Showing posts with label campaign details. Show all posts
Showing posts with label campaign details. Show all posts

Thursday, 5 July 2012

[To Coin a World] Underworld Portal

"Well, obviously, travelling to the underworlds, the myriad lands of the dead, is very easy. Grab a knife, pick a vital organ, insert, and you're there. Travelling there in such as way that you can travel back again, that's a bit harder.


I do know of a spell that will let you do that, open a portal to the beyond. While the spell itself is not that hard, barely more difficult than a good old fireball incantation, it does have some... challenges associated with it. For starters, the spell won't work anywhere on this world. Thankfully, you can get around that by sailing to the very edge of the Coin, casting the spell so that the portal appears off the edge. Best to make sure you're going at a fair clip when you do it though. You don't want to come up short and fall into open space. 


Oh, and if you think sailing a ship off the very edge of the world is difficult, just wait till you try coming back..."

Wednesday, 27 June 2012

[To Coin a World] Pyresburg

The Beacon City


A rather confused artist's impression of the city


Pyresburg has stood (mostly) for nearly two thousand years (again, mostly. Damned wizards), andhas played a pivotal role in the building of a dozen empires. It is also home to a lot of pigeons. Some of whom are said to have interbred with vultures.

Theme and Mood

Theme: Light and Fire, Smoke and Shadow 
Pyresburg has always been a beacon of civilization on Spindlewick, a shining example of everything a great city can be, what the fires of progress can forge. But it is also an example of every shadow that a beacon casts, and of what can be lost if a forge burns untended.

Mood: Bustling and Self-Absorbed.
The streets of Pyresburg are crowded and noisy at all hours of the day and night, thronging with locals, and visitors from all over the Coin. Most of these visitors are merchants, passing through, or selling to other merchants, as the city produces very little raw material itself. And yet somehow, even with this reliance on trade, those within its walls care little for the goings on outside, except as the occasional fashion or fad. The city has been here, always busy, always leading and lighting the way, for what seems like forever, while the rest of the world changes and follows.

The Sights

The Pyre
An incredibly tall solid (if slightly twisty) stone tower topped with a great fire, the Pyre for which the city is named has stood on its small rocky spit, serving as a lighthouse for as long as recorded history. In times of danger it is also used as a signal to the surrounding countryside by the simple expedient of adding an alchemical agent to change the colour of the flame, and on a clear night with some elevation and a spyglass, can be seen half-way across the world.

The Pyresbaron’s Palace
Supposedly the same building from which pyresburg has been ruled for the last two millennia, the Palace has been upgraded, downgraded, sidegraded, repainted, reoriented, reverted, inverted, added on to, or in some other manner modified by nearly every Baron to take residence in it (several of whom were quite crazy). As a result it is a rambling hodge-podge of architectural styles, stuffed full of rooms that nobody uses, or for even remembers the original purpose of.
A quiet evening

The Windings
Even the most hardened warriors hesitate to enter this maze of twisty little alleyways, all alike. The majority of Hoblings in the city live here, alongside the dregs of human society, but do not be fooled into thinking that they’ve raised the property values. If anything, it has an even darker reputation than it did a hundred years ago when a mercenary giant wandered into the area and was found the next day, devoid of both his wallet and several internal organs.

The Night Market
Under the glare of the Pyre, the city never truly sleeps, and business of one sort or another continues at all hours. The night market fills several minor squares, the streets in between, and in some cases, even extending to the catacombs below, with vendors selling everything that you could find in a regular market (for the benefit of those who keep later hours), and a lot more strange or illegal things besides. 





The Drowned Rat Tavern
A famous drinking establishment, but sadly not for exemplary service or fine beverages. Rather, the Drowned Rat attracts daredevils and the terminally curious, as it has been destroyed seven times in the last ten years, always in unusual circumstances. Why the owner, Johann Vine, keeps rebuilding it, and how he gets the money to do so, is a mystery.


The Elvish Embassy
Maintained in unison by the Dawnwind elves of inland Spindlewick, and the seafarers of distant Yendys, the Embassy organises trade between the two elvish groups, as well as to the human nations nearby. It also provides food, lodging, and luxurious baths for elvish travellers, and an excellent location to look out over the teeming human city and feel suitably superior.


The Temple of Untold Gods
A natural out-growth of the city’s mercantile nature, ancient and varied history, and its siren song to all and sundry, the Temple of Untold Gods is technically run by priests of Omnia (Goddess of Everything Not Covered By Other Gods), but is in fact an omni-denominational church that rents out shrine space to new religions, and is often visited by those faithful to gods not widely known in the city. Behind the building proper is a small dump where the trappings of long-dead cults are deposited, occasionally sifted by the Academy’s theology department.


The Pyresburg Academy
Must be Tuesday...
The oldest and most learned magical school on the Coin, the Academy was the greatest of its kind... until it burned down in mysterious circumstances 50 years ago, taking a fair chunk of the city, and all but a handful of wizards, with it. The rebuilding of the Academy has been an uphill battle, and it is still only a shadow of its former glory, but that very need to regain lost knowledge has made the Academy one of the best research institutes on Spindlewick, and a great place to sell rare books or magical devices. The locals have learned to largely ignore the periodic explosions and weird smells coming from the place.

Beneath the City
Pyresburg has existed for a long time, and the ground beneath it has taken on a consistency not unlike a Sbörk cheese – full of strange-smelling holes. Dwarf squats, Hobling warrens, basements, cellars, sewer systems both modern and long abandoned, underground sections of the old Academy (which are occasionally mobile), and older and more mysterious ruins jumble together beneath the streets. Some people tell tales of albino crocodiles that roam the underground. Those in the know scoff at such suggestions - crocodiles would be an easy meal for some of the things down there.


