Gourd Growths

Everyone who spends time near the River Stush has to deal with them. They are the price locals pay for rich soil and plentiful fishing. A nuisance, yes, but no more so than floods, earthquakes, malaria, or any other objectively terrible thing humans have gotten used to. The few who die are mourned, but their loss is made up for by the complete absence of famine from living memory.

The growths root deeply in muscle before the “fruit” appears. It has a hard outer skin, and squishy, yellow-green flesh within, hence the name. They cause a deep aching pain in the body, which can be managed by clipping the growths each morning to keep them small. They’re sensitive enough that clipping is extremely painful, but leaving them unclipped for even a few days allows them to grow to an unmanageable size. The baseline pain threshold of the locals has thus been set to inhuman heights. As far as they’re concerned, outlanders are all pansies.

New growths appear now and again, a few inches apart. They mostly grow on the back, belly, and the upper half of the arms and legs. Removing them completely is a difficult and dangerous process, but necessary for those who’ve got too many sprouts, or whose growths have migrated to an area where they may do serious damage, such as the chest, hands, feet, or head. Fortunately, there’s the River Doctor.

She’s a kindly old woman, well into her ’70s, traveling up and down the river with her tongueless apprentice and her bag of tools. She spends a few weeks in each town, removing what growths need it, and ensuring everyone heals up well before loading her river yacht with the grateful town’s foodstuffs, and moving on to the next settlement. The trip back and forth takes most of the year. She disappears for a few months each winter before starting her journey again after the spring thaw.

It is lamentably inevitable that she lose a few patients each year. What doctor does not? She insists on keeping the bodies for autopsy, which everyone agrees is reasonable. No one is crass enough to question the saintly doctor. Before her, things were much worse.

In truth, the River Doctor has rarely ever lost a patient. The gourd growths are trivially easy to remove for anyone with the right tools and basic surgical training. No, the ones who “die” are simply those with the most promising fruit. In the bowels of her yacht are metal cages where the ‘dead’ are kept drugged and docile until the winter, when she takes her boat down the sea coast to the manse of the Mad Marquis.

Beneath this imposing cliffside villa is a dungeon where the growths are fostered in an ideal environment, clipped only when they’ve achieved a full and painful bloom. The Marquis enjoys them as a delicacy. The enlightened mind can’t be bothered by the trifles of human suffering. If a good meal means turning people into immobile clusters of gourd growths, it’s a small price to pay. The Marquis even operates a small and secret market for other discriminating elites enlightened enough to share his philosophy.

Eventually the unchecked growths always kill their host, but not before producing one final fruit, which always sprouts from the top of the head. Pale blue in color, the Marquis believes it contains the victim’s soul. Whether or not that’s true, there’s no denying that consuming these blue fruits is an experience that defies description. One never quite knows what to expect.

Fun Races That Are Not Classes

If you read this post without purchasing Faux Pas, you are stealing! That tactic works to get people to buy things, right? Fuck, I just…I really want you to buy it. I think it will make you happy. It’s only $4 and it comes with a free audio book. Please?

Race-as-class is heckin’ lame! Your species shouldn’t determine what you’re able to do, man. Ya know what else is heckin’ lame? : elves and dwarfs and ~~hobbits~~ halflings! Gnomes are tight, but they’ve been done before. Let’s do somethin’ newwwww!

BUBBLE BOI

“Boi” is a misnomer resulting from our patriarchal society’s ideology of gender essentialism and the male default. Bubble Bois are genderless.

Common folk are terrified by Bubble Bois because they look creepy. To mitigate this, BBs often wear baggy clothes and disguise their faces with flesh colored paint, googly eyes, and bushy mustaches that hide their lack of a mouth. This effort generally just makes them even creepier.

Since they are only slightly heavier than air, Bubble Bois are able to jump pretty much as high and as far as they want, though if they overreach they may be blown off course by a gentle breeze. They’re also pretty much immune to falling damage. Both of these benefits are lost if the BB is ever more than lightly encumbered, which is why many choose to be wizards rather than fighters.

Another reason for preferring the back lines of combat is that Bubble Bois have low manual dexterity. They can carry things just fine, and turn the pages of books well enough, but anything that requires expert use of fingers is going to incur a penalty. Also, if they’re ever struck by a piercing weapon, they must make a saving throw versus instant death. So that’s kind of a bummer.

On the upside, their anatomy has no resemblance whatsoever to humans, so they’re immune to most poisons. If anything, injecting a Bubble Boi with poison just gives them a poison touch ability for while.

SHOULDER CONSCIENCE

Not everyone has a shoulder conscience. Most people’s actions just aren’t cosmically important enough for the spirit world to care what they do one way or the other. So, if you’re playing a shoulder conscience, you’re attached to someone goddamned impressive.

The referee ultimately decides how impressive they are, but it should be pretty big. Maybe when they’re rolling ability scores they roll 5d6, take 3 highest, arrange to taste; while the other players have to roll 3d6 down the line. Maybe they get to level up as two different classes simultaneously. Maybe something else.

The player of the shoulder conscience must pick an extremist alignment. They may be absolutely good, absolutely evil, absolutely lawful, absolutely chaotic, or absolutely something else that seems appropriate. They are a cosmic embodiment of these ideals, there are no half measures here. If they ever stray from this alignment, they will lose 1 influence over their ward.

Whatever alignment the player picks for themselves will be directly opposed by another shoulder conscience. When the player wants their ward to do something, this other guy wants the exact opposite.

Much of the time the player of the shoulder conscience may control their ward directly, as though it were their character. The cosmic forces of right and wrong don’t care what you choose to have for breakfast. However, any time the ward might be conflicted about what to do, the referee should call for a roll. 50/50 chance that the ward does what the player wants, or the opposite of what the player wants.

If the player wins 5 decisions in a row, they gain 1 influence. Now, their ward has a 70% chance to do what they want. If they ever win 10 decisions in a row, their influence increases to 80%. This works the same way in reverse: if you lose 5 decisions in a row, your chance of success decreases to 30%. If you lose 10, it decreases to 20%. All influence resets to 50/50 at the start of a new session.

METAL GURL

To a human observer all Metal Gurls are, indeed, female. Our researchers haven’t been able to identify any anatomical or sociological variations. Yet among themselves, Metal Gurls are able to identify 7 entirely distinct sexes. We’ll just have to take their word for it.

The species is easily identified by their naturally colorful hair and markings. Adults will also have metal spikes growing out of their body somewhere. The particular combination of hair color, skin markings, and spike locations is unique to each individual. No two Metal Gurls are alike.

Any action which could be described as “totally metal” comes naturally to Metal Gurls, and they should receive a significant bonus to success. Note that any action which doesn’t result in significant injury to one’s self cannot be described as “totally metal.”

TWISTED METAL ABOMINATION UNTO GOD

Nobody likes these guys. If you play one, just be aware of that. There’s a lot of prejudice against your people, and all of it is entirely justified. The way you bounce around, twisting your body into different shapes and offering unsolicited advice? It’s gross, and you should be ashamed that you were born this way.

Because of their uncanny ability to manipulate their body’s shape, Twisted Metal Abominations Unto God grapple as though they were 4 levels higher than they are. They also cause any party they’re in to suffer a -6 penalty on initial reaction rolls, because people hate them just that much.

The real reason people hate T-MAUGs is their constant, condescending explanations. They have this primal need to hear themselves talk. It doesn’t matter how good you are at something, or how many times the T-MAUG has seen you do that thing: they will explain it to you anyway.

When a T-MAUG explains how to do something to a person who is already doing it, that person must make a saving throw. If they succeed, their anger inspires them to do a way better job than they normally would in an attempt to prove to the T-MAUG that they don’t need any help. (This never works, but the character still gets a significant bonus to whatever they were attempting).

If the saving throw fails, the target’s anger forces them to make an attack against the T-MAUG with the nearest available weapon.

d100 Gobbobilities

With thanks to Justin Stewart of Dragons Gonna Drag for donating his time to proofread this post.

Even in rules-light D&D, players are expected to do a lot of bookkeeping. Tracking skills, spells, and other silly stuff can be tedious, which is why Gobbos exist. Gobbos have no use for books, or for keeping them. Gobbos have no levels, and thus gain no experience. Gobbos do not understand the value of money, and so collect no share of treasure. Think of Gobbos as hyperactive 6 year olds with a slightly greater capacity for murder.

The basic Gobbo has only two numbers to write down: their saving throw is 12. This works for every kind of save, and will never improve. Their armor rating is whatever your system’s base armor rating is. In LotFP, that’s also 12. Gobbos can’t wear any armor. If someone tries to put armor on them, they’ll complain about how heavy or itchy it is, and eventually squirm out of it when no one is looking, leaving bits and pieces of it everywhere.

When attacking, gobbos roll 1d20 without modification, and deal 1d6 damage regardless of the weapon they choose to wield. Exceptions might be made if the gobbos attempt to operate some kind of heavy artillery.

Gobbos have no hit points. Instead, when a gobbo gets hit, roll a d6. If the number rolled is greater than the amount of damage directed at them, they shrug the injury off. The damage is not recorded, it simply bounces off them. If they roll equal to or less than the incoming damage, their feelings are hurt. They will begin to cry, and are uselessly inconsolable until the next session.

If a gobbo falls into a bottomless pit, disintegrates, gets gobbled up by a monster, or is otherwise physically separated from the party, they’ll be gone until the next session. When they come back, they’ll have all sorts of stories about the adventures they went on.

Given their fragility and general ineffectiveness, players may play more than one gobbo simultaneously. Somewhere between 2 and 5 is probably the most fun. Given their general lack of combat effectiveness, there’s no need for every gobbo to act each round unless the player really wants them to. Just assume they’re in the background goofing off.

Each gobbo also has a single special ability, rolled on the table below.

