First time on Roll d20.

Lace Falls screen shot

I lacked the technical know-how to insert a floor plan on the map level, but I like what I ended up with better anyway. It would not work for all scenarios, but it worked for this one. I made a token for Team One (You can see it in the middle, in one of the towers) and then under the heading “Team One” they put their characters.

We referred back and forth between the evocative picture and a top-down area sketch of the areas in the picture, so that kept the art forefront in their imaginations as we went. I think that worked pretty well.

I advised them how to use their circles on their tokens, you can see that in the text on the lower left.

I put the unused tokens for characters under my “fog of war” area, also the pre-prepared monster tokens. So when I needed a monster, I dragged it out of the fog to where the players could see it. If I needed more than one, I copy pasted it. When I was done with the monster, it went back into the fog. I planned on that being very abstract, but they sometimes arranged their tokens around it for relative positioning. All in all, I think it worked out pretty well.

Another document in the background was a shared Googledoc that I pre-set with a miniature character sheet and some character creation guidance. We were going to fill that in when we started, but since I linked to it ahead of time (and character creation is, to understate, PRETTY EASY,) the characters were pretty much made before we started.

Characters ItO Lace Falls

Under that, this text:

Character generation: roll 3d6 for each ability score. You may swap any two scores.

STRENGTH: fighting, fortitude, toughness.

DEXTERITY: Stealth, athletics, reflexes.

WILLPOWER: Confidence, discipline, and charisma.

Start with 1d6 hit points, a measure of the ability to avoid life-threatening damage.

Everyone in the expedition has: 1 combat knife (1d6), 1 lantern, basic climbing gear and 30 feet of rope, mapping kit, camping equipment, and 5 days rations. (Tellurian military surplus)

Those starting with guns get 30 bullets that fit each gun.

I put out an open call for players in my G+ circles and figured I’d get maybe 5-6, with 1-2 cancellations; enough to game. I got NINE YES REPLIES, which was astonishing to me. I wondered if I could do it, or if I was being too ambitious, but I decided to take a crack at it. In the last six hours before the game I had three cancellations, and even six was a lot of people to try and manage spotlight time, but I think it turned out great.

I also have a G+ circle of people who want to be notified next time I put together an expedition Into the Odd. It has 29 people in it. This one is likely to make it to the table again, I think.

In the meantime, my ongoing development of the setting continues here.

https://fictivefantasies.wordpress.com/into-the-odd-open-table/

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Many Masks of Lace Falls: Into the Odd

I had a great group of six (!) players for my first attempt at a Roll d20 game. They took on the possibly abandoned fey fortress on Lace Falls, on the Missouri River.

waterfall-castle

Sixty veterans were hired by Sir Atticus Bellows to mount an assault on the fortress. It was previously the fortress of Thrustus, a fey knight who hunted humans for sport. The site was festooned with wytherwitch weed, a common fire-and-forget scorched earth technique the fey used. He is almost certainly not home, but his trophies may be, so it was worth exploring. One guilder to make the attempt, and four for each survivor.

Twenty vets attacked on small boats, coming from the north. Twenty came across the east bridge, and twenty (including our characters) on the west bridge.

As they attacked, the wytherwitch manifested and tried to drain them; the ex-soldiers found the pods feeding the tendrils and killed them. One of them, a one-eyed melee warrior named Hayes, swung down on a rope to cut down the last of it that the guns didn’t get. Passing other wounded and retreating warriors, the crew grimly closed in on the catheralesque fortress.

Glassic Attack

They got in to the top balcony in a big central chamber, to see the stained glass panels sliding down and coalescing into killing machines. They combined bombs and gunfire to try and shatter them, and Hayes raced down to the floor to fight a mass that threatened other teams. When he was knocked down by a combination of friendly fire and cutting surfaces, the team leader Oliver more-or-less bungeed down to help out, and was promptly cut down by the fey construct.

