look out below!

This month's RPG Blog Carnival about garbage and sewers (hosted by 6d6 RPG) drew me in.  After all, if I can write about this, then anything else is easy.

Emptying chamberpots from upstairs window was a feature of city life from ancient Rome to the Regency.  For centuries, urban streets served as open sewers. The infrastructure under your average medieval privy wasn't usually more than a pit. Even this yields fertile gaming ground.  This is before plumbing and the fantastic elements of magic, monsters and other realities.

So, let's start with the one thing all have in common...

Night soil

Before the sewer came the humble cess pit or cess pool, positioned under or away from the dwelling. Buckets or chamber pots would be emptied by servants. Some ancient cultures relied on gravity to transfer waste to the cesspit. These pits were sometimes perforated to assist with drainage of liquids into the soil. The leaching into the soil could be a problem so placement was serious business.  Too close to your water supply was fatal.  Sobering thought when foraging for water near a goblin camp.

Where there's muck, there's brass.

Over time, cess pits fill up. Night soil removal was antisocial yet lucrative. Often working at night, these rakers or night men used long-handled scoops and buckets to load the filth into barrels onto wagons for transportation to specific dumping grounds, certain river piers or marshes.  Some took their cargo to nearby farms for fertiliser.

A night-time urban chase scene involving a dung cart is memorably nasty for those involved.

As late as the 14th century, stories of homes collapsing into cesspits underneath were recorded. This was not just a commoner thing.  In 1183 at the Palace of Erfurt, the Holy Roman Emperor escaped death after a feast where many guests drowned in the cesspit.  Ironic sequel was Richard Raker, a London cesspit emptier whose privy collaped sending him to drown in his work in 1326.

Something to consider if you explore abandoned ruins.  Or a vile trap for the heavily-armoured. 

Not everyone could afford to pay this service or for the protection that it needed.  Gangs stoned night men or shot their horses as late as 1850 in New York if they weren't paid. Indiscriminate dumping was also a problem. Cities charged big fines for unauthorised dumping and beadles (church-sponsored or civic functionaries) supervised to keep the streets clean.  Few faiths want diseased worshippers.

Religions with hygiene laws may be actively involved.  Those acolytes must be good for something.

Sewers solving the problem

Sewers were intended to remove water (draining storm water or marsh) since Babylonian times and removal of waste was an incidental benefit.  Ancient China, Babylon, Crete, Egypt, Greece, Pakistan, Palestine and Rome built infrastructure to support. Crete and Greece had sewer arches big enough to pass through. Rome delayed adoption partly due to privacy concerns! The Romans under Emperor Vespasian built public urinals.  This (and a tax against urinating in public) kept Romans from fouling the stairs and collected urine for dye-making to boost the Emperor's coffers.

As with all ablutions, Romans made this social and gossip and intrigue could be conducted here. An enterprising ruler requires much wealth to provide this act of philanthropy.  Or slave labour on demand.

Where medieval sewers were kept away from streets (not often in Europe) they linked up to irrigation channels and solid traps for people to farm for fertiliser.  Tanners would hire people to bring pots of urine for coin. The practice of street vendors offering 'modesty cloaking' as a customer relieved themselves continued from Rome until the 17th century and later. Such vendors could learn many things. Toilets were decreed by law in France in the late 16th century though these would just feed back into chamber pots or earth closets. 

The concept of privacy was nascent even then.  Royal audiences could be conducted here as well as more sordid affairs and odd assassination attempts.

Sewer constrfuction boomed in the 19th century.  Steampunk dungeoneers may clear out monsters by Royal Charter for sewer engineers.  Later construction may inspire horror games.  Public urinals made their comeback, initially in Paris and India.  The industrial revolution and advent of rail mandated change.  As long-distance travel became ubiquitous, the need for privacy and restroom aesthetics increased alongside them.

Magical solutions & monstrous opportunities

The sewer offers down and dirty dungeoncrawling with added risks of disease, noxious gases and dubious water supply linked to canal, marsh, river or sea. Medieval sewers existed but enclosed sewers that people could travel along were rare in the real world until the 19th century.

Magical societies may have avoided atavism and linked sewers to canals or irrigation channels.  Magic may be used for sanitation, turning the sewage into something cleaner and more useful. Or it may transport it somewhere else.  Altruistic cities will work on safe transit.  Others may be less kind. Cloud castle cess pits are no laughing matter.  Oozes as clean-up crew make sense if you stop them climbing out into unauthorised areas. 

Such underground construction may be linked to cave networks. This would be a smuggler's paradise.  If there were underground catacombs, the décor would be spooky and occupants may be undead or hangers-on. From such fertile roots may megadungeons spring.  It may not just be water and waste in the cesspool. Alchemical wastes, wizardly experiments and unholy messes may alter the deal (and local residents) further.

Ecology of the sewer

This discussion is more interesting than some would have you believe.  The community above determines how active and large the population is below. The primary influx of energy is waste matter, just over a quarter of a pound (128g) per human per day from excreta.  Other sources of biomass are sometimes dumped into sewers, your call on how frequent and how much.  About 10% of biomass produced supports life at each trophic level.  The rest is lost to the messy business of living.  So for a city of 40,000 (say like Middle Ages London, by no means the largest city) that's 11,200lbs of potential biomass per day in a one mile area.

First trophic level is a mixture of bacteria, detritivore (e.g. flies, millipede, ooze), decomposer (e.g. fungi, mold), omnivore (e.g. cockroach) and where the sun rarely reaches, autotroph (algae).  About a half-ton (1,120 lbs) mean some sewers are lively even with flooding.  As long as the food keeps coming they're happy.  The higher levels won't starve.

Second trophic level includes larger detritivores, omnivores and primary consumers of the first trophic level.  Bats, centipedes, frogs, rats, small fish, spiders.  About 112 lbs per day keep near their food supply.  Remember 9 out of 10 don't get eaten and most of these live more than a day. Active but barring unusual local species, below our consideration.  Until something causes a swarm.  More on that later.

