Random Encounters in the Tavalinen Sea

My current leafwrit is taking longer than expected, so to keep activity up, I offer a list of random encounters for adventuring on the Tavalinen Sea.

1d30

1. A camp of the Wagonfolk, offering trade and rest. But are they what they seem? Yeah, probably. But are they?
2. A stampede of Dire Bison
3. Tick bite. Roll for disease (1d6: 1. Blood fever, 2. Lycanthrope, 3. Head broken off in skin, 4. Allergy to meat, 5. Skin fever, 6. Just an itchy bump) 
4. Cultists around one of the mysterious monoliths. Doin' something evil, I bet. 
5. A mammoth skull from which an ancient voice echoes within the characters' minds, demanding vengeance.
6. 1d12 giraffes humming to themselves in the dusk of the plains. Does the air feel...thicker? Soon bats begin to sing, joining in the choir. 
7. A half-orc on a coming of age spirit quest. 
8. As 7, but the beast he is hunting has begun to hunt him. 
9. Quicksand! The horses and wagons are stuck, and in threat of spilling. 
10. Thick smoke on the horizon, leading back to a raided town. 
11. Is that some sort of thunder lizard?
12. A maiden is bathing in hot springs by moonlight. Wait...no, not a maiden. Her head is on backwards and there's blood on her fangs.
13. A group of riders is chasing down a man. The riders claim he is a criminal. The man claims they're bandits. 
14. Witches dancing in the full moon.
15. Wizards picnicking in the noonday sun. 
16. Bootleggers being chased into the depths by local law.
17. An active still being tended by corpses.
18. An active still being tended by goblins. The concoction is highly flammable. As is the surrounding grass, mind you.
19. The ruins of nameless forgotten city, nearly reclaimed entirely by nature. What treasures or strange idols sleep within?
20. Pajaki war party
21. A half burried box. What's in it? (d6: 1. Coin 2. Mold covered scrolls 3. Hope 4. Ancient plague 5&6. Nothing.)
22. A big god damn snake! 
23. Heat strokes pretending to be a hookah smoking, vest wearing ferret with bifocals.
24. Trip on a rock. Nice job.
25. A memorial stone with weathered inscription 
26. Large floating human head that vomits lighting from its can't filled mouth.
27. A nest of Thunderbirds
28. A man digging up dead bodies. "Mind your own business!"
29. A river. How are they to cross? 
30. A sign post which as been knocked over. The signs pointing to the next towns hang limp. Which way was which?

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Taverns and Inns built in a Dungeon

A 1d6 list of Taverns and Inns built into the Dungeon for Katabasis. Or where ever. 

The Bearded Wench: While not exactly "dwarf only" the physical structure of the place makes anyone taller than a dwarf uncomfortable, as they must bend or squat to fit. Rooms are tight and small, just the way Dwarves like them. The Inn also offers equipment repair services. The cook is famed for his Rat Bisque. 

McCarlin's Hearth: Built in the upper level of a dungeon, the interior has been completely remodeled from the former vile temple it once was. Stone floors have been refitted with hardwood floors and thick rugs. The sacrificial alter is now the bar. The blood pit has been reworked into a large, welcoming Hearth in the common room. Guests are waited on hand and foot by the fancified staff, and the rooms are plush and impeccable. This is, of course, reflected in the bill. 

Trouble is, the cult that ran the temple never actually left. They just became wait staff. Sacrifices of blood are made over the bar, guests are kidnapped from their rooms in the night via secret passage, and old chants are given to pacify old, insane gods. That delicious three course meal you just had? Was probably a person at one time. Although, no one knows this. Yet. 

The Accords: Largely a "self service" establishment. Numbered room keys are given with little more than a grunt from the keeper. The bartendress pours and serves drinks at the bar, refusing to carry a tray. "If you're too lazy to get up and get it yourself," the Keeper points out, "you're free to leave." Despite the gruff exterior, the staff are friendly enough, to the Usuals at least. While mage folk are the primary customers, magic is frowned upon (or rather sneered at) with the walls of the inn, and the layout and furnishings reflect this. Thirteen tables fill the tavern, as nine stools line the bar, each lined and decorated with iron. Doors, as well, are banded and knobbed with iron. Also of note is the room-sized, silver summon circle in the common room. No one is sure which accords the inn is named after.

The Malicious Mallard: A foul stank hole of a place, built in the old prison area. The walls are damp, cold, and grow strange mushrooms. Rented rooms are old cells, separated only by prison bars. The drinks are swill (but cheap!) and brewed in jugs that have never known cleaning. The staff are just as likely to cut your purse as the patrons are. Bar fights are often and, should they become lethal, the bodies are dumped in a "bottomless" pit under the trap door behind the bar before they rise again. Yes, that does mean there's a room full of wraiths somewhere. A secret switch in the backroom leads to the Thieves Guild lounge.

The Gilded Pentacle: Built in the ruins of a long abandoned vault, the inn also offers secure storage in addition to room and board. Also uniquely, the guards of the City tend to drink in the bar once off duty. The interior is as gilded as promised, including a bartop inlaid with gold. Some of the more illiterate of the City come to the Gilded Pentacle looking for a guild to apply for. 

The White Hart: Built in the remains of a long ago looted library, the inn caters to a more scholarly crowd. Large shelves that once held uncountable scrolls containing long forgotten lore, now hold codecs of various topics. Guests are encouraged to share their knowledge through impromptu lectures around the fire.  Most rations available are melted cheese based. For some reason. 

