Showing posts with label Wampus Country. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wampus Country. Show all posts

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Wampus County - Bumming about Frogport

Wampus County Expedition to Frogport - Week 1

"I am a voice in this wilderness, I must shout the good news, even if I have long known to whisper, because the world is always listening.  Someone needs to help people, and that's my calling, that is why death has overlooked me, so that I will not overlook death ..." - Millicent Cobweb, preaching in Frogport's central market.

With companions Abel Killejoy, journalist/bar promoter/rainbow magician, and the sycophantic dabbling mesmerizer that had been lurking about the Rat House running for beer, cleaning floors and begging coins in a most unseemly manner, Millicent Cobweb, and her new protegee Rebbecca (recently rescued from the tomb of a wagering mummy) decided to depart from the dusty street of Thistlemarch for the bustling river town of Frogport.  Cobweb's saddle bags were packed with a bundle of newly printed religious tracks (along with a letter of credit written to Chauncy) and her heart with a desire to share the mysteries of her Necronaut based splinter religion.  Yes, the plan, at least as far as the party's main combatant was concerned, was to sink the roots of another irksome death cult, one specializing in assassinations hire and laying to rest the ghost of a certain ex-boyfriend (literally, Cobweb used to "date" a ghostly cult leader - it was awkward) into the muddy soil of Frogport.
Cartoonish Doodle of Cobweb Preaching

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Treasure Table - Sample - Hobo Treasures

HOBOS' TREASURES

Partially in response to my previous post, below is a random treasure list useful for generating "Hobo Treasures" for a gonzo hobo themed dungeon node.  It's not as detailed as I would like for a large node as it's not split between large and small packets or magical and mundane treasure.  I'd use this one as an adjunct to personal treasure of the hobogoblins, or whatever denizens of the node carried around in their bindles.  The table might also be useful determining rewards or boons granted to PC's for service to the Hobo King of the Great Northern Jungle.  So feel free to use it in your gonzo D&D, Wampus County or Weird Adventures games.  It's stated up for B/X D&D but pretty system agnostic.

"Hobo and Dog" - 1924
Also includes so wondrous "Deck of Several Things" to torment your players.


Thursday, January 3, 2013

Letter from my Wayward Son, A Father's Warning About Life on the Frontier - Wampus County Play Report

I read my son's erratic letters with increasing dismay
Dear readers,  I write this short editorial with grave concern and much sadness, but I must out of my sense of public duty.  While the material contained within is but a domestic drama, and the tale of the sad loss of another beloved child to the pernicious influence of sorcery and the rude wilderness, I must share it with you, not out of a desire for sympathy or aid, but to ring a clarion call of warning to other parents who may find their children considering a journey to the Eastern wilds, that land without comforts or mores, known as Wampus County.

My son, who must remain nameless with the distant hope that some shred or vestige of his soul, mind and body may recovered from the wilderness, graduated from a respectable thaumaturgical institute of higher learning two years ago.  While not the most puissant of warlock, 'Chauncy' was a young man with possibility before him, educated and prepared for a life of gentlemanly contemplation.  However due to unforeseen circumstances and youthful abandon Chauncy wasted his inheritance (a bequest from his dear Mother's family - I myself would never have supported such youthful folly) but like youth everywhere resolved with the innocence of inexperience to find a new fortune in the great lands to the East.  At first, duped by those peddlers of stories and false promises about the wealth of the frontier, I supported this venture and sent the young man on his way, hopeful that if nothing else he would learn that whatever it lacks in excitement, the life of an associate sorcerer-jobber makes up for with respectability, safety and a lack of excitement.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Wampus County Play Report - Return of Chauncy...

Public Handbill Posted in the Streets of Thistlemarch...

Citizens of Thistlemarch!  To Arms!

Recently it has come to the attention of this concerned citizen, as I am sure it has come to your attention as well, that a gang of lawless louts and madmen have taken up residence in our fair town.   If the struggles of the stolid frontiersman were not taxing enough, imagine your struggles when faced with the pack of buffoons, cunning men, cold eyed killers and wastrels that haunt the so called "rat-house" of this fair town.

