Recently in the Grim North

I use the word recently with some narrative ambiguity.  However, player characters have engaged with the setting. A bonus then. Creating material for games that doesn’t get used is a sad affair. You must play to get the most from the hobby of RPG.

An out of control house party has been shut down, this has probably earned the enmity of everyone involved. It was the Von Eirik mansion and those patricians are just… well, they’re not like you and I. Amongst the invitees were The Cult of the Supreme and Baleful Eye;  and some dealers in Prophecy Fudge, the latest narcotic craze to sweep the city. It gives visions of many potential futures but one of the downsides maybe that there’s a strong chance it’s made from the excrement of prophecy moth larvae. These are hard to keep; given they are analogous to the old DnD carrion crawler; and the second stage of their lifecycle is insanity inducing and deadly in the extreme. Plus the host turned out to be the patron’s older brother, so family drama. 

Simultaneously, or perhaps at the same time, two of the PCs involved played a divergent time stream diversion where they heisted a trade for the last owlbear egg. Owlbears obviously being ridiculous (although as I child I did indeed own a set of the plastic chinasaurs that Gary based some of his monsters on, no idea how I came by them.) This created an interesting situation for me. I asked the two players that turned up that night if they wanted to continue the mansion thing without the others or do something else. They opted for something else and the divergent time stream thing kicked in. That meant some stuff I was debating including in the setting, such as the Achronous, the Lords of Synchronicity and their Time Skirmish; was now in play. Unleash the Temporal Hounds, I say (stats as Hellhound but their breath weapon is pure time, aging effects forthwith.)

The hunt for ghost snake liver took the PCs into the Underworld beneath the city and there several of them met their end. Reaching into a corrosive pool to recover a submerged sword and falling from a medium height while trying to negotiate vertical tunnels. So nothing too extravagant. They encountered more cultists (this is the Grim North, minority religious practices are rife,) albino sewer alligators, cannibal mole men and the Ghost snake itself. I’m not sure cannibal is a term I can really apply to the mole men, after all their humanity is somewhat diminished. Sentientivore is a clumsy and non-evocative alternative. 

Then there’s the whole Black Market Thyme/Time Caper. Previously in the Grim North a group of PCs were hired by the Herb Cartel to smuggle some

fresh herbs into the city. Herbs are valuable here, this is a setting of permanent winter so getting plant based stuff in from the outside is always going to be lucrative. The PCs double crossed the Herb Cartel leading to them burning down the old House of Mercenaries, Sellspears and Blades for Hire and the setting up of the new Secret Shack of Mercenaries, etc etc. So the PCs headed out of the city with a hand cart and some manure, intending to smuggle a barrel of black market thyme back into town. The barrel had been stolen by some of the Achronous, those who would live unaffected by the passage of time, resulting in their deaths and the acquisition of a pocket door. The door lead to a temporal dead end, a branch of the time steam left to go fallow; effectively a small extra-temporal realm. Occupied by an impossibly old Achronous, the PCs used the the realm to smuggle a barrel of ambiguous contents ( perhaps it was Thyme, perhaps it was Time) back into the city and deliver it to their employer. As he left they caught a glance of the hourglass pendant of the Achronous concealed beneath his beard. 

(Warlock!) The Sleep of the Sword, part 3

Having rescued the ranger from the white faced Unmen, the PCs returned to Beck’s Ford with him and to consult the witch. She used her herbal brews to heal everyone a bit and discussed with the Ranger that the re-manifestation of Varrock’s spirit at the Tower of Memory was probably the catalyst for the increase in Unman activity in the area. The PCs surmised that the spirit had been taken there by the twisted, one-eyed figure seen clutching a brass urn by the village idiot. The urn obviously contained the remains of the former general and the weird giant was taking him home. 

 So armed with the knowledge that the Great Bowl where the Tower was located was guarded by the Wyvern of the Wood, they set off into the forest once more. Planning this time to stop whatever was happening with the spirit of the Warlock’s former general. A ritual of some sort was the consensus. Entering the woods, they encountered a small, wizened being who had set out a stall in the bole of a lighting split tree. He claimed to be a word trader and some PCs parted with silver for the knowledge of particularly interesting words. Pushing further on they came to the Great Bowl. A desolate depression, where nothing grew opened out before them. In the centre was a rising spire of rock upon which a ruined fortress was situated. A rope bridge stretched from a great horse chestnut tree out to the fortress. Around the base of the tree is a huge, scarred, impossibly old serpent; the Wyvern of the Wood. 

 A long debate with the Wyvern (including freshly purchased words from the word trader) resulted in the PCs pledging to bring to justice thieves that had stolen past it and looted items from the Tower. So have negotiated their way past the huge serpent they crossed the rope bridge and entered the ruins. Rain poured, and thunder rumbled. By a stroke of luck a flash of lightning silhouetted a twisted being stood on a bridge of fallen masonry about to hurl a rock at the PCs. They joined battle with this creature and mortally wounded it. It revealed the urn containing Varrock’s ashes had been stolen by a townsman who smelled of ale and bitterness. Identifying this as the tavern keeper the PCs rushed back to Becks Ford, believing he was about to perform Some sort of ritual to summon the dead general’s spirit. 

 At the village it seemed all of the villagers had been invited to the innkeeper’s daughter’s birthday party at the inn. Everyone in the village was making their way there, lured by the promise of free ale. In the time honoured tradition of PCs everywhere they decided to sneak in the back. Passing Yestin, the village idiot, who proudly showed them the finished security precautions he had added to the inn. Locks to the shutters and bars on the outside of the doors, it looked like they were designed to keep people in rather than out! Inside they observed the taproom chairs had been arrayed in a circle and the inn-keep and his daughter were making some sort of celebratory speech. Believing something horrible was about to take place the PCs sprung into action upon the revelation that the inn-keep was carrying a concealed yet ornate dagger. Exposed, he plunged the dagger into the nearest villager causing smoke to spill from the urn as Varrock’s spirit began to manifest. A cloudy, dark mass of talons and eyes like burning coals. A big fight then ensued as the PCs simultaneously battled the evil spirit and tried to keep the innkeep and his daughter from sacrificing more villagers to it. Eventually though they killed the inkeep, vanquished the spirit and subdued tue daughter. There was no celebration. Instead it rained. Soaked and miserable, the villagers hung the daughter in grim silence. The PCs slipped away without ceremony, after all the Church Knights were on there trail and it was probably for the best if no one saw them leave.

