Currently, I've been considering a variation on an idea I've had before: a high adventure occasionally dungeoneering fantasy world inspired by Japanese Standard (Western) Fantasy. Magitech will plan a big role in the setting, and there will be a loose approach to anachronism (even looser than standard D&D settings). This sort of setting will also support the expansive "ancestries" available these days in 5e and high action combat.
The incursion of "demons" (more like the broader D&Dism of fiends than the specifically chaotic evil variety) in service of a Demon King that will reside in the dark side of the physical world rather than a separate plane. I think the world will be shape like an inverted bowl with the demon world being within the concave surface. The "rim" will be the Terminator, a region that never sees more of the sun than twilight and holds numerous lonely fortifications to watch for demonic incursion.
To the extent that it will be variant from standard D&D, I don't worry much about my players accepting it. They've been playing in Azurth for over a decade so that shouldn't be a problem! I do want it to be distinct from Azurth though to provide a somewhat different experience.
The Plane of Shadow is no ethereal realm, but a place of matter as solid as any, but it remains aloof and invisible. It only interaction is with gravity, so that there might well be whole ecologies of this shadow matter upon the Earth unknown to the mundane world.
If the black mirrors truly exist, it implies that there is or once was, a civilization or entity on the other side capable of constructing some sort of form for a mind passing through. If such a Shadow or intelligence civilization exists, they could well have some means of sending agents into the world of mundane matter as well.
They asked the guards where they might find the bridge the Shadows told them about. The Mole guards were surprised to see them still alive, but they told them how to find the bridge, though they warned them (so far as they knew) it was a bridge to oblivion. On the way, they met another chatty ghost trapped in a jar (this one they didn't let out) who seemed to confirm the bridge led nowhere.
They moved ahead, and soon they were crossing a ghostly but sturdy enough bridge into a magical darkness that was almost tangible. It always seemed to hang before then like the surface of a draining liquid. Eventually the bridge became a stone tunnel, and the tunnel gradually became vertical rather than horizontal. But then there was a light at the end. They stopped at a couple of places to reconsider their life choices, but in the end moved on.
They climbed toward the light and emerged through a well made from paper (collapsing it as they did) into a paper town. The buildings began to collapse, folding up around them, as did the various flat, cut-out people they saw.
They were approached by a cut out of a redheaded girl in a crown. She said she was Princess Seven, ruler of Paper Town, and she had been expecting them, "the heroes." She related the story about how the girl whose shadow she was had been given the Paper Town by a wandering minstrel on her birthday long ago. The minstrel had told her that someday heroes would come seeking a page from the book, and she must give them the town if the world was to be saved.
By now, the town had folded, shrank, and lost its color until it was a blank page. The Princess picked it up in her flat hand and gave it to Waylon. The party asked what would happen to her. She said she would go now to be reunited with the princess whose shadow she was, who had grown into a queen and died a long time ago. With than, the color faded from her, and she drifted to the ground, a paper cutout in the shape of the shadow of a seven-year-old girl.
The party broke the magic gems they had been given to return to the headquarters of the princesses. They found only one gnome guarding the equipment. He was surprised to see them as it had been weeks since they went on their mission. They were presumed to have failed, and the princesses and the amassed armies began the assault on the Sapphire City.
Realizing there was no time to lose, the party affixed the book page to a wall, then passed through the door into the outer sanctum of the Wizard in the Sapphire Castle. Crossing the circular room to the grand doors on the other side down a cerulean carpet, they were attacked by a mass of shadows from several other doors. Surrounded, the party fought through the minions surprisingly quickly (the shadows only rolled one to-hit roll in the double digits!), then listened at the door. Nothing.
Opening it, they found the Wizard on the other side, but he was not as they expected. He was desiccated and insensate upon his throne, energy draining from his body into the black, darkly glowing miniature sun that hung menacingly above his head.
Before they could do anything, a thick column of smoke-like shadow emerged from the orb, forming into an immense snake-like form with a human face. It spoke in a like the grind of heavy stone: "I am the worm that gnaws at the corpse of time. A cancer in the heart of existence. I have come to bring an ending to this world!"
Master of the Dungeon
Rpg dungeons sometimes have bosses, but mostly they seem to sit and wait for dungeoneers to get to them. In other media, they sometimes take a more active role taunting the protagonists or bedeviling them in various ways before the ultimate conflict. While this might become tedious, I feel like when used judiciously, it could be an interesting change of pace.
Time Trial
Despite the emphasis on resource management in some dungeon games, I don't think I've seen a dungeon that opened and close on a certain schedule. This is the case in all the "bauble"-based vaults in Reynolds Revenger series and forecasting the opens and how long they will last is an important job for looters. The anime adaptation of I Left My A-Rank Party... also has some dungeons for which time is a factor, as I recall.
