Tag: Sword and Sorcery

Age of Wonders, Issue 4a: Get The Box [with game notes]

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Fantasy Fiction, Superhero Fiction, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying1 Comment
art by Roland Brown (drawhaus.com)

This is insane, Maly thought, eyes wide, as she pushed her way through startled and confused ratfolk. Their fur was faintly oily and left an unpleasant residue on her skin. Her hands, arms, shoulders, and thighs all felt unclean and, she was sure, stank of the same animal musk and trash odor that filled her nostrils. Yet she had no time to linger upon the press of small, furred bodies pushing against her from all sides, nor the wave of chittering squeals of surprise. Maly ducked and wove deftly through the crowd’s backs, as though swimming upstream through a river of bodies. She hoped the shock of her presence would delay and confuse the ratfolk mob enough that her own back was free of claws and stabbing weapons. So far, it had worked. Just keeping moving, she goaded herself forward. Be gone before they register you’re there.

Get the box! a savage voice roared over her thoughts. Destiny the panther had never, in their short time together, sounded so feral and filled with battle lust.

But why!? Maly answered desperately, shoving a particularly big ratfolk out of the way and stepping into the resulting open space. She ducked forward through the press. “What’s the plan?” she said aloud, knowing the panther could somehow hear her.

Just do it!

“You’re not a very good guardian,” Maly muttered. “You’ve gotten me in far more danger than before I met you.”

I’ve never been your guardian, child, the voice grated in her skull. Is that what you thought?

“What are you then?” she panted.

Vengeance! Always vengeance.

Maly ground her teeth. What did a jeweled box have to do with vengeance? She’d made it deep into the crowd and could, from her ducked position, catch glimpses of the robed figure atop the dais. It had stopped chanting and was pointing a finger to the back of the room, where Maly’s companions, she assumed, still stood.

No time for questions. With a grunt she redoubled her efforts.

It’s Round 2 of our mega-temple-scene, and we have a new entrant into our initiative tracker. Tatter the High Priestess, who has the entire ratfolk crowd whipped into a frenzy, has spotted the group at the back of the room. When it’s her turn, things will get wild. Here are the current actors:

  • Maly (Alertness 15)
  • Tatter (14)
  • Kami & Emah (each 13)
  • Destiny (12)
  • Ratfolk mob 1 (10, 3)

Maly will continue her press forward to the dais, rolling her 13 Prowess against the mob’s score of 10. That gives her a 65% chance to successfully reach her destination without incident. She rolls an 88, though, which is a critical fail. Well… poop. I’ll say that she must defeat a brute lieutenant (the larger ratfolk she just pushed) in order to attempt another move. The brute lieutenants have an Alertness of 12, so I’ll say Lieutenant 2 goes next while the battle is here. Maly normally has a 90% chance of dodging, but because of the fumble I’ll reduce that chance to 70%. Thankfully she rolls a 62 and still manages to avoid any harm.

Now it’s Tatter’s turn, and she uses her Emotion Control to unleash a wave of anger across the ratfolk in the room. Normally rolls in Crusaders are player-facing, but in this case it’s an NPC vs. NPC roll and her Psychic Attack has an 80% of success. She rolls exactly 80, and the remaining NINE ratfolk mobs, plus all the brute and robed lieutenants, now see the PCs and will be able to act in Round 3. Yikes! I will say, however, that Tatter’s focus is on the group in the back, and she has not yet seen Maly.

Kami and Emah act next and are aware that the room has turned ugly. They’ll use their turns to move out of range (a combat move in Crusaders called Disengage), from Center of the scene to its Perimeter. Destiny, in his bloodlust, wants to finish the first ratfolk mob, and rolls a 54 against a 60% chance success. The two remaining ratfolk of mob 1 are gone in a mist of blood.

Something clamped upon Maly’s bicep and spun her around. She gasped as she faced one of the hulking rat-creatures, like the one that had tackled her outside of the jail. It stood as tall as her, with broadly muscled shoulders, long and wiry furred arms ending in frightening black claws. In her brief battle with the other brute, those claws had torn through her leather armor. Maly jerked her arm free reflexively and pulled a dagger from its sheathe. The rat creature squealed hideously.

She was dimly aware that the mob all around her had turned in unison, their backs now to the nearby dais. An unseen wave rippled through the crowd, and they began chittering wildly. As a living tide, they swarmed past Maly towards the back of the room, even as she faced off against the large, primal ratfolk in front of her. The thing’s black eyes gleamed in torchlight as it lunged at her.

Here’s where we find ourselves in Round 3:

  • Maly (Alertness 15)
  • Brute Lieutenant 2 (14)
  • Tatter (14)
  • Robed Lieutenants 1-4 (14)
  • Brute Lieutenants 3-6 (14)
  • Kami & Emah (each 13 – Perimeter)
  • Destiny (12)
  • Ratfolk mobs 2-10 (10)

Maly’s up, and she needs to defeat the brute ratfolk lieutenant in front of her solo before she can make it to the dais. She’s more of a dodger than an attacker, but her 13 Prowess against the brute’s Alertness of 14 means she has a 45% chance to hit. She rolls a 98. No good. The brute strikes back and Maly has a 90% chance to dodge now that she’s no longer surprised. A 30 is a success. The two combatants circle each other but neither makes any headway.

Upon the dais, does Tatter notice Maly or is her attention focused solely on the back of the room? Her Alertness of 14 versus a Hard difficulty of 15 means she has a 45% chance. 04. Wow, Tatter is good at noticing things! She spots Maly and the brute fighting. Unfortunately, I think Tatter will try and deal with the closest threat, Maly, and assume the horde will handle everyone else. She’ll spend this round trying to create some confusion and fear with her Emotion Control. Tatter’s Psyche is 16 versus Maly’s 12, which means Maly only has a 30% to defend herself. She rolls… 26! Woot!

At the back of the room, the Robed Lieutenants can strike from range with their “spells,” which act as Psychic Attacks versus Alertness to dodge. I’ll say that two each attack Emah and Kami. Their Psyche for the attack is 15, which means that Kami can’t be hit with her Elasticity. It’s Emah who is more vulnerable. She can’t use her sword to parry, which means that her 13 Alertness only gives her a 40% chance to dodge. She rolls a 44 and 32, dodging one but critically failing the other. I’ll say the attack does an additional 10 damage and drops her from 39 Vitality to a mere 14. One more hit and she’s down.

