Eagle-eyed Fabled Lands aficionado John Jones has spotted an error in the regular-format edition of The Serpent King's Domain. Luckily it's not a catastrophic crash-type bug -- you can still play the book -- but irritating nonetheless. I can only apologize to those who snapped up copies as soon as they went on sale.
The mistake is in section 929 where the negative modifiers for the CHARISMA roll have been missed out. That table of modifiers should look like this:
That only applies to the regular (5" x 8") paperback, not to the large-format (8" x 10") edition with the colour map on the back. And of course, all copies of both editions sold from now on have the modifiers included.
If you already bought the book and were stymied by that section -- well, why don't we say you got to make the roll with no negative modifier? So there's an upside for you rogues and low-rankers. And if you ever encounter me or Jamie and present us with one of the uncorrected copies, we'll sign and certify it as a special "Sig's blessing edition". Deal?
Tuesday 27 February 2018
Friday 23 February 2018
Roleplaying write-ups
I sometimes wonder whether game write-ups wouldn’t be a perfectly good way of communicating the essential ideas in a scenario. Published scenarios, after all, are a format that was really created just to sell books. They’re about as useful for running a game as reading the itinerary of somebody’s trip to Provence would be for having a similar vacation.
And in any case, just as in war few plans survive contact with the enemy, and in software development the design is bound to evolve once coding starts, no pre-written scenario can (or should) be run without adapting to what the players do. If they break it, then great – they’re the heroes; that’s what they’re there for.
With a write-up, you’re getting to see how one group of players tackled a situation. If it inspires the referee to come up with something for his or her group, that’s much better than a list of programmed encounters, because every scenario needs to be customized to fit what’s gone before in the campaign. You couldn’t just take a script written for Hill Street Blues, change the names, and insert it into NYPD Blue. In the same way, published scenarios are selling the promise of something that cannot work.
Here are a couple of write-ups of mine. One is in the form of a comics page for a Tekumel campaign I ran back in 1980. The characters had voyaged to the far side of the continent and found themselves in a deserted palace. They relaxed into unexpected luxury but had a rude awakening when a mechanical sentinel turned up at dawn. (That’s why one of the characters was still in just a tunic.) The “Eye” that explodes is an ancient technological device, probably the Eye of Frigid Breath or the Terrible Eye of Raging Power, given the way that Kinamru tries to use it.
The other write-up (below) is the finale of “The Night of the Jackals”, a published scenario for Cthulhu by Gaslight, though much altered to fit our party by referee Tim Savin. I’ve previously recounted the rest of the scenario. At the end we all got killed and came back to life as regenerating semi-immortals. That was pretty much it for my character, who’d been conceived as a Victorian aesthete, not a steampunk superhero, but this was how I processed that finale. A different player would have had a different experience and come up with a different account of it – but that’s the whole point.
And in any case, just as in war few plans survive contact with the enemy, and in software development the design is bound to evolve once coding starts, no pre-written scenario can (or should) be run without adapting to what the players do. If they break it, then great – they’re the heroes; that’s what they’re there for.
With a write-up, you’re getting to see how one group of players tackled a situation. If it inspires the referee to come up with something for his or her group, that’s much better than a list of programmed encounters, because every scenario needs to be customized to fit what’s gone before in the campaign. You couldn’t just take a script written for Hill Street Blues, change the names, and insert it into NYPD Blue. In the same way, published scenarios are selling the promise of something that cannot work.
Here are a couple of write-ups of mine. One is in the form of a comics page for a Tekumel campaign I ran back in 1980. The characters had voyaged to the far side of the continent and found themselves in a deserted palace. They relaxed into unexpected luxury but had a rude awakening when a mechanical sentinel turned up at dawn. (That’s why one of the characters was still in just a tunic.) The “Eye” that explodes is an ancient technological device, probably the Eye of Frigid Breath or the Terrible Eye of Raging Power, given the way that Kinamru tries to use it.
The other write-up (below) is the finale of “The Night of the Jackals”, a published scenario for Cthulhu by Gaslight, though much altered to fit our party by referee Tim Savin. I’ve previously recounted the rest of the scenario. At the end we all got killed and came back to life as regenerating semi-immortals. That was pretty much it for my character, who’d been conceived as a Victorian aesthete, not a steampunk superhero, but this was how I processed that finale. A different player would have had a different experience and come up with a different account of it – but that’s the whole point.
The
End of the Affair
‘What chance of a getting a drink now, do you
suppose?’
‘Even
the orchestra has packed up, but I did find this bottle of whisky rolling
around. It’s blended, I’m afraid.’
‘Any
port in a storm. By the way, aren’t you Dr Dakkar Singh?’
‘Ice?’
‘Quite
enough of that for one night. Thanks. Well, bottoms up.’
‘Jaikara. And yes, I am Dakkar Singh.’
‘If
we wedge these armchairs here, they won’t slide about too much. I say, I
wouldn’t normally, you know, but under the circumstances… I have to ask.
Weren’t you mixed up in that business in Hampstead back in the nineties? The
soldiers being murdered?’
‘I’m
quite sure the papers invented most of it. I do wonder if Stoker got hold of
the story for his book. Not the vampire one; the Seven Stars I mean.’
‘A
curse, wasn’t it? Mummies and a dreadful blood vengeance business? Look, I can
see you’re reluctant, but in an hour it’ll be between you, me and Davy Jones.’
‘I
suppose no harm can come of speaking about it now. I was looking into that
business, the murders, for the uncle of a friend of mine. We were really just
children then. Hardly the foggiest notion of how to conduct an investigation.
Though, in our defence, I will say that we weren’t quite as unfailingly
clueless as the police.’
‘The
fellow in Hampstead who had the mummy – Hollingsworth? The papers said that
he’d murdered his own former comrades in order to keep the thing for himself.’
‘Hollingsworth
was a victim in the matter, for all that he brought it on himself. I don’t
think we can blame him. A lot of otherwise sane men were driven close to
something like madness. The real tragedy is that the fire claimed the life of
his young son. He just didn’t care what they said about him after that, you
see.’
‘How
did the fire start?’
‘I
wasn’t there for that part. What happened, the previous night the true murderer
had called on Hollingsworth while I and my friends were with him. We knew him
to have got away with dreadful crimes. He flaunted it in our faces. There was
tension. Some of us entertained the possibility of physical violence…’
‘But?’