Finally they managed to put it down, bloody and battered. They saw the other fights had moved elsewhere, so they rested a bit. They were approached by odd bundled corpse-like marionette things of dead soldiers, who popped out twig bundles with pre-built spiderwebs in them. They gunned the abominations down. Shaken and uneasy, they continued into a tower.

Trophy Masks

They found masks with the dying essence of the victim trapped inside, in the same room with silk and bone constructs. Probably shouldn’t let those meet! They fired on a mask that floated across the room, and set all the constructs on fire, then retreated from the thick smoke.

On the middle balcony, they saw the 12 foot tall frame of the fey knight, wrapped in a dozen trophy masks including a glamor mask on his face. By now they suspected some kind of puppet master, as several things they fought seemed to be under remote control. They kept a keen eye out for the one pulling the strings. A bush by the throne was festooned in spiderweb, and was used as a sounding board to taunt them.

In the meantime, they found the throne could only be seen from this level, not the level above or below. They fired on the knight, but found the results unsatisfying. They went upstairs and got a glimpse of the puppet master, a spider/centaur/man thing. They fired blind on where they thought it might be, then pulled back warily, still cloaked in the smoke from the fire downstairs.

Puppet Master

While they were debating, the knight leaped up to the balcony to fight them, spear in hand! Hayes retreated to the throne, where he found the spider man thing, who was muttering that surely the combat would wake the master (like he couldn’t accept his master was dead.) Hayes battled the spider thing with a mad rush, and Oliver rappelled down to help him out, while the others fought the knight to a standstill.

The spider man thing fired out thorns, knocking Oliver down but not stopping Hayes. Meanwhile the massive cannon Gilbert toted around continued firing at foes, helping knock the knight down (though it was his cut strings that did him in.)

They found that the knight’s corpse was a puppet that his servant was using, trying to get him to come back to life by staging a proper bloody battle. Cutting open the knight and the spider thing were both unpleasant tasks.

Each adventurer took a single mask, and headed back to report their success. They were paid four guilder each, and they became properly seasoned adventurers. (And Marcus bought Oliver a proper rappelling harness.)

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What About Bastion?

From the description of the city of Bastion in the “Into the Odd” book:

Bastion is the self-proclaimed capital of civilization. Its skies are black with smoke and its streets bustling with residents from every corner of the world. Vast factories produce mass goods and new prototypes.

Mobs flood Bastion’s streets with hanged corpses in their search for otherworldly impostors. Meanwhile, countless star cults have vastly different beliefs and agendas, rarely coexisting peacefully.

In the official Into the Odd setting there is but one significant city, and that is Bastion. Here are ten things to remember about the city. Sure, you may hear of the Golden Lands and other such places to go, but Bastion is the center of humanity in all ways.

industrial_rev_housingIn my Tellurian setting, Bastion is a prison.

Captives and prisoners of war during the long eight years of the Arcanum War were all relegated to this massive urban setting. Take a cue from Dark City; it is unknowable because the city changes. It is also unknowable because the fey have a direct port into the minds of all those who drink the water and eat the food of this place, and if something is not to be known or remembered, it is not known or remembered.

Hopesend Port? Some people have vague memories of going there, and it was an awful place. Because the prison is stronger if no one tries to escape.

Then take a cue from the Matrix; humans are imprisoned there, and offer up their lives and energies more often than they realize, but to keep them from revolting they must believe it. They must believe Bastion is the world, not an alien prison. So, it suits the fey to give them all the worst they expect from each other, and a limited flavor of the best.

Bastion was designed to be so vague it requires customization, which reveals something of your Referee. I’m riffing off that to suggest that Bastion is so vague because the fey decided to give the humans the prison they deserve. Bastion is the result; they have made it what it is, with the good and the evil that goes along with that.

The High Council rules Bastion, and is also the Delicate Court of Walls (a decidedly Unseelie flavor of the fey.) They keep the city’s secrets from all but the insane or the watchful rebels that penetrate the ruse. They feast on the forgotten and they are delirious on the waves of misery and lust that roil up from the stone cages that their prisoners pay each other to occupy.