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The Huldufolk and Otherworld Creatures

Elves. Tolkien's overpowered, "we came all this way just to let Isildur walk off with the McGuffin, and did nothing about it" saps who refuse to share boats for the most childish of reasons. My displeasure of them is known. I also waggle a finger at Lord Dunsany's version. Albeit, less so.

But never mind that. Ignore it completely. These things don't suffer from the human condition, so why should they mock us with their human traits? Most settings describe them as "fey like." Why? Throw your hat over the wall. Go all in. Make these things the monsters the old stories make them out to be.

With that in mind, and a fifth of tequila in hand, I offer:

The Huldufolk

Some times written as "the Hulder", or "the Huldra" by illiterate peasants ("Huldra" already meaning "The Hulder"),  these creatures are, to put it simply, "not from here." Nearly one millennium ago, a night of strange absurdity poetically remembered as the Great Sigh, saw the entrance of the Hulder into the world as pockets of Reality were torn asunder, and hastily patched. Strangely, however, little damaged was invoked. Oh, sure, towns were halved as chunks of another world forced their way in, but actual damage was minimum. Instead of the smith being next door, just feet away, his shop was now half a mile or more, through a strange and sweet smelling forest of hardwood mushrooms.

Mortals have learned little about what brought chunks of the other reality, "Otherworld" to humans and "Huldreheimen" to the Hulder, into their own. For the most part, the Elders, who's strong magics held chunks of their world together, refuse to speak of the cause of the incident. What they will speak of is beholding Seas of Mathematics, Mountains of Inverse, Forests of Time and other impossibilities as their reality shifted, the skies burning with arcane sigils.

Physicalities

While Huldra look similar to humans, they are most assuredly not. Standing an average of five and a half feet, slightly pointed ears, two arms, two legs, skin ranging from alabaster to olive to ebony. Standard affair.  Were things begin to diverge, and what people usually first notice upon meeting an Hulder is their eyes: Gold, silver or red irises, a corresponding glow, and nictitating membranes. The membranes, when closed, reduces normal vision, but allows for the seeing of ghosts. It also has produced the strange rumor that the Hulder do not sleep. They do, just with the over lids open.

Also usually noticed is their tails, typically fox or cow in nature. Not usually noticed (unless you're one of them perverts and get in the skins with one) is their hollow back. Where a human would have a spine, they have a cavity, reminiscent of a hallow log. Not the best to look at. Kind of gross, actually. Don't try and put things in it.

The differences don't end at simply the physical level. Being of alien origin, their minds are built around a different architecture that the mortals and, in short, work differently. While their conclusions are sound, their logic is absurd. Two plus three equals five not because there are five units total, but because two concede favor in the presence of three to whisper rumors of six, yet we must remove one for our favored daughter who is yet to be. Somehow this works for them. What this means, however, is that enchantments have a hard time effecting the Hulder. Further, their Personality is awkward to mortals, and tends to act as a bane.

Their actual architecture (building wise) borders on and crosses the line of impossible, most notably for their lack of euclidean space. They're not fans of Minkowski space either, as time and space become distorted. Some structures can be built plainly on a hill, but only seen or entered after walking widdershins three times around said hill. Adventures can feast for a single night in their halls and (allegedly) awaken the next morning to find a century has passed in the normal world.

Life cycle 

Huldra are born the same way as any other creature: they're found as babies on the dew covered leaves, wrapped in gossamer blankets. Taken in by who ever finds them, the child is cared for without second thought, as Huldufolk communities aren't in the habit of want.

They soon come to adulthood in a mere one hundred and fifty years. Their days are spent in the pursuit of learning and pleasure. Hunting is often taken as a pass time, with younglings learning to stalk and track through the hardwood mushroom forests, and now, into the surrounding "normal" country side. Charcoal burning has become a popular manner of interest, as of late.

Where death was unknown in their previous realm, in this one they are stripped of their immortality, and are reduced to simply agelessness. In this reality, violence and disease have been introduced into their experience and wordstock. However, there's no place for them to go. Mortals move on, assumedly, to their various afterlives, while Huldra have none to speak of. Instead, their spirits linger as ghosts, while their bodies decay into mushrooms and trees. On the rarest of occassions, these ghosts can be glimpsed in the morning light. Mingling as gossamer in the fog of dawn.  

These ghosts linger for an indeterminate amount of time but, inevitably, grow tired. Drawn by what few memories they have left, they return to the woods, and find rest on the soft dewy leaves. From there, their fates are unknown.

Playing One of the Huldrufolk

While I'm against using Huldra as PCs at the moment, here are some notable stats in case you decide otherwise. You maverick. 

• Personality (c) 13+ - once per day - command Gnome (no save)
• Gnomes were/are servants 
• Dex 15+ - once per day dimension door
• Save vs Death when confronted with sadness
• Mortally wounded by sadness
• Ringing of iron bells stuns them
• Dex must be higher than Con, Personality (w)
• Huldra are lithe and agile, but frail and their minds are built different
• Personality bonus is treated as negative when interacting with non-Faerie creatures in a social setting. Their mannerisms and social cues are entirely different than what mortals are use to. 
• Glowing eyes make stealth impossible, but the second eyelids allow for ghost sight. 
• Resistant to enchantments, as your alien mind works on a different architecture. 

