Monday, April 24, 2017

Shadowbreakers: the Perilous #1

A combination of World of Dungeons and Worlds of Breakers, Apocalypses and Shadows. I kind of prefer harm clocks instead of hit points, so I thought I would try it. Instead of tracking World of Breakers gear slots, I am experimenting with a character being able to hold ten significant things, and the rest is carried in a Bag of Tricks a la Felix the Cat and Mary Poppins. I imagine the move would be akin to:

When you pull something unlikely from your Bag of Tricks, roll 2d6. 10+, you have it but why? 7-9, choose 1:
  • It isn't on you, so where is it?
  • You have it, but what did you leave behind?
  • You packed it, but it is a Significant Item.

Vincent has expressionless brown eyes and auburn military hair. Casual denim jeans and dark short sleeve shirt is his usual style, often worn with a heavy jacket when he goes hunting. Even after leaving the military, he has kept himself physically active.

S +1 D +2 C +1 I +0 W +0 C +0
SKILLS Athletics, Awareness
ABILITIES Smart-link, Summon

PACK Bag of Tricks (canvas ruck), C-4, First Aid, Supplies
HAND NorAm Thunderbird pistol (2 harm, close, piercing, loud), PacPro armored jacket (1 armor)

HARM [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ]

Beneath Pioneer Square, boots kick up small clouds of dust under the purple prism lights. Muffled voices came from an adjacent room, speaking in measured monotones. Vincent strode quietly across the concrete and old dust. As quiet as hard soled boots would allow. Muted scrapes and scuffs marked his position as his head peeked around an aged doorway.

A trio of silhouettes stood framed against orange lightning. The trunk of the bolt was as wide as a person standing sideways. Tendrils of energy forked into the ground like lightning trapped in glass. A low rumble of building thunder hummed faintly instead of the expected roaring clap.

“X is not One,” three voices droned in unison.

Three robes parted as three arms lifted. Their left arms gleamed in the orange light, the appendages resembling sharp metallic spider legs which ended in a single pointed spike. The right hand remained human. Mostly. A sidearm had been grafted over their hand, taking the place of their first two fingers.

“Solve for X,” they recited as the room echoed with the sound of gun fire.

Vincent ducked behind the wall as bullets ripped the concrete and struck stone around him. He glanced out for two quick heartbeats, producing his pistol and firing. Two shells ejected and two bullets found a target. One head, one chest. One of the three robed creatures fell to the floor.

“One, distance of X equals seventeen,” said the right hand.

“Point zero six, insufficient penetration. Moving to zero negative four,” said the left.

More bullets flew at the wall Vincent hid behind. A couple ripped holes in his pants and scratched light wounds into his leg. He pulled back further against the wall and fired two more times around the corner. Vincent heard the faint thud as another body fell to the floor.

There was a loud sizzle, then… silence. Vincent dared a look around the corner and found the room empty save for the frozen lightning and two corpses. He walked into the chamber and inspected the bodies in the dim orange light. Red robes. Grafted weapons. Human. Mostly. Each wore a necklace with a cluster of cogs. His gaze shifted back to the Break.

The other side of the Break was an ashen waste. Grey dirt broken by skeletons of dried black trees. Not a single leaf or blade of grass could be found. The sky was a similar dead grey, overcast with an orb of pure ivory statically burning a patch of clouds away. Aside from his denim and streak of orange lightning, the world was a sea of greyscale. The Shadowlands twisted everything it conquered. Natural laws were violated. Creatures were twisted. And, sometimes, it could spawn envoys to extend its influence even further.

A short distance away, a figure wearing a red patch of color descended behind a hill. The figure moved toward a series of Tuscan columns. Vincent walked after it and kept to the broken trees as cover. From this distance, he watched as the robed person raised its arms and seemed to perform a ritual.

In the center of the columns, a black hemisphere glowed with black light. How black glows black was still beyond Vince’s comprehension, but he knew what he saw. From its depths, a metallic construct emerged. An inverted cone, the flat base up toward the sky, its four limbs each ended with a singular sharp spike like the arm of the three cultists.

The construct and cultist met before the glowing gate. The cultist was saying something, though Vincent couldn't hear from this distance. The construct responded, first driving a spiked limb through the cultist then pinning him to the ground. Another spike pierced the other shoulder while the cultist lay silently beneath it. Two metal spikes flexed, and the red patch of color grew wider.