Has a slightly fishy appearance. Able to breathe underwater, and swim like a mer-gobbo.
Every real-time hour, the gobbo may ask god one dumb question. God is listening, and will answer honestly. However, they answer through the gobbo’s own mouth, in the gobbo’s own voice, so it really just sounds like the gobbo is talking to themselves.
By expressing affection, the gobbo can cause a plant to grow and become healthy. By expressing hatred, the plant will wither and die. The process takes a few minutes. The gobbo cannot control the way in which the plant grows or dies, though other outside means may be employed.
Able to talk to plants. Plants are very honest, but also rude. The gobbo tends to get in a lot of angry shouting arguments with them.
Able to talk to animals. Animals have an animal understanding of the world around them. The gobbo frequently becomes frustrated at dealing with such stupid creatures.
Able to talk to rocks. Rocks have very limited perception of the world around them, and are sooooooo boring to talk to. Ugh!
Sneaky little bastard has the second best stealth skill possible in your game system. (5-in-6 for LotFP)
Attacks with a +8 to their roll, and deals 1d8 damage. That counts regardless of whether they’re using a real weapon or not.
Each night, while sleepwalking, they make grenades. The gobbo has no idea how to make grenades while they’re awake, but they carry around a sack of the things with a d6 exhaustion die. (Each time a grenade is pulled out, roll a d6. If a 1 is rolled, there’s only one grenade left). The grenades deal 2d6 damage in a 5′ radius. No attack roll needed, but targets may make a saving throw versus Breath for half damage.
When attacking from hiding, the gobbo gets a +10 to their attack roll, and multiplies their damage by 5.
Roll a first level clerical spell from the table of your choice, whether or not you allow clerics in your game. The gobbo gains that spell as a natural ability, usable at-will for non-healing spells, or once-per-day if the spell heals something.
Roll a first level magic user spell. The gobbo gains that spell as a natural ability.
When they bite someone, it’s damn near impossible to get them off until they want to be gotten off. No attack roll needed, however the victim may make a saving throw versus paralyzation to avoid. While latched on, the gobbo may hinder any action their victim wishes to take, so long as their victim isn’t super huge or anything. This won’t really work on a godzilla. If their victim is fleeing, the gobbo can remain attached as long as they want, then return next session to tell the party where the person got off to.
Instead of rolling a d6 when the gobbo is hit in combat, roll a d12 + 2.
Runs really fast. Like, heckin’ fast. 10 times as fast as normal characters. No joke.
Their feet are both buoyant, and covered in hardy callouses! They can walk on water, on lava, on acid, on basically any liquid no matter how harmful it would normally be.
Has flaps of skin which allow it to glide down from high places. Or, if there’s enough wind, to fly like a kite.
Cannot be bound. Any bond they are placed in, they can slip out of whenever they wish. It doesn’t matter how impossibly secure their prison is, they will break the laws of physics if need be.
Able to squeeze themselves through any opening, so long as a normal human could fit their pinky finger into it.
Has a seemingly infinite supply of rubber bands and paper airplanes, and is shockingly accurate aim with them.
A particular talent for throwing things. Anything this gobbo can heft, they can throw with nigh-perfect accuracy, up to 30′. (More if they can get up above their target and throw down at it.) To hit an unmoving, man-sized target, roll an attack roll against an armor rating of 5. Modify up or down for smaller or larger targets. Moving targets use whatever their normal armor rating would be, minus 2.
Completely immune to falling damage. Always land on their feet.
For whatever reason, their antics come off as charming. Anytime the party makes a social roll, the gobbo can do some goofy shit to lend them a bonus to that roll.
Instead of having a saving throw of 12, this gobbo has a saving throw of 5. Again, this is good no matter what saving throw is called for.
Completely immune to magic of any kind.
Has a weird knack for tripping people. Whoever they decide to trip must make a saving throw versus paralyzation or fall prone. If the gobbo comes up with something clever, they might even be able to attempt tripping multiple people at once this way.
Can teleport at will to anywhere within their light of sight, leaving a puff of smoke and a “BUMF!” sound behind them.
Can choose to emit any color of light they want from their eyes, at any intensity they desire. Good for creating spooky eyes in the dark, looking for hidden ink, illuminating a room, or even blinding foes.
Has corrosive drool, which quickly rotted away all of their teeth. By gumming on just about anything for a minute or so, they can reduce it to unrecognizable slag.
Able to transform themselves into a bat at will. They tell people their dad was a vampire.
They’re crazy good at eavesdropping. If they’re not supposed to hear something (such as some monsters plotting their doom behind a door), they’ll hear it from a mile away.
Kids are naturally drawn to them. Any kid this gobbo meets will become fast friends, with a whole series of weird games and inside jokes. This even extends to newborn babies, which the gobbo has an uncanny ability to understand.
Parents are naturally drawn to them. Anyone with a child will have their paternal instincts kicked into overdrive by the sight of this gobbo. They’ll want to make sure this lil’ guy is fed and clothed and feels happy and safe.
The gobbo has an uncanny knack for stupid stunts. The more terrible consequences will result from failure, the better. Once the stunt has been described (after a few “make it dumber!” demands from the referee), roll a d6. There’s a 4-in-6 chance the stunt succeeds. On failure, the gobbo injures themselves to the point of crying inconsolably until the next session.
Knows just what to say to turn two people against one another. Any lie told about a person who is not present has a 4-in-6 chance of being believed. If the lie fails, the Gobbo feels chagrined enough that the player must wait 1 real-time hour before they attempt this trick again.
The gobbo’s boogers are sticky. Like, aerospace-grade adhesive. Only the gobbo’s own skin oils are capable of touching one of its boogers without getting stuck.
A long mop of greasy hair grows from the gobbo’s scalp. By wringing the hair out, the gobbo can produce a pungent lubricant that is slippery as hell, and difficult to wash away.
With a twist and a backwards jump, the gobbo is able to instantaneously shed its skin, leaving a translucent statue of itself behind in whatever pose they desire. The skin quickly dries out and becomes rigid enough to support twice the gobbo’s body weight.
Skin is puckered with unnaturally large pores. At will, their body acts like a sponge, absorbing any liquid they’re immersed in. Later, this can be excreted by the gobbo in a single splash from all their pores at once, or in a stream from one of their body’s orifices. Careful not to absorb too much, or you won’t be able to move!
Able to climb any surface, like a spider.
Can burrow through the earth like a mole, with the same movement speed it would have moving on foot. Also works for excavating large spaces at a rate of 10′ cubed per turn.
Forgeries this gobbo makes will fool the first person who examines them, but never anyone else. They’re made with crayons and spit, so it’s a mystery why they fool anyone at all.
The nose of a bloodhound. They can parse smells better than any human, extracting a surprising amount of information just from sniffing the air.
Able to take magic into their body, and redirect it back out again. They have a 3-in-6 chance of success if they want to reflect it back towards the caster, 2-in-6 if they want to direct it elsewhere. On failure, they’re affected by it normally. Ability only works if they know they’re the target of a spell.
This gobbo is a bit of a blank slate. It just follows its companions around, going along with what the other gobbos want. If it is directed to bite someone, that person’s body will go limp, and their mind will be placed in this gobbo’s body. Only willing or immobilized characters can be bitten in this way. The player of the gobbo, and the player of whomever the gobbo bit, must work together to decide what that the new combined character does. The bit character can return to their own body at any time by biting it again.
Snot bubble hot air balloons allow this gobbo to float up into the air and fly around on the breeze.
Dead creatures will obey a single command given by this gobbo. To the gobbo, it seems totally natural and not creepy at all that dead people do favors for him. What is neh-kro-macy?
Has a mighty sneeze attack. On a successful attack, the targeted enemy within 15′ is pushed back 10′, and must make a saving throw versus poison to avoid getting sick. Sick characters spend a few minutes sneezing, a few minutes vomiting, and a few minutes shivering in the fetal position uncontrollably. The whole disease runs its course in about 10 minutes.
Has the stinkiest poops of all. There is no quicker way to clear a room than to put one of this gobbo’s poops in it. No one with a sense of smell can willingly be within smelling distance of this poop. The gobbo only poops once per game day, and after 24 hrs its poops dry out and lose all smelliness. Making jenkems with this gobbo’s poop will FUCK YOU UP.
Has phenomenal artistic talent. Painting, sculpture, music, film, as-yet uninvented media, they have an uncanny knack for just about everything.
A perfect catcher. They can catch anything, without fail. They can catch bullets, intercepting 1 projectile each round. Objects too large for the gobbo to reasonably hold may cause some issue, though they can still technically be caught.
Once per real-time hour, this gobbo can go rummaging in any heap of detritus nearby, and emerge with something useful. The referee is the final arbiter on what is discovered, but everyone at the table is encouraged to make suggestions. It will never be a unique item (such as the key to a door the players wish to bypass), or will it ever be a particularly valuable item. Just something that would help the party at this particular moment.
A weird, lucky, savant. This gobbo has a modest chance to succeed with every skill in the game. (Using LotFP, a modest chance would be 2-in-6).
Able to vomit up a yellowish cement-like substance on command. Enough to form a 2′ by 2′ square in 1 minute.
Has a completely encyclopedic knowledge of bugs. If it’s even vaguely bug related, this Gobbo will have some kind of useful info to share.
Has a completely encyclopedic knowledge of fungus and slime. If it’s even vaguely fungus or slime related, this Gobbo will have some kind of useful info to share.
Has a completely encyclopedic knowledge of pop culture. If it’s even vaguely related to pop culture, this Gobbo will have some kind of useful info to share.
Has an incredible ability to ride things. Any action which can reasonably be described as “riding,” or as an element of riding has a 5-in-6 chance of success.
They’re so good at playing pretend that they create minor illusions of whatever they’re imagining. They must be able to catch the attention of the people they wish to fool, but anything they describe happening will appear to happen: sight, sound, and smell.
Plays a scary version of peek-a-boo. The gobbo picks a person or thing to play with, then covers their eyes. Their target must make a saving throw versus magic. On a failed throw, it will cease to exist for as long as the gobbo keeps its eyes covered with both hands.
The gobbo has a bottomless belly pouch. Like a kangaroo, except they don’t keep babies in there. They keep their junk. The gobbo will only hold on to items which are their own personal property. They won’t carry things for the rest of the party.
Hard headed enough that a good bash can knock in just about any normal door. Heck, give the gobbo 3 minutes and they’ll smash a hole in a stone wall for you.
The gobbo has a superb sense of direction. They always know, even if it seems impossible, what the shortest route to the exit is. They’ll never lead down any dead ends, though they may get sidetracked and lead the party to something only they think would be fun.
When playing hide and seek, there is no better hider than this. One moment you’re looking right at them, then you blink, and suddenly they’re gone. The gobbo must specify where they’re hiding, and it must be within a the same room or at least nearby, but for all intents and purposes they are able to teleport themselves into hiding.
Has an enduring love for playing dress up. Give them a pile of junk and 10 minutes, and they’ll have everyone they know outfitted with a dapper new disguise fit to fool their own mothers.
A skilled whistler, to the point that they annoy everyone with their high-pitched tweeting. If they really try, they can actually perform a sonic attack with their whistling, shattering any glass, ceramic, or crystal within 30′ that they aim their lips at. May require a to-hit roll for particularly small, obscured, or moving targets.
Good at picking pockets, performing magic tricks, wrestling stuff out of people’s hands, and otherwise being digitally dexterous. In LotFP terms, they have a 6-in-6 for Sleight of Hand.
Has a knack for getting doors open or getting machines to work. Essentially a 6-in-6 for Tinkering.
Is absolutely delicious. Any creature with the intent to eat living meat will be instantly attracted to the succulent smells of this gobbo. Even those not normally inclined to such acts may be tempted. Once eaten, the imbiber must make a saving throw versus poison or get food poisoning. They’ll have no time to do anything other than poop their guts out for the next 24 hours. Miraculously, no matter how much they chewed, the gobbo will emerge fully re-formed within a few hours at the most.
Able to vomit voluminously on command. After they vomit, everyone who sees them must make a saving throw versus poison, or they will also barf.
Restorative drool, which can seal up wounds and mend broken limbs. Able to produce enough drool to restore 10 hit points each day.
Has a perfect memory. They’re able to quote anything they’ve heard, without error, in an exact imitation of the voices they heard it in. Moreover, they’re able to draw, with exquisite detail, anything they’ve ever seen. These skills only apply when recalling something. They have no particular talent for voices or for art otherwise.
Nobody throws a tantrum like this goblin. When something is taken from them, or they are denied something they want, they’re able to go absolutely BERSERK. 20 strength! 25 strength! 100 strength! Immune to damage! Punch for 3d12 damage! The state lasts for 1 minute, and can only occur once per session. Be warned: the gobbo’s rage will be directed towards whoever took from them / denied them, so don’t go activating their rage and hoping they’ll turn it against your foes.
Farts lightning bolts which deal 6d6 damage in a 60′ line straight out from their butt. Only has a 1-in-6 chance of being able to fart on command. 2 in 6 if they’ve consumed some bubbly beverage recently.
Has an intuitive understanding of modern technology, enabling them to use it with ease, even if they don’t know how to tie their shoe. Works with whatever technology is “modern” in your setting. Gobbo will refer to anyone who can’t keep up with their technical know-how as a “Grandpa.”
By concentrating and straining really super hard, this gobbo’s body becomes mysteriously heavier, and heavier, and heavier. After about 10 minutes they can get to a max weight of a few tons without any change in their size or shape. No complicated actions may be performed while heavy. Popping back to normal weight is instantaneous when the gobbo stops concentrating.
The gobbo’s farts make such hilarious sounds that everyone who can hear them must make a saving throw versus Magic or be consumed with laughter. -1 to their save if they’re close enough to smell it too. Victims may attempt a new save each round to regain control of themselves, with a cumulative +3 each round.
Anything that relies on pure dumb luck is double-weighted in this gobbo’s favor. For example, if the gobbo calls a coin flip in the air, it has a 75% chance of landing on the side they called. This works only for diegetic randomness like gambling, not for meta game randomness like attack rolls or skill checks.
Once per session this gobbo may declare that someone is lying, and it will be true. If necessary, the referee must bend reality to accommodate the fact of this lie. If they really, really, really want to, the referee may tell the gobbo that they are wrong, and that this person was not lying. However, the gobbo will now be able to use their ability twice this session.
By yelling stuff like “Stop being dumb!” and “Just do it!” the Gobbo has a mysterious ability to actually make people better at whatever they’re doing. Not enough to add any bonuses to rolls, but enough to make failure a little less bad than it would normally be. (None the less, if you fail, the gobbo will probably lambast you for not listening to them when they told you to do it right.) Giving this sort of “encouragement” precludes any other action being taken by the gobbo. (They cannot attack the same round, or “encourage” two people at once).
If the gobbo shouts “GO AWAY! I HATE YOU!” at someone, then that person must make a saving throw. On failure, they must go away, knowing they are hated. The gobbo may only emotionally manipulate one person at a time.
This gobbo carries around hand puppets of various styles. For whatever reason, these puppets are perceived to be real people by anyone who sees the gobbo manipulate them. Not specific real people, mind you. The gobbo cannot make someone believe the puppet is their mother. However, any words said by the puppets, or actions taken by them, will be perceived as the actions of a living individual.
By rubbing its grubby face on stuff, the gobbo can leave an imprint of its face. The gobbo is able to see, smell, hear, and speak through this face. Until a face is erased, the gobbo cannot stop receiving sensory information from it, which is annoying. Leaving more than a few faces out in the world will give the gobbo a serious headache.
Has a big ol’ horn. It’s a foot long, rigid, with a needle-sharp tip and one knife-like edge. At will, the gobbo can retract the horn into its body, and cause it to pop back out anywhere it likes. It can have a horn sprouting from its forehead, or its stomach, its left butt cheek, or from in between two of its toes.
Able to collapse into a puddle of slime, oozing around, moving only across level surfaces or downhill. It takes about 10 minutes to reform.
With innocent-sounding questions and doe eyed looks, this gobbo can force a target to make a saving throw against shame. On failure, the victim must reconsider their behavior, or at least work much harder to hide it. Works only if the target is doing something the average person wouldn’t want a child to know about.
Whenever they want, the gobbo can grow big big BIG! Fifteen feet tall, with speed and power to match! For every minute the gobbo spends being big, they must spend an hour sleeping immediately after to recover their energy.
Through the use of the mighty Double Dog Dare, this gobbo can force people to make a save versus Magic, or obey the gobbo’s command. If they make their save, they may dare the gobbo to do something, which the gobbo must do. No save.
Is a very good goalie. Crazy good. If this gobbo decides they don’t want someone to get past them, they basically function as a 10′ by 10′ invisible wall. Nobody will expect them to be as capable a blocker as they are.
With a parting of their hands, the gobbo can part just about anything as if they were Moses or some junk. Water, bushes, crowds, walls, etc. Every 30 seconds, the gobbo must roll a saving throw to avoid getting distracted. If they get distracted, whatever they parted will collapse.
An endless supply of teeth. Each one yanked out will be replaced by another within a half hour. Teeth can be spit out like bullets, left on the ground like caltrops, and probably used in all sorts of other horrible ways.
When the gobbo yawns, the response is more than contagious. Everyone nearby (including friends) must make a saving throw or fall asleep. The yawning gobbo themselves doesn’t get a save. They always fall asleep, and they’re a heavy gosh dang sleeper.
This gobbo is a tattle tale. They have a sort of divination which allows them to know one bad thing that a person has done. This works only once per person, PC or NPC alike.
Any part of their body can be detached. Though separate from the body, it will communicate sensation, and act according to the gobbo’s thoughts as normal. Detached bits must be recovered and snapped back into place, they cannot grow back.
This gobbo is a picky eater. If they can fit an object in their mouth, they’ll instantly know everything that is wrong with it. Whether it’s cursed, poisoned, whether some evil dude had it once, or wants to claim it, everything. This ability cannot be used to divine any nice information.
Through relentless teasing, this gobbo can force an enemy to focus entirely on them during combat. There is no save against this unless the foe has a strong reason to ignore the gobbo’s taunts, such as a commander shouting at them.
Any trick the player describes which can feasibly be performed without hands has a 4-in-6 chance of success. The gobbo will probably shout at members of the party to look at them while they do whatever they’re doing, and will always boast that they’re not using their hands. Note that picking locks or wielding weapons with one’s feet is not considered “feasible” for the purposes of this ability.
By climbing on top of something, the gobbo instantly makes the floor around whatever they’re standing on as hot as lava. The effect moves along with the gobbo as they climb across chairs and tables to avoid falling in, so that they’re always at risk of falling in. If the gobbo intentionally jumps down, the effect ends.
A gosh danged savant when it comes to setting up practical jokes and home-alone style traps. So long as they have the most important elements, they can set up even the most complex of Rube-Goldbergian contraptions in the space of a minute. Minor elements, like pulleys and bits of string, have a way of simply being around when this gobbo has need of them.
Of all gobbos, this one is the undisputed master of “I’m not touching you.” This gobbo never touches anything it doesn’t wanna touch. Pressure plates? Not happening. Complicated laser grid? No problem. If they want to, they can even walk with their feet an inch off the floor, or swim with a thin layer of air between the water and their skin. They still gotta breathe and be warm, though, so they gotta touch the air.

