Failed Career: Cultist

You get

Blood stained robes, a very vicious-looking dagger, a brand of some heretical mark somewhere on your body.

Why did you leave the flock?

  1. Purity: Despite wanting to be in the hip crowd of cool chaos cultists and to be able to hang with all the hip bad boys & girls, it turns out your soul was incorruptible. When your cult finally accumulated enough virginal blood to someone the Festering Plague Goat, it shrieked when it set its gaze upon you, disgusting even the Fetid Lord.
  2. Ignorance: You didn’t realize everyone was serious about this whole “bring on the apocalypse” thing, you thought it was just a social club to wear spooky robes and practice cackling.
  3. Escape: Unable to produce any more food to your vampire patron, they turned to feed on the cult itself. You were able to head out of town while you heard screams and the fluttering of wings behind you.
  4. Disappointment: After your Dark Messiah manifested, they kind of just hung around and was always eating your food, asking to crash in your hut. They were always promising dark gifts but right now they just needed to get back on their feet if you could just spare a few silver pieces.
  5. Bargain: Arrested for your dastardly deeds, the sheriff offered you a choice between the gallows or ratting out your snake-worshipping buddies. You chose freedom, although you’re sure the old arch priest knows it was you who snitched.
  6. Revelation: The whole cult scene goes much deeper than you ever expected. Much more heinous entities dwell in the dark, and your want to work your up (or down?) the infernal ladder.

What do you still have from the cult?

  1. Infernal Parasite: One of your deity’s demonic messengers stabbed your stomach with its scorpion tale. You now have a demonic bot-fly living in your abdomen that will sometimes add its shriek to any war cry you are able to do, creating a chilling dissonance.
  2. Pristine Milk: Your cults mascot turned out to be a top-notch dairy animal. You still have a tin canister of some of the finest goat milk around.
  3. Horrifying Mask: The bronze face is of some contorted, twisting maw of teeth, tongues, and eyes. Wearing it generally creeps others, and sometimes yourself, out.
  4. Cacophonous Flute: A wreck of a flute, if you are able to play it for a considerable amount of time everyone involved must save vs. migraine. Assuming they get beyond the initial annoyance and allow you to continue your playing.
  5. Glyphed Parchment: You took a scroll from the sacrifice room of your cult. You never learned to decipher the runes contained on it, but perhaps you could find someone who can.
  6. Unholy Priest’s Signet Ring: Thinking you would be able to quickly pawn this, everyone you have shown this ring to so far gasps and ushers you away from their stall immediately.

Failed Career: Cook

Medieval cook

You get

A big iron ladle, a flour-dusted apron, one dull cutting knife.

What killed your love for cooking?

  1. Curse: The curse laid upon the land by the Rasping Beast of the Wood makes it pretty hard to cook anything, when all of the egg yolks have been transformed into curdled blood, and the fish scream with every bite.
  2. Etiquette: You had no idea that the herbs you picked for the Druid staying as your lord’s guest were parts of the dryad he loved. You snuck away in the night fearing his retribution.
  3. Repulsion: The delicacies of the nobles has taken a turn for the unsettling. No longer will you produce pickled gnome eyes or goblins marrow pudding!
  4. Framed: You lord was stricken blind after eating one of your Grete Pyes, but you swear it was that rascal of a squire who was always sneaking into your kitchen that poisoned them.
  5. Boredom: A severe lack of interest in the local cuisine exhausted you. Maybe if you plunder the kitchen of the abandoned wizard tower you heard about will unveil new realms of flavor.
  6. Mishap: You don’t know if perhaps the herbs you picked grew too close to the fairy stones, or perhaps your interpretation of the recipe accidentally resulted in a spell, but the soup you were preparing became animated, and it curses your name to this day for giving it its horrendous existence.

What keepsake reminds you of the old days?

  1. Fairly Exquisite Spice Kit: Tins, jars, and pouches full of cardamon, ginger, nutmeg, sugar, and other spices. Maybe even a pinch of saffron.
  2. The Lord’s Grain: Before leaving your lord’s employment you snatched a wheelbarrow, took it into the stores and completely filled it with flour before sprinting down into the wilds.
  3. Bardic Creature: A catfish you were about to process looked you directly in the eyes and began to sing the most beautiful siren’s song you have ever heard. You now carry it in a large iron pot full of water.
  4. Prophetic Fruit: A hedge warlock traded for one of your pies, and gave you a supposedly magical apple. He claimed that if you ask the apple a question whose answer is a being, and you take a bite from this apple, the answer’s face will appear in the browning of the flesh.
  5. Peach Pie of the Sempiternal Scent: A delicious pie that always smells as if it was just pulled from the oven, always a temperature that is just shy of hot.
  6. A Miraculous Recipe: Stolen or accidentally stumbled upon, you have the starting framework of a miraculous flat circle of bread covered in pasted tomato and covered in cheeses. If you can just get motivated and get the ratios correct you think it could be popular someday.