Destiny didn’t retreat to the Perimeter, but it’s unrealistic to say that all the remaining enemies can attack him freely. I’ll say that two brutes can strike, their 12 Prowess against the panther’s 12 Alertness meaning a 50% chance for each. Destiny rolls 18 and 62, so a miss and a hit. Twelve damage takes Destiny to 18 Vitality. On the panther’s turn, then, he Disengages to the Perimeter.

Kami can stretch, but there’s nothing explicit in the Elasticity description about being able to make a ranged attack with her fists. It makes sense that she can do so. She’ll attack one of the brutes pursuing Destiny, and with a 10 Prowess and its 14 Alertness, she has a 30% chance to hit. 29 is a hit! With her Super Strength, she smashes one to a pulp. Emah then uses her turn to flip the curtains closed, preventing the robed priests (and Kami) from being able to attack.

One mob pursues to and through the doorway, taking up all the space to attack and creating a bottleneck for the others.

As I suspected, the PCs will absolutely fall if they don’t handle this situation quickly.

Maly sidestepped and swiped with her dagger, but the thing was as fast as it was vicious. Her blade struck only air, and she danced backwards to stay out of its reach.

Meanwhile, the mob of ratfolk had surged past the two combatants, ignoring them to rush the back of the room where Emah, Destiny, and Kami had been when Maly had begun this madcap plan. In shockingly little time, she found herself alone on the hard-packed dirt floor, she and the hulking ratfolk circling one another.

A flash of light drew Maly’s attention. The four robed creatures that had been nearest the dais now stood with their backs to her, behind the roiling mass of ratfolk. As they raised their arms, sickly green energy pulsed around their clawed hands. They lobbed glowing balls, like snowballs made of ooze, over the crowd’s heads and to the back of the room. Maly had no idea what the attacks were, but she knew that her time had more than run out. She needed to deal with this brute in front of her, get the box, and get out of here.

As if on cue, the creature dove at her, snarling, hands outstretched. Maly rolled to one side and rose onto one knee.

From the dais, the ratfolk leader was chittering madly, its attention now focused on her. It pointed a clawed finger in her direction. She swallowed. This was not good.

Let’s deal with the combat at the dais itself, with Maly first, then Tatter, then the lieutenant. Depending on how that round goes, I’ll decide what to do about the mess of the rest of the combatants.

Maly again has a 45% chance to hit and this time rolls a 14. Thanks to her dagger, she does 17 damage and kills the brute lieutenant. Tatter, however, gets another chance to induce fear in Maly. Can she again avoid the attack with only a 30% chance of success? She rolls… 03! Wow! Maybe Destiny’s shielding her mind somehow?

In terms of the back of the room, I’ll say that our three PCs have retreated again, and the mob is pushing their way towards them. For the purposes of this combat, they’re all out of the scene.

Which means that Maly has one big attempt to retrieve the box. Her Acrobat power says that she can “vault, somersault, walk tightropes, swing from rooftops, and perform other spectacular feats with no chance of failure.” She will, then, attempt to launch herself up to the dais and grab the jeweled box, escaping any further attack. Maly will be able to perform the feat, but whether she can escape will require a roll. I’ll give her a +5 Alertness roll against a Hard difficulty. If she makes the 75% chance roll, she’s out and the scene is over. If not, Tatter will get one additional attack.

Maly rolls… 78. Damn. That means Tatter gets one last chance, and she’ll try Mind Control on Maly. Against all odds, can Maly resist the high priest’s powers? Once again she has a 30% chance. She rolls a 42, and will immediately use her Hero Point for the Issue, switching it to a 24 and succeeding. WHEW! If she had failed, I think the rest of the Issue would have been a rescue of mind-controlled Maly. Instead, it’s a chase!

Growling, Maly used the ratfolk brute’s tactics against it, launching herself with dagger outstretched. The creature hadn’t anticipated the move and thus was too slow to prevent Maly burying her weapon into the thing’s throat. Hot blood spurted as she rode the ratfolk’s body to the floor, then rolled forward to the edge of the dais.

Without conscious thought, Maly leapt nimbly upon the raised floor. She had never been tall for her age, but she towered over the robed leader in front of her. In one fluid motion she sheathed her dagger and scooped up the jeweled box in both arms, her legs pushing her as fast as possible to a side curtain, which she desperately hoped was an exit.

“I have the box!” she panted to the empty room.

From behind her, the robed ratfolk let out a high screech, and for a fleeting moment Maly heard the word STOP! in her mind, the voice that of a teenage, panicked girl. Maly’s steps faltered, and then Destiny’s voice bellowed, filling her every thought.

Go, child! GO!

Maly blinked, shaking her head to clear it. Golden jeweled box clutched to her torso, she vaulted from the dais like a cat. As she landed, her legs were already pumping, her eyes wide in the fading torchlight.

Maly dove through the curtain in front of her, heedless as to what might be on the other side. As she tore through the hanging barrier, she could hear the fearful, urgent chittering of the ratfolk leader, alone at the foot of the rat-god statue.

Then the sound was gone and she was hurtling through darkness, panting and stumbling forward.

Next: Ruuuun!

Age of Wonders, Issue 3 Reflections

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Fantasy Fiction, Superhero Fiction, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying4 Comments
art by Roland Brown (drawhaus.com)

Apparently, I like ending these issues of Age of Wonders on cliffhangers, because Issue 3 left us right in the middle of the hairiest (both literally and figuratively) situation our new party has encountered to date. What’s going to happen in Issue 4? I honestly have no idea, but it’s going to be a wild one.

Before we move on to Tatter and her ratfolk horde, however, let’s pause and reflect on all things Age of Wonders. I’m still very much finding my way with this solo-play-emergent-serial-fiction thing, and these pauses are proving to be a vital part of my process, a chance to pull my head up from my keyboard and dice tray, pondering changes to either my approach or story.

Suffice it to say, I’m happy right now and don’t have a lot of tweaks to make. I’m about to learn a lot from Issue 4 and however this temple scene unfolds. I suspect that my next Reflections post will be meaty as a result. Still, here are my musings on the solo game experience to date, using published material as a safety net, and building epic scenes with an eye towards my post-Issue 6 level-up. Enjoy!

