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A Spark in the Sand

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Legends tells of ancient warriors built by Honour himself still operating somewhere in the bowels of the Wastes. While there is little to confirm these stories, the following passage from a children’s book titled “A Spark In The Sand” refers to one particular warrior by the name of Edon. To date, it exists as the only current reference of the Neachtal.

by Cameron Day

Anders Duggan did his best to try and stay awake in class, but rarely ever could. This was the fourth time he had been sent home from classes, and he knew he would hear from his grandfather before the end of the day. Nothing he did could keep him engaged, but then again, Darius Quinn had been teaching since his father had been a boy. As Anders walked down the streets of Rust, some folks waved or called out his name. Some he knew well, others he knew somewhat from the odd jobs he did after school. No jobs today though – he knew that his grandfather would have some sort of punishment for him.

When Anders rounded the corner, he could see Anton Duggan standing outside his bookshop, arms cross over the worn and faded leather vest and yellowed dress shirt he constantly wore. He had his knee pads on – he must have been back in the stacks…that did not bode well for him. He walked up to the doorway and stood in front of his grandfather, reading himself for the traditional ear-yanking he got when he misbehaved.

“Again?” Anton grunted, looking over the rims of his large over-magnified glasses. Anders nodded sheepishly, feeling the cocky wind go out of his sails.

“I’m sorry, Grandpa. I just…I can’t keep sitting there listening to that old piece of beaten bronze go on and on about Chaos and how he destroyed the world and killed Patience and Honor and Strife and the rest of his servants. It’s the same story we’ve gotten since I was little!” Anders never thought his grandfather could raise his eyebrows higher than usual, but the edge of his left one nearly vanished under his bangs of electric white hair.

“And?”

“And what? I’m not sorry for what I did,” Anders said mulishly, crossing his own arms and sticking his lower lip out, glaring up at his grandfather. He saw Anton’s eyes soften, and his mustache loose its terse rigidity.

“Come in. I found something while I was cleaning out back that might put some interest back in that fool head of yours.” Anders followed his grandfather through the colossal walls of stacked books, all salvaged and brought to Anton by caravaners or scouts or tomb raiders. Finally, they arrived in the stacks, the area of the shop that was more archive than storefront, and Anton pointed to a gargantuan tome that lay on the small rickety desk.

“Take a look at that and tell me if it’s boring after. I’ll be out front.” Anders stared at the book, wondering what lay within it. It was two feet wide, and almost six inches thick. The worn leather cover was sheathed in bronze, windblown smooth. Walking up to it, Anders hesitantly opened it, and looked at the first page. Written in a faded spidery hand, it read: In which the events of the Great Breaking are collected, as well as the birth of the Neachtal – the eternal warriors of Honor.

The dusts of the Wastes blew across the dead ground, the red wind shimmering through the air and across the sunken hulks of long-dead beasts of metal and bone and stone. Little dwelt out here in the Wastes, other than monsters, bandits, wandering caravans, and those few who dared travel between the cities of the One Land. Edon did not bother himself with those mere insects – he had no need or no wish to be seen by the little softies who scurried across his path.

His copper and bronze plating worn smooth and iridescent by the centuries he had laid inactive in the sands after the destruction of the One Land, the stone core of his arms and legs and chest as soft and frictionless as oil, Edon glowed in the hazy sun that shone through the thick clouds of detritus that filled the skies of the Wastes. He wore a massive hooded cloak to dim some of his brightness, masking him from the predators who might be foolish or desperate enough to attack him.

Edon did not remember much from before the cataclysm that had torn the One Land asunder – splotchy images often filled his mind of others like him, colossal beings of metal and stone and qi. His master…his master? Honor? Or had it been Justice? There the memories grew even blurrier, and Edon would return to the only thing he knew: his forge.

When he had risen from the sands, rivers of earth rolling off of his body, he had been surrounded by skeletons of others like him, other golems. But he could not fathom who they had been. Had they been his family? He had clawed his way from within the deep canyon in which he had awoken, punching his powerful hands into the copper walls of the crevasse, and when he had finally reached the top, Edon had felt sorrow and fear fill his colossal body.

Many years had passed since then, and Edon had rebuilt some semblance of a life, finding a titanic cavern within a large mesa that stretched for many miles. Soon, as he crested a high dune, the golem saw the familiar sight of his home, and a smile creaked his rusty jaw. Pushing through the sands and pulling his cloak close, the golem finally stepped into the cold shadow of his doorway, his plating beginning to steam as the abrupt cold of the cave settled in around him.

Edon hung his cloak on the back of the huge chair that sat not too far into the cave’s mouth, and then began to crack the large lever near the chair. High above him, a metal hatch slid open in the ceiling of the cave, and the blazing heat of the sun blasted down, smoke starting to rise from the pool of coals at the heart of the gargantuan forge.

“Time to work,” the old golem rumbled, his deep melodious voice filling his home as Edon began to stoke the bellows.

Edon, Last of the Neachtal

Major Character

The last of a great race of metallic-stone warriors built by Honor to fight against Chaos when he entered the One Land, Edon towers almost a mile into the sky – and while he is terrifying to behold, his colossal armored body hides a creative and passionate soul. Hoping to one day repair the corpses of his fallen brothers that litter the Copper Canyon, Edon does his best to remain hidden to all who venture the Wastes.

Edon is thousands – perhaps even millions – of years old, and his mind is a giant repository of knowledge from across the cosmos and beyond.

Homeland: The Wastes
Qi Power: Magma Cannon (see below)
Unique Features: While Ebon is indeed titanic, he is able to blend into the landscape with a huge cloak painted and weathered to look like a sandstone mesa rising into the sky. However, this cloak also contains many pockets full of scrap that Edon combs the Wastes for.

