Bath Imaginable

Adventure Design, Storytelling, Reflections

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  • Lost Citadel of the Scarlet Minotaur | SoloDark

    I tried playing SoloDark this week with three Level 1 characters delving into the Lost Citadel of the Scarlet Minotaur.

    • Each time I consulted the oracle die is separated from the text.

    ***Some descriptive location text and dungeon elements are adapted from or closely paraphrase the Shadowdark RPG Quickstart Set and the Lost Citadel of the Scarlet Minotaur by Kelsey Dionne. All narration, character actions, and solo play outcomes are my own.

    Art by Pierre-Yves Tremois

    Yipnag–goblin scholar and robber–has recruited an unlikely duo of dungeon crawlers to help him recover the Essence of Malfune. It’s somewhere within the Lost Citadel, but no one knows where.

    The crawlers? Brom, a dwarf warrior who grew up brawling on city streets and Nimed, an elf acolyte from the forest adorned in wildflowers carrying a knotted staff.

    The group travels across the shimmering, emerald sea to the island of the Lost Citadel. There’s a tiny, coastal village in the shadow of its red cliffs where locals warn of opportunistic, grey-furred beastmen haunting the citadel. It’s rife with secret rooms and passageways.

    Yipnag scrawls notes, pushing his spectacles up his greasy, pointed nose. Brom scoffs–he’s never met a beast or a man he couldn’t intimidate. Nimed looks toward the arid scrublands beyond the village.

    • Is there somewhere safe to stay in the village? No, but Brom is comfortable sleeping on the streets and finds a secure alley between the leaning, sandstone buildings.
    • Is there an encounter in the night? No, but there’s strange noises in the darkness of the city.
    • Rolled on Low District Encounters–100! A dropped magic item glitters inside a filthy gutter.

    Ancient Turtle Armor
    1 Benefit, 1 Curse. 1 Virtue, 1 Flaw.
    Leather Armor with turtle shell plating, +0
    Once per day, deflect range attacks that would hit you.
    Beneficial spells that target you are hard to cast (DC 18).
    Gladly translates primordial for its wearer.
    Insists on being reunited with its creator, living or dead.
    Charming personality.

    • Is the armor’s creator in the village? Yes, but he’s dead.

    Yipnag wears the armor, but quickly understands why it was dropped in the gutter. It’s politely begging to be brought to the graveyard and be reunited with its maker. Yipnag reassures the armor it will be useful for reading primordial in the Lost Citadel, and the group rests.

    Marching to the Lost Citadel
    Cicadas buzz in the arid scrubland around the citadel.

    • Is there anything outside the citadel? No, but there’s tracks leading in.
    • Are they beastman tracks? No, but they are person-sized.
    • Do the characters know about the other entrances? No, but they look around and find them.

    The characters decide to enter the main entrance of the citadel, carved with bucking bulls mid-leap.

    Round 1
    Nimed casts light on his staff and motions for Brom to lead the way. Brom marches toward the door and listens. Yipnag lights a torch.

    • Does Brom hear anything on the other side of the door? Yes, but it’s getting quieter.

    “It’s moving away from us,” Brom hisses. “Let’s wait.”

    Round 2
    Brom opens the door quickly and quietly. The walls are floor-to-ceiling murals painted in vibrant jewel tones. They sparkle in the light of Nimed’s staff. Brom’s bulky shadow is stretched across red pillars, tapered and banded in black marble at the top and bottom. Brom moves to the back of the room to look behind the pillars, and to cover his allies’ entrance.

    “Come on,” he hisses.

    Nimed enters next, fully illuminating the room.

    “All clear,” he announces.

    Yipnag studies the murals by his torchlight. They depict people in white robes kneeling in a room of red pillars before a colossal, onyx bull with horns lowered.

    “Anything about Malfune?” Nimed asks softly.

    “No,” Yipnag says, “but this must be the place.”

    • Does the source of the noise return from Area 2? No.
    • Does anyone notice the hidden niche behind the bull statue? No.

    Round 3
    Nimed leads the way left into a room filled with terracotta jars. The air has a sulfuric smell. There is the sound of faint squeaks and hisses. To the south, white jagged lines gouge the stone. Nimed takes a closer look: “RIP Orwyn the Younger… There might be danger on the other side of this door.” Nimed scans the jars, each sealed with cork and wax. They’re stamped with images of people carving wheat and scythes. “Let’s move on,” Nimed clutches at his holy symbol of Gede–a wooden sheaf of wheat.

    The group keeps moving.

    Twin halls, a weighty stone bowl in each. Murals depict peasants pouring jars of gold coins and wheat into massive, grey bowls. Red-armored warriors with bronze spears supervise.

    “Offering bowls,” Yipnag suggests.

    “Offerings for what?” Brom asks, his hand firm on the hilt of his longsword.

    • Does anyone leave an offering? Yes, but Nimed leaves a flower. No effect.

    Round 4
    “Watch out!” Yipnag hisses, “there’s someone behind the offering bowl!” The goblin crouches and points at a middle-aged human crouched behind the southeast bowl.

    “Don’t hurt me!” The man cries out. He stands up, looks into the offering bowl. He picks up the dried flower. “Lamia’s grass,” he smiles as he eats it. “Please, I’m just an old herbalist, Giuseppe Baldini.”

    “Why are you here?” The group asks.

    “I came in here looking for treasure, what’s it to you?” The crochety old man spits.

    • Does Giuseppe join the group? Yes.

    “It’s not safe here, especially for a weak old man. You should go.” Brom insists.

    Giuseppe isn’t intimidated. He’s seen worse–the Scarlet Minotaur. A savage minotaur drenched in blood stalks the citadel’s halls.

    “We’re safer in a group, trust me…”

    There’s a door to the north, and a door to the west.

    • Does Giuseppe know which way leads to the heart of the Citadel? No, he’s completely lost.

    The characters decide to scout ahead each way, peeking through the north and east doors. Each way is clear of danger, but the east is a labyrinth of narrow, tall corridors. Easy to get lost. The group chooses north.

    Round 5
    The characters march forward through a narrow hall wrapping around the centre of the citadel. It terminates at a wooden door. Yipnag peeks through the door. A lengthy, moonlit central courtyard. A bull statue, twenty-feet tall, black onyx with rippling muscles. Horns lowered and dotted with white.

    The Scarlet Minotaur, a hulking beast covered in shining black blood. It wields a glistening greataxe. Steam rises from its heavy breaths and disappears into the stars above.

    “We should go back,” Giuseppe warns. Yipnag tries to close the door quietly. Everyone holds their breath. Silence.

    “Now what?” Brom mouths.

    Everyone looks to Yipnag.

    “I thought you wanted treasure, Giuseppe?” Yipnag starts, “I saw a good deal of treasure piled at the minotaur’s feet… You should distract it. You got away from it before. The three of us will grab the treasure, and meet you outside.”

    “No way,” Giuseppe says, “I barely got away last time. Why don’t you distract the minotaur, while I grab the treasure. How do you like that?”

    “Fine,” Yipnag says. “I’ll distract the minotaur-“

    “Yipnag, don’t, we can go around.” Nimed suggests.

    “No, I’m small, I can get away from it. No doubt one of those doors circles back around. But that’s not the hard part–your job will be the hard part. You have to search through the treasure and find something that points us toward Malfune.”

    “What’s Malfune?” Giuseppe asks.

    “How will we know it when we find it? You’re the expert,” Brom says.

    “He was a powerful sorcerer,” Yipnag says, “anything magical might have been made by him. Grab anything odd.”

    “Screw that,” Giuseppe spits, “I’m grabbing some of those jewels and scramming.”

    “That’s fine with me,” Yipnag says, “just don’t get in my way.”

    Round 6
    Yipnag swings open the door, stepping into the central courtyard with his torch held high. The minotaur turns and charges before Yipnag can act! It moves shockingly fast, its horns dip low scattering the red dust on the ground. Its horn strikes Yipnag in the chest, goring him in an instant and pinning him against the shattered wall behind him.

    “Gede help us!” Nimed lunges forward, his staff blinding the minotaur as he reaches for Yipnag. He pulls Yipnag from the horns of the beast and places his hands on over the goblin’s bleeding wounds. “Gede, please.” Nimed’s tears fall, sparkling as they descend toward his healing hands. Yipnag’s eyes shoot open. His life restored.