Solo Play: So Far So Good

This week I received my months-delayed Kickstarter copy of Evolved, which as you may recall is a superhero game system using Dungeon Crawl Classics as a base. Since superheroes represent my favorite genre and DCC is my favorite game system, there’s a very good chance that if Evolved had met its original release schedule that I would be playing it instead of Crusaders. So, in some ways, this week is a good test of my resolve to stick with Crusaders instead of changing the system in the background to my shiny new toy (although, to be fair, Evolved is likely a system that requires a full reboot since character creation is woven into the stories it tells). Indeed, I know myself well enough that I haven’t even cracked open my chunky, 500-page Evolved rulebook for fear of becoming severely distracted from the rest of my life. When I finally succumb, I suspect my mind will ignite.

Thankfully, nine installments into this experiment and I’m feeling fine about my selection of Crusaders. Last time I mentioned some of the limitations that I see inherent within a simplified system, and those issues still exist. But I like the variant rules that I’ve added to the game. I am also benefiting from the simplified rules system, which allows me to spin up a bonkers scene like the Temple of the Rat God on the fly and with relatively little stress. Creating characters is still a delight, and the recent combat with the Bronze Armor was both tense and cinematic. As long as I’m able to keep a coherent plot while maintaining my focus on nonstop supers-on-supers action, Crusaders is likely to serve my needs. If I ever start wanting to spend more time on interpersonal scenes or other noncombat endeavors (like exploration, hazards, and chases), I’ll likely be frustrated. For now, though, the tool is fitting the job.

Since I’m extoling what’s going well, I’ll also say that I’m absolutely loving the three-installments-per-issue-then-reflections format and equally enjoying switching the point-of-view character each installment. It’s a pace that feels sustainable even while juggling a full-time, travel-heavy job, and moving between voices allows me to live in each protagonist’s brain for a week at a time. I’m not sure what happens if I decide to add another PC into the mix, but I’ll cross that bridge if and when I get there. For now, let’s just make sure our party survives their sojourn into the ratfolk warrens.

Speaking of which…

Published Material as Safety Net

When I played DCC solo for six months, I relied heavily on published adventures, first Portal Under the Stars and then Doom of the Savage Kings. That experiment was focused on learning the game system and fully stretching my gaming legs with some of their most popular adventure modules. Since that time, I’ve GMed several DCC games for groups and have fantasized about running a longer campaign sometime. When I do so, I’ll likely start with published material and then allow the story to morph and evolve into plots intimately tied to the characters’ lives and choices. At the time, though, I was glad to stick closely to the material as written by legends Joseph Goodman and Harley Stroh.

My Crusaders game differs from that first solo play experience in two key ways. First, I am now playing within a homebrewed world and a fantasy-superhero mash-up. There simply is no published material set in Age of Wonders, so anything I would try to use would require heavy modification anyway. Second, as I’ve said repeatedly, Crusaders is a simpler game to learn and master, and is inherently a comics-combat simulator. The goal of Crusaders is to make cool set pieces and have your imaginary actions figures bash against each other, with mechanics underlying it that are easy to pick up. As a result, when I began this experiment, I decided that I would make the story completely emergent and not constrained by published material.

Very quickly, of course, I changed my approach. I found that a blank canvas was a source of stress and inhibiting my ability to set goals and milestones in the story (to be clear: this is a problem with me, not with emergent storytelling). I scanned through my endless shelves of published adventures across many game systems, plucked a few modules that sounded sorta kinda close to my current story, and read through them. For those guessing at home, I used the map in No Small Crimes in Lankhmar as the basis for Sammy Suttar’s home (also, Sammy’s name), and have been relying loosely on Rats of Ilthmar for Issues 3 and 4. The Lankhmar setting, it turns out, is an excellent font of ideas for the urban adventuring of Oakton.

What I have unexpectedly enjoyed is peeking at these published adventures for maps and encounter ideas, without being in any way bound by their story beats. In No Small Crimes (spoiler alert!), the entire conceit of the adventure is that the PCs are shrunk to small size in an abandoned house. In Rats, the PCs are infiltrating a cult to a rat god in which humans are dressed like rats, and the temple is above ground. Most of each published adventure has little to do with what’s happening in Age of Wonders, but is still there to help provide inspiration and handholds when I need them. It’s been awesome; my approach so far has provided me with a creative safety net without constraining my ability to push the protagonists into increasingly wild situations. The result is at best an homage to the published material, and often unrecognizable. I’m excited to maintain my “sort of based on this but not really” approach in the future.

The Current Situation: Where Do We Go From Here?

The scene within the temple is my most ambitious one to date. A whole room full of ratfolk, with two different kinds of lieutenants, and the dastardly villain behind it all. The PCs are hopelessly outnumbered, and if this situation becomes a stand-up fight I’m reasonably sure that they will lose. But can they flee when Maly has gone into the crowd on some scheme plotted by her animal companion Destiny? I’m excited to find out, since I genuinely have no idea how this scene will play out. It could be an enormous brawl that ends with the heroes captured, or it could equally become a mad dash through the ratfolk tunnels towards the surface world, or any other number of outcomes.

My explicit goal is to “wrap up” the ratfolk story somehow by the end of Issue 6, if not before. As a result of last week’s installment, I’m exactly halfway there. My gut tells me that I need to start pointing the PCs towards resolution immediately, yet keep an open mind about side stories or unexpected twists. This enormous temple scene could be the last time we see the ratfolk for now… maybe they manage to take out Tatter and make nice with the remaining populace, for example. But I’m guessing we haven’t come to the end. The fun will be in finding out, and if the ratfolk plot somehow does find a suitable tie-off point, I have a number of smaller subplots with each character to fill out that first “trade paperback” of six issues.  

Finally, let’s continue to pour some love into Roland Brown from drawhaus.com, who continues to create amazing covers for these Age of Wonders issues. This time we got an action shot of Destiny versus Bronze Armor, and next issue features Tatter! Thank you, Roland!

art by Roland Brown (drawhaus.com)

If you’re enjoying the story or have suggestions, drop me a comment below or feel free to email me at jaycms@yahoo.com.

Next Time: Can our heroes escape the temple? [with game notes]

Age of Wonders, Issue 3c: Temple of the Rat God

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Fantasy Fiction, Superhero Fiction1 Comment
art by Roland Brown (drawhaus.com)

Kami’s first thought upon glimpsing the scene beyond the curtain was that all her companions were soon going to die. Even, she suspected, the great cat Destiny. Probably not Kami herself, because she was not certain she could die any longer. Yet all the rest were doomed.

