One of my favourite things about Ravenloft is its wacky worldbuilding: each Domain of Dread is a mind-prison tailored by mysterious Dark Powers to eternally torture its Darklord. Made of shadowstuff and the Darklord’s own memories, these domains are unreal yet populated by very real, trapped souls.
The most famous Darklord is Count Strahd, imprisoned in Barovia and tortured by repeated reincarnations of his beloved Tatyana. The campaign’s most horrifying reveal is that this loop repeats endlessly just to punish Strahd, regardless of the collateral damage. You are, effectively, meaningless in a cosmic struggle between an asshole and an even bigger asshole.
Art by Wizards of the Coast
Darkon stands out among the domains in Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft (2021) because it is on the brink of destruction. Before your campaign in Darkon even begins, the Darklord–the Lich King Azalin Rex–has already won. He escaped.
During the Hour of Ascension, Azalin vanished, leaving Darkon to dissolve into the mists. Without a Darklord to punish, the Dark Powers have no use for the domain, and the Shadowfell is reabsorbing it. As the mists fracture the land, familiar people and places simply fade from memory.
The authors write:
“Despite facing gradual annihilation, Darkon’s living population largely ignores the threat, dismissing reports of vanished regions as rumors and fearmongering.”
And this is why I can’t stop thinking about Darkon.
Art by Gladys Amy Mock
On Saturday, my city broke a 100-year temperature record. The heat, paired with 85% humidity, triggered intense nausea, headaches, and a profound sense of anxiety–and I’m a healthy 32-year-old with no respiratory conditions.
Friend-to-pedophiles and eBay billionaire Peter Thiel is planning to leave society behind for a floating, libertarian nation built for profit. Epstein-black-book-reject and son-of-an-emerald-baron Elon Musk plans to leave Earth altogether for Mars, having already become the world’s first trillionaire when SpaceX went public. Piss-bottle-enthusiast and Amazon founder Jeff Bezos has expressed a similar desire to abandon the world he helped to ruin.
While it is tempting to compare the elite billionaire class to Azalin Rex or other Darklords of Ravenloft, the reality is much more terrifying: our world is a rudderless ship drifting on the currents of capital, and no one can stop it from crashing into the rocks. The fallout of the impending climate disaster will kill more people than any historical atrocity. Despite their immense creativity, the writers at Wizards of the Coast cannot engineer a Darklord whose evil rivals the real-world systems that are set to doom us all.
Yet, one element of their worldbuilding remains hauntingly accurate: how people respond to the inevitable end. Like the citizens of Darkon, we will be forced to watch the people, places, and traditions we love disappear first from reality, and then from our collective memories–like so many souls lost to the mists. To speak of it will be dismissed as fear-mongering and rumors.
Old House. The Byron family refused to move, even when the Lab came. No one knows what happened to them, or their infamous collection of antique coins.
Art by Virginia Richards
I wrote previously about how my adventure was inspired by Kelsey Dionne’s Cursed Scroll #1 for Shadowdark RPG. Kelsey described the Gloaming with a couple of terse, evocative sentences for each location, and left room for me and my table to make it our own.
“509. Outlaw Camp. 30 bandits camp here led by Greaves Redthorne, an outcast Knight of St. Ydris. Greaves, a cunning liar, serves the marrow fiend Unduluk, who is only a few moons away from erupting from the marrow tree at the center of camp. Unduluk needs protection from the Knights of St. Ydris (1406) for now, and human flesh after its apotheosis. The bandits do not realize they serve as both.“
These four sentences served as the spark for a fiery manhunt arc, none of it written explicitly in the text of the adventure. When the party set a trap for Redthorne on the bridge outside of Marin’s Hold, the only thing I knew about the guy, really, is that he’s a cunning liar.
As Redthorne approaches the bridge to meet with my players (for plot reasons), something is off. He hasn’t seen anyone travelling to or from Marin’s Hold all day. He lets the wind wash over him, breathing in the scent of the forest. He succeeds on a WIS check (his cunning). He raises a hand, the bandits stand motionless.
My players watch from the trees–ready to ambush–as the bandits form a tight huddle around their leader. Redthorne casts shadowdance, weaving shadow stuff into an illusory version of himself who walks confidently onto the bridge with more than half of the bandits (his deception, and his willingness to sacrifice the bandits).
My players spring their trap. Their archer/fighter fires a flaming arrow at the payload of explosives strapped under the fragile bridge. All of the bandits are killed in the explosion, torn apart and scattered with the bricks into the murky river below, but Redthorne dissolves into shadow. He steps toward the flame, ready to fight like a demon to his bitter end.
It was an epic conclusion to a great arc, and while none of it was spelled out for me by Kelsey, I feel like all of it was consistent with her design, her writing, and her worldbuilding.
Page 11 of my adventure lists 6 treasure sites with one sentence descriptions for each, naming a treasure and hinting at a danger within. In an earlier blog post, I had a lot of fun expanding on the Lakeside Lodge and ended up with a Shining-esque creepy mansion full of fish ghosts.
Let’s do that again, only this time for the Old House. Maybe we can answer some questions about the eponymous Byron Family and their so-called infamous antique coins.
Map of the Old House
As per usual, I go to Dyson Logos. Obviously, I love drawing maps, but I’m not a machine, I can never draw all the maps I need. And I want to play tonight.
I like this map and its counterpart. The Byron’s have been gone for over fifty years and the Old House was built in a *coastal vulnerability zone* (in other words, it’s been battered by the elements). Here we can see that only the brick elements remain and a lot of the wood/plaster/ceramic has fallen away. A small wooden shack on the west side of the mansions’ ruins is home to Granny Byron.
Granny Byron HP 8 Driven to hold onto her antique coins forever and ever and ever. STR 18 Bite (d10), false teach shatter on Critical Damage (d6 Blast) Adapted. Granny Byron has held onto these coins for a long, long time. She can perform any mundane action without the use of her hands.