Third trophic level are secondary consumers. About 11 lb of biomass makes this the apex predator.  Maybe a few giant rats (for Princess Bride or James Herbert fans), a nest of vipers or a solitary, sewer-dwelling lynx.  Other visitors are desparate wanderers.  Bad food, poor water and plentiful disease discourage most.  Yet in winter, many options are considered.

Water is poor-quality as decay deoxygenates water.  This is mitigated by rain from storm drains.  Fish and molluscs survive where water is cleaner but drinking isn't advised and shellfish will be contaminated.  Disease is a real risk, your average bacillus ain't heavy and a teaspoon of Clostridium botulinus goes a long way. Beware brackish pools and fouled water.  Higher trophic levels can also scavenge from the waste directly.

Definitions of edible and serving suggestions vary by species.  Tweak towards interesting for your game.
 

Interfering with the ecology

Remember this is before adding other organic waste and missing persons. In a city of 40,000 souls, some will be evil.  Medieval homicide rates were higher (about 0.5 - 1%) and the body must go somewhere.  One person killed every day for a year is noticeable.  A scientific guess of one body a week dumped down the sewer makes about an extra 20lbs of protein per day for the omnivores and detritivores.  Now imagine how a serial killer or discreet murderhobo changes things. 

Missing folk and an explosion of vermin may raise questions.  Particularly if plague comes calling.

The vampire or wererat nest in a sewer is classic.  Imagine Welles' The Third Man with wererats?  Now add those swarms mentioned earlier.  Constructs may work tirelessly to stop blockages.  Elementals may be twisted by this environment.  Outsiders and otherworldly monstrosities may adopt a sewer for their own bizarre purposes or perhaps in memory of home.

Undead may depopulate or shift the ecology.  Ghouls may be a problem if there's linked catacombs.

Speaking of scavengers, fungoids, rat-folk and other carrion crawlers may find the sewers ideal.  More mundane monsters may include big snakes, crocodiles and octopoid monsters like sewer squid or darkmantles. Oozes and slimes are obvious clean-up crew, quite a few climb and squeeze through tiny openings.  An amorphous self-cleaning killer may be tricky for investigative types.

 ...to another is treasure!

Scavenged loot may be taken magpie-like by sewer dwellers. It may be hastily discarded. It's not likely to be the wealth of ages.  Yet the oddest things have a way of ending up down there.   It's more likely loot is incidental and small.  Stories and rumours may say differently.  While a dragon's hoard is unlikely down here, it's not an obvious hiding place is it?

As with everything, history trumps the fevered imagination. Keeping it primitive may boost grimdark quotient and Rabelaisian bawdry.  Magical sewers require an interesting backstory.  The who, why and when matter.  The threat of disease, monsters and worse (the smell!) motivates heroes or profiteers.  It may also motivate villains.  Plenty for a GM to work with.

assorted dungeon keys

And if you thought the lock was unusual, check out the keys.  Roll d12.

1. Bronze master key.  Fits 50% of locks on this level or in this part of the dungeon. 
2. Darkwood key with long shank.  Totally non-conductive for electricity.  May be useful for an electrified lock? 
3. Fulgurite key of hexagonal shape that reduces electrical damage by 2 points when used to open an electrified lock. Worth 300gp. 
4. Heavy key of magical red-veined iron that reduces heat or fire damage by 2 points when placed in a lock that radiates heat or flames.  Worth 300gp. 
5. Jet key set into ring carved from a single piece of stone used by ancient wizards.  Warm to the touch, suitable focus for magic jar.  Worth 250gp to arcane collectors, 200gp otherwise.
6. Leaden key that reduces negative energy damage by 1 point if inserted into a lock charged with negative energy. Worth 150gp.
7. Naga-bone key of interlocking small bones for the blade and a bone cameo for the bow.  Worth 200gp for the craftmanship and exotic material. 
8. Plaited red gold and faience key with spiralling blade and bow shaped as a miniature shepherd's crook.   The crook is used to disable a needle trap on certain locks by those in the know.  Worth 300gp to the right people, 150gp to the uninitiated.
9. Rusted iron key with letters SIR etched on bow.  This key radiates moderate transmutation magic.  If placed inside a metal lock, and the word 'SIR' is spoken, lock and key collapse into flakes of rust. This destroys and unlocks the particular lock.  The key is only usable once.  Worth 700gp.
10. Topaz key of rose and orange hue.  Enchanted to be tough as steel.  Worth 600gp due to craftmanship and enchantment. 
11. Vampiric skeleton key, works on locks 50% of time. If touched by bare skin drains 1 point of Constitution then open locks 75% of the time until next sunrise.  Will not be inserted into a lock in sight of a holy symbol.  Constitution loss is recovered by 8 hours sleep
12. X-bladed silver key.  Fits a specific superior lock that imposes a -20% (-4) to picking due to wards.

archeloid

No. Enc.: 1d6 (2d8 in lair)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 90'(30')
Armour Class: 4
Hit Dice: 3+3
Attacks: 1 (by weapon)
Damage: 1d8 or weapon +1
Save: F3
Morale: 10
Hoard Class: XX

These large, hairless creatures appear like bulbous-headed humanoids in form-fitting leathery exoskeletons. They are however curiously passive unless treasure is present.  A former slave race of labourers, their great strength gives them +1 to damage using weapons.  The archeloid says little but does much.  They are also naturally stealthy, against unprepared opponents, they gain surprise 50% of the time.

Archeloids can be found in distant caves or ruins and can be easily fascinated by treasure.  Bright and gaudy items are preferred.  Strong personalities can dominate them into service.  Yet archeloids bear grudges when injured, if they fail a morale check, they attack their 'master'.  The master must therefore always appear to be strong to avoid this fate.

inns & taverns: the honey pot

The Honey Pot is famed for it's mead.  As both inn and apiary, it excels.  Those skittish around bees are warned away.  Stories of bees attacking rowdies help keep troublemakers out.  That said, there are few inns as good (or as well-loved) as this one.

The Honey Pot is a hexagonal tower of grey stone, three floors high and forty feet across.  It's roof is lead-clad oak.  Visible from outside town, it sits conspicuously on a hill surrounded by halfling cottages and orchards.  Green-stained flowerboxes hang from shuttered windows, giving much needed colour in summertime.  Ceramic latticed bricks vent air and occasional bees.  The front doors are carved in interlocking hexagons and stained golden-brown to look like honeycomb.  A sign of amber glass and iron declares wealth.