Alone, the primitive, stunted ratfolk were not particularly dangerous, much like rats themselves. Yet, also like commonplace rats, it seemed they were rarely alone.

The group had moved warily and quietly through a tunnel, following Destiny’s lead, to where the panther said the ratfolk were gathered. They’d reached a wide opening, blocked by not one but two tattered blankets arrayed side by side. Though so far Emah’s torch had been their only light in the underground warrens, surprisingly light flickered from behind the edges of the cloth. Not only light, though… Beyond the doorway they could hear the chittering and squeaking of what sounded like dozens of ratfolk. Perhaps more. The smell here was almost overpowering as well, like wet animals and feces crawling into her nose and down her throat. She stopped breathing, something she only recently realized she could do. The implications of not needing to breathe unnerved her, but it was—like so many other events from recent weeks—something left contemplated for a later time.

As they pushed the cloth gently aside, the group was confronted by an enormous chamber, perhaps fifty or more strides across and deep, and half that high. The walls of the place were packed hard, almost sculpted, and great wooden scaffolding was arrayed to support the ceiling and walls. Four wooden pillars, severed tree trunks with carved markings of some kind across their entire length, stood sentinel from floor to ceiling, giving the place the feeling of a temple or grand amphitheater. It was difficult to tell whether the ratfolk horde had found this place and built their warren around it, or whether this vast space had been their most ambitious work. Either way, it was an impressive gathering hall, especially so deep below the surface.

Against the wall to their left sat a raised, earthen dais, and atop it was a large wooden carving like the one they’d seen in the ratfolk bedchamber: A naked man with the head and tail of a rat. The statue stood fully twice as high as Kami, roughly hewn but impressive still in its menace and power. At the statue’s base stood a ratfolk in tattered robes, waving its furred and clawed hands rhythmically as it chittered. Two torches had been thrust into the earth on either side of the robed creature. Between them, at the ratfolk’s feet, sat the bejeweled box Kami had seen in Sami Suttar’s home. The torchlight caused the gems and gold to glitter hypnotically, casting dancing shadows all around the vast chamber.

Filling the chamber from the base of the dais throughout the rest of the room was a horde of ratfolk, arms raised and chittering in unison with the figure on the stage. A handful of other robed figures stood swaying closest the dais, and behind them amassed creatures like the ones they’d fought and killed several times the past day—each the size of a child, hunched and furred, with rat-like heads and beady eyes, claws tipping their long fingers and toes. They wore stained scraps of clothing, none alike. Finally, littered at the perimeter of the crowd, were several of the more hulking creatures like the one that had tackled Maly outside of the jail the previous day. Everything about these other ratfolk was stronger, larger, and more savage, almost like comparing a wolf to a domesticated dog. Unlike everyone else in the room, these rat-brutes prowled the crowd, black eyes overlooking their shorter brethren and scanning the chamber.

In all, it was a dizzying and overwhelming scene. Kami would not have been surprised to discover that a hundred in all of the creatures were in this chamber, this temple to some rat god far below Oakton. She could not even begin to fathom what it all meant, or what ritual or rite the robed priest atop the dais was performing. Kami wondered, in a brief flicker, what lay in the opened bejeweled box that she could not see, and why these primitive creatures had been so willing to die to obtain it.

Then she had no time to consider anything but survival.

The nearest large, savage ratfolk whipped its head towards them as they gathered beyond the curtained doorway. Then, with a snarl, it leapt at Emah. The Kaleen warrior raised her sword in a flash, intercepting the attack and sidestepping. Meanwhile, the ratfolk nearest them turned away from the chanting upon the dais and began chittering excitedly, pointing and moving closer to them.

“What!?” Maly whispered harshly, though no one had spoken. Kami guessed that the woman was once again having a one-sided conversation with the great, black cat. “You’re crazy! Okay. Okay! Just… Keep them safe and I’ll be back!”

Then, to Kami’s shock and horror, the pale-skinned woman dove into the onrushing crowd, tumbling and disappearing within the horde.

She had no time to ask what the fool mercenary was thinking or to help. Instead, at the speed of thought her arms lengthened wide. Like a mother embracing her oncoming children, Kami’s arms enfolded three of the nearest creatures, then closed tight. She could feel their small, furred bodies crack in her grip. They shrieked and shuddered briefly before falling still, and Kami dropped them to the dirt floor.

Near her, Emah pulled a blood-slicked blade from the side of the hulking ratfolk that had been grappling with her, its body now lifeless. The panther Destiny was savaging two of the smaller creatures, one already dead in its jaws and another squirming weakly beneath its claws.

That was fast, Kami thought proudly. The other ratfolk near them had their backs turned still, swaying and chittering and focused on the dais. Perhaps we can all survive this room, after all. If we can stay silent back here, we can make a plan. But… where is Maly?

Her eyes scanned the crowd, amazed that she could miss the Stone Islander amidst a sea of small, furred ratfolk. Kami thought that perhaps she spied a jostle of movement in the weak, flickering light, rats chittering in surprise as they were pushed aside. But before she could be sure, the robed figure on the dais stopped its swaying. Its dark, beady eyes focused on the back of the crowd, where Kami, Emah and the panther stood, and pointed a clawed finger. More loudly than it had been chanting, the figure chittered something defiant and sharp.

The entire crowd turned as one to regard them.

“Well… shit,” Emah gulped.

Next: Issue 3 Reflections!

Age of Wonders, Issue 3c: Temple of the Rat God [with game notes]

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Fantasy Fiction, Superhero Fiction, Superhero Gaming, Tabletop Roleplaying2 Comments
art by Roland Brown (drawhaus.com)

Kami’s first thought upon glimpsing the scene beyond the curtain was that all her companions were soon going to die. Even, she suspected, the great cat Destiny. Probably not Kami herself, because she was not certain she could die any longer. Yet all the rest were doomed.

Alone, the primitive, stunted ratfolk were not particularly dangerous, much like rats themselves. Yet, also like commonplace rats, it seemed they were rarely alone.

The group had moved warily and quietly through a tunnel, following Destiny’s lead, to where the panther said the ratfolk were gathered. They’d reached a wide opening, blocked by not one but two tattered blankets arrayed side by side. Though so far Emah’s torch had been their only light in the underground warrens, surprisingly light flickered from behind the edges of the cloth. Not only light, though… Beyond the doorway they could hear the chittering and squeaking of what sounded like dozens of ratfolk. Perhaps more. The smell here was almost overpowering as well, like wet animals and feces crawling into her nose and down her throat. She stopped breathing, something she only recently realized she could do. The implications of not needing to breathe unnerved her, but it was—like so many other events from recent weeks—something left contemplated for a later time.