‘But
nothing came of it. Hollingsworth spoke to the man and was persuaded to part
with the mummy.’
‘Must
have been a forceful sort of person, eh? Some people can do that. Don’t need
threats or strength of arms. Their personality alone is enough to dominate
others.’
‘That
may be true. This man I speak of was a dirty dog without a scrap of principle.
He had indeed resorted to violence and intimidation to achieve his ends. And
his persuasive powers, far from being the honest result of strong character,
were mesmeric and underhand. After he left, we determined to follow him.’
‘You
and your friends, you mean?’
‘Benjamin
Herzog was a good cross-country runner, a crack shot, and had picked up some
sharp tracking skills from an uncle in the Pinkertons. He set off after the
villain’s carriage on foot while I and my servant Edwards saddled a couple of
horses and followed on a few minutes later.’
‘And
your quarry didn’t notice you all filing along behind him?’
‘It
was ten o’clock at night, with a thick fog, and they were electrifying the street
lights that autumn so most of the old gas-lamps were out. Just as well, as
Benjy had possibly had a couple of brandies earlier. He wasn’t on best form
that night, put it that way. He told me that a couple of times he nearly ran
into the carriage when it halted in the fog. I’d seen Benjy on longer runs than
that without getting winded too.’
‘Out
of breath, was he? Perhaps that wasn’t the brandy.’
‘Perhaps
it wasn’t; we were all very jumpy that night. Anyway, we followed the carriage
down to Camden Town where it turned off towards Islington. The roads became
narrower and in poor repair. On a shabby terraced street near the Caledonian
Road, the carriage dropped off two men and Benjy heard the words, “in the
morning”.
‘The
carriage went on. We assumed it was still carrying our man, and after a short
time its progress in the direction of central London seemed to confirm that, so
we returned to the terraced house. You see, we had long ago identified our
suspect as having one very tall henchman, whom we called Mr Choker – he did the
actual killing – and two other accomplices who he’d told the police were his
cousins. The cousins were supposedly touring the country, and thus unavailable
for interview by the police, but now we’d tracked them down. Or so we thought.’
‘You
alerted the police as to their whereabouts?’
‘That
was Edwards’ suggestion. I pooh-poohed it. On reflection it would have just got
a lot of bobbies killed. Not that I knew that then, of course. I simply wanted
– ’
‘Vindication?’
‘Evidence.
Plain facts. But there were no plain facts – not of a kind we could ever
present in a court of law. I had no
inkling of that as I picked the lock. I suppose I should describe the house,
shouldn’t I? Picture a seedy street north of King’s Cross. Steps lead up to darkened
porches. These are dingy terraced houses with peeling paintwork, each occupied
by several families or groups of day labourers, two or more people to a single
uncarpeted room. The lock on my school tuck shop was far more robust.
‘Once
inside, we heard voices from the lower ground floor. Benjy and I crept down the
stairs – Edwards was outside watching the horses. I think now that I was as
silent as a cat, but Benjy trod on a loose board. Maybe it was the other way
round; this was nearly a quarter of a century ago. Luckily Benjy was always a
quick thinker. He immediately coughed and began mumbling drunkenly as he
launched himself loudly up the other flight to the first floor. I waited, then
slipped down the rest of the way to the basement door. From inside came two
voices speaking in a language I didn’t know. I try to remember it today,
applying my knowledge now. Could it have been Arabic? Quite possibly it was a
far older tongue. But time and the mind play tricks, as you know. Nothing I am
telling you now is certifiably as it happened.’
‘I
understand. But you don’t have to build a case, do you? I mean, this isn’t for
a court of law. It’s just between the two of us.’
‘So
it is. Certainly I wouldn’t trouble with niceties like evidence now. Back then
– I really don’t know. Perhaps we hoped for documents that would prove a link
between our suspect and these men. Not a confession, though. We already knew
them to be fanatics who would stop at nothing. In spite of that I hadn’t
brought a gun. In those days I still believed that to take up the sword meant
to die by the sword. That and justice.’
‘Justice,
eh? “Ruat caelum” and all that.’
‘I
did say that we were tender in years and had not yet put away such childish
things. I beckoned Edwards over and found that he had brought along a shotgun.
He was Scandinavian, you know. Or possibly Austrian. A big man, though not as
big as Choker. We waited till the pubs turned out, and when there were a few
people roaming loudly in the street we descended to the lower ground floor
room. There was silence inside. No light under the door. I picked the lock.
‘I
don’t know if I made too much noise, or whether it was Benjy again, but both
men inside were instantly awake. We had surprised them in their beds – well,
their mats on the floor. Where you or I might keep a glass of water or a book
to read, they had loaded revolvers. Pointed at us.
‘Edwards
flung aside his shotgun and ran in. Benjy’s pistol appeared as though by a
conjurer’s sleight-of-hand. I, noticing that the second man had fumbled his
gun, ran over and aimed a wild punch. It was pretty dark, and I got a solid hit
on empty air.
‘Edwards
grappled his man, who fired several shots into the wall. Benjy couldn’t get a
clear shot. Then the man I was standing over began to change. A veritable
metamorphosis, I mean. His bald head separated into hard sliding plates. Spines
like those of a stag beetle sprouted on his arms. His body reconfigured as he
grew in stature, developing armoured growths like pauldrons. His face – well, I
was glad of the poor light.
‘I
think now it was a kind of accelerated pupation. Cell division can occur very
rapidly if the energy is available. It took the passage of some years to be
able to reflect on the experience with such calm detachment. At the time we simply
lost our heads. Fright made us like puppets steered by an outside force. Benjy
fled, yet I would have staked my life on him having the courage of Horatio. If
I’d had my swordstick, perhaps I’d have skewered the creature as it lay there
howling and changing. Or perhaps even then I didn’t think myself a killer.
Edwards struggled with his man, but a bullet in the arm made him think better
of staying. As he and I ran after Benjy, I snatched up the shotgun. At the top
of the stairs, Benjy was in such a state that he no longer knew how to open the
door. I turned, felt Edwards go by rather than saw him, then discharged both
barrels into the stairwell. It did nothing to the creature. I’m not sure if I
hit, but in any case its coleopteran armour looked impervious to firearms.
‘We
got into the street – I think Edwards simply took the door clean off its
hinges. But panic made us run the wrong way, away from the horses. The creature
could see in the fog, and it was faster. Best if I draw a veil – ’
‘But
what happened? How did you escape unscathed?’