(Warlock!) The Sleep of the Sword, part 1

Arts by yuriperkowski666

Samy, halfling bodyguard

Morben, elf agitator

Alphonse, human noble

Jonas, human militiaman

Ogden, human bodyguard

Whilst on the run from the Church Authorities, wanted for a crime they didn’t commit, this disparate group of itinerant undesirables came to the village of Beck’s Ford. Fleeing from the inflammatory so-called justice of the Church Knights they sought comfort from the dismal rain in the local inn. 

On the way to the village they encountered an abandoned cart. It came replete with bloodstains, damaged trade goods and a trail leading off into the nearby woods. A strange trail with multiple types of unusual footprints. Either it was Unmen , blasphemous hybrids of animal and man, or as the PCs surmised they had found a giant chicken. 

Passing this by to hopefully gain more information at the village, they headed straight to the inn. The packed tap room fell silent as they entered until they stated they meant no harm and did in fact have money. The inns occupants matched what they had seen outside. This was a downtrodden place. 

A quick chat with the mayor revealed that there had always been Unmen in this area as one of the Warlocks generals was from around here. His old fortress was located in the woods nearby, although he had been slain at the battle at Herne Hill. Lately though the numbers of Unmen had grown and with it their bravery. Soon no one would be safe. Apparently this had all escalated following the sighting of a twisted, hunchbacked, one eyed giant heading into the nearby woods. 

Alas the only eye witness to this was Yestin, the village idiot. Slightly on the paranoid side Yestin was located in the inn’s rear yard, where he had been working on adding additional security precautions. While Ogden and Jonas questioned Yestin the others remained in the bar and Owen the Miller bought them round after round of beers, regaling them with tales of his advanced milling techniques in exhaustive detail. 

Yestin stated he had in fact seen the twisted, hunchback and that he was clutching a brass urn. Also he noted that he was heading into the woods in the direction of the Great Bowl, a depression in the earth where nothing would grow. It became apparent that Yestin was a little paranoid believing that most inhabitants of the village would “stab you in the back as soon as look at you.” However he cast aspersions over the Miller’s apparent wealth and suggested the PCs also visit the witch, although not to trust her obviously. 

It was apparent that the dilapidated state of the actual windmill was incongruent with the Miller’s affluence so the PCs resolved to check him out further. After exhorting the mayor to put them up, he generously offered up the inn’s common room at no cost. Berthold the inn keeper was less enthusiastic, muttering about being under appreciated and that when he was successful everyone would rue treating with such casual disdain. 

Despite being quick drunk at the Miller’s expense the PCs agreed to stand watch and Samy the halfling heard and observed some suspicious activity around the windmill. Someone loading a cart in the middle of the night and driving it into the woods. 

Resolved to see the Miller and the witch despite their hang overs Alphonse and Ogden approached the front of the windmill to distract the miller while Jonas and Samy sneaked in the back for a look around. Morben the elf was mostly sick in the bushes, the fortified rosé proving too much for his delicate constitution. Despite making a racket while they broke in, Alphonse covered everyone’s tracks by leveraging the crippling social anxiety the Miller felt at being spoken to by an actual noble, even a disgraced one. Samy and Jonas rooted around inside the mill. Much of the workings appeared in a state of disrepair. It was unlikely the windmill would actually work as such despite the Miller’s claims to advanced  flour grinding techniques. What was definitely of interest was crates aid weapons and bags of arrows. Meanwhile the Miller was stating he believed the Unmen threat to be overstated and that it was the fear of the beastmen that was causing more problems than the creatures themselves. 

So armed with the knowledge that the Miller was definitely not on the straight and narrow they went to see the witch. The witch cast the bones and consulted the spirits of many small things. She concluded a darkness had returned to the forest and if was not held in check could spread over the whole kingdom. She prophecies plagues of Unmen and rivers of blood. They asked if she could see the Warlock but she refused “That way lies madness and death.” To which Samy the halfling responded “Our business is madness and death.” 

They resolved to expose the miller’s dodgy dealings. Theories ranged from him selling weapons to the Unmen to simply being some sort of arms dealer. However when ex millitiaman Jonas gave his best “cop knock” on the front door of the mill, the miller fled out the back. Samy and Morben were waiting for him and Samy punched him square in the ankle with her knuckle duster while Morben tries to intimidate him into submission by passive aggressively flinging flower petals at him or some other elf nonsense. Anyway, it failed but he was incapacitated by the halfling’s super low blow. 

Next session they’re going to haul him off to the inn and expose his nefarious non-milling activities.

Warriors Of the Black Planet [Actual Play]

It's all a bit grim actually

The Black Planet of Acheron, where the only God is Death...

The player characters were Bronze kin, natives of the Acherontic city of Charron, on a mission to locate an abandoned atmosphere station somewhere in the wilderness outside their city. Their flier was forced to crash land after the anti-grav tanks were pierced by a sniper's bullet. 

The crash site was attacked by a group of the Unliving; a shambling, moaning affront to Death Herself. They were returned to the embrace of the goddess by accurate fire from the PCs' radium rifles followed by lethal sword work up close.

Reasoning that as atmosphere stations they knew existed were concealed to protect them from the destructive impulses of the Jade Kin, the place they sought would be most likely hidden somewhere in the mountains to the North of the crash site. 

As best they could determine, the sniper's bullet had originated from the strange forest of thorns to the West so they avoided that and headed toward the mountains. They ignored a ruined city to the South and an open plain to the East.

They discovered some copper tablets engraved with strange hieroglyphs that they identified as the written language of the Golden Kin, who claim to be beloved of Death and hold themselves above all others. They could not however read the ancient, pictorial script.

Upon discovering the partially buried towers of a ruined structure, the threat of a storm drove the party underground. They explored a subterranean complex, uncovering devices of weird science, before tampering with the control panel of some shaft based mechanism that seemingly activated a destructive process. Now. trying to escape from the facility, they entered a room that contained two pods. One of these housed a male Silver Kin in apparent suspended animation.