As they pushed the cloth gently aside, the group was confronted by an enormous chamber, perhaps fifty or more strides across and deep, and half that high. The walls of the place were packed hard, almost sculpted, and great wooden scaffolding was arrayed to support the ceiling and walls. Four wooden pillars, severed tree trunks with carved markings of some kind across their entire length, stood sentinel from floor to ceiling, giving the place the feeling of a temple or grand amphitheater. It was difficult to tell whether the ratfolk horde had found this place and built their warren around it, or whether this vast space had been their most ambitious work. Either way, it was an impressive gathering hall, especially so deep below the surface.

Against the wall to their left sat a raised, earthen dais, and atop it was a large wooden carving like the one they’d seen in the ratfolk bedchamber: A naked man with the head and tail of a rat. The statue stood fully twice as high as Kami, roughly hewn but impressive still in its menace and power. At the statue’s base stood a ratfolk in tattered robes, waving its furred and clawed hands rhythmically as it chittered. Two torches had been thrust into the earth on either side of the robed creature. Between them, at the ratfolk’s feet, sat the bejeweled box Kami had seen in Sami Suttar’s home. The torchlight caused the gems and gold to glitter hypnotically, casting dancing shadows all around the vast chamber.

Filling the chamber from the base of the dais throughout the rest of the room was a horde of ratfolk, arms raised and chittering in unison with the figure on the stage. A handful of other robed figures stood swaying closest the dais, and behind them amassed creatures like the ones they’d fought and killed several times the past day—each the size of a child, hunched and furred, with rat-like heads and beady eyes, claws tipping their long fingers and toes. They wore stained scraps of clothing, none alike. Finally, littered at the perimeter of the crowd, were several of the more hulking creatures like the one that had tackled Maly outside of the jail the previous day. Everything about these other ratfolk was stronger, larger, and more savage, almost like comparing a wolf to a domesticated dog. Unlike everyone else in the room, these rat-brutes prowled the crowd, black eyes overlooking their shorter brethren and scanning the chamber.

In all, it was a dizzying and overwhelming scene. Kami would not have been surprised to discover that a hundred in all of the creatures were in this chamber, this temple to some rat god far below Oakton. She could not even begin to fathom what it all meant, or what ritual or rite the robed priest atop the dais was performing. Kami wondered, in a brief flicker, what lay in the opened bejeweled box that she could not see, and why these primitive creatures had been so willing to die to obtain it.

Then she had no time to consider anything but survival.

If Kami hadn’t fumbled her attempt to deal with the sentries in the last installment, the party would have had some time to formulate a plan against this bizarre and bonkers scene. Instead, the ratfolk looked briefly for the intruders and, not finding them, doubled their guard during this sacred ritual. So, unfortunately, for Kami and her companions, they now must react instead of plan.

First, let’s get organized. In the chamber there are roughly 60 ratfolk worshippers that I’ll arrange into 10 mobs of 6 each, and each with a 10 Fight score. I’ll say there are 6 total lieutenants with the same stats as the one they fought outside the jail way back in Issue 1b: Physique 12 Prowess 12 Alertness 14 Psyche 10. There are also 4 new types of lieutenants, ratfolk priests: Physique 9 Prowess 10 Alertness 14 Psyche 15 with a “spell” that acts like Psychic Attack.

The ratfolk up on stage is a Rank 1 Villain, who I’ll call Tatter, the High Priest. Time to make another NPC!

Origin: I’m pretty open to who this high priest is, so let’s just roll on my variant tables and see what happens. I roll 85 or 58, which is either a non-powered Spy/Assassin/Thief/Guide or a Wyrding – Power Endowment. The latter makes more sense to me. This is a ratfolk that was granted otherworldly power by the recent Wyrding and thus became the high priest of this society.

In this specific scene, I’m not too worried about Tatter’s history vis a vis the ICONS Origins tool, but I’ll do a couple of rolls here. Tatter is female, relatively young, social ratfolk who values herself and her friends more than anything else. Okay, interesting… so she’s a bit like a “child avatar,” a normal ratfolk teenager equivalent who was granted power and thrust into the role of high priest. I don’t know if that will matter in the story, but it’s fun.

Powers: As a Rank 1 character, Tatter gets 3 Power rolls. They are:

Roll 1: 33, which is choose or invent my own!

Roll 2: 41 or 14, which is Flight, Armor, Psychic Sense, Emotion Control, Fire Mastery, Energy Blast, Detective or Acrobat.

Roll 3: 21 or 12, which is Energy Blast, Armor, Mind Control, Emotion Control, Energy Blast, Alchemist, or Acrobat.

The ones that most stood out to me given Tatter’s role and station were Mind Control and Emotion Control, so I’m going to focus my attention there. I’ll use the first and third role for Mind Control with an Improvement: Collective Mind Control. She can basically make people (and even crowds with a united purpose, like the ratfolk horde) do what she wants. I’ll use the second roll, then, for Emotion Control. I’ll say that she can induce emotions with the same parameters as her Mind Control powers.

Attributes & Motivation: As a Rank 1 Villain, she gets 10 Attribute points to spend, same as our PCs. I’ll give her the array of Physique 10, Prowess 10, Alertness 14, Psyche 16. This also means that her Vitality is 30 (Physique x3). Motivation-wise, I’m not going to overthink this and just call her a Leader. Why are the ratfolk doing all this stuff from the previous installments? The answer seems to be because Tatter is making them do it. This also means that taking Tatter out will dramatically change the crowd’s attitudes.

Here’s Tatter’s character sheet:

Okay, despite the fumble I’m not crazy enough to kick off a combat with all these forces at once. Instead, I’m going to say that the room is focused on Tatter and her ritual, and only the closest guards will sense the PCs and act against them. For now, I’ll say that’s 1 brute-lieutenant and 1 mob of 6 ratfolk. The savage brute will attack, and the mob will use their action to alert more of the audience. At the end of each turn, I’ll make an Alertness roll to see if Tatter notices what’s happening (at which point all hell will break loose).