‘Unscathed?
I wouldn’t say that. Not unscathed at all. You know The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin – ’
‘What?’
‘No,
of course you wouldn’t. Well, that’s the whisky. Now the black waters rise to
embrace us. Drowning, they say, is like going to sleep. See the lifeboats
there? Little sparks in the darkness. It could be a painting of human hope,
eh?’
‘I
might have got aboard one of those lifeboats, you know.’
‘Uh-huh.
Me too.’
‘Only
I was delayed on other business.’
‘As
was I. We both had our appointment in Samarra, eh?’
‘Let’s
talk of that in a moment. You were going to tell me about the fire.’
‘I
wasn’t there for the fire. It was set, I understand, by Ailean Gris. Ironically
he was the most perspicacious about our suspect. He unfairly got locked in jail
over a weekend for taking direct action against the villain. His only mistake
was that the action in question was not nearly bold enough.’
‘Why
did he start a fire, though?’
‘Some
vague sense. You could call it intuition. He and Tennyson Thurgood had been
waiting all night for news from us. When no telegram arrived by breakfast they
became agitated. Ailean presumably tried to destroy the mummy, unaware that no
weapon in that house could so much as put a scratch on the adamantine crystal
of its coffin.’
‘What
I don’t understand, the one thing I could never account for… How are you here?
Alive. When – ’
‘When
you had Choker kill us?’
‘Ah.
Well then, plain speaking now. In your final minutes.’
‘Perhaps
I died that night, and all the years since then are a long moment’s dreaming.
An Owl Creek Bridge experience. But you won’t be familiar with Ambrose Bierce
either, Dr Ghul.’
‘Very
fanciful. You are still a dreamer, Dr Dakkar Singh.’
‘Oh
no, Ghul. That you did kill. My ideals now are as concrete as a million-ton
iceberg. You’re welcome, incidentally. All it took was a little misinformation
to a radio operator, and the captain fails to make a small course correction
that would have carried us a hundred miles south of here.’
‘You
didn’t – You wouldn’t doom a thousand innocents just to get me.’
‘The
boy I was then would not have done. That’s what you killed. Decency flowers in
the hearts of the young, but the old and rich and greedy snuff it out because
they cannot bear to think that dreams are better than the meagre ration of
reality they allow themselves. The future must not be shaped by those who
remember a long past, but by those for whom the world is eternally remade fresh
and clean in a new dawn. But I digress – an old weakness of mine. You want to
know about that night.
‘As
we ran from that house, with the Choker creature on our heels, in all that
blind red panic one thing I do remember clearly. Benjy was just ahead of me and
I wanted to call out to him and say: Benjy, you were right. For he had thought
of killing you, Ghul, right there in Hollingsworth’s study. I saw it in his
eyes. You saw it too. But I laid my hand on his shoulder and the moment was
gone.’
‘You
saved your friend from becoming like me, then. A murderer, as you would say.’
‘Murder?
Hardly. He would merely have been putting you down like the vermin you are. He
had realized something that I knew too, briefly, when I waited on that rooftop
with my rifle for Choker. But I had forgotten it, and Benjy had not.’
‘And
that was?’
‘That
it was total war. I still imagined the world to be orderly and fair, protected
by laws. I had a code that would not let me stoop to your level. And so we
entered that basement room with lockpicks rather than a shotgun blast. It’s a
mistake I have never made since that night. Now I never give the guilty a
chance to surrender. Nor even the innocent, sometimes, as you can see by those
lifeboats.’
‘A
pretty tale. But you understand nothing after all if you think this ploy is
even a minor inconvenience. See this body. It was already old and weak when I
took it, and I tire of the pretence of being an Englishman. I look out there
and I see a thousand mortal hosts waiting for me to take my pick. You may go
down into the dark, but I will not.’
‘That
was why you wanted the mummy, wasn’t it? For a long time I couldn’t figure that
out. I had simply assumed you belonged to some ridiculous magical cult, but
then my own researches uncovered certain facts about the epiphysis cerebri. The pineal gland. That was it, wasn’t it? You
told us some fable about the mummy. In life I think he possessed an ability I
would now term psionic – the ability to impress his thought patterns upon
another’s brain, erasing their identity and imposing his own. And I think it
was that gland you sought. By transplanting it into your own cranium, you
acquired the power. A kind of immortality, I suppose, if you care only for the
mind and not for the self inherent in the body.’
‘Mere
transplantation! Can you really have supposed anything so crude as that? I
thought you were an eminent biologist, Doctor. Rather I extracted certain
proteins from the mummy’s pineal gland which, injected into my brain, promoted
the development of those capabilities.’
‘Thank
you, Doctor. I merely wanted confirmation that it was indeed a function of the
brain. The blended whisky – I would have preferred an Islay – that was so the
harsh taste would disguise the neuroinhibitory agent you’ve imbibed.’
‘You’re
bluffing.’
‘Reach
out. See if you can touch any of those minds you thought were yours for the
taking. You can’t. You are locked in that body, Ghul, and that body is for the
sea bed. That’s two thousand fathoms – as secure a prison as any crystalline
sarcophagus.’
‘You’ll
die too.’
‘I
would happily do so, if necessary, in order to rid the world of you.’
‘Bah,
Singh, you are still an idealist.’
‘I
intend to leave the world better than I found it. I suppose that might count as
idealism. And leave it I will, when the time comes, not prolong my life
indefinitely as you would. It’s time to restore the world as it should be, not
this travesty forced upon it by immortal golems who think they remember once
being men.’
‘But
we could both live. Forever. What if you could have a hundred lifetimes? What
could you not achieve? Any one of those huddled masses in the lifeboats.
Anybody at all. Think of it – whenever you feel the beat of death’s wing, you
could reach out, find a new vessel, drop into the space they fill in the
world.’
‘Here
is my view of immortality: volvox must die as Leeuwenhoek saw it die because it
had children and is no longer needed.’
‘What?
I don’t understand. You’re mad.’
‘You
called me an idealist. Perhaps you forgot, in the lazy luxury of thinking
yourself immortal, that there is no more ruthless adversary than an idealist
with only one life to lose. But in fact I have not chosen to waste my death
entrapping you. As this ship carries you down into oblivion, I will already be
on my way from here. There are others like you that I have to deal with, you
see. That’s the road you set me on all those years ago, Ghul. Think of me as
the scion of your depravity, a Cronus come to do the inevitable deed.’