Humanity reveals itself as an ouroboros, its food chain a snake eating its own tail. There are those who struggle for the greater good, but if you scratch their veneer hard enough you see their crusade is for their own self image, or for the good of their tribe. The ruthless seek to concentrate wealth and power and comfort in their own hands, and those who lack their focus end up in awful circumstances, bewildered by the harshness of it all but pathetically grateful for a pittance that allows survival and shelter.

Now and then a remarkable thinker, a bright soul, a true visionary rises up to show the people a better way.

Those people disappear in Bastion without a trace.

industrial_rev_street.

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The Devil, John Moulton (Part 1)

devil-john

I agreed to playtest this game, even though it’s been out for quite a while. I understand there’s a revision in the works. Well, I love to help with playtesting games. I got a couple stalwart players to help out in an online game, and off we went!

Erasmus Bower was a moral and upright man, the sheriff of Ugly Buffalo. His son Francis went bad, becoming a murderer, just for fun. Then Francis (or Franco, as he prefers to be called) met a husky-voiced stranger who offered to graft a demon to him, to satisfy his urges in new creative ways. The young man gleefully accepted the offer, and gained the power to turn people inside out, either explosively or with the slow bloom of peeling flesh and skin.

Sheriff Bower was distressed, but could he kill his own son? And would any prison hold the witch? Still, the net of the law closed around the young man, and he was to be tried and hanged by the neck until dead. Frantic when faced with the prospect of losing his son, Bower broke his moral code and stole some evidence, hoping to stave off his son’s execution. He was caught, and imprisoned in turn. Bitter and terrified at what could happen now, Bower was distraught already before the slim stranger stepped into the gaol and offered him freedom, for the price of a couple demons riding his soul. Bower accepted, gaining the ability to supernaturally track anyone (as long as he stole something of theirs first) and also the ability to condemn anyone, so demons dragged them to Hell in front of everyone. (Of course, as a catch, an innocent soul is released from Hell the first time he uses this power.)

Too late, Moulton whispered to Bower that he made a deal with Franco, too. Betrayed and furious, Bower swore to track Moulton down and put an end to his deals and his damnation, to punish him for corrupting Francis. He heard the warlock was headed to Coyote Creek, so he gave chase.

Meanwhile, Marrion Belton Manley was a gunfighter. His father was abusive, and he went too far one night. As Marrion’s mother lay dying, she made the young man promise he would kill his father, to avenge her. He swore he would. Intimidated by his terrifying father, he labored under a sense of fair play, and his father beat him within an inch of his life. Shamed and afraid, Manley ended up burning down the whole town to conceal the cowardly attack that he launched to kill his father. He fled the ruin of Sandy Corners.

Injured and possibly dying, he made it a ways before collapsing. On the one hand, he needed to get word to his mother that he succeeded. On the other hand, now that he killed his father he knew he was going to Hell, and he did not want to do that under any circumstances! He was obsessed with survival, maybe even forever, when the crunch of John Moulton’s boots announced the warlock’s presence.

Moulton grafted a demon to Manley’s soul, allowing him to take in the life energy of others to assure his own survival.

Feeling more damned than ever, and sensing the Hellfire waiting below, Manley determined he would end the devil, John Moulton. He followed the warlock to Coyote Creek.

At Coyote Creek, both Manley and Bower tracked down the witch Mazie Hester, who was a nun that eavesdropped on confessions, and had the power to lock people in illusions in their own minds. They put paid to her mischief, and as they were considering their next move, they followed the signs to Cripple Creek.

By now they knew some of the signs that attended the movements of John Moulton. Wherever he went, there were slow and gruesome cattle mutilations (like what Franco Bower was able to do.) Also, the water would start to smell of sulfur, and a little algae would turn it red with lumps, like viscera. Still, it was difficult to sneak up on Moulton; he could smell the shadows of all the witches that made deals with him, so it was impossible to approach him with the element of surprise. Still, with the death of Hester, they discovered that Moulton marked all his witches with a tattoo of the suicide king. Now they could identify their marks.

