. He swerved the motorcycle to avoid the branches, only the smallest twigs slapped against his arms and face. Behind him, he could hear the half-track smash through them unconcerned. But he was pulling away from them.

Round 3
1d20=13 No complications. 3/5 Progress

The road was clear ahead, and Diego leaned forward on the bike, giving it as much throttle as possible. A glance behind him showed the half-tracked trailing in his dust.

Round 4
1d20=5 Another branch haha. I’ll roll a d6 to decide on a new entry, high will change the roll to 6, low will change the rol to 4.

d6=6 High.
6 Bandits in the hills take aim at you…
I’ll modify this to mean the Germans fire their guns from behind. They are far away, so it will be a difficult shot, but we’ll give them a chance.

MG42 attack on Diego TN=11 D2
2d20=4,5. Oh no! 2 Successes
6d6=2,2,4,5,5,6. 7-2=5 damage. 7/14. 1 injury from 5 damage. 3/5 Progress

Diego felt the burn of machine gun fire grazing past him and the motorcycle before he heard the distinctive chatter of it from behind. Several rounds scored across his body, and he knew at least one of the wounds was severe enough to need medical attention as soon as possible.

Round 5
1d20=3 You hit a deep divot at full speed. Make a Dex save or be thrown from the vehicle.

Diego Coordination+Athletics to hold on after the bump TN=14 D1
Buy 1d20(1)
3d20=11,14,15. 2 Successes, +1 Momentum (2). Progress 4/5

The bike’s wheel slammed into to a rut in the dirt road, jarring Diego’s teeth and rattling his wounded body. Despite this, he was able to hold on to the handlebars, and keep the bike proceeding down the road at high speed.

Round 6
1d20=20! No complications. Progress 5/5

Another hasty glance behind him showed the half-track had been unable to keep pace and had stopped the chase. He smiled despite the pain in his side, gave the motorcycle a little extra gas, and left a cloud of dust behind him on the way to Dunkirk.

End of Scene

Chaos factor increase to 8

Next scene, Diego will need to sneak past the siege of the city, having been wounded will make that more difficult to pass as an innocent civilian. We’ll see how Diego handles that next time!

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In the last episode, the two squires rescued the youth, Arda, from the clutches of the crookhorns, who had mysteriously taken up lodging in the ruins of Droomen Knoll. It was unusual for them to be spotted this far south in Dolmenwood. The group decided to sleep for the night, and proceed to Arda’s home of Dreg, a nearby river port village.

Chaos factor 7

Expected scene: Return Arda to Dreg

Test the Scene: 10 Expected Scene

Day: Hayme, 10^th of Braghold.
Weather: Clear, chilly

The boys awoke the next morning, riding their horses along the Lower Hameth River, back into the Woodcutter’s Camp. From there, they hired a river barge to take them downriver to the Arda’s home village of Dreg. It cost them 2 sp for each of them, along with 5sp for the two squire’s horses.

Mythic, does Arda have his own 2sp to pay? 21 Yes.

Hogrid 93 sp left
Alfred 105 sp left

As they drifted down the seven mile stretch of the river, Alfred approached Hogrid, soothing his wild-eyed charger, Asoph, who apparently was not a fan of boat rides.

“It’s the 10^th of Braghold today. Do you think we’ll be able to make our oaths to Lady Mulbrek in time for Dolmenwood Day on the 30^th?”

“Dolmenwood Day? You think you are going to the knight’s tourney in Castle Brakenwold?” Hogrid scoffed.

“Sure, why not?”

“Why not? Even if you take your oaths, who will sponsor you in the tournament?” Hogrid shook his head in disbelief at the destitute squire.

“Sponsor? I will have enough treasure that I will be able to pay for my own entry.” Alfred puffed up his chest in pride.

“Pay for yourself? How quaint.” The words stung Alfred, but he determined not to let Hogrid bring him down. They had defeated a band of crookhorns and saved the young lad Arda. They were heroes! Lady Mulbrek herself might sponsor him!

“Say what you want. I will enter and win the tournament on the first day!” Alfred began to turn red in the face.

“You have never even been. What contests are you going to enter?” Hogrid continued to brush Asoph calmingly, but Alfred’s agitation was making the horse more twitchy. Hogrid shot the other squire a dark look.

“The Duke’s Hunt, the melee, the joust…whatever I feel like!” Alfred knew he only had the vaguest ideas of what all consisted of the tourney, learned from tales of people who had actually been.

Hogrid harumphed. “You’ll have to beat me in those events, if you want to win!”

Alfred bristled, but he thought he had a good chance against Hogrid, based on their combat so far. They had both done equally well in a fight. He let the topic drop. The boy Arda, only a year or so their junior, sat in the bow of the barge, staring glumly across the river. Alfred decided to leave Hogrid to his horse, and sat down next to the other youth.

“Feeling any better?” He asked Arda.

The young man looked at his rescuer, his eyes weighted and shadowed. “I feel some better, but the crookhorns were not kind to me. I think it will take some time for me to get back to full strength.”