Yep, definitely Tuesday.

Personages of Note

PyresBaron Tiberius Hacken
A man bristly of moustache and large of ego, he considers himself a political genius, and a great patron of the arts. Most people in the know consider him a massively oblivious twit. How he’s survived nearly eight years since his election, where his predecessors died of Chronic Enemies within months is anybody’s guess.

Leonardor Doomwinch
Leonardor might well be the best dwarven engineer on the Coin, were he ever to actually finish constructing any of his inventions. Where most dwarves take pride in making a flawless finished work, Leonardor will only work on a project long enough to prove that he could hypothetically construct a perfect working construct. Of course, his designs are still incredible (if incomplete and occasionally hard to decipher), and even the basic prototypes for his inventions are marvels of engineering (if wildly unreliable), so he does not lack for patrons. There is a small industry of craftsmen in the city whose only job is to try to finish his designs, with varying success.

Daywatch Commander Lyadu Mzeze
A wandering hunter-adventurer from Zwuyala, Commander Mzeze came to Pyresburg in pursuit of a thief who had stolen a great trophy, the skull of a Zwuyalan Dire Tigerbear. Her pursuit of this criminal accidentally uncovered a smuggling ring, and caught the attention of the city watch. Intrigued by the prospect of hunting criminals through the streets of Pyresburg, she joined up as a constable, and 30 years later she is commander of the entire organization. Off duty she is a good humoured but sly old woman. On the job she is steely-eyed and tireless in her pursuit of justice.

Nightwatch Captain Thragg Turnskull.
Mzeze’s second-in-command, and Captain of the night shift, Thragg’s half-orcish night-vision and muscular bulk serve him well defending the streets from criminals. He shares his commander’s devotion to the Law, and to the City as a whole, even if most people would rather have nothing to do with somebody of orcish heritage.

Gonzo Loudfeet, Invasive Journalist.
Pyresburg is home to many thieves and spies and blackmailers. And recently, it has become home to something many consider even worse: a journalist. This obnoxious chain-smoking, coffee-skulling Hobling doesn’t even have the good grace to sell the information he purloins to the highest bidder, instead publishing it for all the world to see (or at least all the world with a spare copper or two, and the ability to read) in the daily broadsheet The Pyresburg Beacon.

Samuel Pander, Senior Firefighter Patrol.
Pyresburg has been burnt to the ground a number of times over its sordid history, but it won't do so again on Sam's watch. Or so he says, at least. He may have his work cut out for him, as he's actually the ONLY member of the firefighter patrol, and has been for many years. But he continues to patrol the city, selling water to thirsty folk to make ends meet, as well as sharing the surprisingly accurate and hard to come by information he picks up on his rounds... for a price. 


Sam on a typical day.

Criminal Groups


The Guild of Red Masks
The most famous guild of “gentleman” thieves and burglars on the Coin, the Red Masks’ official headquarters is in Pyresburg, according to legend, at least. Its membership are skilled, mobile, and universally possessed of a great deal of class, stealing only the most famous of objects, and looking down at the thugs and killers that are so common among the criminal class. The only way to enter the Guild is by invitation, and the only way to get that is with a heist executed with extreme daring, cunning and flair.  

The Studded Brotherhood
At the other end of the spectrum of criminal activity is the Studded Brotherhood, named after their near-uniform of studded leather armour and helmets. This organization of thugs and assassins control crime in a fair portion of the city, and would probably control a lot more if their lack of finesse hadn't caused the Red Masks to subtly side against them. 

Fighting Organizations

Have been covered elsewhere...

Random Encounters (d12)

  1. Puzzled tourist from some far off land, probably about to be fleeced.
  2. Studded Brotherhood gang-members loitering around. 
  3. Wannabe Red Mask running from the Watch. Is aiming more for dashing rather than fleeing. 
  4. The Pyresbaron's bright red coach, surrounded by guards. 
  5. Sound of a distant explosion. Anybody nearby will mutter "bloody wizards". 
  6. Watch patrol, seemingly loaded for bear. Will be puzzled if asked why they're heavily armed, as this is standard equipment.
  7. Beggars. Almost certainly collecting information for somebody
  8. Sam Pander and his water-cart. 
  9. Gonzo Loudfeet nosing about. 
  10. Weird noises from nearby drain. 
  11. See That Random Harlot Sub-table 
  12. Fight. 50% chance scheduled bar-fight, 50% chance flashy sword-duel.

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

[To Coin a World] Languille


Languille
The Croissant City

The city oozes around the mouth of the Voire like an architectural soup, rich in flavours and scents. Cramped streets suddenly give way to muddy canals, the buildings straining against the banks like looming beasts, predatory and storied. Decadent palaces and craven abodes alike hide behind crumbling facades and vine-covered walls, havens of privacy in a city where vice and virtue share the same body.

Languille's unique culture is the product of a centuries-long dance between the sun kingdom of Soleille and the great continent of Zwuyala. Decades ago, the city was ruled by the Solaise nobility, who formed an elegant and graceful cream on top of an underclass of oppressed Zwuyalan slaves and poor Reman laborers. But that was before Big Tuesday, and the Mort Reveille; the day the dead walked out of the river.

Dancing to the tune of the masked man called Baron Tuesday, the zombis took the ruling class out of the picture and turned the social pyramid upside down. Ancient Zwuyalan death magick mixed with the rich and fertile river magick of the Voire to throw the Solaise bourgeoise unceremoniously into the Cagé Quartier, and installed Baron Tuesday and his Zwuyalan allies in the House of the Rising Sun.