Recently this band of scallywags and maniacs have abducted, imprisoned and ultimately executed no less than three individuals for unproven and likely imagined crimes.  Furthermore, their numbers grow daily, with new hired thugs riding in from the West and dangerous villains thought gone returning from unknown errands.

While undoubtedly you are aware of the recent debacle involving the torturous imprisonment of a large gentleman of the arachnid variety in the center of town and the related hanging of three individuals purported to be bandits, you may be less aware of the return of one of the Rat House's original denizens, the dastardly, obviously insane warlock Chauncy Woolstrike.  The monstrous prestidigitator returned shortly before the diabolical revelry associated with the hanging, and orchestrated by the violent killer Ms. Cobweb, who's gentle feminine demeanor some may still remember from when she was employed as a waitress at the hotel, but who is known now for her sanguinary disposition and was recently seen to strike down a citizen of Thistlemarch with a shotgun at a public meeting.

Monday, December 10, 2012

On alternatives to spell research

MAGICAL APPROPRIATION - AN ALTERNATIVE TO SPELL RESEARCH

In a recent discussion regarding the acquisition of magic in Wampus County the idea that on the frontier normal magical research isn't appropriate, and that perhaps magic (in the form of new spells) can be taken directly from the land and its spirits was discussed.  This, combined with a stodgy and restrictive magical establishment, makes the frontier a beacon for wizards, a sort of magical gold rush.

Weird psychedelic painting - seemed appropriate

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Millicent Cobweb - Wampus County PC/NPC/Monster

MILLICENT COBWEB 

Specialist/Assassin 6
HP 12
AC 5
ATK 1
DAM: (1D8+2 or 1D6+2 melee)*
(1D10x2) ranged
MV: 40'

STR 16 +2
INT 15 +1
WIS 8
DEX 17 +2
CON 13 +1
CHR 12

SKILLS: Backstab-6
Stealth-4,
Pick Lock/Tinker-3
Climb -3
Listen -3

Equip: Ash gray steel reinforced leather armor, Black dress, Ash Gray funeral hat, Festive leather skull mask, Silvered cavalry saber (1D8), Primeval monkey bone kukuri (1D6), Sawed off double barreled shotgun x2(1d8/1D10) 20 Silver shells, 20 shells, 2 magical monkey bone pistol bullets, 40' Rope, Compact hand mirror, Lantern, 6 Flasks of Oil, Turkitrice Talon Fetish (Once per day adds + 1D4 damage to attack) Scary Mask of Savage Origin (allows wearer to see in dark). Sack of mysterious blue Carcosa crystal bricks

*On Backstab attack damage is X4 and to hit chance is +4 (unless played by the rules - in which case it's X6/+6hit, without stat and item bonuses).

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Last Chauncy in Carcosa ... A very Special Wampus Play Report

Millicent Cobweb, sailor on the seas of mortality, psychopomp to the unready, and late of the Rathouse, Thistledown, Wampus County crept slowly along a rough shale corridor, beyond the shimmering curtain of worlds and theoretically beneath the shattered ruins of Crumbledown in search of her lost benefactor and former employer, Chauncy Woolstrike, self-styled Warlock of Thistledown.  Woolstrike had vanished several months before, sucked into a void created when he drew from a magical deck of cards and the Rat House Bastards gentleman's society had been searching for him haphazardly since..  
The Structure - Pretty Carcosa or "Needs More Purple?"

Friday, September 14, 2012

The Fate of the Imprisoned and Chauncy's replacement.

Recently my Wampus County six-shooter loving, rootin tootin (that is a euphemism) 2nd level warlock was sucked into the Donjon card of a Deck of Many Things - for those of you that don't know what that is - he's trapped somewhere, in durance vile, by powerful things...

Below is a table for what happens to adventurers who remain imprisoned in someplace awful. Long imprisonment has damaging effects on people, mostly permanent ones.