The Erdgeist

Also called "gnomes" by the unwashed masses who seem to insist on commenting about every damn thing I type, the Erdgeist are short creatures, roughly knee height. Their entire existence is one of servitude to the Huldra. Not slavery, mind you, but service. It is this service that gives them purpose in their lives. Think English butler with a loose grasp of reality or morals. As such, they are unable to resist a command issued by a Hulder, even through magic.

In their role of servants, the gnomes have the strange ability to speak any language, as long as they are in proximity to a native speaker. This includes both the language of the Hulder and the speech of animals. In times of solitude, they speak their own native tongue, which is largely composed of clicks and whistles. Further in their role, the Erdgeist are quick and quality learners, able to take up masterwork craft with but the basic of instruction.

The Erdgeist aren't so much born, as they crawl out of a hole and report for work. When their bodies have grown weak and frail, they turn in their uniforms and crawl back into a hole. Assuming they don't goblinize first, that is. Within the confineds of the new reality, a gnome must be cosntantly entertained, be it through riddles, craft or service; otherwise, they begin an agonizing and irreversible transmutation into a goblin. Sort of like the Isz from the Maxx.

More info on them here.

Goblins

Goblins, a name give by common folk, as it was in this reality in which they first appeared, are the corrupted form of a Erdgeist which has succumbed to boredom. Prone to random violence and acts of destruction, goblins lust for chaos. The craftlores they once held as gnomes become corrupt within their fractured minds and all quality is lost. In the rare moment a light of skill shine through, it's still shown through a dust covered stain glass. Where a gnome would craft a blade of polished silver with etched details, a goblin hammers out rusted iron, chipped and dented, even before use. Over all just shitty and not worth blundering.

But, there is some reasoning to this quick production, other than laziness and loss of talent, as their numbers constantly swell. Goblins have the ability to heal from almost any wound, but, sometimes, instead of the wound growing shut, it begins to grow a new goblin. Severed arms grow new bodies. Hatchet wounds in necks grow new heads, sharing the same frame with the old. The numbers swell in haste, and the new goblins must be armed! Armed so that the glory of violence can spread!

There are also the Brood Mothers, but they are best left mentioned for another time.

The Fae

"Fae" or wyldfae -  A broad term that can be applied to the creatures that inhabit the Faelands of Faerie (basically "the woods" or wild areas of Huldreheimen). In this instance, however, it specifically refers to what can be equated to the wildlife of that other world. Brownies, nixie, pixies, nymphs; the list goes on and on. While some do appear humanoid and are capable of speech, they are little more than animals to the Hulder and Erdgeist. Since the Great Sighing, the creatures have spread out into the new reality, causing the utmost confusion and trouble amongst the mortals.

There is rumor that the Fae all yield to a "Faerie King," but such notion is absurd. It would make as much sense as there being a King of Dogs. (Dogs, after all, use an imperial system).

The Erlking

The fabled Faerie King, ruler of the wilds of Otherworld, the Erlking stands an impressive nine feet tall. Though rarely seen out of his antler helm, his face is rumored to bear a wild nobility with hair as tangled as underbrush. A cloak of enchanted fur hangs from his shoulders, and a crown of golden flowers hangs from his belt. His voice is that of a rock avalanche. His hall is the thickest part of the woods, where neither Huldra nor adventurers have dared to go.

Of children, he has many, though all daughters they be. It is they who lead the nightly dance deep in the Faelands; a ceremony to ensure that the night continues until dawn. Lacking a male heir, the Erlking rides the roads closest to his kingdom, seeking to steal away sons from unsuspecting travelers.

It is rumored the Erlking was once a human named King Herla who, in fulfilling an oath to a Hulder King, became trapped within the Otherworld. This is troublesome, as the Earlking has been in power long before the Great Sighing. 

Nevertheless, human or faerie, he leads the ritual of the Wild Hunt based on a complicated lunar schedule. 

The Wild Hunt

The Erlking leads the ritual hunt from atop a mount of pure myth and terror, accompanied by his faithful Blood Hound (note: not bloodhound), and swarms the country side looking for game worthy of the Erlking's attention. Sometimes adventurers fall in the path of the Wild Hunt. In times like this they're offered a simple choice: "Hunt or be hunted." Should they choose to join, they are expected to uphold the honor and integrity of the hunt. Should they refuse...well, at least they were worthy of the King's attention.

Of what this ritual symbolizes, many have guessed, few have learned. Some think it to be celebrating the passing of the year, but time is not the same in Otherworld. Some years the Hunt occurs twice, some years not at all.

Continue Reading...

People of the Plains

Out in the Tavalinen Sea, a rolling plain of purple leafed grass, you'll find two nomadic groups of people: The Vapara and the Pijaki. While they travel the same "sea", they rarely come into contact, or desire to, as their routes often take them in separate directions. There have been known encounters between the two, however it rarely goes well for the Vapara.

Vapara

Also known as the Wagonfolk, the Vapara are a culture of largely human traders and merchants. Traveling in covered wagons, often brightly painted with strange murals reflecting the many stories they collect,  they skirt the edges of the Tavalinen Sea, connecting the "Port" towns and cities along it in a system of trade. While they're certainly not the only traders out there, they are the most well known.

Often seen as thieves and dirty, and accused of stealing children, they actually hold to strict hierarchical traditions, strict hygiene habits, and hold no prejudges in race when taking in orphans.