30 Dungeon Origins

Good dungeons have nigh-incoherent architecture. They exist to challenge players, which is the exact opposite design goal to just about any structure that exists in real life. This is why dungeons with realistic layouts are usually as dull as a -2 dagger. It’s also why most attempts to explain why a dungeon exists are embarrassing to endure.

None the less, giving a dungeon some reason to exist is incredibly useful for informing its development. There’s a few classic explanations that try to lend an understandable intent to the incoherent architecture: catacombs, temples, mad wizards, etc. All are tried-and-true ideas that do the job well enough, but sometimes it’s fun to reinvent the wheel.

The dungeon predates the world. Its shape correlates to mysteries of creation beyond the scope of an adventurer to even think about. It floated in space for eons before drifting into a gathering ball of dust that became our world.
A space ship which crashed here in ages long past. The auto-repair function was severely damaged, resulting in the difficult-to-navigate interior.
The dungeon has not actually been built yet. The structure of it moves backwards through time. It was destroyed long ago, and in the future someone will build it. Examining the architecture may reveal some clues about what is to come.
Built by a species of architect ant, which is compelled to create dungeons.
When the goblin wars ended, the two races came to terms. The races of men could have the surface, but only if they built a home for goblinkind beneath the earth.
The dungeon was built in an earlier age by a religion which still exists. It is a sacred site, but because many of its secrets have been lost to time, it is dangerous to explore.
The dungeon is alive. It builds itself. It reacts.
The dungeon is a board game for gods. They got bored with it when dinosaurs still roamed the earth, and have forgotten where they left it.
Built as a kind of rat’s maze, by a powerful cosmic entity. This is not hidden. Everybody knows that when you enter this dungeon, you’re being watched and tested. People go in anyway because the “cheese” is legitimately bounteous treasures.
Built by dinosaurs, who foresaw their death and the dominance of disgusting ape creatures. They built it and placed their greatest treasures within it to tempt as many of us as possible to our deaths.
Built by a guild of engineers and architects, as a showcase of their many and varied skills.
Eroded into existence by spiteful river spirits.
The biggest, most elaborate sex dungeon of all time. Built by the ruler of a sexocracy.
Was a facility for containing creatures and objects with dangerous abilities and unknown purpose. There was a breakout long ago, so many of these things have long since escaped into the world, and may even be widely known and considered normal today. (Perhaps nobody got cancer, pregnancy was easy, and human lifespan was triple what it is now). Some of the safeguards are still here and dangerous, some of the anomalies are still here and dangerous. Some of them are still contained, and the world is better for it. Dungeon should list some stuff that used to be better before the breakout.
Conquered locals were forced to build a palace for their new distant ruler. They intentionally built it to be dangerous and confusing for their oppressors.
An active temple for the god of foolhardy death. Attempting to plunder the temple is an act of religious devotion. At least, that’s what the priests say. Everyone else figures it’s just an elaborate form of human sacrifice. Sure, a few might make it out with fabulous wealth, but far more will perish in the attempt.
Built in ancient times by a jealous nation. They built this labyrinth in hopes it would be listed as one of the wonders of the world.
The people of the nearby village were posessed a few years back. They spent years building it in a daze. When they woke up, they didn’t remember anything, and now avoid the place.
A subterranean civilization, digging up, did not realize eventually the earth would end and give way into the terrifying sky. Believing they had discovered hell, they created the most complicated maze of passages and rooms they could, to prevent the creatures from this terrible place from finding their way down into the wholesome lands below.
A time capsule, created to commemorate the 1,000th year of a city’s founding. It is meant to showcase their culture and civilization. And to play a few pranks on the naughty futuremen.
Some folks believe in craftsmanship. It doesn’t matter if nobody will ever see a thing, you still make it as beautiful and intricate as you can. Even if all you’re making is a sewer system, you do something to make that sewer system stand out. If not to people, then to god, who sees everything.
The structure of the dungeon is incredibly precise shape. A sort of ‘magic circle,” (though it is not a circle) used in an ancient summoning to create the moon.
A prince ordered the dungeon built long ago as a trial to test the valor of his potential suitors.
The holy temple of maturity. Before a girl of this tribe can be considered a woman, she must present a plan for a new corridor or room, and build it with her own two hands. She may be instructed, but never aided.
An alien algorithm meant for creating video games got ahold of some nanobots, sent them to our world, and built a dungeon for real.
Knowing they would be conquered when the campaigning season began, a whole civilization dedicated themselves to building this dungeon as a way of preventing their conquerors from ever finding their treasure. They sold their souls for magics. The whole treasures of their people are visible from the very first room, but are behind and impenetrable wall of death.
A structure built to trap a god, while still showing that god proper respect.
The dungeon itself is a kind of computer, and those who attempt to navigate it advance its computations through their actions. Once enough people have attempted to plunder it, the problem will be solved. It’s unclear what happens then.
There is a creature which gestates in dungeons, the way a bird gestates in an egg. The parent created this place to foster their child.
Once, men were at peace with a strange race, with strange needs. They built an embassy here, to better maintain relations. Eventually, though, peace broke down, and the two races parted ways. Only the embassy is left, as hostile to human life as it was necessary to theirs.

Behaviors for The Level 1 Creature Generator

Well known amphibian aficionado and all-around cool dude Michael Raston recently put out The Level 1 Creature Generator. It’s a handy tool for referees who are tired of listening to the reptilian enthusiasts and mammalian traditionalists argue with one another every time the party is attacked by Kobolds.

I think it’s a pretty fun creative tool, but I’m also Michael’s bud, so I’m not going to pretend to offer any kind of serious review for it. It’s good stuff, and Michael deserves his dollar for it.
That being said, after perusing the basic shape table, the form table, and the ability table, it struck me that the project could be improved by inclusion of a behaviors table. So I made one.