There they met Percy, a little boy. He escaped from a child slavery ring in a coal mine in Mournful Brook. The signs lined up. Time to go. They left Percey in Cripple Creek and headed out to try and catch up to the devil John Moulton.

The Approach

As they reached the point halfway between Cripple Creek and Mournful Brook, a wicked sandstorm blew up out of nowhere, savaging them and killing their horses. They hid and were buried by rocks, but the storm exhausted itself. Shortly after, an old prospector named Finder dug the dazed and overwhelmed hunters out and escorted them towards town.

He explained he had a gambling debt with the mayor/sheriff/big guy, “Shark” Nelson. If they could get him to forget the debt, Finder would consider them to be even for him saving their lives. Then he sloped off, and they headed down to main street.

There they saw a ragged old preacher mumbling to himself. He sniffed, yelled “Witches!” and came up with a rusty old gun. Bower reacted fast, whipping his gun out and firing into the old priest’s forearm, blowing the gun apart and crippling him. Only quick action on Manley’s part kept the old priest from dying on the spot. While Manley was hard at work staunching the blood, Shark Nelson approached Bower and congratulated him on his self-defense.

The wavering old barber and some of his lads took the old priest off, and everyone else convened in the public house. Shark chatted them up, making no secret of his power in town and his exploitation of the people, but hoping to attract a railroad nearby with the coal mine; railroads were the key to greater wealth. Shark seemed to think Bower was the one to talk to, and Manley was an underling.

Shark invited Bower to the poker game (which would no doubt please Finder, who wanted Bower to deal with his debt situation with Shark.) Talking about the preacher, he noted that the old man had taken to accusing everyone of witchcraft; himself, the mine foreman, everyone. The newcomers. Hah, what a joke!

The door burst open, and a Texan came in with guns blazing; Bower and Manley took cover, letting Shark handle himself. When the bullets stopped flying, Shark sent men after the Texan, who was sprinting away. Something about confusing him for a wanted man in Texas, which is obvious nonsense. The Texan was let off with a warning before; this time he’ll get warned to death.

Demon Sign

The hunters took their leave, intensely disliking Shark. They saw the liquid in the alcohol was not corrupted by Moulton, so they wanted to check the modest water tower. Climbing it, they found it was indeed corrupt. Also, enough of the algae growing together could serve as a body for a spirit; it hauled itself up to talk to them, mistaking them for Moulton because it smelled his demonic energy on them.

Bower told it to wait, and tried to drain the tower (it plugged the hole.) The hunters withdrew, badly shaken from seeing the monster, and not sure what to do with it. Drain the tower? Knock it down? Leave it alone?

They heard cattle screaming, and jogged over to investigate. Turns out it was a cow giving birth. Linda West was managing the birth process, while a couple of her “assistants” looked on. Manley jumped in to help out, feeling far less sullied by this process than by the water tower. He chatted up the veterinarian, Linda West, who expressed her frustration with the town. With the corrupt sheriff/mayor who showed up with ill-gotten wealth years ago and turned it into local power. With the useless priest and his useless parish. She confirmed that two weeks ago, full moon, was when the coyotes and cougars acted strangely aggressive. The water went bad. There have been a number of still-births since then too (this cow was lucky.)

The afternoon was fading, so they got directions to the priest’s chapel and headed out to look the place over. It was elevated off the ground on stumpy pillars, and they heard snakes under the church. They looked the neglected place over, noting the broken windows and signs of wildlife. His room was spare and basic; Bower took his sermon notes for analysis. He also saw the bible was marked up with charcoal, emphasizing demon passages and crossing out whole pages elsewhere. He took the Good Book too.

As they were leaving, they heard a rattlesnake right under the front porch steps. Manley leaped out and confronted the snake, noting it was yellow and burgundy, with human eyes. It evaded his gunshots and bit his leg. The poison super-charged the demon inside him, and he heard Moulton whisper into his mind that he didn’t appreciate being pursued like this.