For 'regular' unpleasant prisons or captivity roll 1D6.  For strange, magical or extra-planer captivity roll 1D10, for each of the following horrible conditions add 1 to the roll: Starvation/Lack of Water/Extreme Conditions, Torture, Prolonged Interrogation ("head-games" and such), Deprivation of Sleep/Light/Sensation, Fellow Prisoners of Evil or Malicious Intent or Species, Solitary Confinement.  Subtract up to 6 points for better conditions and anything below 0 means no negative effects.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Wampus County - Chauncy's End?

In the last session Chauncy, my 2nd level flailsnails wizard decided it was a wise plan to pull a card for a deck of many things, shortly after pulling up an amazing haul of treasure that would have gotten him well into third level.  Of course he drew badly, but the Deck has long been one of my favorite magic items, and really it's more good than bad...

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Two nights in Wampus County - Play reports

I played a couple games of Wampus County this weekend and they were very different.  The first a straight forward return to the lost city for Chauncy and the Second a romp in the woods with a gang of inbred Paul Bunyans, and featuring Bobo the Flying Monkey.  Below is a doodle featuring Bobo's adventures including: Bobo, Bobo in a tree, the Toy, Squatch, Squatch Inferno...(They were troll-squatches).

What Bobo the Monkey Saw.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Wampus County - Small Packages of Death

The latest correspondence from Chauncy Woolstrike to his deadbeat Father.

Father,


Our Antagonists By Thurz of Deviant Art
First, I demand word of the valuable Artifacts I have entrusted you with, those frescoes were cut from the walls of an ancient tomb at great personal risk, in the very teeth of a murderous cult intent of using my vitals in unspeakable rituals.  While I am aware of the effort that you have taken to care for the children, and your constant need for funds - I too am in need of funds.  I have a business now, and am expecting an increase in custom now that I have made a client sharing arrangement with the local witch, as such a reserve of Capital is essential.

Second, Allow me to relate the difficulties and extreme privations that I face here in Wampus, so that you will appreciate the efforts that went into acquiring those art artifacts that you appear to have squandered in your usual way.

Recently my companions (Ornibus, Mr. Early, Mr. Iornwall) and two other adventurous individuals, one Slin Zade, a wizard of unknown pedigree, and some sort of squirrelly rummy named D'earf, set off to aid me in the collection of the skulls of several "Devil Fairies" and to aid themselves in the collection of lucre.  I also hired a Mandril bodyguard named Habenero Pete and Mistress Cobweb, the young lady we rescued from the cult, to act a gunbearers.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

Wampus County - Play Report V - The Hokum Tournement

Chauncy Woolstrike sorcerous inebriant writes the following short txt in a letter to his college thurmaturgy lodge "The Order of the Maleficent Owl".  Aslo included is a scribed copy of the spell "Floating Disc".

Chauncy's Level 2 character sheet.


 Recently the rustic town of Thistlemarch has had a bit of excitement in the form of a wild gambling tournament and an orgy of debauch proceeding it.  As you may have heard I am flush with cash from the destruction of a vile cult of necromantic incompetents.  My companions and I recovered a great deal of amber stone that the cultists were using to store the antiquarian relics of power.  I have placed the relics in the hands of a local witch for examination and begun to build a business of the spell selling and magical investigation variety.

Thistlemarch is normally a dreary and unremarkable frontier town, dusty, fetid with livestock odors and inhabited by uncultured boors - though after this week I fear I prefer the company of the boorish and uncultured to that of fops and snobs.

The tournement was for the unimaginable sum of $10,000.00 in gold, enough for a man to retire on happily and two of our members entered the contest.  As a group, and with hope of splitting the money my companions and I decided to, with light hearted pranks and psychological manipulation, do what we could to better our companions chances.

Mr. Early (a gunslinger and Hokum player) spread rumors that Ornibus the snake priest had a car playing tell involving the use of his special (and unspeakable pommade).  He also tried to stir up speciesist ire against Mr. Muddypaws, a canine gambler.

Ornibus Jones (Priest of an unwholesome snake God) for his part tried to convince an insane player to wear mirrored glasses that would reveal his cards.  He also seduced a elderly and (to my eyes) unpalatable witch with the, not unfounded, hope that she would be distracted an unable to play properly.  Ornibus later attempted to intimidate the minotaur Argyle Mac Argyle by eating rare beefsteak in front of him.