Entering by the front door reveals a trapezoidal lounge with a low-set bar against the long wall and ascending stair on the far wall.  The low tables each have a jug with a beeswax candle.  The ceramic grills let in sunlight and air.  Halflings find the place just perfect.  Taller races and the naturally clumsy find it tricky to maneouver at first.  To the right, the traveller in need can find a triangular privy.  Beyond the lounge is a diamond-shaped kitchen kept immaculate by the chefs and the maid.  Upstairs, the building is divided into a narrow external corridor with six triangular rooms in which Firya and the staff dwell.  These are windowless yet heavily decorated.  Stairs lead up from Firya's and Kaldo's quarters into the top floor.  Here are six active beehives and numerous jars and boxes for gathering comb, honey, wax and other goods.  Beneath the bar, the cellar is well-kept though better suited to halflings than humans.  The stone walls and earthen floors are lit by lamps of beeswax and piled high with stock.  Sacks on the wall hold batches of short mead ready for production.

Patrons enjoy a selection of drinks.  Three kinds of mead are served.  Strawhead, an effervescent short mead is pale, quaffable and served in half-pint tankards at 5 copper a time. Hivegold, a potent wine-like sack mead is served in goblets and priced at 2 silver.  Rosegold is a tart dark rhodomel made with rosewater, elderberry and apple, served in clay tumblers for 2 copper a time.  A floral metheglin made with camomile and meadowsweet is sometimes sold in the same measure for the same price.  Unrepentent beer drinkers are delighted to find a dark, creamy walnut ale for two copper a half-pint.

For food, the poor may enjoy oatcakes and baked turnips along with a measure of watered Strawhead for 2 copper.  Most patrons indulge in a bread pudding which hold pork pieces marinaded in honey and cider vinegar.  For good friends, Firya or Kaldo may instruct the chefs to go to town on honey-roasted suckling pig with baked turnips and candied apples.

There are no rooms at the Honey Pot.  Firya may invite adventurers to sleep in the lounge for some daring tale or new song.  She misses her old life.  Kaldo is no sufferer of fools or scroungers. "Only for a night friends." is what he says as the cooks simultaneously begin dicing pork with cleavers at the hearth.

The landlady, Firya stands tall for a human.  Flaxen hair shot with silver falls behind her shoulders.  Her dark wooden kirtle reeks of smoke, hiding warrior's scars and paired daggers.  Steel-eyed, she takes assured, unhurried steps.  Her contralto voice purrs threats or pierces the hubbub.   Distinctive among the usual mix of halfling and human labourers and goodwives, she led armies to victory in another life.

Her staff are seven halflings.  Kaldo, their manager, is dapper in dark curls, hooded eyes and oxblood waistcoat. His courtly manners and grace makes ladies swoon.  Jirgo and Ferdo, twin exuberantly ginger cooks make a show of preparation and delicious food.  Magda and Yulisa, immaculate barmaids tend bar first and gossip second.  Their deductive skills put secretive types on edge.  Chenna, the maid is flirty, feisty and flint-hearted.  If the city calls, she'll make a find assassin.  Treyo, the grizzled gardener tends herbs and bakes loaves shaped like tortoises or ducks.  His gruff exterior hides an angelic smile and skill with knives.

• Cloaked and cowled strangers visit, reeking of smoke.  The bees ignore the formians at first but grow increasingly agitated.  They have a business deal that Firya won't like but Kaldo might.
• Firya has made powerful enemies.  They hired a fire-breathing wizard to kill her.  Fortunately he is an overconfident braggart.  Unfortunately he is likely to succeed unless taken down swiftly.

lake slaver

No. Enc.: 1 (1d4 in lair)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 30' (10')
Swim: 120' (40')
Armor Class: 6
Hit Dice: 6d8
Attacks: 2 (tentacle lashes) or spell.
Damage: 1d6/1d6 or spell.
Save: M3
Morale: 6
Hoard Class: VIII + XII

These strange, aquatic creatures resemble an octopus with human mouth and four fanged tentacles sprouting six-foot long from a bulbous body the size of a bear.  They live in freshwater lakes, rarely venturing out unless food is scarce.  The creature itself can defend itself by lashing out with it's tentacles but only two can attack at any time.  They know a little magic, being able to cast charm person and read magic once a day as a 2nd-level magic-user. They communicate by telepathic speech understood by the recipient.

They spawn every spring, releasing hundreds of fluke -like larvae (AC9, 1 hit point).  These attempt to latch onto passing creatures, often as they sleep.  Animals are slowly killed by the larva draining it's blood (lose 1 hit point per day).  The larva drops off after 6 days and undergoes a chrysalis stage of a week to become an adult lake slaver.  If the creature can speak, the larva secretes a local sedative and burrows under the skin (detect as a secret door).  It also stops growing and undergoes certain changes.  This places the creature under the telepathic control of the parent (as charm person).  This can be broken as per the spell.  Dispel magic (vs. a 6th-level caster) or cure disease will remove an infestation.

The lake slaver will try to control a lakeside community and spawn.  Their innate distrust of each other and parasitic lifecycle limits them though. They lust after scrolls and spellbooks, trying to lure magic-users into being infected so they can 'share their magic'.

assorted dungeon locks

Not all locks are created equal.  Some of them are positively odd.