Level 1 Creature Behaviors

Roll 1d4, then 1d10

One

Plagued with obsessive compulsions. Must perform actions a specific number of times, quickly clean any blood off themselves, and adhere to rigid standards of organization and symmetry in all things.
Will talk about anyone it encounters as if they cannot hear or understand it. Will only directly address other creatures of its own type, or sometimes talk to itself.
Takes wagers on everything. 5sp you can’t guess where their tattoo is? How about 2sp you’ll need to ask them for help before you get out of the dungeon? 15sp they can kill that adventurer in less than 3 swings.
Tell a lot of really obvious, pathetic lies, all the time.
They use a “talking stick”, and take it very seriously. Anyone who speaks without holding the stick is warned a single time, then attacked with intent to kill if they break the rule again. If their stick is lost, they will not speak until a new stick can be consecrated.
Interpret everything in the most depressing possible way. They seem almost fetishistic in their desire to be miserable.
Have a dizzying array of superstitions. It seems everything that happens can be interpreted to have some prophetic significance to them.
Believe themselves to be much more intimidating than they are, as if the mere sight of them should make mortal men cower in fear. No matter how someone acts towards the creatures, they will bend over backwards to maintain this belief.
Act as though any violence they perform is a favor. “You are welcome for ending your miserable existence. It must be such a burden being a member of a lesser order of life.”
Conceive of themselves as contemptible filth-creatures, which deserve to be put down.

Two

Treat new people they meet with an uncomfortable familiarity, like an obnoxious sibling. They’re very touchy, take constant jibes at a person’s foibles, and play pranks which go way too far.
Waste is deeply offensive to them. They are committed to using every part of the adventurer.
Have an obsession with seeking out the most glorious deaths they can. Will fight to stay alive only to make the death more glorious.
Always have a scribe among them wherever they travel, so someone can record their deeds and bring it back to the community. This scribe is strictly a non-combatant.
Are paralyzingly afraid of the dark. Always have plenty of torches or other light sources with them.
Are frantically afraid of the vast open void of the sky. Refuse to step out from the underground. If they can be captured and shoved into a building, they will never leave it of their own volition.
Dispassionate, scientifically curious observers. Will frequently repeat an action several times to see if the results are consistent. Obsessively record their findings.
Tinkerers, always enthusiastic about trying out new things to see if they can achieve interesting results. Get bored very quickly.
Offended by the very concept of writing. Thoughts should stay in people’s heads where they can be alive. Trapping thoughts on paper is perverse.
Passionate body modders. Will often tattoo or pierce themselves impulsively. When wounded, will openly speculate about how they might manipulate the wound to heal in some cool-looking way.

Three

Cowardice is a virtue. Only a buffoon wouldn’t try to escape death by any means necessary. Offer violence only when you have overwhelming force, or using hit-and-run tactics.
The use of metal tools is deeply contrary to their spiritual beliefs. They are profoundly offended by anyone displaying worked metal, and at the very best, will treat them with the contempt due to a heathen non-believer.
Speak only in a sing-song. Rhyme as often as they can.
Animal slavery is an abhorrent practice to them. Only soulless brutes would ever bind an animal, or bend it to their will.
Will obey the will of any cat.
Observe a complex code of etiquette which no one not raised among them could ever hope to adhere to. Would agree with the phrase “Killing a person is no excuse for being rude to them.”
Do not use any footwear themselves, but find it to be a fascinating adaptation of other cultures. Can be used as a kind of currency among their people. Will be intensely interested in acquiring the shoes and boots of anyone they meet.
Due to some ancient insult, these creatures loathe wizards. Wizards know what they did. And, indeed, any magic users present do know. Talking about it will only enrage these creatures more, even if making an apology.
The most popular sport among them is competitive water diverting. They shift the course of rivers and compete in both time taken, and style points.
Every one of them thinks they’re a comedian. They enable one another with endless, grating laughter over the dumbest jokes.

Four

Intensely sexual. Will probably invite you to an orgy. If you get into a fight with them, no matter who wins, they’re going to enjoy it in ways that make you uncomfortable.
Are currently on a scavenger hunt. They need a leaf with 6 points, a rock that looks like it has a face, the ear of a sentient creature, and something pink.
Do a lot of weird drugs, and will probably do more of them during any encounter.
Believe that boats are a crime against nature. If the gods had intended folk to float upon the water, they’d have made us more like ducks.
It is an accepted fact that only they, and other members of their species, are really ‘real.’ Everything and everyone outside of them is a fiction, which exists only to make their lives more interesting.
Highly secretive about their own existence. Anyone who knows of them must somehow be prevented from spreading that knowledge. Some are held captive for the rest of their lives, others are merely discredited so no one will believe them, still others are simply killed.
Generally a brusque people. However, if they decide to kill you, they will first invite you to share a meal and conversation with them. It’s only proper to get to know someone whose life you will end.
Are voluntarily carnivorous as a society, having decided that it is completely unethical to eat any plant-based foods.
The goddess of fortune is their most culturally significant deity. They believe that any decision left to chance will result in the most harmony with the cosmic plan. Though, they do not consider it wrong to make decisions for yourself. It is an understandably selfish thing to do. Only the most devout would allow themselves to come to serious harm simply to satisfy the cosmic plan.
Have a rigid warrior culture that prizes honor above all things.

Fuck the King of Space: Players Guide v0.2

After the first couple months of play, I’ve updated and revised the player’s guide for FKOS. I’m actually kinda surprised by just how top-to-bottom the revision is. Pretty much every page has had some kind of significant tweak to the rules. Fundamentally it’s mostly the same stuff, but I’ve added a lot of little refinements that I think will improve play quite a bit.

Fuck the King of Space: Player’s Guide v0.2

Fuck the King of Space: Player's Guide

Have I ever mentioned that I wrote a miniature RPG book to help me run On a Red World Alone? It’s not the prettiest thing in the world, but it’s a good 25 pages of setting information and rules that I’ve slowly patched together over the two years that I’ve been running the campaign. I’ve kept it private, because it was never meant to be anything other than a personal reference document. Who would be interested in that?

Well, based on the number of people who read ORWA’s play reports, far more people are interested than I might have suspected. And now that I’m starting up a new campaign, it seems like a good time to also start being more open about some of this behind-the-scenes stuff.

So, if you’re interested, here is the 21 page player’s guide for Fuck the King of Space. I’m taking this new campaign as an opportunity to implement a lot of shit I’ve been thinking about, much of which I’ve talked about on the blog before. The document is less interesting for its novelty than it is for taking a lot of my ideas, and putting them together into a (hopefully) coherent whole. Though, there is some new stuff in there, and almost all of the old stuff has been streamlined or revised.

There’s also a lot missing, and that’s another reason I never shared the ORWA Player’s Guide. These are living documents, updated and changed as the game evolves. If this sparks any interest at all, I’ll be sure to keep the blog updated with newer versions as I write them. (Though, future updates will be announced as bonus posts, instead of serving as the main weekly post.)

Enjoy!

Fuck The King of Space Player’s Guide v0.1

d100 Unusual Shops in Town

Sure, every town has a tavern, and, like…a general store. But when your players enter a new town, and you tell them what they see, there should be something in there to pique their interest. Something that will make them look up from their phones and dice towers and say “Lets check that out!”

Some of these will have negligible in game consequences. Others are potentially campaign destroyers. Price things accordingly for your game world.

This post was suggested to me by Ms. Umquat, one of my Patrons.