Gender Roles
Much of Vapara life is separated based on gender. Males hold public authority, while females are the head of a household. Men are typically the producers, seeing the construction and toolage, while the women are the upkeepers, giving to cleaning and preparing. In business, males tend to trade for other items, while females will sell outright for coin. It is thought women are more inclined to mystical arts (fortune telling, speaking with spirits, etc) while men tend to the material arts (song, brewing, etc).

Hierarchy
Traditionally, a band (or Vappania) of Vapara consists of ten to fifty extended families, and is lead by a Voivode, or "chieftain" for the cruder tongue. The Voivode is selected for life, and is assisted by a Phuri Dai - typically the Eldest woman of the Vappania. Whenever two or more bands find themselves in the same city, the Voivodes will hold council, usually to trade news and rumors (as well as to over drink in peace). All Voivodes, upon taking the station, swear fealty to the ancient, one true King of the Vapara - Johnny Faa.

Clothing and Style
The Vappania, both men and women, wear bright colors, often yellows and reds, and loose, flowing clothing. Women always wear dresses or full skirts, as bifurcation would be inappropriate. Men wear baggy pants, loose fitting shirts and large belts. Both wear jewelry, women fashioning gold, men silver. Though, men wear substantially less jewelry than women. In some of the more prudish cultures the Wagonfolk encounter, Vapara women are seen as lustful or seductive. This do to the held belief that the upper body is clean, and is fine to expose, while the lower body is dirty, for obvious biological reasons. The Woodwose don't see the issue.

Religion
While the Vapara do not worship a god, as they have "no king before Johnny Faa", they do hold themselves to a list of taboos, and acknowledge the importance of Faa's first consort Laxshi, Mistress of Wealth. As well, they pay homage and respect to the gods of the culture they are currently surrounded by. To do other wise would be the sign of a poor guest.

While they don't hold to any gods, they do have a handful of superstitions.

• Pure should not be contaminated by unpure. 
• This includes cursing. Vapara men are forbidden from cursing. Women, having a natural cycle of unpurity, are allowed leeway and, if really worked up, can generate some of the most sailor blushing curses heard.
• This also includes not drinking from the same water source as an animal that cleans itself (dog, cat). Drinking from the same water source as a horse or oxen is fine, as they do not lick their genitals. Strangely, it has come up.  
• A note should be drawn between "unpure" and "honest dirt." "Honest dirt" is gained through work and duty, though should still be cleansed, while "unpurity" happens through blood shed or sickness. 
•  A lucky charm is good to have
• A member of the Wagonfolk always has on them a lucky charm. Be it a four leaf clover, a rock with a hole, an iron nail, or nearly any other small carry-able object. (Doesn't take an inventory slot, if this is in question)
• The hooting of an owl and the screaming of a falling tree are ill omens.
• Care should be taken, and ears covered, least your soul be taken or the death screams drive you mad
• Bird droppings falling upon you is good luck
• this may be a joke created to screw with outsiders
• The lost and dying should be taken in, and given comfort. 

Stats

• Any Wagonfolk failing a Save of any sort, may instead lose their Good Luck Charm to ignore the result. Without the Charm however, the character takes -2 to all rolls until a new one is gained. Gaining a new charm should be a task and trial, not just simply "herp, derp, a neat stick, done."
• Any wearing over 10,000 gold in jewelry gain +2 to Personality(c) when interacting with other Vapara. 
• Any with Personality(w) of 13+ playing with a tarot has 1 in 20 chance of telling actual future. 1 in 12 if a witch. 
• Any Vapara that drinks from the same water source as a self cleaning animal, doesn't cover their ears and cross themselves at the hooting of an owl or felling of a tree, or if a male curses,  automatically fail their actions until they make themselves clean - or a bird defecates upon them. 

Pijaki

Named after their word for the bison they follow, cruder tongues refer to them as "Half-Orc." This name is incorrect at best, a horrible insult at worst. The Pijaki breed true, but as an off branch of Orc species, they tend to be more civilized than their cousins. "Half-human" the slur goes. And, of course, "civilized" in this context meaning they don't immediately kill you for trespassing. They'll probably even ask you questions first. Truth be told, they're inclined to ask questions and come to an arrangement, rather than kill out right. This is possibly the sole reason there are any Vapara left.

"Do not kill the entire herd when you are hungry," is an old adage of theirs. Being a people that follow herds, they harvest only what they need from the herd. In this way, the herd survives and grows stronger. From this the Pijaki grow stronger. And you're entirely correct to think they do the same to the Vapara. If you kill a man, and take his stuff, his line and trade end there. BUT, if you take only a few of his nicer things, that man can still make a living, and grow rich to have many fat children. Those children will then form more caravans, which your children will then raid.

Obviously the Pijaki do not share this plan with the Vapara.

But, yes, as stated the Pijaki are herdsmen, following herds of the huge Dire Bison (from which they take their name) across the plains, riding atop great domesticated bears. They take almost everything they need from these herds: meat, shelter, weapons, clothing. In return they see that the herd grows stronger. They cull the weak, stifle sickness, ensure the strong breed. They're like gardeners. Meat gardeners.

Little is known of the Pijaki other than that, and such is the way they prefer it. That being said, here is an assortment of information.

Language
The Pijaki speak a language their own, derived from Orc, but instead of being grammatically gendered between male and female, their words are divided between animate and inanimate. Interestingly, their words for other cultures are inanimate, with the words used to describe themselves and orcs are animate.