Unfortunately, closing this Break would require destroying the obsidian hemisphere. He suspected that would include getting past the automaton in front of it. Vincent crouched low and sped closer to the Break and its guardian. The thing had no discernable eyes, but it registered his movement. The construct swung what passed for a torso in his direction.

Vince’s vision overlaid the ground with a green grid, his target flashing white where the spikes connected to the conical body. The Thunderbird roared as another two bullets flew from its muzzle. He knew as the construct plodded toward him that the shots were remarkably precise. Both struck the join with rich solid clangs and separated one limb from its body.

With one leg missing, the construct awkwardly swung an appendage at him. Vincent ducked, two shots piercing the conical torso while he sidestepped. He must have struck something important. The thing toppled and crashed to the ground faster than he had anticipated. Its bulk bruised his shoulder as the metallic thing knocked him aside.

Vincent rested and bandaged his wounds. The sun hadn't moved from where it had been. He rummaged through his pack and grabbed the explosive to seal the Break. Vince paired his watch with the detonator. He would need to trigger it from within the Break but close enough to escape.

Satisfied, he began the walk back to the rift. As he passed the mutilated corpse, an inky pool bubbled to the surface and enveloped the body. Tendrils of shadow grasped the ripped limbs. The once quasi human form stood in grotesque parody of a person. A grimace made with too long jaws showed black pointed teeth. Vincent returned the smile.

“Napana,” he muttered.

Orange runes flowed down the side of the Thunderbird. Honey slowly filling invisible channels. The spirit bound to his pistol bristled and burned in anticipation.

“Keahi,” he responded.

The runes flared once the flow reached the end of the slide in reply. The orange transmuted into sky blue.

The wretch whipped a tendril at Vincent, wrapping around his leg. As he fell to the ground, two shots flew at the creature. Napana’s enchantment ignited the bullets as they split the dark mass. Rings of fire burned where they punctured it.

“Aniaki’i,” Vincent uttered.

The runes slowly changed from sky blue to iridium in response. The tendrils drew Vincent up by his leg toward the gaping toothy maw. He fired again. Napana mirrored the two bullets, splitting them into a quartet. The shadowy head burst with the impact of four 10mm shots. Vincent was dumped unceremoniously to the ground.

Nearing the trapped lightning cloaked in orange, he cast a glance over his shoulder. A finger tapped the face of his watch. The planted explosive shattered the hemisphere. Flames leapt along concussion waves, reaching for Vincent. The orange doorway slammed resolutely shut against them.

He missed the Break already...

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Portal Rats #1: Feet of Flames

Planescape: Torment Enhanced was recently released, so I was in the mood to play a Planescape solo adventure. Coincidentally, Portal Rats was just released; a Black Hack Planescape hack. While I initially thought of using Black Stream's Solo Heroes to tweak damage values, I decided to play it almost as is. I used The Perilous Wilds to populate and theme the Five Room Dungeon after creating the adventure seed via Portal Rats.

Morcant’s light skinned muscular form is broken by patches of turquoise scales. He has uniformly black eyes, the color of raven feathers, with shoulder length hair to match. He wears the trappings of a corsair beneath an ashen gambeson which does little to conceal his webbed fingers and gills.

STR 12 DEX 09 CON 11
INT 09 WIS  13 CHA 11
HP 07
HD d8

ATTACK d6 / d4
ARMOR 2 / d4

PROFICIENCIES blunt weapons, swords, gambeson, leather, chain and shields
ADVANTAGE ON WIS saves and combat tests against Lower Celestial beings

RATIONS        d4
TORCH           d6

GEAR mace, gambeson, backpack, lantern, fresh rations, rope, flint and steel, wineskin, bedroll, flask of oil, fishing gear (d6), 3 silver feydds


How had he gotten away with it?

That thought crossed Morcant’s mind for the hundredth time. He stared across the icy waves of the Razor Tides at the looming island ahead of him. Behind him, the Many-colored Dimension waited. Three days was the agreement. Looking at the barren rocks ahead of him, he wasn't so sure about the three days.