A pixie blacksmith. Excels in making small objects, and doing fine detail work, but has difficulty making anything larger than a few inches in size. Refuses to collaborate on work with a human (or other “normal” sized) smith. She believes it demeans her craft.
A flubbertorium, where a madwoman won’t stop creating jar after jar of a strange elastic gelatin. The stuff is unnaturally bouncy. Once it gets going, it will absorb heat-energy from surfaces it collides with to actually increase the force of its next bounce. The nameless madwoman refuses to sell or use any of the jars, despite everything clearly being arranged as if this were a shop. She swears that her purple goo is a sentient creature, and that selling it would be slavery. There is no evidence this is true.
A luxury commode, where customers pay at the door in order to experience the most pleasurable excretions of their lives. There are fountains, attendants, hot towels, cushioned seats, and anything else that will make your pooping, peeing, menstruating, or other excretive activity a true joy.
You do not have to walk first down the dark corridors of a forgotten castle! You are entitled to refuse any request that you be the first to touch a mysterious artifact discovered in the temple of a dark god! Nobody can make you carry an undue amount of weight relative to your companions, nor can they retaliate against you in any way for dropping heavy bags or items while fleeing for your life. If these principals sound like pipe dreams to you, they are not! Collectively, adventurer hirelings are powerful! Collectively, we can negotiate for better working conditions from our employers! Join Local Hirelings 116!
An armor customization shop. They specialize in making plate armor look wicked awesome, but they also provide services for wearers of chain or leather armors. Basic colors and decals are the cheapest, but they can do chrome or silver plating, fancy engravings, or anything else a badass adventurer might be lookin’ for.
Chit Chit’s Taxidermy. The owner of the shop, a teenaged boy named Chit Chit, used to be a squirrel. A drunk wizard turned him into a human, and for whatever reason, he immediately opened a taxidermy shop. He’s very open about his origins, and not particularly intelligent. He doesn’t find it strange at all that his shop is filled with several dozen taxidermied squirrels. After all, he is human now, why should the lives of squirrels mean anything special to him?
Weathercrafter. For a substantial fee, people can pay to make sure the weather on a given day will be appropriate to their needs. Obviously, by the time the players arrive, many days will already be taken by other customers. The further in advance you want to schedule your weather, the more likely you’ll be the first to request that particular day. The weathercrafters themselves are happy to let you know which days are available, but, if you want to know what specific weather they have scheduled, you’ll need to purchase the most recent updates to their almanac.
A skeleton leatherworker. She’ll take any skins you bring her, and turn them into good quality leather. She can even produce a wide variety of leather goods: saddles, armors, purses, you name it. She just really misses having skin, and appreciates the opportunity to handle skin again, even if it’s not her own.
The local franchise of Bad Cemetery™. For a fee, bodies may be buried here, and during the next gibbous moon, they will rise from the grave as an undead creature. The resulting zombie will retain only a small fraction of its intelligence, but enough to communicate verbally in very basic terms. Its body will be decomposed to the point that it isn’t useful for anything but the most clumsy labor, and it will obviously be rotted beyond the point of fooling anyone into thinking it’s a living creature. Any zombies not picked up within 3 days of resurrection will be donated to the cleric school, to serve for turning practice.
The Hapless Players are a band of actors, musicians, and playwrights, who have a stage space here in town. They specialize in custom performances. For a reasonable fee, they will listen to a story you tell them, then write a play based on it, practice said play, and be ready to put on a public performance within 1 week. Of course, they keep any money from ticket sales, but you get the satisfaction of having your story disseminated to the masses by professionals. Very popular with self-aggrandizing politicians, and the dilletantic rich.
A recruitment center for an ecological terrorist organization named TSUNAMI. TSUNAMI believes that domesticated animals, like cows and horses, are polluting the world with their endless farting. It wasn’t a problem back in the day, but since humans domesticated them and put them all into the same areas, the effect has become more concentrated, and it’s killing the planet we all live on.
Beauty Crafters is a little shop run by a very large wizard. They specialize in crafting illusions that make their customers appear to be significantly more attractive. Creating disguises is strictly against their code of ethics here, all they do is take what you look like, and give you a much better version of that. The illusions themselves begin to degrade after about a day, with features becoming fuzzy or droopy, and finally failing completely after about a week. Prices are very reasonable, and they rely on repeat business.
The Otherworld Nursery is owned and operated by a strange woman named Luznk. She appears to be human, but her eyes are spaced just a little further apart than is natural. Her hair is an airy blue color, and she only has four digits on each hand. Luznk is from an alternate version of our own world, where everything evolved a little differently. She keeps it on the downlow, but at this point it’s basically an open secret around town. All of the plants she sells are from her reality. They’re similar to our own plants, but all are just a little bit unusual. It’s unclear how she got here, or how she gets new stock.
Arthur Bursley provides a humiliating final option for centaurs desperate to make some cash: provide centaur rides to humans. There’s a small track for children to ride on, while adults are able to rent a centaur to ride wherever they want, so long as they return within a set amount of time. Centaur society at large finds the existence of this practice despicable, and constantly endeavors to shut it down, without any success.
A monster trophy shop, where the taxidermied heads of horrible creatures can be purchased by cowards who want to brag about thrilling adventures, without actually going on any. Actual adventurers can make a little extra scratch here by selling the the heads of terrible monsters they’ve killed.
A brightly lit marble building, reminiscent of a museum, where experts perform impressive sexual feats. Onlookers may wander from room to room freely, and around the different performers to study their bodies and techniques. After each performance, the sexual experts will answer questions about how or why they did things the way they did, and how others could achieve a similar style.
A mysterious shop, where customers must pay good money to enter a little white room with two doors, two chairs, and a table. They are instructed, in no uncertain terms, not to open the other door. Within an hour of being in the room, the opposite door will open, and the customer will see themselves enter through it. Not quite themselves, though. It is a version of them from an alternate reality. The two can sit and talk for as long as they like. Once either leaves the room, the session is over, and the customer would need to pay again. Under no circumstances may either version visit the other’s reality. The meeting room is specially situated so as to avoid reality paradox. Because there are infinite realities, it is unlikely that you will ever meet the same version of yourself twice.
Adventuring Workshop. Ever wonder what the best way to mod a 10′ pole is? How long should you listen at a door before opening it? Which side of the sword is the one that kills people? Adventurers of any experience level can learn all this, and more! A good way for referees to impart advice about effective play to their group, without being overbearing about it.
Count Galzag may be a vampire, but the town has banded together to insist he stop feeding on the unwilling. In response, he has designed a blood extracting apparatus, and pays cash for each jar of blood a person will allow him to extract. The exact payment is based on blood type, and the overall health of the donor.
Being an adventurer is dangerous work, and you don’t want to leave your loved ones with a burden if you die. Necromatic Life Insurance has you covered. Here’s how it works: we implant a shard of The Hellstone just beneath your skin. (Which may cause a small burning sensation in a church, but nothing to be concerned about). In the unfortunate event of your untimely demise, the stone will temporarily animate your corpse, which will return here to us for use in necromantic rituals too horrible to be legally included in our advertising. In exchange, your family (or a beneficiary of your choosing) will receive a full cash payout to assist them in building a monument to your greatness, getting revenge on your murderers, or simply assuaging their grief with decadent luxuries! (Note: in the event of incineration, disintegration, or other deaths which may destroy the body, Necromatic Life Insurance would instead gain legal claim to your soul.)
When some asshole lays a wicked burn down on you, the shock of it may prevent you from coming up with any really good comebacks until it’s too late. Fortunately, the mistress of insults herself has got your back. For a modest fee, Umquat will extract one of the worms she gestates inside her brain, and allow it to crawl inside your own ear. Anytime you’re faced with a situation where a really good comeback is needed, the worm will be there to provide a constant stream of clever, unique insults. It’s almost as good as having Umquat herself right there with you!
Do you need to get from point A to B in a more timely fashion than you do now? Do you have problems with people from outside where you live, trying to get into the place where you live? Do your feet hurt from walking so far to get water each day? Then it sounds like you need a road, wall, or aqueduct. For this, and many other needs, visit Umquat’s Discount Infrastructure today! We will get the job done on any budget, within any time frame.
The Minotaur ballet.
Everybody has bad days, but not everybody has to live with it. If you’ve got the gold, we’ve got the power to send you back to the start of today, so you can fix what went wrong, or just enjoy everything that went right all over again. Just make sure to pay us as soon as you get back to the past. We’ll know if you’ve used our services and failed to pay for them.
You live a busy professional life! Ancient tombs and forgotten dimensions don’t plunder themselves after all. But what are you supposed to do with your adorable little crotch goblin while you’re out killing the normal kind of goblin? Three of your compatriots have got themselves incinerated, eaten, and un-made in the last month alone. That’s not what I’d call a child-friendly environment! Never you fear, though, Auntey Annabelle’s Daycare caters specifically to the adventurer lifestyle. We understand you may be gone for days at a time, or may not return at all, and can make accommodations for any such eventuality. And if you die, we certainly will not sell your child into slavery. Why would we do that? The pile of gold the underthings would give us for fresh human babies isn’t THAT big!
In the center of town is a large bulletin board, with tons of little subsections taped out on it for specific interests. People post all manner of things up on the board, from little details about their daily lives, to jokes, to angry political rants. Many folks in town pay a fee to be informed of any changes made by someone on their list of friends, so they can keep up with their pals. It’s all very complicated.
If you’re feelin’ lonely / because you are homely / or you drove your friends away / Just come and see Ashley / and as quick as a flash-ly / she’ll make you a new friend TODAY! (Ashley’s Intellification Services will turn any boring old item you’ve got into an Intelligent item. It won’t have any special powers, but it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to!) So come right down / to our part of town / this is not the time to delay! / Bring your pet rock / Or just a fuckin’ sock / we’ll give it life right AWAY!
You need corpses for purposes, nefarious or otherwise? Well I gots corpses and I don’t ask no questions. Just swing by the graveyard sometime between 1 and 4 am. Bring money, don’t bring no cops.
People like Toby the Town Crier. In uncertain times, he delivers news people can trust. And don’t you want a piece of that trust? For a modest fee, Toby is willing to produce what he likes to call “sponsored cries.” You give Toby a subject you’d like people to know about, and Toby uses his skills as a crier to make sure that happens.
Laria Mae is a reverse mermaid. She has the lower torso of a woman, and the upper torso of a fish. She wears a helmet filled with water so she can breathe on land. She has an office in town, where she works as a private investigator. She’s very good, but few people will hire her, because they think she’s weird.
Lets talk about magic items. I’m talkin’ about your flaming swords, your boots of swiftness, your rings of invisibility! Why wait until you’re rich, or until you get lucky and pull one out of a chest in some dungeon somewhere? The better way is R.T.O.: Rent To Own! And if you can’t keep up with the weekly payments, well…just make sure you don’t have that problem. It usually ends poorly.
Is you tiny human with no big humans that love them? Are you big human, who know a tiny human like this? All such tiny humans should live in Gobbo House! Gobbo House is a place for tiny humans, or human like creatures, to be taken care of by goblins who will love them! Goblins like teach tiny humans about goblin life, and goblin activities! So come, tiny, lonely humans, come to live in Gobbo House, where everyone is green on the inside!
Hey, listen, you need a kid for somethin? I don’t care what it is, you can put em’ to work in a mine, beat em’, eat em’, or hell, even love and raise them like your own. I run an orphanage, see? The cute ones get picked up eventually, but the uggos…well…lets just say I need to be creative about how I move them into ‘new families,’ and once they’re out of my care, what happens to them ain’t none of my business.
Tours of a haunted house. Like…a real haunted house. For really reals.
I’ll cut through the bullshit: adventuring is risky work, the rewards are high, but it’s a dangerous game. It can be a lot less dangerous if you go in with the proper gear and support, but who has the money for that kinda thing? The answer is that I do. I have the money. And in exchange for a little (a lot) of the wealth you bring back, and a little (a lot) say how you guys run your operation, I’ll put up the funds to get your whole group outfitted right off the bat. I call it Adventure Capitalism, and I think yous and I can make a lot of moolah together.
We’ve all done bad things. Things we regret. Things we wish we could take back, but can’t. Or can we? At the Official Office of New Identities, your past can be legally expunged from having any association with you. The person you were is marked “missing,” and the new person you’ve become gets to start life with a clean slate. So what are you waiting for? The fees are small, but the lines can get pretty long, so come in right away, before you get in trouble for whatever it is you did.
A play-dungeon gambling house. People pay 100sp to get in, and hope they can loot more than 100sp and make it out without being tagged by any of the (non lethal) traps or monsters they’ll encounter within.
Secrets of the Deep Forest is your one-stop-shop for all the hottest trends coming out of the Elven Lands. Owned and operated by actual half elves who will be happy to converse with you in whatever broken form of almost-Elvish you want to speak. Just in stock is Covenant: Archmagic Rising, the card game that the Elves just can’t get enough of. With cards newly translated into the human languages, now you can play too!
The Seamen’s Delight is ready to fulfill your wildest fantasies with our bevvy of lusty mermaids, eager to experience the love that only a man of the land can give them. (No refunds to those who realize too late the harsh realities of trying to have sex with a woman who has the lower torso of a fish).
Humans–have you ever been jealous of dwarf’s beard? Have you ever looked at the perfect braids and curls, the silky smoothness of the face hair, or the clever functions dwarf beards are often good for? Well put your jealousy aside and visit Crazy Curlog’s Dwarven Beardgroomery! Curlog himself is a master groomsmith, breaking the most sacred traditions of his people by servicing non-dwarves with his craft! It’s once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so come on down! (Any dwarven PCs should be informed that they are literally incapable of visiting this place, as it is so offensive to their sensibilities).
The Played Players have their own little theatre in town here. Their schtick is that they arrange a number of sets on ropes, so the environment can be changed with a quick close of the curtains. Each performance starts with a brief introduction to establish the setting and stakes of the story, after which the play’s protagonist will act according to the will of the audience. Whatever command seems to be agreed upon by most will be performed, and the other actors will react according to whatever character they inhabit. Sometimes the protagonist wins, sometimes they die, but it’s always entertaining.
Listen, the king? The king doesn’t care about your interests. The king doesn’t care about anybody but himself and his friends. And why should he? He’s never once had to go through an election. It’s undemocratic is what it is! Come on into our recruiting house, and join the democratic democrats, so we can finally vote this nonsensical monarchist out of power.
Every prophecy is 1 part foresight, three parts open-ended wiggle room. It’s all about the phrasing. So if you’re looking to predestine some particular event, just swing on by Carla’s Prophecies Plus. We’ll work with you to tailor a prophecy that fits your future needs, and disseminate said prophecy to the various oracles and fortune tellers of the land to make sure everybody knows that whatever business you got is inevitable.
Mr. Sanchez is writing a bestiary, to aide travelers in avoiding and defeating any dangerous creatures they come across. He’s set up a shop in town, and will pay good money for verifiable information about monsters. He’s no slouch in his research, though. If you bring him wild tales without any proof, he’s not gonna pay you anything.
Hello, my name is Janet, and as you can see, I am a bird woman. I have the wings and beak of a bird, but the arms and legs of a human. But, enough about me, let us talk about you, a human is is not half anything else. Particularly, you are not half anything that can fly, and this makes me sad for you. Flying is the best thing, and it is sad that humans cannot do it. To help you feel better about what must be very pathetic lives, I have dedicated myself to making kites, which you may fly in the wind, and try to imagine what it must be like to be a freer, more highly developed form of life. Perhaps, in this small way, I can help alleviate the constant depression you all no doubt suffer under.
Matilda the Magician has a little shop, with sign spinners in animal costumes outside. If you can provide her with a sample of an animal, she will transform you into that animal (killing the sample in the process). The more you pay, the longer the form will last. If you return to her shop in animal form, she will undo the transformation for you, but you will incur an early termination fee.
For a premium fee, people can visit this shop to receive advice from a fortune teller about some specific item they should make sure to carry on their person. The item is never anything too unusual or expensive, it’ll be something like a hammer, or a fishing line. Whatever it is, the player character knows, but the player themselves does not. Instead, the PC has a sort of “quantum item” in their inventory. Whenever the player wants, they can actualize the quantum item by announcing what they pull out of their bag. In the reality of the game world, the character has suddenly realized that THIS must be the situation the fortune teller predicted when they told them to carry…whatever it is that they’ve been carrying.
Every business is a volume business, and wine is no different. You make more, you sell more, you get more money. Sasquatch Pigeage understands that. You don’t need tiny-footed lollygaggers stomping your grapes at a snail’s pace, when you could have literal bigfoots getting your harvest flowing into those bottles, and out to your customers pronto. But speed isn’t the only benefit of using our services. We Sasquatches have carefully cultivated a unique foot fungus, which pairs excellently with wine, and will enhance the flavor of any bottle you cork with us.
Klex’kilistew is a the giant spider you need to get your construction or hunting project moving in the right direction. With my rapid and highly accurate web spinning abilities, I can get a basic lattice structure up in mere hours. Once in place, stacking your petty human construction materials becomes a breeze, and once the job is done, my webbing will dissolve naturally. No tricky cleanup! I’m also available to hunters. It may seem a little excessive, but if you can drive even one herd of animals into the web I spin for you, you’ll have meat enough to fill your tiny stomachs for a year!
Are you a creepy-ass religious guy who cares a weird amount about whether or not somebody is a virgin? Hey there, I’m Younai the Unicorn, and I’m willing to share my innate virgin detecting senses with you! One look at a woman, and I’ll know if she’s a virgin or not. I don’t know why you care, and I seriously don’t want to know. Please, do not try and tell me why it’s important to you, all it does is make me more sad that this is the only way I could find to pay the bills. So come on down, or, be a decent person, whichever one.
Are you feeling a little more chaotic than you used to? Does Evil no longer offer that same thrill it once did? We think of alignment as a strict 9-point grid, but it’s a tricky thing, constantly evolving over time as we grow and change throughout our lives. If these or similar concerns sound like something you’ve experienced, schedule an appointment with an Alignment Therapist today. We’re not here to fix you, just to help you understand where you want to fit.
A hair salon, owned and operated by a medusa. She has a great passion for the craft, and is deeply jealous of people with actual hair. She keeps her own bundle of snake hair wrapped up in a colorful cloth bundle. She’s not trying to hide what she is (that would be impossible. The bundle on her head is constantly moving). She merely doesn’t like the way her snake hair is constantly getting in her way and biting at things.
