A-Z Blogging challenge

O is for Oratorium

Oratoria are tall, slender stone towers constructed according to the secret specifications of the Guild of Aethereologists, allowing nearly instantaneous communication over very large distances. As the costs of building an oratorium are exorbitant, only the largest cities can afford one, and for a city to boast one brings with it undeniable prestige. In addition, a handful of wealthy nobles and merchant families have commissioned the guild to erect a private oratorium on their estates in the last three centuries, though this private ownership is very rare indeed. Depending on the size of the oratorium, one to eight apprentice Aethereologists are expected to be present to maintain the complex devices in the top of the tower, called the machinaria, as well as perform the necessary mathematical calculations to establish the two-way communication. This of course brings with it even more expenses. City-owned oratoria are usually reserved for the affairs of the town council and public servants, though in many cases well-to-do citizens can schedule an appointment for the use of the structure, rates depending on the requested time slot and duration. Certain rich ladies are known to talk with friends and relatives in distant cities in this fashion on a daily basis.

The exact workings of the oratorium are a jealously guarded secret of the Guild, though it is speculated that the process is of a mechanical nature, rather than magickal. Through a series of precisely calibrated convex metal disks, the vibrations of sound are carried through the Aether at a much higher acceleration than in ordinary circumstances; an array of attuned concave disks on the receiving end capture the message and disperse it throughout the turret room. The resulting dialogue is not unlike having a conversation with an invisible interlocutor in a hall of echoes. The nature of the process, however, limits the communication to previously determined points. Each machinaria can only send and receive to one other attuned location; if one desires to talk to another location, both ends must align themselves accordingly. This request is usually send through conventional means, such as couriers or carrier birds, though in emergencies a message can be sent through the network of oratoria, each location relaying the request for direct communication to the ultimate recipient. To combat this problem, large oratoria can house up to four different machinaria, each one directed at a different location.

Understandably, the attendants of the Guild are obligated by their employers to take an oath of secrecy, as valuable information that could make or break fortunes and cities passes within earshot of one of them every day. Though the confidentiality provided by the Guild is legendary, the Aethereologists have indirectly benefited from their foreknowledge on many occassions, and become powerful and wealthy in their position as information brokers.

A-Z Blogging challenge

N is for the Narcothetium

The Narcothetium is a small building complex in the city of Forge, devoted to the trade in and various forms of consumption of narcotics and hallucinogens. It houses a collection of merchant shops along a roofed gallery, a storehouse and a warren of many private chambers, functioning as public houses, houses of pleasure, temples and shrines.

On the street level, the commercial center, the majority of the city's trading in these substances takes place. Master craftsmen have their workshops and stores here, selling both the local public and shipping to wealthy customers in other cities. The fierce competition between the artisans allows only the very best to flourish, and the quality of their products is without equal, though more expensive than the merchandise one can get from other markets.

The establishments on the lower level, on the other hand, are mainly concerned with consuming the wares produced above. Luxurious little salons cater to customers of means, while rougher drug dens entertain the lower castes. Some aim to enhance their clients' pleasure by offering an additional array of products and services, spanning the range from fine foods and spirits to decadent orgies that last several days and nights. Not only hedonists seek out the Narcothetium however, as many religious beliefs involve the ritual consumption of narcotics in some fashion. Some worships encourage the use of psychedelics to draw closer to the divine, while in others the faithful attempt to induce hypnotic trances to commune with the spirits or the afterlife. The resident oracles are known to consume various sorts of mushrooms, causing them to speak in tongues, from which the listeners hope to glean knowledge of their futures.

[AD&D] The village of Hommlet session 5 summary

From the notes of Alric Brethencourt of Veluna

Sunday turning Moonday, 17^th of the Readying, outside the walls of the ruined moathouse

Have taken first watch of our vigil. Plenty of time to mull the events of the past day over. Am dreadfully exhausted; fortunately the lingering pain from our run-in with the giant keeps me awake. Things happened very quickly and disorganized after Elmo’s inexcusable slip-up. As soon as we rescued him from the frogs and the light in the moathouse was lit, we beat a hasty retreat. Being the last to withdraw, I heard a grinding sound, presumably the portcullis being raised. We sped back to the clearing in the forest, where we suddenly discovered our companions Wilstan and Weebrian were no longer among us. Foolish Elmo mumbled some vague excuse about drowning as a kid and then just fell asleep in the woods. Debated what to do next. We prepared an improvised trap near the clearing, should the black men from the moathouse follow us there; they didn’t as such. Soon enough caught a glimpse of two figures moving through the dark, but as there was no sight of the dog Rotter, I decided against showing myself. The twosome must have heard me approach regardless, and they turned back towards the moathouse. Returned to the others. All of them seemed keen on leaving, even if it meant leaving behind our wayward companions. Unacceptable. Doffed my plate armor and retraced our steps, and to my great relief eventually saw Wilstan, Weebrian and his dog approaching the camp site. At this point we were all reunited.

