C Series Session 3: Cerebro Cerebro Cerebro

 

Grenthrum the Dwarf needed help exploring the dungeon. Roddy was dead, Jack was in physical therapy and nobody else was around to go through the portal with him. He went looking for some Thouls to hire, starting in the chapel of the Leper Heart. The room was deserted, but a trail of ash and slime led from the empty bucket to the Fazenda kitchen.

In the kitchen, a pair of Mutants shouted and threw salt at a dark red blob, which crawled up on the table and devoured a plate of empanadas. The blob gurgled a greeting to Grenthrum in Roddy's voice. The power of Leper Heart had resurrected his ashes. With a slime and three henchmen backing him up, Grenthrum thought he had a chance.

Downstairs in the defunct Gnomish mines, the mage Delgal Haberkorn fussed over the portal while Doctor Pleroma stood guard, ready to dissolve anything that came through. Grenthrum asked if he could hire any of the doctor's patients and was rebuffed. The Thouls were obsessed with maintaining combat readiness in case their creator Rope Trick ever came back for them. They needed to learn how to be something other than living weapons and dungeon exploration would only reverse that process.

Delgal gave the all clear. Roddy, Delgal, Eric, Gowonry and Grit stepped through the portal into the unknown.

 

SWAP MEAT Jam Results

Following up on Zomnocon, the 9/11 Jam and last year's Halloween event, the Unknown Armies SWAP MEAT Jam wrapped a couple weeks ago. Participants had 333 to 1,296.3 words to write about at least one of the following prompts.

• Man vs Technology, Nature vs Civilization, Grief and Loss 
• Genre: Folk Horror (1800s to Modern Day), Urban Horror, Corporate Horror 
• Inspiration: The Witches Sabbath by Francis Goya, The Dust Bowl, Faustian Bargains 
• What you hear about Occult Underground during Halloween

We got six entries this time. The Unknown Armies fan community is not large and has been demoralized in recent months by Atlas Games inadvertently shuttering the Statosphere community content program. But what are you gonna do?

Gareth Ryder-Hanrahan's Unknown Armies Con Scenarios

 

 

While looking for entries to use in Tormsen's Unnatural Phenomena Jam, I found links to some of Gareth Ryder-Hanrahan's old Unknown Armies con scenarios from the early 2000s on the defunct game.eire site. The Wayback machine had captures of all the relevant .zip files. 

 

John Tynes ain't dead but he's under a noncompete at Wizards, which is basically the same thing. Meanwhile Hanrahan is the best of the Pelgrane devs, his blogposts are better than most of the other guys' published products. But was he always a scenario writing powerhouse, even twenty years ago? I uploaded his UA con adventures here for people to read. I've never heard anyone talk about any of them so hopefully you enjoy reading along.

 

This is not a full review since I haven't run/played any of the modules. I'll likely never run them regardless of quality. If I ever get enough players together for Unknown Armies again I've got a bunch of my own stuff at the top of the pile to be run.

C Series Session 2: The Caverns of Contemplation

One day after breaching the first line of Gnomish defenses, four adventurers descended into the Caverns of Contemplation for a second try.

• Grenthrum Doorknocker, Dwarven Monster Hunter
  
• Jack Fatherd, Coureur des bois
  
• Roddy Applecreek, Mad bomber
  
• Shahid, Adjudicator
  

They left their hirelings Gowonry, Grit and Barb Eric behind, and managed to convince the two Thouls to stay out of the fight for now. They'd be more valuable protecting the entrance than trying to squeeze into Gnome scale tunnels.

 

The cavern floor below the entry shaft looked suspicious and Roddy realized that the Gnomes had cast an illusion on it. He dropped a rock on a rope and triggered the flashbang runes and chromatic orb trap. The illusion blocked the light from the flash and Roddy was too far away to be hit by the orb, but the bang undoubtedly alerted every Gnome in the mine. The group debated what to do, and elected to forge ahead anyway.

C Series Session 1: The Caverns of Contemplation

Frans Post

 

Fazenda Sanitarium, a lakeside estate in the sweltering Rubberlands below the Marble Cliffs. Formerly the estate of a Don who staunchly supported the Old King, currently a hospital run by the healing Church of Leper Heart. On the patio, a mutant with fleshy lobster claws pours cold anise liquor mixed with sweet, citrusy tonic for eight adventurers:

• Al-Hafiz, Self-Sacrificing Preserver, and his three henchmen
• Eric the Hired Barbarian
• Gowonry and Grit the Mutoids
• Grenthrum Doorknocker, Dwarven Monster Hunter
  
• Jack Fatherd, Coureur des bois
  
• Roddy Applecreek, Mad bomber
  
• Wakefield, Burglar and Confidence Trickster

The sentient green slime Doctor Pleroma explained the mission with such precise diction that his Common took on an accent of its own.

There’s a monster underneath my hospital. It opened a hole in the ballroom and when one of my patients went inside it killed him. There was a loud sound and a flash of light from the hole and he was burned. We lifted the body out with a hook. Go down there and kill whoever did it. All of them. Your pay is 5,000 silver pieces plus any treasure you find. Except the red stones, those belong to the Heart. Don’t take any of the patients with you, even if they ask.

Special Orders Preview: Alive in the Pressure Tophet

Friday was the busiest night of the week for the Colonel’s Secret Coterie cell, all five of them crammed into the restaurant awkwardly sandwiched between the community college and the interstate. Fonz at the register, passing out freebies to the cops who always swung by for a magickally charged pick-me-up before a high risk warrant service, mouth always two sentences ahead of his brain but making them laugh and smile all the same. Mick on the drive through, employing his best customer service accent and killing the mic to lisp out the orders in his natural deep southern falsetto. Orlock, stripped to the waist, mesh vest like a hairnet for his torso as he slaved over the fryers. Nadia weaving neatly between them, never shouting if she didn’t have to, speaking just loud enough to be easily heard over the endless machines that shrieked and hissed and buzzed and chimed.

And at the heart of it all, the Loyal Laborer, the hero of the scene: Ozzy Packard. Thin sleeves of plastic plastered to his hands with sweat, which melted on contact with hot metal and had to be painfully scraped free and replaced. The snap of boiling oil where it leaped to kiss his face, always narrowly missing his eye. Enormous sacks of potatoes, bags of drink syrup, ice, chicken, bread, so light they might have been air. The actual air heated to the temperature of blood so that it felt like his own body, the noise blending so that orders for fries and sandwiches and cardboard buckets filled with chicken melded with his own inner monologue. A mop detaching congealed fat from the tile. Enlightenment. Oneness with the world around him. The headache gone. The bone-deep weariness gone. The pain so thoroughly obliterated by devotion to the task that he didn’t feel the oncoming fit until he was already on his back.