Antique Coins. Just a normal box of antique coins. To the right collector in Bastion, easily worth £1,500.
OLD HOUSE ENCOUNTERS Roll d6
1. Jack Byron wants you off his property. He’s tired of pesky Lab workers picking through his trash. If you know where Sophia is, he’s much more agreeable
Jack Byron HP 6 Driven to help his mother rest. Armour 1 (Breast Plate), STR 12, CHA 12 Shotgun (d8, Bulky)
“Those jackoffs at the Lab think they can take what they want, like city folk are so much smarter than us country folk. Wait a minute, where did you say you were from again?”
2. Janet Byron gardening around the ruined mansion’s exterior. She’s more welcoming of guests than her husband, but flies into a rage if anyone points out the dreadful state of her home.
Janet Byron HP 8 Driven to redeem herself in the eyes of her mother-in-law. Armour 1 (Chainmail), DEX 12, CHA 12 Rapier (d8)
“Those antique coins are all we have left. Sophia needs to take over holding them for her grandmother, it’s her duty as her father’s eldest daughter.“
3. Ricky Byron setting bear traps all throughout the property, hidden under the brush. He isn’t interested in the Players, unless they’re willing to share stories of their violent exploits.
Ricky Byron HP 4 Driven to see others in pain. CHA 8 Stinky Blade (d6), DEPRIVED on Critical Damage
“Ricky doesn’t give a shit about those coins. Ricky doesn’t give a shit about you.”
Bear Traps. Hidden under the brush, difficult to see because of all the litter and debris. Causes d6 damage and stuck for 1 Turn.
Art by Ohara Koson
4. A dozen white rabbits emerge from the lowlands to the west and dash through the property toward the road to the east. One of them stops and looks at you for a moment, as if lost in thought, before reuniting with the others.
Retter, the Original White Rabbit Driven to hide in plain sight. Armour 1 (Blue Flames), CHA 14 Moonbeam (d10), permanently blinded on Critical Damage
5. Four Field Agents in rubber hazmat suits scanning the Old House with strange machinery. They will encourage the Players to leave, for their own sake.
Field Agents HP 4 Driven to find the Original White Rabbit. Armour 1 (Hazmat Suit) Snare Pole (d8, Bulky) ensnared on Critical Damage or Concealed Pistol (d6)
“I can’t believe you’d be here without the proper protection… I guess you people will do anything for a quick buck.”
6. Three Ferrymen looking to steal those antique coins they heard about. One of them managed to pry the box of coins from Granny’s hands, but she’s relentless. She got them back.
Ferryman HP 3 Driven to find some treasure and get back to the Lighthouse. CHA 12 Pistol (d6) or Switchblade (d6)
Final Thoughts
So, here we have a potential standoff at the Old House. Everybody has conflicting drives, and the verticality of the map makes it a potentially interesting stand off (if it comes to that).
I wouldn’t describe the entire location in a lot of detail for the Players, just print a blank map and put it in front of them.
Print one for yourself and write directly on the map: decide where a few bear traps are, put something useful but inexpensive in the treasure chest on the upper levels. I would put one of the Coastal Oddities from Page 37 in there, if it were me.
The chest requires 7 antique coins be inserted into the lock-slot to open (lessening the total value of the coins to £1,200).
For more hazards and obstacles, don’t forget to look at “34 Good Traps” on Page 304 of Electric Bastionland. For this map, I would choose the following:
(6) “A column of light. When a being enters they are frozen, and an evil duplicate of them is conjured. The victim is only freed when the duplicate is killed.” Put this on on the southern altar.
(21) “Rope bridge primed to split in the middle when the majority of the crossing weight has passed the midpoint. The characters can grab their half of the bridge and climb back up easily enough.” The last bit of ruins connecting the upper levels.
(13) “Glossy, friction-less floor and spiked walls.” Seems like something Ricky Byron would do. On the top floor of the southern structure, he’s poured motor oil all over the floor and fixed sharp metal and glass to the remains of the walls. On top of that, there’s a risk of falling in the southeastern corner of the room. Ricky will try to trick the Players into going up there if he can.
This month, I’m reading Dead Astronauts by Jeff VanderMeer. It’s the sequel to Borne—a novel I absolutely adore for its refusal to hold the reader’s hand. VanderMeer respects the reader; he drops a disturbing piece of worldbuilding, moves on, and trusts you to sit with the implications. But Dead Astronauts feels less like a traditional narrative and more like a fever dream. The prose is heady, the plot moves with a surreal, hallucinatory cadence, and while I love every second of it, I’m frequently left wondering if I’m too high or not high enough to really get it.
In a novel, that kind of beautiful disorientation is part of the joy. If I lose my footing, I can slow down, re-read a passage, or parse the text at my own pace. But a ttrpg is a different beast entirely. A tabletop plot is a living, ephemeral thing; it happens in real-time, exists only in the moment, and can’t be flipped back a few pages when a player loses the thread.
This leaves designers with a fascinating challenge: how do we build surreal, vibe-heavy worlds while keeping our players grounded enough to actually navigate the fiction? It’s a precarious tightrope walk, but it’s a balancing act that In a Petal Unlimited absolutely nails.
Art by Apollo (@poliaths)
In a Petal Unlimited is a 23 page adventure for Cairn (although designed for Wyrm, which I have not played). Words and interior art are by giant robot tackler. The cover illustration is by Apollo (@poliaths).
“At the sea’s center, a blocky spire lunges upward, tall as a lighthouse and twice as thick. Fresh vines form a lattice on its surface. Large birds flit to and fro – a vertical ecosystem… Every hour, on the hour, a single wave pulses from the spire.”