Powerful Construct d8+1/5/3
Hand of Honor d8/5/3
Delicate Craft d6/3/2

Healing Hand (Motivation): Being a construct himself, Edon knows the inner workings of ancient technologies that humans are only just able to begin to understand. When he is able to use his vast knowledge to solve a complex problem, Edon gains +1 Vitality per lead character. Sticks Out Like A Sore Thumb (Hinderance): Edon is well known to the locals. While Edon’s cloak grants him unique abilities to blend in with the Wastes, for those characters who have spent a great deal of time amongst the sands and rock, it is not that convincing. Should the characters ever encounter Edon, any characters from the Wastes gains +1 steps to spot Edon.

Resource Slots: 3
Vitality: 25

Broken Blade of Dahmpa Krisht (Legendary Weapon, 5 qi points): Carrying a gargantuan sword once wielded by Honor himself, the Blade of Dahmpa Krisht is able to sever darkness and shadow from someone’s soul, rendering them pure and whole. However, it was broken in combat with Chaos, and slowly Edon has begun to collect the shards from across the Wastes and reforging it, believing that the power within the weapon can reawaken the other Neachtal. By spending 1 qi point, a shard of the Broken Blade can explode with radiant light and cause any evil characters within Close range to the base step until the end of their next description.
Built Of Armor: Edon’s metallic-stone exterior was built to withstand a barrage from Chaos himself and so only explosions are able to cause damage to him or any attackers must spend an equal amount of Vitality to cause damage with a non-explosive strike so long as it is applied with a qi power.
Damage Trigger: Whenever Edon takes damage, he can immediately use a free detail with a d8 for any complication rolls.
Heart of Flame (Signature): Powered by an ever-hot core, Edon chooses to overheat himself in order to reshape or reform parts of his body that might be broken or rendered useless.
Magma Cannon (Qi Power, up to Far range): One of Edon’s arms can transform into a colossal magma cannon, able to fire boiling and explosive balls of molten rock heated directly from his core. However, Edon can only use this attack as a last resort with five shots, otherwise he will collapse and power down until the end of the next scene.
Massive Size: Because of his immense size, Edon always gains +2 steps whenever his size and strength would benefit a complication roll.
Predicting Chaos: As the Wastes’ perk.

Cameron Day is the host of the pop culture podcast, Comics, Clerics & Controllers, and loves everything RPG. When not writing stories about giant steampunk mechs or working on his show, Cam also does freelance work for Lunar Games and serves as a world designer, editor, and proofreader for Black Void Games. Outside the blue glare from his computer, Cam enjoys hiking, mountain biking, swimming, and conducting trail maintenance across his native state of New Hampshire. You can follow him on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.

Hawkers of Yosh’i

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You seen that four-storey building that travels between the cities, hawking its various confections and delectable dishes? No? Then you have no idea of the world of deliciousness you have been missing. With a staff of almost 200, the Hawkers of Yosh’i is a travelling restaurant unlike any other.

by Tobie Abad

Where do I begin? Hydraulic powers legs provide mobility as treaded wheels support the rest of the building’s bulk during its revolution around the Wastes. Some cities have even charted the restaurant’s passage to time its arrival with festivals and celebrations. Others have learned to use its constant visits as a shadow to conduct smuggling and similar operations. Each floor has its own theme, with hot baths, paper walls, and even musicians giving each room its own distinct identity.

My first encounter with the Hawkers of Yosh’i was when I was five. My father lead me to the southern wall of the City where the restaurant had come to a stop. I still remember the wooden bridges that had been extended to allow guests access to the tower of wonders. Despite the fourteen bridges that have been propped, I remember having to wait in line for an hour before we reached the entrance. It was torture. Pure torture, I tell you, smelling the powerful clouds of flavor that reached across the sky. Soy sauce, peppers, honey, tumeric, paprika, and all these other seasonings filled the air in almost distinct waves of richness. I remember walking through a heady atmosphere of roasted meat only to then slip into a silky richness of gingered steamed fish. By the time we sat down for our first dish, I already salivated enough to drool the moment I opened my mouth for a first bite.

My last visit to the restaurant was early this year as I ate some steamed soup-filled buns in memory of late husband Romero. He had died fighting off some bandits and I spent most of that year in a stupor of alcohol and depression. When the hawkers came into view, I remembered Romero’s love for those buns and made sure I split one with him one last time.If there is anyone, however, one should thank for this gastronomic miracle, that would be Mama Bebe. Atop the balcony deck, on what appears to be a tiled roof building with a skywell, Mama Bebe invites VIPs to dine with her in private. She proudly shows of her three pets, a trio of decapitated heads which have been still hooked onto life-granting machinery, (they were warlords who had dared assault her tower in the past) and is eager to hear from her guests their thoughts on her latest dishes. Mama Bebe is a sensitive soul, however, and once banished eggs from her tower when a guest commented her omelette was slightly overcooked.

Mama Bebe has yet to admit why the restaurant is named the Hawkers of Yosh’i. I have not found any documents or entries listing anyone ever given the name Yosh’i. Nor have I succeeded in asking any of Mama Bebe’s staff to speak up. Maybe Yosh’i was a former lover. Or maybe it was the name of the town the restaurant once stood in. But if you were hoping I was persistent enough to ignore the delicious delicacies and focus on uncovering the place’s secret history, I am afraid you are wrong. I could not ignore the curried egg rolls that found their way into my mouth. Nor the fruit-laden salted bread which was magnificently toasted inside a suckling pig. How they achieve such miracles, I shall never understand. Thankfully, my tongue was not there to debate but celebrate.