‘How?
How can you hope to escape? Already the water is lapping over the deck!’
‘I
dabbled at poetry, in the days before you destroyed my innocence. And as a poet
I had a soubriquet, which I have kept though now it serves me as nom de guerre. You know me as Dakkar
Singh, but these days I go more usually by that other name. Nemo.’
Friday 16 February 2018
"The Temple of the Doomed Prince" (scenario)
I vividly remember the evening I ran this scenario. It
was in 1982 or ’83. Mike Polling and Mark Smith had been in my Tekumel campaign
at Oxford, and on moving to London I started a new game that
included their school friend Jamie Thomson as well as Oliver Johnson, who also role-played
with me and Mike at college but only in my Medra campaign.
I can even tell you where we played. It was Yve
Newnham’s flat in Edgeley Road, Clapham, and I can remember how Mark read out
the entries from the temporal codex and then concluded grimly, “A brave man…”
Nomikaru, who appeared in the published scenario as an
NPC, was Jamie’s character before he began playing the much more esteemed and
exalted Baron Jadhak hiVriddi. I don’t recall what system we used. This was
years before Tirikelu with its
tactical choices of full- and half-attacks. I think we must have used was a
modified form of Mortal Combat that I’d
adapted based on what Prof Barker revealed in correspondence about the
(then) forthcoming Swords and Glory rules. We
used to use hit location back then, which made the conversion to RuneQuest less arduous than it might
have been.
The RQ and AD&D stats included in the White Dwarf version of the scenario were a sop to ensure I could get away with including Empire of the Petal Throne stats too – even though Games Workshop
had no interest in EPT, and neither did TSR by then. Because I had the Rune
Rites column and an instalment of Castle of Lost Souls running in that issue of White Dwarf (#54, June 1984), this
scenario went out under the byline “Phil Holmes”.
The Jalush was inspired by Steve Ditko, by the way, as
so many of my ideas have been. On Dr Strange’s first foray into the world of
Nightmare he was threatened by the spinybeast, and obviously that left a
powerful impression on my young mind because fifteen years later this thing
leapt out of the unconscious. It gave the players quite a scare, if for no
other reason than that a monster you couldn’t find in the rulebook might be
capable of anything.
THE TEMPLE OF THE DOOMED PRINCE
by Phil Holmes
An
adventure for five to eight Dungeons and Dragons or EPT characters of 4th-6th level or RuneQuest
characters of 45%-65% weapon skills. Tirikelu characters should have main skills around 8-10th level.
Referee’s
introduction
This adventure is based on Professor M A R Barker’s
fantasy world of Tekumel described in Empire of the Petal Throne. For AD&D
or RuneQuest just assume that the adventure is located in some distant part of
your campaign world. Where EPT monsters are used I have reinterpreted these for
AD&D and RQ use. I apologize in advance for having to reduce the complexity
of Tsolyani religion and moral philosophy to D&D’s simplistic alignment
system.
The worship
of Lord Ksarul
Ksarul, Ancient Lord of Secrets, Doomed Prince of the
Blue Room, Master of Magic and Grammarie, is the god of those who seek knowledge
for the sake of power. Long ago, when gods still walked among men, Lord Ksarul
gathered his forces and brought these against the other gods in a war for
supremacy of the Universe. He was aided by his monstrous servant, the minor
deity Gruganu, the Black Sword of Doom. Together these two came close to attaining
the ultimate victory they sought, but at last the other gods joined together
and defeated Lord Ksarul at the fabled Battle of Dormoron Plain. They stripped
him of much of his power and then imprisoned him in a place between the planes
of existence – a chamber of flickering azure light where Ksarul is sunk in deep
stasis-sleep. Even the dreaming mind of Ksarul is still powerful, however, and
thus he guides the loyal Gruganu (who escaped his master’s fate) in an effort
to find the Ten Keys of the Blue Room which will free him to wreak vengeance on
all the gods.
The priesthood of Lord Ksarul (who wear smiling masks
of silver, black velvet robes and a mortarboard-shaped head-dress) is very
highly organized and secretive. But despite their theoretically ‘evil’ aims,
many of the priests are simply dedicated men of learning, respected scholars
and physicians. In D&D terms most of the Doomed Prince’s followers are thus
Lawful Neutral in alignment - although there is a small inner clique of
zealots, the Ndalu Society, who devote their lives to the search for the Ten
Keys and whose methods and alignment are definitely Evil. [Ugh – how it pains me even after all these years to have to leave
those lines in! – DM]
The
Goddess of the Pale Bone
This should be revealed at the appropriate time only
to clerics, Lhankor Mhy Initiates or EPT characters with the scholar skill. The
Goddess of the Pale Bone is one of the Pariah Gods, an utterly inimical and
Chaotic deity whose worship is almost universally proscribed. Her few followers
are the sort of psychotic outcasts who give Chaotic Evil a bad name; human
sacrifice is the least appalling of their activities.
PLAYERS’
INTRODUCTION
By chance one of you discovered some information
concerning a temple to Ksarul located in the Do Chaka Protectorate, a region
far to the west. The records you have looked at show that the temple was
founded in the year 2157. (The year is now 2361). Another brief reference,
dated 2270, states that the temple was abandoned during the reign of the
Emperor Heshtuatl (sometime between 2168 and 2234) and that the priests’ exodus
was apparently so hurried that most of the temple relics and treasures had to
be left behind. You set out at once.
Your journey west has brought you over a thousand
miles – much of this along the Sakbé roads, huge raised causeways twenty feet
or more in height and up to fifty feet across. You left the Sakbé road three or
four days ago and travelled north along the River of Red Agates towards the
mountain range known as the Atkolel Heights. Through a pass you have come to
the village of Mandir, nestled at the foot of impressive cliffs. Somewhere
beyond – only a few miles away now – lies your goal
REFEREE’S
NOTES
The
Village of Mandir
The sun is low over the western hills as the party
approach Mandir. In the north, storm clouds gather. The village consists of
about thirty houses - low wooden buildings with many-sided totemic pillars at
each corner supporting roofs of black tile.