Bower tried to help, cutting at the wound and draining it; some venom spattered on his hand, burning, and sent out his pain and injury and flesh as a beacon for some monster to follow and destroy. They could feel Moulton’s smug satisfaction as Manley struggled, unsteady with demonic energy, and something began unfurling to hunt Bower.

No time for that now. They had a poker game to attend.

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Quickening Storm

This is a taste of my Edge City game. At one point in the game I got to describe a quickening storm, which I greatly enjoy. I wanted to share that description, because I’m proud of how it went at the table (I was not operating from notes or anything.) It was like a moment of good boxed text, with no reading.

quickening stormBrief background; demons went through a torturous process to break enough “seals” or moments of unlikely coincidence and/or breaking power structures, to open a Brass Embassy in Edge City. The heroes are trying to break enough seals to close it, and a close ally found them a list of seals they had to break to scour the embassy out.

One of the characters is the key, she is absorbing different kinds of energy and having different elements of fate swirl about her so she is the focus of the effort to close the Brass Embassy. She is a mutant who is infected with warpstone. One of the seals is “Capture a storm of deathless light in flesh.” The characters rightly interpreted that as a quickening storm, from the death of an immortal.

Then they found a hidden stash of “bright souls” as they were raiding a spirifer’s cache. Spirifers steal souls for hell, and this cache had a dozen normal souls and a few bright blue ones. What is that about? In studying them over, they realized the containers were folded dimensionally by use of the Correspondence, the alphabet of Hell, to contain their energy. Further, they realize these souls are from immortals, captured quickening storms.

They break one open, and it crackles across everyone present, but doesn’t infuse the key properly. So, they dig into their lore and realize that the energy simply returns to the ley lines of the earth, rebounding into a foundling that someone will encounter and raise to be an immortal.

Fortunately one of them owns a pocket dimension, so they go there. Another of them is a shaman, so she cajoles the spirit of the immortal out of its energy so they can talk to him. He tells them that in his youth it was prophesied that he would help scour Hell from earth, and he didn’t believe it, but now he does. He agrees to voluntarily merge his life energy with the key. “Are you prepared to carry me?” he asks. “Then brace yourself.”

I went back to the session recording and pulled this out.

So he grabs you by the shoulders, then lets out a bark, and bodyslams you at close range, like he’s trying to put his shoulder back in its socket on your face. You can’t even stagger back, you are rooted to the spot. A quickening storm flares through you. Something that you didn’t realize about a quickening storm is that when it hits, some measure of skill and knowledge from the one that is dying flows into the survivor. You actually pick up Fencing 3. He brings that to the table.

As the energy crashes into you and slides through your neural pathways and rewrites you, you have a peculiar flickers of memory, of bamboo glades, and swordfighting with a blind master that you know and trust, and teaching a class of children, and there are a succession of women whose faces come and go. Each one is attached to profound sadness that moves into happiness, and moves into the profound sadness of meeting someone new. The sun swirls overhead so fast, over and over and over in a wobbling pattern; you feel your life energy bound together by a gold thread that punctures again and again and again as it goes through you and around you; being bound to the earth by day after day after day.

The energy flares along your bones and along your muscles as they remember things they’ve never done, and you feel the weight of a hundred thousand things you can never undo sliding to and through you. You realize some of it is his, and some of it he inherited; as you get his life energy, what is poured into you is all the ingredients that poured into him, over time; the battles he fought and won. You have flickers of (difficult to even describe) this peculiar whipping show of fashions, and loves, and hates, and touching, and breathing, and hard words and soft words, and it all swirls together as though for just a moment, you touched your hand to the red hot stove of human experience, and by the time you yank it back all of you is smoking and steaming. You fall to your knees, spent. Energy is rolling off of you in waves. Meanwhile as you look around, you see lighting has sizzled through the greenery around you.

You look at your hands, and a hundred seconds pass in three seconds, and in each of those seconds, you flicker through an identity that does not recognize those hands as your own. Then each identity is folded and pressed against the inside of your bones, and you realize that you carry within you the life energy of maybe hundreds of human lives.