James Iornwall (Kilted barbarian of quaint mores) found a companion spirit in the minotaur gamesmen Argyle Mac Argyle. 

Abel Killijoy, whose name I can't remember, (A fellow man of the Western Kingdoms and writer of outlandish stories - look for his tales in the worst class of paper - as I may appear in them only slightly embellished).  Interview a strange foreign prince with a prehensile mustache.

I (Warlock of Waxing Power), interview the The Magnificent Montranto and we got along famously, while the man is no gambler (and clearly has no need of gambling - beyond the lark of it) he did offer to exchange some sorcerous advice with me - Chauncy Woolstrike.   I also found the Twittering Fop, Engleton Peacock in the local bar, and introduced myself in the spirit of our lodge.  Well Peacock was no gentleman so I figured it was time to give him the Owl's Hoot and cajoled him into a drinking game.  Now of late  my tolerance for the local rotgut has increased out of necessity, but the fop could not hold his liquor. I tried to give him fresh air, but when Engleton collapsed from his weak constitution I had no choice but to steal his silly blonde wig, shave his head with my magical dagger and draw the Owl's mark on his forehead in indelible scroll ink.  He performed poorly in the tournament...

After a day of drinking I stood on the porch of the house out band now occupies, after the rat related demise of its former owners, and handed out whiskey and business fliers to the revelers, when a shot range out. 

It was followed by a woman's scream, and Mr. Iornwall felt the necessity of investigating.  In the alley behind the saloon we discovered one Three Legs Hoolihan with a fellow contestant, Ms Pryce and a dead body.  The body had a hoel through its chest and was that of an accountant for the tournement.

Hoolihan and the lady both agreed that they'd come outside and found the victim with a shadowy figure lurking above it.  Hoolihan had shot, but missed the attacker.  We took the pair back to our abode and confirmed their stories with the hypnotist's tricks.

After letting both Hollihan and price our band walked to the sign in and I use dmy growing skills to determine who might be using magic in the contest.  Nothing special appeared to my sorcerously enhanced eyes, except for Lord Chuffington the snob goblin - who seemed to wear a magical monocle.  I confronted the fiend, but he was unflappable and I could tell nothing could be done short of violence.

I also attempted through subterfuge to sway the wits of the foreigner with the prehensile mustache, but failed.

When we returned to the house, we found Ms. Pryce waiting for us, apparently finding our company favorable to that of Hoolihan.  We let the lady sleep upstairs in response to her request for safety, but were not rewarded. In the dark of night a strange female figure attacked the Abel in his sleep.

Luckily he screamed and when I arrived in the kitchen, a monstrously transformed Ms. Pryce was attempting to impale Mr. Killijoy with elongating claws.  I blasted her with magic from a scroll I had previously prepared, that nasty spell that Kentworth charmed off of Professor Choat - the one with the pearly beetles*.  The spell, a cudgel blow, a blow with my pistol and the back breaking strength of Iornwall were not enough to end the mysterious creature. Finally Abel brained it with a frying pan, while Iornwall had it trapped in a bear hug.

Clearly a strange beast had assumed Ms. Pryce's form, as the former debutant melted into a gray puddle after the skillet blow.

Alas out plans bore no fruit and neither Mr. early or Ornibus Jones were able to advance past the first round.  Sadly the cheating snobgoblin walked off with the pot, a victory for foul play that I can't abide.

I am well established here now and if a young Owl is in need of the kind of opportunity only the raw frontier can provide I would welcome an assistant.  In another note - have any other Owls experienced unnatural aging due to the combination of whiskey consumption and increased thaumaturgic power? Please send a note if you're familiar with this effect.

*Per my random table of magic missiles Chauncy's magic missile spell causes opalescent beetles to hatch with the target and rapidly burrow out to fly off in an explosion of gore.



Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Wampus Country - Hey I won something!

So Eric of Wampus Country had a contest last month, and my submission involving how to die while flying in hot-air balloons battling terrordactyls and escaping angry clergymen happens to be the winner.