The Surreal, Grounded
Among the adventure’s cited inspirations is VanderMeer’s Annihilation. In that novel, Ghost Bird/the Biologist is driven into a hallucinatory, deeply personal nightmare of ecological terror. In a Petal Unlimited riffs on those same visual themes while deftly avoiding the trap of becoming an unplayable, avant-garde slog. It stays grounded by giving the Warden concrete tools. The NPCs are sharply sculpted, allowing you to easily convey the vague sense of *intimacy* the locals feel toward their strange environment. The adventure offers a brilliant structural hook: the players are following the trail of a missing expedition. This is exactly how I opted to run the Iron Coral; *rescue* the missing explorers is a much better verb than *experience* the weirdness.
From the Tavern to the Spire
The adventure comes out swinging with one of the best ~meet in a tavern~ setups I have ever seen in a one-shot. The tavern here is the Last Vespers, a rudderless barge guided gently along by swarming minnows. I immediately wanted to run this adventure based on the concept of the Ship alone. The Ship acts as a launchpad for fantastic hooks–most notably Bill Billions and his experimental flying machine. I deeply appreciate that the flying machine offers a fun, open-ended escalation that can completely upend how the party approaches the Spire. I would have so much fun embodying Mr. Billions.
Once the players begin their ascent, the module introduces a falling mechanic that made me incredibly jealous as a designer. I can instantly picture the spongy, gentle fall into the black grass, and the elegant way momentum actually makes the landing worse for the player. It’s the exact kind of physics-based hazard that is effortless to make a ruling on because you can vividly see it in your mind’s eye.
The Spire encounters themselves all feel like they organically belong to the vertical ecosystem, presenting highly believable hazards for climbers. The believability is reinforced as the ecosystem dynamically shifts across Morning, Noon, and Evening watches.
My personal favourite is Noon: the oppressive heat drives desperate squirrels to frantically tear into the characters’ waterskins. Perfect.
The Delve
When the party transitions into the dungeon encounters, the writing remains sharp, pointed, and clearly remembers to have fun with the language. The environmental events are the absolute standout here. As I was reading, I found myself wondering: what happens when the tower pulses while the PCs are inside? I wasn’t disappointed by the answer.
A personal favourite of mine is Room 6, the Phase Error encounter. It features an NPC whose age flickers every time you blink, sitting over a chest that duplicates into unfocused images. It is exactly my kind of encounter–deeply weird, interactive visuals. The environmental *weirdness* adds a literal justification for a combat encounter with multiple phases, as the NPC splits into copies of herself on Critical Damage. It’s the kind of out-of-the-frying-pan action writing that I prefer over a traditional slugfest.
Shape-Shifting Conclusions
The dungeon’s surrealism reaches its peak in Area 12 where the players encounter a massive, tumorous heart, forcing out a single, torturous beat each hour. I won’t spoil the adventure, but the designer beautifully gamifies the climax by providing concrete mutation tables based on the party’s moral choices.
Ultimately, the conclusions offered at the end of the adventure maintain the exact same grounded approach: the consequences of the players’ actions are beautifully and heavily described, but refreshingly, they are not over-explained. It leaves the mystery intact, trusting the Warden and the players to sit with the implications–much like VanderMeer would do.
Ever since I ran my Ravenloft campaign using Shadowdark RPG, I’ve been fantasizing about adapting the module for Mausritter, replacing the eponymous Count with a similarly tragic vampire bat. I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to run that campaign, but if I do this is the map I would use:
1. Old Windmill. Village of 100 mice on the flagstone floor of a long-abandoned windmill. They fear the reclusive, immortal Count who lives in the rafters above the millstone. None are welcome upstairs an invitation.
The Count HP 12 STR 14, DEX 12, WIL 16, Armour 1 Bite (d10), target is drained of all blood on Critical Damage and rises as an undead thrall of the Count. *Knows the following spells: Fireball, Darkness, Fear (Mausritter page 13) *Can fly 2x normal speed. *The Count regenerates 6 HP each time he bites a target with blood. *If he is killed, he becomes a cloud of mist that retreats to his roost in the rafters to regenerate. He can only be truly killed if his roost is destroyed.
2. Flowerbed. An overgrown, mist-addled path cuts through the weeds and flowers to the graveyard north of the Windmill.
3. Handcart. Tipped over and overgrown; sodden human debris sinks into the mud. Among the cloth, glass, and metal are dozens of human teeth.
4. Overgrown Path. Deep gouges in the mud, gnarled roots, grasping, claw-like branches.
5. Fence Posts. Overgrown and rotted. A twisting path through the mud rises to the windmill on the hill.
6. Standing Stones. Ancient stark-white stone carved with arcane symbols.
7. Ravine. Where the forest meets the hills, a narrow ravine is home to a ghastly order of vengeful, knightly lizards.
8. Cemetery. Crooked obelisks and a shattered mausoleum. Inside, a stone sarcophagus is shattered. The human remains within are fanged and steaked with cursed wood (here lies the source of the Count’s curse).
9. Gallows. At the crossroads, a human structure collapses into the brush.
10. Signpost/Ditch. Overgrown wood engraved with human symbols. A ditch beneath the trail is home to frightened badger (unable to escape the mists).
11. Lakeshore. Misty and still. An immortal, amber catfish offers Dark Boons for those who vow to slay the Count.
12. Fallen Tree. Two dozen colourfully-dressed squirrels camp here. They are the only creatures permitted to freely leave the Count’s domain, but they prefer to stay where they know they are protected.
13. Reed Forest/Lily Pads. The ruins of a frog village who’s burgomaster tried to defy the Count.
14. Marshes. Bobbing witch lights and faeries can be seen here at night, where the river meets the lake.
15. Covered Bridge. Roost of the Count’s vampire bat spawn.
16.Evergreens. In these twin towers, an owl sorcery nurses the wounds from his near-fatal encounter with the Count. His defeat has turned him to madness.
