Lord Trousersnake
Scholar
- Joined
- Jun 28, 2013
- Messages
- 70
Module CDX-03: Prosper Island
You stagger up the beach, the wreckage of your raft bobbing in the waves behind you. The sand is grey with a greenish tinge and the air smells like decaying flesh, but after the horrors of the open ocean it's a relief to be on solid land again.
You're about to collapse on the sand for a well deserved rest when you realise you're not alone. A wizened figure sits on a stump behind the beach, rocking backwards and forwards while gently rubbing a wooden figurine. Perhaps it's a fertility charm or Nature goddess of some sort, going by its unnaturally exaggerated hips and bosom. The man is clad in a tattered blue shirt with more holes than fabric and sports a loincloth apparently made of rodent pelts. He doesn't appear to notice you.
After picking up a piece of wood as a makeshift club you stumble towards him.
"She was beautiful" he mumbles, "best ass on any slave girl I bought in my life. And this is all I have to remember her by. The bastard took her. Man, the things I used to get up to inside..."
"That sounds great. Really" you interrupt, "But where are we? Are we alone on the island? How did you get..."
He looks up from the figurine and the tinge of madness in his bloodshot eyes stops your stream of questions mid-sentence.
~~~~
[Charisma check: failed]: "Goddam, I am hard" he mutters and resumes stroking the figurine. He says nothing further and you eventually give up and leave, heading into the scrubland behind the beach.
~~~~
[Charisma check: passed]: "I'm Blackhart", he cries, "and Goddam, I am hard".
"Impressive" you reply, "Especially in a man of your age. But where are we? How long have you been here?"
"How long? Mwahahaha, you have no idea do you? This is Prosper Island and nothing can be measured here. Nothing. Squares are circles and triangles are bent. Just pray he doesn't notice you and hope for more fortune in the next life..."
"That's... very helpful" you reply, beginning to sidle off as you notice him staring at your chainmail bikini. The bottom half. His tongue unrolls from his mouth and the tip twitches suggestively as you begin to walk faster, breaking into a run as the tongue reaches a foot in length. The last you hear is a demonic cackle as you dash off into the scrubland behind the beach.
~~~~
Cresting a low hill you notice the first signs of civilisation, a dark glassy wall with a sturdy wooden door on the other side of the valley. But your spirits soon sink again as you notice the swamp between you and the wall, extending as far as the eye can see to your left and right. It seems you'll have to brave the mud to reach the door. And the closer you get to it the less it smells like mud.
Halfway across, ancient faecal matter coating your legs and seeping through the chainmail, a ripple in the bog grabs your attention. A ripple which turns to a wave and then a rapidly growing pinnacle of filth. Heart pounding, you try to dash ahead but the waist-deep swamp slows you down as the golem attains its full height and attacks!
[Encounter: Greater Turd Golem, 3 attacks (2 * arm swipes, 1 * projectile vomit, special: nausea for all within 10m who fail save), immune to elemental damage and edged weapons. Treasure: none]
~~~~
Exhausted from your encounter with the turd golem, you crawl out of the swamp and catch your breath by the wooden door. But your rest is soon interrupted by a small man with brown skin and slanted eyes, wearing a robe made of a flag of some sort - blue with a circle of yellow stars.
"At last, a fellow European in this third world hellhole!" he cries, lifting you to your feet. He draws himself up to his full height of 5 feet and forces his eyes as wide open as possible as he continues: "I am Libero, let us civilised men escape together!"
"Escape? Sounds good to me..." you mutter, eyeing him suspiciously. Despite his apparent high spirits the madness you saw in 'Blackhart's eyes is but a flicker compared to this bonfire. "Were you also washed ashore here?"
"Alas no" he replies, turning his head to the sky. "I was banished here by a cruel god, a god feeble in mind and hideous in countenance, a god destined to rule a small and insignificant realm who took out his frustrations on those nobler of birth than himself, a god of stench and stupefaction, a god..."
"Ok, ok" you interrupt, rapidly tiring of the pompous little madman. "So how do we escape?"
"It is said that somewhere within these walls lies a sacred scroll which will transport the reader off to fairer lands. But it is guarded by fearsome beasts, cunning traps, depraved lunatics and the legendary ruler of this island - Count Prosper!"
"Right" you reply, considering the implications. "And only the reader will be transported..."
"Yes..." Libero answers, his words trailing off as realisation dawns. "But I'll come back for you! My kingdom of Georgia has a mighty navy and..."
"Too late" you shout, picking him by the ears and throwing him far into the marsh. "If I see you again I'll hand you over to Blackhart!"
Feeling cheerful for the first time in days, you push open the door and enter the oppressive silence within.
~~~~
A passage stretches ahead of you, lit by torches along one wall. You notice two doors in the wall to your right and steps descending to your left, while straight ahead the passage ends in a small altar with a wooden chest.
[Room 1: Rectangular boxes of some fibrous material cover the floor, along with what look like old crusts of a flat sort of bread. Green mould covers everything.]
[Room 2: Rats crawl from holes in the floor and attack! Encounter: 12 giant rats. (1 * bite attack, disease)]
Ignoring the stairs, you rush to the altar and open the chest. A scroll lies within. Surely salvation is within your grasp?