1. Axehead-shaped steel lock of good quality dwarven manufacture. Keyhole where haft would go and intricate wards make it difficult (-10%/-2) to pick.  Worth 150gp to dwarves, 135gp elsewhere. 
2. Crescent moon-shaped superior lock of silver-plated iron. Fiendishly difficult (-10%/-2) to pick due to curved positioning of tumblers.  Worth 250gp to the right people.
3. Dusty copper average lock enchanted to give electrical shock (2d8 damage, save 1/2s) to anyone touching with conductive metal (like most thieves tools) or bare flesh.  Faint, tell-tale hum warns the observant.  Worth 500gp to someone non-conductive.
4. Gorgon-faced average lock weeping red waxy fluid from eyes and keyhole.  This waxy fluid is contact poison, causing a loss of 1d6 Dexterity for 2d6 turns (save for half effect and duration).  The residue loses potency after 1d4 rounds  but the discolouration remains unless washed in wine.  Worth 40gp as the weeping wax is a curse.
5. Knotwork-engraved gold-plated steel lock of good quality and elven manufacture.  Worth 240gp.
6. Mermaid-shaped simple lock of brass and tin, average quality, keyhole where navel is.  Worth 20gp.
7. Ordinary lock of brass and iron, average quality.  Worth 40gp.
8. Quartz lock of good quality.  Immune to rusting effects, difficult (-10%/-2) to pick due to stiff crystalline tumblers.  Worth 630gp. 
9. Sea lock of blue steel will only admit a key when the tide is out, pushing the key out of keyhole at all other times.  Magic can be used to unlock as normal.  Superior quality, worth 1000gp to right people.
10. Umbral lock of lead and iron - only be opened by magic or the shadow of the correct key inserted into the keyhole.  Skeleton keys have a 20% of working if their shadow is inserted into the keyhole.
    Worth 200gp as a novelty.
11. Wolfshead-shaped simple lock of pewter and iron, keyhole hidden underneath plate on which wolfshead is mounted.  Worth 20gp.   
12. Yellow-golden (actually iron pyrite) average lock shaped to resemble a smiling actor's mask.
    Keyhole in right eye.  If left eye keyhole used, a magic mouth activates "Oh dear. You never go left." then commences raucous laughter that provokes a wandering monster check.  Works once only, worth 100gp.

zombie, tarhide

No. Enc.: 1d4 (2d6 in lair)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 120' (40')
Armor Class: 7
Hit Dice: 3d8
Attacks: 1 (weapon)
Damage: 1d8 or weapon (see below)
Save: F2
Morale: 12
Hoard Class: None

Tarhide zombies are undead corpses coated in dark tarry fluids and reanimated by sinister Chaotic magic. They are a little smarter than normal zombies, enough to handle simple commands.  Chaotic spell casters who create them use them as guards.  Those in melee with a tarhide zombie must make a save vs. paralysation each round or suffer a cumulative -1 attack penalty (to a maximum of -4) as their weapons stick to the zombie.  Multiple tarhide zombies impose a -1 penalty to the saving throw per additional zombie in melee.    Like other undead they are unaffected by sleep, hold or charm spells.  Tarhide zombies are turned as ghouls.  They also enjoy eating flesh and those killed by a tarhide zombie usually have bite marks.

inns & taverns: the three fort knights inn

The Three Fort Knights Inn births rumours.  Tales of the three brother-knights, hellish hounds and kindly djinn grow in the telling.  It's position as a hill top forces municipal stable use.  Inconvenience discourages casual travellers from closer investigation.  The nearby slum is not salubrious.  The knights are dead yet the howls and keening winds at night-time say the tale continues.  For all these hardships, the inn prospers.

The dusty approach road to the inn is jostling with angular slum-houses, all gables and gantries.  They draw back a little from the inn.  The inn is a white stone roundhouse with circular doors and shuttered green-stained porthole windows.  Beneath these stand pots of flourishing spearmint.  The roof is tiled in spiraling slates with two chimneys to the east and west.  The walls are half-sunk into the hilltop.  A blue banner showing three white stars over a white fort serves as the inn's sign.

Inside the rooms resemble an over-sized halfling's burrow.  An eclectic collection of seating in every elliptical nook allow nearly a hundred to sit nearby.  A gentle slope descends from the front door to a north-facing oval lounge served by served by circular bar.  The oval extends east and west with a circular hearth at each corner.  Four benches seating eight each extend like wheel spokes from the hearths.  The whole effect resembles a gigantic eye.

There are four exits in the north and south walls.  Each is hung with bead and bell curtains.  The noise from these discourages eavesdropping and they reveal anything passing through.  This simple precaution has prevented all manner of problems.  The northern exits lead outwards to oval rooms.  Furthest north-east is a bustling kitchen.  The nearest northeast and northwest rooms are simple lounges sharing access to a spiral staircase leading down into the common room.  The far northwest opens into a magically-lit communal washroom with alcoves for eight privies.  Flourishing potted lavender and rosemary bushes keep the smell tolerable.

The southern exits also lead outwards to oval rooms.  The far southeastern room is a lounge for private meetings.  The near southeastern room is a lounge for the staff with stairs leading to basic rooms for Yusuf and Califea.  The southwestern room is a lobby with a spiral stair to the guest rooms. The far southwestern room is warm and spacious, Yusuf keeps a double-mash brewery running here.  Barrels are lowered by pulley via a hatch into the cellar.

The bottom level comprises three areas, isolated from each other.  The northernmost is a common room capable of holding twelve in comfort.  The central chamber is the cellar, kept near-perfectly by Yusuf and his staff.  A hatch in the south-east links to the brewery.  The last area is a small hallway with six curved doors. Each leads to a well-appointed guestroom.  All have circular feather beds with quilts, cushions and covered chamberpots.

A free house, regulars sup from long, cylindrical pot tankards called 'towers'.  A strong amber ale spiced with rosemary is sold for 4 copper, while a paler, small beer spiced with lavender is sold for 2 copper.  A local red wine, rough and phenolic is bought by hardened drinkers and connoisseurs of dubious merit.  The hearths produce delicious chambered pies, half cooked lamb, half rose hip and mint jelly for five silver. Circular pancakes cook on flatirons for two copper each.  Califea enjoys making stacks of pancakes. Porridge is also sold for two copper.

A common room berth costs 3 silver a night.  Popular after sunset as howling dogs and wind vie outside and people wax drunken and lazy.  The guestrooms are 3 gold a night and may be the best sleep in the city.  All accommodation is sufficiently underground the howls outside are unheard.

Yusuf is an odd yet genial landlord. Gaunt, pallid, perpetually windswept, he strides purposefully as he serves, his eyes contemplating three moves ahead. He knows magic yet he excels in brewing and knowledge of his djinn and noble ancestors.