While the Pijaki have a rich oral tradition, handed down by a shaman or elder witch, they lack written historical records and even, usually, literacy, as reading and writing is clearly a form of magic. I have, after all, implanted knowledge in your head about a made up fantasy race, without even uttering a word to you. They don't truck with that.

Religion
The world of the Pijaki is a mixture of the physical and the spiritual, the latter bridged by shamans and heavy intoxicants. These shamans, usually alone or with a member of the tribe going through rite of passage, commune with the spirits in holy sites spread through out the Tavalinen Sea - hot springs, neat looking boulders, the mysterious monoliths dotting the landscape. In times of need the Shamans consort the spirits - called the Kwiocos - for guidance and wisdom.

Werocosuk
Chief among the Kwiocos is Werocosuk, the most Pijakish looking of all the spirits. All members of the Pijaki who have undergone the Rite of Passage have encountered Werocosuk, always appearing as a young warrior alone in the towering grass of the Sea. Standing a broad eight feet tall, wearing simple pijaki-hide (the animal, not the people) armor, and encloaked in a fur of an animal not native to the grass lands (actually, extinct, but they have no way of knowing this) Werocosuk will speak to the Tribe Member in a voice echoing of breaking wood. He then challenges the Member either mentally or physically. Those who fail the test, die. Those who pass are warned not to seek him out again, and are made a part of tribe upon returning from their vision quest.

Werocosuk's primary domains are Wisdom and Strength, his words often warning that one must be had only in the place of the other. Wisdom without strength is inaction. Strength without wisdom is destruction.

All members of the tribes go through the Rites of Passage, both male and female, for all members are expected to be strong. Should a member of the tribe grow enfeeble, they are given a melee weapon and a week's rations, and are expected to wander out into the Sea to find their end.

Currently, they are not intended for player consumption, but this may be revisited.

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Spirit Binding

A while back, when I was doing that LARP hassle, I toyed around with various magic systems, because standing around reciting the same six phrases of nonsensical gibberish for twenty some spells while waving your hands like a jackass is dumb. One of those systems was a Words of Power. Another one was a Spirit Binding system. This is that one.

The system was separated into three levels: Magna, Prima, Summa. The names are purely fluff, though. Ignore them.

The binding process involved rituals based on levels. First level was simply applying the make-up. Second level was performing a mini, flashy ritual. Third level is where things got fun. For me, at least. More on that later.

The first level involved binding Lesser Spirits, so minor they're Nameless, unto yourself, in order to gain access to skills. Parry, dodge, maybe a resist. Costume props were largely make-up based. Probably some sort of script on the body part related to the skill. The bindings were changeable four times per day: Dawn, Noon, Dusk, and Midnight. If you missed them, you missed them.

The second level involved binding of Known Spirits in order to augment Attributes. Some spirits added to attributes, while taking from others. Some just gave additions. At this level the costume requirements increased to props, with the spirits giving pure bonus requiring more pieces. Horns, weird ears, contacts, maybe a tail. Some roleplay requirements thrown into the mix. This represents the blending of the PC and the Spirit, as the Known Spirits were essentially as strong as the character. The second level bindings were only changeable at two times during the day: Noon and Midnight.

The third level is where things get a bit different. For starters, GM intervention is required. Secondly, a major ritual is performed to summon the creature. Thirdly, success is not guaranteed. Also, purchasing the skills at this level do not give instant ability, only possibility. The ability must be earned. The third level was usable only once per event.

At this point, the character is able to summon  and forming Pacts with Named Spirits. These are major spirits so powerful they have their own True Name. This True Name, along with proper procedures for summoning, sigils to draw, offerings to give and proper incants, must be learned through research and quests. Simply being told the requirements is not sufficient. One must Learn in order to Know. Due to Magic reasons.

The important thing to remember is that rituals require sacrifice. The sacrifices vary from Spirit to Spirit and are permanent. Typical offerings include alcohol, tobacco, props and service time. There are practical reasons for this: It causes the player to take an extra NPC shift for a mod, it adds props to a game that probably needs them and GMs enjoy booze and smokes. These are important bribes when wasting their time.

Summoning in this manner is dangerous and not guaranteed. Any number of factors can stop a spirit from entering the Pact (stepping within the circle): wrong offering, offering to little, offering not of high enough quality, service too trivial, half assery in ritual performance, etc. Yet, should they accept and enter the circle, the spirit will carry out the Pact in earnest.

Before I abandoned the system like I did my first marriage, I figured two groups of Named Spirits - the Knowers and the Wielders.

The Knowers consisted of Knower of Known Knowledge, Knower of Hidden Knowledge, and Knower of Forgotten Knowledge. Their basic jam is to answer questions based on their purview as long as the alcohol and tobacco holds out. Once it does, they leave. They'll answer honestly, and will tell out right if they don't know something.

The Wielders consisted of Wield of the Hammer, Wielder of the Bow, and probably a Wielder of Magic, had I continued. Their deal was the basically serve as an extra fighter for a mod, in exchange for a weapon prop and the player's service for a mod (extra partial NPC shift).

So, yeah, there it is.

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Mooks and Camping

The Set Up

In order to tell you the next part, I gotta tell you this part. The stated purpose of a homebrew system I'm toying with (until I inevitably get bored with it, and just use the GLOG [by Arnold K.] or Dungeon World) was to cut back on dice rolls, and to make every number important. You took time to write the numbers down, you might as well use them. "Why not FATE?" none of you ask. FATE is good, and has it's place, but I also enjoy some crunch. Reduced dice rolling AND some crunch? Yes, yes. It's about building bridges, damn it.

