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May 13, 2013

Give me a rifle, one round, and point me at Berlin!

Thanks for teaching us more about pop culture trivia's actual amazing background!


Dec 20, 2017


Welcome back to Scenic Dunnsmouth. I’ve been working on Unknown Armies stuff and putting this writeup off, because it was more work than I anticipated. Let's get back into it.

The last run of our randomly generated village was a mixed bag, with a few gems, some serious duds, and a lot of stuff that was just okay. This time I’ll try hand picking the results from the generation tables, to see if we can come up with something better across the board. I’ll try to get a spread of all four families from the card deck and a more interesting placement for Magda and Ivanovik. Oh and last time we cleared the deck of all the weird spider pregnancies, so we won’t encounter any more of those.

We’re rolling 12 houses instead of 10, and hand picking 3 households from each family to ensure an even spread. We’re also placing 4 unique locations instead of 2, and deliberately placing Ivanovik and Magda at unique locations to get some special interactions and descriptive text.

The DM Facing Map

The Player Facing Map

I didn’t draw it on the DM facing map because I forgot, but I dropped the original spider in the Old Fort at the bottom right.

Once again, we’ll go left to right in rows. Remember that houses with a little spider on them in the DM facing map are infected by the spider cult.

No illustration for this one. It’s the abandoned manor of a deceased explorer, who filled his three story brick home with artifacts from across the world. The text assumes a historical fantasy type setting and describes the various artifacts he got as gifts from African kings and Chinese khans and so on. There’s some serious lucre here, depending on the die results. Lots of small potatoes treasures like jeweled swords and various furniture. But if the total of the dice used to gen the swamp was “even and greater than 65” then an apparently worthless painting is actually a lost original worth 45,000 silver - but only if the player characters have the artistic knowledge to recognize its provenance. There are a lot of these “if the dice are X” or “if the cards are X” interactions that either produce an interesting result or uninteresting result, so just ignore the uninteresting result and choose the more fun outcome.

There are a bunch of taxidermied animals, including both a dead polar bear and the stuffed corpse of the explorer himself. If the players pour him a drink from one of his fine bottles of scotch, his spirit blesses them with the Bless spell for as long as they’re in the swamp. The text says Elves can’t benefit from the bonus, and I don’t know if that’s some setting element or if the explorer was just racist. If you defile his body or waste the scotch, he curses you instead, inflicting numeric penalties to your die rolls.

I dropped Ivanovik in the mansion - which violated the worldgen rule that he’s supposed to be as far from the time cube as possible, but I liked some of the flavor details for the entry. Ivanovik sleeps in the master bedroom and has a couple hounds with him. He moved the explorer’s corpse to the dining room and poured him a drink, along with a plate of fresh cut human steak. That means Ivanovik gets the benefit of the explorer’s blessing. Oh and the doors in the mansion are all trapped with buckets of “farmer’s blight” on top of the doors. Get doused with the stuff and you die in D6 rounds on a failed Save vs Poison. I don’t know what “farmer’s blight” is or why it kills humans. The trap is kind of bullshit, but Ivanovik living in the house does explain why none of the starving hillbillies have bothered to loot the abandoned mansion filled with treasure and liquor.

The first of our three Samsons

Bobby lives alone in a grove of dead trees. He read the writing on the time cube and now suffers the same effects as a player character who does so - namely an inability to sense the passage of time, leading to him frequently forgetting to eat. He wrote a big long “manifesto” about his experience with the cube, explaining how consensus knowledge of reality fails to account for the new paradigm suggested by the cube’s doctrine. That’ll never catch on. Reading the manifesto has the same effect as reading the writing on the cube.


Big Al is a mean 18 STR son of a bitch. He’s got nothing worth stealing in his house, but will try and pimp his two daughters to the visiting player characters - even if the household is infected and one of them has a spider head. The reason I included this instead of throwing it out is, if you kill him you can recruit the daughters to go adventuring with you as hirelings/backup PCs, including the spider headed one.

This rear end in a top hat kind of torpedoes my assumption that the spider cult is dedicated to protecting its secret from outsiders. He’s willing to blow the whole thing wide open for a few silver pieces.


Klaudia is Uncle Ivanovik’s Sister, maybe we should call her Aunt Klaudia? She’s also a badass, with a fighting knife and a crossbow with poison bolts. There’s some backstory here about Ivanovik that otherwise wouldn’t show up if she wasn’t in the village. She invited him to come back to town because she wants to restore the old Van Kaus religion (detailed in the previous post, either the sun cult or the nature cult) and needs some muscle. Both to purge heretics within her own family and enforce the cult’s will on everyone else. As a reminder, this is a separate cult from the spider people. The text says that Ivanovik is not necessarily interested in restoring the cult, and may just continue to do his own thing killing and eating people.

Klaudia has a chance to spawn with a gold locket buried under her house, if another queen was drawn during village generation. Again, there’s no reason not to include it, other than to make the house slightly less interesting to explore.

This location has a house-boat moored by an ancient obelisk, covered in moss and runes. Inside the house boat is a Level 2 elf, clad in ivory plate armor and armed with a two handed mace and some defensive spells. She’s here to kill anyone infected by the spider cult. It might be that the cult is a genuine threat, or she might just be racist. Either way, I appreciate an NPC that has motivations related to one of the central hooks of the village. She could encourage the player characters to fight the spider people and even join them in battle, or attack player characters who seem too chummy with the spiders.

The house boat has some trinkets worth a few silver pieces, and bottles of elven meal replacement shake that have a 1% chance of turning you into an elf when you drink them.

The menhir the house boat is moored to has runes on it that let you summon a dimetrodon from the ancient past. It’s always the same specific dimetrodon, so if someone else casts the spell while you have it summoned, it gets teleported to them instead. It respawns back in the past if it dies, though. You get a save vs Magic to control it, otherwise it wanders off and does dimetrodon things.

There’s no picture of the elf, but there’s a picture of the dimetrodon.

I included this one because remembered the summon dimetrodon spell being cool, but on re-reading it for this review I noticed a detail that I missed back in the primordial mists of… 2015, I think. I promised that this run would only be the actually good entries, but I’m including this one because reading it lowered my opinion of this module. Enough that it would be disingenuous not to share. To be honest, I wasn’t that bothered by the weird spider pregnancies leading up to this point. But I think everyone will agree that this next bit goes too far: If Uncle Ivanovik spawned at the stone circle, the elf is beaten, naked, and missing her arm. Ivanovik chopped it off, and is carving the bone inside into a spiked dildo.



