Thug Muggers in the Sewers 4/6/24
Table Talk:
Brooke/Ari and Ashley/Sorin were looking over their gear and decided to make a swap. Ari will now have the Circlet of Blasting – since Sorin can’t wear it on top of his goggles, and Sorin will take Ari’s Cave Bag of Tricks – since Ari had two.
I gave all the players a simple heads up; “I have no idea where you guys are gonna go, so i have very little prep done for wherever it might be”.
“What good’s a god who gives you everything you want? [...] It’s the hope that’s important. Big part of belief, hope. Give people jam today and they’ll just sit and eat it. Jam tomorrow, now—that’ll keep them going forever.”
-Albert –Terry Pratchett, “Hogfather”
🚪👻🛡️🎲🗡️🔔✨🌿Chapter 13: Creative Chapter Title
🚪👻🛡️🎲🗡️🔔✨🌿Chapter 13: Creative Chapter Title
The dream used to make her sad, but now it just makes her angry as she waits for it to finish so she can wake up. The older woman in the dream is crying.
Disgusting.
Weak.
Tears aren’t weakness, Zaanth has learned this through the rough school of hatred. This weakness is simple and base. The silly little woman is giving up on everything, refusing to stand up and fight. That weakness, means that she’ll wake up with the taste of vomit in her mouth.
The little girl in the dream – the little girl she used to be – is scared. Zaanth rolls her eyes inside as the pathetic kid asks what's wrong. Her mother starts to explain again about losing status and grace, and parliament and how she can’t be a princess anymore and - gag!
Through sheer willpower and disgust, Zaanth wakes herself up. She spits out the bile, and reaches out in the darkness for the cage. One of the creatures wiggles under her hands and she lifts it up. It crawls under her fingers, squealing and struggling to get away. There is a wet crunch as her teeth bite in and the dying thing hisses out its final scream.
The dream used to make him sad, but now it just feeds his resolve.
Bostra’s face is solid and stern in the stem – secret high room of the golden berry palace. Even though the serene placid face of their – no HIS, from here on out, is his, ‘not theirs’ anymore.
Even though the serene placid face of his sibling is scolding and reprimanding him, he can see the distraught and hurt inside.
Despite the effort to maintain calm, Bostra can feel the crack of a smile inside. This was HIS decision, and they-HE knows it was the right one.
Deep in the sewers, Bostra nods in his sleep at the memory as the dream of his young self gets scolded.
Soon they’ll have to go down stairs and kill him.
They will cast him out and disown him. They will lose a brother as surely as if he had died in battle. They’re right, it’s not fair to do this to them. But it needs to be done. He knows the soft tender love hidden under that mournful calm. He can remember playing in the garden, eating stolen cakes on the roof, and studying the old maps together. But soon those memories will only bring grief to them both. As they turn to lead him to the main hall, they stop and touch Bostra’s hand.
A thousand things that could never be spoken aloud are all crammed into that one little touch. Gratitude. Love. Remorse. Pride. Horror. Pain… It’s almost enough to break through his resolve and keep him from dying.
Bostra swallows back their-HIS own pain, and stands. He walks down the stairs to his own royal burial.
Bostra nods and wakes up. On watch now, Cypress’s attention is drawn to the noise as he pulls a lump out of his bag and tosses it in his mug with a clunk. Then he spits on it a few times and sticks his finger in. He spreads the thin yellow foam on his chin and takes out his pen knife. With his eyes closed he slowly shaves his face.
We are down in the sewers, in one of the small rooms with a few mechanical pieces next to the big drain pipe that leads up to the city, and down to whatever lies beneath the sewers.
Sorin is the first one to wake – or at least to come up to consciousness since he doesn’t truly sleep. He sees the others are still dozing while Bostra is shaving. Cypress is facing the other way now, giving everyone some privacy under the pretext of staying on watch, and he takes the chance to change into his spare robes. He pulls off the tattered and hole ridden tunic that the Pudding ate away and tries to keep his skinny chest covered with his arms. Embodying the embarrassment of all timid young men who have to change in front of the other kids in gym class, he pulls the fresh tunic on first before untying and stepping out of the worn out breeches, letting the tunic hang over his middle and thighs before he pulls the new pants on quickly and ties them up into place.