There are still things worth dying for that leave a good taste in your mouth. And the Hawkers is definitely one of them. The restaurant should be arriving this coming winter. So remember to keep a bit of extra coin with you lest you find yourself staring at the tower of delights and realize you can’t even afford to step inside.

Mama Bebe

Major Character

Behind that elderly charm and humorous senility lies a cunning and wicked woman capable of great things. She is the personification of her creation; graceful and appealing on the outside, dark and fearsome on the inside.
Homeland: The Wastes
Qi Powers: N/A

The Perfect Experience (Motivation): The restaurant is everything to Mama Bebe. It’s goal is to create the ultimate culinary experience to escape from the harshness of the One Land, an opportunity to live like a god for one meal. Every decoration, spice, and staff members have been meticulously selected to create this experience, granting Mama Bebe +1 steps to all complication rolls while inside the Hawkers of Yosh’i.
In Complete Denial (Hindrance): Her secluded life masking the true world outside her restaurant has left Mama Bebe unprepared to face the truth. This level of control over every aspect of her environment fails her when forced to recognize the horrors all around her, leaving her unable to use any perks until she is able to revert back to a state of denial with a Tricky complication roll.

Charming Old Woman d8+1/5/3
Devious d8/9/4

Resource Slots: 3
Vitality: 20

Damage Trigger: Whenever she takes damage, Mama Bebe immediately responds with a free detail using a d8 for any complication rolls.
Hidden Contraptions: Mama Bebe is never unarmed or defenceless. Hidden within her coats, dresses, and various accessories (including her umbrella) are numerous inventions and weapons acquired from clever engineers from Rust.
Move To the Music (Signature): Mama Bebe puts on a record and turns on various speakers throughout the restaurant. It is classical music but played at a marginal low octave to make the composition sound forboding.
Predicting Chaos: As the Wastes’ perk.
Wild Potential: As the Wastes’ perk (applied to Overprotective’s original d10/7/4).

Tobie Abad is an accomplished RPG designer and writer from the Philippines. You may recognize his work from A Single Moment, 7th Sea, Cold Shadows, and many more.

The Personal Touch

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No two lives are the same. Each of us enter the One Land as a newborn clinging to hope, desperate to survive the hardships that will make us an individual with our own stories to tell. These cities, streets, and landscapes are no different. They began as nothing more than dust and have grown into one of any number of personal discoveries.

Since HPS was published (even during the launch of HPS Legends, now that I think about it), people have asked me one question in particular. “Are you planning to release any setting supplements?” The quick answer is no. The long answer relates to something I wanted to share with you as the next installment of the Rules of Enlightenment: making it your world.

While my early days of roleplaying started out with the AD&D campaigns of Dark Sun, Planescape, Ravenloft, and the magnificent world of Barsaive in Earthdawn, I’ve never been one for concrete settings. Sure, the maps and richness of these worlds were great with hordes of adventure hooks at your disposal, but there was always one major issue I’ve had with pre-existing settings. Aside from a few campaigns here or there, most players don’t know a damned thing about the world they’re playing in. Yet they’re playing characters who were born there. There’s always been a disconnect there I could never shake.

It feels felt like a hard break from the fiction we take so much time and energy to establish. And don’t even get me started on homebrew settings or historical campaigns. (Sorry, Fraser.) As the years went on and my memory became less reliable than ever, retaining all the details of a fictional world felt a bit overwhelming. Even reading fantasy novels left me wondering if I missed something crucial, hence why I find it hard to read series like A Song of Fire and Ice (also known as Game of Thrones) and The Lord of the Rings. It wasn’t until I read Joe Abercrombie’s The Blade Itself that I began to discover the possibility of what I call “veiled settings,” ones where the particulars are not important. You just need to know you’re in a port city where a lot of nobility live and it’s the central seat of power for the kingdom. Done! Everything else is revealed on a need-to-know basis.

For roleplaying games (and story games in particular), veiled settings are an open invitation for everyone at the table to establish facts about the world. With HPS, it didn’t feel right to get too specific on the One Land because I wanted to leave plenty of room for each group to adapt the world to suit their needs and desires. They just need to know enough that keeps everything cohesive and connected, to give everyone a baseline of possible storylines and major characters to launch their game. The rest is filler material for everyone to create as they need it. Remember, one of the major guidelines of HPS is “don’t ask, tell.” Writers shouldn’t be asking the Director if something exists in Yung Zhi, they should be creating something that would exist in Yung Zhi. Their version of Yung Zhi.

This is why there will never be any setting supplements for HPS. Ever. That’s not what this game is about. It’s about creating a multitude of alternate realities focused on this one place floating in the cosmos. Even the way in which I wrote the core rulebook demonstrates this: the monks of Heaven’s Peak are looking for creative and noble people to showcase what they would do to save the One Land. All we’ve done is provide you with the foundation for all games of HPS to share; the rest is up to you!

Create Within Your Comfort Zone

So just how much setting detail is too much? It’s an incredibly subjective question and one I pondered about for a long time during the development of HPS. So much so that I seriously considered working on another version of HPS designed for D&D‘s 5th edition, one that was chock full of all the specific setting detail you could want (or far more than you really needed, depending on your personal needs for a setting guide). But here’s the thing that would happen by changing the setting depth of HPS; it will also change how the game is played. How could you play a game where you can conceive of whatever you can imagine while you’re limited by the immense scope of a highly detailed setting? It’s possible, don’t get me wrong, but changing how the setting worked in the game meant a drastic change in the game itself. If the One Land is a fundamental part of High Plains Samurai, how players approach and interact with it is now a mechanical aspect of the game.