Califea, cook and barmaid, loves the Inn.  Her boyish face and good singing voice charm guests yet her crude humour shocks prudes.  She prefers women, finding men diffident  lovers.  Would-be rakes find emasculating insults and her knives deterrent against groping hands.

Old Shamshir, the potboy is a grizzled, scarred veteran  whose eyes glow weirdly in lamp-light.  Drinking on duty is normal for him.  Clad in faded and patched cassock and trews, his dishevelled features are capped by a box hat.  He keeps a curved knife in case.

The other staff are casual barmaids from the slums or labourers working their way back east.  Quite a few barmaids dance for a living, practicing their art to keep the drinks flowing steadily.  A few supplement their trade by pickpocketing drunks.  Yusuf and Old Shamshir are fiercely protective of their people.  Violence is not tolerated with the notable exception of Califea dealing with unwanted attention from drunkards.

• Yusuf will sometimes consult sages.  Sometimes they give him good advice.  Sometimes he will take extra precautions against invisible intruders.  
• Old Shamshir loves hashish pollen.  When ships bring it to town, he books a guest room and proceeds to party for about two weeks.  Meanwhile Yusuf needs a potboy and charmingly brutal doorman... 
• Word of the inn reaches a mystic order.  They are aware of the hounds, seeking seek to avoid the brother-knights' doom.  Their interest in the inn is purely strategic.  The curious will find them unsavoury indeed.

unlikely treasures 2: yet even more loot for the taking

Roll d12 for the loot!

1. Bastard sword with silver wire-wrapped hilt (350gp).
   Weighs 8 lbs.  Masterwork quality (+1 non-magical to hit) steel, suitable for enchanting as a magical weapon. Silver wire on hilt is worth 15gp.
2. Scroll in wooden scroll tube (300gp).
   Weighs 1 lb. This is a credit note to a reputable horse trader for one combat-trained heavy warhorse sealed by local nobility to be provided to the bearer.
3. Torc of wrought gold tipped with green gems (275gp).
   Weighs 2 lb. Gems are peridots (50gp each). Torc worth 125gp if gems removed.  Suitable for nobility of either sex. 
4. Alabaster casket with 20 balls of resin (250gp).
   Weighs 5 lbs. Casket weighs 3 lb and is worth 50gp empty.  Resin is exotic incense (each ball weighs 0.1 lbs, burns for 1 hour, worth 10gp). 
5. Minature greatsword letter-opener (250gp).
   Weighs 1/2 lb.  Made of platinum.  Suitable as spell focus for mage's sword spell. 
6. Ornate silver armband with black gem (250gp).
   Weighs 2lbs.  Gem is jet (100gp value).  Armband worth 100gp if gem removed. 
7. Repeating light crossbow (250gp).
   Weighs 6lbs. Magazine holds 5 bolts.  Can be fired one-handed.  Requires 2 hands to reload or to replace magazine.
8. Suit of dwarf-sized banded mail (250gp).
   Weighs 35lbs. +7AC; Armour penalty -6. Spell failure 35%.  Kept in immaculate condition.
9. Tiger-skin robe (250gp).
   Weighs 4lbs. Cut to fit a tall human female.  Suitable for court or nobility.  Will upset weretigers and those with tiger totems somewhat.
10. Two folios bound in red scaled hide (250gp).
    Weighs 14lbs. These are diplomatic letters and notes bound in dyed snakeskin. Each weighs 7 lbs and mirrors the other in terms of content.  If consulted for 1d4 hours prior, the reader may do one of the following.
• Create a letter of introduction which gives +2 to any reaction check with local officials or nobility.
• Gain a +2 to any Knowledge (nobility) check using the detailed histories of local noble families.
• Create a coded message (which takes 10 times as long) that imposes a -10 penalty to anyone trying to decode the message without either book.
11. Suit of elf-sized ornate golden armour (225gp). Weighs 20lb. Masterwork gold-plated steel parade armour (+3AC; no armour penalty, 15% spell failure). Consists of plated epaulets and lightweight mail hauberk over chest only.
12. Ornate silver chalice decorated with holy symbols. (200gp).
    Weighs 2 lbs.  This chalice is used to sanctify liquids poured into it and can hold up to a pint of fluid.

recap: labyrinth lord bestiary V

Roll 1d12 for your doom.

1. brutyarasa
2. crinikulu
3. falcassin
4. jectatura
5. ossuriad
6. onyx fly
7. reekling
8. tesonke
9. whisperdoom
10. xenoptryx
11. ynimone 
12. yowling spirit

assorted dungeon fires

Roll 1d12 for the burning.

1. Bed of hot embers used for firewalking and post-firewalk barbecue.  Trial by firewalking used by nearby humanoids to determine innocence.  Last meal of condemned takes on whole new meaning.
2. Cooking fire for cauldron of mystery stew. 1 in 6 chance cauldron is occupied by something that would prefer being the eater.  1 in 6 chance of hand or conspicuous body part floating to surface.
3. Divinatory fire used by oracles in diverse ways to predict fate or fortune.  1 in 6 chance an oracle will be available to offer advice on a course of action.  This is totally accurate 70% of the time.
4. Funeral pyre for 1d4 Medium-sized corpses; burning quite lively, difficult to distinguish species due to smoke and charred flesh.  1 in 6 chance some grave goods survive the flames.
5. Furnace used to smelt iron.  A bloomery with chimney stack and animated bellows.  Can create up to 30lbs of iron in a day.  About a week's charcoal and two sledge hammers are stored nearby. 
6. Masonry stove used to heat room and bake.  Uses wood or coal. 1 in 6 chance it is magical.
   Magical stoves can talk and will create 1d6 loaves of rye bread if lit and tended by anyone willing to talk for 6d6 minutes. 
7. Open-hearth forge for creating arms, armour and even  ironwork.  Forge is ready-lit, tended by twin dwarves. Magic is not welcome here without hefty bribes.
8. Punishment for 1d4+2 criminals of heinous crime versus faith and local ruler.  Stakes and pyres are already burning.  1% chance a criminal survives, smell doubles chance of wandering monsters. 
9. Purifying fire being jumped over by 2d4+2 humanoids; taking turns to goad each other into jumping over the fire in order to purge themselves of spiritual taint.  Sinful items are fuelling the flames. 
10. Refining fire kindled to burn off alchemical dross; fumes cause nausea if inhaled (Fortitude DC12, nauseated for 2d6 rounds).  1 in 6 chance of 1d6 gold nuggets (worth 50gp each), still red hot.
11. Sacrificial fire for 1d3 Medium-sized creatures fully aflame.  Offerings are already dead but anointed bodies burn excellently in any event.  Extinguishing will incur divine wrath from nearby clerics.
12. Self-immolating fanatic makes supreme sacrifice to immolate tyrant.  Direct contact does 4d6 fire damage; anyone in 5' risks 1d6 damage.  1 in 6 chance that tyrant's bodyguards notice in time.