This planet is similar but redder

They got themselves safely on the other side of a set of blast doors, the party's warrior rescuing the Silver Kin from his pod, should the place be about to explode. Now in a cave they discovered a strange statue, believing it to be a blasphemous image they destroyed the idol. This however drew the attention of an eyeless, white horror with sinuous limbs and a mouthful of needle like teeth. They closed in it and cut it to pieces in short order despite the warrior's shield being smashed into a thousand fragments.

They looted equipment from the bodies of the creature's Jade Kin victims and made their way back to the surface. 

There they encountered a large group of Jade Kin apparently arguing amongst themselves at the base of the towers. Deciding discretion was the better part of valour, they skirted around them and made their way to the foot of the mountains of black glass. 

They chose to explore a canyon that led them to some form of temple entrance carved into the very rock itself. It was guarded by two large stainless steel statues. Inside they discovered an arena of sorts, their Silver Kin companion explained the altar they found there was where the losers of duels sacrificed themselves to the Goddess....

Run using, not powered by, The Black Hack

And there we ran out of time. I'm planning to discuss the mechanics of running the game in a second post but given it was my first time out with The Black Hack, and was for many of the players, it all ran very smoothly indeed.

Children are Like People but Smaller: White Box hangouts 10

Mole men. Dem claws.

Brian; Roc the Literate/Butcher, lvl 1 fighter

Paul; Alvis of the Blessed Horn, lvl1 mystic

A session in which there was discussion of hunting the mythical white alligator or returning to the abandoned mansion from session 1, the return of the Old Woman, her hut being located in the stilt district, reckless children had entered the sewers to hint mole men for the bounty on their ears, cheese magic was performed once more and a sense of a malevolent, pulsing force detected beneath the streets. Reinforcements were hired from the House, Asha the Greatswordswoman and Orric of the Deer Horn Knives stepped up.

Entry to the tunnels was found via a well, Orric's stories were long winded and painfully detailed. Tunnels connected to sewers connected to caverns, a one armed toy bear was rescued, Alvis explored a strange crack in the wall and came face to face with the carved stone likeness of some three eyed, shark toothed entity, a choice of three tunnels presented itself, one marked by the carving of a stone elephants head, a child was found, she had curly hair, the mole men struck from ambush and were in turn ambushed by the vicious and scarily competent children, ears were taken, Orric bored a mole man to death on a natural 20, players rolled well, the GM did not, three strange pillars from a bygone age were investigated. 

A further mole man dressed in a blue robe was discovered speaking in hushed tones with a patrician male, a further battle ensued as more mole men burst from their burrows, a demon mole mask was employed to breathe poison gas onto Alvis who was rendered unconscious but survived with a permanent loss of constitution, Roc slew many mole men and they were were defeated but the blue robed one and the patrician escaped. Alvis used his pack of playing cards depicting political figures from ten years ago to identify the patrician as bearing a family resemblance to the Von Valians. 

On the return to the surface the Old woman was nowhere to be found so all returned to the House of Mercenaries, Sellspears and Blades for Hire to divvy up the bounty on mole man ears, including the children taking their share, and receive a pouch of silver and a strange gourd each containing a bizarre liquid that smelled ever so faintly of cheese.

Enough XP was earned that both Roc and Alvis finally achieved the lofty heights of level 2 and much rejoicing took place.

The Mausoleum Break In

Played over 2 sessions

Brian, Roc level 1 Fighter

Mick, Vayne level 2 Bard (1st session only)

David, Pithe level 1 Thief

Chris, Cormac level 1 Magic User

In a break from my usual format I'm quoting from Brian Wille's posts to the G+ Grim North community  about both sessions and tacking on some GM commentary at the end. 

Mausoleums. Creepy.

Session 1

"Some good quotes from the night:

"Those dead people don't pose themselves. Quite the opposite actually!"

>PowerrrVaxx, Lesser Demon, Least of His Kind, tugging on the robe of Cormack, the Mighty Sorcerer:  ...I'm going now.

>Cormack: Good.

It was snowing heavily in the Grim North, it pretty much always is. In the House of Mercenaries, Sellspears and Blades for Hire it was dark and smoky. The place is run by Dek, an ex pit fighter and mercenary, so when we showed up looking for work he offered us a few jobs. We took:

Investigation of a mausoleum that had been broken into.

We also learned there had been an increase in trouble from the Mole Men, and there is currently a 2p/per ear bounty on them!

Informed by our patron for the job, a rich merchant from a good family named Envolio, that he'd seen the door to the mausoleum broken in. He wanted us to find out who had broken in, and why.

We traveled from the Docks District, to the White Weasel Tavern in the Merchant District. Then through the Bridge District, to the Dead City. Every trip took about 45 minutes, and we had to pay a toll to cross the bridge.

We passed a circular stone table in the cemetery with odd, ancient runes on it. Our hardcore investigation of the mausoleum revealed a secret door in the back, but we couldn't figure out how to get it open.

On the way back to report to Envolio, we passed some mangy wild dogs chewing on a corpse. We foolishly irritated them and had a big fight on our hands. Finally killing them, we found a good-quality map of the entire region, in a nice wooden box.

We only got partial payment, so we're resting and gearing up for another assault on the House of the Dead."

Pithe: "We ignore them"

Session 2

"A  Surfeit of Lampreys!

Words of Wisdom from our Thief:  "Better ridiculous than dead."

We got right down to business and arranged to meet the Dockside Boys in a nearby bar to hire some muscle. Some muscle for to knock down the secret door that we, with all our advanced degrees in rpgs and accumulated years of experience, could not figure out how to open.

The Grotesque Caw was a dive but you could volunteer to grapple & box for beer and bets. So I volunteered and it was fun, exciting, and cracked me the hell up! Also, I won, but it was a close thing. I think the rules were thus:

1)  Roll initiative

2)  If punching, roll to hit vs AC 12, for 1hp subdual dmg

3)   If grappling, roll UNDER your STR, but as high as possible w/out going over

4)  If successful grapple, roll again OVER your STR (a saving throw) to keep your hold. State your cool wrestling move!

5)  Grapple successfully next round, and you win! State your cool finishing move!

In practice there was a lot of back-and-forth, and your friends (and his) can throw beer to influence the fight. A lot of beer got thrown, I was soaked the rest of the night.

It turns out the City of Nox Eterna has no Thieves Guild, but it does have gangs. Kind of like in the movie "Warriors" but the outfits not so extreme. Supposedly, because we met the Dockside Boys, and they were dressed in children's versions of seaman's uniforms, like Little Lord Fauntleroy.