When it comes down to it, creating roleplaying games is a tightrope walk across a very wide chasm of options. There are so many personal choices in play styles, genres, and more that no one product can meet all those needs, so you have to make a choice on how you want your game to go. It was also a personal choice as a designer to create something for the Director to create as much as Writers during play and not in prep. In other words, I wanted Directors to have as much creative control as the Writers and that meant leaving the setting loose and interpretive.

So where is the line? To help demonstrate my point, I posted a very skewed Twitter poll on just how much detail GMs want in their settings. By skewed, I mean it’s only involving my personal Twitter followers garnered as a result of the games I make, including HPS. Here are the results.

A Twitter poll with 11 votes asking, "How much setting detail do you like in RPGs with a built-in setting?". 37% favour "Just enough to hook me." 36% favour "Shh, I got this." And 27% favour "Tell me everything!"

While the overall results point to an overwhelming desire for a veiled setting, even the winning result is divided evenly between using nothing more than a concept and the version that exists for HPS.

Tips For Making The One Land Yours

How I play HPS and present the One Land will be different from how any of you will do it. Even then, I’ve directed dozens of different versions of the One Land. Some of them blending the One Land with the ruins of our own world, others that stray completely away from humans and embrace a full fantasy vibe with characters who are half-animal. In that time, I’ve picked up a few tricks to help my Writers experience a unique version of the setting beyond the format we established in our Session Zero.

Architecture: What does a brothel in Yung Zhi look like? Or Serenity Falls? What passes for buildings in Rust? A City’s architecture speaks a lot about its foundation, history, and the people who call it home. What does it look like when you walk down a street in Monsoon? Even the nomadic clans of Khar’tep can have their own architectural touches in their tents, wagons, and other domiciles.

Fighting Styles: In a combat-heavy place like the One Land, how people fight speaks a lot about their cultural influences. Whether or not you decide to use real world fighting styles, develop new ones from scratch, or simply play it by ear and use stuff that looked cool in that last action movie you saw, how characters fight speaks to the world itself. From fighting dirty to fighting with honour, use your combat scenes to demonstrate what it means to be a survivor of Chaos’ Wrath.

Hardships: Are the people starving most of the time? How scarce is water and what are people doing to overcome this serious obstacle? Is everyone lean and hungry or is it possible for some with the means to indulge their culinary desires? The depth of hardships brought on by Chaos’ Wrath will not only provide a personalized scope of horror to your game but it will give Writers a baseline from which they can establish how their characters will interact with the setting.

Starting Point: Which of the six key locations in HPS speaks to your group the most? Of these six, which feels like it will have the heaviest influence on the goals, motivations, approaches, and outcomes you place into this game as a Director? Start your story there. If you and your Writers can totally dig into the western themes of HPS, start in Serenity Falls. If you like the steampunk struggles of Rust, let your first story begin there. Launching a game by embracing your strongest connection to the many options in HPS is always a great way to get the ball rolling and will help set the tone for the others that may not speak to you as much.

Personal Influences: Finally, and most important, is what makes you, the Director, excited. What drives you and inspires your creativity? Remember, the Director is as much a creator in this game as the Writers and you have as much to add to your version of High Plains Samurai as anyone else. Don’t know the exact history, duties, and fine points of Japanese samurai? Then don’t worry about it. Show us what makes them cool to you while remaining respectful of the original influences that made it so cool in the first place.

Wardrobe: How do the people of Serenity Falls dress? As much as this is an aesthetic question, it’s also a functional question. You’ll notice there’s no mention in the HPS core rulebook how the people of Serenity Falls cope with the unending sandstorm or how the Watchdogs are able to keep watch in such blinding conditions. The way people dress reveals a lot about their history and their culture. Use their attire to unmask secrets of how the One Land operates. Do the people of Serenity Falls wear ceremonial masks to protect themselves from the choking sand or do they simply wrap a scarf over their mouths with sunglasses? What do the warriors of Monsoon wear to protect themselves from the countless number of poisonous plants surrounding their homeland? Are the barbarian clans of Khar’tep known to wear furs or wools to keep warm atop the Great Mother?

The Defiance

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Outcast envoys speak of a grounded ship that appears randomly throughout the Wastes, still manned by a loyal crew eager to return to the seas that are no more. They call it the Defiance.

by Under Librarian Tai Shui
(aka Tyler Omichinski)

I wish I could tell you where the Defiance was. But, like so much else in the Wastes, it isn’t exactly predictable. All I can say is you’ll recognize it.

From a distance, it looks like a hunk of metal left behind in the desert. Draw closer and you’ll recognize a ship – the largest of its kind that any one can remember. Someone left it behind when the waters boiled away. When the Wastes are as calm as they get, the exterior crawls with the crew who continue their maintenance, no matter what else happens to them.

I advise caution when dealing with the crew of The Defiance; they aren’t the most reasonable bunch you’ll find. They are, to a soul, convinced the ocean is going to return to them. To hear them tell the tale, the return will happen any day now. Disagreeing with them on this, or otherwise challenging their beliefs is asking for trouble. Some tell tales of victims being kidnapped and brought around to their way of thinking.

While it’s fun to laugh at this example of insanity in the wastes, mind that they have proved themselves capable of surviving the worst the Wastes can throw at them. Time and time again the Wastes has tried to chew them up, but each time the would-be sailors hole up in their ship and ride out storm and beast alike.