The office of D. Minstrel & Son, where folks can describe their feats of derring do to a talented, expert bard. Once an appropriate fee has been remitted (and the process does their due diligence verifying the rough outline of your claims), a tavern song will be composed extolling you for whatever it is that you’ve done. The song will then be given to one of the office’s traveling agents, who will make sure to sing it at least once at every tavern they visit. A typical contract lasts about six months, though longer contracts are available. (Though, be aware, if you overdo it, there may be a backlash).
A. Mueller-Finch Image Consulting is a firm that specializes in public relations for adventurers. Particularly those with some particular scandal plaguing their reputations. They help wizards who were a little too liberal with their fireballs, fighters who have had one too many squires die while plumbing a dungeon’s depths, and others who have fallen victim to the common folk’s lack of patience for the broken eggs that tend to occur when you’re making an omelette.
The town rec center, which offers all sorts of classes, activities, and sports to join! They’ve got everything from Negotiating with Dragons 101, to traditional halfling toe wars, to competitive labyrinth traversing (taught by a real minotaur), and basketball. And the best part is that it’s subsidized by the local parks budget, so the costs are very affordable.
The gallery of Vau, renowned elven papercraft artist. The delicate folding of paper is a much more developed artform among the elves than it is among humans. They’re obsessed with delicate, ephemeral art. It’s a sharp contrast with more traditional Elven art, and has been in vogue for several hundreds of years now. Vau will happily part with any of her pieces to anyone who can afford her hefty sum.
Sutherland’s Costume Shop is filled wall-to-wall with masks for every creature in the monster manual. For an additional fee, Sutherland himself will enchant the mask, so that wearing it creates the illusion that the wearer actually is associated creature. Rentals are for 3 days. Masks kept beyond this point grow bodies and demand a late fee from the renter, before walking themselves back to the shop. If necessary, they will extract their fee with violence.
Mordenkainen’s Marvelous Marvels is the melodramatic name of a fairly standard Fireworks shop. Mordenkainen himself doesn’t even have anything to do with the place. The owner just hopes that his little shop will go unnoticed by the great wizard. The name really does get a lot of business in the door.
Dinkie Rizzle’s Dinky Gifts is a store that sells novelty adventuring gear. The sort of stuff that sounds like a good idea, and might even be a good idea if someone put the effort in, but is slapped together so hastily, with so little thought, that it’s little more than junk. There’s stuff like wrist bands to prevent your sword from flying out of your hand, a wheel and crank for re-spooling rope, and a hip-holster that holds up to 8 iron spikes! Of course, here they only sell in bulk. If you want to purchase, you’ll need to find one of their many Dinky Entrepenuers, who sell this stuff at Rizzle parties. And, of course, if you’re interested in becoming an entrepreneur yourself, they’d be happy to set you up with a license, and a stock discount. But you know, the real money isn’t in selling this stuff yourself. All you gotta do is sign up 5 friends, and then they sign up five friends, and…
Roland Muke, Adventurer DDS, got very bored with his standard dental practice. Just making people’s teeth work the way “god intended” was fucking boring. That’s not why he got into the dentistry game! He got into it to BE a god! If you’ll let him work on your teeth, he’ll do something truly spectacular with them! Like give you razor teeth that grant a bite attack, or teeth with secret compartments in them, or teeth that can inject poison, or some other kinda crazy teeth that he hasn’t even thought up yet.
You have thing inside another thing? You want get thing out, but lock is hold it close? Maybe you don’t know what inside? Me Gurlak Skulleater, mighty troll. Me very good with little metal sticks, make open locks! You bring me gold, me open your locks! You need no question ask? No problem! Me no care about puny human shit. You come see me. Me open locks, make you happy, for gold.
Eternal Elegance is a party planning service, run by elves. They require their services to be scheduled no less than 18 months in advance, so they have an appropriate amount of time to understand the subtle nuances of your party before they even begin to plan it. Say what you will, they’re actually pretty good at what they do. You might expect an elven party planned for a year and a half to be a stiff, dry affair, but they really do take the time to understand what sort of party you want, and they deliver the best danged parties you’ve ever attended.
Do you like games? Is fun your idea of a good time? Do you love to be surrounded by blinking lights and loud noises? Whether you said ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ you should come on down to Don Harper’s Play Place! We got every type of fun you could ever want, with a fully stocked arcade and carnival games section! Win prizes! Eat pizza! Get indoctrinated into our evil sex cult! Throw a skeeball! Get a drink at our water fountain! What’s that? No, I didn’t say anything about a cult. What are you talking about? Don Harper’s Playplace is a all about good times and fun, and definitely not a secret front for recruiting vulnerable young people into an evil cult. That would be crazy!
A crudely made food stand, where a group of orcs are peddling their native foods. Almost all of it is meat based, though there are some intensely pungent fruits on offer as well.
A shop for fine ogre toe cheeses, harvested from fair trade, free range ogres, and aged to succulent perfection.
C. Baker & Co. is a candle shop. The owner, a man named Butch, claims to be the distant descendant of a Prometheus, the firebringer, though more likely he’s just a magic user with a peculiar talent. All of his candles emanate some minor magical effect while they’re lit. One reduces the chances a foe will be encountered, another increases it. Some of the more expensive candles provide a gentle healing effect to everyone within the range of its illumination, or create an atmosphere of sexual arousal, while some of the cheaper ones provide some nebulous benefit like “luck.”
Adventuring can wreak havoc on your love life! Sure it’s nice going from town to town, saving everyone’s lives, and drowning in gratitude sex for a few days afterwords, but after awhile that kind of brief encounter loses its luster. You want to look for someone you can come home to whenever your party passes through town. Someone you can start a family with. Someone who won’t mind that you’re away most of the year, and work in a profession that is both lucrative, and highly dangerous. Just fill out a profile, meet with one of our qualified professionals, and we can get you a date tonight with someone well suited to your wants and needs.
Tanner is the chillest dude there is. People are constantly coming into his shop with hides for him to tan, because his sign says “Tanner’s” out front. But hey, it’s no big deal, and he doesn’t want to shame anybody for making a simple mistake. So, whenever it happens, he just takes the hides down the street to the local tannery, pays to have them tanned, and brings them back to his shop so the person can pick them up. Tanner’s is actually a vegan restaurant.
Listen: the life of an adventurer isn’t easy. Who has time to clean all that blood and guts off your weapons and clothings when you’re too busy carrying armfuls of gold!? Worse yet, what happens when you encounter an adventuring opportunity in civilized lands, and wind up getting blood all over your neighbor’s carpet, or breaking the bishop’s favorite stained class window? That’s what Carl’s Cleaning is here for! We’ll lighten your gold burden just a bit, and take the grisly aftermath of your wanton violence, and make everything sparkle like new!
Whenever you tell your kid to hold a torch for you, the dang brat is always gettin’ distracted. They move their arm around, lean up against the wagon, complain that their arms are getting tired, and in general provide a terrible source of light. Who has time for that noise? That’s why you should visit Ted’s Terrific Torchbearers. Our highly qualified staff are the best there is at holding a light source to provide maximum illumination on whatever it is you need to be lookin’ at. We also offer special insurance for anyone who wishes to take our torchbearers into dangerous situations, so there will be no hidden fees if all you can return to us is a jar filled with goo that used to be an employee. So come on down!
An exotic butcher who sells human meat. Nobody knows how he gets away with it, but nobody ever hassles him about it. People don’t even grumble to one another in taverns about how they’d like to get rid of that shop. You might suspect that folks were afraid of becoming his next cutlet of meat, but nobody ever really goes missing under mysterious circumstances. So wherever he gets his meat, it isn’t here. The butcher also buys weird monster meat from adventurers, as it’s always nice to have some exotics to sell.
A baker who specializes in cakes for people to pop out of at parties. As you might suspect, this is a pretty limited niche to base a business on, and she’s burning through her savings in a reckless bid to keep the business afloat. Her most recent idea is to try and market her cakes to adventurers, as a method of carrying out a sneak attack. “Nobody will suspect a cake!” is her slogan.
A wagon wheel customizer. Has all sorts of affectations he can install on wheels: lights, decals, spinners, spikes, the list goes on! A big sign on his counter reads “NO discount for chariots.” It is unclear why that is the case, but he insists that they’re “just as much work.”
Dave McDanger (totally his real name) sells badass weapons. And when I say “badass,” I mean the sort of shit they sell in middle-American malls, to kids will use them to pose for awkward photographs in their parent’s back yard. You know the type: knives with random curves and spikes and points, invariably engraved with some lame dragon or spider. The one thing that makes Dave McDanger’s weapons different, though, is that Dave pays good money to have each of the weapons in his stock enchanted, so that they’re just as functional as a normal weapon of their type would be.
A shop which sells bait of specific monsters. Want to wrangle a wight? Hunt some harpies? Capture a cockatrice? Kill a Kobold, or even Trap the Tarrasque? Whatever it is, they’ve got the bait you’re looking for.
An information booth, for tourists, funded by the local lord. Employees are just on the creepy side of friendly, but are surprisingly knowledgeable about the area. They’re super forthcoming about stuff like the dark origins of local legends, the history of forbidden places, and generally any information you’d normally get from a reticent old man.
A young alchemist who has developed a fantastically effective hair gel, and has built a business around it. Her salon focuses on producing the most dramatic hair styles imaginable. Styles with huge 3′ spikes, or gravity defying curls, or even complex, sculpture-like shapes. And because of the robustness of her gel, the hair will actually keep its shape for weeks before needing to be restyled, even for someone who spends their time swimming, fighting, and sleeping on the ground.
Grusor is a former adventurer who got lucky early in his career, and was able to retire as a fabulously wealthy 24 year old. Now in his fifties, he’s got a lot of insecurities about his own meager accomplishments in life, and projects that onto younger adventurers. He hates them for being lazy, and for acting as though they are entitled to succeed in every adventure. He’s set up a little shop in town where he offers young adventurers a gift. If you accept a handicap of his choosing, and return from an adventure successfully, he’ll use some of his wealth to spread word of your deeds around, and you’ll double your bragging rights (experience points). He’s got a small team of professional handicappers on site, ready to make whatever device is needed to properly gimp anyone who takes Grusor up on his offer. Once applied, these devices are difficult or impossible to remove, though Grusor will happily do it in exchange for a “reasonable” fee.
The Living Mail service. Here’s the deal: they’ve got fully enclosed metal cases on wheels. Like slightly more spacious coffins. If you want to get somewhere, and you don’t want to deal with any fuss on the way, they’ll get the job done and you won’t have to deal with anything that happens along the way. Each character transported must be paid for separately, and the cost is multiplied by the number of encounter checks skipped.
“Steel House” is a prestigious social club, and you might be surprised just how many people are members. Even though this is the only location, folks who visit town from hundreds of miles away are often members in good standing. Getting into the club would instantly open doors for a person, no matter what business they’re in. Even adventurers will find the social connections they could make there invaluable. And, interestingly, application is open to anyone who can afford the rather paltry 25 gold fee. Too much for the average field hand, but hardly as prohibitive as might be expected. Once a person’s application has been submitted, though, they will be approached about their initiation. They will be instructed to carry out a series of unforgivable acts of depravity. Failure to perform will result in rejection of their application. Furthermore, to prevent them from revealing the club’s secrets, agents will be dispatched to ruin the failed applicant’s reputation beyond repair.
During quiet moments when god isn’t watching, who among us does not enjoy a good rub of the ol’ genitalia. But erotic literature requires so much imagination, and erotic paintings tend to fall flat. That’s why you should subscribe to the Erotic Statuary, the only place in town where you can browse a packed gallery of high quality, three dimensional artwork, specifically designed to inflame your ardor. Members will also receive a discount at our store, where you can purchase miniature versions of our life sized originals. Visit our preview gallery with 5 statues in it for free anytime, and if you need more, membership is very affordable!
A comedy club. 90% of the humor is about how the various races of the world are different from one another. In a world with literal different races in it, that’s a well that never really runs dry.
Is there anything bad going on in your life? Literally anything? It’s probably because of toxins. Our modern lifestyle is toxic, and those toxins are very damaging to your lower chakras. Fortunately, I can help. Hi there, my name is Pastor Doctor Flourchyld, and I’m an experienced colonomancer. What we do is very complicated, magical, and scientific, but the basics of it are like this: I take this here hose, and I put it into your butthole. Then I pump a bunch of water into your butt, until you’re all filled up with water, then I pump that water back out, and all your brown sticky toxins come out along with it. Of course, as I said, this is just a layman’s overview. You don’t get a title like “colonomancer” for doing something simple after all! Haha! So anyway, come on down, get tetoxified, and start living a better life…today!
Ms. Hope’s Schoolhouse is unique in this part of the world: free education, on offer to anyone, from any social class. Of course, the upper classes still hire private tutors for their children, but for children in the lower classes, this is a unique opportunity to make a better life for themselves…or so they think. It’s a well known fact that Ms. Hope is, herself, a wealthy aristocrat. Most people think she’s doing this out of the goodness of her heart, when in fact it’s just a prank. Everything she teaches the children is a useless lie, that will never help them to succeed in society. She and her society friends spend their evenings coming up with ever more ridiculous things she should teach the kids. And, as a side benefit, this will help keep the uppity poors in their proper place.
Have you ever been frustrated that no matter how many times you explain something to your cat, dog, or other pet/animal, it never seems to listen? That’s because animals don’t understand language, you dumbo. But, if you bring em’ on down to Theo’s Speech Therapy for Pets and Beasts, your troubles will be no more! Not only can our crack team teach your animal to understand what you say, we can teach them how to talk back to you, so you never have to wonder why they’re making all that racket again!
Do you have a person in your life who thinks about things in a bad, no-good way? Have you tried everything to fix it? The Brain Scrubbers have got you covered! If you can get the person down to our shop, we can wash their brain clean and make em’ think whatever you want them to think. (Many limitations apply).
A wizard carnival, with magically powered rides and games. Pimply faced teenage apprentices waggle their wands to operate zippers and tilt-o-whirls. Guided, high-speed flight spells are conjured by more experienced practitioners to create a roller-coaster like experience. Win prizes by knocking over a stack of bottles enchanted to be unusually heavy, or punching an illusory dragon hard enough in the snout to make his eyes pop out and ring like bells. For a few coins, peasants can even spend a few hours with an instructor wizard, who will try to teach them a simple cantrip.
A gardening shop that only sells one type of fern. Western Sword Ferns, to be exact. There’s nothing particularly special, or magical about this plant. The owner insists it’s just a really good fern, and he’s passionate about selling them. No, there isn’t anything else in the back room. In fact, there’s nothing to see in the back room! Stay away from there, it won’t interest you. No, I’m not acting suspicious, I just don’t like people talking about my back room. Hey, get away from that door!
Fladnag’s Travel Agency is the best way to get from where to you are, to where you’re going. With us, you’ll arrive quickly, safely, and most important, cheaply! For a single lump payment, we can arrange your transport with any wagon trains, ships, or other conveyance that will be required to reach your destination, as well as provide information about interesting locations you may want to visit on the way. And, this week only, anyone who books a trip with us will get a dozen free packets of our Gitgoin’ Instant Coffee! Just mix it into hot water, and one sip will have you awake, and running on your way to adventure. (Literally!)
If you’ve got a lot of ice in some kinda dumb shape, like a square or something, Ichabod’s Ice Sculpting can help you get it into a better shape. Like a swan. But, unlike some of our competitors, we can turn ice into shapes that are not swan shapes. Like a horse shape, or a triangle, or a flower maybe. Who knows? You do. You tell us what shape you like, and we’ll make your ice into that shape.
An adventuring thrift store. When players return to town and sell useless stuff like a jar of eyeballs that they took out of a goblin’s chest, this is where it ends up. The shelves are filled with cursed weapons, magic items with intensely stupid abilities, dungeon-specific items that have no use outside the place they were taken from, etc. Occasionally you’ll find some amazing bit of treasure that was overlooked, but most of it is very situationally useful at best. At least it’s all cheap.
A store for designer adventuring clothes. The auteur who owns the place is a sweetheart, but is absolutely relentless when it comes to advocating for her pet fashion theories. That the way we present ourselves is the most profound statement a person can make, that it’s the foundation of civilization, that the whole world could be improved if people knew how to communicate better through the clothes that they wear. She has a very 1980s aesthetic.
A few years back, Lord Salazar’s father struck his head while riding, and developed a severe case of amnesia. The thought of living without one’s own memories was so heartbreaking to Salazar, that he set out to do what he could to alleviate that suffering for others. He founded a spa, called “Home Again,” where visitors can describe some experience that a loved one who has suffered memory loss once had, and the staff will do their best to recreate that event for them, using stage props and actors. The fee for this service is surprisingly low, since the owner really just wants to make it as widely available to those afflicted with amnesia as possible. Of course, what most people do is get a friend to take them in, and describe that one time they had sex with a celebrity.
Are you a victim of injustice? Have you been accused of: criminal beard negligence? Mining too deep and/or too greedily? Public sobriety? For these, an many other problems, you don’t just need any laywer, you need a team with a proven track record, and an intimate knowledge of dwarven law. For that, there’s only one place to go: Gus, Gus, & LaRue is a firm that will get you the justice you deserve.
Are you fat, disabled, or otherwise being held back by your body? Do you want to experience the freedom of being nothing but spirit soaring through the cosmos, while resting secure in the knowledge that your corporeal shell is being safely guarded by a firm with over 12 guards, and a 6-year record without any body theft? Then come to Al’s Astral Projection just behind the tavern. We’ll get your spirit out of your body for a modest fee, and even put it back in again for FREE! (Terms and conditions apply. Free body return only applicable if customer returns withing specified time frame).
If the government isn’t working for you, it’s probably because you aren’t paying the right people the proper amounts. At the Office of Corruption, we specialize in connecting wealthy customers with needs, to government officials with empty pockets and flexible morals. Visit today to take advantage of our ongoing sale on getting out of tax evasion, building inspection, and murder!
Don’t throw your money away at the office of corruption. Why pay someone else to run the government the way you want, when you can just run it yourself? Revolution Inc. has the tools, the manpower, and the know-how to destabilize any government you need. Once the time is ripe, you can swoop in and claim power for yourself with minimal problems. Payment required up-front.
A druid selling random detritus from nature, like pine cones, and sticks, and jars full of pine needles. She always wished there was a store like this, and is completely baffled as to why business is so bad. Must be the economy.
A roadside stand, with a very attractive person sitting at it, beneath a sign that says “One for $5. Three for $12.” If the requisite amount is given, the very attractive person will unleash a torrent of customized, artisanal insults, perfectly catered to their best estimate of what your insecurities are.
Buy a page of the referee’s notes. 50,000,000 money.