 In your shadow, you now cast shadows as though every life you have ever absorbed is a light in front of you, and that’s what your shadow is; all of those interleaving overlapping shadows. And in between them is where you keep your sword. If you meditate, you may be able to find it, if you pick through those shadows. Normally you put it there, you remember where it is and you can pull it out. Nobody comes to this all at once, you have one Quickening before you start.

My players were very tolerant of my beatnik poetry slam there (though they did not snap their fingers.) Every now and then it’s cool to let those weird and alien experiences have room to breathe at the game table.

I can’t wait for her to sift through her shadows until she finds the sword waiting there for her. =)

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Blades in the Dark: Skirting Danger

BitD Title_01 by James Dudli

Wolfram disappeared unexpectedly for a while, probably on walkabout for the Forgotten Gods. Duster was called back to Carrow to take care of some business there.

So it was that Aldo was the only one to answer the call when Lysander summoned the Unrecommendables. Lysander was NOT happy. A tough gang broke into the fifth floor using clever manipulation of ladders, beat up his security, and stole twelve of his favorite workers (fancy lads and ladies.) Now Lysander had questions. Was the theater ready to begin? Not yet. What was his protection crew going to do about his missing employees? Retrieve them.

To assist towards that end, Lysander insisted the Unrecommendables allow Joben, a tough cutter from the Dagger Isles, to join their crew. (Fortunately he came with a gang of rooks led by Harmony, a clever lady.) Aldo welcomed Joben into the crew, and introduced him around, then the scoundrels got busy figuring out what happened with the Tenpenny Court Upstairs Network abduction.

Nosing Around

Joben sent Harmony and the rooks to see what they could find out. She was worried as she reported back; a group called the Wax Masks had been doing smaller-scale abductions all over the neighborhood, and they were tough. Because they were spirits riding borrowed bodies, they were stronger and tougher and faster than a person would be. Harmony hoped they wouldn’t make enemies of this up-and-coming crew.

Together, Joben and Aldo went to see Baz, Aldo’s friend from way back, leader of the Lampblacks (and enemy to Lysander.) Baz was happy to see them, and introduced them to Severen, new leader of the Red Sashes (reduced to a temple, fencing school, and drug hookup business supervised by the Crows now.) Severen offered a truce to the Unrecommendables, along with a fine dagger. Aldo was happy to accept.

Aldo was not happy that Baz grabbed his arm and muttered that he should leave this abduction thing alone. He didn’t like the look in Baz’ eye as they discussed it.

Aldo consulted with Vincen, leader of the adept gang. Vincen explained he won a bet with another adept, since he said the Unrecommendables would go head-on at this new and very dangerous group earlier rather than later. On a more somber note, he knew the Crows had done some checking into the Wax Mask, which was named after their leader and also after their habit for riding hollows (and hollowing out the original owners). As they talked it over, Vincen suggested Baz might be making a play on the Crows, and bringing in an outside crew to help. Aldo did not like the implications, not one bit.

Fancy Recruitment

Aldo and Joben began recruiting replacements for the workers Lysander lost–no easy feat, as he was a great recruiter and had a rapport with his employees. As soon as he heard what they were up to, he came to the Phrenological Emporium and confronted Aldo, who assured him that rescue would happen later but this was to keep the business afloat in the meantime. Lysander grudgingly accepted that rationale.

Burning through their reserve funds, Joben and Aldo networked and cajoled their way across the city, convincing a few key independent operators to work for Lysander, then using that name recognition power to bring more independents on board. Finishing out their funds and dipping into the theater fund, they threw a party in an abandoned church.

Lysander was mostly persuaded to accept this gesture, but he required a little more money to seal the deal. Then he took his new employees home, and the relieved but exhausted scoundrels wrapped it up. (Early on in the party Harmony’s rooks chafed under Joben’s tone-deaf social instruction, and they sent him off to the hagfish pits to bet on the races and leave the party alone.)