Seriously though! The reason I was able to write anything worthwhile is because Eric's setting is pretty amazing.  It's one of those concepts that sound simple, even silly occasionally, but he handles it with a combination of seriousness and frivolity that makes adventuring there an absolute delight.  I think this is because Wampus sticks to the farce of tall-tale rather than the bathos of "Weird West" that it feels fresh and appropriate for a RPG setting.   For example - witches abound, and they're eminently helpful, but also unpredictably terrible; they remove curses with rusting pinking shears (ominously keeping what they cut off) and accept sculpted cakes in the form of babies as payment.  This tone may sound silly, but in the moment that one's character is staring a dapper ghost in the invisible face with only a six shooter full of bullets carved from prehistoric monkey bones, 1/2 blessed by a snake oil salesman of a preacher, it's actually tantalizingly horrifying.

Anyways thank to Eric's groundwork I was able to write something he found interesting.  Check out the blog - it's worthwhile and interesting, a subversion of fantasy gaming tropes that somehow remains true to the spirit of the thing.

When the PDF comes out shortly you can all tell me how I inaccurately model falling damage and balloon movement.  Heck complain about the statistics of the Ugly Bird and I'll even try to defend them -"Silver John is 6th Level!(at best)"- as long as you check out Eric's Blog.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Wampus County Play Report - Session IV

Hastily written on scraps of several documents, including a burnt out sleep scroll, and sent by fast carrier to the cities of the West.

Dear Father,

I suppose I am becoming one of the locals here, slowly sliding into the vices of the frontier and gaining its callous virtues.  I have been drinking rather much of late, and killed my fair share of men.  I think one relates to the other, and I claim medicinal need for the alcohol as I am currently recovering from a wicked knife wound to the thigh.


Saturday, July 21, 2012

Wampus Country Play Report III

Your unreliable narroator returns, his memory fuzzy with a massive hangover and completely dashed as to how things ended up.  Chauncy Woolstrike - frontier wizard relates the following tale in hopes that it might get published in a digest or similar pamphlet.

Sadly for Chauncy, this is not the Stump Witch - by Adam Hughes
I, Chauncy Woolstrike, recent graduate with a Bachelors of Thaumaturgy and a minor in Necromancy have become a frontiersman, not entirely by choice, but not entirely by fate's cruel buffets - I am now more at home under the endless skies and creeping towards danger silently amongst the piney woods than I ever was amongst the brick and mortar wilderness of the cities.  My stalwart companions and I had rested from our encounter with a foul cult of ghost worshiping fiends and even saved a young woman from their clutches. Money was getting short, as a man of action, money is always getting short and I was in debt to a local witch for services rendered.  A man of the frontier does not renege on his promises, but more important than my debt to the local witch for hire, was the magical difficulty of one of my companions.

Ornibus Jones, a crude preacher of a detestable snake cult had contracted an ancient curse while banishing the fearful specter we discovered beneath the hunted beaver dam.   Ornibus no longer had the head of a man, but instead the cranium, face and bill of a giant platypus.  A hideous duck billed swamp rat of some variety, that nonetheless did not drastically mar his appearance. 

The first order for my companions and I, recently joined by a Mr. Kiljoy, a journalist and practitioner of the lesser magical arts newly arrived to Wampus, decided to seek out the dread stump witch, a harridan of uncertain species who dwells several miles from town and has a fearful reputation.  A hex mistress such as the Stump Witch could repair Ornibus's unnatural head, and for men of action such as ourselves the dangerous meeting with a powerful and insane sorceress was a lark in the woods.

Outfitting myself in dashing Wampus style, with a suit of black fringed buckskins, covered in mystical beadwork so as to advertise my status as one of the premier practitioners of academic magic on this savage frontier I also strapped a magical dagger taken from the tombs of the necronauts and a large revolver that I have named Leslie.  My trusty pepperbox pistol I had secreted as an unexpected surprise for any rube simple enough to think he could disarm me.

Fully equipped in the Wampus style, and after determining that the superstitious townsfolk were unsure if the Stump Witch had a sweet tooth or a hankering for the flesh of human children,  I commissioned the local confectioners to create a marzipan baby, life size as an offering to the Stump Witch.  I also made the ill fated decision to bring a bottle of strong liquor in case the baby failed to appease the witch.