They are led by Captain Dembe Graz, a veritable mountain of a man who resembles nothing so much as his ship. Clad in heavy, rusted iron, he appears to operate without sleep or mercy. In all ways, he acts as a captain aboard a ship, referring to those off the vessel as being “overboard” and the highest honor he can give an outsider is being a “Captain”.

The Defiance itself is 150’ long and 30’ across at its widest point. It tapers, slowly, towards a point at either end. The appearance has varied, as it is, from time to time, relocated across the wastes. After each such movement, the crew leaps into action to scour the nearby area for any resources they may need to repair their ship. There are several cannons on the ship that make up the strongest part of their armoury, though the crew has small arms they use to defend themselves. The days are filled with maintenance, hunting for food, and training for what they are to do should the ocean return to them.

The mode of locomotion for their ship is unknown to outsiders. When questioned about how they reached their current location, the crew always states that they sailed there. It appears that it is part of their larger inability to grapple with reality, claiming that they have travelled across a body of water. There might not even be a singular mode of transport; perhaps it is occasionally attacked by leviathans or predators that are, ultimately, unable to get into the ship.

Captain Dembe Graz

Supporting Character

A mountain of a man standing over 8′ tall, Captain Graz (or simply the Captain, as he prefers) wears an iron suit of mysterious origins to protect him from the ravages of the Wastes using various life support systems (respirator, pacemaker, etc.). Anyone who studies the Defiance up close will discern many of the components came from the Defiance itself.

Homeland: The Wastes (formerly Dharos)
Qi Power: None known
Unique Features: The Captain’s face is hidden underneath long dreadlocks and a knotted beard. He very much appears like a steampunk version of a pirate and adorns his iron suit with various knickknacks collected during his time at sea and abandoned in the Wastes.

Unwavering Belief d6/3/2
Oh Captain, My Captain d6/3/2

Resource Slots: Iron suit (+1 steps or +1 damage); The Defiance (+1 steps; the use of this resource can include detailed knowledge gained from countless years spent on board this ship)
Vitality: 12
Sleepless: In part to the madness brought on with commanding the Defiance and as a result of the life support systems built into his suit, the Captain does not require sleep.

This post was written by Tyler Omichinski, a writer and game designer from the wilds of Canada. He’s been a contributor for two ENnie nominated RPGs and has received an honourable mention for the Writers of the Future contest. He lives with his wife and a gargantuan black dog.

Wunnborne

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Deep within the lower chasms of the Great Mother, darkness looms in the region known as the Teeth. Source of demonic horrors and a people aligned with the shadows buried in the mountain.

by Unknown

The Teeth are called the same in every tongue. They are tall, jagged slopes nestled within the deepest part of the Frozen lands. They are twisted bodies left behind, ripped asunder with intestines steaming. They are whispering tales of the Peoples who dwell in caves above the shrieking cries of its hunger. They are life free from the meddles of people, of sunlight, of peace. The Teeth are death in all its gnawing forms.

It is not spoken of, our birth in this darkness.

Our stories speak of the clawing aberration from beneath us. They speak of the dying screams in the night, of blood and bone and the Teeth’s ever-present hunger. In some tales, we overcame the darkness itself, rending the teeth from the creatures’ maws and their claws from great paws and their hearts from vast broken ribs, cracked open to the glorious sky. In the Whispered Tales my ancestor calmed one, called it lover, and our people were born.

We are metalsmiths. Deep within the Teeth, glittering futures can be gouged and forced into shapes of prophecy. First, we made armour, weapons, shields, structures. Things to fight the dwellers of the dark. We made gates and walls, pikes and arrows.

Still they came, silent as regret. The first mating was borne on a new moon with the blood of fertility. I can only imagine the first silence, when the whispers of their gnashing teeth stopped as she rode in on its sloped back, breeding danger and death.

The Wunn have been our soulmates since that night. We carve their bones into our machines, making new jaws for ourselves with crushing might. Armour from rib cages. Weapons from claws. Our faces hidden behind over-large teeth and the promise of pain. We are human, bear, and machine, inhaling hunger and exhaling death.

They now speak. In the dark of the Teeth, they whisper names, scream cries for help, and echo the night’s lingering starvation. We know each other as none other could. A symbiosis of hunger, lust, and power. The Teeth are vast and filled with the settling tribes and peoples of a dozen places. We need not conquer them so long as they live in fear of us. War has never been lost. Death has never come. We are mated with gods.

It is only now strangers have begun to explore the Teeth’s edges, hoping to find the dark truths that linger there. Memories of a time before life in the Wunn. Their decaying flesh and fur show the death of the world and its slow decay.

We have already mined the Teeth for its secrets. I am their keeper. It is in the Agora of Teeth that the Whispered Tales of time itself can be bought and sold. If you can find your way to me, beyond the Wunn and our voracity, if you can survive the darkness, trick the hunger, endure the whispers, and offer a sacrifice, you will find the ancestral truth you seek.

The Wunnborne (An Optional Homeland)

The cavernous region at the base of the Great Mother is known as the Teeth, a harsh and dangerous outcast region even the noble clans of Khar’tep would not dare to enter. Here they believe is the work of Chaos’ Wrath in the form of demons bonding with humans. Humans who once swore fealty to the Bear Clan. Now they are the Wunnborne, children of demons and servants to no one.

There are three types of Wunnborne: those who remain in human flesh, those who have tapped into their spirit animal, and those who have forsaken flesh altogether. When creating a Wunnborne character, begin with Khar’tep as your homeland and substitute a perk with one provided below. Characters are limited to one Wunnborne perk; if a character needs additional perks, choose from the Khar’tep homeland.

