A horrible symbiote of fungus and tree. All it needs to move and breath is some flesh…
Solitary (1d10 damage 12hp) 3 armour, slow [static], terrifying, large
It starts with a dying tree, crying out in pain. (Trees can feel pain, just not in any way that’s easy to understand. Druids know this, but can’t do much about it save lament the circle of life, and other mutterings. There’s a good reason most druids go mad.)
Mirkasa is a cold, bleak place. A jagged mountain range dominates the northern coast. The isolated islands beyond are almost impossible to reach, being surrounded by vicious seas and dangerous whirlpools; but it is said the island of Jakabol, birthplace of the giants, can be found there.
The northern range is capped by Gnolgorroth, one of the tallest mountains in the world. An entire culture, the Gnolgi, once lived below this peak. A mysterious calamity – rumoured to be of the Gnolgi’s own making – drove them onto the surface, where they have re-settled with their surface-dwelling neighbours. The two cultures have had much to offer one another, and Mirkasa as a whole has prospered; but only the most naive would believe the two peoples exist peacefully.
Strange rumours abound of odd folk and freshly-discovered treasure amidst the quiet fields of Middenvalley. What can be found in the ruins below? Who are the ratty-folk, and why do the Middeners want them dead? What became of the village of Sorrowchurch? Let’s play to find out.
Thank you to everyone offering their input on the work in progress earlier this month!
So it’s a bit after Christmas… but if you’re still tucking into Turkey and enjoying the holiday season, you could do worse than have a go with this stocking filler, designed for all good OSR or Dungeon-Crawler titles! Ho ho ho!
…Wow. That came out a lot more sales-pitchy than I expected. In all seriousness, I had a blast playtesting this one last week. If you’re not too zonked out from the holiday season, I hope you will too!
It’s the end of an era and your doom is at hand. Your hated foes have infiltrated the city from below; even now set the watchtowers and barracks aflame while the city sleeps. If there is to be any chance, you must run the gauntlet of the streets and ring the alarum bell, rousing the city to battle.
Image credit: Knightess by Typesprite (DeviantArt)
Klare is already there when I arrive for our interview. We meet in Bryne, in a quiet cafe in the artist’s quarter. Bryne is a prominent university town, known to be suffering from a blight of mutant creatures the locals call half-breeds.