To escape the rage of the Sun King at the loss of one of his most prized cities, Baron Tuesday sort the protection of the Waldorf Ceasar, Emperor Otto von Karlswick, and in an unusual fit of competence and unity, the Reunited Imperium's armies found it in themselves to stop fighting against one another and smash the Sun King's armies at the Battle of Dunniewadér. And so it was that Languille passed from Soleille to the Remanschreik, and the dead went back to sleep on the river floor... for the most part.

Decades have passed, and the city has settled languidly into its new form. It may be true that Baron Tuesday is technically a lich, or a vampire, or a werewolf, or a black-hearted necromancer, or the Lord of Hell himself; but he is undoubtedly a popular ruler, at least outside of the Caged Ones or "Cajuns".

Perhaps no-one is surprised that, as the tables have turned, the newly-powerful black bourgeoise have begun to emulate their former oppressors, and the lily-white Cajun underclass have adopted several Zwuyalan traditions. The court of the Baron Tuesday seeps with all the elegance and opulence of a stately Lumiéran ball, from the overwrought corsetry to the elaborate masquerie, while the gutters and sewers of the Cagé Quartier, Cajun rootworkers delve into ancient Zwuyalana soul magick.

Theme and Mood

Theme: Life amongst Death

For a city steeped in necromancy and respect for the dead, Languille has a surprising zest and liveliness. Much like the fetid swamps that both nourish and suffocate it, the city thrives and grows with the cycle of life and death. That which is hidden beneath shuttered doors and darkened veils in other lands is celebrated out in the open in Languille. It is common to see a dying man feted by his family, or dead bodies openly lying in the streets waiting for collection, or a terminally diseased trumpeter playing in a jazz band.

Mood: Decaying Grandeur

Despite its commanding position at the mouth of the river Vieux, Languille has the feel of a city living off the wealth of better days. Since losing access to the enviable agricultural prosperity of Soleille, it has declined in economic importance compared to other ports on the Friendly Sea. Its aristocrats live decadent lives in immense decaying mansions, and its grand avenues become canals as they slowly sink into the fetid waters of the Vieux.

The Sights

The House of the Rising Sun

As the seat of an Elector of the Grand Reman League, the palace of the Baron Tuesday does not disappoint. The rambling gothic architecture of the House of the Rising Sun stands commandingly over the heart of the city on its highest hill, catching the morning light as the sun rises over the Rim. Surrounded by thorn-filled hedges maintained by an army of zombigardeners, the mansion plays host to the sometimes rambunctous intrigues of the Languillian aristocracy.

The Cagé Quartier

Once home to oversized slave markets, the Cagé Quartier now hosts the wretched hovels and slum dwellings of the descendants of the Solaise aristocracy; the Cajuns. It is well-known that places of great suffering hold a kind of memory of their own; the Cagé Quartier remembers the suffering of the Zwuyalan slaves who once passed through its gates. Through the whispers of ghosts, the Cajun underclass have learned much of the strange voodoo magicks of the jungle continent. As their overlords forget their roots and learn more of the civilised sorcery of Spindlewick, it becomes more and more likely that the Cajun rootworkers have become the true masters of Voodoun.

The Lurid Quartier

No other city on the Coin can match Languille for debauchery and decadence; its grand carnivals and street parties are notorious for their scale and sinfulness. At the heart of the Croissant City's depravity is the Lurid Quartier, a thriving riverside district filled with taverns, clubs, brothels, dancehouses, and music halls. Every building is painted in garish colours, every balcony holds its painted ladies, every street a riot of noise and sensation. For sailors, mercenaries, adventurers, traders, and merchants, it is a paradise made flesh. For those who are bound to work within it, it is perhaps a less glamorous experience.

The Red Windmill

At the heart of the Lurid Quartier stands an immense crimson windmill, slowly turning in the breeze; home of the Coin's most infamous bordello and music-hall. Run by the mysterious Madame Butterfly, the Red Windmill is the most lurid and decadent house in a lurid and decadent city. Each night, its dancing girls and zombi musicians thrill and entertain dozens of luminaries from across the Coin, none of whom would admit to their presence. Their anonymity is maintained by the enchanted masks that every customer dons upon entry, disguising their faces and voices.

Cemetery Hill

Just outside the city, on a hill that rises above the swamps, is the only remaining cemetery in the city. Most of the city's dead are buried in the river, or reanimated as zombis; few are given to the traditional Solaise funerary ways. However, some in the city still mark death with marble tombs and gravestones, even if the bodies are still mobile, and the city's necromancers need somewhere to store the vital ingredients of their art. Cemetary Hill is a place for quiet reflection in a city that prides itself on fearing silence more than death, and thus it is valued by many for more than just its original purpose as a place for bones to rest. Smugglers and criminals make furtive use of its many empty graves, and meet in quiet places under the grey branches of the shade-trees.

Personnages of Note

Baron Tuesday

The city's enigmatic ruler is a living embodiment of its nature; a master necromancer who revels in all things living, and an astute politician who knows when to demand, when to request, and when to throw a party. No-one knows of his past before the Mort Reveille, when he charmed the dead from their watery graves and lead the city's oppressed to victory over their oppressors. An imposingly tall figure, he is never seen without an ebony and bone mask that hides his face from view, immaculate white gloves, and a beautiful but decaying set of tails and top hat. In personality, he is somewhat fickle and changeable; at one moment, his deep voice is soothing and wise, in the next, graven and wrathful. All that is constant is his love of the Croissant City and his desire to keep its long carnival of life and death in motion, whatever that may take.