Either way, one of the ideas was to combine Wisdom and Charisma. Thought behind it was that Charisma is stereotypically a dump stat, and Wisdom is useful to...what, Clerics? Perceptive dudes? So, instead of two numbers laying around doing nothing, jam them into one number doing a few things. That being the Personality stat. That's why you'll occasionally see "Personality (or charisma/wisdom)" in my posts. I should probably make a short hand for this.

Personality (c) - Personality (or charisma depending on system)
Personalty (w) - Personality (or wisdom depending on system)

There. Done. Shut up.

What I'm getting at, is that one of the uses for Personality was to determine how many, and of what quality, hirelings you could have. That being you could have a total rating of mooks equal to your Personality. Got a Personality 12? Then you can have three rating 4 servants, two rating 6 servants, or twelve level 1 shitty servants running around acting as meat shields.

Also being mentioned is "Refresh." Long story short is your Vigor determines your stamina (which is basically your HP). It's effectively your ability to avoid taking lethal damage. It hits zero, you start getting stabbed to death. Quickly.

Stamina is easy to get back; you just rest for eight hours for Vigor modifier + Refresh value's worth of Vigor points restored. However, you can only get the rest needed in camp (or potions), as the dungeons are full of danger, odd sounds, bad smells, and the viscera of the monsters you just killed. Probably ghosts too.

The Pay Off

What follows is a list of mooks, used to do tasks the heroes are far to busy to do. Their primary stats are their Rating and Cost. Typically, the higher their Rating, the better they are at their job, and the more likely they are to stick around should things get violent or weird. Sometimes you just aren't paid enough for this shit. Which brings us to the Cost stat. The hired help ain't here for fun. They're here for that sweet, sweet gold. Some work for a standard rate, others for a percentage. Most mooks won't enter the Dungeon, or even leave camp, unless otherwise noted.

If the camp is attacked, roll a d6 per mook. If you roll their rating or under, they stick around. Minimum Rating is 1. Any special ability with a cost is optional. Whenever a roll is needed on their part, Rating is typically used.

Pack Mule
Rating: 1-5
Cost: Rating x 100 gold per week
Function: Can carry up to 10+Rating of inventory slots. Half rating of quick slots. This is person, not an actual mule.
Special: Paid To Be Here - Will enter the Dungeon, but will not fight
             Strong Back, Weak Mind - +2 inventory slots, +100 cost, -1 Rating

Steward
Rating: 3
Cost: 10% of the treasure or 450 gold per week
Function: Tends to the Camp, making it nice and seeing to general upkeep while their employers are gone. You know, stewarding. Only one Steward may be present in a camp at a time.
Special: Make Things Nice - +2 Refresh
             Managerial Experience - +3 personality to hire additional servants, +150 cost

Cook
Rating: 2
Cost: 200 gold per week
Function: Really? I gotta explain this one?
Special: Stone Soup - A favorite among murder hobos. +1 refresh

Camp Guard
Rating: 4
Cost: 10% of treasure
Function: Watches the camp while PCs do other things. Like sleeping. Not fond of Dungeons.
Special: The Hell is That? - +1 to Rating when attempting to make perception checks
            Death Yell - +5% to cost. Guard is able to give one final yell as he is suddenly Back Stabbed in the night, alerting PCs.

Blacksmith
Rating: 3
Cost: 200 gold per week for retainer plus cost of repairs
Function: Sets up a small forge on the edge of camp. Will repair things for you.
Special: Repair - Will repair things for cost
             Identify Material - Will identify material, if possible. 25 gold per chunk

Alchemist
Rating: 3
Cost: 200 gold per week for retainer plus cost of potion
Function: Sets up a small lab on edge of camp. Will make potions for you.
Special: Alchemy - Will brew potions at cost
              Poison - Able to make a poison if you supply ingredients. +150 to cost.

Lore Master
Rating: 2
Cost: 500 gold per week
Function: Carries a collection of grimoires. Knows some ancient forgotten knowledge.
Special: Read Scroll - Is able to translate ancients scrolls or strange moon language. Unless plot calls for otherwise, of course.
             Identify Item - Able to identify a unique object, mineral, or other thingajig which allows for their usage. Identification takes a while and the cost is variable.

Barber-Chirurgeon
Rating: 2-4
Cost: 750 * Rating gold per week
Function: Knows how to patch bodies back together. Well, most of them. Usually. They can probably fake it.
Special: Pretty Sure I Can Keep You Alive - Through their expert care, time to heal lethal wounds is quickened by Rating. Refresh is also increased by Rating.
             Shave and Haircut - 2 gold

Dog
Rating: 1-3
Cost: Rating * 500 gold out right
Function: It's a dog. It does dog things. While it understands some basic commands, a handle animal test would be needed to get it to do fancier things. Only 1 is keep-able by PC, unless class features over rule this. Will enter Dungeons.
Special: Who's a Good Boy? - Treated as having Rating 6 for Run Away rolls. As in don't bother rolling. It stays. Unless maltreated in some way.
             Tracking - Dog is able to track things occassionally, if given a proper scent to follow. +1000 to cost. What does the dog do with all this gold? I don't know. Dog things.