whisperdoom

No. Enc.: 1d4 (1d6)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement:  120' (40')
Fly:  240' (80')
Armor Class: 4
Hit Dice: 4
Attacks: 1 (touch)
Damage: 1d4 + whisper (see below)
Save: F4
Morale: 12
Hoard Class: XIV

The whisperdoom is a gaunt, robed undead figure whose eyeless face peers from underneath a hood and whose mouth moves in continuous sibilant whispers.  The robes are often marked by signs of torture or penitence.  They cannot be harmed by normal weapons, needing silver or magical weapons to be hurt.  Like all undead they are immune to charm, hold and sleep spells.  A whisperdoom attacks by grasping it's target then whispering in it's ear.  This whisper causes the loss of 1 WIS for 6 turns. If someone is reduced to WIS 0, they permanently become a whisperdoom.  Any whisperdoom is subject to turn undead, being treated as a wight.

inns & taverns: the red tavern

The Red Tavern is the heart of a thriving mining village made famous by pilgrimage and dancing girls.  Both travel the same roads here. Well-spoken of by pilgrim and dancer alike, The Red Tavern sustains and shelters those who visit.  Detours are taken to visit in some cases.

Conspicuous amid grimy thatched stone bungalows, the two storey Red Tavern gives much-needed colour and joy to village life.  The exterior is painted in assorted reds.  The dark scarlet sign has the words Red Tavern in bright cherry script, side lit by a lantern.  A hedged garden on the southern wall provides a suntrap. In summer and autumn, the eastern hedge is tangled with raspberry and bramble.  The western wall borders a stable with five stalls.  A grey mare (once a famous cleric's mount) owned by the landlady is permanently resident.

Inside, the plaster is stained dark red.  Tables and durable chairs of red-stained oak and mahogany support patrons through good and bad.  Candles illuminate while spilling their guts over iron wall mounts.  The taproom is a sizable rectangle, dominated by a hearth in the south and shuttered doors in the west.  The north wall has a bar and spiral stair ascending to guest rooms and descending to kitchen, privy and cellar.

Patrons enjoy a russet ale and a dark mild for 4 cp a pint.  Four pint clay jugs are sold for 2 sp but 4 cp is earned on a jug's return.  A decent red wine and raspberry wine are served as well as fortified port.  In winter, these may also be mulled.  On midwinter's day, the landlady serves the first mulled drink free to all who come in.  This generosity is usually more than repaid.  The food shows halfling roots in it's diversity.  For a copper, oat biscuits, candied figs and peppermint sugar cake.  For two silver, a pot pie with meat in ale. For 3 gp, a suckling pig is roasted in honey, served with flatbread and spiced pickles.

The Red Tavern has a common room that sleeps twelve behind a pair of folding doors from the main taproom.  This is only used at night.  Typically visiting pilgrims use this for 2 sp and 1d6 are found here in early spring.  Patched blankets are hung for privacy.  Two guest rooms upstairs (2 gp a night) sport locks, ornate patchwork bedding and front-facing windows.  Needless to say, these rooms are in demand.

The landlord, Sandor Duis, has character.  Spry for sixty winters, white whiskers and plaid waistcoats belie the gleam in young blue eyes.  Sandor is a genial host but not in charge.  That falls to his wife, Trisia Duis, force of nature and landlady.  Seemingly ageless, always in velvet.  Brown ringlets crown this bustling yet comfortable woman, her husky voice singing bawdy verse or chuckling.  Food is cooked and served by Mabla, a rosy-cheeked halfling who'd grace any kitchen portrait.  Dancing girls also frequently work the Red Tavern.  Trisia brooks no nonsense and faces down armed knights and drunken miners with over-pawing hands.  Nearly all locals will back her up.

A mixture of dancing girl, drunken miner and tired pilgrim can sometimes be explosive.  Sandor and Trisia can usually quell problems but sometimes things escalate.  The miners will avenge any slights to honour. Experienced pilgrims do not flash coin unless sudden interest from dancing girls and others is sought.

The tentative interplay between pilgrim and dancing girl is a comedy of manners as well as errors.  Trisia will sometimes play matchmaker with odd couples.  Sandor rolls his eyes while befriending them.  Yet true love never runs smooth, some pilgrims are deeply troubled compared to the dancing girls.

Most local miners are hard-working, hard-drinking and like watching the dancing girls.  A few take this too far and were barred.  Their revenge is waylaying an occasional lone pilgrim.  This has not been fatal yet but one unlucky pilgrim was beaten black and blue by them.  Word has begun to spread of the bandits…

reekling

No. Enc.: 1d4 (5d4 in lair)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 90'(30')
Armor Class: 6
Hit Dice: 1
Attacks: 3 (claw/claw/bite)
Damage: 1d3/1d3/1d3
Save: F1
Morale: 7
Hoard Class: XIII

Small humanoid newt-like reptiles with brown, slimy skin.  Reeklings are opportunistically vicious unless met with strong force.  Their slimy skin is offputting  to mammals, humans and demihumans.  Those within 30' of a reekling must make a saving throw vs. poison or suffer a -1 penalty to attack rolls.  The presence of four or more reeklings (such as a reekling lair) increases this to a -2 penalty. Those hit by a reekling suffer this penalty until they can clean the affected area.  Reeklings can move silently (53%) and hide in shadows (47%) as a 7th-level thief , though the smell is notable.

assorted dungeon vents

This corridor may serve another purpose.  Roll d12 for unexpected environmental change!