The party are greeted formally by Tulkesh hi-Nraga (surnames carry the ‘hi-’ prefix.) Tulkesh, a
slightly-built man about forty years old, is village headman and senior member
of the Clan of the Advancing Shadow, a foresters clan which traditionally reveres
Lord Ksarul, to which more than three-quarters of the villagers belong. He is
quite affable towards strangers – particularly if the party includes Ksarul
worshippers – and will invite them to dine with him and stay for a few days. No
payment is expected unless the party presume too much on the villagers’
hospitality.
Also at dinner is a strange young man called Nomikaru hi-Teteli, the local priest of
Lord Ksarul. As soon as the meal has begun he starts to chew hnequ weed (a narcotic) and becomes by
turns either vague or abstractly argumentative. He is in fact a disgraced
member of the Ndalu Society, who chafes at his demotion to lowly village
priest.
Tulkesh will freely answer any questions. Mandir was
settled by pioneers from the east two hundred years ago. The temple that the
players are interested in was founded at about the same time, but it appears to
have become deserted only a half-century later. Tulkesh is not sure of the
details – just that the priests abandoned the place after a number of unexplained
events. One story he has heard is that the priests were later attacked and
killed by outlaws as they made their way back to the Sakbé road, so a full
report was never made. From time to time since then there have been mysterious
disappearances, and nowadays people try to give the temple a wide berth.
Nomikaru adds that there are probably Hra and Vorodla
(see below) guarding the temple compound, and will relish describing these
creatures to the ignorant. The party may choose to look around the village
before heading for the temple. If so, they will certainly encounter Major Chengath hi-Lantau, a retired army
officer who carves and lacquers decorative wooden screens. He will carve a
screen to order for 200 kaitars / 100gps / 200 lunars.
Getting
There
The trail from Mandir into the hills is steep and
overgrown, and now quite arduous after a recent storm. There is a steady, grey
drizzle and the skies threaten further storms, for this is Shapru, the month of
rains.
The whole trek takes about seven hours for a
moderately-burdened party. This assumes ten minutes’ rest each hour. The last
part of the journey involves trudging up a particularly steep and muddy path,
and characters who don’t take a ten minute break at the top will fight at -1
for the next hour owing to fatigue.
Temple background
(for the referee only)
Although founded ostensibly as a centre of worship for
the people of Mandir, its major value to the priesthood of Lord Ksarul must
have been as a spiritual retreat; an isolated monastery where priests could
conduct their studies and research without disturbance from the factional
disputes common within city temples. A number of Hra and Vorodla were provided
by the funders of the temple, the Society of Blue Light, a faction devoted to
pure scholasticism and opposed to the Ndalu Society.
Unbeknownst to the temple founders, the caverns below
the shrine were used millennia ago by devotees of the Goddess of the Pale Bone.
In fact this was the root cause of the troubles at the temple, as will become clear.
The
abandoned temple
As the party approach, the temple’s ruined state
becomes clear. Some time in the past the gatehouse was shattered by lightning,
charred, and then rotted by the elements. The stone wall around the temple
compound has collapsed at several points. The paving stones within are cracked
and subsided, the buildings are tangled with vines and in disrepair.
Dominating the temple is the twenty-foot pyramid on
which stands the shrine dedicated to Lord Ksarul. Just as the party pass through
the ruined gate, dark, winged shapes rise up from here and the colonnade below,
soaring aloft and then swooping down to attack.
These are Vorodla, guardians of the temple. There are
seven of them:
VORODLA
RQ:
5-point armour; HP10, 11, 12, 13, 13, 14, 15; Move: 6/12; POW: 13; Sword
(1d8+1+1d4 and exposure to Soul Waste), SR7, 45%.
AD&D:
AC5; HD4; HP12, 18, 21, 10, 15, 22, 23; Move: 6”/24”; 1 attack for 1-8 +20%
chance of energy drain.
EPT:
AC5; HD4; HP1O, 14, 16, 9, 12, 18, 19; 20% chance of level drain.
Tirikelu: Melee 19, 1D10+3, hit points 11 [-/-/-], armour 3/2, Evade 8, Mag Res 13.
Tirikelu: Melee 19, 1D10+3, hit points 11 [-/-/-], armour 3/2, Evade 8, Mag Res 13.
Notes:
Vorodla are winged undead; dead warriors restructured and reanimated by the
arcane sorcery of the priests of Lord Ksarul. They fight fanatically until cut
apart, and must then be burnt or they will regenerate and rise up within two
turns. By night, or in pitch darkness, Vorodla fight at +2 (RQ: +10%). There is
a 20% chance that a hit by one of these creatures will lower the victim by one
experience level (RQ: exposure to Soul Waste. Tirikelu: a wounded character makes a Psychic Ability check at +4; failed roll costs 1 from Psychic Reservoir and requires another check (this time at +2) after one hour; each failure reduces Psychic Reservoir by 1 and necessitates another hourly check, with the modifier diminishing by 2 each time; stops when the character either succeeds in one of the checks or has had Psychic Reservoir reduced to 0). AD&D: Vorodla are turned as
wights by priests of Ksarul and as ghasts by other clerics. (On a ‘D’ result, a
priest of Ksarul has a 35% chance of bringing the creature into permanent, if
grudging, service.) They are Neutral (evil).
Because it is heavily overcast they attack at + 1 (RQ:
+5%) even during the day, unless one of the characters uses weather control or the like to dispel
the clouds.
The
Library
The roof has fallen in at the western end - many of
the books are rotten and worm-eaten, but three sealed Chlen-hide (bronze)
chests have preserved the most important books in excellent condi–tion. There
is also a scroll of necromancy and the grey hand (AD&D: hold monster and
disintegrate; RQ: scroll giving 10% increase in Knowledge skills; Tirikelu: Command Undead and Speak With The Dead spells inscribed by a scholar with +8 in the Necromagy phylum) written in
the Tongue of the Priests of Ksarul. The real find, though, is the temporal
codex of the temple - the daily record of events. The entries of interest deal
with the months Hasanpor and Shapru of the year 2215:
13th
HASANPOR, 2215
In the
midst of preparations for the coming ceremony, two priests who had climbed down
to the forest to collect sauqun
flowers for the festivities went missing. One crawled back into the temple
compound in the early hours of this morning, bloodied and tattered. His tongue
had been ripped from his head. Ministrations proved ineffective and he died without
providing an account of what had befallen.