Inspired by Electric BastionlandKnave, and Ten Foot Polemic.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Failed Career: Cleric

Clerics

You get

Oversized robes, a tarnished holy symbol, a formerly tonsured haircut now overgrown with stubble.

Why did you depart from the church?

  1. Misinterpretations: A villager conducted seance with their recently deceased family member, a long-standing member of your flock. It turns out religious counseling by you led to their direct damnation.
  2. Illiteracy: You were able to trick your superiors into thinking you could read by just staring absently into the illuminated texts for hours, but when actually asked to discuss readings from the scriptures, you were only able to give the most ridiculous of guesses.
  3. Dark Night: Confronted by the stipulations of faith, you found yourself dizzied with doubts. Maybe you can find enlightenment in the relics hidden by the past civilizations.
  4. Imposter: It turns out that the particular deity worshipped by your church was just some diminutive fae creature playing a joke on humankind.
  5. Greed: A confessee admitted to breaking into a local crypt and swooned at the glittering treasures buried within, but also fled when something skulked in the shadows.
  6. Corruption: You discovered several plots within the church – ploys to steal from peasants, absolutions provided to nobles in exchange for wealth, and even ritualistic pleas to dark powers. Disaffected you turned to a life on the road.

What final gift were you given?

  1. Bracelet of the Truthful Tongue: A wrist-sized loop of wooden beads, when worn in the presence of a lie the twine will snap, spilling the beads.
  2. Silver Aspergillum: A finely fashioned wand that allows the wielder to sprinkle holy water over nearby subjects.
  3. Clewd’s Catalog of Chaotic Creatures: A leather-bound tome containing dozens of descriptions of demonic beings.
  4. Dentures of the Saint: A small pouch of wooden teeth rumored to have been the eating implements of a notable saint. Whether or not this is true, they at least look holy to you.
  5. Incense of the Ascended Man: A stick of sweet smelling incense supposedly used by the famous ascetic during their meditation that led to their apotheosis. Objects around 10 coins in weight will float on the smoke of the incense hundreds of feet up, never to be seen again.
  6. Vampire Hunting Kit, Deluxe Edition: A lavishly polished wooden box containing cloves garlic, vials of holy water, a small mirror, 3 wooden stakes, a mallet, and a scroll containing one revocation of invitation bearing a bishop’s seal.

Inspired by Electric BastionlandKnave, and Ten Foot Polemic.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Failed Career: Burglar

You get

A dagger, well-kept leather shoes, a dark wool cloak.

Professional burglary is no longer part of your life, why?

  1. Judged: The last time you were caught they took an ear, next time you’ll probably be executed.
  2. Reformed: The Acolytes of Law convinced you that your actions brought unholy Chaos into the world. Now you seek to pay for your past transgressions.
  3. Cursed: Rumors that the last house you breeched were a witch’s hut were entirely true. Now when you sleep you have dreams of that house being hoisted on dozens of legs, crawling ever towards you.
  4. Soured: While out robbing another, you returned to find your home had been burgled. Having tasted your own medicine you found it very bitter, and resolved to leave it behind.
  5. Pursued: A bounty has been put on your head. You hope to find lands where no one recognizes you, or to earn enough gold to perhaps repay your crimes.
  6. Bungled: You just were never good at it – you were continually caught in the act, assaulted by your targets, repeatedly found yourself having to make escaped by leaping into manure piles. Maybe adventuring will be different?

What was the most outstanding thing you stole?

  1. Lucky Coin: This coin seems to always land the side you intend upwards.
  2. Monkey’s Paw: An unattached paw of a money. When something is placed in its palm the fingers wrap around the object with an unbreakable grip. Squeezing the wrist stump causes the hand to release its grip.
  3. Fossilized Legend: A palm-sized hunk of amber containing the miniature skeleton of a winged serpent.
  4. Makani’s Magnificent Messaging Cube: An elaborately-decorate cube with a removable lid. Retains one sentence spoken into it, and will replay the exact wording in the speaker’s voice once when opened.
  5. Coin-Purse of Copper Conversion: A peculiar leather purse that will immediately convert any coin or gems placed within to copper, bearing the markings or minting of the region that the owner is currently within.
  6. Suspicious Song Bird: A cage containing one warbler that will begin chirping when in the presence of a statement that is unlikely to be true.

Inspired by Electric BastionlandKnave, and Ten Foot Polemic.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Failed Career: Charlatan

You Get

A fancy hat, a cane, several vials of indeterminant liquid from prior ventures.

What Drove You Out?