Lady Aschelle

Once a favoured consort to the Baron Tuesday, the aged but elegant Lady Aschelle is the most prominent figure in the court of the Rising Sun after Tuesday himself. A powerful necromancer and voodou sorceress in her own right, Lady Aschelle is known both for her compassion for the poor, and her utter ruthlessness in political and business dealings. She owns many of the least malodorous poorhouses in the CagĂ© Quartier, and maintains a series of trading interests across the League in the potion ingredients market, using cheap zombi labour to outmanuever the competition. Her compassion is attributed to her past as a poor cellar maid, trapped in servitude by the two sisters who now accompany her every crystal-covered step as zombi bodyguards. Lady Aschelle is an ear to the downtrodden in a world that has few such ears in high places, and as such she is sure to be a friend to any who fight oppression and a ruthless opponent when crossed.

Monsieur Brique

Bearing the black runic tatoos of an exiled dwarf upon his face, Languille's most prominent crime lord is a terrifying sight. Although he attempts to conceal his shameful past behind elegantly tailored suits and a tenuous grasp on Languillian high society, he will never escape it. Once the right-hand dwarf to the mysterious Madame Butterfly, he has thrived since leaving her employ in less than happy circumstances. Nothing moves through the river docks without his men knowing, and no-one demand protection money in the CagĂ© Quartier without paying their tithes to Monsieur Brique. In person, he tries to portray himself almost as a Solaise aristocrat, but his harsh accent, lowbrow sense of humour, and barely-controlled seething rage confirm his true nature as a brute.

Doc Delamour

There are many clever Cajun rootworkers in the CagĂ© Quartier, creating an elegant syncretic blend of Zwuyalan spirit magick and Spindle hedge wizardry. Most are incredibly secretive and deeply suspicious of outsiders; few will spin so much as a minor hex for those from outside the old Cajun families of the Quartier. They hide their work in the swamps and bayous. Doc Delamour is less discreet. As a Cajun rootworker with a surplus of ambition, greed, and gusto, he is more than happy to sling his services to the highest bidder. All sorts of potions and hexes are available for sale from his makeshift ambulating carriage, a common sight in the Lurid Quartier. When the good Doc is not selling love charms and poison chimes (effectiveness not guaranteed), he can be found enjoying the atmosphere of the Lurid Quartier's less expensive bordellos while trying desperately to climb the social ladder.


Random Encounter Chart

  1. Gang of wandering sailors, fresh off the boat, looking for thrills in the Lurid Quartier
  2. Zombi labourers clumsily unloading a merchant's cart
  3. Huge jazz funeral parade winding its way to Cemetery Hill
  4. Exquisitely beautiful painted ladies from the Red Windmill, dragging what looks to be a corpse
  5. Doc Delamour and his ambulatory carriage, selling his wares
  6. Tattooed Cajun heavies in leather jackets, enforcing a protection racket for Monsieur Brique
  7. Cajun rootworker disguised as a beggar
  8. Fetid swarm of swamp rats spilling out onto the streets
  9. Ancient gothic tenement collapsing into the swamp
  10. Sedan chair bearing the arms of the Baron Tuesday

Friday, 6 January 2012

[To Coin a World] Selected Gods

Below are briefly described some of the gods of the Coin. It should be noted that this is not an exhaustive list, as there are hundreds, if not thousands of deities of varying power and prevalence worshipped on the Coin. This is just a semi-representative sample.

Particular thanks to Jeff Rients, from whom I pilfered Omnia and the Frog gods.

The "Good":

Lord Aon

Chief god, general grumpy sky dad and master of lightning, Aon (or another suspiciously similar deity) is worshiped in almost every human culture on the Coin, although they vary as to which goddess is his wife and queen (leading to some interesting and very heated arguments). He is typically shown with two animal companions, although what these are varies - in the Hublands, he is shown with an owl (representing cunning) and a bear (representing badassery), while in the League heartlands he’s more often shown with an eagle and a lion. Combinations of these creatures might be considered holy gifts (griffons) or profane abominations (owlbears).

Hippatara

The primary goddess of rivers and fertility around the Friendly sea, and often depicted as the wife of Aon. Hippopotami are considered holy animals by her faith, and ancient depictions of her often show her as a ponderously-proportioned anthropomorphized hippo, although the modern church frowns on this. They also frown on the worship of Khadahan (see below).

Areena

A martial goddess, Areena’s creed promotes physical and moral purity, as well as crusades against evil-doers (or, if there aren’t any evil-doers around, foreign faiths), and the justice of trial by combat. There are several orders of warriors devoted to her, in the League and in a few other countries. Invariably, they are single-gender groups. Unicorns are considered holy to her faith (whereas everybody else thinks they’re crazy and dangerous). Her followers heartily dislike the followers of Frikk.

Khadahan

Another god of rivers, as well as sunbathing and long baths, the Crocodile-headed Khadahan was mostly only worshiped in Aratha until a recent miracle at the temple in Al-Harraj unified the splintered factions of his faith, and expanded his portfolio into the realm of fertility. His faithful are now trying to spread his worship around the Friendly sea, setting up bathhouse-shrines in several major cities. As a result, they’re in direct competition with the church of Hippatara.

Frikk

Goddess of war, alcohol, and carousing in general, Frikk’s faith is main popular in the Hublands, where the locals really appreciate those things. Where Areena’s warrior-clerics promote purity and honour, Frikk’s worshippers are encouraged to brawl, drink, sing loudly, and do whatever they want so long as it doesn’t hurt anybody (unless those people are your enemies, in which case, go right ahead). Areena’s faithful are generally considered to be too uptight, and should be mocked and needled wherever possible. Chainmail is considered a gift from her to mortals, and holy folk almost always wear it (often in far smaller quantities than would be considered sensible or proper, to show their faith in the goddess).