Upon arrival at a filthy stump in the midst of a dismal wood we were able to bring forth the hideous, gnarled crone calling herself the stump witch.  It is unclear if she is human, and seems equally likely that she is some type of dryad, bent with age and adapted to these modern times. The witch made a deal, after taking the confection infant, apparently with some relish, she informed us that Ornibus's curse could be lifted in exchange for the removal of unknown larger beasts from her lands.

I climbed a tall tree at the suggestion of Mr. Kiljoy and soon knew our quarry was to the North-east. A short walk later our band came upon three large pachyderms of a distinctly magical cerise shade. The family group ignored my attempts, but Mr. Kiljoy was able to drive them of with a simple carnival magic trick (performed ably I will admit) - placing the emotion fear into the brutes.  We followed after them making sure that the elephants could not regain their calm until they were well out of the Stump Witch's lands.

Chauncy, as he was at the start of the session
On our return the witch removed Ornibus's curse, through the disturbing expedient of cutting the platypus head free and revealing his own beneath it.  The witch would not share my whiskey, but it was at this point I began to drink.

On a return to town our party decided to investigate rumors that the local tailors were troubled.  Nothing appeared amiss in their shop and I attempted to get their agreement to enter into a sponsorship deal so that Mr. early could enter a local gambling tournament.  Our good intentions established the tailors soon revealed that thier sleep and business had suffered due to the predations of some night time menace in the basement.

Upon investigation, it appeared that rats might be the cause, but to my keen (and perhaps altered) sensibility it seemed equally likely that the disturbance was the work of supernatural or trans-dimensional  monstrosities.  The intruder's tunnel led from the tailor's cellar to an abandoned house next door where our group discovered a cellar full of rats.  At this point I blacked out, but upon regaining my senses I understand that a horrible rat king was destroyed, along with the rest of the swarming rodents and the the haberdashers have agreed to sponsor our group's entry into the locale gambling tournament.

Friday, July 6, 2012

Wampus County Play Report II


The Terrifying Apparition

Wampus Country – Play Report II


Chauncy's report to anyone who will listen at the local tavern - spoken in incredibly drunken, highly affected tones. All typographical errors are for flavor. <hic>

We returned to the so called “man-hole”, Rev. Jones (itinerant snake cultist), Mr. Early (Shootist), Mr. Ironwall (Brawler), and I Chauncy Woolstrike TD. We were joined by a Ms. Tsian (a fellow practitioner) and a superstitious harridan by the name of Thalia, priestess of a foreign death cult.

Last week we'd discovered and brutalized a skeletal Cossack, and today we ventured beyond the gear locked door he guarded.

Beyond was a dreary passage, undecorated but pierced by four mysterious arches. Each arch was plugged with a thin plaster wall, painted with an antique skull. My erudition recognized these as the marks of an 500 year old death cult and I resigned myself to preserve these works for future generations.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Wampus Country Contest.

Do this! Do this now - Wampus Country is the best.

This! Illustration by Jim Calafiore, from Rex Riders
Vector Sigma of Wampus Country (which I always want to call Wampus County) is running a contest to sponsor the creation of a Western Penny Dreadful style set of game content.  The prizes are pretty great and the campaign world very fun - I can't recommend this highly enough!  Get it while it's hot.

Again here's the link:

CONTEST!

Friday, June 29, 2012

Wampus County - Play report.

Skeleton Knight by Maxarkes on Deviant Art


 Played a game in Wampus County last night - Google + worked well until the GM was apparently carried away by storms and hail.

My alter-ego was a 3D6 in order nebbish of a college twit named Chauncy.  He is an unreilavble narrator, but since he came into some gems decided to write home about his first Wampus experience.

Chauncy is a jerk, so when his overly bold 3HP self inevitably gets devoured by some terrible zombie beaver no one will feel sad.

Letter is as follows and the Heathen practices of Preacher Jones are only causally referred to for the delicacy of civilized readers.