Dunc Samson, his wife Amy, and their four children are hog farmers. They’ve got a cabin, pens, a smokehouse and a slaughterhouse built on an old earthen mound. They eat pigs, gull eggs and bullfrogs, and don’t have any wealth to their name besides the pigs - who are probably more economically valuable than the treasure held by the average Dunnsmouth family. This family is infected in our build of the village, so one of the kids has poison fangs, and another has the ability to spin silk ropes.

I included this because, if the right combination of cards are drawn during village-gen, the mound is secretly a burial mound filled with bog bodies and treasure. Twelve mummies, and a sarcophagus containing a thirteenth: the legendary warrior Fir Mac Nolg, buried with a bunch of treasure and the magic axe “kinslayer”. The axe does double damage to Celts (which the book defines as anyone Irish, Scottish or Welsh), but anyone killed by it comes back as an intelligent undead, intent on revenge. If the treasure is burgled in the wrong order (removing the grave goods from the tomb before taking the axe) then Fir Mac Nolg’s skeleton rises from the sarcophagus and attacks the players. He fights as a Level 4 fighter, but only has 4 HP due to being an ancient skeleton.

No word on why Dunc and his family haven’t interacted with the tomb on their property. The text doesn’t imply it’s concealed or anything, just partially flooded. Maybe Fir Mac Nolg and his boys were the ancestors of the Samson clan. Either way, this is another case where you should just throw the “if-then” rules in the trash and spawn the bog barrow regardless of what cards you drew.


Erik lives alone in an abandoned ship washed up in the swamp. He’s rehabbed it and built a pottery kiln inside, fired by peat. He looks super young but is chronologically the oldest man in the swamp - he found the time cube and got stuck in the extreme time dilation field. He can lead players to the time cube in exchange for 400 silver pieces.

He’s infected in our swamp, but he doesn’t get any special powers from that.


Mace is the self appointed sheriff of the town, but spends most of his time in the mountains outside it. This has aged him relative to the rest of the town, due to the cube’s time dilation effect lessening with distance. He’s a level 1 fighter with decent stats and a full loadout of weapons and armor, which he uses to hunt bandits and “dark men” in the mountains. Dark men is a term of his own invention, and he refuses to explain what it means if questioned. The text implies it might be leftover cultists from the Van Kaus’ old religion, or Mace might just be paranoid and racist. Either way, he follows the players around town, observing them stealthily. If the adventurers kill anyone, he raises an angry mob of townsfolk to chase them down and hang them.

His house is full of skulls taken from people he killed in the mountains, cleaned and mounted over his mantlepiece. He’s also got money and jewelry recovered from same, value in silver pieces equal to the die result of his house multiplied by the dice total of the village - in our case, 485 silver pieces.

If he was infected, he’d have a secret family of spider bastards in the mountains. Depending on the results you draw, you can generate a lot of these points of interest outside the village, in the mountains or on the coast. You almost need a larger area map for all these places outside the village, especially if you want to incorporate the old cult site from the Van Kaus’ “secret shame” that we went over last update.


Adolph and his wife Sheila live in a leaky wooden house with their one daughter Kaylee. Sheila constantly belittles Adolph for the poor quality of the rough pinewood furniture he makes for the house. Adolph replies that his wife is incapable of appreciating good furniture, and is therefore unworthy of any improvements he might make to his craft. This argument goes on for “as long as the player characters spy on them”. Aside from this, the house has only a few copper pieces and some sickly goats.

Why did I pick this one, when I promised only interesting results? Well, this family is infected. That means that Kaylee has six arms, and wants to be a mercenary when she grows up. She’s already got the stats of a Level 1 Fighter, but gets six attacks per round, one with each arm. This makes her incredibly dangerous in a hand to hand fight, and an obvious pick for a hireling or backup player character.


This is the local tavern. It’s a crude structure with wicker doors and rough furniture, set on a small hill in seven foot deep water, meaning it’s only reachable by boat. The text says the villagers only gather here on special occasions, but I’d go the other direction and just make it a regular bar with a chance of someone from each family being there when the players visit, plus some rumors and discussion topics they can pick up from the villagers. That way they can get a feel for the village and its inhabitants, instead of just wandering aimlessly from location to location.

At least, that’s what I’d do if I hadn’t spawned Magda here. She’s moved in and brought a pet jaguar with her, which now sleeps on a heap of cushions atop one of the tables. The beast spends most of its time sleeping, but attacks the characters if they try to sneak into the bar while Magda is asleep.

If Ivanovik spawned here, he’d have hounds and deathtraps and cannibalism all set up, just like at the explorer’s mansion. If the big spider spawned here, there would be bartenders and townsfolk sitting around drinking, and they’d try to get the players hammered (possibly inserting sedatives into their drinks) before letting the spider bite them with its mind control venom.


Noah and his wife Sarah have been married for 60 years, and have long stopped talking to each other in favor of doing stereotypical old people stuff in their log cabin, like making handicrafts from string or fishing off the porch. They’ve got two adult children with 16 STR and stats as first level fighters, who live in another cabin on a nearby hill. And, because they’re infected in our village, they’ve got a third son living in the basement with the same stats, but the face of a spider.

There’s nothing else going on with the Duncasters. They’ve got a few silver pieces, but I mainly included them to round out the cult’s muscle with a few class leveled guys.


Mordechai lives alone in a wooden shack, and survives by puttering around in his boat, collecting eggs from the nests of sea birds. He’ll happily act as a boatman for the player characters and give them a tour of the village, in exchange for at least two silver pieces, or more if he can shake the player characters down.

In our town, he’s infected. That means he’ll try to intercept the adventurers on their way into town, offering the same tour. Difference is, he lures them into a cult ambush instead. This makes the cult a little more active in going after the players. But it also front-loads the town’s big secret, starting a full-town brawl before the characters have even met most of the villagers or explored the points of interest. It could be good if you time it right, letting the players get to know the villagers and visit a few interesting areas before the ambush.


Samuel Dunlop lives in a three bedroom brick house, filled with ankle deep water and muck. He lives in the attic with his sister Rebecca, who faked her own death so they could carry on an incestuous relationship together.

That’s not why Samuel made it into our village, though. He squeezed his way in because, if you draw a straight flush, the swamp outside his house is full of buried treasure. We’re going to ignore the if-then and just spawn the treasure, which Samuel knows is buried there and will eventually dig up within two weeks of the player characters arriving. The total haul is 61,000 silver pieces in Viking and Roman grave goods, plus a magic helmet of an ancient viking warrior that gives the wearer accelerated HP regen, at the cost of ageing them at supernatural speed.

We dealt with the church in our first iteration village, and nothing has really changed this time.