17. Waterfalls. Cascading waterfalls, a treacherous climb. Home of a territorial mountain goat.
18. Wolf Cave. The Count’s most powerful ally is a mangey wolf who worships him as a God.
19. Old Raven’s Tree. A hollowed tree and the home of an insane raven matriarch. She believes herself the mother of the Count, despite all evidence of the contrary. She infuses mousetraps with the souls of murderous rodents to make an army of wicked constructs.
Last year, a friend introduced our group to Brindlewood Bay. I was immediately struck by its near-perfect mystery system. Over six sessions, we told a largely player-driven, truly resonant story about facing loss. Now, I’m running Public Access for some of the same group. Three sessions into a planned year of play, having seen the mechanics from both sides of the screen, I have thoughts.
Art by the Gauntlet
As a player, it took a moment to grasp the game’s open use of modular clues. The designer makes no attempt to retroactively make the clues “real”—that’s the players’ job. They solve the mystery by being good storytellers with the provided prompts.
For example, if my character finds “a series of numbers,” asking “What are the numbers?” is the wrong approach. The numbers mean nothing on their own; they need context.
As a Game Master, this wasn’t a novel concept. I’ve been a fan of Sly Flourish’s The Eight Steps of the Lazy DM since I started the hobby. It boils down to keeping prep modular so you can be flexible and responsive. The eight steps are the raw ingredients you bring to cook with, but the cooking happens at the table.
One essential ingredient I always use is secrets and clues: modular facts about the situation, plot, characters, or setting. I don’t plan how the players will discover them, but I’m ready to dish out information when they investigate.
The major difference between running D&D with secrets and clues versus running Public Access is that, with the latter, even I don’t know what’s going on—I’m just dishing out the clues.
I have finally found a game so well-designed I can barely prep for it.
Art by the Gauntlet
I was surprised yesterday to hear Sly Flourish on the Lazy RPG Talk Show critique the Daggerheart adventure, The Wish Thief, and get tripped up on this mystery mechanic.
“I don’t know what clues to reveal if I don’t know who it is,” he said. “The secret and clue is still a specific thing that leads a specific way.”
I’ve never used secrets and clues that way; I’ve always improvised to align with the players’ interpretations. I thought that was how they worked!
While Daggerheart isn’t for me, I was impressed the new adventure used this mechanic, though I agree it fumbles the outcome. In the Wish Thief, whether the players solve the mystery or not, the villain escapes to trigger a chase scene. Mike rightly criticizes this railroading, but culminating a mystery in a tense scene dependent on the players’ success is a great concept.
In Brindlewood Bay, players roll to test their theory. Depending on the roll and the depth of their investigation, they may have a chance to stop the villain. If they didn’t find many clues and roll a mid-tier result, the villain slipping away makes sense. Cue the chase. This feels much better, ensuring the players’ choices and efforts actually matter.
1. Greenhaus Flimsy wood, ceramic pots, the blue glow of humming, human grow-lights. An insular village of 500 mice, powered by scavenged tech and wary of outsiders. Open only on weekly Market Days (the Broken Pot Tavern serves a great fish-steak). Mayor Sorrel tithes vegetables weekly to the Plateau (2) for the Vixen Queen’s protection. Guarded by 2d6 Knights of Goldenfire.
Knight of Goldenfire HP 4 Wants to protect Greenhaus and the mice of the Vacant Lot in the name of the Vixen Queen. Armour 1 (Crest Shield), STR 9, DEX 9, WIL 9 Sword (d6)
2. Plateau Cracked asphalt, grasping weeds, bone-white stone monoliths. A wilderness of sodden human debris. Harmless foragers graze by day; Goldenfire hunts at dawn and dusk. By night, cultist bats leave floral offerings for their Vixen Queen.
3. Horse Skeleton Overgrown ribs, brittle grass, sweet incense. A neutral Coven of Crows honors the dead here. These avian scholars and mages trade lore and songs for shiny trinkets, but they despise pushy rodents and will eat those who test their patience.
4. Litterwood Calcified trees choked by weeds and toxic human refuse. Lair of three raccoon enforcers. They act as Goldenfire’s spies and muscle, keeping dissenting rodents in line.
Raccoon Brothers, Django, Tuco, and Dexter HP 10 Warband Scale⚐ Wants to eat a steady supply of highly processed foods. STR 15, DEX 11, WIL 10 Bite (d6)
5. Din Borimm A festering maze of wet cloth, rusted metal, and rot. The Roach Kingdom. Industrious insects mine the trash for weapon-grade minerals. Protective of their hoard and wary of outsiders, but respectful rodents may pass if they honor the Roach King.
6. Lily Pond Dizzying reeds, buzzing cicadas, still, lifeless waters. A dwindling frog population hides here, denied sanctuary in Greenhaus. At dawn, raccoons dredge them from the lilies and drag them to the Big Rock (17) for Goldenfire’s meals.
7. Fig Trees Twisting roots burst from splintered, weed-choked garden boxes. Bound by an ancient truce: mice claim one tree, the Union of Feathers claims the other. Goldenfire bitterly resents this compromise and plots the avian tree’s destruction.
8. Shattered Lands Cold asphalt, screeching metal, dripping water. An open manhole descends into the flooded dark of the parking garage below (Dungeon #1).
9. Trail Rough gravel and sprouting weeds. A long, perilous journey toward the road. Roll 1d6 on the Outsider Encounter table.
10. Old Hollow A great tree with claw-like limbs. Roost to a zealous family of bats who worship Goldenfire as the Queen of the Night.
11. Waterfall Foaming water and floating rubbish. Conceals a hidden bat-cult temple. A secret tunnel connects this sanctuary directly to Old Hollow (10).