  1. Snakes: The source of the oil you were intending to sell united and rose up against you.
  2. Betrayal: Your Mark sold you out to the Mercantile Guilds. Your old partner now lives comfortably while you’ll never be able to professionally sell anything again.
  3. Vengeance: The last town you schemed over petitioned a Law Spirit to to get even with you.
  4. Guilt: You honestly thought mercury lolipops would have made the children stronger.
  5. Deficiancy: You’ve gone through almost every idea in the book, now you adventure for a sense of inspiration.
  6. Runner-Up: An old rival always beat you to the punch – better pitch, more elaborate show, and they even made some money off of it. You decided you were tired of being second fiddle.

What Did You Keep From Your Past?

  1. Pizazz: A small crate of fireworks is left from your smoke and mirrors performances.
  2. A Very Vicious Pug: You often dressed it up in fake leathery wings and mock horns, then you’d “exorcise” the little imp with ancient chants and hidden sausages.
  3. Rock Oil: One pint of a grease that only lubricates minerals.
  4. Cassiel’s Clever Cure: A potion that will cure any disease, but unfortunately causes a different, completely random one.
  5. Soap: A by-product of your usual platform, you have a nearly endless supply of lye.
  6. Invisibility Balm: One tin of an amazing lotion that will turn one individual invisible. The user’s skin becomes completely transparent, but the skeleton and organs remain opaque.

Inspired by Electric BastionlandKnave, and Ten Foot Polemic.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Failed Career: Butcher

You Get

A meat cleaver, a bloody apron, one ham hock.

Why Did You Leave Butchery Behind?

  1. Bankruptcy: Your practice failed turn any sort of a profit.
  2. Guild Standards: Things that the guild believed to be “unsanitary” and “unethical” were a major part of your practice. You were stripped of your title.
  3. Hemophobia: Despite being a fan of the art of the cut, the sight of blood leaves you faint.
  4. Cursed: The nearby Necromancer made it pretty impossible for you to safely do your job, on account of all the animals rising to eat your brains mid-butchering.
  5. Plant-Based Druidism: Your community was ran by a circle of Druids that made it very clear that if it wasn’t made out of legumes, it wasn’t welcome.
  6. One Too Many Close Calls: Having gained a wide array of scars, lost a few fingers, and spilled quite a bit of your blood, you thought plundering tombs sounded safer.

What Strange Thing Did You Find On The Job?

  1. Cleaver of Returning: Your knife is either enchanted or built in such a fashion that it boomerangs back to you when thrown. Unfortunately catching it is an extremely harrowing process.
  2. Bottle of Sumptuous Blood: One of your primest cuts bled a liquid that makes any beast foam at the mouth. Pouring this out in the vicinity of animal will render it ravenous.
  3. A Highly Obedient Hog: The one you couldn’t kill, you have a very reliable pig that follows your every step.
  4. A Lucky Femur: One of the bones of a cow you slaughtered was riddled with runes. Surely it provides you some protection.
  5. Regenerative Grounds: A fistfull of ground beef grows a cubic inch of new beef every day. Does not preserve yesterday’s meat any longer, though.
  6. Nesting Best: The last cow you butchered ended up being hollow, containing a sheep within. It walks and talks like any other sheep, but you suspect that there’s an even smaller animal within.

Inspired by Electric BastionlandKnave, and Ten Foot Polemic.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Failed Career: Beggar

You Get

A sling, crutches, dirty rags, a beggar’s bowl.

What Led You To Your Lot?

  1. Family Business: You were born into it. Your parents raised as beggars, and you followed in their footsteps. At least one of your parents are still out there, with their can and their beggar’s bowl.
  2. Cheated: Everything rode on that bet and you were sure to win, but somehow the house was stacked against you. You swear you’ll get back at your rival some day.
  3. Asceticism: you follow a faith or philosophy that disallows you from owning more than a few things, needing to rely on the kindness of others. The organization you follow is possible to be called on from time to time.
  4. Profit: Its actually very lucrative, take the max amount of of money for a starting character.
  5. Doomed: ill omens followed your every step. You’ve never been able to hold steady work, but you’ve picked up on secrets others wish not to know.
  6. Beggar’s Guild: You hold membership in a secret organization of spies and information brokers. You can tap into a network of unnoticed people who readily trade in knowledge.

What Is The One Special Thing You Own?