Looking for Quick Coin

They need a score, and fast. They decided to go for something easy, and checked into who might know about old Red Sash hidden money. They found out about Old Kurzwile, a blind bookkeeper for the Red Sashes, who was supposed to know of such scores. Unfortunately, as Joben got this intelligence, Marsden (gang leader for the Black Eyes, a Lampblack gang) also overheard. A race!

Aldo got to a contact, Tanya, a circus performing knife thrower who was reputed to know where Old Kurzwile was hidden. Marsden was hot on his heels, in spite of Joben leading a diversion to pull the eager Lampblack gangers off the scent. The circus crowd called for the matter to be won in a sing-off, which Aldo handily managed; he was escorted out while Marsden was delayed.

Aldo found himself in a dark barge where the blind scribe lived with his birds. Old Kurzwile was eerie, his voice deep and his manner strange. He agreed to help Aldo on behalf of his master, whose scent was on Aldo.  Kurzwile told him that some forbidden books, the Kasdan Poetry Cycle, were hidden in the Delavian Estate in the couch in the carriage house.

Old Kurzwile also told him that he would need to help Isaac, a pale white boy who came out from a back room (was there the sound of a massive bird in there?) Aldo found Isaac unsettlingly familiar, and gave him a chocolate bar to make friends. (Isaac ate it without taking the wrapper off first.) Kurzwile said Isaac would need Aldo’s help. Aldo agreed, but left him there (which was apparently okay).

Kurzwile also said he would die that very night, and soon. Aldo took his leave before it happened, as Kurzwile requested.

The Delavian Estate

Aldo sent his adepts to check out the place’s mystical defenses; they found twig carving alarms on the doors and windows, but not on the carriage house. Also, an invisible mastiff prowled the grounds. They could distract it for up to twenty minutes, if they prepared.

Joben scouted the place in person, watching the guards from a nearby rooftop. There were more than he expected, and they had vantage points of their own. He was noticed, and a couple guards sent to bring him in for questioning.

He tried to escape the roof gracefully, to no avail. He tried to play the part of the buffoon, but they weren’t buying it. The guards detained him, and as they descended the close quarters of the stairwell, Joben snapped into action. One of them slashed his armor to ribbons, then he drew his trench knife and killed them both. He ran, taking the long way to the Emporium, and reported his findings.

Sobered but determined, the crew laid their plans.

The night of the heist, the adepts lured the invisible mastiff away. Joben and Aldo crept up to the carriage house, but rounded the corner and confronted two guards! Aldo teleported behind one and shivved him, but the other put up a hell of a fight against Joben, trying to raise the alarm before both ganged up on him. Before Joben snapped his neck, the guard carved a nasty cut down the big man’s ribs.

Aldo blinked up to the balcony, noting the room was converted as a prison to keep someone IN. He entered the room, and found the pale child who looked just like Isaac, and said his name was Isaac, but had no memory of meeting Aldo before.

Aldo quickly retrieved the books from inside the couch (Isaac had read some of them, and they were naughty, with symbolic sex acts then more explicit ones.) Laden with books, they escaped (noting that there was a panorama/painting designed to fool the eye that the whole loft was visible from below.) Down the ladder, not the stairs (to avoid the cemetery gun) and rendezvousing with Joben outside.

They raced for where they left the ladder propped against the wall to get out, barely escaping ahead of the invisible mastiff named Hurricane (who drank in their scent as they retreated.)

Aldo dropped the forbidden books off with Amancio to be fenced, getting 2 Coin. They took Isaac home to see what he would come to remember over time.

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Jolly Underground Ghost Cruise (formatted)

So far this is my favorite adventure Chris McDowall has done for his game Into the Odd. I want to run this scenario! But I do not want to run the scenario from a web page. So, I got it tidied up into four pages; one for the setup and overall route, one for orchestrated events, one for real events, and one for a couple nice pictures from the post.

I DID NOT WRITE THIS. But I thought if someone else wanted to run it, I could save them the effort of putting it in a more accessible format.

Jolly Underground Ghost Cruise

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