He turns around bashfly, half expecting some middle school bully to be pointing at him, but everything is still calm and all his friends are just dozing. Sorin breathes a sigh of relief and rolls up the clothes, pushing them into his pack.
Bump.
“Hrmm…”
Bump.
“Ff tr ch…”
Bump.
“Hhuh?”
Rae’s eyes open as her staff softly bumps between her cheek and her shoulder again. It’s floating in the air, looking like a night guard dozing against a wall. The little rhythm as it lists back and forth almost looks like snoring. She smiles warmly at it, then uncomfortably backs up the wall, and ducks low on the floor to get out from under the stick without touching and disturbing it. Then after she straightens herself and her clothes she gives the staff a very gentle pat and lets it rest while she goes over to the others.
Ari squints her eyes tightly closed and lifts her arms, her legs shake as she stretches her whole body as if trying to hatch a new set of bones inside her limbs (thank you, Nymbus, for introducing us to this turn of phrase). She instantly regrets it. Every muscle in her body aches and she groans as she sits up. ‘Oh yeah,’ she thinks, ‘yesterday was rough, no wonder I’m sore’. She stands up and feels the ache getting even deeper. ‘Plus I, like, actually died, so of course it’s gonna be worse than normal.’ She starts strapping on her gear and an intrusive thought that sounds uncomfortably like one of the Gazer’s, hisses inside her head ‘Plus you have the Gas Spore sickness, so you’ll die in six days … or is it fine now.’
She groans again, and feels the ache tighten. Maybe it’s just psychosomatic, but she can almost feel the gritty texture of the spores inside her muscles as she moves.
Give me a quick Wisdom Check, there, Ari. 17.
As she ties on the frog for her new super fancy rapier on her belt, Ari turns away and then remembers. She picks up the old sword that Sorin gave her, looking at it with vague unsure eyes. Then she folds its leather frog over and ties it to the side of her pack, out of the way.
Hearing everyone up and moving for a few minutes now, Cypress turns around to greet the party for the morning. They catch Bostra’s eyes as he finishes his shave.
Looking a little sheepish, the older gnome offers the cup and knife to Cypress’s as if he’s been caught forgetting his table manners. The hobbit smiles, grateful for the gesture, then rubs their own peach fuzzy chin and shakes his head. It'll still be a few years before he needs to shave more than once every few weeks.
Bostra nods, takes the lump of mentholated soap out of the mug, scurrying it on the knife to dry, and then rinses the rest of the oily suds out and dumps the cup into the nearby drain.
Cypress gets out the kettle and starts making tea for everyone, getting out a few of the Nature Clearing™ Oats and Honey Crunchy Ration Bars. We sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping tea, and brushing crumbs off our shirts while trying to bite and crunch through the rations. The primitive granola is like hardtack, but the tea helps loosen it up some.
After a bit, Cypress decides to use their Inspiring Leadership Feat and talk everyone up for the day. “So what all do we have left? Someone made a list right?”
Ari fumbles in a pocket and pulls it out. She takes a second to unwedge a bit of oat covered honey stuck in her gums, then reads, “Talk to Matteo – we put that one on hold for now.”
“Yeah,” Sorin chimes in, scooping some crumbs into his hand, “I sent him the poster with the message.”
“Find Pulgrok. Find Belgruuse.” Ari hesitates and coughs sheepishly, “Uh… Don’t die…”
Bostra chuckles, “Well if you count yesterday-”
“Mechanical rooms,” Ari plunges on, trying to cover her reddening embarrassment under a layer of to-do list, “to get the sewers limping along again. Uh, find Zaanth…”
Sorin titters and nudges Rae, “We’re gonna go see your girlfriend.”