The Bad:

The Solar Dragon

The Solar Dragon is sort of a borderline Dark God. On the one hand, his Sollais faithful abhor all other dark gods. On the other, they abhor ALL other gods, claiming them false and demonic, while periodically sacrificing virgins and enemies of the state to him (by guillotine). The Sun Prince of Solielle is considered to be his chosen leader on the mortal plane. Images of a more feathery version of the Solar Dragon have also been found on some old temples in Zwuyala.

Iggujugglyoo

Another strange and unpleasant god from the jungles of Zwuyala, Iggujugglyoo, also known as He of the Thousand Teeth is a bloodthirsty god of carnivorous dinosaurs, particularly velociraptors. Little else is known about him, except that his worshippers tend to utterly crazed.

Rzngl the Unvoweled

Depicted as an elf with the heads of two deer, each able to shoot burning rays from their eyes, this demon prince (or princess, it seems to vary) enjoys blood sacrifices in a pleasantly woodland setting.

Tormentara

A goddess of temptation and corruption, Tormentara offers mortals their wildest desire, but always finds a way to take that desire to such an extreme as to be horrifying for the unfortunate that caught her attention. Her worship is both open and prevalent amongst the Dark Elves, who hope to placate her evil whims.

Gi’Am

A demon god of earth, stone, monsters and deathtraps, Gi’Am’s dungeon-temples are a favourite target for adventuring parties. Which seems to be just the way he likes it...

The Frog Gods of Chaos

Not a single god, but a multitude of extra-dimensional amphibious horrors devoted to corrupting or destroying the universe as a whole. Thankfully, they’re so chaotic that they often work at cross-purposes.


The Peculiar:

Urinor

God of sewers and plumbing, Urinor is among the youngest gods on the Coin, his faith only having existed for a few decades, at most, since his slightly unhinged prophet, a dwarven adventurer, began spreading his word. He mostly receives prayers in the form “Oh God, I really need a privy”.

Roadael

Different cultures differ as to whether Roadael is a demigod, a saint, or an archangel, but whatever the case, he is the patron of porters, hirelings, and servants, and is said to aid the other gods in preparing for manifestation on the mortal plane.

Omnia

Goddess of Everything Not Covered By Other Gods. As a result, the things Omnia is responsible for are strange, eclectic, and generally only come up in very unusual and specific situations. Her followers are rare and a bit weird, but are mostly quite nice, except for an shadowy (and insane) cult that wishes to destroy all the other gods so as to expand her power.

Kwaaak

The Bird God of Birds, Kwaaak’s faith dwindled to almost non-existance a thousand years ago, after he went insane over wizards developing flying brooms. His church was resurrected recently by an elvish princess, and is making headway promoting him as the (much more sane and reasonable) god of airborne travel in general.

Friday, 23 December 2011

[To Coin a World] Magic Weapons of the Friendly Sea

What follows are descriptions of the ten magic weapons known to be in use by various adventurers, both active and retired, around the Friendly sea.

Magebiter

Believed to be one of the many malfuctioning magic items left over from the Mage Wars, this sword seems to possess a rudimentary, animalistic personality, and a burning hatred of wizards of all stripes, seeking their deaths above all other things.

The Revenant Dirk
The origins of the Dirk are unclear, but the work of a Necromancer would not be far-fetched as an assumption. So long as the blade remains lodged in a dead body, that body will be animated and attempt to kill all living beings nearby.

Bitter Frost
Forged by the frost giants as a peace offering to the dwarven king in ages past, Bitter Frost bears the numbing cold of the wastes where it was forged, freezing any water that it contacts. It is also said to speak, and lament its own existence as a weapon of war.

The Twin Flails of Chastity
Quenched in the blood of a rabid unicorn, these two light flails are specially effective against those who could be considered loose with their affections.

Mindshiv
Found in the dungeons under the ruins of Xylarthen's Tower, this greenish hilt-less sword is said to be able to speak directly to the mind of the wielder, and sense the hostile intent of those nearby. It seeks new experiences, and if bored, may sabotage the current wielder so that it may be looted by somebody more interesting.

The Four Orcish Pirate Axes:
given as a gift by some dark and unpleasant god to the (now deceased) mutant leader of the orcish pirates known as the Bloody Axes of Powerful Killing, they appear similar in design, but each bears a different power.

The Axe of Power
This axe is able to strike with incredible force, quite out of proportion to the strength of the wielder, but is draining to use.

The Axe of Blood
Victims of this axe find their wounds bleed more freely than would be expected, and are difficult to heal.

The Axe of Killing
This axe can sense when a being is near death, and unerringly seeks to deal the final blow.

The Axe of Axes
When swung, this axe creates duplicates of itself, allowing it to be tossed at enemies as many times as the wielder wishes. The duplicates vanish after a short time.

Friday, 9 December 2011

[To Coin a World] Our Dragons are... diffferent?

Inspired by the wonderful series over at Lurking Rythmically, I thought I'd type out a few words about dragons on the Coin. They're not hugely different from "standard" D&D style dragons, except where they are...

Dragons breath fire.

Of course, there's quite a bit of variation as to how they do it. Some create a high-pressure gout of flame a hundred meters long, some spit fireballs that explode, some squirt flaming liquid, and some exhale clouds of smog that they then ignite with an electrical discharge. So, while fireproof armour will be invaluable against any dragon, the fire delivery method it has can change other tactical decisions.