1. Acidic vapours do 1d4 damage per round exposure (save for half), causes exposed metallic surfaces to be pitted unless made of gold, silver, mithril or adamantine. 
2. Air shaft with steady wind, constant turbulence makes it hard to hear.  1 in 12 chance of extinguishing non-magical flames (candles, torches etc.) or plucking loose or flimsy items (e.g. scrolls) from grasp.  
3. Brine pipe used for cooling or solution mining.  Salt water has no intrinsic harmful effects.  May rust exposed metal if left untended for more than a day.
4. Dust-bearing vent.  Fortitude save (DC12) or be blinded for 1d4 rounds.  Anything invisible or hiding is outlined after 1d4 rounds exposure. Scrubbing off takes 2d8 rounds.
5. Exhaust bearing away noxious fumes, cinders and smoke from forges.  Visibility limited to 20'.  1 in 4 chance of being hit by a cinder for 1 point fire damage.  Fortitude save (DC10) to avoid 1 point temporary Con damage every hour.
6. Flaming gas for heating or illumination does 2d4 damage per round exposure (save for half), ignites flammable items.  Flames go out after 1d6 rounds.
7. Gas pipe carrying strange vapours to different parts of the dungeon.  Inhalation may induce effects including blindness, exhaustion, poison, sleep or others (DM's discretion).  
8. Heating vent doubles chance for random encounters due to near body temperature heat.  Infravision is blurred out here (-2 to attempts to notice anything). 
9. Steam vent reduces visibility to 15 feet.  Fortitude save (DC12) per minute or become fatigued due to excessive heat until leaving area.  1 in 4 chance of scalding cloud causing 1d6 damage lasting for 1d4 rounds.
10. Stinkpipe used to vent noxious vapours from underground cesspits or sewers.  Fortitude save (DC12) or become nauseated within the vent and for 1d4 rounds afterwards.
11. Sulphur vent.  Fortitude save (DC12) or be nauseated within the vent and 1d4 rounds afterwards. 1 in 4 chance of burning cloud for 1d4 fire damage for 1 round only. 
12. Water vent sprays water and chill vapour.  Visibility limited to 30'.  1 in 4 chance of blinded by gout of water for 1 round (Reflex save (DC10) avoids).  50% chance of non-magical flames (candles, torches etc.) extinguished.

onyx fly

No. Enc.: 1d6 (2d6 in lair)
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 90' (30')
     Fly: 180' (60')
Armor Class: 5
Hit Dice: 2
Attacks: 1 (bite)
Damage: 1d6
Save: F1
Morale: 8
Hoard Class: VI

The onyx fly is about 3' long with variegated black and white banding.  While they prey on giant bees, they will attack anything with blood, jumping up to 30' horizontally or 10' vertically to attack.  The black and white banded carapace makes excellent disruptive camouflage in dungeon shadows, combined with it's jumping and stealth, allows the onyx fly to surprise 1 to 3 on d6.  In addition, if exposed to bright light (sunlight or a continual light spell), the carapace shimmers in ways painful to those viewing, giving the onyx fly a +2 to Armour Class.  This effect is lost when the onyx fly dies.

inns & taverns: the grinning goblins

While connoisseurs find a goblin-run alehouse bizarre, the Grinning Goblins Inn proves unusual ideas, like goblins, sometimes work.  While not perfect, it serves well enough. Patronage by paladin and noble alike has ensured it's longevity beyond the first winter.  Even the goblins seem to accept this alternative lifestyle. Only dwarves and gnomes refuse.

A charming and sprawling millstream bungalow with working water-wheel, olive-green painted stones and thatched roof.  A rustic haybarn nearby doubles as stable.  Another low-lying building smells strongly of malt and hops.  The door is ironbound oak stained red.  Next to the cellar door a narrow tunnel mouth yawns, wide enough for a goblin.   A carved oaken post by the door with three grinning goblin heads is the pub sign.

Inside, the walls are cream plaster rossed by black-stained oak beams decorated with horse brasses. These form quite the well-polished collection.  A framed manuscript by the local countess gives her protection in perpetuity to all Pale Stone goblins.  This unusual document hangs by the door.  Written in black by this is 'By noble decree, harm no goblin here'.  Etched in dwarf rune on a beam next to it 'They are serious. Leave now.'  Beyond this, a curved bar on the north-east corner watches a south-pointing L-shaped taproom. Long benches and seats occupy the long part of the L, seating twenty footmen or commoners.  Doors to the kitchen, cellar and privies are found in the western wall. The short east-west section is seated in an open enclosure suited for eight courtiers.  At the south-eastern corner of the section, a door leads away to three eastern rooms.  The first is a common room, comfortably sleeping a dozen. The second is locked, leading to Rutgor's spartan quarters.  Beneath the inn are tunnels to accommodate a dozen goblins, now only used by the four staff.

Patrons enjoy Mercyful Maid, a robust, thirst-quenching brown ale redolent of hops and inspiring flatulence. The cultured may prefer the red wine or a small glass of mead.  Then there is the house special.  Centipede Ale is a dark, muddy brew with considerable kick able to remove tarnish from silverware.  Those who sup in drow cities may find it  oddly familiar.  The food is equally eclectic.  A thick stew of meat and turnips is sold to the poor.  This is given at midwinter to any who ask.  Those with a little more coin may enjoy spit-roast chicken, mincemeat pudding or black pudding with baked tomatoes or pickled cabbage.  If a noble calls, no punches are pulled.  Beef haunches, honey-sweetened cakes and fruit grace the tables while ale and wine flows freely.

The aforementioned common room may be used for three silver a night.  The two stately guestrooms cost ten gold a night and rightly so.  The third is a corridor to two stately guestrooms.  Each is worthy of nobility, with down comforters, feather pillows and an enchanted clawfoot tin bath.  The baths heat any water poured in. This is heated to the bather's desire and never painfully hot for the bather to endure.  The baths cannot fit through the door without magic.  Water is retrieved from the stream outside by Luuz.