Rae growls.
She stares the wizard dead in the eyes and bites clean through the ration bar.
Sorin goes pale and looks down at the bar he’s still trying to break in half.
Ari keeps going, “Find more Thug Tunnels and eliminate as much as we can. Swap out the Gibbering Mouthers. Find the Oracle, which we still don’t really know anything about. And find the merchant, which, well ditto.” She reads off the last couple points and puts the grubby paper away.
We sit in silence again with a few cracks that are probably just chewing, since no one spits out any broken teeth yet.
Cypress nods, “We’ll start making a plan, but first,” he stands up.
With his hands behind his back he smiles at each of them in turn, “I want to say that I think we all did quite well yesterday. Truly. Yes, we had our failings, and yes, we needed to prepare more. But, we held our own against difficult odds. Like a tree growing in a rock crack on the side of a sheer cliff, everything we face now is a challenge. But, the fact that we continue to grow is itself — a triumph!” He nods and paces a few steps, “Our greatest difficulty yesterday was facing surprises without forethought or preparation… as Bostra was generous enough to point out last night.” They cut the air with a knife-hand landing in their open palm. “So today we prepare. We plan. We assess.” (Reader, I tried to get Nymbus to give me some kind of pep talk or something, but got nothing so i had to come up with all this myself – if it’s bad blame me and not him). He nods at their determined faces, “We start by looking at yesterday, is there anything that happened that anyone feels they should share?”
Silence.
More silence.
Ari raises a nervous hand, “I found a new rapier yesterday. It has a Life Stealing spell, so I’m going to be using that instead from now on.”
“Oh,” Sorin looks dejected.
“I plan on selling the old one to Devin when we see him next. Then Sorin, I’ll give you the money from it.”
Sorin blinks at her and Rae looks puzzled, “I thought you loved that sword.”
Ari shrugs, “This one’s just better.”
“Like a week ago you went waaay out of your way to protect it. Like you were obsessed with it.”
“And now I have a new one that I like more,” Ari’s face is mildly frustrated like she’s explaining something simple to children who aren’t getting it.
“So we’ll contact Devin first thing,” Cypress says, taking charge again. “I need new armor as well. Then which task are we headed to next? Let’s see the map.”
“We were going to the mark here, “Ari says, grateful for the change of subject, and pointing to one of Guruuuuhckck’s stamps on the map. “Then I think the plan was to move north to the green room here.”
“Good,” Cypress scratches their chin. “We can move through the cave after we trade with Devin, and then tZulèe can meld with the wall around the door here,” the point, “to give us an idea of what is inside.”
Bostra nods, “Sounds like you guys are taking this seriously. Good job.”
“tZulèe,” the cleric looks at the ground and starts picking up a handful of pebbles and rocks, “did you find something to eat?”
When we turn around we see the gargoyle with a guilty look on its face. tZulèe is holding one of the bricks that Bostra and Ari crowbarred out of the wall of the first Boiler Room yesterday morning. It looks like a thick hoagie sandwich in front of its open mouth. There is a guilty crunch and the gargoyle nods.
“I have some herbs to make it taste better,” Ari chuckles, “if you want.”
“WAIT! STOP EVERYTHING!” Nymbus and Cypress scream in unison and instantly start rummaging through their bags, “I have the stuff, the gargoyle seasoning rock powder stuff I found like two years ago!”
Cypress pulls out the sachet of Mrs. Rush’s Troll Medley: Rockoning Blend (With no Sulfur) he found way back in Thug Muggers 8/21/22 and sprinkles some on the brick for tZulèe.
That’s so great that you remembered that. I tell you what, you can pick: either take a point of bond, or inspiration.
After the gargoyle finishes its breakfast, we gather around the familiar graffiti of Devin’s monogram, and Cypress thumbs a copper coin into the hole there, which disappears in a sudden puff of smoke.