12. Stream Shallow rapids rushing over shiny pebbles. Teeming with trout. Greenhaus mice fish the banks safely by day; Goldenfire laps the water and hunts freely by night.
13. Stonewall A breathtaking expanse of stone carved with arcane symbols. Scholarly mice study the ancient runes here, heavily guarded by Goldenfire’s Knights.
14. Sinking Mud Bubbling sludge, putrid stench, dissolving debris. A half-submerged human megastructure sinks slowly into the muck, hiding a valuable treasure deep within (Dungeon #2).
15. Foxhole An earthen maw littered with tiny bones. Lair of the Vixen Queen, Goldenfire. She sleeps through the daylight hours, protected by 2d6 of her Knights.
Goldenfire, the Vixen Queen HP 15 Warband Scale⚐ Wants to be the only ruler of the Vacant Lot and hunt whatever is in her territory. Armour 1, STR 16, DEX 15, WIL 12 Bite (d8), target is decapitated on Critical Damage
16. Billboard Stained wood groaning in the wind. Roost of the Union of Feathers. Pigeons, gulls, doves, and finches massing to seize the Vacant Lot from Goldenfire.
17. Big Rock A massive, sun-baked slab. Raccoon enforcers pin captured frogs to the rock to bake in the heat—Goldenfire prefers her favorite meal crispy.
18. Stonewoods A petrified forest of calcified wood. A violently divided territory: the canopy belongs entirely to the birds, while the roots belong to rogue, unaligned snakes.
19. Drainpipe/Warehouse A looming, abandoned human structure. Domain of Fatcat and her subservient rat horde. Deep within the shadows, they forge weapons of war, plotting to take the Vacant Lot by force.
Fatcat HP 12 Warband Scale⚐ Wants to expand her empire and rule the Vacant Lot. Armour 1, STR 12, DEX 12, WIL 12 Claw (d6) or Bite (d8), target is decapitated on Critical Damage
There may be times when you want to zoom in on Dredging and make it a full scene. You can use the site generation rules from Mythic Bastionland to create a unique location tied to a specific treasure. In the example below, the dredging site is the shipwreck of the Belmont—a sailboat that crashed into the glass skerries in this remote island cluster. The Belmont was carrying a Bird Memorial statue which is rumoured to conjure birds.
The Belmont
Entrances: 1 & 2
Rival Dredgers. A crew of desperate fishers looking for an easy score. So far no luck. They fire long guns hoping to scare away other would-be treasure hunters (but they lack the drive to really fight).
Barrier Isles. Sandy isles (home to many nests of gulls). Littered with tiny debris from the Belmont.
Glass Skerries. Jagged rocks of pure, translucent glass. Difficult to see and maneuver through (without a clever solution, d6 damage to the ship).
Shimmer Corals. Diverse, colourful life swirls around a shimmering, jagged coral reef (those who linger see a school of glowing fish navigating safely through the skerries to the Belmont where they feed upon her crew).
The Belmont. Sunken sailboat. Spend a Phase to Dredge. Those who anchor here overnight are likely to be visited by the Belmont’s ghost (a lost machine). Roll d6: 4-6 = Bird Memorial, 2-3 = Junk, 1 = Sea Monster!
Bird Memorial. Bulky. Once per day, summon a squall of biting gulls that lasts for d6 turns and bites a target of your choice (d6 per turn).
Dredger HP 12 Armour 1 (Iron Hull) Locker Space 8
Lost Machine HP 12 Driven to scare other machines away from the Deep. Armour 2 (Incorporeal) Spirit foghorn (-d6 CHA, at 0 CHA black out and wake up in a random location, d6 Phases later, with d6 Ship HP loss).
SEA MONSTER FORMRoll d6
Clam Crawler HP 12, Armour 2 (Speckled Shell)
Flying Manta HP 10, Armour 2 (Leathery Hide)
Serpent HP 8, Armour 1 (Metal Scales)
Giant Fishman HP 6
Fire Jelly HP 4
Flying Eel HP 3
FUNCTIONRoll d6
Tentacles (d8), pulled overboard on Critical Damage
Gorey Bite (d10), eviscerated on Critical Damage
Bloody Spray (d6, Blast), DEPRIVED on Critical Damage
Three factions. Three adventure locations. Five brand new isometric maps.
Factions
The Booth Fuel Refinery Company. Guv’nor Booth has ruled the islands surrounding the Surge for nearly four centuries, though few living souls have actually seen his face. With his vast wealth and deep connections, he could achieve almost anything, yet he remains consumed by two obsessions: absolute dominion over others and finding a way to break his own curse.
Resources. Control of fuel production and immeasurable wealth, influence over the Merchants’ Guild in Brighton, spies, thralls, hired mercenaries, and mock sharks, a powerful doomsday weapon.
Goals ❐ Steal the space-bending powers of the pirates. ❐ Find and destroy the Watchers of the Deep. ❐ Find the Lauzon and undo the curse of Deep Vampirism (Guv’nor Booth).
Pirates. Banished from his home star following a failed coup, King Uptza has brought his maths sorcerers to the Surge. He seeks a power great enough to annihilate his enemies back on Angor, intending to return and secure his legacy as a true, eternal King.
Resources. Space-bending musical powers, advanced ship engineering and kidnapped crabmen, a growing collection stolen of oddities.
Goals ❐ Find the source of Guv’nor Booth’s immortality. ❐ Steal oddities from around the Surge. ❐ Sacrifice his pirates to the Deep and return to Angor glorious and immortal (King Uptza).
The Watchers of the Deep. An unlikely alliance between the lycanthropic ecoterrorists of the Public House and the preachers of long-dead traditions at the Church of the Deep. Led by Angel and Mercado, their collective mission is to dismantle the Booth Company and kill Guv’nor Booth—though they remain uncertain if the latter is even possible.
Resources. Network of evangelical sailors, werepuffin spies, limited source of raw chaos.