They looked insane but they were pro, and we soon had our wrecking crew hired. Before long we had them smashing at the secret door in the mausoleum, and lo a stairwell was revealed. The crew was irate from working hard so our Thief gave them a rest and they broke out some biscuits.

Down below was horror and writhing lampreys and dark ichor and infected living and embalmed corpses and the temple of a hideous entity. It was bad. After some investigation and experimentation by our mad-scientist Sorcerer, we decided to burn it with fire, all of it. The memories remain though.

It was enough to get us paid up in full, although the fat merchant Envolio gave us a hard time about not tracking down the cultists and burning down his family's mausoleum, with all his ancestors inside. We we did the right thing though. Oh yes we did."

My notes on both sessions:

The Secret Door

This was frustrating for the players. They found the door but couldn't find the mechanism by which it opened. There were a number of ways they could've solved this issue and they chose to hire some big, strong lads with pick axes to break through it. This would be more of an issue in a dungeon environment when it would involve trekking back to the nearest town or whatever but in the city it meant finding some local disreputable types with access to breaking gear.

The Dogs

Despite the attempt of the party's thief to walk past the four feral dogs chewing on the corpse in the alleyway, curiosity got the better of one of his companions and it turned into a scrap. Inventive use of flaming oil to try and ward off the attacking dogs left me having to make a ruling: How effective was it? I got the player to pick a die of his choice and roll, the higher the roll the better the result. Brian rolled a one on his d12. Dave's thief ended up getting bitten and also failing a saving throw, leaving everyone believing that he has contracted rabies although as yet he exhibits no symptoms. They did loot a sweet map of the area outside the city in a nice scroll case from the corpse though.

Like this but with beer throwing

The Wrestling

Wrestling and grappling rules are often a huge pain in the arse. I think this is because either no one really cares how they work so they seem unrealistic; or they care too much how they work, having some real life experience in the field, and they become too complicated. As this was a sporting contest rather than a fight to the death it seemed appropriate that the rules reflect this i.e. To win you must knock down your opponent. 

Then the mechanics.:

Punching resolved as a hit roll against AC 12 to reflect the duelling nature of the bout. Damage is 1 hit point per punch, and is sub dual rather than lethal. Reducing your opponent to zero knocks them out and wins you the bout. If you win initiate and strike your opponent before they attempt to grapple, they roll to hit at -1 that round. You may not strike once grappled.

Wrestling resolved as a hit roll again against AC 12 but then decided by contested Strength rolls in a roll high under fashion. So if you have Str 12 you need to roll on or under that, closer to 12 the better. Both wrestlers roll, if both succeed the highest roll wins. The initiator of wresting gets a one round +1 to Str for this roll. 

The winner gains an advantage in grip or whatever (which they can name with whatever ridiculous label they wish, Namibian Reverse Nelson, Peruvian Leg Tie etc.) 

This contest is repeated. Two consecutive wins means you throw your opponent and win the bout. If you have the advantage but lose the second contest, you lose the advantage.

Audience participation: Your friends and supporters may legally interfere by throwing beer either on you or your opponent. They must purchase the beers before the bout begins. They roll to hit against AC 12 and a success indicates they may allow either +1 to you, -1 to your opponent (in an opposed roll this applies to you Str rather than the die roll), or a saving throw to break your opponent's grip if grappled.

Hook Worms. Nasty.

The Shrine

When the main focus of the secret shrine you discover underneath someone's family mausoleum is a statue of a man who has a long, winding hookworm instead of a head then immediately judgements are made. When you add in a huge brass bowl full of worm infested black slime, moaning catatonic people locked in a room, another side room where weird grape like objects are hung from racks then the general response was that something bad was going on. This is not to mention the rows of pews that feature the embalmed corpses of the poor, now fixed into place as a silent congregation.

Rather than make this a set piece encounter with whoever populated this place I randomised their chances of being there prior to the PCs, arriving while they were snooping around etc. The dice were rolled repeatedly, and the shrine remained deserted.

After some rather cautious investigation, it was decided that some sort of nefarious evil was taking place. The PCs concluded it was better to live to collect their fee rather than disturb something awful and die in the pursuit of phat loots. So the expensive silk wall hangings were used as fuel for the fire that gutted the shrine and the mausoleum above.

I strive to stage my games so this balance between risk and reward is an actual thing. If you spend hours turning the chaotic shrine upside down in the pursuit of silver then chances are you will find it but it won't be the only thing you find. Playing it safe might yield less treasure, and therefore less XP, but also you increase your chances of living to spend it and maybe even level up. There are other considerations too. When a slightly different group encountered Otter cultists in the sewers they attacked immediately and ultimately gained a decent haul out of it. However it cost one character death and perhaps earned the survivors the eternal enmity of the remainder of the cult.  

What is the Salt Hulk? [Actual Play]

"Being adrift after a shipwreck, my companions and I found ourselves washed up on this strange, alien vessel. Tired, emotional and starving we made our way below deck.

It would seem that the ship was crafted entirely of a peculiar, unnaturally coloured stone. The thing was run by some form of artificial intelligence, known as Ironchild. I say was..

There are fixers on board. They're weird things with gruff, northern accents. They have rat like faces and sprout multiple mechanical arms from their backs. There are big ones and little ones. I didn't like either.

A picture that I stole from Chris McDowall

One of my companions, Will, drank a phase tonic that allowed him to reset his personal timeline after a few seconds of activity.

I myself bore a brace of pistols, steel wire, a grappling hook and a fetch pearl.

We found a sailor who had been immolated  on a pair of steel spikes. Another companion, Darius, performed strange and possibly forbidden surgery to remove his dead brain and place it in a steel jar. Somehow through his arcane knowledge he could then speak with the brain, a traveller from a strange place named Hellion.

The Salt Hulk seemed keen to host us as guests but there was no food. As we explored we encountered the disembodied head of a fixer being taunted by its fellows. We bargained with it; a new body for answers.

The sailor's body now hosted the rogue fixers head. We learned there were two groups of fixers, those at odds with Ironchild and those that wished to restore it to control of the ship.