“That’s understandable. I think Hogrid and I will spend a day or so in Dreg, if there is anything we can do to help you further, be sure to let us know. But, since it is our first stay there, can you recommend an inn?”

Mythic, is Arda the son of an innkeeper? 09 Extreme Yes
With an extreme yes, it sounds like he is son to the fancy innkeeper Madame Chandilore Shantywood.

The boy looked sheepishly at Alfred. “Uh…well. Yes. You should stay at Chateau Shantywood. My mother is the owner there.”

Alfred blinked in shock. Even he had heard of the famous chateau on Shantywood Isle. The huge island split the River Hameth for a quarter of a mile outside of Dreg. It was notoriously decadent and of ill-repute, for those that could afford it. “Ah, well.” And Alfred gave an uncomfortable laugh. “I’m not sure we will be able to afford that.”

“Are you joking? You saved my life. Mother will be eternally grateful. On top of a reward, she’ll probably let you stay for free!”

Hogrid had mentioned that the person looking for their son was offering a reward, but failed to mention it was the famous Madame Shantywood. As it were a summons, Hogrid walked over to where they were sitting in the boat.

“What are you two yapping about?”

Mythic, did Hogrid know the hiring person was from Madame Shantywood? 07 Extreme Yes.

“We are talking about you two staying on Chateau Shantywood, and your reward from Mother.” Arda piped up.

Alfred looked up at Hogrid, and noted the dark blush creeping across his face. “You were going to let me stay somewhere else, while you reaped the benefits of Madame Shantywood, weren’t you!”

Arda looked incredibly uncomfortable and shrank down into a tight ball on the deck.

“Ah, well…I was going to give you your fair share of the reward. But I assumed you would want to stay somewhere more to your standard of living. The finer things in life often do not sit well with those who do without.” He said so with complete sincerity, as if it was he was only speaking rationally.

Mythic conversation focus: 15 NPC asks a Question

“Have you ever stayed somewhere above your station, Alfred?” he continued with a snide tone.

Alfred’s mouth worked in anger, but he did not answer. Hogrid knew he had never really left the Woodcutter’s Camp, and that there was nothing fancy there.

“That’s what I thought. I was just looking out for you, that’s all.” And he patted Alfred on the head like a child. Alfred surged to his feet, infuriated.

“Don’t touch me!” he spat.

Several of the boatmen working the poles of the barge eyed the two arguing youths warily. Too much of a scuffle might upset the balance of the barge. “Sit down!” one of the men called angrily.

Alfred looked around Hogrid at the man who called out, but he crossed his arms, with a glare at Hogrid. “I will be staying at the Chateau, assuming Madame Shantywood will have me.”

Arda looked up at the two of them, humiliated on their behalf at their argument.

Mythic Conversation focus: 48 NPC wants to End the conversation

“I’m sure Mother will be happy to have both of you stay. Look, we can see the isle ahead in the river!” Arda pointed exuberantly downriver, gratefeful for the distraction.

Alfred gave Hogrid another dark look, then turned to gaze upon the most magnificent sight he had ever seen.

The village of Dreg sat hunched on the western bank of the river, and on the isle to the east, splitting the river in two, was the isle. Upon its cliffs rose the extravagant turrets and fanciful minarets of Chataeu Shantywood. Despite his bravado, Hogrid too gaped at the sight.

Mythic, has Hogrid ever been here, nearly impossible? 13 Yes.

“I was here with Father when I was a child, it is even more magnificent than I remember!” he mumbled to no one in particular.

“Bargemen, please dock at Shantywood Isle, we will be offloading there!” Arda called out.

One of the men chuckled. The captain of the barge cleared his throat and the man silenced. “I’m sorry, lad, but Madame Shantywood only allows her own barges to dock there. We’ll make way to Dreg, and you can catch a ride over to the isle from there.”

Arda stood up and straightened his filthy clothes. “I am the son of Madame Shantywood, and you should do as I command.”

This was the first Alfred had seen of Arda acting so haughtily. It reminded him of Hogrid. He didn’t like it.

“Forgive me, mi’lord,” the captain mocked. “I’m the son of the Duke Brackenwold, and he commanded me to dock at Dreg.”

At that, the entire crew burst into laughter. Arda’s face was purple with rage, but he sat back down in silence. Alfred gave a silent smile, but did not want to offend Arda further. Hogrid looked mortified at the sailor’s behavior.

Soon, the barge was bumping into the docks of Dreg, and the boys led their horses out onto the docks. Tied to a lone pier separate from the rest were the red-lantered barges of Shantywood. Seductively attired women sailors lounged about the barge, awaiting evening, when their journeys across the river would begin. They all wore heavy shawls, protection against the cold, but still showcasing their outfits.

Arda stalked over to them, Aflred and Hogrid hurrying behind.

“Please take me and my friends over to see Mother immediately,” Arda intoned as he stood over the barge on the pier. One of the scantily clad women lazily looked up, her lips puckered in a pout.