15th
HASANPOR, 2215
The
Eventuation of Holy Pavar was commemorated. The celebration was more muted than
in previous years owing to the absence of four of the six slaves prepared for
streblosis. These four must have escaped just a few hours before dawn, but
their means of egress from the temple precincts is by no means apparent. None
of the other slaves seems to have witnessed the escape - a story which they
maintain even under diligent torture. It remains a mystery.
27th
HASANPOR, 2215
Archdeacon
Ishankoi hi-Reshlan has disappeared – spirited away, so to speak, in the middle
of the night. Magical means have been employed in an effort to contact him, to
no avail. His Holiness the Archimandrite has sent word via Mandir to the Palace
of the Realm in Khirgar. Ishankoi has always seemed a stable fellow, and it is
difficult to believe him capable of such dereliction of duty as to go missing
only hours before the Returning of the Mantle of Blue.
29th
HASANPOR, 2215
Those of
us who thought ill of Ishankoi have had cause to revise our judgement since his
mutilated form was found in the Lower Shrine shortly after lunch. Who can have
performed this horrible deed? Recalling the fate of Shrakan and Elvaru earlier
this month, one is forced to the conclusion that some monstrous being has come
up from the forests. In spite of the heavy rainfall, Yugao hi-Ludum insisted on
taking another message to the runner in Mandir.
3rd
SHAPRU, 2215
The heavy
storms of the last few days continue unabated. Tekketal hi–Kuroda has gone
missing. One can only hope he has not suffered the fate of Ishankoi. Yugao
hi-Ludum suggested at dinner that these strange events result from an incursion
of Shunned Ones from the forest, and is himself preparing a note to this effect
to send to the Omnipotent Azure Legion in Khirgar – though some of us believe
it would be more seemly to first inform the Temple at Mrelu.
6th
SHAPRU, 2215
Tekketal’s
corpse has been located in the Hra pit, mutilated if anything even more
gruesomely than Ishankoi. To some extent this was due to several of the Hra
having mistaken his body for an exotic item of their diet. Further, two
acolytes have gone missing.
8th
SHAPRU, 2215
Goduku
hi-Raitlan has now vanished, along with his personal servant. On the orders of
His Holiness, Yugao hi-Ludum used mediumship to communicate our troubles to the
Temple at Mrelu. We are assured that investigators have been despatched.
9th
SHAPRU, 2215
Like one
who is infected with the eggs of the nkek-worm,
we have suffered from a traitor within! Yugao hi–Ludum has been uncovered as
the source of our woe! Along with two young acolytes he has been worshipping at
an ancient shrine to the terrible Goddess of the Pale Bone in the caverns below
our temple. After a few minutes of careful questioning he lapsed into a ghastly
calm which he retained even when flayed alive. After this his heart was cut out
and the corpse flung into the catacombs where he had his shrine. The acolytes
were similarly treated, but spoke freely of a baleful influence which called
them to the caverns. They died more insane than a Hli’ir. Our troubles are at
least now at an end.
10th
SHAPRU, 2215
After the
Visitation of the Dormant Lord, His Holiness the Archimandrite was found to be
missing. A thorough search of the catacombs uncovered his butchered form,
treated not unlike that of Yugao. No magic could resurrect him. Moreover, there
was no sign of the carrion deposited in the catacombs only yesterday.
11th
SHAPRU, 2215
Two more
were found dead, and those who remained have been forced to evacuate the
temple. Apart from a few slaves only! remain, for l am too infirm to travel
far. land the slaves keep to the library now. I have released the Hra and even
the Vorodla in the temple precincts, with instructions to attack even those
robed as priests of our Supreme Lord. The Vorodla accommodate themselves to
such orders with relish, of course, but the Hra seemed dully reluctant. It is
tempting to think of this as a sort of loyalty, but I know that the spark of
true reason has jaded from their dead minds and it is only the illusion of
thought that I perceive in them. The rain is a heavy curtain in the courtyard.
Once or twice I thought I glimpsed a figure out there.
12th
SHAPRU, 2215
There is
food for only two more days, but I do not think it will come to that. I have
had an idea for a treatise on the ethology of the Hra. A pity I will never get
the chance to write it.
There are no further entries.
The Shrine
The roof of the shrine is of a sturdy, black-lacquered
wood which has suffered little from time and the elements. There are steps up
the south side of the pyramid. The doors are locked.
1. The Outer Shrine. There is an altar stone of blue
marble against the north wall, under a silver crescent moon and azure beetle -
one of the insignia of Lord Ksarul.
2. Side-chapel. Behind a locked bronze grille is a
small shrine to Ey’un, Knower of Skills, the aspect of Lord Ksarul to whom this
temple was particularly dedicated. There is a small steel (AD&D: platinum;
RQ: iron) statue of the skeletal Ey’un. This is worth up to 150,000 kaitars /
75,000gps / 150,000 lunars, although it would be considered an act of terrible
sacrilege if anyone less than a Cardinal of the priesthood of Lord Ksarul were
to remove it from the shrine. AD&D players should not be given its full XP
value, if it is taken. (It should be worth about 3,000XP).
3. Steps lead down within the pyramid.
4. A landing. The steps continue down and there is an
archway to the east, from the chamber beyond which issue forth four Hra:
HRA
RQ:
6-point armour; HP20, 21, 22, 23; Move: 8; POW: 14; Sword (1d10+1+2d6), SR7,
75%; will regenerate unless slain by magic; can detect life at no POW cost.
AD&D:
AC4; HD7; HP31,28,28,24; Move: 12”; 1 Attack for 4-11.
EPT: AC4; HD7; HP24, 22, 22, 20.
Tirikelu: Melee 22, 1D10+4, hit points 30 [-/-/-], armour 6/2, Evade 5, Mag Res 18.
Tirikelu: Melee 22, 1D10+4, hit points 30 [-/-/-], armour 6/2, Evade 5, Mag Res 18.
Notes:
These huge (7-foot) undead warriors are sometimes used by the priests of Ksarul as
temple guards – but only in the lower catacombs, as they cannot stand the light
of day. They are turned as spectres except by priests of Ksarul, who turn them
as wights and gain permanent control of the Hra on a ‘D’ result. (Tirikelu: a priest of Ksarul can stop a Hra from attacking by making a -5 Theologian check) Even if
completely hacked apart in melee, a Hra will reanimate after two turns (Tirikelu: one hour) and
pursue its opponents; it has the tracking abilities of a ranger (RQ: detect life; Tirikelu: 15th level Hunter). In appearance Hra are
gaunt and grey, seeming much like a wight. After killing their foes they drain
them of all blood and bodily fluids, leaving only a shrivelled husk. If
dispelled by a cleric or slain by a paladin with a Holy Sword, the Hra is
completely and permanently destroyed.