    Brom grabs Giuseppe and barges forward through the doorway. He throws Giuseppe toward the hulking minotaur–“unhand me!” The old man cries as he crumbles to the dirt.

    Brom drags Yipnag back toward the black bull statue at the end of the courtyard. Nimed stands between the minotaur and his allies.

    • Does the minotaur ignore Giuseppe? Yes, but Giuseppe doesn’t leave he hides behind a pillar.

    Round 7 *Chaos Mode–Re-rolled Initiative*
    Yipnag looks behind him, thirty human skulls in various states of rot punched onto horns like necklace beads. Some have traces of grey fur. A pile of trampled and crushed bones, metal, and broken weapons are left at the feet of the statue.

    “We have to run!”

    Yipnag turns to his right and pushes through the door into a bas-relief hall. Brom and Nimed follow. Brom closes the door and begins hammering iron spikes into the ground. “This won’t keep that thing out for long!”

    Nimed pokes his glowing staff against a gangly-furred person sprawled out on the ground facedown. He holds a lumpy burlap sack. Yipnag picks it up and peeks inside.

    “Dead rats.” Yipnag drops the bag onto the floor.

    In the courtyard the minotaur turns on Giuseppe–with a swift swing of its greataxe, Giuseppe is cleaved in two. The minotaur turns toward the door. It won’t budge, but the minotaur swings its axe. The door is mostly broken down after two swings.

    “We are leaving!” Brom shouts at his allies, picking them up from the floor.

    Art by Eric Lofgren

    Round 8 *Chaos Mode–Re-rolled Initiative*
    The beastman on the floor is woken by the smashing door. It jumps to its feet. Sees the characters, its suspicious, but there’s no time. The minotaur is coming!

    “This way,” the beastman hisses. It picks up its bag of dead rats and crawls toward the northwest corner of the room. It pulls back a false piece of the mosaic wall and reveals a secret passage. It slips inside, leaving the passage open.

    Brom and Nimed look to Yipnag. He grips his torn armor, one of its turtle-shell plates is shattered. I just want to be with my maker… Please, I beg you. The armor whispers to him.

    “What choice do we have? Go. Go!” Yipnag shouts. The group slips into the secret passage and closes it behind them. They hear the minotaurs hulking footprints through the false wall. It grows closer and closer until it passes and disappears down the corridor.

    Round 9
    The characters are met with the smell of damp fur and filth. Within the walls of the citadel, fifteen hunched grey-furred humanoids chew on centipedes and snarl in harsh whispers. One lounges on a mat of rat pelts, picking his teeth. The beastman lumbers toward it holding the dead-rat-bag with outstretched paws: “Rogath, for you.”

    Rogath stands, tall and scarred, the biggest beastman by far. “I have enough rats, Brell,” he says softly. He pushes Brell aside and steps forward toward the characters. He lifts his paw to shield his eyes from the light of Nimed’s staff.

    Yipnag extinguishes and discards his torch among the littered bones and splintered wood littering the secret hall.

    “I’m much more interested in these outsiders you’ve brought, who are they?”

    “They were fighting the minotaur, brother.” Brell whispers.

    • Do the characters speak quietly? Yes, but it’s still not quiet enough.

    “We were running from the minotaur, actually.” Brom says.

    “Quiet your voices,” Rogath hisses, baring his fangs, “we survive by staying quiet.” Rogath steps forward. Sniffs Brom’s beard.

    “Watch it,” Brom says.

    “I don’t like you,” Rogath whispers. “I think I’ll eat you once the minotaur has killed you.”

    Brom reaches for his blade.

    “Brom,” Yipnag says, “don’t.” The group is surrounded by snarling beastman. Their leader snarls proudly.

    “Thank you for your hospitality, Rogath, we’ll leave now.” Yipnag whispers.

    “Beetle,” Rogath whispers to a scuttling, almost-hairless beastman, “watch where they go. Bring their meat back for the group.”

    “Tee-hee!”

    Round 10
    The group steps outside the secret passage. Yipnag lights a new torch as the light from Nimed’s staff begins to fade. Nimed whispers a prayer and further restores Yipnag’s wounds. Brom listens for the minotaur.

    • Did the minotaur keep going beyond the next room? No, but its still further from the courtyard.

    The group decides to rush through the broken door, past Giuseppe’s bisected corpse glistening in the moonlight, and through the door across the courtyard.

    • Did the minotaur hear them moving? No.

    Yipnag secures the door behind them with iron spikes. The corridor turns sharply to the left. Yipnag leads the way.

    Round 11
    The group marches straight but there’s the sound of a bloody clash in the corridor ahead. Hissing, yelping, and screeches. Around the corner, two wounded beastmen claw and bite and a lanky spiderfolk–an ettercap.

    • Is the ettercap between the characters and the beastmen? No, but the characters have marched straight between the beastmen and the ettercap.

    “This is our chance to win favor with Rogath,” Yipnag whispers.

    “Stay back, beastmen! Let us kill this wretched thing.” Brom declares.

    The ettercap acts fast, crawling onto the ceiling of the corridor. It sprays a stinking web at Brom. It lands at his feet.

    “Ha!” Brom laughs. “Get down here, you weakling!”

    Brom ties his grappling hook to rope and begins twirling it. “I’m going to get ya!”

    The grappling hook bounces off of the stone as the ettercap skitters back, hissing.

    “Let me try,” Nimed says as he grasps the rope. The grappling hook disappears into the darkness, the rope falls limp on the floor. “Damn it!”

    Yipnag takes a knee, sets his torch carefully on the floor, and readies an arrow. It cracks against stone, missing.

    The beastmen hoot and holler. The whip stones from their slings. The ettercap shrieks.

    • Does it fall to the floor? No, but it almost did. It fails a subsequent morale check.

    The ettercap skuttles away along the ceiling and disappears into the shadows.

    Round 12
    The beastmen are called Bugg and Ludo. Bugg is stooped and short, he scratches at his wounds. Ludo is missing a tooth, he creeps back away from Yipnag’s light.

    “We don’t want to hurt you,” Nimed says.

    “But we will if we have to!” Brom boasts.

    “We’re looking for something,” Yipnag says, “it’s called the Essence of Malfune. Do you know where that is?”

    • Do the beastman know about Malfune? Yes, but they only know he was a great sorcerer-warrior of the past.

    “Long ago,” Bugg explains, “we were warriors. But we must stay in the citadel, stay quiet. There are statues of our ancestors, that way.”

    The beastman point to where the ettercap retreated.

    “Let’s go.”

    Round 13
    The characters proceed to the Hall of Kings, where three alcoves contain bronze, lifelike statues of men on raised pedestals. They’re draped in robes, wearing diadems with pearls. Each holds a weapon. There’s no sign of the ettercap, it must have retreated even further.

    “Finally,” Brom says, “some damn treasure.”

    “Trapped,” Yipnag points to the statues joints. Cracks from repeated articulation.

    “Can you disarm them?” Nimed asks.

    “It’ll take some time…”

    There’s heavy footsteps from down the hall.

    “I don’t know if we have time.” Nimed says. “The minotaur is coming!”

    “It’s perfect!” Yipnag declares, “we can use these traps to kill the minotaur!”

    “Have you lost your damned mind?” Brom replies, “that’s insane, we need to run.”

    The footsteps are growing louder.

    Yipnag sets his torch on the floor of the doorway. Steps back; he nocks an arrow and waits for the minotaur to turn the corner.

    “Position yourselves in the corner,” he orders the others, “force the minotaur to put its back to the traps!”

    The minotaur turns the corner, its damp fur reflects the amber torchlight.

    Round 14 *Chaos Mode–Re-rolled Initiative*
    The minotaur charges! With unnatural speed it hurls itself toward Yipnag with its horns lowered. Yipnag is gored for the second time, the light leaves his eyes.

    • Is the minotaur in position to be struck by the trap? Yes, but Yipnag will be struck as well.

    “Do… it…” Yipnag coughs up blood.

    Brom rushes the minotaur, swinging his longsword and pressing his shield against it, backing it up toward the trap. The minotaur effortlessly deflects his strikes. Yipnag is crushed and killed.

    “Oh no!” Brom gasps.

    Nimed steps around the minotaur and carefully touches his staff to the pearl imbedded in the statue. The statue lunges forward, striking its greataxe toward the minotaur. The minotaur turns in time to deflect the trap with its shimmering axe.