We travelled deeper into the body of the hulk. There were pools that seemed to lead down to a raucous underwater party. I used my fetch pearl to bring something up from the depths. It seemed I had caught a giant eel being and it appeared neither tasty nor friendly. I was able to return it to whence it came but not before it struck our tame fixer with its pale staff and blasted from his mind the knowledge we needed most: the location of the food..."

The game was run by the Oddfather himself, Chris McDowall, using his Into the Odd rules. Into the Odd is cool right now, lots of people running it on Hangouts and I can see why. The simplicity of the system and weirdness of the setting appeals to me. There was no combat, no traps, no treasure. It was just good old fashioned exploration and weirdness. This frequently happens in games I run so I was reassured that I enjoyed the session a lot.  It was good to give ItO a run as a player, plus it tied in nicely to my gaming resolution of running or playing all the games I own (in print) in 2016.

If the big fixers carry on the way they have been, there's going to be some shooting next time out.

Grim North: Dragonmeet Edition

Beards: Cool until they want you dead

Rogues Gallery:

Pahn McDohl, lvl 1 fighter
Wister, lvl 1 fighter
Ottsa, lvl 1 mystic and former Otter cultist
Andy's lvl 1 thief who I can't remember the name of...

In which a team from the House of Mercenaries, Sellspears and Blades for Hire investigated the claims of Cilk Von Herrick. A patrician who having defeated a rival in a beard growing contest now believed his beard was sentient and trying to kill him.

A return to the butchers saw the PCs become freelance debt collectors for the Butcher's Guild. Each pinned a piece of chicken skin to their chest as a sign of office. The Fizzing Stone public house in the Patrician District was visited, where the owner keeps three pet wolves in the bar and yet it is still a high class establishment. Cilk Von Herrick turned out to be a drunk in possession of an enormous beard who would not deign to speak to the PCs directly but only via his manservant.

Ottsa used her mystic powers and detected hostile magic on the beard. Andy's thief cut a lock from the beard causing Von Herrick actual physical pain. In the stables the beard was combed for evidence, finding only a family of doormice, before being plaited for ease of transportation.

Religious instruction was sought at the Cathedral of the Aeternal Lords. A clandestine meeting with a priest in the crypts below lead to heading North across the city to the Necropolis, passing through the Merchant District and the District of Bridges on the way.

Fortunes were told. Von Herrick's movements had to be lubricated with the application of lots of wine.

In the necropolis strange, grey robed priests arranged the embalmed dead in scenes from life, such as a card game and watching a parade.

They met the wizard Oraculees, who was wizened but with giant eyes, and his stunted servant Maximillian. Some ate a turkey that had been served for a dinner party of the dead.

Wister paid the wizard's price of three cups of blood. Oraculees consulted the Book of Beards. He deemed that a demon should be summoned and a sacrifice was needed. Without hesitation Pahn offered the patrician's slaves but it turned out only a chicken was needed. One of the relieved slaves was sent off with some silver to buy a chicken.

And there we finished as time was drawing on.

White Box Hangouts 5: The Blue Otter Cult

In the terrace district Ram, the thief, picked the pocket of a victorious scorpion trainer in the Bell and Scorpion tavern (recovering 30 silver pennies and some minced hedgehog.)

Was the drunk old ex sewer watchman really telling the truth about the white alligators in the sewers? A white alligator skin could be worth a few silver pennies to the right patrician and a live specimen would fetch a decent price on the bizarre pets market.

So, willing to try their hand at anything that pays the PCs became sceptical alligator hunters and headed into the sewers.

They encountered the Sewer Watch. They battled cannibal mole men. The party's fighter, Pahn, coming so close to death that seasoning was applied to his unconscious body. Fortunately Vayne the bard stepped in with one of his many natural twenties. Decapitation and the hundred cut method proving the end for two of his adversaries.

No XP was awarded for puns.

Finding the secret idol of the Otter God, He Who is Both Furry and Yet Ferocious, they immediately attacked his cultists. Outnumbered, things were going ok until Ram took a sacrificial dagger to the chest on another Nat 20 and died. The cultists exclaimed this as a sacrifice to their God but her dying words were "I am not a virgin...."

Furious further natural twentying from Vayne and consistent spear work from Pahn left the remaining three cultists with no option but to surrender.

The cult leader unmasked and proclaimed herself an ex-cultist. She now wished to side with obviously superior mercenaries, and conveniently turned out to be a mystic and also Ram's player's new character. As a token of good faith she lead her new compatriots to the cult's hoard of otter themed silver jewellery.

They returned to the house of Mercenaries, Sellspears and Blades for Hire to fence the silver and divvy up the spoils and XP.

White Box Hangouts 4: The Hallowed Eve

I wrote a summary of Wednesday night's game but Paul C who plays Alvis the Mystic posted this to G+ in the style I used for previous write ups and it was better than mine so I stole it...

Not the Lord of Sorrows but suitable.

Paul wrote:

"Just played in another awesome session of the Grim North with monkiest2 as GM. Truly amazing adventure with cheese magic, choking mist, "teachers" looking for children,gloomy monolinths, a bard who is always right, a thief who can read lips, creepy children, dimensionally unstable demons, true love, a terrifying chase through the streets, a haunting spectre of a horseman and reaching HQ in the nick of time. All around class session of thrills and chills aplenty."

Some notes about the session:

Cheese magic. Tyromancy had been bandied about on G+ earlier in the day as useful piece of obsolete vocabulary, being a method of divination by reading signs in the coagulation of cheese. I liked it and immediately stole this as the means by which the Old Woman could introduce some lore about the various supernatural threats of the Feast of Hallowed Eve. Not least The Lord of Sorrows, who would arrive at midnight on his blood red horse to claim those still on the streets of the city, deemed to be given over to the realm of despair.

The Rolling of 3. During the Hallowed Eve the number three is sacred to The Lord of Sorrows. Anytime a three was rolled by any of the players on any die, he was drawn closer to the material realm. With most of the rolls in White Box being d20 and d6 there were quite a lot of natural threes rolled, eight in total. This resulted in the premature summoning of The Lord of Sorrows himself and the characters having to run for their very souls.

The tapping on the walls of reality. On the Hallowed Eve the walls of reality grow thin and horrors from the Outer Dark try to force their way into the world. This manifested as the sound on metal tapping on glass "Tap, tap, tap" which the PCs could hear every time things went quiet. Answering the tapping in kind, on a black marble monolith as it happened, resulted in a whispered voice saying "Let me in."