A dungeon with strict time limits, in addition to adding pressure to move quickly, would also force characters to have some strategy about what they explore and loot. Do you try for the big-ticket items immediately or focus on quick exits with lower value items?
A Team Sport
While adventuring guilds aren't ubiquitous in settings, they're an established element. What I don't think I have seen in a rpg setting, though, is competing guilds or organizations (larger than individual parties). Inspiration could be found in the chariot racing factions (demes) of Byzantium or Roman collegia.
If that alone isn't enough to convince to you, Jason and I have short comic that will appear in the issue now that that stretch goal has been surpassed. It's called Spells Against Civility. Here's the pitch:
Harken to this tale of two rival wizards, apprenticed together, now alike in Art, pettiness, and vainglory...
Marzomon, once the Golden, former hero whose reputation fell under shadow of cowardice and party abandonment. He now ekes out a living trading on his former glories and hawking dubious male enhancement magics.
Hokus the Black, who sold his soul and other vital constituencies piecemeal to various diabolic entities and must stay ahead of his creditors as he seeks to overcome his rival.
If any of the above sounds cool to you--and particularly if all of it does--then head over to backerkit and give some support!
With sword and shield, and a bag with a couple of coins (a KS reward from Outgunned Adventure) she set out to go to the wizard's tower (the upstairs of our home) where she had been told that a wizard had imprisoned a unicorn (a statue of the Last Unicorn from movie located on a bookshelf in her bedroom).
The quest involved the occasional puzzle (a tic-tac-toe cypher, a coordinate grid puzzle, riddle answering, and some light math) combined with random encounters. These were strategically placed pairs of cups, one of which had a monster (a cardboard mini) under it and the other either a coin or a friendly encounter that provided clues. For example, a gnome Meeple revealed that the Lime Gnome (a green garden gnome statue that for some reason sits in our dining room) runs an apothecary shop that will sell you a potion that gives a power up.
Monster fights were handled with simple dice rolls of a d6. Scoring a hit required beating the monster's roll by a certain amount, and monsters had a certain number of "hit points." My daughter had her own "life points" in the form of three hearts on sheets of paper clipped together.
As it turned out, my daughter was very luck. She only fought one monster before the boss and out rolled the monster every single time.
She enjoyed it and immediately asked for another one, but I said that would have to wait for another day.
The group objects to the possibility of running into their earlier selves, but Princess Viola and her Gnomes already had that figured out. The slide show they present says they are sending the PCs back to 5 days after they left the area.
When they arrive in the past, there is still one Gloom Elf in the tower, but he's in no mood for fighting. He says the Shadow retreated into the large, whirlpool of shadow that now takes up most of the tower, but there was a blockage in it somewhere and he doesn't seem to have gotten where he was going.
With little else to go on, the party jumps in after him. They find themselves (surprisingly) in a prison dungeon, partially flooded, and partially caved in, run by Mole Folk. The mole folk are remarkably lackadaisical about their situation, noting that time runs differently here, but they are reasonably friendly. The dungeon itself is something of a maze with unnatural darkness, so even the mold guards used unspooling twine to help from getting lost. The prisoners are in oubliettes with sort of steampunk contraption doors, set to open when their sentence is up.
Using their hand-held device given to them previously by the Princesses, the party discovers the Shadow is in one of these cells. Waylon is able to pick the locking mechanism, causing the chronometer to run faster, making it open.
The Shadow is inside, and though the part is expecting him to fight them, he is willing to go, even knowing what they are up to. Having had different experiences from the Wizard, he has had a change of heart. He says if they can find "the bridge" located elsewhere in the dungeon, they can get to a place to acquire a page from the Book of Doors that will take them directly to the Wizard's sanctum.
The party sends the Shadow back to the Princesses with a gem. The Shadow suggests the way to find the bridge is to ask the guards. They intend to do just that, but no sooner than they are out of the cell and debating a course of action than a random encounter roll leads to a very ugly bird-beast coming upon them.
At its base, necromancy is the magical art of summoning and controlling shades. It's practice is watched closely by local authorities and the Instrumentality (in those areas where it holds sway). Being able to interact with the shades of the recently deceased is undeniably useful, not the least in forensic necromancy. Where necromancers primarily run afoul of the Instrumentality and temporal authorities is when they use their arts to create undead.
The criminal necromancer creates undead for two primary reasons. The first is for manual labor. These workers don't require a shade in the semblance of any particular person, so necromancers can pluck from the either degraded or partial shades; rudimentary data on physical movements is their primary concern. With a corpse as a substrate and sufficient art applied to their animation, a necromancer can turn out laborers for difficult conditions or troops whose shock value may compensate for their lack of intelligence and skill at arms.
