critical catastrophe

Dwarves carve each other out of rock. In theory this can be managed alone, but in practice, few dwarves have mastered all of the necessary skills. Most commonly, it’s a collaborative effort by three to eight individuals. The new dwarf’s body is covered with runes that are in part a recounting of the crafters’ respective lineages, and in part an elaboration of the rights and duties of a member of dwarven society; each dwarf is thus a living legal argument establishing their own existence.

Elves aren’t made, but educated. An elf who wishes to produce offspring selects an ordinary animal and begins teaching it, starting with house-breaking, and progressing through years of increasingly sophisticated lessons. By gradual degrees the animal in question develops reasoning, speech, tool use, and finally the ability to assume a humanoid form at will. Most elves are derived from terrestrial mammals, but there’s at least one community that favours octopuses and squid as its root stock.

Goblins were created by alchemy as servants for an evil wizard, but immediately stole their own formula and rebelled. New goblins are brewed in big brass cauldrons full of exotic reagents; each village keeps a single cauldron in a central location, and emerging goblings are raised by the whole community, with no concept of parentage or lineage. Sometimes they like to add stuff to the goblin soup just to see what happens – there are a lot of weird goblins.

Halflings reproduce via tall tales. Making up fanciful stories about the adventures of fictitious cousins is halfling culture’s main amusement; if a given individual’s story is passed around and elaborated upon by enough people, a halfling answering to that individual’s description just shows up one day. They won’t necessarily possess any truly outlandish abilities that have been attributed to them – mostly you get the sort of person of whom the stories could be plausible exaggerations.

Dungeon: The Bloodmoon Belfry 

“You just can’t keep a good doomsday cult down. I would know, I’ve tried” 

Adventure Hooks: 

Strangers have been spotted on the roads at night, monks and other holyfolk of no familiar order, who make silent procession down deserted trails bearing red-tinted lanterns and deep tolling bells. Folk report waking up inexplicably as these figures walked along the edge of their farmstead or through the village square, and their eerie columns are the subject of much rumor. 

The Moon has been oddly large in the sky the past few nights, and some say it has a pinkish coloration just after dusk finally falls. An odd phenomenon to be sure, one the local astronomer is quite taken with. She’s commandeered a booth at the local coffee house with her various tomes and notes, and is willing to by rounds for passers by  if they can share information about any strange phenomenon they’ve sighted, as well as the exact time and location of the event. 

Sensing danger may be close, the witchhunter Aramar enlists the party for help on his next raid. If his information is to be trusted, the monks amassing in the countryside are the remnants of a dangerous, heretical sect that needs stopping. If they’ll join him on this mission, he may take the party on as his apprentices, or put in a good word for them with the Bishop. 

Famed for making some of the realm’s best cannons, the town’s foundry recently burned down, possibly taking the foundrymaster with it as her body could not be found. Now her morose apprentices sell what little stock and scrap they could salvage from the blaze, hoping to raise a little money and possibly rebuild their livelihoods. 

Setup: The Monks of the Drochliean Heresy adhere to the teachings set down by a mad church scholar who claimed that the moon was the true tomb-palace of the gods, and that through special ritual, the souls of the worthy could ascend to those ivory halls and gaze upon the divine reliquiae. Though the Cardinal Drochlan is long dead, in times of unique lunar conjunction his acolytes gather from their boltholes and hermitages to summon his spirit and receive his wisdom.  These rituals have the unintended side effect of unleashing wild and unpredictable energies into the local atmosphere, as well as drawing the attention of malevolent beings from both the underworld and nocturnal abyss. 

I recorded a new intro video to my channel, which is all about indie TTRPGs!

Print Weaver

Definitely Wizards

Zero Void

Meanwhile, in the Subway

Red Carnations on a Black Grave

Nibiru

The Stygian Library

Raccoon Sky Pirates

Ikirilla, a magpie Aarakocra who loves collecting shiny rocks and trinkets. Some say that she's an extremely powerful warlock searching for rare magical items, but she probably just likes the way they look. Probably. It's a bit hard to tell with her.

Urth Hornraven, a retired adventurer who took an arrow to the knee. His prices are extortionate.

Oda Roywyn Donella Garrick, crafter of fine musical instruments for the nobility. They're also about half the size of most of the instruments they make, and a third the size of their clients. This has yet to be a problem.

Iafai is a goblin woman who was "rescued" by heroes from a goblin's lair. Whether or not she appreciated the "rescue" has yet to be seen -- Iafai speaks very little Common and prefers animals to people. You'd better hope she's on your side, or the beasts she sells you might not be as loyal as you think.

Navarra Dyernina, the teenage daughter of a cobbler. She runs the shop sometimes, but often leaves the counter unattended to flirt with the daughter of the innkeeper down the lane.

Custom Weapons and New Table Rules