Occasionally something will go wrong with the internal furnace of a dragon, usually while it's growing up, causing it to exhale toxic sludge or blasts of lightning. Other dragons consider such creatures hideous degenerates and try to kill them wherever possible.

Dragons are NOT immune to fire.
Dragonhide is very tough, turning aside most weapons, and it is also magic-resistant, turning away a fair number of spells. But, while it is quite resistant to heat, it is not totally fireproof, so a dragon can wade through a burning building, but will still be hurt by the breath of a fellow dragon. Or a large pile of explosives.

Most Dragons LOATH water.
Possibly this might have something to do with the fact they're creatures of fire. Or possibly they just don't like getting water under their scales. Either way, they avoid getting wet whenever they can. This is, in fact, why most dragons have their lairs in caves or dungeons rather than places open to the sky - while being able to fly straight up would be a huge tactical advantage, no dragon is going to sleep somewhere he might get rained on.

Having said that, they're not allergic to it or anything. In fact, if a dragon can overcome it's dislike of the substance, their sleek shape, huge lungs, and vast strength make them excellent swimmers.

Their life-cycle is very uneven.
It takes a dragon only a month or two to grow from a two-foot-long hatchling to a small-house-sized monstrosity, a period during which they are constantly hungry, and will eat literally anything in their immediate vicinity that they can chew (which, considering how hard their teeth are, is basically anything at all). However, once they reach that size, they grow very slowly. As they age, they get bigger, smarter, and lazier. Thankfully for the people of the Coin, once they reach a certain size, the dragon's internal systems seem to become self-sustaining, and they refuse to actually wake up for anything less than a direct attack on their person.

They're Magical, but can't do magic
Dragons are very magical. That's why they can fly despite their weight, can breath fire, can grow scales as hard as steel, and so on. It's also why they have such a huge variation in physical construction within the one species. But, like most inherently magical species, they can't actually cast spells like a human wizard (in fact, it might actually be humanity's lack of inherent magic that lets them do that, but that's a theory for another day). They certainly cannot change shape at will.

Friday, 18 November 2011

Other food and drink of the Coin

in our previous post the dwarven taste for rat was mentioned. A few other items of food and drink are noteworthy as well...

Gruznuk, or Orcish Death Spirit
Orcs are horrible cannibalistic creatures, and love alcohol, so it's probably no surprise that their most famous beverage is actually made from fermented internal organs, usually the livers of the brewer's enemies. The stuff is horrific, almost undrinkable to any non-orc, and even for orcs it can occasionally be lethal. The orcs see this as a plus, though. If a drinker is slain by a bottle of gruznuk, his internal organs are removed, fermented, and then poured back into the bottle, and the defeated orc's name is added to the label. Besting a bottle that has defeated all prior drinkers is considered a heroic feat by the murderous greenskins.

Dematerialized Food
An attempt by wizards to make light and easily portable rations for long journeys, this was once normal food that has had its very physical existence removed, making it a good deal lighter. In fact, it typically appears to be a completely empty paper bag. It is made edible by adding any kind of solid material to the bag, which turns into the specified kind of food.

...Usually. Live frogs are still technically food, right?

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

To Coin a World: Genie Servants


Most adventurers know of Genies, how they are magical beings from another plane, and that they can be bound to serve mortals, even granting wishes.

Fact is, most adventurers outside Aratha have no idea how the nitty-gritty of all that works. They assume that genies are just like demons.

They're not. While a demon can be bound by magical circles, and compelled to perform services, either for free or in exchange for sacrificies, depending on the power of the binding wizard, genies cannot be bound by wizards at all. They can be summoned, but are under no compulsion to obey the summoner.

However, genies have rituals known only to themselves that can bind other genies, forcing them to serve whoever possesses a specified binding object, usually a lamp, amulet or ring. Genie lords often trade these indentured slaves to wealthy Sultans or powerful sorcerers on the mortal plane, in exchange for goods or magic that can't be found on the genie's home dimension.

Occasionally a noble genie will be bound to grant wishes. This is reserved for only the most hated enemies of those doing the binding. Wishes can only be granted on the mortal plane, and each wish granted tears away a third of the genie's very essence, with the third wish either killing the genie, or leaving it a withered husk. Understandably, these genies are bitter, and will twist the wording of wishes to cause as much pain and sorrow on the wisher as they can.

Friday, 21 October 2011

[To Coin a World] The Brotherhood of Sin Eaters

yet another order of mountain-dwelling holy men, the Brotherhood of Sin Eaters believe it is there holy mission to cleanse supplicants of sin, by taking the sin onto themselves an digesting it, using gluttony to fight its sibling sins. To have one's sins eaten, a supplicant must journey to their monastery, convince them of both the unique flavour of his sins and his willingness to have them expunged, and then be anointed in holy sauces and walk across hot coals, a process overseen by the order's Head Friar. Once this is complete, the Brothers will set to work with their Soul Knives, Forks and Spoons. The supplicant will leave cleansed of his darkest inclinations, and feeling strangely peckish.

Due to their diet, the Brothers are universally gluttonous, and after a meal, will often suffer the dark urges the latest supplicant. At least until they partake of a holy digestive wafer.

Tuesday, 18 October 2011

A thought about local linguistics

Recently I've been studying the Late Middle Ages/Renaissance, in particular in Italy. It's become increasingly apparent that 1: it's a great time and place for gaming, and 2: I already knew that, sort of, because how I've always imagined Pyresburg and various other bits of the coastal area near the Friendly Sea sort of matches up with what I'm learning.

