Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Big Basic Weird Fairytale Equipment d100 Table



Characters start out with: a burlap sack, a few crusts of bread, clothes, and roll 1d100 on the fucking chart 3 times.
(Also I think with random equipment, we should probably roll stats, then equipment, then pick a class.)






.
1.      Knife with Whaletooth Handle
2.      Brass Shears
3.      Bear Skin
4.      Rapier with Clamshell-guard
5.      Big Rattan Shield
6.      Small Hunk of Fools Gold
7.      Wineskin, half-full
8.      Clay Pipe, Just a little Opium
9.      Bundle of String
10.  1 Silk Stocking
11.  Small Sack of Lead Shot
12.  Halfpike
13.  Cheap Tin Scissors
14.  Block & Tackle with 24’ Rope
15.  Hand Drill
16.  Powder Horn, Full
17.  Deer Hide
18.  Silver Lance (Medical)
19.  Crowbar
20.  5’ of Chain with a Horseshoe Welded on the End
21.  Pair of Dueling Pistols, 4 Balls, & 4 Vials of Powder in a Nice Box
22.  Clay Jug, ¼ full of Moonshine
23.  3 Threadbare Socks
24.  Heavy Fabric Sheet
25.  Pink Phrygian Cap
26.  Iron Tipped Spade
27.  3 Flasks of Oil
28.  Broadaxe
29.  Broken Manacles
30.  Dented Trumpet
31.  6 Wires of Various Lengths
32.  Heavy Belt with a Pointy Buckle
33.  Crock of Lard
34.  Plain Wooden Stein
35.  2 Bars of Strong Lye Soap
36.  Buckskin Jacket
37.  Oiled Iron Breadbasket
38.  Stubborn Donkey
39.  Straight Razor & Strop
40.  Heavy Chisel
41.  2 Dozen Caltrops
42.  Long Rivercane Switch
43.  50’ Rope
44.  Tin Whistle
45.  Lock & Key
46.  Prosthetic Leg
47.  Rusty Old Musket, Nonfunctional
48.  Nice Tricorn Hat
49.  Fine Brass Bonesaw
50.  Blankets
51.  Lantern, Flask of Oil, Flint
52.  Pan Flute
53.  Clay Pot of Clove Scented Pomade
54.  Whetstone
55.  2 Iron Pots with Lids
56.  Throwing Axe
57.  Flint, Steel, & Tinder
58.  30’ Sturdy Rope
59.  4 Small Bronze Bells
60.  Floppy Yellow Hat
61.  Monkey’s Fist Knot, tied around a Rock, 3’ Tail
62.  Small Willow Bow & 6 Arrows
63.  4 Torches, Flint, & Steel
64.  Canvas Tent
65.  Fancy Riding Crop
66.  Decorative Brass Nail
67.  Wooden Cup, Carved with the Symbol of God-most-Censorious
68.  6 Bone Needles
69.  Wheelbarrow
70.  Miner’s Pick
71.  3 Darts & a Dartboard
72.  Heavy Felling Axe
73.  Several Foolscaps of Fine Paper
74.  Water Skin
75.  Steel Bear Trap
76.  Mallet & 12 Wooden Stakes
77.  Small Cask of Rum
78.  Fishing Gear
79.  Lead Effigy of ISoG
80.  Flint & Steel
81.  6 Crude Knives
82.  Large Bottle of Laudanum
83.  Rusty Iron Cutlass
84.  Small Knife
85.  Sturdy Digging Stick, Orange Bodark
86.  Canvas Rucksack
87.  Grimoire: Summon & Bind a Tooth Collector
88.  Three Thick Beeswax Candles
89.  Iron Fireplace Poker
90.  5 Empty Vials
91.  2 Torches, Flint, & Steel
92.  Crude Bone Mattock
93.  Smooth River Stone
94.  Crampons
95.  Huge Grain Flail studded with Scrap Iron
96.  Small Sword
97.  Mallet & 6 Iron Spikes
98.  Awkward Crossbow, 4 Bolts
99.  Dental Pliers
100.    Goat Leather Sling & 3 Iron Bullets


Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Murder Xmas in July

So late last year, Chris asked me to write an adventure about evil Santa Claus. I hesitated.

I don’t like Christmas, at all.

David Lewis Johnson


(Being an atheist, queer, transwoman without family ties would be enough. However, I’ve worked in retail for the majority of my life so I extra super fucking hate xmas.)

Then I was just like, fuck it. I wanna do this, but make it fucking terrifying. Like why would you want a campy, softcore xmas adventure? I dunno, I guess folks do. But I sure as shit didn’t want to write that.

Shortly thereafer, I got flooded with inspirational/aspirational artwork, and the goddamned thing bled out of me in a single arterial spurt.


Thomas Novosel
C├ędric Plante


Then everyone else involved helped me make it so, so much better. (Especially you Liz!)

Now, “Santa is Dead” has been nominated for a fucking Ennie, in the Free Product Category. Which is a little crazy. It’s a seasonal product from a first time publisher… like this situation is surprising.

Until you look at the team Chris assembled.


And, if you have a few bucks to spare, the money “Santa is Dead” earns goes to a great cause.