Gal Kuhr sprang from the City of Lost Hope. Somehow, he had gained access to the Temple of Dwr and stolen a handful of blessed coins. A wretched thing. Purple skin mottled with red, rust hued claws, and feet that smoldered like cooling lava. Gal Kuhr was arrogant, intelligent and bred to survive in the city of sorrows. Somehow, that thing had crossed the Ocean of Razor Tides, infiltrated the temple, then made way back here. Wherever “here” was.

The boat ran aground, shards broken from the floes at sea cracking against it. Morcant gathered his gear and pulled the boat ashore. He had seen a cave somewhere, but the waves, and his brooding thoughts, had misplaced it. Above the sound of crashing waves, he could hear footsteps. Thuds and scrapes. Something large if it could be heard above and the tide. The lightly armored warrior crept forward, crouched low.

He wasn't much of a hunter, so stalking was not one of his specialties.  Still, he made his way up the coast and peeked from behind some rocks. Ceitan. Morcant counted three. He heard from some Rats they were called deer. They didn't fit the description, though. Ceitan wore antlers and had skin the color of night. Not black. Literally night, complete with stars shining beneath as if the creatures were walking glimpses into the night sky. As he turned to spy a way around them into the caves, his foot caused rocks to roll and clack down the slope behind him. One of the antlered heads shot up and gazed in his direction.

The first ceitan swiftly turned and ran off a few hundred yards. It paused, the star light grew in intensity, then it exploded into motes of fireflies with a hollow thump and flew further down the coast. The other two sniffed at the air and quickly followed. Morcant didn't want to deal with a herd of ceitan by himself anyway.

He took the lantern from his pack and illuminated inside the cave. There was a tunnel a few dozen feet back. Stone arches, a henge, he thought, circled the perimeter of the cave. The rocks were ancient. Old etched things were worn beyond comprehension. It may have been words, perhaps they were pictographs. Someone more intelligent than himself would likely take the time to study it.

Perhaps studying the henge would have been the better option. Morcant continued down the corridor and entered a second empty chamber. Empty aside from the trigger he had stepped on. And the falling block that came from the ceiling. As he desperately attempted to dive out of the way, his foot got caught beneath the weight of the fallen stone. That may, or may not, have helped him as spikes rose from tiny holes in the floor and ripped at his gambeson. If it were not for the watchful eye of Dwr, and the gambeson, he would be dead.

That was a near death experience. He thought it wise to rest here while he levered his foot from under the stone and take stock of the situation. Morcant checked over the tears in the armor; it was still serviceable. This was not an auspicious start…

Still, in the service of Dwr, he would find some way to recover the blessed tokens. There was just the one direction: forward. Which led to another chamber, but the tunnel forked forward and to the left and right. The lantern showed dirt, stone, and more of the faded etching. Though less faded, Morcant still couldn't read what the pictographs were trying to say. With a muttered prayer to Dwr, Morcant chose the left hand path.

He could hear low, guttural speech from up ahead. As cautious as he could be, his hard soled boots still seemed to echo in his ears. A purple skinned man stood in front of a stone arch, arms raised in ritual. Gal Kuhr turned and Morcant could see half of the thing’s grin.

“Late again, I see,” Gal Kuhr said in an inhuman tone. A hollow bass like rock shifting on rock in an empty market. It echoed itself without the aid of the cave walls. Within the cave, it sounded like being surrounded by copies of him.

“You stole from Dwr. I need to take it back,” Morcant replied.

“Spent,” Gal Kuhr retorted.


It started as a small sphere of moss green floating within the stone arch. The scent of green grass and the rush of a gentle breeze. The globe seemed to emanate the sound of a breath being quickly inhaled then held, then it suddenly expanded to fill the emptiness. Beyond the portal, Asphodel Meadows beckoned.

Behind Morcant, heavy foot steps echoed from the other tunnel. In the human realms, it may have been described as a twisted rhinoceros. Immense, thick skinned and a duet of horns. However, where its mouth would be, a roiling mass of tentacles lifted and appeared to taste the air. Its hooves smoldered with the same burning embers as Gal Kuhr’s. A khirs. Morcant drew his mace which crackled with energy: Dwr’s Will manifest. Lightning sent minute tendrils of electricity into the air surrounding the weapon and to the ground, snaking around the Paladin’s feet.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Gal Kuhr said smugly then stepped into the portal.