Except for the names. The few locations I've actually given names that my players are aware of (the few-ness being a problem I need to fix...) sound like what they are: compound words, or purely made-up stuff. In both cases, chosen by somebody who can only speak English, and horrifically anglicizes any foreign words he comes across. What they don't sound like is Italian.

But maybe there's a (hastily ass-pulled) reason for this: they're "translated" to make them sound like they originated in the player's native tongue, much like in the game-world they originated in the character's native tongue and don't sound like they're "foreign".

Would you buy this explanation as a player? Have you used similar explanations before? Have I adequately explained my thoughts?

Thursday, 21 July 2011

[To Coin a World] The Tax Monks

One of the many orders of holy men that inhabit monasteries throughout the mountains of spindlewick, "The Tax Monks" is the name used by the populace to describe the Holy Order of the Civil Servants of the Universal Bureaucracy, a group dating back to when the Xing Empire ruled Spindlewick thousands of years ago. Civil service is a holy work to these high-trained monks, and they go on pilgrimages, pledging themselves to aid in maintaining some aspect of high civilization, often the delivery of letters, or the collection of taxes. Their Aetheric Auditor fighting style and iron sense of duty make them rightly feared by bandits and corrupt taxmen alike.

Monday, 18 July 2011

[To Coin a World] The Disenchanted Forest

Spindlewick, the major hub-continent of the Coin, is covered in forests. Most of them are enchanted, and are positively lousy with fairies, unicorns, and other obnoxious and highly-magical beings. Against this magical backdrop, one region stands out - The Disenchanted Forest. The area is completely devoid of magic. Spells do not work under its eves, enchanted items are useless, and magical beings lose any magical powers and properties until they leave the wood.

Encounters in the Disenchanted Forest:
  • A completely normal, non-talking, non-mutated animal.
  • A rather confused lycanthrope that has become a completely normal man, at least temporarily. Probably looking for some clothes.
  • A group of wizards doing research on the area. Their spells don't work, so they're carying ridiculous amounts of armour and weaponry to compensate. They're very jumpy, because they can hear off in the distance...
  • A tyrannosaurus rex. It used to be a dragon. Now it's very stupid, and very angry.

Sunday, 17 July 2011

[To Coin a World] A Brief History of the Grand Reman League

The Fall of the Reman Empire

Reme at its height, 1559AUC

A thousand years ago, the known world, from Aratha to Soleille to Zwuyala, was ruled from the great city of Reme. From humble beginning as a city founded by twin orphans, Reme grew to become the largest city on the coin, its streets thronging with the press of a million citizens. Its legions and tribunes enforced a long era of peace and prosperity. Elven princes paid tribute to the Reman emperors, the first human rulers to be acknowledged on a more-or-less equal basis, and fought together with them in the War of the Lunar Frog and other great conflicts against evil. It seemed that, within the reach of Reme, the Coin's centennial cycle of great kingdoms rising only to be smashed by barbarians and black-hearted sorcerers had come to an end.

It was instead perhaps an interregnum. As peace reigned across Spindlewick, the Reman elites grew decadent and perverse, delving into the pursuit of obscene luxury. Taxes raised from the provinces that once paid the salary of the legionnaires now went straight to the banquet tables of senators and patricians. Border forts crumbled, the provinces went undefended, and the famous Reman roads fell into disrepair. Over the years, the Palace of the Ceasars was given over to a series of terrible Emperors, who alternated between mad, bad, and merely extremely corrupt. In 1889AUC, the Imperial family gave up on the whole game and decided to sell the entire Empire at open auction to the highest bidder.

This turned out to be not a very good idea.

The Not Very Light Ages


It was a bit shit all around, to be honest

In the chaos following the Leveraged Sell-Out, the remnants of the Empire collapsed as waves of barbarian invaders swarmed across the frontiers. Amongst them were the Bellagoths, a clan of female vampire-worshippers who would go on to establish the Republic of Orzovia, and the Ostremos, whose chieftain famously stopped at the gates of ruined Reme itself and declared it wasn't worth the effort of conquering. The elves retreated into their forests, the dwarves into their mountain halls. Spindlewick was plunged into an age of terror, decay, and barbarity.

In most of the former empire, this lead to several hundred years of petty kings, bandit chieftain, feudal squabbles, and general abuse of the peasantry. One remote province of the Empire, Cisrhania, was particularly devastated after the fall. As the Reman rule over the monstrous tribes of the Worse Lands collapsed, the dark sorcerer Morevac the Merciless gathered them together into an immense horde. In 1939AUC, his dark forces surged across the Rhâne river, and set the province alight from end to end. From his black tower of Rhâner Khal, Morevac consolidated his rule, condemning the province to oppression and darkness.

And thus it was, for more than five hundred years; enough time for the people of Spindlewick to forget the glories of the Reman Empire, and become accustomed to poverty, deprivation, and a general lack of joy. It would only be in the late 2400s, when a humble merchant from the tiny village of Waldorf-on-the-Rhâne fought off a tribe of goblin bandits in the Disenchanted Forest. Examining the corpses, the merchant, Astrid Kratzburg, was startled to discover that the straggly goblin bandits carried an immense amount of Reman jewelry, much marked with the paisley wreath of the Ceasars. When she followed the trail back to their makeshift camp, she was startled to discover that the original bearer bond granting dominion over the Reman Empire had been held within the hands of goblin bandits for the past three hundred years.