Skald
Rating: 1-4
Cost: Rating * 200 gold per week
Function: Tells tales, sings songs, plays pipes. Knows some history. Will record deeds of PCs and make their own songs and epics based on them.
Special: Play It Again - +Rating Refresh


More Refresh Jams
Equipment, too, can add to Refresh rates. Keep in mind, however, enough camp equipment will require wagons.

• Basic Adventure Tent: +0 to Refresh. Rolls up with bed roll for easy carrying. Sort of like a pup tent
• Really nice tent: +1 to Refresh. Thicker fabric, water proof, stronger frame. 
• Great Tent: +2 to Refresh. Strong carved A-Frame. Tall enough to stand up in. Requires Wagon
• Basic Ground Roll: +0 to Refresh. Rolls up with basic tent for easy carrying.
• Really nice cot: +1 to Refresh. Gets you off the ground. Has some furs on it.
• Great Bed: +2 to Refresh. Nice, strong bed. Plenty of warm furs. Requires Wagon to carry. 
• Adventuring Coffee: +.5 to Refresh. Gets you going. 
• Strong Ale: +1 to Refresh. Does add to Drunk rate. 
• Whisky: +1.5 to Refresh. Good old sipping whisky. Good for post adventuring. 

The basic thought behind "Refresh" is that the camp scene is nice and suitable for resting, unlike the Dungeon. Anything that would help with that would probably add to a Refresh rate. 

Hell, while I'm thinking of it:

Wagon

Has Ten Wagon Inventory slots. While a backpack also has ten inventory slots, 1 backpack takes up 1 wagon slot. Requires a beast of burden to pull. A person also takes up one slot (driver and one passenger not included) 

Covered Wagon

Has Four Wagon Inventory slots, but also functions as a Great Tent and can hold a Great Bed without set up/break down. Allowing for faster breaking of camp. 

Wagon Driver

Rating: 3
Cost: 500 gold per week
Function: Drives the wagon, takes care of the Beasts.
Special: Gopher - +2 rating, +100 gold to cost. Can be sent out for resupply or deliver messages if a town or village is close enough. Requires payment for supplies up front. Potentially vulnerable to attacks. Would be wise to send at least 1 guard. 

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Of the Dwarrows

In the Beginning

In the Beginning, there were the Forge Fires of the Maker, deep within the earth, from which the Dwarrows crawled. They remain still, even to this day, however they are currently in the hands of the Duegar. But I digress, more on this later. Given form by the Fires, and breath by the Bellows, the Dwarves are natural craftsmen, especially when it comes to stone. Iron marbles their bones and traces of silver can be found in their eyes, should you know an alchemist with a loose ethical code willing to boil them down.

For time countless, the dwarrows lived around the Forge Fires, deep underground. They mined, crafted, worshiped, and fermented strange molds all in the vague glows of the lava flows. Their tunnels grew ever outward, downward, and upward. Grand halls were - and are still - carved from solid rock. Mighty metropolises decorated in intricate patterns, and statuary of kings and civic heroes past, were born forth from the earth. Underground rivers were charted and redirected. All these in the search for precious and useful metals. In these times the Tenets of the Maker (which teach the importants of Community, Hearth and Forge) were held to by all, and used to protect against the strange things, often found in the deep dark.

In the abscense of the sun, time worked different. Days were based around the bioluminescence of the algae blooms found within the caves. An average dwarf day lasted about 30 hours, and was divided evenly into three separate time periods, or "shifts." These were further broken down into , , and "swings" (roughly three seconds)

Dwarven society was, at this time. divided in to a class system - the name in their tongue roughly translates to "strata" in ours - which gave priority to the Priests and the wealthy. Some modern dwarrows will cluck their teeth at this system, but none will dismiss it. One should never deny the usefulness of a tool.

Things, in short, were Nice. And then, they got Fucked.

You see, the Dwarfs have a legend of "Ragnarok" - literally "Day of No Rock" - a day in which the world runs out of rock to mine. For a race that has spent their existence completely within the stones of the earth, such a time would unthinkable. Such a time would be catastrophic.

So you can imagine what happened when they reached the surface.

Panic swept through the Tunnels, as the discovery quickly turned to gossip, which only fueled the flames. As many marriage oaths were "until the gold runs out" (an unthinkable event used for poetic device), were the bounds still valid? Some claimed when the surface was broken, the miners fell up. Other reported a ball of fire, watching the world. Judging. These couldn't be true, others said. But, true or not, this Mass of Nothing could only be one thing: The marking of the end of days.

Suggesting Ragnarok was upon them, for sins unknown, the Priests of the Maker claimed the only way to repent was to return to the Forge Fires, deep within the earth. To shun the light appearing from high above, and embrace the comfortable darkness below. And so, with the wealthier class, they left to find the ancient homelands of the dwarrows. In time, they became the Deugar.

With their primary bastions of leadership gone, the dwarrows did what any dwarf does when aurthority is abscent, but there's plenty of booze: They fought. Wars broke out among the populous, with aligences shifting quickly. It wasn't uncommon to see two combatants fighting against on another in the morning, but side by side come kelpset.

Dwarf society crumpled and burned to ash. But, as with iron, ashes make the material stronger. From the chaos one dwarf drew forth order: Therdren Ironsoul, who first laid out the Nine Virtues of Dwarven Kind, banished the caste system of old and became the first King. These Virtues were applied as addendums to the Maker's Teachings.