Devin appears in a sudden puff of smoke which smells faintly of steamed rose. When the smoke clears we see the strange Lizardfolkin with his right arm up and out to one side, and his other two arms down, folded over his heart… hearts? His chest. His tails are curled around him and both heads are graciously bowed.
“Awe, Sire Grathum!”
“Your lordship,” both heads say at once.
"How may I assist the courts of-'' one head looks up and stops, then the other looks up and says, “Wait, this isn’t the eastern tropics.”
The first head picks up the thread, “Damn. Okay, Thug Muggers, what do you want today?”
After a bit of the old question’n’haggle, Cypress buys a barely used Armor of Resistance. It’s a shirt and tasset (the short waistlet that hangs in flaps over the thighs), made of hyde ringed leather with a few lamellar splints of metal riveted on in places.
For mechanical purposes, we’ll treat it as the Chain Shirt variant.
Nymbus: “Sweet that brings my AC to 15.”
*mischievous grinning* Go ahead and roll a D10, and we'll see what resistance it has.
Nymbus: “7.”
…
Nymbus: “Oooo what if it’s Poison Resistance!”
Dammit… It could’ve been lightning or force, which you guys never encounter.
Nymbus: “What is 7 though?”
… Go ahead and read it to them *shows the chart*
Nymbus: “YEAH! Poison Resistance! Awesome!”
Sorin tries to sell the Gas Spores he recently collected, but when Devin quotes him only 1 gold, he passes.
Ari sells her old rapier for 110 gold and gives the coins to Sorin.
When Rae offers up the four Gazer eye stalks, Devin gives a devilish smile. Instead of inspecting them, he slides them over each of his fingers like bugle nails. Then he tries to jump scare everyone by thrusting his arm out yelling BOO in a Gazer-y deep voice. The eyes slowly flop over around his outstretched hand. He gives Rae 20 gold for them and 10 gold for the Gazer jaw.
When Rae offers up the Zombie Dust, Devin gives a warm smile, “I used to know a song about something like that…'' and gives her 5 silver.
Rae then buys a Cloak of Protection for 130 gold.
At the last second Ari remembers her other major loot. She holds up the two joined ribs and Sorin goes pale. They’re still a mess, but the blood has dried on them at least.
Devin looks up at her. One head sighs and the other explains, “Ari, if I want ribs, I can go to a restaurant, you know.”
His right head says to itself, “There are still some places off-continent that still do good human these days.”
The first head continues, “And anyways, there’s no sauce left.”
With a snap, the right hand and head point at Sorin, “Hey, don’t look at me like that, lots of humans still eat lizards!”
The first head continues, “See, Ari, the true joy of really good barbeque lies in the sauce…” His tongue lolls and he slurps. “I can sell you a good barbeque cookbook for 13 silver, Ari.” He starts rummaging in his pack.
“Um…” Ari looks nervous, and decides to throw her friend under the bus, “Cypress usually does most of the cooking…”
“I can sell you a good barbeque cookbook for 13 silver, Cypress.” Devin offers, still drooling.
“I’m good, but thank you, Devin.”
“You sure?”
The other head slurps and chimes in, “I’d give you a good deal on any meat you cook up for me.”
“I’m sure, thank you. But before you go I have a question for you. ‘Why do paladins prefer chainmail?’”
Both heads rotate inward and talk to each other, “Well most paladins aren’t cavalry or generals.” “Exactly. They tend to be up in the fray, as it were, for glory.” “Yes, so they don’t have to worry about arrows.” “There is pikes to think about though.” “Pfft. No paladin would ever fall to the pike rankman.” “True. plus-”
Cypress cuts in to stop this from going on forever, “Because it’s holy!”
The joke lands hard on Devin and he stands still for a moment, then shudders. Both his mouths stay closed and we hear, “mmm very good.” echo from somewhere.
After being dismissed by the group, Bostra waves to the lizardman who scurries up the ceiling to go over to him. They exchange muffled words and Bostra hands a slip of paper to our chaotic trader. The only words we can make out are, “south”, “Grantham”, and “her brother”. Then the lizardman bows.