Millard, his wife Shelly, their four teenage sons, their dog Scipio, and their day laborer Barry Samson all live in the same handsome dark blue colonial house, nestled in a grove of trees on some dry ground above the water table. They have a lot of nice stuff but are poor in cash, Millard is down to 15 silver pieces and doesn’t know how to tell his wife that he’s going to have to let the housekeeper go soon. They’ve got a pair of rapiers, a halberd, and a full suit of plate armor in the house, all of which would have to be cleaned up and rehabbed before they could be used in combat. Even without that, they’ve got plenty of firepower - all four sons have hunting bows, which they use on trips with their dad into the swamp. Between the four sons and their bows, their dad joining in, and the dog which counts as a war hound, the Millard family could output some serious damage in a fight.

Barry Samson knows where the time cube is and will sell the information for 50 silver pieces, or the players can hit him and he’ll give it up for free.


Nebuchadnezzar is a swamp hobo. He has little to his name except a few beat up hand weapons and a bunch of hallucinogenic mushrooms, which he will happily share with the players. If he was infected he’d have a spider face, and run away to stop the players from seeing it. But in our village, he’s not, so he’s just a friendly vagrant.


This old fort used to be home to twenty soldiers, but is now occupied by a single 60 year old man, the last survivor of the original garrison. Most of the wooden palisade around the fort has collapsed, but the watchtower and a couple of the structures still stand. The fort’s pay chest is buried under the barracks. It holds 4,000 silver pieces, but the old guy will never tell anyone where it’s hidden. The text says he survives off the charity of the local community, so presumably he’s not automatically hostile to visitors.

Except, we spawned the original spider in the fort. So to all that, we add a single cultist in the watchtower armed with a sling, and a secret chamber beneath the barracks where the spider is holed up with another cultist who acts as a priest. No word on whether the dude is a cleric with class levels, or just another 1 HD mope. The old soldier is part of the cult and will fight in defense of the spider.

I think we did a little better than last time, with a couple unfortunate exceptions. Hand-picking the entries is more work, since you have to read everything beforehand and choose which ones you like, rather than just trusting the dice to generate something good. The special dice and card conditions continually ask you to choose between a boring option and an interesting option.

While writing this post I had an epiphany about how you’re supposed to use this book. The majority of the writeups for the households go into detail about all the money and treasure hidden in each house. Besides this, most of them don’t have a ton of playable detail, such as reasons for the players to interact with their inhabitants. One of the suggested plot hooks to make the players interested in exploring the swamp is collecting tithes for the local religious authority. I think the idea (not spelled out in the module text) is to go one step beyond that: rather than just picking up the stockpiled wealth from the church, the players are meant to go door to door at these houses, collecting “back taxes” from the inhabitants. They flash their badges, invite themselves in, and steal anything that’s not nailed down. This provokes an obvious counter reaction from the pissed off villagers whose life savings the revenuers are carrying off, and also increases the chance that the player characters will stumble onto one of these mutant spider children that a lot of these houses have hidden in their cellars - which then prompts the cult to fight back and protect their secret.

I think this is a great premise if it’s explicitly communicated to the players beforehand. Most RPG players are happy to take on villainous roles if they’re given appropriate priming and context, but are not so happy to have it imposed on them without warning. My understanding of medieval/early modern tax collection is, private tax collectors would sometimes pay the government a flat fee in lieu of remitting the taxes collected, which then gave them the legal authority to take whatever the citizens owed and keep it for themselves. This gives the characters a reason to continue exploring the village and robbing the villagers even when it’s an obvious bad idea - they’ve got to collect a certain amount of money just to break even.

However it also reduces the utility of the module in an established campaign, since the existing player characters might not be interested in kicking doors for the fantasy IRS. I think most Lamentations modules are written as oneshots anyway, and the rules for treasure and inserting them into an existing campaign are included out of a sense of obligation.

That’s it for now. Next post will be miscellany and a wrapup of the whole book.

Feb 16, 2007

Scenic Dunnsmouth would definitely benefit from all of those if/then conditions being a choice between one of two interesting options rather than all or nothing. It does seem like a good set of bones to build your own site/adventure generation tool off of, though.

Oct 30, 2011

Spewing insults, pissing off all your neighbors, betraying your allies, backing out of treaties and accords, and generally screwing over the global environment?

Halloween Jack posted:

Sorcerers Drain life force by touch, and Drain is the only Edge they can use. They don’t need to Drain to live, but it’s a practical necessity because magic costs SP. Sorcerers can cast Ritual Magic like witches, and they can also use Street Magic, a type of instant spell that can be cast on the fly, much like D&D sorcerers.

In short: Nightlife imagines D&D Magic-Users as psychic vampires.

I think I'll name my wizard... Colin.

But, it occurs to me, I forget if it's come up before. Does this mean that if, say, Wizzardo the Sorcerer needs to do a big save-the-day spell, one of the other party members can let him Drain them for the requisite SP to cast the big spell? Because that at least feels like it opens up some cool scene potential.

The Lone Badger
Sep 24, 2007

mellonbread posted:

. Oh and the doors in the mansion are all trapped with buckets of “farmer’s blight” on top of the doors. Get doused with the stuff and you die in D6 rounds on a failed Save vs Poison. I don’t know what “farmer’s blight” is or why it kills humans.

Paraquat, at a guess.

Apr 6, 2011

Tomorrow, doom!
But now, tea.

mellonbread posted:

That’s it for now. Next post will be miscellany and a wrapup of the whole book.

I have seen that fantasy tax collection concept used before in this kind of post-Roman "Saxonpunk" setting. Several times, in fact. It must come to mind quickly as a decent reason for a band of murderhobos to hang out together - they're not outright thieves, they can justify having some decent equipment, they have some form of mission and a legitimate local authority who they might be able to use to pull rank. It also gives them a small bit of leverage when facing the cult (armed men may come looking for them if they don't report back).

It's not a bad premise. A good intro to the spider cult might also be to have the PCs as the backup, sent to investigate a missing tax or tithe-collector who is now suddenly marrying into the village and really keen on spiders (and perhaps oddly de-aged).

Are you going to tell us what the joke entries were for the Jokers and any ad cards?

Jul 26, 2012

*rathian noises*

mellonbread posted:

But I think everyone will agree that this next bit goes too far:

I'll be honest, this (and the weird spider pregnancies, and the way that mutations seem to disproportionately affect women even when they're beneficial) isn't doing much to change my impression of bone-deep misogyny in this product. :shrug:

Dec 26, 2012

Which is a real pity, because Dimetrodons deserve better.

Jul 26, 2012

*rathian noises*

I have no idea what the gently caress is going on there but I do love me a dimetrodon.

Humbug Scoolbus
Apr 25, 2008

The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers, stern and wild ones, and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.

Clapping Larry

PurpleXVI posted:

I think I'll name my wizard... Colin.