Hands trembling, you gently unroll the scroll and the cold grip of despair descends upon you. For the scroll contains only 1 useless word:
"REDACTED"
[Join us next time for Part 2 - The Catacombs]
You stagger up the beach, the wreckage of your raft bobbing in the waves behind you. The sand is grey with a greenish tinge and the air smells like decaying flesh, but after the horrors of the open ocean it's a relief to be on solid land again.
You're about to collapse on the sand for a well deserved rest when you realise you're not alone. A wizened figure sits on a stump behind the beach, rocking backwards and forwards while gently rubbing a wooden figurine. Perhaps it's a fertility charm or Nature goddess of some sort, going by its unnaturally exaggerated hips and bosom. The man is clad in a tattered blue shirt with more holes than fabric and sports a loincloth apparently made of rodent pelts. He doesn't appear to notice you.
After picking up a piece of wood as a makeshift club you stumble towards him.
"She was beautiful" he mumbles, "best ass on any slave girl I bought in my life. And this is all I have to remember her by. The bastard took her. Man, the things I used to get up to inside..."
"That sounds great. Really" you interrupt, "But where are we? Are we alone on the island? How did you get..."
He looks up from the figurine and the tinge of madness in his bloodshot eyes stops your stream of questions mid-sentence.
~~~~
[Charisma check: failed]: "Goddam, I am hard" he mutters and resumes stroking the figurine. He says nothing further and you eventually give up and leave, heading into the scrubland behind the beach.
~~~~
[Charisma check: passed]: "I'm Blackhart", he cries, "and Goddam, I am hard".
"Impressive" you reply, "Especially in a man of your age. But where are we? How long have you been here?"
"How long? Mwahahaha, you have no idea do you? This is Prosper Island and nothing can be measured here. Nothing. Squares are circles and triangles are bent. Just pray he doesn't notice you and hope for more fortune in the next life..."
"That's... very helpful" you reply, beginning to sidle off as you notice him staring at your chainmail bikini. The bottom half. His tongue unrolls from his mouth and the tip twitches suggestively as you begin to walk faster, breaking into a run as the tongue reaches a foot in length. The last you hear is a demonic cackle as you dash off into the scrubland behind the beach.
~~~~
Cresting a low hill you notice the first signs of civilisation, a dark glassy wall with a sturdy wooden door on the other side of the valley. But your spirits soon sink again as you notice the swamp between you and the wall, extending as far as the eye can see to your left and right. It seems you'll have to brave the mud to reach the door. And the closer you get to it the less it smells like mud.
Halfway across, ancient faecal matter coating your legs and seeping through the chainmail, a ripple in the bog grabs your attention. A ripple which turns to a wave and then a rapidly growing pinnacle of filth. Heart pounding, you try to dash ahead but the waist-deep swamp slows you down as the golem attains its full height and attacks!
[Encounter: Greater Turd Golem, 3 attacks (2 * arm swipes, 1 * projectile vomit, special: nausea for all within 10m who fail save), immune to elemental damage and edged weapons. Treasure: none]
~~~~
Exhausted from your encounter with the turd golem, you crawl out of the swamp and catch your breath by the wooden door. But your rest is soon interrupted by a small man with brown skin and slanted eyes, wearing a robe made of a flag of some sort - blue with a circle of yellow stars.
"At last, a fellow European in this third world hellhole!" he cries, lifting you to your feet. He draws himself up to his full height of 5 feet and forces his eyes as wide open as possible as he continues: "I am Libero, let us civilised men escape together!"
"Escape? Sounds good to me..." you mutter, eyeing him suspiciously. Despite his apparent high spirits the madness you saw in 'Blackhart's eyes is but a flicker compared to this bonfire. "Were you also washed ashore here?"
"Alas no" he replies, turning his head to the sky. "I was banished here by a cruel god, a god feeble in mind and hideous in countenance, a god destined to rule a small and insignificant realm who took out his frustrations on those nobler of birth than himself, a god of stench and stupefaction, a god..."
"Ok, ok" you interrupt, rapidly tiring of the pompous little madman. "So how do we escape?"
"It is said that somewhere within these walls lies a sacred scroll which will transport the reader off to fairer lands. But it is guarded by fearsome beasts, cunning traps, depraved lunatics and the legendary ruler of this island - Count Prosper!"
"Right" you reply, considering the implications. "And only the reader will be transported..."
"Yes..." Libero answers, his words trailing off as realisation dawns. "But I'll come back for you! My kingdom of Georgia has a mighty navy and..."
"Too late" you shout, picking him by the ears and throwing him far into the marsh. "If I see you again I'll hand you over to Blackhart!"
Feeling cheerful for the first time in days, you push open the door and enter the oppressive silence within.
~~~~
A passage stretches ahead of you, lit by torches along one wall. You notice two doors in the wall to your right and steps descending to your left, while straight ahead the passage ends in a small altar with a wooden chest.
[Room 1: Rectangular boxes of some fibrous material cover the floor, along with what look like old crusts of a flat sort of bread. Green mould covers everything.]
[Room 2: Rats crawl from holes in the floor and attack! Encounter: 12 giant rats. (1 * bite attack, disease)]
Ignoring the stairs, you rush to the altar and open the chest. A scroll lies within. Surely salvation is within your grasp?
Hands trembling, you gently unroll the scroll and the cold grip of despair descends upon you. For the scroll contains only 1 useless word:
"REDACTED"
[Join us next time for Part 2 - The Catacombs]
s 11821 + ds 1416+ t2 5253