Goals ❐ Indiscriminately bomb Booth Company fuel dredgers—keep up the heat. ❐ Find a way to kill Guv’nor Booth for good. ❐ Steal the werepuffin’s lycanthropy (Mercado).
Church of the Deep
Beach. Frozen silt (sloughing into the sea). Dozens of huddled puffins (a pair among them are werepuffin spies). A well-trodden path rises to a three-storey church leaning forward on the hillside.
Abandoned Ship. An anchored dredger. Locked. Inside, machinists’ tools (covered in dust). Expired food and untouched rations (subtle signs of a struggle: blood drops on the counter, an open drawer, a tipped-over chair).
Temple Hall. Stained-glass windows (dust sparkles in narrow shafts of sunlight). Speckled stone statue of a great nautilus (its teal paint is peeling).
Lecture Hall. 2d6 evangelical sailors listen keenly while Mercado waxes philosophical about the Deep (he greets newcomers with warmth).
Dining Hall. Mesmerizing pendant-light centrepiece (made of mosaic beach glass). Glenn waits for his “friend” Drew to come down from the lounge upstairs (he claims to be a recent convert of the church).
Stairs and Under. Weathered photographs in cracked, salt-stained frames depict the church’s construction from varied, dredged-up parts. In a locked closet beneath the stairs is a backpack with a flare gun (d6) and the keys to a dredger (2).
Monks’ Quarters. A dormitory of the church’s most devoted, monastic caretakers (smells like fresh fish waste and wet cotton). 2d6 evangelicals live and rest in crowded sleeping arrangements.
Lounge. Locked.Drew has trapped himself in here; he’s seen the ice caves below the church and he knows about the werepuffins, but he refuses to go to war against the Booth Company (he knows he won’t be allowed to leave).
Father Mercado’s Office. Arched, stained glass window depicts the church being swallowed by a great wave. On the shelves, textbooks on Deep Water ecology and cosmic predictions (behind which is a secret staircase that rises to a glowing altar).
Secret Altar. Glowing, crystalline raw chaos (with swaying tendrils of glowing vapour). Dozens of books about longevity, immortality, the occult—lycanthropy (all of them dog-eared and well-used). In a leatherbound journal, grandiose claims about worthiness for a holy crusade.
Raw Chaos. Powerful source of kinetic energy. With chemical manipulation, can be burned for fuel. In its current form, exposure to direct heat might cause a massive explosion (d20, Blast).
Ice Caves
Wine Cellar. Tessellated floor (rust-red tiles). Dust-covered bottles of wine crowd the shelves (watched by two members of the church—secretly Watchers of the Deep).
Secret War Room. Behind the wine shelves. A werepuffin and d6 watchers discuss their next attack on a fuel dredger tonight (they need another ship and crew for their plan).
Frozen Temple. Light from candelabras mounted on stone pillars (carved with grasping tentacles). Opaque, icy floor and rows of pews facing a detailed tapestry (it depicts men going into a dark, greenish cave and rising as angelic warriors). 2d6 Watchers rest and ready themselves for war.
Vault. Locked. Guarded by a cave crawler at all times, the vault contains three Bulky Barrels of Raw Chaos and the church’s collections in five Bulky satchels (totaling £2,500).
The Mouth of the Deep. An icy hole in the floor of the cave (cold, dark fall to 10). The walls are lined with the frozen remains of deep sea life (some look vaguely human—lycanthropes in mid-transformation).
Sacrificial Altar. Bloodstained permafrost juts over the Mouth of the Deep. A blind cave crawler beckons newcomers to jump (“fear not, those who are worthy rise anew… better”).
Abandoned Mine. Hollowed out ice caves. 2d6 cave crawlers slither in the dark (cursing Guv’nor Booth for drinking up the Deep!). They lash sticks of dynamite together into makeshift demolition charges (d12, Blast).
Prisoners. 2d6 rig workers (thralls) from the Booth Fuel Refinery Company are held prisoner behind sturdy wooden doors, guarded by three cave crawlers at all times.
Chaos Mine. Shackled rig workers (2d6 thralls) chip away at the icy walls and grasp their blackened fingers at the glowing green crystals within (tiny slivers of raw chaos).
The Deep. Under shattered, crystal ice, a swirling pattern of glowing raw chaos fills the chamber with sickly green light (the few who survive the fall rise as a cave crawler).
Barrel of Raw Chaos. Steel—hazardous contents. Raw chaos in a cooling, jelly-like medium. Safe for transport, but capable of mass destruction if it is detonated.
The Fall. A fall from 5 to 10 causes d20 damage and activates the inert mutagenic properties of the raw chaos beneath the ice. Survivors must make a CHA save or turn into a cave crawler driven to save the Deep. On a success, a survivor gains innate Armour 1 (Inhuman Reflexes).
Floating Structures. Iso-trigon structures vibrate just above the ice. Homes of the Rhythm Masters (although two of them are always at sea). Near-constant buzzing from the tower (nauseating, agitates the birds, but helps the pirates acclimate).
Salty Geyser. Freezing, salty water shoots up from below (the floating tower causes violent shifts in the current). 2d6 aggregates catch falling fish in nets after the blasts (calculating the trajectory).
Druidic Burial Site. Tiny grove of wildflowers among carved, lichen-crusted standing stones. A small nest of puffins guards their eggs at the base (a werepuffin spy is among them, watching the pirates’ movements).
Scrap Heap. A pile of barnacle crusted steel and beach wood (left over from the kidnapped crabmen’s work). 2d6 junk, a flock of biting gulls. Next to the scrap heap is a makeshift grave: (HERMES).
Crabmen Caves. The 9 surviving crabmen and Motley sleep in the frigid, wet caves during the day and work under threat of death at night (they have learned how the pirate ships work).