The khirs snorted and rushed at Morcant, who was barely able to step aside from the charge in the tight confines. Now the beast was in the chamber, giving the Paladin more room to work with. The mace crashed down on the thick skull and hide of the Burning creature. It barely seemed hurt.

With the additional room to maneuver, Morcant deftly avoided the horns as they raked across where he stood. His mace continued to rain down on the thing, but it had even less effect than the last strike.

Now the beast was angered and attempted to ensnare Morcant in its tentacled maw. The Paladin was guided by Dwr and the dance of combat, continuing to weave around his opponent’s flank. He swung the mace upward and felt Dwr drive the blessed mace home, smashing into the khirs jaw with an audible crack. Teeth shattered, shards of bone dropping to the cave floor. And, yet, it continued to fight.

The giant head swung toward Morcant’s chest, another foiled attempt at goring him on its horn. Morcant responded with a strike against the larger horn. Not as palpable as the previous attack, but it crashed loudly against the bone, tiny fissures opening along its length.

The khirs feebly tried stomping the Paladin with its feet. Awkward though it was, Morcant hadn’t expected it. His foot snaked out of the way, only his toes being smashed against the floor. A trivial price to pay. The mace arced down from above Morcant’s head and shattered the skull of the khirs beneath it. Lightning discharged with a thunderous roar, and the khirs collapsed to the ground.

Morcant’s breathing began to slow as he stood over the thing’s corpse. He glanced back the way he had come. The Dimension waited for his return. He looked at the portal with its offer of fresh, clean air and green grasses. Gal Kuhr was likely waiting for him. But this was in service of Dwr. There was only one path.

I will get those blessed tokens back...

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Freebooters of the Perilous Wilds, #0

The session begins with creating six villagers using Funnel World and putting them through the "Ghost Ship Demeter." Phrases in italics are GM questions or dice results.

Male Potter
Swan like neck, coarse personality
STR 09 (+0) DEX 04 (-2) CON 15 (+1) INT 13 (+1) WIS 06 (-1) CHA 08 (-1) LUC 10 / 11 (+0)
HP 4 / 4 Load 4 Damage d4
Club (close, 2 wt), burlap sack, 5 lbs. Of clay (2 wt)
I saved Edlyn from drink.

Broad brow, foolish
Female Ditch Digger
STR 08 (-1) DEX 12 (+0) CON 11 (+0) INT 14 (+1) WIS 14 (+1) CHA 14 (+1) LUC 11 (+0)
HP 3 / 3 Load 3 Damage d4
Shovel (close, awkward, 2 wt)
I respect Daryl for telling it like it is.

Small eyes, peaceful
Female Crofter
STR 12 (+0) DEX 12 (+0) CON 12 (+0) INT 15 (+1) WIS 17 (+2) CHA 09 (+0) LUC 14 (+1)
HP 3 / 3 Load 4 Damage d4
Pitchfork (close, reach, 1 wt), bushel of onions (4 rations, 2 wt)
Ellette and I seek knowledge about beasts and monsters.

Bald, sanctimonious
Female Fisherperson
STR 10 (+0) DEX 09 (+0) CON 06 (-1) INT 10 (+0) WIS 10 (+0) CHA 09 (+0) LUC 08 (-1)
HP 2 / 2 Load 4 Damage d4
Knife (hand), fishing net (reach, thrown)
I trust Oswine because they are wise.

Well groomed, pedantic
Male Dung carter
STR 10 (+0) DEX 10 (+0) CON 15 (+1) INT 11 (+0) WIS 08 (-1) CHA 16 (+2) LUC 08 / 09(+0)
HP 4 / 4 Load 4 Damage d4
Shovel (close, awkward, 2 wt), cart of dung
I lied to Eda about my faith.

Long torso, solitary
Female Tinker
STR 14 (+1) DEX 06 (-1) CON 03 (-3) INT 10 (+0) WIS 09 (+0) CHA 08 (-1) LUC 14 (+1)
HP 1 / 1 Load 5 Damage d4
Tinker’s tools
I will soothe Eorl’s concern about their missing loved one.

And so it begins...
Aaaah, the magnificence of a life at sea! Rum, brutality and the lash, surrounded by water that’ll drown you even as it remains undrinkable! What could your father have been thinking? Was he countin’ the coins that he and them other village elders received as a bonus for enlistin’ you an’ your “friends” as apprentice sailors on the briny deep? I’m sure they only had your welfare at heart when they sold you inta twenny years of servitude on the good ship Demeter, eh? But does that means it’s a good thing or a bad thing that when you woke up to swab the decks this mornin’, you discovered the rest of the crew’s gone missing in the night?