5. The Lower Shrine. A chamber of black stone,
intended for the more sacred and secret rituals. There is a crescent moon
symbol inlaid in polished quartz shards into the floor.
6. The stairs end. A locked bronze grille bars the
way.
7. Antechamber to the Inner Shrine. Each of the double
doors to the east bears the Bound Claw emblem on panels of beaten silver.
8. The Inner Shrine. An effigy of Lord Ksarul, carved
of black wood and masked with silver, lies on a couch studded with blue mosaic.
He holds a silver staff topped with a large sapphire cut to resemble a beetle.
The whole room is faced with blue marble.
The mask is worth about 200 kaitars / 100gps / 200
lunars; the staff, 150,000 kaitars / 75,000gps / 150,000 lunars. The same
applies as with the statuette of Ey’un in the side-chapel above.
A search of this room will reveal lines of faint
scratches on the floor running between the couch and the east wall. If the
couch is lifted up slightly it can be slid aside to reveal a pit. This requires
a combined strength of 150 (AD&D/RQ: 28).
The
Caverns below the Pyramid
These caverns were a centre of worship for the sect of
the Goddess of the Pale Bone centuries before the eastern pioneers colonized
the area and built their temple to Lord Ksarul. The only worshipper here now is
Yugao hi-Ludum, the treacherous
priest of Ksarul mentioned in the extracts from the temporal codex.
YUGAO
HI-LUDUM
AD&D:
9th level cleric; Str: 16; Int: 11; Wis: 10; Con: 15;
Dex: 11; Cha: 13; AC6; HP50.
Equipment:
Shield +3*, Lucern hammer +1*, Wand of Fear (2ch)
Spells: 1st
- Curse, command, cause light wounds,
sanctuary.
2nd - Hold
person, know alignment, spiritual hammer (x2).
3rd - Cause
blindness, cause disease, dispel magic.
4th - Cause
serious wounds, poison.
5th - Commune.
EPT:
9th level priest; Str: 89; Int: 55; Con: 81; Pow: 60;
Dex: 52; Com: 1; AC5; HP38; (+2 hit, +2 damage).
Equipment:
Shield +3*, Warhammer +1*, Excellent Ruby Eye (6ch), Eye of Allseeing Wonder
(31ch).
Spells:
Basic MU skills to Nature Control.
I - Fear,
plague, shadows.
II - Cold,
creatures, the hands of Kra the mighty.
Ill - Doomkill,
the silver halo of soul stealing.
(*These items are only magical when used by Yugao.)
RQ:
STR: 16; CON: 15; SIZ: 11; INT: 11; POW: 18; DEX: 11;
CHA: 13; HP16; Defence:5%.
Equipment: Medium shield, warhammer (iron); special
powered crystal which gives protection
3 at all times.
Spells: Befuddle,
demoralize, disruption, bludgeon 3, darkwall, invisibility, (repair, detect
life, silence, extinguish, mindspeech 3, dispel magic 2).
Rune Magic: Shattering,
blinding, shield 3, summon small shade.
Skills: Combat
skills 55%; stealth 55%; perception 80%.
Allied Spirit in bone talisman: INT: 11; POW 15.
Tirikelu:
Melee 16, 1d10+1 HP: 14 [3/5/8] Mag Res +27
19th level Ritual Sorcerer Spellpoints: 300
Ceraunics +7
Guarding +6
Malediction +9
Necromagy +7
Psychethesis +3
Vallation +6
Tirikelu:
Melee 16, 1d10+1 HP: 14 [3/5/8] Mag Res +27
19th level Ritual Sorcerer Spellpoints: 300
Ceraunics +7
Guarding +6
Malediction +9
Necromagy +7
Psychethesis +3
Vallation +6
Yugao’s life-force has been sustained all these years
by the power of the Goddess. He presents a grisly spectacle, still in the state
that his erstwhile comrades left him – flayed to the waist, his skin hangs like
a kilt leaving an upper torso of raw flesh and sinew, a skull-like mask of a face
with lidless, staring eyes. There is a gaping hole where the priests tore his
heart out. Most of his abilities now derive from his deity and so he should be
treated as a priest (AD&D: cleric) as indicated above. Outside the caverns
Yugao’s life would ebb away at the rate of one hit point a turn.
Besides Yugao the caverns hold another danger – the
Jalush, a creature which has guarded the Goddess’ fane for hundreds of years.
The Jalush may be a unique, demonic creature or it may be the last survivor of an
extinct species. It has six limbs, walking on the back four and using the
forelimbs for grasping and striking. It has an outer integument, smooth and
ivory-pale, with sharp clusters of spines at its joints. It stalks with the
slow, precise movements of a praying mantis and strikes with a scorpion’s
vicious speed; any NPC of 4th level (RQ: lay member) or less has a 15% chance
of fleeing in terror if suddenly confronted by it.
THE JALUSH
RQ:
HP28; Move 8; POW 20; Talons (1d8+3d6), SR4, 95%
Right hindleg (01) 10/9
Right foreleg (02-04) 10/9
Left hind leg (05) 10/9
Left foreleg (06-08) 10/9
Abdomen (09-10) 10/10
Chest (11-12) 10/10
Right arm (13-15) 10/9
Left arm (16-18) 10/9
Head (19-20) 10/10
AD&D:
AC0; HP54 (from 11 dice); Move: 12”; 1 attack for
4-24; Neutral Evil.
EPT:
AC1; HP44 (from 11 dice); Move: 12”; Other notes: see
below.
Tirikelu:
Melee 30, 1D10+6, hit points 44 [9/16/23], armour 6/3, Evade 9, Mag Res 24.
Tirikelu:
Melee 30, 1D10+6, hit points 44 [9/16/23], armour 6/3, Evade 9, Mag Res 24.