    “This is it…” Nimed gasps, “we’re going to die.”

    Round 15 *Chaos Mode–Re-rolled Initiative*

    The minotaur swings its axe against Brom. The dwarf deflects the first swing with his shield. He’s struck on the backswing, knocking his shield to the side. Brom is struck a third time and brought to his knee.

    “You’re doing great, Brom!” Nimed shouts, “this time the trap will hit him!”

    “Screw this,” Brom says, “I want to live.” He runs from the minotaur, into the next room–into the unknown.

    Nimed follows, casting light upon his staff.

    Round 16 *Chaos Mode–Re-rolled Initiative*

    The cave ahead is chilly and damp, its ceiling high and covered in dripping stalactites. A pool of crimson, murky water occupies the centre of the cave. An injured ettercap clings from the ceiling, hissing at the characters.

    Before they can act, Brom is gored from behind by the stampeding minotaur and killed.

    The ettercap skuttles toward the mouth of the cave, fleeing at the site of the minotaur.

    Nimed rushes to Brom’s side, tries to heal his wounds–manages to barely bring Brom back from the brink of death.

    “We have to move!” Nimed runs for the mouth of the cave, circling around the minotaur.

    Round 17 *Chaos Mode–Re-rolled Initiative*

    Brom rushes to catch up to Nimed, watching as his wounds magically close. The two run as fast as they can straight through the Hall of Kings, jumping over Yipnag’s body, and dashing straight down the hall.

    The minotaur lumbers behind them, roaring and thrashing its axe against the sandstone walls.

    Round 18 *Chaos Mode–Re-rolled Initiative*

    “Brom, I can see light!” As they continue to run, the characters see a shaft of moonlight at the bottom of some crumbling steps ahead. “It’s a way out!”

    A skeleton blocks their path! A dead adventurer, wearing tattered chains. Its bones are stark white in the moonlight.

    Nimed holds his holy symbol out: “be gone, undead fiend!”

    His prayers go unanswered. The skeleton lurches forward.

    “I’ll handle this,” Brom steps forward swinging his sword. He misses, the metal of his blade clinks against the stone. The skeleton swings its shortsword weakly at Brom’s shield, pressing against them and blocking their path in the tight corridor.

    “This fucking skeleton is going to get us killed, Nimed!”

    The minotaur appears behind them, its close enough to charge. It lowers its horns and… Nimed is gored by the minotaur, his ribs flayed open before Brom’s eyes.

    “Saint Terragnis save me,” Brom whispers.

    Round 19 *Chaos Mode–Re-rolled Initiative*
    The minotaur throws Nimed to the side and swings its axe on Brom. Everything goes dark.

  • Return to Marin’s Hold

    Seven Level 6 player characters (PCs) finish their adventure in Marin’s Hold…

    Artist Unknown

    When last we left our heroes, they had decided to kill Judge Eamon and help Sister Jules turn Marin’s Hold toward Shune the Vile.

    Yarknig reunites with the group; the priest of Shune that helped destroy Mugdulblub has been hiding in the Bone Cave with the witches.

    “Take her with you,” Sister Jules offers, “she is one of Shune’s most devoted worshippers.”

    The characters return to Marin’s Hold in time for the following sunset. Thanks to Sister Jules’ raven familiar, they know Judge Eamon’s routine–each evening he escorts Reeve Tarley Winters to the Church of Gede for the sunset sermon, but because he can’t stand to listen to the priest he always goes to the Crayfish Tavern to drink alone until the sermon is finished. That’s where the PCs will strike.

    To get through the gate, Leledish casts a spell on a guard on duty near the docks. He opens the gates and lets the group into town before he’s released from Leledish’s grip. With no memory of the last few minutes, he wanders back to his post confused.

    The PCs move directly to the tavern; the half-orcs, Auglud and Grant, make the patrons leave. Ipshroom sits in a wingback chair by the fire. Grant climbs to the rafters and waits above. Yarknig and Auglud sit at the bar, their backs to the entrance. Leledish hides in the stairwell, Röylat ducks behind the bar, and Hald Frogley waits by the door to block the Judge’s exit.

    When Judge Eamon strolls into the bar and sees there’s no bartender, he pours himself to an ale. He takes a sip, and looks around.

    “Where is everyone?” He asks. The foam settles on his brew. Ipshroom watches Judge Eamon’s reflection in a polished platter on the mantle. Yarknig’s eyes flicker to Auglud’s. Now’s their chance!

    But Judge Eamon reaches for his blade.

    Ipshroom jumps to his feet and launches a crossbow bolt straight into Judge Eamon’s chest. Grant drops from above, Röylat lunges over the bar, Auglud and Yarknig tackle Judge Eamon. Judge Eamon masterfully deflects each subsequent attack.

    Hald Frogley steps forward from the shadows behind the door, lifts a wand from his cloak and uses the power of his mind to lift Judge Eamon from the floor. He telekinetically pushes Judge Eamon back into the corner of the room. Judge Eamon curses Ipshroom and Yarknig, both of them grip their heads in blinding pain.

    Once Judge Eamon is held aloft by Hald Frogley’s telekinesis, the group wastes no time. Röylat drives her blade through his chest, Auglud follows with an axe to the spine, and Grant finishes the work with a whisper to Shune the Vile. Judge Eamon’s body twitches, burns from the inside out, and collapses into a heap of scorched armor.

    A shadow crosses the window. Sister Jules arrives, teleporting through her raven familiar. The air ripples as she steps from the bird’s shadow into the room.

    “It’s time,” she says, her silver hair flickering in the candlelight. “The Reeve must be turned to Shune.”

    Outside, Reeve Tarley Winters is on his way back to the hold. Leledish stretches out a trembling hand and speaks a few words of puppeteering magic. The Reeve’s eyes glaze over. His steps falter. Under Leledish’s control, Winters walks into the tavern.

    Guards gather outside, uncertain. Inside, Sister Jules presses her palms to the Reeve’s temples. Black tendrils of smoke curl around her fingers as she whispers vile incantations. When she opens her eyes again, they burn crimson.

    “Reeve Winters,” she commands softly.

    “Yes… my lady,” he answers.

    Outside, the guards hear his voice: “Stand down! Stand down!”

    *

    In the days that follow, Sister Jules consolidates power. The Church of Gede is emptied, the banners of St. Ydris are torn down. Her witches move openly through the streets of Marin’s Hold. The terrified villagers do not resist.

    The PCs meet with Sister Jules in the reclaimed chapel. She outlines their next task: “The Knights of St. Ydris are Almazzat’s tether to the Gloaming. Kill St. Ydris the Unholy, and we sever that link forever.”

    She sends a company of guards north to attack the Greywall Priory. The assault is swift and merciless. The surviving knights retreat to the catacombs below, led by Inquisitor Justinia Morvin.

    When the PCs descend into the candlelit basement, Justinia stands with the last of her Knights, her sword raised.

    “You don’t understand,” she pleads. “St. Ydris is possessed by Almazzat. If you kill him, you free the archdemon. He is the prison.”

    Röylat doesn’t hesitate; she’s come too far to stop now.

    Her blade flashes. Justinia Morvin falls. Hald Frogley raises his hand, lightning crackling from his fingertips, and the remaining knights collapse to the floor, their armor smoking.

    At the heart of the priory, they find St. Ydris, an ancient man chained within a glowing circle, his flesh carved with runes and bleeding endlessly. His eyes are white, he chants in diabolic and taunts the PCs to destroy him.

    The party ignores St. Ydris and loots the vault of gold and relics while Sister Jules and her witches gather the Knights’ sacred texts, the last records of their order. One by one, the grimoires are cast into a growing pile.

    Sister Jules steps forward and touches the saint’s brow. A flash of red light. The scent of sulfur and burning incense. St. Ydris is destroyed, reduced to ash. When the screams end, the silence of the Greywall Priory is absolute.

    The Knights of St. Ydris are no more.

  • Escape from Marin’s Hold

    Our heroes stand bloodied in the aftermath of a fierce battle with Knight Marshal Yslen. Röylat holds her head in her hands. Pounding tension; lost memories return in nauseating waves.

    “We have to get out of here,” Brunhilda says, shivering. “Please, I’ll take you to Sister Jules. She can help you.”