*****

What's an Ennie? It's basically like the Gen Con award. One of the bigger awards, I think, in the industry. It is somehow vaguely associated with that ENworld website. I am still not sure what ENworld is. 
So yeah, it's the Gen Con award, and is based on fan voting. So if you are a fan, please vote.

Saturday, May 27, 2017

A biosociopsychological look at orcs

at the edge of the children pit



In orcs, pregnancy strikes like a disease. Mothers never really recover from it. Sooner or later it kills them.

Sooner than later.
A final gift from the father of her children. The one who did not acknowledge her voice.
Always final.

Fever and delirium are the headiest symptoms. The delirium dims whilst the infant suckles. The fever remains, usually quite high. Like garbage coffee, overheated to hide its hideousness, orc milk sears the tongue.

Orcine infants fight to cease feeding. Orcine mothers fight to feed them continually.

From almost their first breath, orcs know nothing but pain and violence.

After three days, occasionally as long as three weeks, the infants can consume raw flesh. They are then thrown into the children pit with a few fresh carcasses. Whenever a child can climb out of the pit, they are members of the tribe.

This is celebrated with a feast.

The feast of course is an affront to the hateful yellow god that made the orcs.
Fasting follows it. Sometimes famine.

Orcs are made to hate and to suffer.

Saturday, April 29, 2017

Sunstroke Daemon

a being built of living EM energy  



HD 2+2. AC made of raw sunshine. 2 Attacks: 1d12/1d12 blistering microwave claws or Special: continual light 1/rnd; loves to blind folks. Move: unhurried and sneering. Special: it cannot be harmed by non-magical means. Special: takes 1d12 damage from darkness and shadow type spells. Special: can be trapped via any opaque surface, assuming a light-tight seal.

Amazing Art by Sam Mameli


A puzzle-ish monster featured in Ruinous Palace of the Metegorgos.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Darf!


Darf! a playable class (if you hate everyone in your group)


Darfs are pretty small. Darfs are all unique. Darfs are probably a joke played by some dumb god of coked up orcs or something.

They share a few common traits: stubby little limbs, blunt mismatched tails, big stupid mouths.

The things can ambulate on either 2 or 4 legs. Mostly though, they slapstick and slip their way ahead, more or less.

All, however, squeak out the word, “Darf!” when frightened, hurt, or perplexed.

Game Shiz:

Darfs! advance as thieves/specialists

  • HD d12 (Min 6)
  • BAB -1
  • Armor: Natural AC  of 15. May only wear helmets, AC 17, but it looks really stupid.
  • Saves: All saves begin at 10. All go down by 1, per level. Darfs are notoriously hard to kill. Obnoxiously lucky.
  • Weapons: All weapons wielded by Darfs do 1d3 damage at most. (Note that their strength falls within human norms. Those dumb little fingers, though… those, those idiotic fumbling movements… No matter if it is the Lasso of Eternity or a lousy prison shank or a fucking halberd – all inflict the same ineffectual amount of damage.)

Special Notes:
  • Darfs are twice as likely set off traps, but are allowed a saving throw to avoid harmful effects (whether typically called for or not).
  • Beings hearing the exclamative “Darf!”, as spoken by a Darf, are twice as likely to react with hostility towards the Darf and any perceived Darf allies.
So yeah. I'll have a better illustrated pdf of this with a background table as a PWYW eventually.

But, with FLAILSNAILS kicking back in, I felt this needed to be out there.

Friday, February 3, 2017

rough fictional setup



Steel and plastic corridors creak |pop | and echo|| always. Weight was luxury. Ain’t nobody had no square to spare for unnecessary bullshit.

I mean of course you bring some yeast with ya, some herb, some seeds maybe. All that’s just money in the bank, and you could hide it in your pockets. Just had to wear heavy boots at Gate A weigh-in, then tell ‘em you emptied your pockets come reweigh at Gate C. Dropping weight ain’t never suspicious – at least not to underpaid government vetters.

Then we got here and it weren’t quite done. Told us that just meant more jobs… Jobs no poor schlub on govt. lists ever could do…

So now we’re here, and cramped. 

Now we’re fed, nearly enough. Nothing to do. Just fucking | fighting | and waiting to die.

Something gets wrecked, the Man comes around. Get too rowdy, the Man comes around. Get too happy, Man comes around to steal your herb.

Just waiting to die. Rust and grey corridors and tiny black windows into nothing.
Somebody let the nothing in…

Folks and corridors are becoming just that, nothing.
The Man don’t care. It was cheaper to blast us all into space.
They ain’t spending no square, taking no time to see why we’re going away.

So what you gonna do about it, wizard?


Thursday, February 2, 2017

it begins…



You are all no longer of this town.

Or maybe you never really were.

The soothsayer each village hides away from the Church found your lot, read the intestines. (I hope it weren’t your little brother’s…) 

You are all special, heroes chosen.

Cruel spins the wheel of fate.

Wanderers will you ever be…

Cruel caricatures in plots preposterous entangled.

But first, before you leave, a little help, please. It awoke, or maybe we just noticed, but evil has pressed forth from the fog shrouded wood. Please, heroes, smite it, or trick it, or cajole it asleep.


Do not fail to render aid, lest you be damned to an even more terrible fate…