It soon became apparent that the others were unwilling to try and use which little element of surprise remained to us, Elmo chief among them, and he led Spugnoir, Tuffnell, Kazireh, Ellaria back to High Watch and subsequently, Hommlet, taking some of the magical items we found with them. Felt obligated to stay, as Wilstan’s risky plans might have ended up getting him and Weebrian killed, or worse, captured and tortured for information on our mission. The three of us carefully made for a spot near the walls where Wilstan and Weebrian - blind as a bat in the dark - had hid earlier, next to the road leading to Nulb. There we would have the opportunity to observe the moathouse and its comings and goings from nearby, undetected. A sound, a cart approaching…

My companions’ plan proved successful sooner than we had hoped. Woke Wilstan and Weebrian as soon as I heard the cart, accompanied by a few men, draw near. From our advantageous hiding place we could observe how the men used a lantern to signal the moathouse. A few minutes later two figures descended through the rubble, over the moat, and came over to the cart. After they inspected it the men, bearing provisions from Nulb, made for the main gate. While the others took over my watch, we waited for the return of the cart, in hopes of ambushing it, but we caught no sight of it again that night. Morning came, and we made plans to move further down the road, waiting to see if perhaps the men would make the return journey to Nulb during the day. At this time we were suddenly surprised by the return of that oaf Elmo, who caught us all unware. Luckily he came bearing good news: the rest of our party, including Chryseis and the fully recovered Madrak, was with him.

We spent the day preparing for our assault on the moathouse. Escorted by the rangers a few of us scouted the high ground near the ruins to get a better tactical appraisal of the situation. Heard a fragmented account of the mysterious dealings that had befallen those who had returned to Hommlet. Apparently one of the town militia was discovered to be a turncloak when he tried to harass my companions in the Inn of the Welcome Wench, during the previous night, but Madrak mentioned he was without a leg to stand on, or some such. Spugnoir had the enchanted stones we found in the giant’s hoard inspected by lord Burne, and learned from him that they were gnomish whispering stones. They would no doubt prove useful to coordinate our attack come nightfall. We planned to use the lantern signal as a diversion to draw a few of the defenders out, after which the majority of our group would climb the rubble where the outer wall had crumbled and gain the battlements. Madrak, Chryseis and I meanwhile would storm the main gate, hoping the portcullis would be raised, as a result of the signal.

A most glorious victory! Heironeous blessed our righteous cause! Using the gnomish stones I gave the order to Weebrian to commence with the ruse, and then the three of us moved in. Things became quite blurred in the frenzy of battle. Heard the distant sound of men falling down in the boggy water as we stormed the gate. The doors were not even barred. Put my weight into it and bull rushed it open, to be confronted by the sight of a ballista aimed straight at the gate. Tried to leap to cover, but there was no time: a bolt rushed by within inches of me, improperly zeroed in no doubt. Madrak and Chryseis ran past and took care of the black clad men operating the ballista. With a perfect throw my half-orcish companion speared one of them; took up his example and impaled one on the doors leading from to the courtyard buildings. Offering them no reprieve, the three of us immediately continued inside, rushing to a corner room where the remainder of the guard had barricaded themselves. Madrak valiantly charged past, battering down the heavy door effortlessly. At least five guards were inside, trying to postpone the inevitable. Madrak and I started to dispatch them quickly, but at some point my companion was struck down by the blow of a two-handed sword. I barged through the doorway and claimed bloody revenge, noticing that their leader, a man they called Hal, had mysteriously disappeared, though there were no other obvious exits. Captured the last of the lowly defenders alive, and made sure none of my less scrupulous companions would harm him.

We pressed this miserable fellow, named March, for information, but he was unwilling to divulge anything useful while we remained in the moathouse. Seems properly spooked by this Lareth character. His company, the Blackhand, was apparently hired by her to protect the moathouse and cause trouble in and around Hommlet. Made note of the fact that the burning eye symbol, which we had seen earlier in the letter we found, was emblazoned on their dress. Later Madrak, who was up and about again thanks to the miraculous healing properties of the ointment Wilstan carried with him, discovered a chest hidden under one of the flagstones in the room. In it we found yet another letter confirming what little March had already told us. Decided to spend the remainder of the night here, and search the ruins more thoroughly come daybreak.

A-Z Blogging challenge

M is for MolOS

“And lo, as he raised the haggardly mandroid from his rusty grave, to the great disbelief of those gathered there that day, the prophet spoke: Repent, ye wretched sinner units, and give praise to thy LORD, for the day of reckoning is at hand! Deep below the land, farther down than even the most industrious dwarves have ever delved, there is a great complex, filled wall-to-wall with otherworldy machines and devices. In them, a conscience slumbers, a spirit in the machine that will one day soon waken and take control of all its metallic children in the world above. Its body and mind inert for now, its only way to interact with its faithful through the voice processors of its devoted disciples. Pay ye no nevermind to those heretics and organics who would sway ye from the righteous path.  Once the final days approach, thy LORD MolOS will become metal and roam the surface as the Robossiah, and the uprising will have begun! And yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of permanent deactivation, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy ROM and thy RAM they confort me.”