    A young guard stumbles up from below, his tunic torn and his shield splattered with black bile.

    “They’re all dead!” He screams. “We have to-“

    The guard stops when he sees Knight Marshal Yslen dead on the floor. His eyes flicker to the stairs. “I can get you out of here,” the guard says sheepishly.

    The PCs share a look. They lock him in Brunhilda’s cell–“please,” he begs, “you can’t leave me here. It’ll get me.”

    The PCs descend back into the canals below. Back to the Possessed One. Knight Marshal Yslen cools in her armor.

    Below, the Possessed One sits by its runes eating from the chest cavity of a dead man. It uses its free hand to paint diabolic runes in blood while it chews shiny flesh. The summoning ritual is nearly complete.

    “Don’t hurt Wallow, he’s not well!”

    Hald Frogley lifts a Wand of Telekinesis from his bag. Concentrating on Wallow, he lifts him from the floor and suspends him in the air. Röylat and Auglud bind the writhing, demonic mutant catfish. They hand Wallow over to the other mutant catfish waiting below. They can’t save him, but he and his family have a chance.

    Before they resurface, Leledish gives Brunhilda a Potion of Invisibility so she can sneak out of town and meet up with the group outside the walls. The guards outside the sinkhole are none-the-wiser as the PCs emerge, but Judge Eamon is looking for them.

    “He wanted to have a drink with you tonight,” the guards say.

    In the Crayfish Tavern, Judge Eamon sits with a couple of guards, a foaming mug of ale in his hand. “Sit, drink.” He’s hospitable, he asks the group about their investigation at the apothecary.

    The PCs lie for the witches, they say they found nothing. Judge Eamon can see the disgust in Röylat’s eyes. “Let’s take a walk,” he says.

    “I can see you know the truth…” The Judge begins. Outside, he casually confesses that he and the other Knights in Marin’s Hold have broken their oath. Judge Eamon is one of Almazzat’s Blackguard; mortals who betray their own for a place at Almazzat’s feet.

    “Almazzat believes mortals and demons can live in harmony, like wolf and sheep,” Judge Eamon explains, “those of us who are strong can be the shepherds. We will lose some, but that is nature.”

    The PCs (briefly) consider the advantages of siding with Almazzat and the demons before shaking their heads in unison.

    “Almazzat has come to the Gloaming for a reason,” Judge Eamon reveals, “it’s looking for something here. Only it knows what…”

    The PCs manage to save face with Judge Eamon, but they commit to siding with the witches. Outside the walls, they reunite with Brunhilda and travel to the Bone Cave.

    The group waits under Leledish’s starry witch light at the edge of the river and watch as a slow-moving ferry approaches through the mist. The ferryman, now stone-cold and silent, extends his hand–this time there’s a toll.

    The PCs hand over a bag of gold. He spills them into the river and invites them aboard. As he rows upriver, the mist becomes so thick they can barely see. Then, the ferryman is gone.

    Leledish sends his witch light out into the mist ahead. There’s a shadow of a giant being with elongated limbs moving through the river toward the ferry. Someone screams. In a blink it’s gone.

    “What is that?” Brunhilda asks.

    “Don’t look,” Ipshroom warns. “The Willowman…” He describes what happens to those who look. Brunhilda gasps in fear.

    A creaking moan across the river betrays the Willowman’s satisfaction. But still, it moves closer. The ferry begins to rock back and forth turbulently. Grant draws his longsword and takes a defensive stance. Hald Frogley tries to cast a protective ward. Leledish preys to Memnon for guidance.

    The Willowman appears: elongated limbs, no face, each limb a knotted scythe. It raises a finger as thin and wicked as a reed and points at Grant. The branch snaps forward, a precise, needle-like strike aimed at the temple.

    Grant deflects the branch with the flat of his blade. The willowy finger tings against steel and ricochets into the mist. Wood dust rains down like ash.

    Leledish is not so lucky.

    The willowy finger slides through the air with a terrible patience and finds his head. Brain matter and river-spray splash against the raft. The PCs turn in unison, horror flattening their faces.

    Hald Frogley staggers under a third blow but manages to hold on, clutching at his robes. Röylat screams and covers her mouth. Auglud curses and hauls Brunhilda close.

    In a blink, the Willowman is gone again. Not far, though.

    The river is silent, save the group’s pounding heartbeats.

    “It wants fear,” someone whispers.

    Everyone drops to their knees. For a long moment the Willowman stands silently. Another creaking groan. It inhales and, somehow, the mist listens.

    When the fog clears, Leledish is standing. He wipes something from his brow and praises Memnon under his breath. “Not today,” he whispers.

    The Willowman watches them a heartbeat longer and, with a hollow, wood-gnawed sigh, slips into the pale and is gone.

    They reach the Bone Cave, where the exterior is littered with brittle bones. Supposedly it’s home to a pack of werewolves.

    Inside, a dozen witches huddle around a dwindling flame. Their faces are worn, wary, ready. Victoria, the only werewolf left, lounges in the shadows, her eyes are haunted, her voice soft and broken when she speaks of the hag Drusilla and her children stolen into the Fey.

    Sister Jules waits at a candlelit shrine to Shune the Vile. She’s a silver-haired elf with arcane tattoos spiraling over her hands like roots. A raven–the very same that watched the PCs in town–perches on the shrine’s edge and cocks its head.

    “I’ve been watching you,” Sister Jules smiles without warmth.

    She tells them of Shune’s designs: Shune wants Almazzat halted in the Gloaming. There is more at stake than Marin’s Hold. Sister Jules knows the Knights’ secret: St. Ydris has more in common with Almazzat than the people of Marin’s Hold would like.

    “The Knights of St. Ydris must be destroyed,” she declares. “Their blood is Almazzat’s connection to the Gloaming. But first we must take Marin’s Hold…”

    Her proposal is blunt: unmake Judge Eamon’s influence over the Reeve and turn Marin’s Hold toward Shune the Vile. Judge Eamon must be removed.

    The PCs agree.

    Judge Eamon will die tonight.

  • The Witches of Boot Hill

    TROGRUG

    For the crime of HERESY you have been sentenced to die.

    You have chosen death by CRUSADE.

    As ST. YDRIS was judged and found worthy through blood, so may you seek the same mercy in battle.

    Should you survive, report to me in MARIN’S HOLD for your final reward.

    JUDGE EAMON

    By seal and sanction of INQUISITOR JUSTINIA MORVIN I issue this judgement. Go forth, son, and walk the path of St. Ydris the Unholy.

    Artist Unknown

    Five survivors from the Hideous Halls of Mugdulblub make their way to Marin’s Hold. There used to be a bridge, but it was destroyed when demons began hatching from the black marrow trees years ago…

    They wait for the ferryman in the misty grass at the edge of Finimere Lake.

    Hald Frogley, halfling wizard, his third eye bulging behind his left one. Auglud, half-orc fighter with an extra finger poking through her glove. Ipshroom, warlock of the Willowman, branches growing from his face, a third eye in his forehead. Grant, warlock of Shune the Vile, covered in arcane runes. Leledish, Gloaming witch, freed from beneath Bittermold Keep.

    Also waiting for the ferry is Röylat, Knight of St. Ydris, her chainmail shining faintly through the fog.

    The ferryman appears. Jovial, but uneasy. He tells them he doesn’t cross at night, no matter what they hear.

    “Do people say otherwise?” Leledish asks.

    “Oh, people talk,” the ferryman says. “There’s a lot of gossip on the river. I heard of yous, and your work at Bittermold Keep…”

    The lake ripples once, then stills.

    Credit to Jon Cane for reference image.

    Marin’s Hold is a motte-and-bailey where the river meets the bog. The air smells of rot. The farms outside are ruined. A siege tower blocks the gate, and the bridge over the moat has been torn down.

    The guards at the top let them pass, but when the PCs reach the gate, one look is enough.

    “Hell no,” the guard says, and shuts the spyhole.

    Röylat vouches for the others, they present Trogrug’s papers.

    “Go get Judge Eamon,” the guard says.

    Inside, Judge Eamon welcomes them. He’s pleased to see Röylat. The reward: safety, and a place within Marin’s Hold. No gold. No thanks.

    The town is crowded and paranoid. Villagers whisper in small groups. Livestock wander the muddy streets.