But, it occurs to me, I forget if it's come up before. Does this mean that if, say, Wizzardo the Sorcerer needs to do a big save-the-day spell, one of the other party members can let him Drain them for the requisite SP to cast the big spell? Because that at least feels like it opens up some cool scene potential.

Yes. You absolutely can do that and it was done in the campaign I ran.

Halloween Jack
Sep 11, 2003

Let your word be "Yes, Yes" or "No, No"; anything more than this comes from the evil one.

Kin Draining other Kin brings the Drug Effects Table into play, which is super nasty. Nancy Sez Say No To Drugs!

Did you do anything to get around it, Humbug, or just ignore it? (Even unmodified, I can see risking it if the wizard really needs some SP to cast that big spell.)

Humbug Scoolbus
Apr 25, 2008

The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers, stern and wild ones, and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.

Clapping Larry

Halloween Jack posted:

Kin Draining other Kin brings the Drug Effects Table into play, which is super nasty. Nancy Sez Say No To Drugs!

Did you do anything to get around it, Humbug, or just ignore it? (Even unmodified, I can see risking it if the wizard really needs some SP to cast that big spell.)

Ignored it, because the downsides to the Kin getting drained are bad enough.

Oct 23, 2013

Privateers and Gentlemen, Part Two

So, now that we know our character is a white British man, let's roll to see what stratum of white British man he is by rolling for social level. Specifically, we're rolling to see what our father is, which is, needless to say, the prime determinant as to what parties we get invited to in 18th century British high society.

This is the European chart, incidentally - there's a separate one for Americans.

I roll a 91, meaning our seaman is nobility, if only by a hair. Next up: are we a bastard?

Fun fact: The average European naval officer has a 15% chance of being born out of wedlock, while their American counterparts have only a 6% chance!

I roll a 33, so even with the +25 for being the spawn of a noble, we're still a legitimate child.

Now we have to roll for our position in the family. We roll a 28, meaning we're the second son - not daddy's favorite.

Speaking of daddy, now we have to roll to see if the old bastard is still alive. There's a 30% chance that he's shuffled off this mortal and I roll a 16, so, uh, FAAAAATHHHHHHHHERRRRRRRR! Incidentally, if he wasn't already dead, there's a flat 10% chance that he'll die every year that passes in the game thereafter.

Now! Even though papa is dead as a doornail, his connections could still help us - we have to roll to see if our father served in the Navy. I get a 42, so he didn't. There's an additional 10% chance that a brother is serving, but I biff that too with an 84. Having relatives helps you gain Notice, which is the game's system for having the favor of your superiors and whatnot. If we did have relatives in the service, there's a yearly flat chance of them getting promoted, dying, or retiring in a father's case (10%/10%/20%).

With the parental dragon dead, it's time for the kids to divvy up the loot.

The star means the eldest son inherits an estate in the country and house in an appropriate city. The eldest son also gets 150% of the money listed in both allowance and patrimony - the bastard. Actual bastards still get 50% of the listed money, by the way.

If our father was alive, we'd get a yearly allowance on our birthday ("players may pick their own birthdays and birth-years, or roll dice for them"). With his death, though, we get a single lump sum - the patrimony - and are then told to gently caress off forever. The game doesn't specify how to figure out when our father died, so I'll assume he died before we started receiving an allowance and we just get the patrimony. I roll an 18, so unfortunately, our noble is one of the ones who is only rich in spirit. We get 1000 pounds and will learn what we can spend it on shortly.

Onto section 1.3B - names and forms of address. There's a whole quarter page on the latter (i.e. a marquess is "Most Honorable" and all that), that amusingly ends with the note that none of it applies in the Navy. Everyone above you in a uniform is just a "sir" unless you're being a huge boot-licker or the officer is exceptionally snobby. The only relevant part to us is that knightships aren't hereditary, so we don't get the knightly sir. Now we just need an appropriately British name.

That'll do.

Now that I can finally stop referring to Smitty as "seaman", it's time to roll up his lifepaths!


No, really. There aren't any actual choices to be made, but this game does have you roll a bunch to see what happens in your naval career prior to play starting. The assumption is that players start the game as lieutenants, so let's roll our way through our career as a midshipman. First we need to roll to see what age we were when we entered the Navy, which is 20-1d6. I get a 5, so Vivian joined at the age of 15. Age 19 is the minimum to try to earn promotion to Lieutenant, so he has at least 4 years to get through before he's a viable PC. There's a list of stuff to do each year, so let's go in order:

...I rolled a 1. :ohdear: So we're going to have to skip ahead a bit. There's not a section called "Wound Procedure", so I have to make a couple of assumptions about this process - I'll take it as a flat d6 damage (no armor or anything) to a random hit location (yes, this game has hit locations). I roll a 20, which means it hit Vivian's head, and then a 6 for max damage (a punch is 1d3 and a pistol is 1d8, for comparison). Consulting the Damage Points (your HP) chart, Vivian has the maximum possible for being a swole giant (Mass 16, +1 for Str 17) - unfortunately, the maximum DP in your head is still only 5.

Torso 1 is the part with your vital organs and Torso 2 is the less essential bits, if you're curious.

All is not lost, however, as you only instantly die if your DP is reduced to -2 or less. Vivian has such a thick skull that he's merely at -1, which is just incapacitated, so he survives to experience the tender mercies of 18th century naval medicine. We have to roll to see what kind of wound he's received, from "Light" to "Near-Fatal", which determines how hard it is to recover from. I get a very not-nice 69, which means Vivian suffered a Serious Wound. Even more rolling has to be done to see how it progresses - I get a 24, which means that d6 (3) days later, it progresses to Near-Fatal. Another d100 roll comes up 60, and...

...oops. Three days after being stabbed in the head with a shortsword (the only weapon that does d6 damage), a 15-year-old Vivian Smith-Smythe Smith takes a turn for the worse, then two days later, dies. Tear up his character sheet and start over. :xcom:

Name: Vivian Smith-Smythe Smith
Alive: Nope

STR 17, SA 14, MASS 16, CON 12, INT 10, DEX 13, INU 14, CHA 09
Gunnery 10, Ship Quality 10, General Seamanship 10
Strike 10, Shoot 0, Parry 5

SKILLS: Astronomy 10, Biology 1, Carriage Driving 13, Chemistry 1, Climb 17, Dance 13, First Aid 4, Forgery 4, General Knowledge 4, Geology 1, Haggle 10, Hide 11, History 10, Law 4, Literary Gent 10, Lockpick 4, Make Speech 12, Mapmaking 10, Mechanics 3, Move Quietly 13, Play Instrument 0, Pick Pocket 1, Ride 3, Shipwright 10, Sing 13, Swim 5, Weather Prediction 10, Write Own Language 10, Write Foreign Language (French) 15

Languages:	English, French 75
Handedness: 	Left
Social Level: 	91 - Knight
Family:		Legit. second son; Father deceased
Equipment:	1000 pounds
Next time: Privateering! Politics! Actually finishing character creation!