The Girl with No Eyes. Encountering a child with her eyes gouged out is just creepy, especially when she keeps disappearing. Her rag doll that the PCs were in possession of for a bit also had no eyes.

The battle. When Vayne the Bard invited the eldritch hordes of the Outer Dark to "Come on in" I rolled on the d6 random least demons table I had prepared for the game. They faced six floating ammonites with glowing green tentacles and black shells composed the twisted, fossilised, shrunken faces of the screaming dead. These were eventually defeated although Silent Silvie the Acrobat rolled appallingly, Vayne the Bard would have been horrifically injured if not for Alvis's mystic healing and Ram the Thief nearly died. Reduced to negative one hit points she was on her way out.
Vayne: "There must be some way I can stop her dying"
Me: "How exactly are you going to do that?" Knowing that there were no mechanical options open to the party.
Vayne: "True love's kiss."
Me: "Ha ok, I'll allow it." And so she did not die.

The session was planned around several independent supernatural threats which were then inexpertly interwoven with a simple fetch quest to recover some lost children in a park. I was pleased with how it turned out, good players making the game very enjoyable to run and they didn't even encounter the Tatterwitch and her pumpkin demon, any of the soul burned Black Magicians or the Cold Dead. Maybe next Hallowed Eve...

White Box Hangouts 3: "This Is Not An Adventure, it's A Pub Crawl"

I am the god of hellfire and I bring you...

 It was dark and smoky in the House of Mercenaries, Sellspears and Blades for hire. Dramatis Personae: Silvie, an acrobat, and Alvis, a mystic. Refusing to enter the sewers at any cost, the PCs decided to investigate what happened to Dek's missing beer delivery. Especially as it came from an old mercenary buddy of his from back in the day, Gorm, who had retired from the killing business and set up the Black Cow Brewery in the Canal district.

In heavy snow, the ruin of a brewery was found to be still smoking, clocks were examined and granary proprietors questioned, a trip to the Bleak Elephant public house yielded no trace of Gorm but beer was drunk out of horns, an eavesdropper was discovered and chased through back alleys, he was subdued by skilful flail work, a recipe for scones and information were extracted from him, the Alleyway Brotherhood were implicated, further investigation took place, the PCs were menaced by a small but vicious dog, a trip to the Pig and Barrel was proposed, a loud religious song and dance was performed, a wall was surreptitiously vaulted, incautious running caused a heavily burned floor to cave in, acrobatics saved the day but no one was around to see, Gorm was recovered from the smoking ruins of his brewery, there was planning, the mothman was seen flitting between rooftops but he spoke to no one, there was reconnaissance, mulled wine was deemed to be too expensive, a map was drawn in ale, the Battle of Five Dials was fought, a flask of oil was hurled into the canal (non intentionally,) surprise was not gained but initiative was, sling stones careered wildly out of the darkness, mystic powers were used, Marius the duelist proved to be a fearsome ally, Alvis took a club to the head and had a brief nap, there was "friendly fire" only with clubs, the Alleyway Brotherhood was warned off but only after a large woman urinated directly into a thief's face, victory was celebrated, heavy drinking was deemed to be the best thing for a serious head injury, a weird ebony and silver animal skull was recovered, silver looted from thieves was shared fairly with NPCs! Dek and Gorm were grateful and promised favours and the waiving of the fee on any future House jobs.

Another enjoyable session. Thanks to Eric and Paul who were exemplary players.

The City of Pallid Masks - Actual Play

The City of Pallid Masks

With seven (count them, SEVEN, players,) most of them new to the old school, this was the first session of a foray into my reskinned version of B4 The Lost City.

Following the horrific snow storm that engulfed their caravan the PCs found themselves exploring a strange black ziggurat that towered above the rubble of a ruined city. It was topped by three giant statues. Statues of three forgotten gods.

A dead man/ape hybrid, with fearsome tusks, was blocking open a secret door into the structure. A crossbow bolt in it's chest from a triggered trap....

After much explanation that in Swords and Wizardry (Complete) 1st level mages really do only get one spell and some misfortune around traps, proper old school play started to kick in. Ten foot poles. Doors smashed of their hinges with hammers. That sort of thing.

An encounter with a lizard wolf put the frighteners on them after one fighter nearly died but in finding the Sacred Band of Gerrain they learned of the existence of the under city, the names of the three gods and their followers and the new, dark god who had caused the downfall of the civilisation that surrounded them. Its people had turned to drug use and human sacrifice, descending into a narcotic fuelled unreality. The Sacred Band stated they were searching for the sword of their god, "Remorse" which they believed had been taken by the Magi of Usamigaras, the elephant headed deity of medicine and sorcery, and was somewhere within the pyramid.

Two of the party's fighters and their ranger joined the Sacred Band and were gifted with their ivory masks and anointed with their oily musk (sounds weirder than it is,) swearing to uphold the ways of Gerrain and find the sword so they could defeat the new god from the Outer Dark, Oth Talos.

Could it be that one of the party's mages accidentally partook of the dream some found on a dead native? He certainly started to behave weirdly enough.

On their way to the next lower level of the pyramid they encountered more locals, this time dressed as birds who squawked at them and bid them fly away with them, cursing them for land locked fools when they refused. Off they sped, flapping their arms.

Eventually they found some stairs down and, with some trepidation, headed deeper into the ziggurat...

White Box Hangouts Game Session 2: "Comedy Side Quest"

With only two PCs this week, Tam Tenfingers and Pahn McDohl, the exploration of the upper floor of the Creepy old Von Keinlin place was deferred in favour of "a comedy side quest." 

