I have decided to try out some solo RPG'ing. Doing some Into the Odd solo hex-crawl, using my binder of random tables and a smorgasbord of solo tools. We will see how this goes, but I have had fun so far.
Dramatis Personae
Awela Singh - a veteran demolitions expert who served in the underwar years ago before turning to a life of adventure and criminal endeavors. In addition to her penchant for explosives, she plays the french horn in a veteran's orchestra.
Vanise Palamas - an enthusiastic mountaineer with a background in anarchist sabotage and bongo-accompanied poetry. Her connections to Bastion's underbelly has kept the crew gainfully employed of late.
Tinneraine Toohzette - a defrocked minister of the nameless saint of secrets, he was excommunicated for being a gossip. His side hustle as fashion columnist at an independent rag mostly feeds his luxury addiction.
Sadiba Navda - a young, curious man recently released from an indentured bond to a mining syndicate his parents sold him to as a means to escape debts. Unlike his boyfriend, Tinneraine, he has no interest in engaging in crime and continues to work an honest day-job mining for the syndicate.
Prologue
Before the sun's first rays touch the city's thick smog, before the bakers fire their ovens on this muddy April morning, Awela Singh leads her comrades Tinneraine and Sadiba through the back-alleys of Zapham Row, the Consortium of Court Conductors hot on their tail.
"Oh how brave of you Sadiba, to save me so daringly," says Tinneraine, kissing the younger man's forehead as they stop to catch their breaths at an intersection.
"Quiet, you two!" Awela says as she scans the quiet street. "Where are you, Van?" she curses quietly.
Just then a rope ladder hits Tinneraine in the head as he was leaning in for another kiss.
"Oh, Vanise! Must you always vex me so!" cried Tinneraine.
"Climb!" Awela shouts as she trains a pistol down the alley waiting for their pursuers to arrive. Which they do, just as the ladder begins to ascend. She fires at the men in tuxedos as she rises into the air, above the smoke as the sun rises over Bastion. In the basket of a hot air balloon, the four unlikely heroes look over their home as it wakes, possibly seeing this city for the last time.
"How dramatic a rescue, Vanise," says Awela.
"Ironically, this was the cheapest, and most reliable vehicle that Zoddler had at hand on such a short notice. He said the prevailing winds will take us close to Touforte, we can lay low there and look up some badass nun he used to know," says Vanise.
"A nun? Van are you mad?" asks Tinneraine.
"Apparently not as mad as this nun, but she's a good fixer by his account, we are sure to have work with her."
"Fine, Touforte it is," says Awela. "Sadiba, you know there ain't no going back now? Yer one of us, better or worse, kiddo."
The younger man hugs Tinneraine tighter, "I made my choice," he says and kisses him, "I choose you, Mr. Toohzette."
After swapping their balloon for a flat above an art gallery next to a distillery in the industrial district of Touforte, the crew lies low for a couple weeks before seeking out Fraulein Rothelle at the chapel of St. Zevanka, the Lioness.
The chapel resembles an old hunting lodge, taxidermied animals and beasts unnatural displayed throughout, and the symbol of St. Zevenka, the musket and the morning glory carved into an ivory altar. An elderly woman wearing furs welcomes them into her office, walls covered in animal print wallpaper, her spectacles gilded tortoiseshell.
"I am Fraulein Rothelle, minister of these halls. How can I help you, hunters, for that is what you are, no? I see it in you, what quarry do you pursue that our sainted lady may assist with?"
Vanise slides a sealed letter to the woman, who opens, and reads it, smiles, and places the letter in her desk. "I see, you are hunters indeed, I thought I smelled the smoke of Bastion on you. I haven't heard from old Zoddler in near a decade." She sighs deeply. "I may have something for you. I shall send word when the time comes. May St. Zevenka guide you!"
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Day 1
Tinneraine stares mournfully at the barley coffee, stale croissants, and bruised pears laid out upon the table in front of him. "Oh how I miss genuine food! Real coffee was not so hard to find in Bastion, even Zapham Row had a Turkish coffee house of passable quality."
"We can buy real coffee as soon as we do the nun's task, my dear," says Sadiba through bites of croissant, "and I agree with Vanise, I may even be able to find a vein of ore worth selling stake in."
"See! North is surely the best way to go. Besides, with weather as gorgeous as it's been lately, wouldn't you prefer the clear mountain air over the humid swamps, wet boots, and more leeches than St. Tarazik University Hospital?" she says as she mounts the sofa in a triumphant pose.