Jun 20, 2008

If you die in character creation, you die in real life.

Feb 13, 2012

We'll start,
like many good things,
with a bear.

I would have suggested Nigel Wentworth, myself.

But Upper Class Twit of the Year is a good pick for names, too.

Jun 14, 2015

slime time

Lord Carmichael Altham-Edevane

edit: lord is his first name

Oct 30, 2011

Spewing insults, pissing off all your neighbors, betraying your allies, backing out of treaties and accords, and generally screwing over the global environment?

So I realize it's a quite unlikely roll, but what's the asterisk for being a spawn of the King?

May 6, 2008

Spare batteries are pretty key.

Excellent, we couldn't have asked for a better first character.

Dec 6, 2016

The real question now is how many British noble boys will die for our example PC. I am absolutely riveted.

By popular demand
Jul 17, 2007


Another bright and upcoming member of the aristocracy dies in a stupid accident, nothing of worth is lost.

Let's feed some more to the grinder

May 14, 2017

What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee

Look, I'm going to just come out and say it. I love it when your character can just loving die in chargen. I know it's bad game design, I know it's annoying as gently caress after the gimmick wears off, but I just love 'You Die' lifepaths.

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder

Age of Sigmar: Disciples of Tzeentch
Wizard Cults

The Magisters are generally the most powerful of the mortal servants of Tzeentch, powerful spellcasters with nasty, vindictive natures. Each one contains a vast supply of Chaos energies, able to call on wyrdflame and mutating spells with ease. Frequently, they also bear heavy physical mutation - third eyes, bird features and extra limbs are all relatively common. They are also gifted with warpsteel blades and Tzeentch-touched runestaves, which they use to direct their Chaos magic. They usually try to avoid directly tapping it to avoid becoming Spawn.They are each extremely ambitious - Tzeentch has no use for those who do not have sky-high hopes and plans to achieve them, and the chance to become a true daemon leads many to their doom. Most Magisters prefer to stay away from battle when possible, but their magical might is often key to achieving their goals in a clutch situation.

Large cults may have multiple Magisters, often each claiming their own absurd title. Arrogance tends to come with the territory, as does infighting. The Magisters almost always hate each other and work constantly to undermine or manipulate one another. This is the only real way to advance in most Tzeentchian cults, and the Change God approves of chicanery and treachery anyway. Those who prefer to fight more openly or who live in Chaos-controlled areas are less subtle and often prefer to fly into battle atop Discs. A mortal binding such a creature is never easy, though, and the overconfident are often torn apart due to poor preparation or because an underling tricked them into getting too close before the binding was complete. Those who manage it are much faster and deadlier in the field, though.

Fatemasters, meanwhile, are your standard Chaos Lord sworn onto a Tzeentchian cult, equal parts master fencer and controller of destiny. Some lead cults or covens, while others work as enforcers, protectors of Realmgates or prophets for their cults. Becoming a Fatemaster isn't a simple task even for a fully armored Chaos Lord, though. They must also be exceptionally cunning and quick-witted to earn Tzeentch's favor. They must be more than vicious fighters - they must be intelligent and skilled guerrillas, able to survive deep in enemy territory.

And, of course, they must survive the Nine Trials of Fate. This takes a lot of luck, a lot of intuition or both. To pass the trials, one must be able to react superhumanly fast to danger and spot treachery before it happens, and those who manage it repeatedly earn the rank of Fatemaster and the gift of a set of potent weapons - a fireglaive, a soulbound shield, a full suit of armor and a Disc to serve them. When the Fatemasters head to battle, they fight with extreme precision, dismembering their foes in the minimum of movements. Magic flows off of and around them like water off a duck. Far more importantly, however, they are able to bend luck and causality to their will. Arrows shot at them hit armor, not flesh. Blades swung by their allies slip past defenses by pure luck. Tzeentchian magic is empowered by the flux of fate in their presence. That is their real power.

Curselings are what you might call Tzeentchian middle management. They're easy to spot - a horrible homunculus lives in their torso and likes to laugh. These daemonic helpers guide them in their work, helping them seek the dark knowledge that they desire more than anything else. They are also called the Eyes of Tzeentch, and their gifts are hard to master. Each was once a simple sorcerer in their cult, seeking as much knowledge as they could get. However, they discovered dark secrets which took on physical form within their bodies, creating magical tumors that grew and expanded as they learned more. These tumors became the locus of possession for the daemons known as Tretchlets, which feed on their hosts and whisper advice to discover new secrets.

The cults deeply value the Curselings whenever they happen, though no one is totally sure what secrets cause the cursed tumors or what other circumstances are required for them to incubate. They are sometimes used as inquisitors - Tretchlets can sense lies and their hosts are often quite physically powerful. The daemons can taste secrets in the air and ask questions which inevitably draw out knowledge. They often prove excellent recruitment agents, too - trial by Curseling is an extremely good way to tell if someone's worthy of joining or advancing. They often hunger for combat, however, where they are equally useful. They are formidable fighters by Tzeentchian standards, and more importantly, they are able to steal spells from the minds of their foes and use them. They tend to find it extremely funny to kill someone with their own magic.

Kairic Acolytes are the main body of human cultists. They are also known as the Altered or the Chanters of Change, and all of them are trained in infiltration, because they survive primarily within the Free Cities as hidden cults. Most have made terrible sacrifices for knowledge and power. Their sacred chants are cold, chilling things that move with a halting rhythm and grating tone. These dissonant chants call forth balls of multi-colored light, which then transform into killing bolts that fly in large volleys at foes. Each Acolyte is an ambitious seeker of knowledge, recruited by the Arcanite cults specifically for their skill and drive, often over the course of years of testing. It is only those who truly commit themselves that get the chance to try the Kairic Test of Nine. The specific rituals vary by cult, but all of them end in the walk through warpflame.

Those who emerge from the fire unharmed become true Kairic Acolytes. They are taught magical chants that transform their bodies - it doesn't matter if they were tiny, old or weak before - their bodies warp and transform, becoming muscular and strong, and they pull a curseblade, shield and shearbeak mask from nothing. They can easily turn from their idealized form back to their true body with another word. It's not totally clear if these are simple illusion disguises or actual physical transformation per the book, but it doesn't especially matter. Their main purpose is the same - to move hidden among the masses until they go into battle, and to conceal their identities even from each other. I'm guessing they're physical, though, since, well, they get curseblade attacks, even if they're still pretty fragile compared to most armies.