 

Pretty accurate representation of the figurine itself

In the dark and smoky confines of the House of Mercenaries, Sellspears and Blades for Hire, the guys partook of the "cans only" bar and chatted to some barbarians. This resulted in a trip to the Stilt District, drinking stout in the Broken Hare with another barbarian mercenary, learning the Von Keinlin's were up to their necks in the intrigue and violence of Aeternian politics, back to the HoMS&BFH to meet their prospective new employer, being exposed to poor haggling and worse tradecraft, agreeing to meet a man in the Night Gardens while wearing a yellow ribbon and speaking the phrase "The swallow flies at moonlight," expecting to hear "but only under the Bridge of Deepest Sighs" in return, being hired to steal back a demon figurine made of clay with dubious value as a family heirloom, crossing the Paupers' Bridge to the North bank of the Skarrion, a recce of the Green Beaver public house where Barniman's golden ale was served and prize fighting the entertainment, confusion arising over the exact definition of a "Docker Boy," an exchange of information and secrecy for silver, being mistaken for minstrels, tangling with the Blackthorn Boys, the Disciples of the Forbidden Ark and the slightly inebriated Night Watch all at the same time in a four way bar room brawl, a fake headbut, a surreptitious pat down, tables and beers going everywhere, a partially successful WWE style cross body tackle, figurines rolling about on the floor and being repeatedly snatched out of people's hands, slow motion dives, boots put in to downed opponents, a rugby tackle and a suplex, a mid fight bribe, the deliberate smashing of a clay demon figurine and then spitting on it, loud complaining about said smashing, and finally making a run for it while everyone else was still arguing, getting clean away.

The Grim North Inaugural Hangouts Game: The Butcher Boys

Weird looking abandoned manor house based fun

It was snowing in the Grim North, it pretty much always is. In the House of Mercenaries, Sellspears and Blades for Hire it was dark and smoky. The place is run by Dek, an ex pit fighter and mercenary, so when four itinerant misfits turned up looking for work he offered them what information he thought they might useful. Some old sewer watchman was raving about seeing white alligators beneath the city. The Von Keinlin family had not been seen for ages and now there were weird lights and noises coming from their house at night. Some patrician's servant had been poking around trying to source a group for an object retrieval somewhere in the city.

What followed was a festival of meat delivery, dead horses, a missing horses head (location unknown,) listening at doors, pushing to front of queues, knocking ominously on doors, attempting to barge doors down and failing, successfully thieving doors open (but then Tam Tenfingers is the second best thief in the city, self acclaimed), finding something gruesome in the kitchen, stabbing it repeatedly with a spear to little effect, resolving to come back later and burn it with the intention of putting it out of its misery, pushing over a perfectly innocent suit of armour (loudly), finding a corpse in the cellar, finding another corpse in the armoury (well, chewed bits of one), recovering a grand total of thirty five silver pieces, discovering what appeared to be a summoning ritual gone wrong, torch throwing at a sub Olympic level, a would be summoner burned out from the inside, what can only be described as quite a lot of snails, a weird glowing circle inscribed on the floor, some books also burned through from the middle, and no one has gone upstairs in the Manor House, entered the detached tower or explored the rock garden.

Good times.

The Raid on the Shrine of the Many Legged God

The PCs are currently based in the city of Karn, taking room and board at the Broken Ram. The landlord steered them in the direction of a mysterious woman known as the Information Broker, who operates at the rear of a slaughterhouse. Trading what little they knew, and some silver, they acquired directions to a recently reoccupied shrine out in the wasteland. After all, where there is religion, there is cash. Also they questioned her about the tattoos some of them had been given when drugged and captured by slavers.

They hired a spearman, Rolv, to accompany them for three days and set off into the wilderness.

A quick roll on the omens table gave "a found object," which I decided was a shiny copper penny. Pocketed by the former wasteland marauder stating " a lucky penny...."

Out in the wilderness they encountered a weird covered bridge that didn't actually span anything. It was just lying there. It was clearly built by the ancients but how it came to be there was anyone's guess.

They carried out the raid at night, figuring anyone in the shrine would be asleep or at a mass or some sort of ritual. The door held the ominous engraving "The House of the Many Legged God."

The raid itself was the guys finding the Champion of The Lord of One Hundred Things. Stripped to the waist and bearing a hundred centipede tattoos, in addition to his hugely ornate flail. After some challenges and tactical manoeuvring the fighter mage lunged in with his longsword and delivered a mighty one point of damage. The Champion retaliated by flailing him between the eyes for a solid eight hit points and a trip to the afterlife of his choice. Undeterred the marauder and Rolv the spearman leapt into the fray. Rolv's second spear thrust did the trick, piercing the Champion's chest for max damage and putting him down. They were so excited to loot their former comrade's body they nearly forgot to steal the ex-Champion's flail and silver centipede arm ring.

Inspecting a statue of a twenty foot long centipede the cowardly mage greedily attempted to pry out its gemstone eyes only to have its stone forcipules close on his arm for three points. Now even more cowardly, he temporarily forgot his greed and wished to flee the shrine entirely. The surviving marauder reluctantly agreed while the fighter mage's player started rolling up his new character.

Hiding outside the shrine they saw signs of pursuit so the greedy mage used his sleep spell, in a most cowardly fashion, to put them down. They then applied the customary throat cuttings and stole their pursuers silver centipede holy symbols.

They re-entered the shrine, explored a bit and fought some giant centipedes that attacked from the ceiling. They also found a captured paladin in a holding cell, awaiting his doom, who was all too keen to be freed so he could join up and complete his goal of cleansing the place of these vile centipede cultists.

Finally, they interrupted a ritual where one cultist was restraining another on an altar while the high priest was holding a giant centipede to his chest for the purposes of it biting him. The bitten cultist rushed the PCs, while the second cultist ran for a portcullis that if opened would unleash a centauripede. Rolv's thrown spear took him in the back before he could free it, and earned him the name Rolv Spearslayer, as the cultist fell to another max damage roll from the hireling. The bitten cultist quickly fell to the blades of the marauder and the paladin, centipede poison not exactly falling into the category of performance enhancing drugs. The high priest proved to be more of a problem but largely because he levitated twenty feet in the air and the party nearly ran out of things to throw at him. His darkness spells, magic missiles and thrown centipedes not really cutting the mustard against these determined warriors.

They looted some silver coins from under the altar (naturally) and made off with the high priests ornate centipede necklace, which was the  most valuable treasure in the place. They eyed up the large opal around the neck of the centauripede but thought better of setting it free because it simply looked too dangerous.

Then it was back to Karn for fencing jewellery, dividing the spoils and calculating experience. Quite a few of the silver coins were stamped with a centipede design, let's hope that there are no cultists in the city who might take umbrage with the sack of their god's shrine....