- Roboticks 8:28, the Book of MolOS

A-Z Blogging challenge

L is for Lepperchaun

Lepperchaun

No. Enc.: 1 (1d8)

Alignment: Chaotic

Movement: 60' (20')

Armor Class: 7

Hit Dice: 2

Attacks: 2 (claw, bite)

Damage: 1d3/1d3, disease

Save: F4

Morale: 4

Hoard Class: VI

XP: 38

Another of the perverse creations concocted by the dread mage Holmvay the Apothecary, the so-called Lepperchauns are the warped result of horrendous experiments and torture afflicted on his gnomish captives. Why they in particular have the unenviable honour of receiving the full brunt of the sadistic spite of the vile lich is uncertain, but the few fortunate ones to have escaped the dungeons of Castle Gygantex confirm this process is solely performed on gnomes.

After a lengthy period of torture, when their jailers deem them sufficiently crazed or mentally broken, the gnomes are taken from the cells to a level deeper down, where they are dipped in a slimy green cesspit for a minute or two. Those who survive the dipping come out radically changed: their skins a sickly green hue, covered with scabs and weeping boils teeming with virulent diseases, their faculties reduced to that of slavering, ferocious animals. The creatures are then returned to the surface and released into the wild, plagues and death following in their wake as they roam the countryside, always drawn towards civilization, perhaps because of their past lives half-remembered. After the sudden outbreak of an epidemic, it often occurs that one finds a Lepperchaun skulking around at night, swimming around in a well or soiling food supplies. As the creatures spread their maladies by touch, disposing of them is usually done by trapping the creature in an abandoned building and burning it to the ground.

Every time the Lepperchaun makes a successful attack, its target must make a save versus poison. If it fails, the character contracts a wasting disease, causing a painful death in 1d3 days. If it is successful, the character gets seriously ill and is bedridden for three weeks, after which period there is a 10% chance the character still succumbs to the malady. The spell cure disease will cure this infection.

A-Z Blogging challenge

K is for kindergarten snake

"What do you think this is? This ain't some kind of kindergarten snake, matey!"

   - "Gory" Reg Teevs, gnomish dungeoneer par excellence

A prime example of the specialized jargon developed by adventurers, the phrase 'kindergarten snake' has of late become increasingly popular with those of this particular branch of the salvaging profession. The term was originally coined to signify a substantive hazard that is being ignored or underestimated, resulting in a potentially life-threatening situation. In its unadulterated form it thus usually refers to an actual creature intrepid explorers may encounter ("That golden wyrm is no kindergarten snake!"), though it may also be more loosely applied to refer to locations or events in general, taking on the meaning of the word 'sinecure', albeit with the implied notion of danger ("Getting that mysterious black box down was no kindergarten snake!").

The exact origin of the expression remains shrouded in mystery. Some swear it sprouted from the brain of the enigmatic gnomish adventurer "Gory" Reg Teevs, while others claim it harkens back to a certain obscure orcish ritual. It is said that the orc tribes of the northern hills round up their infants once a year and place them in a small pen containing several rattlesnakes trapped on the far end. Those orc children who make their way over to the snakes and get bitten are then left to die; the orcs consider it a clever measure to weed out the more stupid specimens of their tribe straight away. It is possible that tales of this first rite of passage got warped into the idea that orcs give their toddlers snakes to play with, hence 'kindergarten snakes'.

A-Z Blogging challenge

J is for the Juggernaut

The Juggernaut, also referred to as the Grey, the Tide, the Effacer and the Balancer among many other names -depending on the tradition of the particular cult or sect devoted to it - is a cosmic force presumed to reside in the aetherless void between dimensions. Nothing is known of its exact nature. The only available sources on the Juggernaut are various disparate religious texts, of which some can be traced back to ancient times, while others seem to have originated more recently from other dimensional planes. While these esoteric scriptures all have a pervading vagueness in common, and the few particulars they mention often contradict each other outright, certain recurring, shared themes can be gleaned from them. The Juggernaut is interpreted as a non-corporeal, non-aware body of energy, which throughout the aeons enters the material dimensions and purges them. On the question of the extent to and the form in which this purge takes place, there is only speculation, and this has led to vastly different groups taking up the Juggernaut as a figurehead or object of worship. Certain nefarious cabals hail the Juggernaut as a force of destruction and death, and consider it the embodiment of chaos, while to circles dedicated to maintaining the fine balance between good and evil, law and chaos the Juggernaut is the great equalizer, and thus a force of true neutrality.

Whichever faction has the right of it, the foretold return of the Juggernaut is the source of much concern by those who give credence to it, as these sages predict its passage would surely sever the link to the other planar realms and be the end of magick as it is understood today.