"Dear Vanise, would you remove your shoes from the davenport, its upholstery is bare enough as is," says Tinneraine, "but I also agree. I'm not due for an exsanguination until July."
Awela nods, staring into her coffee. "It's decided, Vanise will lead us through the pass north. Two days to the Abbey, two days back. We shan't be gone more'n a week."
"Yes Lieutenant Singh, ser!"
Setting out under a cloudless sky, the four comrades climb the pass north, unaware of what stalks them. Unbeknownst to Awela and colleagues, Fraulein Rothelle's mission is a ruse. These hunters, shall soon be the hunted.
As the sun passes its apogee, the companions find themselves in a grove of violet-leafed aspens wherein they take time for a small repast of tinned whale pemmican and fresh mountain water.
"I could get used to this, my dear friends," says Vanise, "the smog of old Bastion certainly did a number on my lungs that only two-and-one-half packets of cigarillos a day could hope to recreate."
"Aye," says Awela as she cleans out the empty ration can in the nearby stream, "and the water ain't ruddy nor jaundiced."
"Oh you really are deep country bumpkins already, I see. Clean air and water are no substitute for fine culture, good food, and the innumerable luxury amenities Bastion did provide, my friends," says Tinneraine as he polishes his ivory handled pistol. "Ah but look, Sadiba runs for us!"
Sadiba upon returning to the party from the edge of the grove, breathless, says, "Yonder, a mansion, all sinking into the earth, and some creatures of right ghastly mien pursue me!"
Out from the trees burst five crawling things, each sporting purple and gold striped chitin and two hairy tendrils waving from the top of their thorax. They advance across the grass, their mandibles chittring with menace.
Vanise and Tinneraine leap to their feet and shoot their pistols at the beasts while Awela lights a bomb and tosses it toward the oncoming insects. Their volley of firepower destroys four of the creatures handily as the fifth flees, swinging away through the violet leaves with its dorsal tendrils.
"With any luck, we shall not see that again," says Tinneraine, "but I wonder after this Manor, should it provide shelter for an eve, I'd much prefer it to roughing it on some cave floor as we are like to do before we reach the old abbey."
"What luck we should find a defensible position that suits your fancy, oh Princess Toohzette" said Vanise with a wink.
"What else besides these critters you seen boyo?" said Awela. "Lead on, best see what we may do with the place."
Entering the old manor, the comrades find themselves in a statuary room with oil-covered scuptures and a blue jasper statue toppled over on the floor crushing a human corpse beneath.
"Two fresh dead," says Awela "I'd rather tarry no more."
"Oh my dear lieutenant," says Vanise, "can you not smell the sweet flowers deeper in? These poor folk were merely unlucky and too few, we have each other and more brains besides, even with Tinneraine here!"
"Oh you vex me again, Vanise, but I must concur, even if dusty the furnishings here must be better than our vaporous flat! Let us find some comfort here!" says Tinneraine.
Awela relents and leads here comrades through the passage north to find two doors, to their right, locked with a floral scent, ahead the door ajar, a fait hissing can be heard. "Let us see about the chamber ahead before we attempt to open this door."
Upon entering, a pit lay before them, filled with human and nonhuman corpses, some fresh on top, others further down all but mummified. The air shimmers within as some gaseous substance streams from the pipes in the ceiling. Awela and Sadiba enter some reverie and begin to walk toward the pit, Vanise shakes off the influence of the gas, while Tinneraine, who is immune to all toxic substances, notices no effect. The pair drag their companions from the room and shut the door.
"You spike this door shut, and I will pick the lock on the other, keep an eye on these two", says Vanise to Tinneraine. This done, Sadiba and Awela come to sitting on plush leather chairs as Vanise and Tinneraine smoke cigars on the sofa beside them.
"Well, we did find some comfort, friends," Vanise says.
"I'd as soon take this furniture back to Touforte, better quality than likely to be found in leagues of this wild space."
Awela stands up groggily and scans her surroundings, shelves of books, a large table with a topographical map of the surrounding area, doors to the east and west.
"I also found perfume, my dear," Tinneraine says, winking at Sadiba."
"We checked the other door, Awela. It smelled... less than pleasant, but we spiked that door shut as well as that horrible tomb we nearly lost you to. This room, seems to be well enough for a night's rest, and even a hearth to warm ourselves by."
"I'd rather not tarry, but I can see the import of comfort we are unlikely to find in the abbey. We shall make haste at sunrise."