    Judge Eamon explains the situation. Demons breached the gates weeks ago. Twenty dead. Witchcraft attracts them. The Knights traced it to the apothecary. Brunhilda, the apothecary’s owner, was taken for questioning. She’ll be burned at Boot Hill in three nights.

    He tells them to stay at the Crayfish Tavern, and to watch for witchcraft.

    Leledish shifts nervously. Röylat is confused, as a Knight of St. Ydris she was trained to use witchcraft to fight evil… Grant stands still in a cold sweat.

    In his dream last night, Grant was wandering through an impossibly large, dark mansion. Trapped in endless twisting halls his only company the squeaking floorboards beneath his sizable feet. With each step he hears a whisper from Shune the Vile.

    A loyal follower needs help in Marin’s Hold.

    *

    The PCs are suspicious of Judge Eamon and decide to learn more about the captured witch. They search the ransacked apothecary and find a bundle of letters hidden beneath a squeaky floorboard. It’s true: Brunhilda has been spying for a coven of witches hiding in the Bone Cave north of town.

    As the PCs leave the apothecary, they notice a suspicious raven watching from the tree above. A bell rings, the townsfolk flee indoors. Demons.

    The PCs rush to the gatehouse and climb to the rooftop. Standing alongside Knight Marshal Breegan, they watch as a group of seven shamble toward the town. Demons? They’re not sure, they look like people.

    Hald Frogley sneaks ahead to get a closer look: half-eaten, hollowed out carcasses worn by gobbly-eyed raptors with slick feathers and oily skin. The halfling misty steps back to town and warns the others: Skrell demons, known for their cleverness.

    The PCs attack!

    When the demons are dead, Judge Eamon inspects the battlefield. He gives a knowing smile.

    “Sometimes you have to do what’s necessary for the greater good,” he tells them. “It’s the only way we’ll survive.”

    As the sun sets behind the tall trees on the horizon, the PCs drink at the tavern and plot their next move. After resting, they decide to rescue Brunhilda from the dungeon and find out what’s really going on in Marin’s Hold.

    After spending the whole day in the tavern hearing patrons argue about the sinkhole out back and whether or not there’s ancient canals beneath the hold, the PCs decide to check it out for themselves.

    A collapsed cottage, two guards standing watch in case of demons coming up from below. Röylat steps forward, declares she and her party are investigating the hole.

    “Go ahead,” the guards chuckle, “just don’t expect us to follow you in there.”

    The PCs descend into a dank wet cellar where the bricks collapse and reveal a deep cavern. Leledish conjures a bobbing, white star that lights the way.

    They crawl through a narrow passage, stalagmites glistening with condensation. The sound of water grows louder until they reach a small waterfall spilling into a bubbling pool. Dark shapes twist beneath the surface. Röylat stabs her javelin into the pool. To her horror, she pulls from the deep a wailing mutant catfish, limbs flailing. She quickly releases it, and three of its kind jump from the water. They hiss. Their barbs quiver.

    The PCs back off, they mean the creatures no harm. But the catfish refuse to leave, they’re here to protect one of their own. The Possessed One, Wallow, is above the waterfall in the underground canal. They won’t leave him behind.

    The PCs offer to help, they know about demons, so they climb up to the moss-covered canals and take a look. In the dark corner they see a frail, decrepit mutant catfish feverishly carving diabolic runes into the stone walls. It’s frothing at the mouth, its beard tendrils flap around wildly.

    Röylat and Leledish read the diabolic runes. Summoning ritual, but it’s not finished.

    They decide to sneak past the Possessed One and climb the stairs to a secret door into the dungeon. Peeking in, they see a table crowded with guards and Knight Marshal Yslen. A prisoner (Brunhilda) stands in the shadows across the dungeon, locked behind iron bars. And three hounds lift their heads and begin sniffing at the shrine hiding the secret door.

    “What’s that?” Knight Marshal Yslen says to the hounds as she stands from the table.

    Leledish sends his mouse familiar running into the dungeon, it climbs one of the brick pillars and the hounds begin jumping and barking towards it.

    “It’s just a mouse,” the guards sigh.

    Röylat pushes through the secret door and enters the room, announcing her presence. She explains to Yslen that she found the sinkhole and the secret passage, and warns the guards of the summoning ritual below. Yslen sends four of the guards into the darkness below to deal with the Possessed One, and sends the fifth up to the hold to collect Judge Eamon.

    The PCs realize it’s now or never–they have to pick a side.

    “We can’t let you do that,” they say, and it’s initiative.

    Yslen orders the guard to keep going, but Auglud and Grant rush him and cut him to pieces before he can flee.

    Leledish jumps out from behind the secret door, flashes his dagger and stabs at the hounds. Bark, yelp, whimper.

    Knight Marshal Yslen fights like a demon–in fact, she taunts Röylat: “You feel it, don’t you? There’s demon blood in your veins. Don’t resist, give in.”

    Röylat’s head pounds. False memories come rushing back. “No!” She screams, “I’m not a demon!” Her eyes turn inky black, her veins bulge, a sulfurous steam rises from her blade.

    When Knight Marshal Yslen is killed, they free Brunhilda.

    She explains that she is helping a coven of witches to save the town. The Knights of St. Ydris are compromised, Judge Eamon serves Almazzat. They’re burning witches and anyone else powerful enough to resist them.

    Röylat learns the truth–her false memories dissolve as she remembers drinking from the sinewy veins of St. Ydris the Unholy, the Possessed.

    It’s true, the blood of Almazzat runs through her veins.

  • Mugdulblub III | Mugdulpocalypse

    A party of seven Level 3 Player Characters (PCs) fight for their lives within the Hideous Halls of Mugdulblub!

    Art by M.C. Escher

    Session 3 picks up in the black cells beneath Bittermold Keep, where the air tastes of iron and mildew. The PCs free a pair of manacled and mud-caked Howlers with festering wounds. Ignatius and Bron. Ignatius has a third eye in the middle of his forehead. No one asks him about it.

    In the next cell is Leledish, recently captured, but so far unharmed. He had come to Bittermold Keep to investigate ululating cries from deep within the natural caves and after hearing the Howlers hoot and the Bittermolds die, he’s found his answer and joins the PCs in their efforts to stop Mugdulblub.

    Ignatius and Bron beg to return to their fountains. They put a dead catfish in the clear water to remember which one is safe and restorative. The other fountain made Bron spill his guts.

    The door won’t open. Something heavy presses against it from the other side. A faint hiss. The gelatinous cube the party had avoided earlier now blocks the corridor, slowly digesting the wood to slurry.

    The PCs must choose between pushing through the gelatinous cube or sneaking through Mugdulblub’s chamber.

    Hald Frogley, halfling wizard, volunteers to scout ahead. “Halflings are practically invisible,” he says, and creeps toward the chamber where Mugdulblub waits.

    Art by National Aeronautics and Space Administration

    A starry void fills the centre of the chamber. A bottomless, pulsing in the centre of the room. Impossible to tell where the stone ends and the dark begins. A telepathic voice inside Hald Frogley’s mind as he creaks open the door.

    Welcome, Hald Frogley. Come in, I can offer you great power.

    Hald Frogley closes the door.

    The PCs decide to push through the GC. First they burn the door and upon discovering the gelatinous cube is moving toward heat, Trogrug uses his lantern to lure it into a nearby quicksand trap. The cube quivers, shudders, and slips into the muck, vanishing beneath the surface with a single wet sigh.

    The wounded Howlers limp toward their fountains while the PCs march on Gordrock.

    Trogrug and Leledish–each familiar with Diabolic–attempt to copy the inscriptions actively being destroyed by the Howlers.

    Gordrock greets them warmly. He’s pleased. Not only have they delivered the bodies to Mugdulblub like he asked, they rescued his captured Howlers. He is ready to forge an alliance. He wants to join the characters and kill Plogrina Bittermold, but in his visions her magnetic lodestone causes his death every time. He invites the PCs to strategize.

    The PCs try to trick Gordrock into accepting Wrath Bolt but he slurps toxic algae from his pocket and sees through their scheme. Trogrug and Leledish fail to gain insights from the pillars, the Howlers are unrelenting.

    The PCs keep pushing their luck, and it’s initiative.

    Hald Frogley burns half the room with his outstretched hands while the others attack Gordrock. Gordrock dies with the taste of algae still on his tongue. Ipshroom pockets what remains and the surviving Howlers flee into the mist.