Ogroid Thaumaturges are rare and powerful creatures, and few know much about them. They are deeply magical creatures, their skin itself marked by eldritch sigils from their studies. They are also immensely powerful, hulking creatures, though they maintain a sophisticated exterior most of the time. When wounded or angry, however, they fly into terrifying rages in which the many-colored fires of Tzeentch burst out of them, often centered on their large staves. They may maintain the mask of etiquette and may speak eloquently, but at heart they are deeply violent and prone to tearing people in half. Their strength is enough to smash through even sigmarite, and their intellect is extremely potent as well. They can call forth wyrdflame with ease, and Tzeentch loves them deeply. The Pyrofane Cult has heavily recruited the Thaumaturges, as they think their fiery powers are proof of holiness. Some even end up as cult leaders, often with massive Tzaangor flocks serving their will. Others work as bodyguards for the Gaunt Summoners.

Gaunt Summoners are, of course, the most potent and high-ranked mortals in Tzeentch's organizations. Each one of them is equally mortal and daemon, a master of magic who can singlehandedly change the tide of a skirmish. Fortunately, only nine of them exist, each one raised to their rank by Tzeentch himself. They are given a changestaff, a Disc servant and the key to one of the nine Silver Towers. Each Tower is a labyrinth of impossible complexity, made from realities folded in on themselves and turned into strange and deadly puzzles. The Summoners enjoy capturing travellers that pass near Chaos-tainted Realmgates, bringing them into the labyrinths of the Towers. The Summoners enjoy watching these people as they try to escape the monsters and traps. Rarely, one does manage to escape - and when they do, the Gaunt Summoners give them rewards and boons. They see it as fair, though it almost never happens anyway.

When the Summoners decide to help the Arcanites in battle, they are treated with the respect and awe usually reserved for the Lords of Change. They are able to summon daemons with a simple gesture and can turn the thoughts of their foes against them. They used to freely pursue their own goals, primarily the gaining of knowledge and power. Tzeentch allowed it because it was funny and often useful to his plans. However, when Archaon sought to control them, Tzeentch didn't stop him. He was intrigued, watching Archaon sacrifice so many lives to find the true names of the Summoners, and couldn't decide which side deserved his aid. The Summoners were his, to be sure, but he found Archaon impressive in his ability to refuse exclusive service and his claim to serve all Chaos gods equally. He eventually decided Archaon enslaving the Summoners would serve his ends eventually, and he provided subtle help to the man in his quest. The Summoners hate the arrangement but serve for now - though each one plots rebellion and intends to kill Archaon and claim his throne, once they figure out how to do it.

The Tzaangors have their own poo poo going on. They're rarely seen compared to normal gor-kin, their lairs hidden by illusions. Much of their time is spent waiting and watching for signs that their god wants them to do things. They rarely march in open conquest, but secret raids are pretty frequent. Some Tzaangor begin life as normal gor-kin, elevated (or corrupted, depending on how you look at it) by the Tzaangor shamans. Others are mutant humans abandoned in childhood and adopted by the Arcanites. Others are trueborn Tzaangors, born bird monsters. All, however, know they bear the touch of Tzeentch. They are far more intellectual than most gor-kin, whom they usually see as brutes or mere animals, and their minds are uniquely altered by Tzeentch's touch to be more attuned to magic. They are drawn to magical objects, hoarding them in their lairs, and can instinctively sense omens in the way dogs can smell prey.

The Tzaangors are also designed to be warriors for Tzeentch, and many of their cultural rituals are to prepare them for combat. Their greatest rite is the weapon-taking, in which they seize broken armor and weapons and transform them through ritual magic into arms and armor for their own forces. A warflock will be led in battle by a Twistbray champion, more skilled and experienced than the rest of the flock. They favor curved swords and axes, though their beaks and horns are nearly as deadly. They are able to draw power from the spells of nearby Arcanites, and the most favored bear the sigils of Tzeentch with them to battle. These absorb magical energy unleashed near them and eventually grow into massive Tzeentchian Herdstones, also called flux-cairns. They also have the power to fire off magical blasts if they've absorbed magic recently.

The greatest warriors among the warflocks are further blessed. These come in two varieties. The first are the Tzaangor Enlightened, proud wielders of spears made from change-metal. They have the power to sense the echoes of the past, especially hidden secrets. In combat, they use the secrets their visions reveal to them to distract foes and attack their morale by speaking them aloud, allowing everyone to hear the darkest and most hidden truths of their allies. The Enlightened really like to reveal secrets in battle, in fact, and will take time out to do it even if they don't need to. Sometimes they fight on foot, sometimes atop Discs of Tzeentch. They are deadly foes, because along with secrets, they can easily sense old wounds, weaknesses or hidden flaws in armor.

The other Tzaangor elites are the Skyfires. These always ride Discs of Tzeentch, flying high over the battlefield and firing off arrows guided by fate. Where the Enlightened sense the past, the Skyfire have the power to read potential futures in the wind...though unlike the Enlightened, they are unable to speak of what they see. Enlightened talk a lot, but Skyfires fight in total silence, firing off shot after shot without a word. They don't aim, per se, but rather use their future vision to sense where their arrows will land. They fire at where their foes will be, even if the foes don't realize it - they trip into the shot, they lunge forward at just the right time, and so on. Their arrows are magical and can easily blast through most armor or scales, too.

The leadership of the Tzaangors are the Tzaangor Shamans. They are the most powerful of Tzeentch's beastkin, gifted with potent magic, precognition and cunning minds. They tend to hate anyone that isn't a Tzaangor, but believe the problem can be solved - mostly by turning people into Tzaangors with magic. Tzaangor Shamans are born, not made. They come forth amidst dark omens - large numbers of mutant births, strange constellations in the sky, events of great magical power. Tzeentch gives the a Disc to herald their ascent, allowing them to literally look down on their kin. The warflocks believe them to be great heroes who hold the power of the greatest blessing - the Change-Gift, which mutates foes into the true people, the bird-folk. The mutagenic transformation is total - it warps mind and soul as much as it does body, allowing the newborn Tzaangor to easily rejoin battle alongside their new comrades, their past life wholly forgotten.

Equally important is the Shaman's gift of precognitive prophecy. The Tzaangors believe that when a Shaman enters a trance, their soul walks in the Realm of Chaos to receive commands from the Lords of Change. Certainly, when they emerge, they move with new purpose and often lead their flocks in sudden bursts of activity. Some change what cult they work with, move their flocks to new lands or begin some new mission. Others guide their flocks in new and terrible rites or raise new flux-cairns. It was from a trance-prophecy that the Tzaangors first learned to consume the tongues of dead enemies to steal their words and wisdom, and it is the Shamans who often lead hunts to capture beasts such as the Cockatrices or Mutalith Vortex Beasts and bind them with carved words of the Dark Tongue. They also are the ones who discovered how to use wizard blood to increase their own magical power. They aren't frail like human wizards - they're often quite vicious, diving in with their beaks and daggers as easily as they cast spells.