  • Human: Some Wunnborne appear completely human but have tapped into the darker natures of the world. A human Wunnborne can see creatures created by Chaos’ Wrath in their true form, even when invisible or disguised and can instantly recognize qi warriors by their aura. With an effective complication roll, a human Wunnborne can decipher a character’s exact qi power without having to witness it.
  • Skinchanger: The bonding of human and demon invoked the inner connection the Bear Clan had with their clan animal. Some Wunnborne now walk as humanoid bears of varying appearances and traits, including some who appear to be intelligent bears. Skinchanger Wunnborne gain a bonus resource slot for their claws, strength, or animal senses.
  • Shadow: A select few Wunnborne are born as shadows unable to form their own flesh and must instead possess other bodies if they wish to interact with the physical world. A shadow Wunnborne can possess any extra’s body without requiring a complication roll. While possessing a body, the shadow uses their Vitality as points to negate any damage inflicted on them. For example, if a shadow possesses an extra with 3 Vitality, that shadow can ignore the next 3 points of damage. So long as a body is possessed, it cannot regain Vitality and the body is destroyed when it is reduced to 0 Vitality.
         So long as a shadow possesses another character’s body, they must spend +1 Vitality whenever they spend Vitality to shift, re-roll, or lose Vitality for any reason other than damage.
         While a shadow is incorporeal, they can be harmed by physical attacks.  

This post was written by Kate Bullock
(Check out her blog at bluestockings.ca, as well as her work as designer of Crossroads Carnival from Magpie Games and as co-host of The Gauntlet podcast).

The August Order of the Ritual Blade

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“Know the law and do what is appropriate.” These are the tenets of our order. But what is appropriate in a city dominated by lawless gangsters?

by Randall Wen Shi

Yung Zhi, beautiful and powerful though it is, is a fallen city. Our order has witnessed this beauty and power for generations of humankind. We see the joy in the eyes of children at play, even if their games play out beneath swaying towers destined to topple. We see the strength of those who labor for the sake of spouses, children, and uncles and aunts, with little more than a sagging hovel and rough spun garments to show for it. Compared to this beauty and this power, the neon lights and powered cars of the Pearl are nothing. We, the August Order of the Ritual Blade, occupy our place amid wealth and status for two reasons only: for the veneration of our forebears and for the sake of those mired in the depths.

Forgive me! You may not know of us by our official title. Too many mouths in Yung Zhi are preoccupied with finding scraps of food to bother with eloquence anymore. Outside our sanctum, the August Order of the Ritual Blade is known by a much simpler name: Negotiators. What nuance is lost when need outpaces beauty!

I suppose, however, that the name is not inaccurate. We are bound by rituals and maxims recovered from the world before Chaos’ Wrath, and polite discussion is the first of those rituals. We must know the laws of our lives: what we want, whom it affects, and all the personal and political obstacles in our way. As an avenue toward knowledge, the Sharing of Voices is a ritual most dear to us. To the outsider, these long, searching talks may look like negotiation.

What follows is also negotiation by one definition or other. Sometimes it is an easy association, some contract or understanding won through our order’s knowledge of the recorded rituals of legal intricacy or our knowledge of the unwritten rituals of favor and obligation. When there is too much discord during the Sharing of Voices, the Ritual of Blade and Blood might be called a negotiation too, albeit more urgent and final than our preferred work. Either way, ritual is the blade we wield to win better opportunities and conditions for the most deserving of this beautiful and powerful city.

You can believe what I tell you, because it is my ritual to speak only the truth. I am Randall Wen Shi, born in Serenity Falls, raised within the rigid traditions of Monsoon, and come in my adulthood to find my purpose here in the streets and vice dens of Yung Zhi. It is my task to record the deeds of Negotiators, to share those deeds with the world, and—from time to time—to do those deeds myself. It is my honor to fight for whatever the working class of Yung Zhi might need.

New Role: The Fierce Negotiators

Some fight to overcome the struggles of the downtrodden in Yung Zhi for personal reasons, others view it as their purpose in life. Becoming a member of the August Order of the Ritual Blade requires fierce dedication to the traditions set down by this order long before gangsters took control of the City. Their power comes from their honesty and devotion to the tenets of their order and woe to those who would cross them or break the conditions of an agreement with these warrior-monks.

Part gangster, part outlaw, the Fierce Negotiator brings a sense of order and hope to those living on the fringes of Yung Zhi. They speak up for those too far down the social ladder while maintaining respect with the gangs that run this place. Many with an understanding of the bigger picture in Yung Zhi realize the need for the August Order. They bring a sense of righteous judgment to the City, a belief that someone’s out there checking and balancing those in the Pearl. They’re not looking to bring down Xang and her gangs; their role is to maintain the status quo and keep this overcrowded mass from exploding in rebellion.

Condition: Accepting this role requires the lead character to be an active member of the August Order of the Ritual Blade from Yung Zhi. The character does not have to be from that City originally.

Code of Honour: A person’s word is their oath. If the One Land is riddled with greed and deceit, surely the truth is as valuable as gold. To the Fierce Negotiator, truth is everything, and their honour lies in the knowledge they are true to their word. Even in tense settlements where violence is sure to occur, they remain firm in their honesty and will not resort to violence unless they are forced to defend themselves. Then they absolutely promise to settle this matter with pure and thorough retaliation.

Rituals of the August Order: To gain this perk, the Fierce Negotiator must first engage in a short but precise ritual for each stage of the negotiation. This ritual requires at least one description to conduct but its effects are immediate once the ritual is complete.