And bows.
And bows.
And continues to bow until he is no more than a tightly curled ball on the floor that wraps further and further inward getting smaller and smaller until it poofs out of existence.
The cave beyond the door is much like all the other cave tunnels we’ve been through down here, with the exception of some running water up ahead. There is a split off to the south, but we stay walking straight forward, towards the door we can see up there.
Sorin casts Blade Ward on himself the second Ashley sees me set down a single stalactite on the map.
Everyone is surprised at the swift pulling current of the cave waters here (Dex DC 8), but we all make it through without any problems. Then Rae looks back and groans. “We forgot to close the other door. Uuuggghhh!”
Ari makes a second Dex Check to cross the water back to the door, closes the door; then makes a third Dex Check to come back.
With an 18, tZulèe is able to find a bit of sewer wall around the edge of the door that’s large enough for it to meld with (melding with the cave wall would get knowledge of the room we’re already in, and melding with the door would get knowledge of the inside of the door).
While it does this, Sorin sends Akris to explore the flowing water.
A few minutes later, the flying snake returns looking uncomfortably soggy. “There are sssspotssss where the roof issss low and the water pullssss you allongthss. I came back heresss quickly sssso I didn’t getsss losssst too far along ththe way. I’m not ssssure where it goessss, or wheresss it endssss up.”
Basically, there are parts of the caves down here that will have these streams. They will work very much the same as the mario-style sewer pipes, we’re used before, by moving us from one place to the next. However these only go in one direction, and we have to make checks to avoid getting swept away as well as to avoid getting hurt if we do go through them (obviously with advantage if it’s voluntary).
Ari is checking over the door as tZulèe is rematerializing, and looks in the window. She can see a sign hanging on the other side and facing us. She mouths out the few letters she can see and puzzles it out. “Danger”.
The gargoyle solidifies “Inside is a big room. Bigger than other rooms. There are pillars. Lots of pillars all around. And fire, held up by chains. There is something, or somethings. It is or they are big. I cannot tell if it is one or many.” Then, having given its report, the gargoyle goes still and quiet again.
“Bostra, do you have any idea what might be in there?”
“I have a hunch…” he sighs, “I think it might be the Oracle. And before you ask, I don’t know anything about it. Pulgrok never took me there. All I know is that it’s one of the frogs' most jealously guarded secrets.”
Cypress leads everyone in coming up with a plan. Step one: he will Wild Shape and go in to scope things out. They all decide he should be something quiet enough to stealth in, but big enough that whatever is in there won’t mistake them for food. He Wild Shapes into a Giant spider and gets ready to enter the room.
Ari gets out her thieves’ tools and moves to oil the leather seal around the door.
Ari, take 10 damage.
Brooke: “Wha-”
The door flexes and changes. A mouth as wide as her shoulders bites at Ari as the Mimic Door reveals itself. Roll initiative!
Failing her Wisdom Save from her new cursed blade, Ari feels the true spiteful rage swell inside her. She lashes out, “¡𝔫𝔬𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔯”. The fires of her Hellish Rebuke fly from her eyes, and she swings the sword.
It would be too perfect if you got a twenty right now and got the Life St-
Brooke: “20!”
Perfect!
Brooke: “Oh but the damage is low-wait! I use my Savage Attacker feat to reroll the damage. So, with the added 7, that’s 21 total damage!
The Vicious Rapier of Life Stealing rips into the flesh of the mimic, greedily sucking up its life force and shooting it back into Ari’s hand. It restores the 10 HP she just lost. She steps back with her chest heaving and the Mimic dripping garish green viscera out of the huge open gash across it.
Spider Cypress bites at the door Mimic for 10 more damage, but the poison doesn’t take effect.
Raelle-the-Homerun-Queen spits on her hands and picks up her staff. She swings.
Sarah, tallying up all her dice and counting out loud: “Okay for that’s 6, plus 4, plus-”
It’s dead, it’s dead, it only had 6 left, it’s dead.