1. Strength - The arm that swings the Hammer, forges the strongest Sword
2. Courage - Back not away from Challange
3. Hospitality - Give succor to those in Need
4. Honor - Disgracing yourself Disgraces your Fathers
5. Freedom - Give in to no Bounds, for with them goes your Spirit
6. Kinship - Stand with your Brothers, in Joy and Sorrow
7. Industriousness - Strive to perfect your Craft always
8. Ancestry - Remember from Where you came
9. Self Reliance - Rely only upon Yourself, so others may rely upon You

Iron Maidens

The first to carry the Words of Ironsoul were his daughters. Through them the dwarves were taught to honor King Therdren, but stressed that worshiping him was false. Over the centuries, it become customary for clerics to be strictly female and remain maidens as the original Daughters did. (Ironsoul's numerous sons were more than enough to continue the blood line) From this they take their name: The Iron Maidens. In keeping with strict tradition and ancestry, modern Iron Maidens do not shave their beards, as some female dwarrows have taken to doing - the bare chin a fashion gleaned from Human females.

Spheres

While dwarven architecture and sculpting hold to block aesthetics, with natural curves where appropriate, the dwarrows hold the sphere as a perfect - even holy - shape. After all, any apprentice can form a perfect cube with a bit of chipping and sanding, but it takes true concentration and patience to achieve a recognizable sphere, and, it is thought, only the Maker could craft a perfect sphere; all others containing an unseeable flaw by the nature of mortality. For the dwarves - especially the Iron Maidens - the crafting of spheres from various materials is used as a form of mediation. In fact, all (read: those not above the surface) sites of worship are grand caverns carved into a perfect sphere. The purpose of this is many fold: 1) It reminds the carvers that they craft in the name of the Maker, 2) It helps center the minds of those who worship, and 3) The reverberations offered by the shape.

Dwarven worship is perhaps some of the most solemn in nature, yet also the most passionate. Outsiders who have witnessed the rituals, though rare they be, have often been brought to tears as the words of reverence, in the form of Gregorian style chants, echo in the eternal night of the underground. These chants, empowered by the reverberation of the spherical chambers, echo through out the mines and underground kingdoms. Even after the schism, both factions hold chanting as an important form of ritual, even if their views wildly differ.

The Surface

While some descended back into the earth and some remained in their traditional homes, there were some who eagerly sought to explore the strange new world of the surface. And they were rewarded for their curiosity, for they soon encountered Humans and, in turn, gained a strange magic: the ability to turn items of trivial craft into Gold. Humans, as the strange, tall creatures of the surface called themselves, turned out to be friendlier than the dark creatures encountered in the "wilds" of the subterranean. Well, for the most part. -Ish. Either way, the important thing is, they had gold of their own, and seemed all too eager to give it up for dwarven crafts. Even those made by lowly apprentices.

Slowly, but surely, the dwarrows that took to the surface integrated into human society, sharing their culture with the humans, and taking some of the human customs as their own. Today, many a young dwarf can be found in human cities performing odd jobs, running shops of various sorts, selling grilled rats on sticks, and even adventuring; typically sending a portion of their wages back home to their families.

Tools

Obviously, dwarrows are known for their tool usage. They're skilled in a wide variety of crafts, and therefore need a plethora of varied and specialized tools. What is little known, out side of dwarrow culture, is that a tool is an intimate item to a dwarf, much the same way a toothbrush or sex toy is to a human. A dwarf would not think to lend, or even ask to barrow, a tool from another, unless courtship rituals have been completed, and bonds of marriage have been planned out. If a dwarf needs a tool, they use their own, or none at all. Dwarrow view the liberal tool lending of humans as a form of deviancy, and teach their city bound children to stay away from such habits.

Dwarrow Stats

• Strength must be higher than Dexterity
• Have traditional low light vision
• Because of the iron lacing their bones, dwarrows are resistant to magic
• Dwarrows gain a reduction to fire damage equal to their smithing profession skills (if any)
• Having shorter legs, they lose 10 feet to their movement; and due to their density are treated as having fallen 10 feet further
• Can use their beard as an item slot for jewelry (rings, talismans, etc) 
• Anvil Chorus: Once per day, while working with their tools and singing songs of virtue, a dwarf of Personality (or Wisdom 13 or higher may temperately improve the functionality of a device in some way.  

Duegar

Giving in to self-excile after the discovery of the Surface, the Priests and Upper classes retreated into the depths of the earth, seeking out the primordial Forge Fires of old. And so they found them, miles and miles and miles down. So too did they find the mythical First City, though most of it and its wonders were partially consumed by the Forge Fires. The city slowly sinks, the lower layer slowly melting away, but the Duegar build on, upper portions holding the lower sections in place.

Alone down there, in the deep dark, with nothing by out dated beliefs and bellies full of anger and hatred, the Duegar turned into vile, awful creatures. The caste system was reinforced, with many being forced into slavery and servitude. Slaves too, were taken from the monsters that dwelled within the "wilds" of the deep, where before they were killed outright. And so, in the centuries since, they become the cruel masters of the Deep Dark.

• As with the Dwarrow, so too with the Duegar, save for the Anvil Chorus
• Having grown accustom to the dim light of the Forge Fires, Duegar must save vs. blind when encountering a light source. They do have dark vision, however. Which is nice.
• Voice of Command: Once per day, a Duegar of Personality (or charisma) 13 or higher may attempt to Command a creature of the Deep Down. Many of the monsters down there have been bred as slaves at one point or another. There is a chance the feral beast may remember its true masters. 

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