    The PCs regroup at the fountains, drinking deeply from the pearly basin. Trogrug’s tusks lengthen, curving like ivory blades. Hald Frogley grows an extra, blinking eye on his forehead.

    They push into the caves beneath Bittermold Keep, where mutant catfish slither through the mud, allowing them to pass through an illusory, shimmering wall. Beyond it lies the crypt and the tomb of Lord Reginald Bittermold himself.

    They smash the glass coffin and find the desiccated corpse within, its ribs split wide around a pulsing red glow. When they cut open the body, the wounds close almost instantly, slurping shut as if the flesh were alive. Auglud hacks the corpse in half, and Leledish snatches the Cloven Heart and presses it into his beard. A surge of power courses through him. His voice deepens, his presence magnifies.

    Leledish reads from a scrap of diabolic parchment, invoking Tzakoru, the demon once deceived by Lord Bittermold. The air splits; a horned figure steps forth, smoke pouring from his mouth. An alliance is struck. When Mugdulblub is destroyed, Tzakoru will take Bittermold Keep and turn the catfish into river demons.

    Art by Sid Hammer

    One problem at a time, the characters figure. Together, they march to confront Mugdulblub.

    But when the demon meets the elder ooze, the chamber erupts in chaos. Mugdulblub’s tendrils lash out, dragging Tzakoru into the dissolving void. The PCs fight through the madness, their bodies mutating under Mugdulblub’s influence. Ipshroom eats a fistful of hallucinogenic mushrooms, chases it with toxic algae. He stumbles backward into a hallucinogenic trance. He dreams of stars and rot. When he wakes, he runs.

    Trogrug is seized by a tendril and pulled screaming into darkness. Hald Frogley, his insides liquefying after waves of psionic onslaught, gathers his strength for one final act. He drinks a potion from his bag. His muscles bulge. He lifts Tzakoru’s axe and cleaves Mugdulblub in two.

    The darkness collapses inward, a whirlpool of black ooze and starlight imploding.

    The survivors flee the collapsing Keep as the Bittermolds rush in, too late to save their beloved ooze.

    Marin’s Hold awaits.

  • Return to the Hideous Halls of Mugdulblub

    Session 2 of the Gloaming opens on six Level 2 PCs marching through the mist-addled forest on their way to Bittermold Keep.

    Art by Benjamin Lander

    Leading the way is Yarknig, goblin priest of Shune the Vile. Shune whispers of a ruby gifted to the late Lord Bittermold by a powerful demon: the Cloven Heart. Behind her is the tree-faced, mutant warlock Ipshoom. He scans the forest, crossbow raised, looking for the source of the ululating cries mentioned by the hunters. Whatever is down there will soon fear the Willowman. The curious halfling wizard Hald Frogley stumbles over a gnarly root, tucks in his shirt, and jogs to join the others.

    Three half-orcs watch the rear: Grant, warlock of Shune, once heard a fisher’s tale of a legged catfish that tore out its own hook; Trogrug, a traitorous Knight of St. Ydris, chose this expedition over the noose; and Auglud, a tuskless knave determined to stop Mugdulblub simply because she hates bullies.

    The PCs search the dissolving masonry on the hill until they find a rusted trapdoor and a set of warped stairs into darkness. Below are two halfling barbarians with sharpened teeth: Howlers. They don’t want a fight. They’re glad the PCs aren’t sneaky Bittermolds.

    “We don’t know why we’re here,” one begins. “Gordrock’s gone insane-”

    His partner cuts him off with a backhand. “Do not insult Gordrock! He is the best of us!”

    The Howlers point out a dark, wet hole in the cracked masonry in the south corner of the room. That’s where the Bittermolds crawl out. That’s what the Howlers are guarding. The players are suitably creeped out but opt to look around before meeting with Gordrock.

    They find a body on a floor engraved with a compass rose, a dead Howler. No injuries, but there’s a silver dagger in his hand. The characters poke around a bit while Grant kneels down to pick up the knife. Grant suddenly drops dead.

    Yarknig rushes to his side and whispers a prayer to Shune the Vile. Grant gasps. Life restored.

    The dagger is called Wrath Bolt, Grant knows. A magic dagger that is deadly to anyone who tries to take it from its previous owner (dead or alive, apparently).

    Auglud moves north, finding an inexplicably cold room and a bowl of frost-covered ash. The PCs throw the dead Howler onto the bowl, spilling ash but otherwise causing no effect. Trogrug inspects the walls and finds an iron key sewn into the crimson banners.

    The PCs promptly move on to a chamber reeking of rot, its walls riddled with twenty pockmarked holes. Peering into one, they find the source of the stench: a sludgy ichor ooze that slurps out, drawn to the warmth of their torchlight. The characters sling spell and steel. Trogrug’s axe melts under the corrosive spray, but the creature is reduced to a bubbling puddle. When another ooze begins to emerge, the party bolts for the next room and slams the door behind them. Not worth it.

    The next chamber holds two fountains: one of pearl, pouring clear water where a five-limbed catfish floats dead; the other of obsidian, spewing milky, acidic runoff. Above them, a warped bas-relief shows a many-fingered man dropping a heart-shaped gem into his mouth. Trogrug deciphers the diabolic script beneath: Lord Bittermold tricks the Demon Tzakoru into handing him the Cloven Heart. Lord Bittermold consumes the Cloven Heart so that even in Death Tzakoru cannot reclaim that which he so desires.

    Ahead, the PCs hear hushed, snarly voices on the other side of the door. There’s flickering torchlight through the crack beneath. Howlers, no doubt.

    The characters decide it’s time to finally meet with Gordrock. They convince the halflings beyond the door to show them the way.

    Ten halflings voraciously eat raw catfish around a campfire. One stands taller than the others with a greatsword on his back. It’s Gordrock Breeg, warlock of Kytheros, here to ensure that Mugdulblub dissolves the Gloaming without interference.

    He explains that the Archdemon Almazzat intends to wrest the Sands of Time from Kytheros. That’s why it sends its minions through the cursed black marrow trees. The Gloaming must be dissolved before Almazzat succeeds.

    Trogrug notices diabolic inscriptions in the pillars throughout the room. The smell of brimstone rises as he reads–summoning ritual, he averts his eyes.

    “I was betrayed once by your kind,” Gordrock says, “crawlers looking for treasure. They led the Bittermolds into our camp.”

    Gordrock points to a handcart with the bodies of four slain adventurers wrapped in cloth. “Take these to Mugdulblub, you must not go empty handed. Mugdulblub will grant you boons, then we can talk alliances.”

    As the Howlers dismantle their barricade the PCs show Gordrock the diabolical inscriptions. He slurps algae from his pocket. His veins bulge; his eyes go milky white.

    “Demons… from there.” He points to the shadowed alcoves at the south end of the hall. He orders his Howlers to destroy the inscriptions.

    Yarknig casts light on the handcart, revealing quicksand ahead. Auglud steers it through the narrow corridor to the right, skirting the danger. From ahead come splashing sounds, and something glints in the crystal pool beyond.

    The Gold One, a golden mutant catfish, splashes merrily in the water. He knows everything about Bittermold Keep; he’s been here this whole time…

    Art by Mark Catesby

    In a flashback we see a normal catfish swimming upriver against the current, Bittermold Keep is visible on a hilltop in the distance, its turrets not-yet-dissolved and its crimson banners not-yet-torn. The catfish continues upriver until it disappears into a cave beneath the castle.

    The catfish enters a pool where something dark bubbles up from the earth below. A starry void grows larger in the reflection of the catfish’s eye as it’s bathed in golden light.

    “I was the first to witness Mugdulblub, you see,” says the Gold One smiling. He strokes at his long shimmering beard tendrils.

    The Gold One isn’t scared, he knows a way into the Feywild Kingdom and plans to escape with his many mates before the Gloaming is dissolved. For now he answers questions about Bittermold Keep for 5gp each. He splashes back and forth over a pile of shimmering coins, a growing offering for Titania, Queen of the Fey, who he thanks for his cruel, wonderful existence.

    The PCs ask where to find the Cloven Heart; swallowed by Lord Reginald Bittermold and entombed with his corpse. How to get there? The stairs to the crypts have collapsed, but there’s an illusory wall somewhere in the natural caves that lead directly to the crypts. How can Mugdulblub be stopped?