When the Mimic dies, its skin hardening instantly. The fleshy-tan-pink and wood turns rapidly to stone as the bulbous shape of its true form bursts forth like a fat man filing unzipping a tight girder. The deep grasping tendrils that it buried far into the earth here harden and we see cracks along the walls. The way is now impassable. Even when Rae tries to collect its teeth, she finds that them solidly affixed like a statue carved from iron ore.
Cypress lets loose a series of expletives known only to spiders who listen to the wrong kind of music, and then shifts back into their halfling shape. “Well so much for that plan, I guess we should head to the green room, since that was next on the list.
Almost an hour later, we’re walking up from the south of a hallway we first came at from the north, back in February. Now Rae can see the same green glow she never got to investigate from the other side.
“Oh wait,” Cypress says and heads down a side hall.
Rae groans, “What now?!”
“The key, remember?” Cypress pulls the oddly toothed statue out of their bag as they turn the corner (found in Thug Muggers in the Tunnels 2/17/24).
Turning back down the little deadend hall we were in four days ago. Cypress stands on tip toes and slots the statue into the empty line at the top of the plinth of gears.
Nothing happens.
Bostra coughs.
The statute settles and slides down a little more with a click.
It starts slow. The top gear barely turns as it descends into the ring beneath it. The second ring turns clockwise as it descends, and the third ring starts turning widdershins when it’s half way down, and the ring beneath it starts spinning when that one is just starting. Soon the entire stack of countersunk helical gears is spinning faster and faster and falling into the floor. Right before it falls flush, we hear a click and the gears on the wall behind the column begin to turn as well; each one spinning and screeching. We hear chains rattling and the pulleys on the walls next to up steam with oily smoke as they spin and fly. At the far end of this little hall, where we came in, there are counterweight fly paddles on the walls, long two toothed gear sticks with heavy weights spinning freely and banging each other back and forth in a frenzy as we huddle together to avoid getting ground like sausages.
KA-CHCHCHCWHU-LNK-CHK-THNK
With a bang, it all seizes up in a dead holt, every piece vibrating and shuttering as they go still.
We back out and head to the entrance of the green room.
Past the grate, we find ourselves in one of the most massive rooms we’ve seen down here in the sewers. In fact it is almost as big as the crypts we found beneath the church of Faerick back on the 29th of Mirtul. But this room is a giant square, no wait - a giant cube. It takes a minute for that to set in because the ceiling is low, only about six or seven feet up. It’s the depth that takes us by surprise.
In front of us is a small path of bricks trailing out into a pool of green water well over thirty feet deep. Down in the clear green water we can see the shimmer of gold coins, magic swords, wands and crystals. This water is not the friendly green of the crystal cave where we found the healing gems, but an acrid acidic green that could rot teeth and eat through bones. It laps lazily up on the walls of the deck like a public swimming pool after hours. The jutting pathway to the middle is made from solid walls going all the way to the depth of the green pool, but we can see that it has started to erode and crumble far below the water line.
At the end is a magic circle carved deep into the tiles of the floor with words around it that we can’t yet read. In front of this dock stands – or maybe floats – the remains of a pillar running from just above the lapping water, all the way to the bottom. It’s janky and crumbling, but seems to be locked in place, unable to sink or fall apart.
From all around the room echo the haunting sounds of muffled tears, sighs, and sobs as if somewhere in a distance we cannot see is a room full of children softly crying themselves to sleep.
Sorin reaches in his satchel and rips off a shred of his old tattered robes. He kneels and tests the waters at the edge with it. There is a fast bubbling and a hiss. The fabric dissolves in his fingers as capillary action pulls the acid up it. The last tiny ashes fall into the water before dissolving near the surface. Not a single hair of the fabric remains.
The wizard stands and walks to the magic circle.