Initiative-wise, then, we have for Round 1:

  • Maly (Alertness 15)
  • Brute Lieutenant 1 (14)
  • Kami & Emah (each 13)
  • Destiny (12)
  • Ratfolk mob 1 (10)

The party absolutely does not have to make this an epic, large brawl, and fleeing is absolutely an option. Let’s see how this goes…

Maly will get instruction from Destiny (what’s the plan? Stay tuned!) and try and move before the action really begins. She’ll roll Prowess against the first mob, but not to attack and instead to move through them. With her Prowess of 13 and the mob’s Fight of 10, that’s a 65% chance of success. She rolls 58 and makes her way into the crowd. I’ll say one more success next round and she can be at the dais relatively unmolested.

The brute lieutenant has a choice between attacking Emah and Kami. I roll odds and it’s Emah. With her sword, Emah can defend melee attacks with a Prowess of 20 versus the brute’s score of 12. That’s a 90% chance of success and she rolls 15, parrying the attack easily.

Now’s the big decision: Do Emah and Kami run or fight or do something else? Hm. Let’s bust out the Mythic GM Emulator and insert some randomness into the action! Normally I’d do this for NPCs but I am curious how this might play with my PCs. I’ll roll twice on the Character Actions table: I get “Normal” and “Messy.” That leads me to believe that they’ll follow their normal tendencies, which for Emah will be to stay and fight for her friend and for Kami is to end the mission (which means exterminating the ratfolk) and free herself of her contract. For both, this will certainly get messy.

I’ll roll attacks for Emah (80% chance to hit the brute: 58. Hit and killed!), Kami (50% to hit the mob: 11. Critical hit! I’ll say she not only does her 30 damage, crushing half of the rats in one go, but manages to do so quickly and quietly), and Destiny (60% versus the mob: 13. Hit! 17 damage).

The first ratfolk mob only has 2 members left, one very injured. And, because of Kami’s crit, I’ll say the action doesn’t alert nearby lieutenants and mobs. The party might get some time to plan, after all! The only obstacle is Tatter, who gets an Alertness roll to see if she spots the activity in the back of the temple on her own, since she’s the only one facing them. I’ll give it a Hard difficulty in Round 1, dropping in difficulty each round. With her Alertness of 14, that’s a 45% chance: I roll 01. Oh boy. She definitely notices. Yikes.

The nearest large, savage ratfolk whipped its head towards them as they gathered beyond the curtained doorway. Then, with a snarl, it leapt at Emah. The Kaleen warrior raised her sword in a flash, intercepting the attack and sidestepping. Meanwhile, the ratfolk nearest them turned away from the chanting upon the dais and began chittering excitedly, pointing and moving closer to them.

“What!?” Maly whispered harshly, though no one had spoken. Kami guessed that the woman was once again having a one-sided conversation with the great, black cat. “You’re crazy! Okay. Okay! Just… Keep them safe and I’ll be back!”

Then, to Kami’s shock and horror, the pale-skinned woman dove into the onrushing crowd, tumbling and disappearing within the horde.

She had no time to ask what the fool mercenary was thinking or to help. Instead, at the speed of thought her arms lengthened wide. Like a mother embracing her oncoming children, Kami’s arms enfolded three of the nearest creatures, then closed tight. She could feel their small, furred bodies crack in her grip. They shrieked and shuddered briefly before falling still, and Kami dropped them to the dirt floor.

Near her, Emah pulled a blood-slicked blade from the side of the hulking ratfolk that had been grappling with her, its body now lifeless. The panther Destiny was savaging two of the smaller creatures, one already dead in its jaws and another squirming weakly beneath its claws.

That was fast, Kami thought proudly. The other ratfolk near them had their backs turned still, swaying and chittering and focused on the dais. Perhaps we can all survive this room, after all. If we can stay silent back here, we can make a plan. But… where is Maly?

Her eyes scanned the crowd, amazed that she could miss the Stone Islander amidst a sea of small, furred ratfolk. Kami thought that perhaps she spied a jostle of movement in the weak, flickering light, rats chittering in surprise as they were pushed aside. But before she could be sure, the robed figure on the dais stopped its swaying. Its dark, beady eyes focused on the back of the crowd, where Kami, Emah and the panther stood, and pointed a clawed finger. More loudly than it had been chanting, the figure chittered something defiant and sharp.

The entire crowd turned as one to regard them.

“Well… shit,” Emah gulped.

Next: Issue 3 Reflections!

Age of Wonders, Issue 1a: A Simple Job

On By MagicJMSIn Age of Wonders, Fantasy Fiction, Superhero Fiction2 Comments

[Welcome to my new fantasy-superhero mash-up project! This is the fiction-only version. To see game notes, click here.]

art by Roland Brown (drawhaus.com)

Maly pushed her way, panting, into the darkened room. The sudden change from sunlight to candlelight momentarily blinded her as she shut the door. Sounds of cart vendors shouting, street musicians, horses clopping, and laughter immediately hushed to dull muffles. The Golden Heron, with colorful tapestries hanging on the wooden walls, had worked hard to keep its business inside hidden from the bustling street outside.

“Emah? You in here?” Maly asked, breathless.

“You’re late,” her friend answered, her deep voice clipped.

“Ah, yes. About that,” Maly held up a finger. “I need to tell you about–”

“You’re late, Maly,” Emah hissed. “Get over here and. Meet. Our. Host.” Each of those last words was delivered through clenched teeth.

“Oh, but… Right. Sorry,” Maly said sheepishly, still panting. She wiped a forearm across her wet brow and stamped her sandaled feet.

“I’m glad to have you both here,” a supple, smooth voice said. Maly blinked spastically, her pale blue eyes adjusting. Cloth hung from every wall, but otherwise the three of them stood alone in a room only sparsely furnished, with pillows placed neatly around its perimeter. A low desk with quill, parchment, and a slender candle atop it sat near a far wall. Another candle flickered merrily on an ironbound chest in a corner. A few garments hung from pegs peeking between tapestries on the wall. She could see now that her friend had her muscled, bare arms crossed and feet planted wide, pointedly turned away from her and towards their host. Emah was kitted for action, wearing her leather cuirass and gloves, her scabbarded sword hanging from her waist. The warrior’s short, kinky hair was pulled back from her forehead by a leather strap.