The End!

Next time, choose:
Chaos (Blades of Khorne)
Order (Stormcast Eternals 3e update)

Feb 4, 2012

Truly Cursed

The last two books are fittingly the first two armies for AoS.

We started with Stormcast so we should end with Stormcast. So I vote Khorne

Sep 6, 2019

Yes, Blades of Khorne.

Everyone fucked around with this message at 00:16 on Nov 10, 2021

Jun 3, 2016

Ban-thing the man-things.


Also I like that not only was that death, like, A Death, but you got to roll to see how bad of a death it was, and not only does it have a 75% chance of death, but the remaining 25% is that the wound gets worse

Jan 29, 2012

Really Madcats

TK_Nyarlathotep posted:


Also I like that not only was that death, like, A Death, but you got to roll to see how bad of a death it was, and not only does it have a 75% chance of death, but the remaining 25% is that the wound gets worse

I think that the last category is that it goes from Near Fatal back down to Serious.

Nov 20, 2007

That warm and fuzzy feeling.

Halloween Jack posted:

Magic is the first sourcebook for Nightlife, published in 1990.

No matter how hard I rage I am still just a cat that's a mage

Oct 10, 2005


I let myself get a month behind on this thread and I miss Ettin coming back (thanks for somehow convincing me to buy CthulhuTech years ago and start writing F&F reviews, senpai!) and also catch up after this review is finished:

Lemony posted:

Ninja Burger: The Role Playing Game
I'm not about to defend this RPG, it's worse than I remembered as well! HOWEVER, played in the best appropriate context of "it's 1am, at Waffle House, in the early 2000s, and the nerds you met at the anime club also like TTRPGs and want to play something like KAMB! but more meme-ey" was a blast. Most of it was yelling things in Engrish, referencing movies we'd just seen, and then switching to a more "serious" game of L5R (which is a whole other kettle of worms), TB as F as I can be to that game. It probably also would have been as much or more fun to play anything else, with that crew!


wdarkk posted:

Has the other BEER engine game, Kobolds Ate My Baby, been reviewed?
That was me! I did that!
Actually, I started catching back up to this thread because I finally got my hands on some other stuff I want to review, but that's for later.

Wapole Languray posted:

I started reading about this book in the morning, and I've had diarrhea all day. Coincidence? CLEARLY NOT.

AmiYumi fucked around with this message at 14:10 on Nov 11, 2021

Sep 6, 2019

AmiYumi posted:

I started reading about this book in the morning, and I've had diarrhea all day. Coincidence? CLEARLY NOT.

Of course it isn't. You are taking Zak's mental diarrhea into your mind. It obviously triggered a psychosomatic effect within your body.

May 13, 2013

Give me a rifle, one round, and point me at Berlin!

Law of attraction: alleged pants making GBS threads attracts alleged pants making GBS threads

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder

Age of Sigmar: Blades of Khorne

Khorne is the Blood God, the Lord of Rage, the Taker of Skulls. His domain is fury, slaughter and the endless desire to destroy. Under his command, thousands of civilizations have burned, and his servants spill blood in his name constantly. It is not enough. It can never be enough. Khorne's power is greatest among the Dark Brothers that make up the four great powers of Chaos. Every drop of blood spilled in battle feeds him, after all, and every war increases his might. Justice does not matter to him - only the act of killing and the flowing of blood. His followers depict him in many ways, but most commonly he is said to be a massive warrior, so tall that his body covers the stars, whose head is a snarling hound's. He is impossibly muscular and wears armor of interlocking brass plates, and his eyes glow with red fire. His fingers bear many brass rings, most of them bearing his rune, the jagged skull, while others bear the severed heads of gods he has slain. His voice is always a raging bellow, and the sound of it is said to set the air itself ablaze.

Khorne is almost always depicted seated atop a gigantic throne made of skulls. He bears a massive sword, known by many names - the Eater of Worlds and the Allslaughter are most common. It is said that a single swing can tear open reality itself, erase a city from existence or destroy an entire army. Khornates claim that every warrior is inherently a worshipper of Khorne, and that every kill made in anger is to his glory. The degree to which that is true is unclear, but certainly Khorne makes few demands of his followers - both mortals and daemons have only simple directives to follow: spill blood, take skulls. Always, and always more. Khornates do not build temples, for Khorne can only be properly worshipped on the battlefield. He is strongest when war rages, and so his servants seek to cause war whenever possible. Given no one else to fight, they will fight each other. Fortunately for everyone, their god does not join them often. It is only when he truly must that Khorne rises from the Skull Throne, and it is said that when he does, it is with an honor guard of mighty Bloodthirsters at his side. He intervenes directly more often than his three brothers, to be sure - he personally took part on the destruction of the Agloraxi, for example - but even so, it's quite rare, pretty much only ever to mark the changing of the tide in the endless war between the Chaos Gods.

What Khorne does not do personally, though, his armies certainly do. They are always eager to fight, willing to rush over their own dead to do it. Where they go, only death follows. In the Age of Chaos, they led the charge and brought endless destruction to mortal civilizations. While some of the foes of Chaos fell to magic or to treachery, it was war that brought the most low, and the Bloodbound of Khorne were the cause of much of it. The Bloodbound are those mortals who have not only dedicated their lives to Khorne but received some measure of reward from him for it. Many mortals serve Khorne through the glorification of battle, but most lack the skill or sheer brutality to receive his favor. Those who possess that favor receive hellforged arms and armor along with the impossible strength to wield them properly. Those who do not receive such gifts often end up targets for blood sacrifice.

Of course, the Bloodbound are not Khorne's only servants. They spill blood and take skulls in order to weaken the bonds of reality, allowing to split open and bring forth the Blood Legions, the daemonic armies of Khorne. Khornate daemons are drawn in by extreme bloodshed, which they seek to join in causing. Their purpose in existence is to kill without mercy or restraint, and they absolutely love doing it. Once summoned, they generally just start rampaging, attacking whoever they meet until they are finally sent back to the Realm of Chaos by death or by the call of Khorne. The Bloodbound often flock to them when they show up, serving them out of respect for their raw power, though those who are too sycophantic about it usually get killed by the daemons for not being properly bloodthirsty.