  1. A Good Friend: A faithful dog that always seems to have a scent for extra scraps or an opportunity.
  2. Everdripping Cap: One a day when you turn your hat upside down, it will produce one pint of low-quality ale. Unfortunately your hat isn’t super resilient, so its always soggy and reeks of alcohol.
  3. Dire Catfish Catcher: An impressively long fishing pole you swear can never snap, with an impressive tale about a fish just as big and resiliant.
  4. Emergency Tooth: A wooden tooth you can pop open. Useful for storing a few drops of a potion. Contains one store of a fairly potent healing brew – restore 1d4 HP when you’re able to pop it open.
  5. Leomund’s Placid Pile: A pile of rags that you’re able to crawl underneath, whereupon you find yourself in a pocket dimension – a small, modestly stocked hut is contained within. Unfortunately anyone who disturbs the pile ejects you from your cozy home.
  6. Spirit-Scaring Spit: One small box of chewing tobacco that otherworldly beings find extremely distasteful. For some minor spirits spewing the chew directly onto their face is a semi-reliable form of banishment. Only one use remains.

Inspired by Electric Bastionland, Knave, and Ten Foot Polemic.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Failed Career: Alchemist

You Get

A lantern, a flask of lamp oil, a quarter staff.

Why Did You Stop Practicing?

  1. Lack of Talent: The most advanced concoction you could come up with was salt water.
  2. Heresy: Local clergy found your theories and practices to be blasphemous. They confiscated your works and now you owe a minor indulgence to the church.
  3. Exiled: You accidentally brewed a love potion instead of the request routine salve. The subject was an heir to a local position of nobility, and their parent would rather see you dead than their offspring end up with you.
  4. Hunted: Somehow you created a homunculus, a small 6-inch replica of yourself. This creature hates you with every fiber of its being.
  5. Betrayed: You’re pretty sure your mentor was slowly killing you with arsenic. Every once in a while you’ll find yourself in a vomiting fit.
  6. Accident: The last concoction you brewed resulted in a massive explosion, scarring you horribly, and burning down a significant portion of home village, many of whom will never forgive you.

What Were You Able To Make Away With?

  1. Alchemist’s Fire: a clay bottle filled with sticky green fluid that catches fire when exposed to air. Counts a bottle of burning oil without needing to lit.
  2. Bomb: Head-sized iron ball filled with explosive powder with an attached wick. Deals d12 damage to everyone nearby it, and can cause noteworthy damage to structures it is placed nearby.
  3. Vial of Acid: Can disintegrate 1 cubic inch of any kind of metal. If used as a splash weapon, the target must pass a save or suffer -1 to Charisma if applied to the face, -1 Dexterity if applied to a limb, or -1 Constitution if applied to the torso.
  4. Tincture Of Truth-Talking: Only a few drops remain, enough for one dose. This tasteless clear liquid will compel whoever ingests it to answer questions truthfully for d6 * 10 minutes.
  5. Magnesium Shavings: A pouch containing d6 uses that will easily ignite and burn intensely.
  6. Basic Alchemist’s Kit: A wooden chest filled with four corked glass vials and stand, a small bronze weight scale, pestle & mortar, stirring rods, a bottle of solvent, and a pouch of salt.

Inspired by Electric Bastionland, Knave, and Ten Foot Polemic.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Gods’ Isle Brainstorming

Dark Souls 3: The Ringed City DLC – Beating Slave Knight Gael ...

For thousands of years the Gods reigned. Having formed creation out of the primal waters of chaos, breathing life into mankind, and blessing us with their gifts they ruled over use for a multitude of generations, a true golden age.

As the years waned on the Gods bestowed upon us civilization and the rights of kingship. They showed us how to conquer the wilds, build tools, raise cities, and even how to shape reality with powerful magics. After fostering us the Gods departed for their home, a gleaming city on the Isle in the Center of the World.

Mankind gave thanks to the Gods in the form of offerings, and would send their dead in boats to live out the afterlife with their Creators.

But something changed eons after their departure. The sun hung low and red in the sky, and the moon slowly faded into the black of night. The dead were found listing the coasts in the wasted vessels they were sent out upon. Those few that retained any semblance of speech told of a massive, tarnished city hidden in the fog. No gods found in attendance, only ravenous ghosts.

After the dead returned, so did the first adversaries. A multitude of beings whom the gods wrestled and bound, the unmakers of reality tore through fissures in the veil, setting themselves upon humankind.

City after city fell the unearthly incursions, and those from within who believed us lost in our ways, deserving of damnation. You are one of the many sent on an arduous voyage, to find the gods and plead for their aid, or to find the tools they used against the demons in the time before humankind.

Primeval d6 Rough Draft

I’ve been getting more and more into what people are calling “pre-D&D” or Ancient School Roleplaying, basically something along the lines of Braunstein and Blackmoor.

If you want a primer on the details I recommend Norbert Matausch’s excellent Play Worlds Not Rules series.

I’ve seen several systems in this style, three of my favorites are:

I love all of these, and have even ran a two hour one shot of Landshut in Hyboria that was a lot of fun. Like any tinkering geek I have my own way of running this style of game, which I am currently calling “Primeval d6.”

I want to put together a standalone pdf of my rules, but I wanted to type up the current working set as I think about what I would add or take away.

Primeval d6 Below