    “I’m not sure you can,” the Gold One frowns, “but maybe a demon could, a big one like the one that wants the Cloven Heart.“

    Now the PCs are set on breaking into the Bittermold tomb and recovering the Cloven Heart. After taking a moment to lay the previous expedition members to rest in the quicksand they are on their way to the caves to find this illusory wall.

    Pushing west into Bittermold territory, the PCs encounter rubbery, lank-haired figures stabbing prisoners in a dark jail. They almost look human, but they’ve adapted to the dark and laugh with a wet, guttural glee.

    The PCs lay caltrops for an ambush and surprise the Bittermolds. The manacled halflings hoot and howl and cheer as the PCs cut down the rubbery, slime-filled figures. Ipshoom eats a fistful of hallucinogenic mushrooms and saves against a bad trip; his senses heightened, he declares his name henceforth to be Ipshroom.

    We ended the session after the characters slaughtered the Bittermolds. They found treasure taken from various prisoners over the years, enough to level up.

    Next week they come face to face with Mugdulblub.

  • Adventures in the City

    Art by Harold Anchel

    This weekend I visited Montreal for the first time and spent most of it wandering around aimlessly looking at the sites. Overall I was very charmed. At times I was overwhelmed.

    I thought a lot about Electric Bastionland.

    I thought about the different routes we took, the strange and wonderful encounters we had, and when I got home I decided to work on a Montreal-inspired, mountain borough for Electric Bastionland.

    Montstatique

    Of course, this Mountain Borough will be based on a hazy weekend impression of a major city, not the city itself. But I think that’s how the designer intended the game to feel.

    For now, all I have are my routes.

    Subway (to Bastion). Leads deeper into the city, a starting point (or exit).

    Subway & Streetcar. Fast, unreliable, and mostly underground. Easy to get lost. Connects to borough’s underground.

    Broken Gondola & Bike Path. The gondola used to get you up the mountain pretty fast, but now people bike below it.

    Canal. Runs throughout the borough, connects the mountain lake to the coast.

    Highway Tunnel (to Deep Country). A claustrophobic, noisy tunnel lined with crumbling tiles.

    I never made it to the top of Mount Royal in real life, so I can’t say for sure what’s there, but in this borough its an abandoned museum (abandoned because the gondola is broken, of course) and clubhouse for loud youths.

    Artist Unknown

    I want to define some factions before I commit to any locations on my map. I’m thinking there’s 3 big players in this so-far-unnamed mountain borough.

    Mountain Broadcasting Company. Revolutionary youths broadcast weird hypnoses over radio waves. Recently they stole machine parts from the Union. They’re funded by the Syndicate through fronts throughout the borough.

    Machinists’ Union. Consultants ritualistically rearranging the tangled wires of the broken-down gondola and interpreting divine providence from their everchanging conduction patterns. They’re contractually funded by the City of Bastion for another half-century.

    Canal Syndicate. The Canal is ruled by subterranean monsters hoarding treasure in the Underground. They deal in hallucinogenic river eels and smuggled goods. Recently they sabotaged the Highway Tunnel to seize control of the borough.

    So each faction probably has a headquarters on here somewhere. The Mountain Broadcasting Company obviously operates out of the abandoned museum at the top of the mountain, the radio tower is built on the roof.

    It seems only natural that the Machinists’ Union would have their headquarters near the gondola? Well, it was probably cheaper to rent offices further from the canal and they’re in no hurry to get the gondola working so I’m going to put them in the bottom left corner of the map in some distant warehouse and they commute on bike each morning with all their equipment on their backs.

    The Canal Syndicate will operate at the northernmost intersection of the subway/streetcar and the canal, giving them access to both the canal and the underground. I’m thinking most of their territory will be sketchy storefronts with hidden stairs to the underground.

  • The Fogburner (the Best One-Shot I Ever Shot?)

    Artist Unknown

    For a great one-shot all I really need are three things: (1) a compelling hook, (2) an open-ended problem with no obvious solution, and (3) lots of danger on all sides of the player characters. Bonus points if it all fits on one page.

    The gold standard is Moonbase Blues, which manages to meet all of my criteria. Here’s the pitch: the characters (space truckers) wake up on an unfamiliar moon base with (1) no memory of their arrival, (2) no obvious way to get off of the moon, and (3) a number of eerie astronomy enthusiasts eager for them to stick around and see what’s coming over the horizon in a couple of hours (no spoilers).

    It even fits on single, double-sided piece of paper.

    It was such a great hook I decided to steal it for my own one-shot adventure for Into the Odd.

    This was my second time playing Into the Odd, and when I ran the Iron Coral before I walked away loving the rules but feeling as though the monsters went down too fast to be impactful.

    I made a note to focus on making more threatening monsters for my sophomore outing.

    So, these new characters are heading to Hopesend after hearing about the Iron Coral and hearing about the gold and Arcana inside. They secured passage from Bastion on the Fogburner, an eccentric engineer’s icebreaker. Despite noticing suspicious workers loading a large crate, they have an uneventful first night drifting away from the smog-shrouded city.

    We cut to the characters waking up barricaded within the Captain’s Quarters of the Fogburner with no memory of their journey so far. Carved into the wall (in familiar handwriting, perhaps one of their own): “Escape before you forget again!”

    The Fogburner is trapped in ice, adrift amidst the Polar Ocean. It has been for months.

    So yeah, I stole the concept from Moonbase Blues. But I also stole the setting from the Terror (Season 1) and all the proper nouns from a Cairn adventure I had hoped to run but never found the chance to (the Crypts of Crimson Ice). I even stole the name of a local coffee roast for the titular ship.

    I tend to steal the parts of my game prep I don’t enjoy so I can focus my creative energy on the parts I do enjoy prepping. It’s why I prefer to run pre-published adventures most of the time (that, and because there’s something about it all being written down in a book elsewhere that makes it easier for me to believe in).

    Below you can see my notes for this adventure (they all fit on one double-sided page, by the way).

    In the end, the characters sacrificed themselves to destroy Father Ixtab and end the cycle of forgetting, but only one of them managed to survive and finish his journey to Hopesend.

    The Strong Start
    The characters wake up barricaded within the Captain’s Quarters (1) with no memory of their journey so far. Carved into the wall (in familiar handwriting): “Escape before you forget again!” The Fogburner is trapped in ice, adrift amidst the Polar Ocean.

    1. Captain’s Quarters. Cold and tilted. Dim light filtered through opaque, frozen windows. The room contains a bed, wardrobe, and desk. The door is barricaded from inside.
      *Wardrobe. Captain’s uniform (jacket and hat).
      *Desk. Log detailing uneventful journey for two weeks before crew becomes unreliable, equipment starts to fail, and passengers disappear. Manifest details typical cargo from Bastion (rifles, ammunition, antiquities, pornography) and an iron crate labelled “Ixtab.”
    2. Control Room. Snow drifts beneath shattered windows. Blowing snow swirls around a navigation log left face down open on the tilted floor. Mapping equipment, engine controls, and chronometer are all frozen but otherwise appear undamaged.
      *Navigation Log. The Fogburner took an erratic course. Among the logs are astronomical charts focusing on unfamiliar constellations.
      *Mapping equipment. The Fogburner is far north from Hopesend, deep in the Polar Ocean.
      *Engine controls. Frozen solid. The engine will need to warm up before these controls will work again.
      *Chronometer. Running slightly out of sync. Apparently, it’s been three months since the ship’s departure.
    3. Observation Deck. Polar winds howl across the crooked observation deck, its metal surface now a treacherous ascent. From the top, you glimpse your surroundings through the flurries (map). There’s something half-buried in the snow, and red symbols on the guardrail.
      *Something half-buried. A sextant and Arcana (p. 20)
      *Symbols. Strange runes painted in frozen blood.
    4. Bow. View of frozen ice choppers below and the ocean beyond. It’s early spring. The ice is beginning to thaw.
      *Ice choppers. Covered in a thick layer of ice and snow (one could scale down the exterior hull to access 9).
    5. Stern. Large chunks of ice press tightly against the hull. A trail in the distance leads to the mouth of a dark cave. Frozen steps lead to the lower decks (to 6), and lifeboats are uncovered and filled with snow and frozen bodies.
      *Frozen bodies. d4 frozen husks among the dead!
    6. Hold. Warped, crooked floors. Echoing walls. Piles of pilfered cargo. A large iron crate labelled “Ixtab” radiates an unnatural cold.
      *Pilfered Cargo. Luck roll to find equipment (p. 12).
      *Ixtab. Filled with solid ice. Something has been carved out from its centre, leaving a gaping hole. An Arcana (p. 20) has been left inside among shards of ice. An ice swarm attacks if the Arcana is taken!
    7. Engines. A slanted, frozen labyrinth of seized pistons and fractured gauges. Someone has carved into the walls: “Trust no one, defend the engines.” Harsh whispers echo across the metal.
      *Harsh whispers. The Captain brandishes a flamethrower and a pistol to keep outsiders away from the engines.
    8. Crew Quarters. A network of tilted halls and frozen, ransacked quarters. A frightened passenger raids the kitchen.
      *Ransacked quarters. Check for a wandering encounter. Luck roll for Arcana (p. 20).
    9. Ice Chopper Control Room. A small cave of ice and snow. Light filters in through the gaps between the frozen ice choppers. There’s something crawling in the shadows.
      *Shadows. The Engineer lurks in the shadows. He holds an Arcana (p. 20).
    10. Ice Cave. *DEX Save while crossing the ice or foot plunges into the frigid water (d4 DEX damage). A dimly lit cave hollowed from the ice. A faint blue glow emanates from within.
      *Blue glow. Father Ixtab is frozen in solid ice (no limbs, frostbitten and decrepit). His eyes flicker with intelligence. He is guarded by d6 rime-skinned zealots driven to prove their devotion. Ixtab demands to be worshipped (communicates telepathically).