The cry of gulls overhead woke Edlyn from her uncomfortable sleep. She blearily sat up on the deck of the Demeter and looked about. It was empty.

What was your job on board the ship?

Edlyn was smart and wise for her years, suited for watching the stars and learning how to navigate a ship. The only one wiser than she was her sister Daryl. Daryl… Was she still on the  Demeter?

Explore the Demeter: 6-

There was no sign of her sister on deck. Walking back toward the ship’s wheel, Edlyn came across streaks of dark, dried blood. The trail suggested fingers clawing at the wood as whoever it was was pulled down stairs toward the office area. She recalled that this was off limits to anyone but the Captain and his staff. The former Ditch Digger shrugged and cautiously headed toward the office; for all she knew, the ship was abandoned.

Explore the Demeter: 7-9

Edlyn reached for the office door when a loud howl cut through the air. This was followed by a loud shout and the clang of metal on wood. A wolf? On a ship? Oswine? What in Lutano was going on? She burst through the door to find a grey beast snarling at Oswine, armed with a shovel. Another stood against the wall beside her. As she rushed to pick it up, the wolf leapt at Oswine with jaws open and sharp teeth reaching for Oswine’s throat.

Wolf (d8 damage, 6 HP)
Oswine: Fight 7-9 (burn 1 Luck)

Oswine swung the shovel which connected against the wolf’s head with a satisfying crack. The wolf shook its head as if to clear it. Visibly shaken, it renewed the attack on the carter. One pounce. Edlyn barely witnessed it. One pounce and Oswine was knocked to the floor, his throat being torn open as the wolf clamped its jaws around his neck.

Enraged, Edlyn rushed in to help the dying Oswine. The shovel she found struck heavily against the side of the wolf’s head. A second satisfying crack and the wolf lay still beside the still warm corpse. Blood flowed quickly from the gaping wound, pooling around Oswine’s head.

“We will bury you ‘neath the waters. Lutano’s light lead you,” she muttered.

She grabbed the second shovel and nudged the dead wolf with her foot. It remained still. Armed with two shovels, Edlyn surveyed the room. There must be some answers here. Besides scrolls and maps, there was only the Captain’s journal lying on the desk. She absently thumbed through its pages and found mention of another passenger. A nobleman with strange requests: room far back from the light, only seen on the main deck at night.

The lap of waves against the hull brought Edlyn back to the present. She shoved the book beneath her shirt. With a sad glance back at Oswine, she continued further into the ship.

Explore the Demeter: 7-9

She walked toward the aft of the ship, cautiously creeping through the dimly lit area toward the First Mate’s cabin. The lanterns were still lit, but the sounds were all wrong. As Edlyn opened the door into the cabin, a bat swooped out through the doorway, chittering loudly into the hall.

“What are you doing?” asked a voice behind her.

Edlyn jumped for the second time in as many heart beats. One shovel dropped to the floor as she gripped the other in both hands and spun.

“Eorl! Why would you sneak up on me like that?!” she exclaimed.

“Wasn't sneakin’. Walkin’. You weren't listenin’,” he replied, eyeing the shovel on the floor. “Lookin’ for folk?”

“I found Oswine. He was attacked by a wolf. He…,” Edlyn nodded back the way she had come.

“A wolf?” Eorl asked, clearly dubious of that.

“Look, if you don't believe me,  go look yourself. I was going to check the First Mate’s room. Maybe he knew something.”

Eorl shook his head. “If I didn't know better, I’d swear you were drinkin’ again. No, if there's wolves runnin’ ‘round a boat, we’ll search together.”

She turned and walked into the cabin. It was also dimly lit but the remnants of a fight were clearly written on the floor. Spatters of dried blood lined the wall with trails of it leading toward the door. A hand was the only thing left of what Edlyn and Eorl presumed was the First Mate.

“So much for that idea,” sighed Edlyn. “Maybe the Steward?”

Explore the Demeter: 6-
Who here is the worst landlubber?

Eda. She was an odd one. Stronger than the rest of them but sickly due to some disease. Her parents traveled a lot, which is why she was so skilled at fixing so many things. They found her looking at a chest, padlocked. With her set of tools, she began to unlock it.