Maly still couldn’t make out details, but the third woman was slender and dressed in patterned pants and sleeveless top, with a riot of bracelets and necklaces adorning her. Their host’s long, silken black hair fell across one eye and spilled over one shoulder. Something was odd about her face, but Maly couldn’t tell at first what it was. Everything about her graceful bearing and honeyed voice felt to Maly like a caress in the dim light, which made some sense since they were standing in a brothel that she or Emah could never afford. This room wasn’t the Golden Heron’s primary entrance for clientele, though. Maly had, as instructed, circled around to a side door. She presumed this sparse, elegant room was meant for business only.

Maly tried her best to still her breathing, calm her frantic mind, and focus on what their potential employer was saying. She realized that she had missed the last several moments of conversation between the woman and Emah.

“…so you see, it’s a simple job. One afternoon for you and done.”

“You… just want us to walk with you? Are you expecting trouble?” Emah asked suspiciously.

“No particular trouble, no,” the woman said smoothly, shrugging a bare shoulder. “But you must understand, I am not used to visiting imprisoned criminals. I would feel better having an escort and have the coin to spare.”

“Wait, what are we doing? We’re just going to the jail?” Maly blinked, confused.

“Maly…” Emah growled.

“That’s right, Miss Wywich,” the woman nodded. Maly’s eyes had adjusted, and she could see now that the woman was indeed beautiful, but there was something covering the half of her face that her hair concealed. Beneath the curtain of black hair was a mask, delicately carved with an eye hole and curving around her slim nose and full-lipped mouth. “Walk with me to the jail, stay with me there while I conduct some business, and deliver me safely home.”

“Seems like a pretty easy job,” Maly chuckled.

Emah cleared her throat and shot her a withering stare. “It’s the kind of job new members of the Adventurer’s Guild receive, and we’re happy to do it, ma’am,” she growled.

Maly shrugged back apologetically.

“Excellent,” the woman nodded once. “And please: My name is Kami. I’ll provide half the fee now and half when it’s done. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Emah nodded, and took the small pouch of coins. It clinked in her palm, and Emah tucked it away on a belt pouch.

“When are we leaving?” Maly asked.

“Why, now of course,” and the woman glided past them. Kami plucked a wide, circular hat from a peg, and a long slender walking stick leaning next to it. Then she was pushing out into the sunlight.

Outside, all three of them squinted in the bright light, Emah and Maly shielding their eyes with a hand. This part of Oakton, the Rose District, sat at the broad border between the wealthier merchant quarter and the crime-riddled slums. Modest wooden homes and shops lined the dirt road, with horse-drawn carts and people traveling up and down its length. Everywhere individuals and small groups played music, the constant backdrop of Oakton. Closest to them, a man sat cross-legged and pat a wide, flat drum, humming lyrics with a deep voice while across the street a girl of no more than ten sang full-throated while her two friends danced and banged tambourines.

Though it was in the second half of winter—indeed it was the first day of Nigwan, which in Kalee meant “End,” named for the thaw and last days of winter in the nation’s capital—the weather here, far to the west and north, was mild. Most of Oakton’s residents wore light fabrics and sleeveless shirts.

Above the roofline, the towering Great Oak stood, like a protective mother watching over the town, its branches stretching across the cloudy sky. Kami did not hesitate, walking with purpose down the road, towards the immense tree. Emah strode after her with long strides. Maly scampered to keep up.

“Emah!” the young woman gasped. “I need to tell you about–”

“Not now,” Emah growled. Her brown eyes did not meet Maly’s desperate, freckled face, but instead scanned the road for danger with a serious, furrowed expression. “We’re on a job. The first job, I’ll add, in more than a week. It’s actual coin, that will put food in our mouths. So just tell me later and pay attention now.”

Now it was Maly’s turn to harrumph in frustration. “Fine,” she said, pursing her lips, and she glanced behind them, searching the crowd with pale blue eyes as if expecting someone following.

Emah pointedly ignored her and lengthened her strike to reach Kami’s shoulder. “By the way, ma’am?”

The graceful woman kept her pace, seemingly not at all breathless or bothered. She answered mildly. “Yes?”

“Why are you visiting the jail? What’s your business there?” Emah asked. A thin, knobby street vendor stepped in front of Kami, leering at her, and Emah pushed him, stumbling, out of the way. He swore at them as they passed.

“That,” Kami said dismissively. “Is my own concern. One doesn’t usually ask the business of someone from the Rose District, Miss Elmhill.” And with that she adjusted her wide-brimmed hat and continued down the road, weaving amidst the crowd while her two guards kept pace.

The trio quickly approached Southgate, beyond which lay the town’s garrison, government buildings, and wealthiest residents. The gate itself was a gap wide enough for three carts, in a thick stone curtain wall with squat, ugly towers at regular intervals. A bored city watchman nodded at them as they passed, his half-lidded eyes lingering on Kami’s smooth cheek, lithe arms, and breasts pressed against her form-fitting shirt. Even with the carved mask and low-drawn hat the woman drew attention, and the guard’s hungry gaze was only the most obvious example around them. Maly began to understand the brothel-proprietor’s desire for bodyguards into the inner city and back, and wondered how often she was harassed in some way by guardsmen, sailors, or even merchants. The brief image of the leering street vendor also clicked into her mind. Emah gave her most withering gaze to the gate guard, but the man didn’t seem to notice, his eyes fixed on Kami.

Emah glanced back at Maly, still struggling to keep up with them because of constantly looking behind.

“Maly? Is someone following us?” she asked in a low whisper.

“What? Why would you–? No, no. Of course not!” the young woman chuckled guiltily. Her round, pale face had wideset eyes, freckled cheeks, downturned lips, and a button nose, making her look somewhat like a child from the neck up. Her tattooed, muscled arms and the knife at her belt dispelled the illusion, however. Maly brushed the short, sweat-damped blonde hair from her eyes. “Uh, our employer is getting away.”

“Aargh!” Emah huffed, and she hustled to pursue Kami as the woman made a beeline through the passerbys to a round, stone structure set away from the other buildings and far from the looming keep. Here, so close to the towering Great Oak, everything was in dappled shade. Yellow and brown oak leaves twice as large as an open hand lay scattered across the cobblestone, the leaves as constant in Oakton as the street musicians.

The town’s dungeons, which held those either awaiting execution or detained indefinitely, lay beneath the main keep. Where Kami strode, however, was outside one of several jails within the curtain wall, a place to hold those accused of smaller crimes or to pull drunkards off the street. Emah glanced back at her friend as they approached the heavy wooden door of the building, clearing her throat to get her attention. Maly was still looking behind her, scanning for something. She heard Emah and looked up to her friend and then the jail door. She grimaced.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Emah whispered back. For the first time since Maly had arrived late, Emah’s voice held no anger.

