Guess who found their scanner! Hint: It's me

This is the first "proper" map I've actually made use of in a game. Everything before has been scratchy notes and arrows or a Photoshop job.

Clickety for the huge version

I thoroughly enjoy making dungeons that have their own thing going on. What we're looking at is an old burial mound that's been burrowed into by corpse lions who have then gone on a feeding frenzy, eating most of the ancient undead guardians and chewing off the wight king's arm. Especially unfortunate considering the party are here for his signet ring. Damn pesky bugs.

Things I've learnt:

I'm still bad at drawing slopes and water

Less fiddly fills in future. These were time consuming and didn't look good enough for the investment.

Drawing ant colonies is fun.

3D rooms look nice, worth investigating in future.

Pretty sure this map is going to get another pass and be tarted up for a bigger project in the near future. I'm rather fond of it. As ever, I'm open to criticism.

In Media Res

While its citizens chat nearby, your party is strapped in the judiciary rig by neck, arm, and leg. The bailiff steps on stage while the executioner waits nearby with a saw.

“The good great lord Kamin, Rod-Master of Kine Gather, conveys herewith his judgement to [party name]. This is the judgement of Lord Kamin: That you are all egregious felons, remorseless reprobates and sneaking thieves; that you have entered the city of Kine Gather, and move through the bailiwicks thereof, in pursuit of criminal aims; that you were taken in possession of a tool of criminal thaumaturgey; that you have merited death. You are permitted final remarks. Do you wish to say something?”

What do you do?




The wizard blinks at the party, the party blinks back. The lot of you have been rudely and, one would presume, mistakenly summoned to the defence of this ragged sorcerer. The angry mob, quickly recovering from the shock of this latest affront to nature, edges closer screaming "Kill the witch! Kill the witch!".

What do you do?




You wake up in the middle of the night to see the party member supposed to be on watch carrying an exact double of himself away into the darkness. They soon return to their post like nothing happened and to anyone else they would seem entirely themselves.

On rising you notice tracks indicating similar dragged loads leading from the camp, though it's hard to tell how many.

What do you do?

                                                                                                              

I enjoy starting games in media res occasionally. It cuts out the pesky preamble and jumps to the meaty bits. Stuff just happened, go go go!

If anyone has any I'd appreciate sharing them. You can never have too many.

Qadhi, He Who Felled the First Tree

Qadhi, the Pockmarked Saviour, Father of Horrors, He Who Felled the First Tree, the Kindly One

The followers of Qadhi have no misgivings about their fate. They know what lies ahead. They know the afterlife, everyone's afterlife, is a series of exquisite torments administered by Qadhi who will weave their pain into a fine tapestry of stars. The pain is not endless and the cycle must continue, everyone is fuel for the stars, ensuring they never darken.

Followers of Qadhi believe theirs is the only afterlife, all others being fantasies created by jealous gods who fear Qadhi. They too will feed the universe in time.

The laity

The common worshipper is liberated by the knowledge that nothing they do will affect their afterlife, and in death they will play an important role in the continuation of the universe.

Worshippers of Qadhi consider the undead to be a theft from the Father of Horrors. However their torment will be no greater for angering their patron so they generally don't interfere unless the undead are of such a scale as to endanger the motion of the stars. Personal interpretations will vary.

Worshippers generally value life and good health. Killing is seen as a terribly severe act so settlements where Qadhi is popular rarely see capital punishment. The sick, disabled and elderly are well cared for. The disabled especially so as it is seen as being terribly unfair to suffer both in this life AND the next. They do what they can.

Worship of Qadhi takes the form of ritual group therapy, where the laity gather in small groups chaired by a priest. Here they are helped through their doubts and fears and into cheerful nihilism. This help covers all aspects of life, as the clergy sincerely want you to make the most of what time you have left on this world.

The clergy

A cleric of Qadhi

His priests are masterful and determined (mundane) healers. They intend to preserve themselves and others as long as possible, to wrench every second out of this life as they know nothing good waits for them beyond the veil. Qadhi can wait, Qadhi is patient.

Priests typically wear as little clothing as the local climate allows, although there is no standard. Priests in the same city will often wear different outfits as personal preference dictates. Their identifying feature is the extensive scarification and piercings all over their bodies, all expertly applied and healed. They consider the ritual mutilation of their flesh to be good practise for the future, though it is not to inure them to the pain. Indeed, it is important that Qadhi can milk them for all they're worth when the time comes. So to accommodate, they place piercings where they can be used to lever, to rip and tear most easily. Hooks and holes, all placed to apply maximum suffering on removal. All in the name of Qadhi.