Player's map

My map

Actual Play in the Grim North: A Dark Road

The characters were all part of the same caravan that stopped at a coaching inn on their way to Nox Aeterna to find their fortunes. Whilst carousing in the taproom they were approached by a finely attired, if somewhat worn looking, fellow named Tarhan. He presented the win-win opportunity of looking for a missing tax collector he had been drinking with not a few days ago citing the inside info that he had directed him on an alternate route to the next coaching inn to avoid the local overly aggressive bandits. The PCs, Geoff the Cleric and Eloise (The Shadow) the Assassin, were accompanied by PeterRabbit the posh Mage and the barbarian warrior Blithref (Blithref punch things and take their silver"), and guided by Erdik the peasant, as they set off for the caves where Tarhan believed the tax collector had probably gone missing. They figured either he needed rescuing and there would be a reward or he was dead and the taxes he had collected were going begging.

Erdik guided them up into the woods where they randomly encountered a group of goblins. These goblins were almost totally enveloped in their fur cloaks and armed with short swords fashioned from shards of ice. A favourable reaction roll meant the goblins negotiated with the PCs who refused to give the goblins Anything but settled for giving them Absolutely Nothing, which the lead goblin accepted with glee and refused to share with his fellows.

Once they found the caves they wasted no time in posting the peasant guide as a guard at the entrance and entering with Blithref in the lead ("Blithref not scared of cave. Blithref punch cave in face and take its silver") and PeterRabbit the posh Mage holding the lantern. They found an old battered helmet in one cavern and faced with multiple options chose to always turn right where possible. They met and defeated three Darklings, five feet tall, black skinned humanoids with no neck and a mane of black hair all the way down their backs. They attacked twice with their d3 claws but Blithreth skewered two with his spear and Geoff, who's consistently good rolls for surprise and initiative kept the PCs in the game, took out the third with his flail.

Finding a three way fork in the tunnel, they took the right hand path and Blithreth blundered into a big web. He was bitten by the giant spider that inevitably lived in it and succumbed to its poison, dying almost instantly. Geoff bashed it with his flail and "Eloise" (a pseudonym, she hasn't decided what her real name is yet but also has "The Shadow" as a second pseudonym) finished it off with her sword. They found a desiccated body in the web that appeared to be a cleric. He was carrying two potions and a scroll that was a deed for a house in a place called Grimmsgate...

Further exploration revealed a cavern containing partially eaten bodies and the noise involved in all the fighting drew Erdik the peasant into the cave as he was scared outside on his own. They then tangled with three more Darklings, despite Geoff's best efforts he went down. I allow PCs a saving throw if they reach 0 hit points to avoid death but alas Geoff was a goner, off to join his deity who we didn't really get around to naming, "Something or Other, the Smiter." PeterRabbit used his posh magic to put the Darklings to sleep but not before "Eloise" took a beating.

Eloise walked into a Malayan tiger gate and was so injured she dared to try a potion, which fortunately for her restored her to full hit points. They then crossed a rope bridge through a cave full of bats and found some sleeping Darklings, which they tip toed around. In the next cavern, some sort of Darkling larder, they found an uneaten bloke chained to the wall amongst his less fortunate companions. Freeing him was noisy but he turned out to be a ranger who had set off in search of the same missing tax collector some days earlier. Suspicions were aroused. As were the two sleeping Darklings from the other cavern. They slew Erdik the peasant after his protestations of "knowing nothing about no double cross" and the ranger Gunthorr, now played by Geoff's player  ("what, like Gunther from Friends? No Gun as in gun and Thor as in Thor, you know Thorrrr...") destroyed them as he and Eloise rolled natural twenties to save the day. Eloise was battered though and retired to the middle of the battle order with her crossbow loaded.

Gunthorr (apparently pronounced like Mordor in the first Lord of the Rings film) valiantly led from the front with his 16 hit points but was struck a glancing blow by a deadfall trap and rolled a good save to avoid falling into a pit of spikes.

They circled around, Eloise cut the throats of the magically slumbering Darklings from earlier and they found three more Darklings worshipping at the shore of an underground lake, with some sort of bizarre edifice barely visible on an island at its centre. Terrible rolls saw a spear vanish into the water and Eloise snap the string on her crossbow. The Darklings attacked and mauled the PCs with Eloise going down and PeterRabbit getting his staff stuck in the lakeshore mud (natural 1 is a bitch.) Fortunately Gunthorr's vast reserve of hit points meant he could absorb crits from the Darklings and still slay them all despite PeterRabbit also going down to a well placed claw. Eloise failed her save against death but Gunthorr poured the last healing potion down her throat to avert it and PeterRabbit made his save. Turns out his posh tobacco tin stopped the claws penetrating all the way to his heart.

Watching the PCs scared to do anything on the islands where a statue of the Darklings eyeless god was situated, despite the pile of hack silver right in front of it, was one of the joys of games mastering (knowing there was absolutely no danger at all.) As was their relief when they rowed away from the island with the silver and without the statue animating to attack them.

High tailing it out of there with the loot they put some distance between themselves and the caves before camping out for the night. Gunthorr read their tracks back to the road as they were now sans guide. They glimpsed a horned centaur at the forest's edge but hurried away from it, battered and bruised as they were. A debate ensued about whether to return the coaching inn and confront Tarhan or to press on towards Nox Aeterna and forget the whole thing. Gunthorr being lawful was concerned that other innocents might be sent to their deaths by Tarhan, he had seen his friends get eaten after all, but Eloise was more concerned about getting away with the silver and finding a way to bank it.

Faced with the possibility of a night out in the open if they pressed on, they returned to the coaching inn and fronted out Tarhan in a fairly friendly manner. He tried to talk his way out of it but as it wasn't working ran for the door. Failed rugby tackles left Eloise stunned and Gunthorr lagging behind. Too posh to rugby tackle anyone, PeterRabbit also gave chase. Eventually, once out of plain sight he was prepared to use his, by his own admission, "awesome" powers to sleep Tarhan and the horse he was about to ride away on.

Tarhan was duly tied up and water boarded by Eloise in the horses drinking trough until he admitted setting the PCs up to be eaten by the Darklings in return for silver, having fallen in with some dark characters following his failed merchant ventures. In a display of Lawful Ignorance Gunthorr returned to the taproom with PeterRabbit to finish their mutton and ale while Eloise surreptitiously cut Tarhan's throat, tied him to his horse and set it on its way with a hearty slap, telling everyone that he "got away..."