Mixers’ Camp. A dozen mixers—kidnapped villagers from Brighton who forget their lives (their only drive is to serve their new King). They’re supervised by d6 aggregates (to make sure their false memories go unquestioned).
Loot Cave. Three Bulky treasure chests of cash (£2,000 each) and three unique oddities.
Throne Room. Locked. Non-Euclidean stairs rise to a dizzying hall overlooking the entire pirate camp (only transparent from within). King Uptza sits on his throne and holds court with his trusted advisors, including a Rhythm Master. A map made of light shows the position of the other two pirate ships in his fleet (they move constantly around the Surge).
Observation Deck. A stage overlooking the pirate camp where the Downbeat Commander is always at their station (prepared to depart, as soon as the Rhythm Master joins them).
Booth Refinery
Rig Platform. Concrete and steel, d6 rig workers (thralls) connect the fuel dredgers’ lines with the control room. They report suspicious activity to their supervisors.
Fuel Dredger. Anchored. Pumps tons of salty water through the control room (where raw chaos is filtered and separated for chemical processing). In the frigid water, d6 mock sharks are always circling.
Control Room. A supervisor oversees two thralls controlling the flow of water through the station (if the lines stall for too long, there could be a catastrophic explosion aboard the fuel dredger—d20, Blast).
Raw Chaos Tanks. Diverted raw chaos is stored in a cooling jelly for chemical treatment. A supervisor and d6 thralls carefully measure the pressure (if the tanks are sabotaged, the entire refinery could be ruined).
Chemical Processing. An outdoor lab with a supervisor and d6 thralls. Raw chaos is filtered through humming machinery and vibrating pipes (some of it burned off in putrid smoke) until it can be reduced to an oily distillation and pumped back into barrels.
Office Reception. Locked. Abandoned filing cabinet (documents connecting some of Bastion’s greatest industries with the Booth Company).
Boardroom. Overlooks the entire refinery. Roll d6, 1 = Guv’nor Booth is here waiting for one of his most trusted spies.
Back Offices. Cluttered, muddy. Collapsed thralls litter the floor, two supervisors vent about their growing burnout.
Loading Dock. 2d6 thralls stack barrels of fuel (if ignited, d12, Blast). Above, the refinery tower looms (a massive cannon is pointed toward Brighton).
Guv’nor’s Office. Locked. The sounds of organ music from above (stairs rise toward a colossal tower of steel built atop the refinery). Guarded by a supervisor at all times.
Refinery Tower
Gallery. A statue of a handsome dignitary (Guv’nor Booth, as a man). Paintings and documents from the region’s ancient past line the walls (a painting of an expedition ship—the Lauzon).
Lift/Junction. A steel box, chain, and pulley form a heavy, industrial lift that rises to the top of the tower. A vaulted junction is guarded by d6 remade sirenheads.
Chamberlain’s Workshop. Littered with machine parts. The tower Chamberlain—a crabman named Alvin—crafts machine parts for remaking thralls and other deadly machines.
Artillery. 2d6 castle guards load chaos-powered artillery into a massive cannon. The control panel currently aims the weapon at Brighton (the weapon is capable of levelling entire neighbourhoods with each shot).
Recovery Room. 2d6 thralls recover from repairs in the remaking lab (they will soon return to the refinery).
Remaking Lab. The Guv’nor’s closest living ally, Lorenzo, uses strange chemicals and biothaumaturgic techniques to remake the living (and undead) in terrible ways.
Spiral Stairs. Guarded by d6 sirenheads.
Furnace/Railing. An outdoor railing overlooking the sea (hundred of feet below). On the other side, putrid smoke rises from the furnace (powering the tower’s machinery).
Trophy Room. Bodies in tanks of yellow, milky liquid (the Guv’nor keeps his enemies preserved). A recently constructed empty tank has an unlabeled placard.
Guv’nor’s Chamber Vat. Locked. Filled with ocean water (where the Guv’nor must rest in order to recover his immortal body).
Travel. Travel between adjacent locations is measured in Phases. Each day has 3 Phases: Morning (from dawn until midday), Afternoon (from midday until dusk), and Night (from dusk until dawn).
Sail. 3 Phases. Motor. 2 Phases. Full Throttle. 1 Phase, -d6 HP
Example Ship: Tugboat
Tugboat HP 10 Armour 1 (Steel Hull) Locker Space 6
Locker Space refers to the number of Bulky items a ship can hold.
At HP 0, a ship is Broken Down, and requires Major Repairs by a Specialist. There is always a cost.
A ship that is reduced to HP 0 from physical damage sinks in a number of turns equal to its available locker space and is lost to the Deep.
Instead of travelling, Players can spend a Phase to perform Minor Repairs to their ship (by consuming Junk) and restore d6 HP.
Weather. Roll d6 at the start of each day. 1—Tempest. Hurling debris, -d6 HP per Phase while travelling. 2-3—Wind and rain. Poor visibility. 4-6—Clear skies or scattered showers.Adjacent locations are visible on approach.
CURRENTS The Deep (Red). Encircles the Surge. Treacherous, unpredictable weather patterns.
Coastal Islands (Green). Well-travelled by fishers and merchant sailors from Brighton.
Direct (Green Dotted). The fastest routes, encounters are always pirates.
Bony (Mauve). Hazardous; dotted with obstacles. Impossible to travel at a Full Throttle.
Closed (Pale Red). Private routes, patrolled by d6 +1 mock sharks on behalf of the Booth Fuel Refinery Company.
*** Check for an Encounter each time the Players set sail. Roll d6, 1 = Encounter.
ENCOUNTERSRoll d6
An inexplicably fast pirate ship carrying a powerful storm in its wake. It has a crew of 2d6 aggregates, a Rhythm Master, a Downbeat Commander, and a mixer (for negotiations). The pirates demand oddities, and will destroy ships who refuse to pay their “toll.”