“Sorry, sonny, we offer no rides until the evening.” Several of the other women, some human and some breggle, giggled at her double entendre. Due to their hard work on the barge, they were all very tough looking women. One of the breggles stood head and shoulders over the others. She laughed uproariously.

She was also the first to look up at Arda on the pier. She scrambled to her feet, rocking the barge precariously with her sudden movement. “Arda! By the gods! You’re safe!” The other women quickly rose to their feet as well, their snide comments and laughter replaced with questions as to his health and where he had been. One of the human women climbed onto the pier and pressed his face into her considerable bosom as if he were a child. She must be well known to him, he embraced her with a sincere hug that indeed made him appear child-like. He seemed to be silently weeping as she soothed his hair.

“We feared you were lost, my Ardy. Shhh, you’re back with us now. Illabell has you, my dear. Shhh” She continued to pat and soothe him, many of the other women in the barge wiped burgeoning tears of relief and joy from their eyes.

The tall breggle woman climbed onto the pier as well, her scanty top covering her breasts, and naught else. She addressed the two squires. “Are you two Arda’s rescuers then?”

Alfred moved to introduce himself, but Hogrid cut in front of him. “We are knights of Lady Mulbreck, tasked with finding the youth. We have done so with honor and wish to return him home.”

The woman eyed their unadorned shields and armor. “Knights?”

“Squires.” Alfred corrected from behind Hogrid, who threw him an elbow to the chest. It was absorbed by the breastplate, but Alfred still shot daggers with his eyes at Hogrid’s back.

The breggle nodded as if understanding, a small smile creeping across her goat-like face. “I am Grewigg, Mistress of the Barges for Chateau Shantywood. The Madame would be pleased if you could join us for your reward on Arda’s return.” She had long curly black locks on her head that almost hid a scar running from one of her short horns down the left side of her face. The rest of her fur was the same glossy black and well kept. She moved closer to the two squires and placed an arm around each of their shoulders. Though they were both tall, she easily met their height. She smelled faintly of flowers.

“Let’s go stable your steeds at Shodgerey’s Shack, then we’ll take you all over to the isle.”

Mythic, are the young boys attracted to Grewigg, likely? 27 Yes.
Both of them? 68 Yes

The smell of Grewigg’s floral scent, along with her casual touch and barely covered private bits made lust stir within Alfred. He did his best to avoid looking at her to try to calm the rising…blood. Hogrid seemed to have no such qualms, looking at her chest directly with a lecherous smirk.

Though the Woodcutter’s Camp was just north of here, and across the River Hameth, Alfred had not seen a lot of breggles. The High Wold, home of the breggles, was west of here, Dreg being on the border between the Mulbrek domain and that of Lord Malbleat of the breggles. He certainly had never seen one as beautiful as Grewigg. Her strong arms and muscular shoulders made her all the more attractive and exotic. Very different from the simpering human women he had tried to date in his hometown.

A mixture of relief and regret washed over him as she took her arms away from them both and led them down the street behind the docks toward a low-roofed, single-story inn ahead. Even at this time of day, raucous laughter could be heard coming from inside. Grewigg told them to wait outside, as it could be a rough place for non-sailors. Alfred watched her walk away, her stubby tail twitching over her backside as she walked. She cast a glance over her shoulder and winked. Both Alfred and Hogrid thought it was directed to him alone and not the other squire.

Young Merble statue in Dreg - Dolmenwood Campaign Book

When she disappeared into the inn, Alfred turned grinning to Hogrid, who still stared at the door of the inn. “When we get to the chateau, I’m going to ask Grewigg if she wants to join me for a dance.”

“Dance? I think the women of Shantywood are known for more than that.” He had a lascivious tone.

Alfred drew down his brows. He did not like Hogrid speaking so lowly about his new attraction. “Scant clothing does not mean she has scant morals, Hogrid. As knights, we should act with greater honor.”

Mythic conversation focus: 01 Agree. I’m going to take that to mean Hogrid agrees in a sarcastic way.

Hogrid roared with laughter at the look on Alfred’s face. “Sure, high honor and all of that. I uphold my honor on the battlefield, but behind closed doors…” and he gave a wolfish whistle.

Alfred was disgusted. He had desires the same as any man, but he did his best to temper them with his honor. Hogrid had no such qualms apparently.

Soon two grooms emerged from the stables behind the inn, taking charge of the squires’ horses. Grewigg followed shortly after, grinning at the two young men.

“Well, now that is taken care of, let’s get you both and Arda over to see the Madame, yes?” And she placed an arm around both of their shoulders, alighting a new fire within Alfred.

End of Scene

Chaos factor 6

Close thread: Bring Arda back to Dreg
Open thread: Attend Shantywood reward celebration

According to the campaign, breggles and humans regularly intermarry, especially within the High Wold area of Dolmenwood. I also think Grewigg might be a neat wedge to place further into the animosity between Hogrid and Alfred. In addition, I have another breggle character I rolled up a long time ago for fun, and he might join the party at this point. Fun times ahead!

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