“It’s fine,” Maly shrugged, but her lips were a grim line. “I mean, I didn’t stay here that long.”

Kami had stopped, motionless, before the door. As Emah and Maly flanked her, the woman seemed to shake herself out of some sort of reverie, as if she’d been lost in thought.

“We are here,” she said simply.

“Are we… going inside?” Maly asked.

Kami seemed to gather herself and nodded once, sharply. “We are. You may stay outside if you wish.” She reached out and knocked on the door, first lightly, and then more forcefully when no one answered.

Maly arched an eyebrow, impressed at the slim woman’s strength. The heavy door thrummed with her booming knocks.

No one answered.

“That seems odd, doesn’t it?” Maly offered, hesitantly.

The three looked at each other, unsure what to do, then Emah and Maly scanned the surroundings. The jail stood away from any foot traffic, and no one seemed particularly interested in watching them at its entrance. They exchanged confused glances.

Kami pursed her lips and clutched the latch. With a sharp push of her shoulder, the door shuddered and flew open.

Inside was carnage.

Maly knew the layout of this jailhouse intimately. The entry room took up roughly half of the circular level, used for the intake of prisoners. Two city watch members were stationed here at all hours, usually complaining about their boring assignment and playing dice or cards. Behind the desk and chairs stood iron bars and a heavy door, behind which were cubbies with prisoners’ belongings, city watch logs, and a winding staircase down to the lower level. The entire jail was windowless, with torches burning day and night to both light it and make the place smell of oil and smoke.

Today, the heavy door at the back of the room hung open, the table and chairs toppled. Two bodies, a man and woman in the city watch’s yellow and green livery, lay sprawled on the floor, their forms ravaged by what looked like an animal attack, or perhaps several animals. Dark blood spattered the walls and ceiling, and pooled in wide, sticky blobs around the bodies. Small prints like that from a cat or dog tracked through the blood and seemed everywhere across the wooden floor.

One guard’s corpse clutched a long spear, which impaled something brown and furred, also dead and curled around the weapon’s tip. That body drew the eye because it was vaguely humanoid, the size of a child, one four-fingered, clawed hand outstretched as if in a plea for mercy. It wore filthy rags that could barely be called clothing, hanging in tatters from its small form. They couldn’t see the thing’s face from here, but its furred head was topped by small, flared ears.

“By the gods,” Emah breathed. “What happened here? We… we should get the Watch. Maly, go get help.”

“No!” Kami barked, thrusting a hand outward, palm facing them.

“What?” Maly blinked, her breath coming short and shallow. The smell in here wasn’t the typical oil and smoke—it was like iron and sewage, making her eyes water and jaw clench. “We need to tell–”

“No, dammit all! Shut the door and follow me.” Kami dropped her walking staff and threw off her hat, tiptoeing her way through the bodies and blood towards the open door. While the other two women gaped, she stepped across the threshold and peered down the staircase.

Emah was squinting at the furred form at the end of the spear, frowning. Maly stepped close to her, eyes wide.

“I’ve paid you to escort me,” Kami said, her face serious. “Come on.” She descended the stairs.

“What- what do we do, Emah?” Maly whispered urgently.

“I don’t…” Emah shook her head. “Aargh. We follow. Come on. Weapons out.”

Emah Elmhill was not particularly tall, but she had the physique of a well-trained fighter. With a gloved hand she reached to her waist, to a leather scabbard from which decorative tassels hung. The scraping sound of steel across the metal collar filled the room as Emah drew her sword. She held the wide blade out in front of her, other hand clenched in a fist.

“Let’s go,” she huffed, and stepped her way through the massacre at her feet to follow Kami.

Maly fumbled at her belt sheath for her dagger, thin blade as long as her forearm. She stole another glance at the furred creature curled around the spear, unlike anything she had ever seen. When she realized that Emah was already descending the stairs, Maly shook her head and lightly padded forward to catch up.

A second furred body lay halfway down the spiral staircase, this one on its back. Once again it wore tattered, filthy strips of cloth, and one side of its small torso was stained in blood from a wound, most likely a spear thrust from one of the guards. Its head was like that of a large rat, with black beady eyes, long whiskers on a nose hairless at the tip of the snout. Its mouth was gaping wide in death, showing sharp, yellowed teeth at the front of its mouth. One of its four-fingered, clawed hands held a sharpened stick.

“By the light of the sun,” she gasped, her steps faltering.

“No! Blast you, no!” Kami’s voice echoed from below, immediately followed by Emah’s shout.

“Maly! Get down here!”

Wide-eyed, she dashed down the curved staircase.

The bottom floor of the jail was simple in its design. The staircase led to a square area with a guard post at its center. Arrayed around the post were four cramped cells, each with iron bars and containing only a straw pallet, a wooden bucket of water, and a grated hole leading to a common cesspit below. The walls and floor were roughly-cut stone, making the place just cold and damp enough to be constantly uncomfortable. Maly knew this place well from her weeks living here. She hated it and everything it represented.

Today, however, there was no guard posted at the center. No living one, anyway. Another green-and-yellow clad city watch member lay on his back, fat belly torn open and spilling intestines across his legs, his lifeless eyes wide and terrified in the torchlight. Two prisoners also lay dead and ravaged in their cells, bitten and torn by what looked like small claws and teeth. As above, the stench of blood and waste permeated the place.

Kami stood, fists clenched tightly, looking down at one of the corpses in the cells. It was a man, pale-skinned from the Stone Isles, with blonde hair like Maly’s. He was tall, with wiry arms and a long neck, and seemed to be of middling years. His gray clothes had been torn, especially around his chest and shoulders, which were a bloody mess of gore. Kami stared at the man’s face, her unmasked cheek wet with tears.

“Ma’am,” Emah said huskily, holding back vomit. “We have to go. We have to get help. Whatever these things are… we need to tell someone.”

Kami continued to stare at the corpse lying between her and the iron bars. Emah and Maly watched her, willing her to respond.

As a result, none of them saw the furred, rag-robed figures climbing out of the cesspool hole in the floor of an open cell, one by one, their small eyes glowing in the torchlight like rounded flint, until it was too late. Chittering, the rat-figures scampered into the hallway and attacked.

Age of Wonders: Issue 1b