  • The Sharing of Voices: The Fierce Negotiator vows to engage in civil discourse to bring about an agreement and will not resort to violence, intimidation, or ridicule to bring about a solution. To complete this ritual, the Fierce Negotiator must perform the ritual with the specific characters involved in the negotiation present. Until the end of the scene, you can shift the result of any complication roll with those characters so long as you hold true to your vow. If you are able to gain Vitality by accomplishing a negotiation-related scene goal, this perk will extend to the next scene. Once an agreement is made and witnessed by the Fierce Negotiator, the Ritual of the Blade and Blood can be triggered at any point and time in the future.
  • Ritual of the Blade and Blood: If any of the characters in the vow should ever break any of the conditions of the final agreement, you gain a +2 damage bonus and can combine a single resource’s step and damage bonus in the same complication roll against any of these characters. This perk can also be applied to other characters, including extras, who try and block your path. This perk cannot be triggered unless the Sharing of Voices ritual was performed in a previous scene. It lasts until all of the characters breaking the vow are dead or the original agreement has been restored.

This post was written by Eli Kurtz
(The Mythic Gazetteer, co-host of the Jianghu Hustle podcast).

Spitfire

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When your qi power is luck itself, why not tempt fate daily and become a professional gunfighter?

by Ali May Sang (the Librarian)

In a world of infamy and reputation, there are few celebrities in the truest definition of the word. Then there’s Spitfire, a deceptive young woman who looks like she barely holds her wide-brimmed hat on her delicate head. Yet she is responsible for the traditional dueling deaths of almost three-dozen impressive qi warriors. I first met Spitfire upon my arrival in Serenity Falls for the Tournament of Champions last autumn. She easily defeated the notorious Sha Turin to claim top prize. Since then, some elite gamblers that make Grandfather so much money (seeing as he receives a cut of all the action) have made calls to ban her from next year’s tournament. Presumed sexism aside, there is a basis for her potential banishment.

Her qi power appears to be damn good fortune.

For those who have yet to read the full account of Sha’s defeat by this unexpected underdog, Spitfire came out with both pistols blazing, watching as they bounced off Sha’s rock-like skin. Just when it seemed the young contender had met her match in Sha, her gloating opponent made the mistake of dissolving his rock skin before taking the final shot that would kill Spitfire… only to have his weapon backfire and propel a chunk of his firing pin through his eye and into his brain, killing him instantly. Research into the current champion reveals several accounts of similar turns of fate that spared Spitfire’s life or ended her opponents’.

A native of Monsoon, this spunky qi warrior makes Serenity Falls her home now, living as a long-term guest of Grandfather in his sprawling estate. Rumours insist she is being primed to become one of the Watchdogs’ elite enforcers. For now, she is content to be The Girl Who Got Lucky, waiting for her chance to defend her controversial title of Tournament Champion.

Spitfire

Supporting Character
Regardless of the danger she faces, Spitfire doesn’t have a care in the world and carries on with the youthful exuberance of someone who has never been concerned about a problem in her life.

Homeland: Monsoon (now Serenity Falls)
Qi Power: Luck
Unique Features: Standing at an inch below five feet tall, she wears the duster and wide-brimmed hat getup of fellow gunfighters, a single six-shooter, Silverback, at her hip. She insists this was her father’s duelling weapon of choice until his death when she was a child.

Pulls Off the Impossible d6/3/2
Charming Innocence d6/3/2

Resource Slots: Qi power (+1 steps), Silverback (+1 steps or +2 damage)
Vitality: 10

Phantom Jack

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Legends tell of a ghost protecting the downtrodden Outcasts of the Wastes. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth while hovering close to the mark.

by Ali May Sang (the Librarian)

There are a lot of wild rumours emanating from the impoverished souls who make the Wastes their home. Many are shrugged off by outsiders as nothing more than the rantings of a people living in the shadow of Chaos’ Wrath and there is some fairness in that assumption. One rumour in particular caught my attention as I rested at an unnamed waypoint and it involved someone known only as Phantom Jack. There were a trio of orphaned children begging for change from the “jinglers” passing by (their term for those with money) talking about a caravan boss who was tossed off a cliff into a fire tornado (which is exactly what it sounds like). When I pressed them on it, they were unsurprisingly vague in particulars but wholeheartedly believed everything they heard.

And why shouldn’t they? The story goes that Phantom Jack is the ghost of a prominent figure in the Wastes who was beheaded by goons from Yung Zhi who mistook him for someone with a bounty on their head. Phantom Jack now wanders the Wastes in search of orphans and abandoned caravan passengers stranded in the desert while other stories tell of an ethereal figure dispensing justice against those who have otherwise escaped to the Wastes with their heads still locked on their shoulders. The stories are an intriguing collection of vendettas and noble retribution, but do not display the whole truth.

Phantom Jack is real and continues to live a thriving career as the leader of a gang of young Outcasts known as the Jackknives. Yes, he is alive but there is a reasonable excuse for the stories of a ghost haunting the Wastes – his qi power allows him to project his astral body and walk easily in and out of any building, wagon, or other construction without the burden of physical confrontations, baricades, or anything else that would complicate matters for the rest of those looking to make ends meet. As of the time of this writing, there is no indication any murders are actually connected to Phantom Jack and his gang.

So why doesn’t someone send a bounty hunter to take out Jack’s physical body? No one save for his high-ups know where he is. Everyone only deals with his astral projection and commands are dispensed by the most trusted members of the gang. As his astral from is incapable of carrying on a conversation with those of us restricted to physical bodies only, there is no telling how much dastardly secrets Phantom Jack has uncovered and therefore it is not surprising there are many powerful figures looking to permanently ghost this enigmatic figure.