“Hey, Eda,” Edlyn said, quietly so as not to disturb her.

“Hey,” came the reply as the lock snapped open.

Inside, they found a pick with a note hastily scribbled. Eda picked it up and tested it's swing. Eorl picked up the note and began to read.

“Says here he was scared the passenger was a demon or somethin’. Goin’ on ‘bout infernal skin and runnin’ water. Says he hid this for protection,” Eorl mumbled.

Eda glanced over at Eorl, her eyes displayed a distant sadness. “We’re surrounded by water,” she said.

The smell of the salty air cut through the gathering, a reminder that they were aboard a ship disturbingly empty. Edlyn cleared her throat.

“We need to find Daryl. Let’s try the Second Mate’s.”

Explore the Demeter: 6-

Daryl was studiously looking over a book in her hands, running her fingers along the leather cover and silver edged pages.

“Wish I could read this,” she said, barely glancing over as the others approached.

Edlyn watched Daryl with a bit of concern and a small amount of anger. “Lutano’s Light, do you have any idea…?”

“No,” said Daryl. “I was hoping this book had answers, but it's all gibberish.”

“Look,” Eorl cut in, “We need off this boat. I ain't gettin’ stuck in the middle of the ocean ‘cause we’re readin’. Let's find where we’re at then find a port.”

“Maybe they're in the mess?” volunteered Eda.

Explore the Demeter: 7-9

The mess was almost as empty as the rest of the ship. Ellette was unconscious on the floor beneath a table. The four rushed over to her side and brought her back to wakefulness.

“What an odd dream,” she said. “Remember those stories we read about vampires and werewolves?”

Daryl nodded.

“It had a dark forest beneath a haunting mountain… I think we were called,” Ellette continued.

“Called. That's one way to put it,” said Eorl.

“Called to do what?” asked Edlyn.

Daryl looked at the pick carried by Eda and the book she carried in her hands. “Perhaps something to do with these?”

Explore the Demeter: 7-9

The party rounded the corner and walked into the darkness of the ship’s hold. Eda walked along the perimeter and noticed an ebony coffin tucked against the far corner, furthest away from the stairs. Why were they transporting a corpse? Her tinkering nature begged her to open it and see what would call for such an ornate box.

Within, a grey skinned man lay upon a scattering of dirt. He was dressed in extravagant clothes. His hands clasped across his chest was marked by streaks of dried blood.

“Wha…,” her question was cut short as the figure snapped open his eyes. They glowed with a soft blue grey light. A hand shot up to grab Eda around the throat.

Eda: Fight 6-

Eda gasped, dropping the pick on the floor. The figure sat up and brought pearly fangs savagely down on her neck. Edlyn screamed and rushed in too late to save her friend. The shovel she carried smashed against the creature’s head. The thing barely registered it had been struck.

Eorl pulled the club from his belt and moved to the other side of the coffin. Daryl detachedly sprinted to the pick and gathered it in her arms. Ellette strode forward, feeling the power of her faith offering its protection as she pulled her knife free. The monster laughed and tossed Eda aside like a doll. His blue grey gaze focused on the resolute Ellette and launched himself from the coffin, a taloned hand swatting at her neck.

Ellette: Fight 7-9

The creature barreled into Ellette, knocking her to the floor. Ellette grimaced beneath his weight and shoved her knife into the thing’s chest. A solid strike that may have killed an ordinary person, but this monster continued to fight. The claw slashed open her throat with a single blow.

Eorl: Fight 10+ (burn 1 Luck)

Eorl took advantage of the creature’s exposed back. He strode over to the thing and smacked it across the back of its head. The head lurched forward from the impact, a faint crack of crushed bone. The monster looked upward with a demonic grin and reached for Eorl’s neck.

Eorl: Fight 10+

Eorl continued to fight, beating at the beast with his club. The weapon knocked the claw aside, but all the blows had no impact on the creature’s movements. Determined, the monster stalked forward.

Edlyn: Fight 6-

Edlyn brought the shovel down hard upon the thing’s back. The infernal skin the Steward had mentioned was proved true. The shovel snapped in half with the creature moving as if nothing happened. It smiled mockingly and dismissed Edlyn. The thing continued to hound Eorl, moving forward with inhuman speed with echoing laughter.