A Sea Monster. An aberrant horror of the Deep driven to feed. Roll 2d6 to combine Form and Function.
Rescue. Someone (or something) lost at sea, in need of rescue. Roll d6.
Strange visions on the horizon. Static in the air. It’s a ghost ship, the haunted remnants of a lost machine filled with regret.
A sailboat with 2d6 evangelicals dispensing literature about the Church of the Deep. They ask for donations to protect the sea from ruin: “The Booth Company is destroying our Maker!”
A fuel dredger on its way from the Refinery to the Fading Coast (or beyond to the City). Guarded by d6 +1 mock sharks for hire.
SEA MONSTER FORMRoll d6
Clam Crawler HP 12, Armour 2 (Speckled Shell)
Flying Manta HP 10, Armour 2 (Leathery Hide)
Serpent HP 8, Armour 1 (Metal Scales)
Giant Fishman HP 6
Fire Jelly HP 4
Flying Eel HP 3
FUNCTIONRoll d6
Tentacles (d8), pulled overboard on Critical Damage
Gorey Bite (d10), eviscerated on Critical Damage
Bloody Spray (d6, Blast), DEPRIVED on Critical Damage
Huge Claws (d6, Blast)
Screech (d6, Blast)
Ropey Limbs (d4, Blast)
RESCUE Roll d6
No clothing. Secretly a werepuffin and the sole survivor of a recent attack on a fuel dredger (d6 mock sharks are in close pursuit).
Facedown, cold, somehow still “alive.” Secretly an undead thrall who fell overboard from a fuel dredger. It’s driven to get back to the refinery and keep its true nature secret.
A pirate (Aggregate) thrown overboard for plotting a mutiny against their superior. They don’t speak the Players’ language, but they are driven to blend in an get to Bastion.
An unconscious diver thrown from their submersible during an implosion. They now know that Captain Mooney has been lying to them, and they are driven to get revenge.
A drowning fisher who fled the Church of the Deep. They had bought into the church’s talk of ecological preservation, but when they learned that the church was preparing to go to war with the Booth Company they fled (d6 werepuffins are in pursuit, intent on silencing them).
A disoriented ranger thrown from their watercraft while pursuing a wayward school of buffalo shrimp. They’re driven to find the school and get back to the Farm.
Sanctuary. A colossal wall of opaque, salt-stained glass and a constant patrol of mounted guards separate one wealthy Bastionite’s passion project from the rest of the Surge: an aquatic-equine haven and the home of a retired, prize-winning race-seahorse called Nightheart.
Mounted Guard HP 3 Driven to protect the Sanctuary for money. Armour 1 (Life Preserver) Rifle (d10, Bulky)
Sea Horse HP 5 Driven to graze on ocean plants. STR 11, DEX 12, CHA 6 Bite (d6)
Fort. Cracked, rime-covered stone in which a dozen arcane artists diligently hone their skills. These apprentices learn from an electric tattoo machine and are very exclusive, only take clients willing to get the tattoo they need to practice. £500 each.
ARCANE TATTOOSRoll d6
Swallows. Hands. Push a powerful gust of wind capable of knocking back people close to you.
Anchor. Legs. You cannot be moved by force.
Eightball. Scalp. Once per day, force the Conductor to re-roll any roll and take the new result.
Snake. Stomach. Immune to poison and other harmful effects from consumption.
Rose. Neck. Once per day, touch a target and influence their mind. They can make a CHA save to resist the hypnotism.
Lighthouse. Back. See perfectly through fog and other volumes (smoke, mist, etc.)
Apprentice HP 9 Driven to master their craft. CHA 14 Tattoo Gun (d6), marked on Critical Damage Marked. Permanent d6 CHA loss (minimum of 1) until the mark is removed by a Specialist. Tattoos. Each apprentice has two tattoos (2d6).
Tattoo Machine HP 15 Driven to remake reality with its art. Armour 1 (Stickered-up chassis), STR 12, DEX 4, CHA 16 Tattoo Guns (d8), marked on Critical Damage Marked. Permanent d8 CHA loss (minimum of 1) until the mark is removed by a Specialist. Tattoo Master. Capable of bestowing Master Tattoos. Ropey Limbs. Can attack up to three targets at a time.
MASTER TATTOOS Roll d6
Demon. Back. Attackers gain +d8 when attacking the same target as you.
Dragon. Neck. Breathe fire (d6, Blast).
Ship. Stomach. Carry one extra Bulky item.
Angel of the Battlefield. Scalp. Advantage on saves against Critical Damage.
Shield. Legs. +1 Armour when standing perfectly still.
Reaper. Hands. Once per day, touch a target. If they fail a STR save, they lose d12 STR. If they succeed, you each lose d6 STR.
Signal Tower. A floating tower of rusted steel, dangling copper, and flashing red. The site of a defunct, conspiratorial broadcast called Truth 87.9. The sleepless, twenty-four hour host Smokey Joe claims to have a magic hourglass that alters the passage of time.
Church of the Deep. A frozen driftwood sanctuary where Father Mercado leads 30 evangelical sailors. They’ve allied with Angel (Public House) against the Booth Company; these “Watchers of the Deep” craft explosives from the raw chaos mined in the ice caves below the church.
The Fogburner. An expedition ship trapped in ice for over 150 years, now the fortified home of famed explorer Ellis Hudson. Hudson has lived well beyond his natural lifespan—a feat that can be attributed to the arcane artefacts still frozen with the ship’s submerged cargo hold.
Pirates. Operating out of a hidden cove, criminal maths sorcerers from a distant star called Angor use rhythm machines to fold spacetime and travel instantly across the Surge. King Uptza scours the Deep for a hidden prize—and the Downbeat Commanders piloting his three advanced pirate ships know better than to ask what it is…