Phantom Jack

Supporting Character
The ghostly form of a tall, lanky man adorned in a long, flowing robe stands before you. It does not make a sound and the translucent figure reveals a pair of daggers in his hands, a sly grin slides over his face.

Homeland: The Wastes
Qi Power: Project an astral form; while in this astral form, Phantom Jack is immune to any complications (including damage) that require physical contact
Unique Features: Only encountered in his astral form, most of Phantom Jack’s distinguishing features are difficult to make out and his entire body appears like the typical rendition of a ghost. No one knows what his physical body actually looks like but it is believed there are clues to be discovered through his astral form.

Once a Thief, Always a Thief d6/3/2
Knows Too Many Secrets d6/3/2

Resource Slots: Qi power (+1 steps), 2 daggers (+1 damage each)
Vitality: 12

Faithful of Salvation

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Some risk the severe dangers of the Wastes simply to make a living, others revere the Salvation as a biblical calling testing their faith in a world devoid of belief.

by Ali May Sang (the Librarian)

Those who catch the Salvation to traverse the wild desert we call the Wastes tend to prefer dealing with one wagon over any others. It is a trust issue as there are many unsavoury characters behind the wheel and armed to the teeth without a clue how to use these advanced weapons. Sometimes it is a token of good luck to ride the same wagon time and time again. Sometimes it simply comes down to matters of comfort or convenience, and sometimes it is simply a matter of how many passengers they’ve lost in the last few months. When you cross the Wastes, you are always playing the odds.

Not all Caravan wagons are alike. There are a wide assortment of entrepreneurs, freelancers, mercenaries, and naive youngsters hoping to find fame and fortune riding at the side of the One Land’s infamous invention. Most do it for the money and a fraction of those have built a valuable reputation of not getting wiped out in the first sandstorm they stumble into let alone delivering a majority of their customers to their intended destination. Or any destination, for that matter. Personally, I take solace in those who take to riding behind the locomotive behemoth because it is their purpose in life.

Calling themselves the Faithful of Salvation, these drivers and gunners are seriously dedicated in their mission to aid and protect the train survive the challenges of the Wastes. They have seen Deckland Burr’s miraculous invention and view it as more than a marvel of modern machinery but as a sign of the Elemental Spirits offering hope in an otherwise hopeless world. You can tell a Faithful from all others trailing behind the Salvation by the mark they wear on their hand – a burn from the piping hot nameplate adorned on the front side of the Salvation scarring the palm of their dominant hand. This nameplate features Burr’s hand-carved signature reversed on their palm (a warning specifically mentioned because some have attempted forgeries in the past where the signatures was legible and reading right-side up, a clear indication they never so much as laid a hand on the engine let alone seen the Salvation up close). Any Faithful riding alongside the Salvation is willing to give their life to spare the train from serious harm, even if that means bringing their passengers into the afterlife with them. Perhaps this is why passengers should take caution riding in a Faithful wagon and be prepared to join them in death or jump off and risk surviving the Wastes on foot.

Without any benefactors or employment houses funding their fuel and ammunition, Faithful wagons charge a premium for their services but they do offer a discount for those still loyal to the teachings of the Elemental Spirits. And those who are willing to pay in bullets. Their wagons are not the most luxurious or the safest but they are definitively the odd on favourite to get their passengers to the desired destination with as fewer holes when they arrive then when they departed.

The Council of Iron

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Having restored a sense of purpose and honour to his people, it is the infamous General of Monsoon’s quest for the past that threatens to undo it all.

by Ali May Sang (the Librarian)
featuring passages from the High Plains Samurai Core Rulebook

When it comes to the warlord of the Five Cities, the general population who have either been unable to survive the acidic mist concealing the City of Rust from the rest of the world or knew better than to try consider a mysterious figure known as the Minister as its leader. Technically, they would be correct. And also incredibly wrong. When it comes to the true power in this underground engineering marvel, the Council of Iron stands at the top of the heap.

That is not to say the Minister does not hold a position of power in Rust, but all evidence dictates he commands the religious influence of its people. With uncounted effigies displayed on every street and in every home in Rust, it can be easy to believe the Minister controls the day-to-day functions of the City or leads the sermons that the people follow blindly or by force. This is not the case. The Council of Iron, those personally selected by the Minister for their specialties and devotion to the cause, rule over the people, protecting them from the blasphemy of the outside world. Proving their devotion requires physical sacrifices; each Councillor has augmented their bodies with artificial limbs, appendages, senses, and more.

Total subjugation is the price for living in a city of metal and advancement, with the Council of Iron acting as the Minister’s voice. While they may seem to have it all compared to the remaining Cities, everything a family owns can be stripped at a moment’s notice at the Council’s whims. Those who have managed to flee with their lives intact speak of the Council’s madness and the rampant disease from a life surrounded in rusted metals and an unkempt populace. Public hangings, beheadings, floggings, and more are common occurrences. Armed sentries known as dominions patrol the streets and back alleys in search of offenders, particularly those with qi powers who sully the City with their abomination.

There are nine members of the Council, all but one charged with a district to tax and enforce their laws using sermons and dominions. Their servitude to the Council is for life, though their role within the Council and the district they govern rises and falls based on their machinations. Above them all stands Prefect Hassaf Youz, the Minister’s Voice. The makeup of the Council and its functions in the City come direct from the Prefect as only she has looked upon the Minister’s true face and proved her worth to lead the Council and the people of Rust. It is she who dictates the rule of law and the sermons given to the people every day, and those who question her choices are no longer around to question her again.

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