Ari walks up behind him and points out the two halves. It’s only then that Sorin can see the true shape of things, the carved runes make out two phrases written in a circle large enough for someone to stand in, but the magic line is further out. It forms a half moon at the end of this strange little dock, and runs around the entire edge to the lake here, forming an enclosed barrier.
Cypress walks around the deck encircling (ensquaring?) this strange green lake, and Ari reads out the runes.
“Magic is always a gift. Every gift is magical.”
She scratches her chin and when Cypress gets back around she asks the room in general, “Doesn’t this seem like something that needs a sacrifice?”
“You think this is the Oracle?”
“Maybe,” she shrugs, “I’m not sure. It just sounds like a riddle about sacrifice. And if I had to guess, I’d say it needs to be a sacrifice of magic items. Sorin’s ordinary cloth dissolved, but we can see things down there that definitely look magical…”
Cypress closes his eyes in a quick prayer. Then, feeling Sheela’s reassurance, he nods. “That sounds about right.”
Everyone digs through they’re gear to find something magical they’re willing to part with until Ari finds the pair of Goggles of Night she forgot she’d picked up.
With a shrug, she holds them over the water and lets go.
As the goggles sink into the water, the sobs and sighs around us coalesce over the decaying pillar.
Lines of empty black air trail together. Until a void appears in the vague shape of a human – or a human if someone had covered it in a sheet. The ghost there turns, hovering just above the stone brick. It looks… not black, black is too bright for this. It seems to suck in blackness, as if eating it. This sheet ghost figure seems like a hole in reality where even light refuses to go. But as it turns we see a glowing green face, just eyes and a jagged mouth floating in front of the void and a single curl of void on top like an apple stem instead of hair.
The face stares at us with impossible hungry sad emptiness.
With a quick Nature roll, Cypress recognizes this creature as a Void Ghost. He stands firm but braces his legs against the fear. Void Ghosts are ancient shades. In a way it’s a ghost beyond a ghost, or a ghost of a ghost. Void Ghosts are made when a soul passes from the body, but the spector stays grounded to the earth for hundreds or thousands of years in the same place. The plane of reality always arcs and bends around every disembodied soul as a strange and unnatural force. But when they remain for centuries, that stretching and bending tears a hole through all the planes, and even reality itself. The ghost dies and this new shade of a Void Ghost emerges. Very few have ever existed because most ghouls finish their business or expire. Void Ghosts have long been used as nightmares in tomes and old manuscripts.
Ari swallows. “Hello?”
“Yes… I am… Krubos…” The voice is coming from the dark hole in reality, then softly echoing off the walls back at us, but the mouth doesn’t move. “I… thank you… for this… gift…” without moving at all the figure seems to slump, “I am… bound… to return it… to seed you… with a gift…” The acid green face doesn’t change but the hunger in the air seems to grow inside it. “But… there must… be a sacrifice!”
"My friend decided to take it with her, and has had it in a circle of black salt most of the time she has owned it. She too has nightmares and strange occurrences as well." Why would you put it in a circle of black salt sometimes? It, like—if you were—if it merits a circle of black salt, let's go ahead and leave it there.
–Justin McElroy, “MBMBaM – The Detroit Star Wars Spectacular (MaxFunDrive 2019)”
Table talk:
Brooke spotted this right away, but yes, Krubos is based on Krobus from Stardew Valley. Going back to the Table Talk from two weeks ago regarding the real world back story and set up for the world. This was a little easter egg joke that i put in right from day one in my notes. In the earliest outlines of the sewer i knew i’d have a giant green lake with a Krobus in it to trade with for higher level magical items.
Also, back when the gang was leaving the sewer and deciding which way to go, i mentioned (in the 3/3/24 Table Talk) that i had done a bunch of prep work for rooms and creatures. I’d even stayed up late, running to the store to buy and take some clay with me to work. I spent my lunch break just a few hours before we played, sculpting and making several attempts at something… Well you guessed it. That work was on this scene introducing Krubos; turns out i had a whole month to work with. Even so i kept one of the clay models for now, but here are the failures