Trick or Treating with NPCs

On Halloween, the players may approach any NPC in the game and ask “Trick, or Treat?” The referee should then roll on the table below to determine how the NPC responds.

Also, if you call Halloween “The Day of Ghosts” or “Spook Night” or any other uniquely fantastified non-name, you are a fuckin’ goober. Holidays aren’t copyrighted, why do people keep coming up with legally distinct versions of holiday names? It is dumb.

The Trick or Treater…

1. Gets a big bag of rocks.

2. Gets a big bag of candy!

3. Is afflicted with intense flatulence for the next few hours.

4. Will be an instant expert with the next musical instrument they get their hands on.

5. Is startled by a monster from the random encounter table, which pops out to spook them.

6. Will be able to breathe underwater for the next few hours.

7. Will only be able to breathe underwater for the next few hours.

8. Gets a bar of chocolate called “Save-U-Latr”. Eating it grants a +4 bonus to your next saving throw.

9. Gets a bar of chocolate called “Save-U-Latr”. Eating it grants a -4 penalty on your next saving throw.

10. Gains a +1 to their chance to get a random surprise round, until the next time they get a random surprise round.

11. Will get their bones broken the next time they’re struck in combat.

12. Will only take the minimum amount of possible damage from the next attack they are struck by.

13. Gets a Jack-O-Lantern stuck on their head. They can’t get it off until it starts to rot and get soft and squishy.

14. Has their clothes illusion’d, so they appear to be wearing a very spooky costume.

15. Is left in the care of a young child, which they must care for, or be arrested for criminal neglect.

16. Has their face painted in a colorful and fun way.

17. Is afflicted with an allergy to Dungeon Dust, which causes them to sneeze any time they’re in ancient places.

18. Receives a balloon animal of their choosing from the NPC.

19. Gets a spanking for some naughty thing the NPC saw them do. It is not the fun kind of spanking.

20. Is temporarily gifted with 5lb telekinesis.

21. Is recognized by someone nearby they owe a debt to, who wants them to pay up immediately and won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

22. Is absolutely perfect at climbing trees, until the following evening.

23. Is given the opportunity to weed the NPC’s garden, chop their firewood, and run a few errands in town for them. No takesie-backsies on Trick or Treats. Or else.

24. GETS A PONY!

25. Gets a case of the hiccups that just won’t quit. Each time they hiccup, little bubbles come out of their mouth. When they pop, they say the thoughts that the character never would have said out-loud.

26. Learns that they are unconditionally loved by someone in their life. And really, isn’t that the greatest treat of all?

27. Is cursed with a terrible haircut.

28. Is given a bag of magic seeds, which will grow into full grown crops in a single week, no matter the weather or the quality of the soil.

29. Is cursed, so that every chair they sit in for the next year will have a whoopie cushion on it. Even if they pause to remove the cushion, it will simply reappear on the chair when they do finally sit.

30. Will almost immediately be approached and greeted by someone they’ve always wanted to meet, but probably never would have had the opportunity to.

31. Has all of their teeth rot and fall out within the next few weeks.

32. Gets tickets to the carnival, an event more fun than it has any right to be. You’re seriously in for a pretty dang good time.

33. Starts to experience severe back pains, which reduces their encumbrance.

34. Is graced with an official title. It has little material benefit, but will be recognized and respected by everyone within the culture in which it was given.