The Merchant Empress Rises

Astrid von Kratzburg, first Kaiserina of the Reunited Imperium

The young merchant had been a minor participant for some time in the underground resistance to Morevac's rule, and with this document, she saw the key to defeating him. With perhaps dubious legal grounding, but the best of intentions, she declared herself Empress of the Reman Empire, and set to gathering together a base of support. Her allies within the Cisrhanian underground were easy to convince; with the sale of much of the Reman crown jewels, she was even able to hire a reasonable number of mercenaries. A small army began to gather under her auspices on the outskirts of the Disenchanted Forest, but it would never be enough to defeat Morevac with his sorcerous supremacy and his monstrous allies. For that, she would need allies.

A plan was hatched. Years as a only somewhat honest merchant had given Astrid a keen eye for the credulous, and when Prince Relathio of the Dawnwind Elves came to her attention, she was ready for him. Relathio was a fine specimen of Elvish nobility; graceful, gallant, and about as gullible as a guppy. Using her newfound imperiousness, she convinced Relathio of the existence of an ancient treaty between the Reman Emperors and the Dawnwind Elves, promising martial assistance in times of need. Relathio and the Dawnwind Elves, who had in any case not particularly noticed the fall of the Reman Empire in the first place, gracefully acceded to assist.

With the support of the Dawnwind Elves guaranteed, nearby baronies flocked quickly to Astrid's banner. Haggling over the price of salted eels and spoiled eggs had given the new Empress better training in diplomacy than most noble academies, and she easily won the petty barons to her side with promises of autonomy within a new Imperial League. Even the burghers of Pyresburg were won to her side with trading concessions and fiery oratory. With her hard-won allies, the Empress was ready to free Cisrhania from the rule of Morevac.

A bickering collection of mercenaries, elven nobles, and petty militia would have been no match for the orcs, ogres, goblins, and monsters that made up Morevac's guards, let alone his mystic power. However, a Reman legion, led personally into battle by its Empress, turned out to be more than a match for the Shadow Over Cisrhania. In pitched battle upon the grassy fields before Waldorf-on-the-Rhâne, the League's forces shattered the armies of Morevac. Auxiliaries stormed his fortress of Rhâner Khal, freeing his tormented captives and destroying his obscene experiments. As he fled Cisrhania for Orghosh Pass and the Blackstone Mountains, Morevac himself was hunted down and captured by elven windrunners.

As Morevac hung from his noose in Waldorf's town square, Astrid Kratzburg, proclaimed the rebirth of the glorious Reman Empire; or to be more accurate, the birth of a new Imperium, more league than empire, more Cisrhanian than Reman, built not to service the needs of a single city but to protect the freedom of the many. And Waldorf-on-the-Rhâne, her home, the village held so long under the shadow of sorcerous rule, would be its new capital.

An Imperial Renaissance

The Rhânebridge at Waldorf

Under the rule of Empress Astrid, Waldorf would grow from a tiny thorp to a bustling burg, and her reborn Imperium would expand at a similar pace. Astrid established a framework that made it simple for baronies and petty kingdoms to join the league, without sacrificing any of their power. Kingdoms would become grand duchies within the league, with the right to send Electors to the Imperial College in Waldorf and choose the new Kaiser upon the death of the old. In return, they would gain trade concessions, open their borders to the elves, and membership in a pact of mutual protection. It was an appealing recipe, and it brought kingdoms into the new empire like seagulls to a picnic.

A new age of prosperity dawned in central Spindlewick. Merchants and pilgrims could freely travel the breadth of the Empire without concern for borders and tariffs. The elven forests were opened once more, and the dwarven holds reestablished their trade missions missions in the lowlands. Imperial levies held the dark tribes of the Worse Lands at bay, and even the raiders and pirates of the Friendly Sea kept to their hidden ports. A brief period of uncertainty reigned upon the death of Empress Astrid, but the confirmation as Kaiser of her son, Ulrich Remulus von Kratzburg, stilled any movements of discontent.

Ulrich proved just as capable a leader as his mother. In his reign, the wizarding academy of Phagemorts would be established to give the Imperium a sound source of sorcerous talent, and the first of many wars against against the Kingdom of Soleille would be fought and won. Later successors would establish a network of Imperial roads and canals, extend the reach of the Reman league to colonies in Zwuyala, Yonda, and further afield, and fight glorious wars against the enemies of the Grand Reman League.

Modernity and the Grand Reman League

A street-level view of modern Waldorf

Four hundred years after the death of the Empress Astrid, the empire she founded has lost none of its diversity and vibrancy, but perhaps it has lost most of the unity it once had. According to a commonly held saying, the Grand Reman League "is neither particularly grand, nor does it include the city of Reme within its borders, and is only a league in the sense of a grudgeball league, in that it is an excuse for its members to dress up in funny colours and beat the stuffing out of one another".

Its last real exhibition of unity was during the war against Soleille a hundred years ago, fought over the absorption of the crescent city of Languille as an Imperial electorate. The only wars that have been fought lately have been between duchies, not beyond the Empire's borders, and the current Emperor, Otto Herbert Kratzburg Franz von Sumpfkastell, also known as Otto the Useless, owes his election as much to the mutual hatred of the other candidates as it does to his delicate political marriage. Within the borders of the league, bandit chieftains and goblin tribes are becoming bolder than even before, attacking larger caravans and even small villages and baronies.

Still, the Grand Reman League is still the dynamic heart of Spindlewick; its workshops export manufactured goods to the entire continent, its finest sorcerers could match spells with any the Coin have to offer, its trading companies reach across oceans, and its distant colonies still pay heed and tribute to the motherland. As the Coin flips into a new age, it remains to be seen whether the future lies with the Ceasars of Waldorf, but it is almost certain that the pieces that make up the Reman League have important parts to play.