When the Blood Legions and Bloodbound work together, their work begins to corrupt the land itself. The sheer power of Khorne focuses in on them, transforming dirt into skull shapes and bone and calling up lifeless blood from the cracked earth. The world itself twists into nightmarish forms, reflecting the Realm of Chaos and unable to bring forth life. This is the ultimate goal of Khorne - to turn all of reality into an extension of his own domain, killing and conquering everything in a wave of eternal war. He cares for nothing else - beauty is meaningless to him, honor nonexistant. All that matters is violence, blood and skulls. His realm is a place of constant battle, a blasted wasteland where daemonic gangs wander and fight each other, staining the ground red with their own blood. Bones and ash cover everything, and the only real changes in landscape are the canyons torn open by especially violent combats or the clusters of small pits that make up the arenas of the Blood Legions, where champions seek to earn Khorne's favor by fighting each other, slaughtering mortal slaves or defeating corrupted monsters they have captured. Those who die in battle are brought back to life to fight once more, over and over, but those who are cowardly and flee are not resurrected.

The border of Khorne's nameless domain is surrounded by massive volcanoes which spew constant rivers of lava. Occasionally, they will erupt more violently and hurl brass skulls out for miles around, sometimes even sending these burning skulls into the Mortal Realms. Thousands of forges exist along the volcanic chain, harnessing the power of the burning mountains to produce daemon blades and blood-cursed armor for Khorne's warriors. Endless red clouds of smoke pour from the forges, mixing with the volcanic gas to turn the sky a dark, bloody mix of red and black. The mountains also tend to be home to the Juggernaut pens, where the metallic bulls butt heads and fight each other.

Towering over all of it is the Brass Citadel, the heart of Khorne's domain. Its walls are constantly coated in blood and viscera, topped with vicious spikes and lit by burning braziers. The walls themselves are jagged and sharp, covered in metal gallows from which hang the bodies of those who failed Khorne in the fighting pits. They are skinned and left bleeding, their blood flowing down the walls and collecting in a boiling-hot moat encircling the fortress. Inside the fort are the Fields of Damnation, where the Blood Legions rest when not training in the wastelands or marching in the Mortal Realms. The Bloodthirsters spend most of their time here, fighting over rank. Even these Greater Daemons must prove themselves to get anywhere with their boss - Khorne gives nothing away for free.

At the center of the keep is the throne room, rich with the stench of blood and so humid that drops of the stuff form on every surface. Eight massive pillars mark the perimeter, and the floor is made of bones, while the ceiling is obsidian. Khorne's hound, the three-headed Karanak, wanders the room freely, and at the rear of the throne room is an anvil that is constantly in use by the forge-daemons to produce the best weapons of the Khornate forces. A massive fire lights the room, fuelled by the souls of cowards slain in battle. At the center is a mountain of skulls, growing ever taller with each offering from the Khornates. At the very top of the pile is a giant brass throne, upon which Khorne sits and oversees his realm. He has grown strong from the Age of Chaos, and while he cannot defeat his brothers yet, he is certainly the strongest single one of the Chaos Gods. However, with the coming of the Age of Sigmar, things have been changing. The forces of Order have clawed back much of what Khorne took from them, allowing Tzeentch to gain power from their hope and ambition. As population rises, Nurgle will grow stronger with it by the spreading of disease. The Great Horned Rat and Nagash both seem to be seeking power, and surely that will be at Khorne's expense as well. Khorne is uneasy in his throne, but he has only one solution to it: kill people.

In theory, the easiest way for a Blood Legion to enter reality is to use a corrupted Realmgate or capture a Realmgate and corrupt it into a portal to the Realm of Chaos, but that's not easy to do. Khornate forces have launched many major wars to try and do it before, and they don't always succeed. It's much more common to summon them. Khorne has one problem compared to other Chaos Gods, though - he doesn't use sorcerers. Ever. Khorne hates magic. Therefore, the main way to summon Khornate daemons is to perform bloody murder rituals in the name of their god, weakening reality to allow the daemons to force their way through. The rituals used vary by Bloodbound tribe - the Heartseekers eat their victims' hearts, while the Axeclan stack skulls into icons of Khorne, for example. All of them involve extreme violence, however. When a summoned daemon is slain in the Mortal Realms, its spirit flows back to the Brass Citadel across the Skull Lands, eventually reappearing at the Gates of the Vanquished. To get through those and back to work, it must tell the gatekeeper its true name and how it was killed, then slowly makes its way down to the base of the skull mountain, passing through the Helbrass furnace as it does. Those that survive the hate-fuelled flames must battle angry spirits, and those who get through those receive a new form and get to rejoin their Blood Legion. Those who fail are torn apart, their energies returning to Khorne and their existence forgotten.

Next time: Khornate tribes

By popular demand
Jul 17, 2007


One day GW will realise the best and only book Khorne needs is a hollow container that spills blood on whoever opens it. Blood laced with PCP and berserker shroom extract maybe.

Apr 30, 2008

Khorne is a god who really does not benefit from being made more tangible with a realm and a body and all that. It always felt weird to me that the god of "fight everything, fight now" has a chair for his primary symbol, and he's generally depicted as sitting down. But he kind of has to or else you hit the problem of what Khorne's doing all day. You'd presume he mostly fights his own demons, in a literal, non-therapeutic way, but that just presents the idea that most demons of Khorne are probably busy fighting Khorne rather than going out into the world to kill for him, because you'd expect it to take a lot of demons to keep the god of "fight everything" busy.

The Deleter
May 22, 2010

What the description is missing is Khorne's house-sized plasma tv which he flicks between different fights going on and the occasional Blood Bowl match whilst just going :sickos:

Terrible Opinions
Oct 17, 2013

Could just make Khorne's physical present be multi aspect and fighting with itself akin to D&D's Demogorgon being occupies with fighting himself in addition to everyone else.

Apr 6, 2011

Tomorrow, doom!
But now, tea.

I don't suppose Valkia survived the Great Pauldroning, did she? She at least made Khorne a bit more interesting than just a slogan to cry.

Mors Rattus
Oct 25, 2007

FATAL & Friends
Walls of Text
#1 Builder

Loxbourne posted:

I don't suppose Valkia survived the Great Pauldroning, did she? She at least made Khorne a bit more interesting than just a slogan to cry.

Valkia is still around.

Sep 12, 2021

Daemons are pretty much extensions of the gods, aren't they? So Khorne's legions fighting constantly technically are Khorne himself, fighting constantly. Just that there's also Khorne, the general and king presiding over it all from his throne.

Oct 10, 2007

Can you see that I am serious?

Fun Shoe

Khorne's horrifying secret is that while he is powered by blood he is also a huge weenie and enjoys watching more than doing.


Apr 30, 2008

Khorne's terrible secret is that he's the war god in a war game setting called Warhammer, and people are here to do wars regardless of what he does. So he just sits back and lets everyone else do the "spreading violence" work.

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