35. Will be pooped on by birds. A lot. For a very long time. This character is suddenly a favored target.

36. A candied apple, which heals 2d8 hit points. Any hit points rolled above the maximum are gained as temporary hit points.

37. Has a face which, everyone will agree, is a very scary mask. Because they are ugly.

38. Will be transformed into a kid.

39. Is now in trouble with the authorities! The NPC called for them immediately. Trick or Treating is only for children, and any adult caught doing it is obviously some kind of deviant.

40. Will experience a My Little Pony style lesson moment, about the importance of friendship.

41. Gets a potato.

42. Meets a rat named Bently, who wants to be their friend.

43. Is given a coupon book for the goods and services local to the town. The coupons are all very confusingly worded, and have obtuse requirements that make them a huge pain in the ass to use. Some are expired.

44. Receives a magic hat, which makes them an expert at ice sculpture.

45. Is cursed so that, any time they walk through a town, they will be struck by falling garbage and emptied chamber pots from the windows above them.

46. Gets an excellent toy doll, with articulated joints. It’s the best toy ever.

47. Learns all the gossip their companions have been saying about them behind their back. The referee is free to make up whatever they want, so long as it’s likely to hurt the Trick or Treater’s feelings.

48. Receives a book on the subject of local myths and legends. (After reading it, the player is free to ask the referee 4 questions on the subject, and have them answered with complete honesty).

49. Must make a mandatory visit to the dentist.

50. Is given a temporary tattoo, which glows with cool runes and shit.

51. Will probably be surprised when the NPC disappears into a puff of smoke.

52. Gets a good wash from the NPC. They really get in there with a brush and make you smell nice.

53. Will be pelted with rotten eggs.

54. Is blessed, such that the next monster they meet will be friendly.

55. Gets scolded by the NPC for wearing such low visibility clothing on such a dangerous night. Is forced to wear a reflective vest which will ruin any attempt at stealth.

56. Is given a glass of unpleasant-tasting vegetable juice. It’s not fun to consume, but once you’ve got it down, you feel completely reinvigorated. You don’t need to sleep again for 2 days, and won’t take any penalties at all from doing so.

57. Will be transformed into a goblin for the next 48 hours.

58. Receives a paper mache mask, which is shockingly convincing as the face of some other creature, but is very fragile and will break easily.

59. Has their gender swapped.

60. Discovers that undead creatures are friendly to them, until the next time they harm one.

61. Has all of their meaty-bits turn transparent, so that they appear to be a walking skeleton. I call them Skello-persons, which is legally distinct from any similar, Carcosan entities.

62. Will be overjoyed when that one really weird, fucked-up sex thing that they’re into becomes completely commonplace until the next full moon. Everybody will be talking about it, and be eager to do it. Later it will be regarded as a fad.

63. Knows that their mother is mad at them. They don’t know why, but she is, and she might yell at them at any moment.

64. Is blessed, such that people they meet regard their opinion of high importance, and will be very interested to know the character’s thoughts on just about any subject. This effect gradually fades over the course of a week.

65. Will be chased by a pack of ravenous dogs. (10 per level of the character)

66. Will be chased by a pack of adorable puppies (3 per level of the character)

67. Drugs lose all of their effects for this character. They become forcibly sober, because nothing can get them buzzed.

68. Just once, if they jump out of a glass window, they can land wherever they want, and can roll just right so that they only take 2hp of damage. 1 from the glass, and 1 from the fall.

69. A cloud of rain forms over the character’s head, and will follow them around wherever they go.

70. The next time they would die, it was all a dream. They wake up in their bed.

71. All foods affect the character’s mind as if they were drugs, causing them to exist in a constant haze.

72. Must choose an animal. All instances of that animal, all over the world, can now fly. If they could already fly, then now they can swim. If they could already fly and swim, then what the fuck, they can teleport.

73. Birds can talk now, but they only speak to the Trick or Treater, and all they ever do is talk shit.

74. The next harmful spell the Trick or Treater would be affected by is warped, so that the Trick or Treater is instead granted Protection from Evil.

75. Their nose gets all big and warty.

76. Becomes significantly more attractive. Two or three points up on a ten point scale, at the very least.

77. The next time they would run, they run as if they were underwater.

78. The NPC tells them that their next attack will be “a little more effective than normal.” Their next attack will be an auto-hit, auto-kill, no matter what their target is. Under no circumstances should the player be aware of the full potency of this treat.

79. Every coin in the Trick or Treater’s possession goes down by one denomination. Gold becomes silver, silver becomes copper, copper becomes stone, etc.

80. The next time you sleep, you dream of reading that book you’ve been meaning to read. When you wake up, you have all the knowledge of the book, as if you had read it.

81. Gets their shoes tied together.

82. Is empowered with the skills of an expert tapdancer.

83. Is cursed, so that their weapon becomes stuck in its scabbard during the next combat.

84. Is blessed, such that everything the Trick or Treater eats tastes like candy.

85. Hands become so sticky that anything they touch becomes stuck to them until some water is poured over their hands.

86. Receives a really comfortable pair of shoes, which will make all of their traveling around much more comfortable. There’s no mechanical benefit, but dang, it’s just a way nicer way to adventure, ya know?

87. From now on, whenever they sleep, their dreams will appear floating above their heads for anyone nearby to watch.

88. For the next few days, all reaction rolls are made at a +1. Everyone is just being kinda cool to you, yo. It’s the harvest season, and people are just kinda chill, ya know?

89. A serial killer has decided that you need to be their next victim. They’re stalking you now, and they’ll come for you next time you’re alone.

90. The NPC casually hands over some item or piece of information which significantly advances the players along some quest they were already invested in. It doesn’t solve the whole thing for them, or anything, but it will sure make their lives a whole lot easier.

91. Your butt falls off. There is no longer any way for you to sit, or to fart, or to poop, or to enjoy the pleasures of anal stimulation.

92. The NPC relates some information regarding a small inheritance the Trick or Treater is entitled to. All they need to do is go claim it from the executor of their great aunt’s estate.

93. The NPC calls out for help, claiming that the Trick or Treater attacked them with great violence.

94. The NPC passes along info regarding a friendly water Nymph, who is currently fed up with other nature spirits and wants to make some human friends.

95. A bag of tasty tasty popcorn, a kernel of which gets stuck in your teeth, and will remain lodged there FOREVER, giving you uncomfortable mouth pressures.

96. The NPC offers to do your laundry. They’ll do a really good job of it, too. It’ll all feel very soft and warm when they’re done.

97. Dogs no longer trust the Trick or Treater, which is bad, because people always put an undue amount of faith in whether or not a dog likes a person.

98. The NPC offers comfortable accommodations for the night, complete with soft beds, privacy, and meals.

99. The NPC offers to perform oral sex. They are really, really, painfully bad at it.

100. The Trick or Treater is entitled to one Wish.

d100 Materials your Post-Apocalyptic Armor is Made From

For each piece of armor found, roll once or twice on the table to determine what materials it’s made from. Everything on this list is super realistic. If you find something you think is unrealistic, it’s just because you don’t understand something that I do understand. Because I am a very smart boy.

Street signs, such as “Stop,” “Yield,” or “Children at Play.”
Car body pieces, like the hood, doors, or bumper.
Rubber tires.
Sheet metal
Leather, perhaps in the form of an old world jacket, or something tanned in the post apocalypse. In the case of the latter, it may be human leather.
Chain link fence.
Cookware, like pots, pans, or baking sheets.
Layered silverware or cutlery
Plywood, probably from some old Ikea furniture.
Books of any sort. Paperbacks or magazines work just as well as hardbacks or coffee table books. Don’t underestimate the stopping force of layered paper!
A weave of cables and wiring.
Folded duct tape.
Regular old-world clothing, like a T-shirt, but stacked in layer upon layer upon layer until it’s formidable armament.
Protective sports equipment, like football shoulder pads, hockey goalie leg pads, or a BMX biker’s helmet.
Bones from various creatures, animals, beasts, and humans.
The carapace of a giant, mutated insect.
Soles from old shoes.
Old plumbing pipes, made of metal or PVC.
Carpeting torn up from a floor, possibly layered to make it thicker.
Cut-up metal cans, like you would use for paint or oil, or Campbell’s soup.
Children’s plastic toy armor.
Ludicrous cosplayer armor, which can be made mostly functional if you cut off all the extraneous spikes.
Some piece of medieval reenactor armor. It’s probably not actually made of metal, or if so, it’s probably not made terribly well.
Real medieval armor. Before the apocalypse, this would have been a valuable historical artifact.
Police riot gear, well preserved from the per-apocalypse.
Chain link made from belt-buckles.
An old robot chasis that a human can squeeze themselves inside of.
Animal cages.
A lifejacket
Old AOL disks, pinned together.
Motorcycle safety gear.
Safety gear from a construction site, like a hard hat, gloves, or reflective vest.
Welder gear, either the mask, or the heavy apron.
One of those lead-lined aprons dentists put on people when they X-Ray them.
Firefighter PPE.
Wicker, probably taken from some old patio furniture.
Soft, thick pads, like pillows, couch cushions, or even just a comforter.
License plates
Chainmail made from carabiners
Old, discarded plaster casts, like the ones used to keep a bone straight while it sets.
A woven mesh of nylon rope.
Old BDSM fetish gear. Some of that shit is fuckin’ sturdy, and you’re not in any position to be picky.
A Halloween costume.
Old bullet casings, strapped together in rows.
Video game cartridges, pinned together.
A trash can.
Hair from humans or horses, woven into thick sheets.
The skins of old deflated sports balls, like basketballs and footballs.
A satellite dish.
Soda can tabs. That’s what the armor worn by the woman in the image above is made from.
Twigs, strapped into rows.
Three ring binders.
Tin cans.
A hollowed out part of a taxidermied animal.
LEGO bricks. Particularly some of the large flat plates.
The boards from board games.
Trading cards of various types, from baseball to magic the gathering.
Nerf.
Stuffed animals.
Plastic plants, such as fake ferns.
Computer parts, like circuit boards, keyboards, chassis, and CRT monitor housings.
Food containers from the world before. Stuff like cereal boxes, or chip bags, layered together.
Rulers and yard sticks, held together with pins.
Window blinds.
Clothes hangars, interlocked with each other.
Silicone sex toys: dildos, butt plugs, vibrators…
D&D 3rd edition splat books.
Clip boards.
The backboard from a basketball hoop.
Cardboard boxes.
Cleaning gear: rubber gloves, dustpans, or the heads from brooms and mops.
A piece of some kind of experimental body armor from the pre-apocalypse. It looks like it was made by a doomsday prepper with more money than sense.
Broken bits off of plastic shopping carts.
One of those layered cardboard scratchers they make for cats.
Bicycle parts, like the wheels, handlebars, or chain.
Wine cork lamellar.
Library card lamellar. (Also “club cards” from big box stores, or credit cards).
Safety glass, probably pulled out of a door from a school.
Matchbox cars.
An old folding table.
Giant letters that used to form the name of some long-forgotten business.
Mail made from fidget spinners.
Smartphone cases.
Old metal tonka toys.
Roofing shingles.
Horse shoes.
Hula hoops and jump ropes.
Discarded plastic bottles.
Circular saw blades.
Dozens and dozens of “unbreakable” combs.
Cheap costume jewelry: rings and bracelets interlocked into mail, draped bundles of necklace chains, and so on.
Cardboard tubes, like the ones from toilet paper, paper towels, and wrapping paper.
Vinyl house siding.
Steel medical brace.
Shovel heads.
Fan blades
Cutting boards.
Dumb, cheap, fantasy weapons. They’re so ridiculous that nobody can actually use them as weapons, so they’re trying to put them to use as armor.
A dartboard.
Something crazy valuable that the “armor smith” apparently didn’t realize was valuable. Like a working gameboy, a floppy disk with secret information on it, or a bit of wood with a treasure map singed into it.