all men are like bugs ⎯⎯⎯ small creatures. delicate creatures. something made to squash or ground down underneath a heel. snapped between strong jaws and torn to shreds. this is no different. when he moves through a city that opens up like a bear trap underneath the setting sun. wolf walks alone. but not isolated. not truly alone when others flutter around him ! ❝ thought you could scrap. ❞ means it like a compliment. violence often is. ❝ lanky motherfucker like you better know how to throw a punch. ain't gonna survive long otherwise out 'ere. ❞
Love your stuff! Any ideas for a dungeon/adventure with a fossils-and-amber theme?
Settlement: Hemoth, Bonepile of the Borderlands
"The remains of ancient titans lay woven through the depths of the earth, colossi from the dawn age that waged war against the gods and early mortals to claim the emerging world as their own, and were subsequently buried as reality came to solidify around their remains. Most of their bones are buried too deep to ever be recovered, but in those places where wind or water has worn the earth thin, one can occasionally stumble upon an ossuary of the ancients"
-Rhoghor Slatebreaker, Exhuming the Dawnage, third edition.
Background: Hemoth was settled in a primordial boneyard out of a practical need to get out of the scorching plains above, as the plentiful shade and cool subterranean springs helped its first settlers get over any sheepishness they felt building their homes into the remains of semi-divine megafauna.
Today, the town is at a bit of a crossroads, as the development of other settlements nearby has put the usually standoffish and isolationist people of Hemoth in a bind. Folk of Fossiltown are used to letting the world outside blow on without them, but with the expansion of the frontier Hemoth finds itself as a potential hub for this emerging territory, sitting on a wealth of water just waiting to be exported to thirsty mouths across the badlands, to say nothing of the other resources waiting in the caverns below.
The town's ultimate fate will depend on the actions of the players, and on those unseen interests that would steer the boneyard to its own ends.
Hooks:
Hemoth is generally seen as the last stop before the frontier, which makes it the first choice for a new posse of adventurers looking to make their fortunes. Disembarking from stage coaches or riding in from the badlands, the party has arranged to meet for the first time at the Old Ivory roadhouse and saloon, to talk over their future plans over glasses of whisky and sarsaparilla.
Beneath the town is a massive system of caves and tunnels carved by the wearing of earth against ancient bones and the passage of endless water. These caverns have yet been further expanded by various mining and resource extraction efforts, creating a labyrinthian tangle of tunnels for the party to explore as creatures from the deep earth and underdark creep up into the fossiltown's foundations.
Dwarven Marshal Ulysses Leveler never signed for this sort of headache, having been elected for the job a generation or so before thirsty outsiders started flocking in by the drove and making Hemoth the center of the world by proxy. A bit long in the tooth and stiff in the knee, he's happy to send the party after bandits on his behalf and let them out of the cell for rabblerousing with a solid slap on the wrist and some community service. Sadly the martial and his policy of hands off enforcement is not long for this world, but more on that below the cut.
Further Adventures:
A private security concern by the name of the Buckthorn Detective Agency is looking to set up shop in Hemoth, First simply by arranging some incidents to make the martial look bad, then by engineering an assassination attempt using a couple local rowdies as scapegoats. After Leveler is out of the way, it's only a matter of convincing the Hemoth town council not to hold an election for a replacement, but to sign the settlement's protection over to them This is a crux point for the party's stay in Hemoth, as allowing the Buckthorn to take power will weigh the scales of justice on the side of business interests and away from those folk who flock to the boneyard for a new chance at life. Ousting the agency will require the party to put forward a good candidate that shows public favor, which might just be one of them if they've made a good impression on their fellow townsfolk. Getting this job would be a leap in prestige and responsibility, but will put the party squarely in Buckthorn's crosshairs, who may attempt to make the candidate disappear in the middle of the night.
Besides its seemingly endless supply of fresh water, the caverns beneath Hemoth are rich in all manner of resources, crystalized from the remains of ancient beings once suffused with primal magic. Fossilized bone more resilient than iron is quarried out as "true ivory" to make bridges and fortifications, and the mineral processes which turned the behemoths to stone have ensured the area is rich in gems. Most precious however is the titansblood, a viscus oil that collects in the deepest seems beneath the earth and possesses all manner of wonderous qualities. Though useful in all manner of alchemical processes, titansblood is most often sought out for great machines and constructs, as once set alight the elemental sludge burns with fury, but is not consumed. Any number of alchemists, inventors, and industrialists are willing to pay in platinum for even scant traces of this infinite oil, encouraging the party to travel into the boneyard's most forbidden depths.
the smell of blood brought him here. austin wasn’t the type to follow it, but it was a full moon, and he was more wolf than man. even physically. so blood had popped up, and he had started to move.
(he’s not even sure what he’s going to do when he gets there, just that he needs to go to it.)
the person is alone, and now that he’s closer, they smell…. strange. unique. “are you hurt?”
Nadine really should not sit up as quickly as they do. Actually, they probably shouldn't sit up at all.
They were no doctor, but they had definitely been stabbed. Stabbed a few times. The whole thing, actually, had been the kind of gross, bloody messy that you don't come back from. And yet, somehow, here they were, just coming back from it.
"What the fuck..." They're not really talking to anyone. Nadine actually hasn't gotten any further than looking down at their chest, which is bloody but not bleeding. "What the fuck."
He startles, and she startles harder, eyes veering heavenward as the lights flicker. Maybe she’s imagined it, however, as they monotonously burn with a static hum. Patrons remain glued to their cheap beers or gathered on the makeshift dance floor without a peep of complaint. It’s only the goosebumps winding up and down her arms that has her doubting her own doubt.
(This isn't her usual haunt, this dive bar with smoky corners and sticky countertops, but going out had been a last minute decision. Spurred by understanding this could be her last new year.)
Exhaling, Silver recovers with a small, apologetic smile, falling back on her heels. Undeterred, she softly repeats, "Hi."
She noticed him long ago. The moment she had stepped inside the bar, in truth. Like her, he isn't drinking. Like her, he's alone. And like her, he watches.
"Got room for one more?"
With his okay, she mirrors him, leaning back against the wall as the band drunkenly initiates the countdown to midnight. Goosebumps blister as anticipation ripens the air, bringing her attention back to him. To the pretty curve of his mouth. Finally, reluctantly, her gaze moves up, and with a jolt, she discovers his had never strayed. Busted.
She glances at his lips again, conveying it wasn't an accident but an open invitation. When he accepts, closing the distance between them by leaning in, her blood hums. Grabbing his jacket collar, she pulls him downdowndown towards her, his height be damned, the winding countdown be damned -
From above, something dives at them both, prompting Silver to reel, the spell broken. Her knuckles turn white as she instinctively tightens her grip and -
And nothing.
It's just a moth.
Breathing out a stunned laugh as it lands on his neck, she eases up, equal parts disappointed and amused. Her lips are tingling. "Guess we had the same idea."
hemoth asked: "it's not safe in the dark." 𝜗𝜚 ⠀𝗕𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗬 𝗧𝗛𝗨𝗠𝗕 ﹔
oh but the dark has always enticed her. from the day she would so violently come into this world , this cold , 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 . . . it was nothing but darkness. " the rabble might agree. " her ironteeth , hidden from view begin to retract forming a set of horrific ironteeth. a challenge it was. or simply to play a little game of who was the prey and who was the predator. " tell me , " she would begin. " do you fear the dark ? "
“ i have so much i want to say to you. ” my gaze flits between jay and eilidh, her tiny hands fisted in the soft material of the comically large moth plush that she carries everywhere. she looks so much like him, it makes my heart ache in a way that i can't put into words.