The landlord, Rutgor, is an ex-soldier.  Salt-and-pepper cropped hair and livid scarring at his neck denote a hard life.  Gimlet eyes seal all deals.  His rasping voice is equally adept giving orders or parlaying with nobles in matters of etiquette.  His only failing is backing the wrong political faction.  The family of goblins he was given command of are drilled to perfection as capable inn staff.  The last of the Pale Stone tribe tread carefully. Derg is scrawny yet nimble.  Shorn scalp, beady-eyed and in near-matching clothes, he is a capable maitre d'. Zhuj is his nemesis wife.  The nearest thing to a goblin diva, she cooks and brews with dwarven productivity.  Sturr is a proficient pot goblin.  Gathering tankards with unusual stealth, he like to whisper sweet nothings to highborn women paralysed by decorum.  Luuz works the kitchen, beaded braids hiding her face.  She hopes someone will take her away from the drudgery that Sturr just accepts.

The Countess is swayed by a well-meaning patriarch to send the Pale Stone Goblins on a pilgrimage.  They need an escort to mountain shrines.  Adventurers are needed for this hazardous duty.  Luuz may make a break for freedom.

Plans to assassinate the Countess are afoot.  The inn is the chosen locale.  The goblins will protect the Countess and help anyone trying to stop the plans.  Rutgor may be ambivalent about any such attempt…

Derg and Zhuj birth triplets.  The inn needs more staff and Rutgor can't hire.  Will the PCs find anyone willing to work in an inn with goblins and over a goblin lair?  Dare they trust the dwarven barkeep and his axe??

unlikely treasures 2 : more loot for the taking

Roll d12 for the loot!

1. Hacksilver chain (70gp).
   Weighs 14 lbs. Each link is 1/5 lb pure silver worth 1gp by weight.
2. Sheepskin overcoat trimmed with yeti fur (60gp). 
   Weighs 6 lb.  Will fit a slim human female, suitable for courtly wear.
3. Conical forest green beaded hat and silk veil (55gp).Weighs 1 lb. A hennin, worn by ladies of high station  to indicate eligibility for marriage.
4. Amphora of sweet musky-scented amber oil (50gp).
   Weighs 20lb.  Contains perfumed oil (valerian).
5. Chasuble decorated with runes in gold thread (50gp). 
   Weighs 2 lbs. The runes represent law and order and are repeated front and back.
6. Ornate engraved black wood box (50gp).
   Weighs 1/2 lb. Box is a darkwood scroll box engraved with nymphs dancing around runes of magic and knowledge.  Watertight, hardness 5; 10 hit points and break DC 25.
7. Greatsword (50gp).
   Weighs 8 lbs. Plain steel, unadorned, standard army or temple issue.
8. Pair of bronze bracelets (50gp).
   Weighs 2 lbs. Engraved with simple hunting scenes.
9. Pouch of golden dust (50gp).
   Weighs 2 lbs. Actual gold dust, useful for some spells.
10. Ring of brass and silver wire with blue gem in eye setting. (50gp).
    Weighs 0.1 lbs. Blue gem is lapis lazuli (10gp).  Ring is suitable for court due to ornate craftwork.
11. Wooden coffer holding eight sticks of incense (45gp).
    Weighs 2lb (1 lb empty).  The incense is floral and salt-sweet.  Each stick burns for an hour.
12. Five masterwork cold iron crossbow bolts (40gp). 
    Weigh 1/2 lb. Bolts are fletched with black flights and cross-hatched shafts.  Worth 8gp each.

crinikulu

No. Enc.: 1d4 (1d8 in lair)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 60'(20')
Armor Class: 4
Hit Dice: 5+5
Attacks: 2 (slams)
Damage: 1d6/1d6 + see below
Save: F3
Morale: 7
Hoard Class: XX

These bizarre creatures resemble humanoids made up of masses of tentacles.  Eye spots and razored teeth on the suckers make these appear truly inhuman as they rise from temperate or tropical waters.  A crinikulu attacks with two slamming arms that constrict on a successful hit causing a cumulative -1 attack penalty.  The arms can be severed by doing 8 or more points of damage with one blow.  A crinikulu also regenerates damage at one point per round at the start of the round.  It can rejoin missing arms after 8 rounds if no other damage is done to it.

assorted dungeon utensils

Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Some items are just ordinary (or not). Roll d12 for your dressing.

1. Alembic (single vessel with tube for distillation) worth 10gp to an alchemist, potion maker or wizard.
2. Copper candelabra festooned with verdigris and wax.  If properly cleaned up, worth 10gp at the market.  Not really the kind of thing court would want.
3. Ewer of decorated porcelain with handles of dancing nymphs, suitable for boudoir, worth 25gp.
4. Grinder for spices or coffee suitable for halfling-sized hands. Takes 10 rounds to grind a pound of spice or coffee.  Worth 10gp to a coffee-drinker or professional cook.
5. Iron flask engraved with assorted sigils of longevity; looks like a genuine iron flask but holds nothing of any danger or value.
6. Knife of brazened steel with saw-backed blade; usable as small wood saw or knife.  Worth 6gp to any adventurer.
7. Mug with grinning goblin face wearing red cap. Popular with goblinoids as collectible (worth 10gp to them) piece.  Dwarves and gnomes find it intensely annoying and try to get rid of it.
8. Oil scented with rosemary and lavender in crystal vial to aid relaxation and memory   Worth 5gp to an alchemist or wizard.
9. Quill made from giant eagle feather, beautiful to write with, gives a +2 bonus to any writing-based skills where quality of output matters (including forging documents or creating spell scrolls).   Worth 50gp in the right hands.
10. Salt and pepper shakers made of blue and white banded pottery, each as tall as a dwarf and holding 50gp of salt or pepper.  Each worth an extra 50gp to the right giant. 
11. Wooden spoon with foot-long handle carved with dragon motif and protective runes. No game effect beyond preventing burns while cooking.  Intended as a bridal gift.
12. Whetstone useful for sharpening and polishing blades suitable for use by anyone capable.