Eorl: Fight 7-9

The club rained down on the monster but, still, there was nothing gained. The hand clasped around Eorl’s throat as the thing continued to laugh maliciously.

Eorl: Resist Drain 7-9

His mind was filled with despair. Images of his brother’s corpse lying beneath a tree. Eda, who had helped him through the darkest moments. Edlyn, the one he sought to protect. All of it, it could be gone in a moment.

Daryl: Fight 7-9

Daryl took advantage of the distraction and struck at the thing from behind. The pick swung through the air and bit deeply into its body. It howled with rage as, finally, something managed to cause it significant harm.

The thing changed, its human guise melted and gave way to a bat form. It flapped and struggled to make an escape, barely able to fly straight after that last attack.

Daryl: Fight 10+

“Not today,” she said with an air of calm.

Her hand reached back then threw the pick at the fluttering bat. It shot forward and pinned the bat against the wall. The form shifted as the monster seemed human once more. The pick protruded from its back and into its heart. Daryl walked over and placed her foot against the wall to retrieve her pick.

“Lutano’s Light lead you,” said Daryl benevolently.


Edlyn gathered the corpses and prepared them for burial: hands and feet bound in iron and anchored with a ball and chain, the weight keeping the bodies submerged so they may rest and not walk ashore again. With the help of Eorl, they tossed each body into the ocean reciting, “May Lutano’s light lead you through the murk.”

Daryl was in the Captain’s office, looking over bloodstained charts. She had a couple of trinkets lying on the desk she had recovered from the coffin and cabins. A circlet of blackened metal set with a ruby and a pair of reading glasses made of a silver metal. The reading glasses allowed her to read the strange script written in the book, and the strange circlet became The Ghost Helm. With it, the Demeter would never be without a crew. Now, she needed a destination.

Who among you can read the stars?

Edlyn walked into the room, wearing a reassuring smile after completing such a grim task. Daryl mirrored that smile, knowing exactly who could navigate the stars. They had a ship, a crew, and now a destination...

The aftermath. The survivors choose a playbook from Freebooters on the Frontier and reach level 1.
DARYL DE ROSSI, female 1st level Magic User with 0 XP
Daryl has small grey eyes and brown hair with oily skin from long hours in the laboratory. She is bold, humble and peaceful.

STR 12 (+0) DEX 12 (+0) CON 12 (+0) INT 16 (+2) WIS 17 (+2) CHA 09 (+0) LUC 14 (+1)
ARMOR 0 HD d4 HP 3 / 3

Know Your Stuff
Spellbook: 3 power
Study Spellbook
Inscribe Spell
Cast a Spell

GEAR (Load 4)
Spellbook (1 wt), The Ghost Helm (+1 power), Reading Glasses, pick (1d6, 1 wt, awkward, close, 2 pierce), bushel of onions (4 rations, 2 wt)

Incredible Greed
Semideus’ Shaft of Hatred

EDLYN DE ROSSI, female 1st level Cleric with 0 XP
Beneath her broad brow, Edlyn has piercing hazel eyes. Her shoulder length brown hair barely conceals the pair of snake fangs tattooed on either side of her neck. She is idealistic and honorable but sometimes lazy.

STR 08 (-1) DEX 12 (+0) CON 11 (+0) INT 14 (+1) WIS 15 (+1) CHA 14 (+1) LUC 11 (+0)
ARMOR 0 HD d8 HP 7 / 7

Know Your Stuff
Disciple of Lutano (Truth): Find answers for those who ask.

GEAR (Load 7)
Iron ball and chain holy symbol, shovel (1d4, 2 wt, awkward, close)

EORL MORETTI, male 1st level Fighter with 0 XP
Eorl possesses a swan like neck and braided auburn hair. Beneath his coarse personality, he is selfless and willing to help his friends.

STR 09 (+0) DEX 04 (-2) CON 16 (+2) INT 13 (+1) WIS 06 (-1) CHA 08 (-1) LUC 11 / 11 (+0)
ARMOR 0 HD d10 HP 12 / 12

Know Your Stuff
Favored weapon (club)
Bend bars, lift gates
No guts, no glory

GEAR (Load 10)
Club (1d6, 2 wt, close), burlap sack, 5 lbs. Of clay (2 wt)