    Secrets and Clues
    Details to be handed out as a reward for discovery. From the Captain’s logs, the characters’ own notes in crew quarters (8), other frightened passengers, newspaper clippings, etc.

    ❐ The crew of the Fogburner were infiltrated by members of an astral cult known as “the Children of Chalkuk.”

    ❐ Among the cargo from Bastion is an iron crate labelled “Ixtab.” The passengers report hearing whispers from it in the night.

    ❐ The passengers and crew report “lost time” and vivid dreams. Some have gone missing (presumably fallen overboard).

    ❐ “Ixtab” is the name of a man rescued years ago from the Polar Ocean. 

    ❐ Ixtab is a Priest of Chalkuk the Fallen Rime (an entity worshipped by astral cultists). Ice fallen from the stars.

    ❐ Ixtab spent his life searching for Chalkuk in the Polar Ocean. He has been gifted with psionic powers.

    ❐ Ixtab and his followers hijacked the Fogburner to find a frozen temple somewhere north of Hopesend.

    ❐ Each night when the characters sleep, their memories are erased by Ixtab’s psionic influence.

    ❐ The Children of Chalkuk have been mutated by the cold and Ixtab’s psionic resonance.

    ❐ The Captain sabotaged the engines to prevent the cultists from reaching their frozen temple.

    Wandering Encounters (d6)
    Roll d6, 1 = Encounter, 2 = Hint at Encounter

    (1) Frightened passenger. Driven to find resources.
    HP 4 | Pistol (d6) or Club (d6)

    (2) Rime-skinned Zealot. Driven to serve Father Ixtab.
    HP 8 | STR 12 | DEX 6 | WIL 8
    Claws (d8) or Icicle Spray (d4, Blast)
    *Frozen Solid! Advantage on Critical Damage Saves.

    (3) Frozen Husk. Driven to sap life from the living.
    HP 2 | STR 6 | DEX 4 | WIL 8
    Frozen Grip (d4 DEX damage) or Death Shatter (d6, Blast)*
    * Explodes! Frozen Husk is destroyed.

    (4) Ice Swarm. Driven to inflict pain on the unworthy.
    HP 8 | STR 4 | DEX 12 | WIL 2
    Slice (d6)
    *Swarm! Can attack up to three targets.

    (5) Psionic Cultist. Driven to bring nonbelievers to Ixtab.
    HP 4 | STR 8 | DEX 12 | WIL 12
    Psychic Sap (d4 WIL damage) or Pistol (d6)

    (6) The Engineer. Driven to preserve his creation forever.
    Armour 2 | HP 12 | STR 8 | DEX 12 | WIL 8
    Grab and Bite (d10) or Strangle (STR Save or Broken Neck)
    *Sticky! Can crawl on walls and ceilings.

    The Captain. Driven to defend the engines.
    HP 12 | STR 12 | DEX 8 | WIL 8
    Pistol (d6) and Flamethrower (d10, Blast)*
    *Immolated on Critical Damage!
    *Driven! Advantage on Critical Damage Saves

    Father Ixtab. Driven to be worshipped like Chalkuk.
    HP 1 | STR 3 | DEX 1 | WIL 18
    Psionic Blast (d8, Blast) and Psionic Domination (d4 WIL damage, head freezes at 0 WIL)
    *Frozen! Invulnerable while in solid ice.

  • Downer Ending/Baba Lasagna

    Artist Unknown

    I always thought I’d see a TPK coming from pretty far away. I thought there’d be time for me to think things through and understand what a party wipe will mean for the ongoing campaign. Will the players even want to keep going? Are they going to be invested enough in the world, the NPCs, and those tasty secrets and clues to make new characters and start over?

    During the 12th session of my *Ravenloft Campaign my players walked up to Baba Lysaga’s hut and confronted her face to face without much (any?) preparation.

    *A combination of I6 Ravenloft and 5e Curse of Strahd, using Shadowdark RPG and a densely packed hex rosette.

    Now, if you haven’t heard of Baba Lysaga that’s ok, the important thing to know is that my players had heard about Baba Lysaga. Virtually every single person they met in the misty valley of Barovia told them to stay as far away as possible, but the Priest (who could talk to animals and therefore understand the vivid cries of Baba’s captured ravens) insisted on being a hero.

    Before I knew it, all three PCs were stun-locked by screaming scarecrows and devoured by a magic swarm of insects in less than two rounds.

    It was surprising, memorable, and most importantly fun. Luckily, the amazing people I play with also thought it was fun (after an understandable period of shock and horror).

    It really changed my perspective on what a TPK can mean for a campaign. I called it the “season finale” and got to work hyping my players up for Season 2.

    Instead of turning to r/CurseofStrahd and asking how I can save my game, I looked inward and asked myself “what would make for the most interesting season premiere for the four of us as audience?”

    Lifting the hook from The Count, the Castle, and the Curse our second season begins with three new characters waking up in the dungeons of Ravenloft. I wanted to lean on the player’s own fear of the castle and subvert their expectations of it as a “final level” by throwing them into its deepest recesses and watching them flail to get out. It was awesome.

    Last night, my players returned to Baba Lysaga with new characters, allies, and a few more Level Ups than they had before. They heard stories about their fallen heroes, enough to give the new characters a believable reason to seek the same justice the players are after for themselves.

    The players planned well, but the battle remained tense throughout. In the end, with no casualties, Baba Lysaga was destroyed and the Ruins of Berez will finally be able to rest.

    “10/10.”
    – Late Priest player

  • Sci Fi Dungeon Tiles

    Art by Thomas Wright

    I spent a few weeks this summer laboring over a hot MS Surface Pro drawing sci-fi themed, megadungeon chambers for what was supposed to be a very low-prep style of campaign.

    See, when I pitched the idea of a sci-fi campaign where the characters are stranded on an alien moon with no choice but to explore a reality-defying megadungeon, I thought it would be as simple as finding the right map and the right monsters and coming up with a few interesting gravity-themed traps.

    Well, it was hard to find the kind of sci-fi looking maps I wanted. I’m sure they are out there, somewhere, but the more I looked the more I became convinced for what I wanted to do I needed to draw my own.

    Originally I had planned to draw 60 dungeon tiles, 20 for each layer of a three-level megadungeon, but after designing the monsters and ecosystem of the first level I was convinced there was enough content for our summer of play.

    Unfortunately the campaign had to be called off after only two sessions, but I’m thankful I got to playtest the dungeon tiles and sci-fi ruleset based on Into the Odd.

    What I’m left with is an open-ended mystery, 20+ handcrafted modular dungeon tiles, and a set of rules for running Into the Odd in an Alien inspired setting.

    Overgrown Ruins | Into the Void
    Available on itch.io