Any character hitting the Jalush has a chance of being
scratched by its poisonous spines: 15% if the character is AC5 or less,
increasing by 1% per AC point above 5. If the character fails his saving throw
he loses 5 EPT points of constitution (AD&D: 1 point) at once and a further 5
EPT points (AD&D: 1 point) every two minutes. This continues until the
character is dead or the poison neutralized. This can only be accomplished with
the Ineluctable Eye of Healing (AD&D: Keoghtom’s Ointment or full wish), and even this will not reverse
the damage! The poison also causes 1-3 hit points permanent damage whether or
not the character makes his saving throw! Nothing short of Divine Intervention
will heal its effects.
RQ: the character must make his luck roll to avoid the spines. The poison is potency 15, and if it overcomes the character’s CON, he should be considered to have contracted the terminal form of Creeping Chill disease. If the poison does not overcome the character’s CON, he merely loses 1 point permanently in the scratched location.
Tirikelu: Anyone striking the Jalush must roll their armour value or less on D6 to avoid being scratched by the spines. If scratched the character loses 1 point of Stamina every two minutes until they die or the poison is neutralised with Detoxify, Invigoration, or an Eye of Healing. Lost Stamina is not regained without a Restoration spell or a charge of the Eye of Regeneration.
RQ: the character must make his luck roll to avoid the spines. The poison is potency 15, and if it overcomes the character’s CON, he should be considered to have contracted the terminal form of Creeping Chill disease. If the poison does not overcome the character’s CON, he merely loses 1 point permanently in the scratched location.
Tirikelu: Anyone striking the Jalush must roll their armour value or less on D6 to avoid being scratched by the spines. If scratched the character loses 1 point of Stamina every two minutes until they die or the poison is neutralised with Detoxify, Invigoration, or an Eye of Healing. Lost Stamina is not regained without a Restoration spell or a charge of the Eye of Regeneration.
The Jalush has a saving throw of 6 against all spells,
technological devices, etc. It has keen senses and moves almost silently
despite its size: it surprises the party on a roll of 1-4 on d6 and is itself
surprised only on a roll of 1 on d10.
For any encounter in the caverns, roll d6:
1-3 the Jalush
4-5 Yugao
6 Yugao and the Jalush
Of course, Yugao is always somewhere in the caverns.
Have the party encounter him in the Goddess’ fane if they haven’t run into him
before then.
9. Low chamber. There is a drop of about twenty feet
from the floor of the Inner Shrine down a narrow shaft which opens into the
roof of this cave. The climb down is not difficult. A tunnel slopes gently
downwards from the south-west part of the chamber. The sound of running water
can be heard.
10. Underground stream. This dries up in summer, but
at the moment is in full flood. The stream is 4 feet at its deepest point.
11. Secret ‘door’. A boulder conceals the narrow
passage. It takes a combined strength of 85 (AD&D/RQ: 16) to roll it back.
12. The Goddess’ Fane. This cave is taller than most
of those here and seems to have been enlarged by excavation at some time in the
past. The walls have been stained white and covered with squarish crimson designs.
There is a rough altar, a natural table of rock, to the south-east. On this is
a rough, pitted idol of light grey stone, depicting a globular being with six
thick, curving legs and the face of a thin-lipped woman.
Anyone touching the idol will receive a fleeting but
horrible vision: a tall, unsmiling woman dissolves into the repulsive
apparition of a torn, rotting monstrosity – the woman’s head, shoulder and
right arm – flying through illimitable darkness towards the viewer. She wields
a great warhammer and seems to be shrieking in rage with her hair streaming as
if in a wind. However, there is no sound.
After a moment this vision fades; the idol will not
affect a character more than once. Removed from the fane, it loses this power.
13. Skulls and broken bones, the Jalush’s victims over
the years. There is a 4’ wide shaft in the floor of this chamber, set with many
razor-sharp chips.
If a character manages to get down the shaft he or she
will feel a sense of tremendous premonition, as though on the verge of a great
discovery. Rather than merely telling the player this, the referee should try
to create a mood, to heighten the sense of significance. Describe the dank air
at the bottom of the pit, the rasping of the character’s own breath in the
stillness, the rough wood of the torch in his hands, its heat on his face...
There at the bottom of the shaft lies a 6” sphere with a stylized eye-symbol
inscribed into it, seeming to watch the character. When the character picks it
up it feels almost icy cold, and remains so even if heated. Though it seems to
be made of grey marble, it cannot be cracked or damaged in any way.
This is one of the Ten Keys required to free Lord Ksarul,
presumably concealed here by one of the followers of the Goddess of the Pale
Bone. It cannot be detected as such by magical means, and only a great scholar
could identify it for certain. Nonetheless, anyone who sees it will have some
kind of ‘sixth sense’ as to its importance.
14. Cave entrance and waterfall. The stream emerges
from the cliff face. The forest is a hundred feet below. From here characters
can see Lake Ngusinaa stretching to the west and, mistily through the
continuing drizzle, the great mountain peaks in the north. There are a number
of ledges and handholds which make the cliff an easy climb.
After the
adventure
For those who like to loot, there’s about 900
kaitars/450gps/900 lunars in cash distributed around the temple – mostly in the
bursary strongbox in the administration building, but some also in the private
quarters.
If the players take the temple relics (the statuette
of Ey’un, etc) then they had better be careful about where they sell them if
they don’t want the priests of Ksarul as enemies. Even if they return the
relics to the priests, the latter may still view the removal of these items
from the temple as questionable or even sacrilegious. The optimum course would
be to leave the relics in place and bring back a Cardinal from the priesthood
to recover them. The priests of Ksarul will give about 25% of the relics’ value
as a reward to their discoverer.
If the party show the Key to Nomikaru hi-Teteli, back
in Mandir, he may try to get it from them so that he can take it himself to the
priesthood. This is not to say that Nomikaru will recognize it as being one of
the Ten Keys, merely that it is an interesting artefact which could help him to
ingratiate himself with his superiors.
Trivia: This scenario was slated to appear in a different version in Questworld, the supplement that Oliver Johnson and I worked on for Games Workshop. I drew the monastery and a cutaway of the shrine in 3D view, and sketched out some of the book spreads like the one below. The accompanying notes to the artist read:"The main spread [for this scenario] shows the protagonists' first view of the monastery after climbing up the mountain path. It is heavily overcast and there is a curtain of fine drizzle. Hovering in the sky over the ruined monastery are seven winged creatures ('corposants')."
So that's what would have been instead of Dragon Warriors, if things had turned out differently.
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