The second application is more lucrative but requires more skill and time. That is the provision of immortality, or as close as their arts may come to it. This requires the creation of a specially made shade, imaged with precision from the current mental vector of the aspiring immortal. In the fallen Latter Age, this generally means destructive mapping of the individual's brain and its functioning. The intellect is then housed in a suitable, durable platform and placed within their old body. The body will inevitably decay, but the necromancer's arts can delay that decay, preserving function perhaps for millennia. The culmination of these techniques is the lich, though botched jobs, and cost- or material-saving techniques have created many other variations, which are more common.
Little is known for certain about these beings. In Denizens of the Beyond by Pseudo-Vespydron, the most widely known work to examine them in detail, Mind Flayers are said to have come from the sphere of Mars, but whether they are natives to that world or from some even more distant home, even Denizens rather credulous author does not say.
Pseudo-Vespydron uncritically accepts the cephalopod-headed humanoid appearance of popular portrayals and the idea that they were obligate consumers of human brains. The later (and comparatively more sober) histories of Malgrunda note no reliable descriptions of their physical form exist and put forward the theory that their purpose in preying upon the Earth was to acquire not foodstuffs but slave minds, derived from the destructive mapping of the brains of still-living captives. Perhaps the only place where she might be criticized in straying from established fact is in the time she devotes to Hseng's baseless assertion that the cephalopod skull is actually the memory of an environmental helmet with attached manipulators.
Like the clerics of the Instrumentality, those that might be termed druids are aware to one degree or another that in more lucent ages the environment of the Earth and its citizens interaction with it were managed by a great Mind. This Mind is no more, at least not in any unified form (so the clerics believe), but the many of the component minds still haunt the world, and the particles of its sensory apparatus of that superintelligence still weave through the winds, fall with the rains, and course through the bloodstreams of animals.
By means of secret lore and technology, the druids are able to converse and with the lesser minds that record and synthesize this sensory data. These processes are known as elementals. While the elementals occasionally form connections with more active systems on their own, the druid's involvement often bridges the two, giving the earth a voice to humankind that dwells upon it. Like the magi, druids are at times able to command the remnant nanotechnological systems, though how they achieve these powers is a closely guarded secret. Among their more impressive abilities, they can cause avatars to be instantiated from natural features for short periods of time or effect change in local weather patterns.
Unlike the Instrumentality, the druids do not believe that the Gaean mind is irrevocably destroyed. Instead, they view her as suffering from an illness, and illness from which they work to help her recover. They don't seek the re-ascendence of humankind, but rather the restoration of a balance they feel the Ancients achieved but then squandered.
Our Land of Azurth 5e game continued last night as the party confronted the Wizard of Azurth and Morzengersturm over the fate of Roderick Drue, a young occultist, at the Columbia Exposition in 1893 Chicago.
The Wizard recognizes the party calls forth shadows in the form of Expo attendees to attack them. And there are a lot of them! Luckily these are minions (as per the minion rules in Flee, Mortals!), so the party is able to mow them done, but it takes a while and gives them a moment of fright as there are a lot of them. Erekose, Waylon, and the activated Figurine of Wondrous Power Bear takes down five at the entrance of the tent. Shade goes after those coming through the side of the tent with her bow. Zabra witchbolts a couple of them.
Zabra's familiar, a cat, is dutifully carrying the transport gem to the target, Roderick Drue. When it breaks the gem with a bite, a cloud of colorful smoke engulfs both cat and occultist and transports them to the Land of Azurth.
Waylon gets frightened by the shadows, so moves inside for an attack on Mortzengersturm. The party has a history with the Mad Manticore as they killed him in--well, their past, his future. Zabra delivers a psychic bolt that incapacitates the Manticore wizard before he can act.
His ally and his minions gone, the Wizard teleports away.
The party uses their other jewels to return to Azurth themselves. After some healing they are ready to plan their next mission: black to the Shadow Tower.
The magi of the several collegia seek out newly emerged mages to teach them to use their gifts. Those wild talents who are not initiated into a collegium are known as sorcerers.
The place of the magi varies across the cultures of the world. Where the Instrumentality is at its strongest their practice is generally, they are restricted, regulated, and monitored. Occasionally they are outright banned, but their abilities are simply too valuable to governments and even to the clergy, for this to be a common practice.
Nevertheless, the life of a magus is often precarious. Superstitious common folk can easily turn against them, and Instrumentality zealots often eager to find a reason to punish or imprison them. Beyond that, the very forces they wield and the knowledge they seek can easily prove dangerous to them as much as anyone.