The clergy are well known for they evangelical ways. They will take their scarified pates and spike bedazzled ears out to the street, door to door, on the dusty road. These missionaries offer their (non-magical, capital "C" clerics are rare) healing services to fund their travels while spreading the liberating truths of the Pockmarked Saviour.

When not travelling they operate small temples that act as hospitals and ritual gathering places for the devout's therapy. It's also the best place to get a piercing this side of the Ikons.

Corpse Lions

Named for their love of decayed flesh, corpse lion's sprawling subterranean nests often tunnel into graveyards and crypts in search of your dear old ancestors.

A corpse lion hive is considered a serious menace by local settlements, so much so that entire villages have uprooted and left in the past. Once their preferred food source is expended, once the forests and graveyards have given up their dead, they come for the living to carry them off to hang in their larders to ripen.

No. Encountered: 

Source

Between one and too damn many. A single corpse lion found outside of a nest will typically be lost and isolated, often too disoriented to defend itself.

Size:

Roughly the size of a large dog, but with longer legs.

Speed: 

As fast as a house cat.

AC: 

14. Their shell is hard, their organs are simple & robust and they're as fast as hell.

HD: 

2 (8hp)

Attacks:

Mandibles and claws +2 1d6

Gummy resin goo +1 paralyse save or blinded, further successes against a blind target will disable a limb (randomise)

They like to go for the throat and inner thighs, nicking your blood pipes in order to start the draining process. Once disabled they'll drag you to one of their larders and paste you up to the wall to dry out and get a good strong stink on. If a corpse lion rolls max damage on an attack it will induce 1d3+1 bleeding every turn until someone spends a round and an intelligence test to stem the flow.

Sometimes they won't drain you and instead disable you with their gummy saliva, burrow their heads into your gut and deposit an egg sac. This process leaves you alive long enough to keep the eggs warm, and briefly enough so that you are suitably tasty for when they hatch. (The egg sac can be removed with Cure Disease or traumatic ghetto surgery)

Reaction (pg. 56 of LotFP): 

-4, unless cornered or outnumbering you 4:1, in which case they will attempt to kill you and take you back to their nest. If you are inside the nest they will perceive you as a threat and put their whole weight into removing you.

Morale:

8. 10 when defending eggs.

Notes:

They smell like old nutmeg and sound like someone trying to light a cigarette lighter unsuccessfully.

Yet more maps

I've been getting into drawing proper maps after seeing the nice stuff Simon Forster has been making lately. I went and gathered up some pencils and technical pens and here we are, the first proper map.  

Wide shot, three levels, 1 being inside the mountain the house is on. Notice the stylish balcony for when the manticore needs to entertain guests.

Close up of the fills. Still working on these, they are shockingly stressful.

The manticore's audience chamber.

The fills need some work and the cliff lines are a bit wimpy, but overall I like where this is going. I considered using a ruler for those (not so) straight lines, but then we'd lose the endearingly sloppy penmanship. Couldn't have that.

The map itself will be used soon for when the players visit the clever old manticore who knows all sorts of useful information about apocalyptic artifacts. I just hope they bring a nice enough gift..

The Ikons

A map of the Ikons mountain range, home to Vornheim and its colonies, the Latter Kairnlaw, and the freezing bleakness of the tundra.

Full size (huge) map.

Current Things of Interest:

• The undead horde spawned from a mishap at Death Frost Mountain spread further every day. Olgrave is now a haunted ruin.
• In the south, Callipyg has been taken over by The Blight, a race of sapient mushrooms that have installed their own vision of law and put the populace to work on a mysterious construction at the centre of town. Panic amongst neighbours ensues.
• Kairnlaw is preparing for another war between Prior and Latter since the Latter has been worse hit by the undead plague. 
• Pitchflint has separated from Vornheim under their new god, a 50ft giant named Batrubis.
• The Knights of Science are being recalled to their monastery in Londo. Nobody is sure what they are up to.
• The Old Man on the Hill is open for business again. Bring the hoary old manticore something nice and he’ll help you out. People are scrabbling to get his attention since his advice has become sporadic in his old age.
• The Irongate has closed due to undead, cutting off the east. Gotta keep Vornheim safe.
• The Seawall is holding off a pile of zombies, literally. Piles against the wall, soon they'll be walking over.

(this page will be kept updated as things change)