Turn Two Results
Year 2714, Month of the Mantis
State of the Realm
Falcon's Hollow:
Treasury: 3,550 gp (Current Upkeep: 104 gp a month)
Income: 1,000 gp/month
Upkeep: 104 gp/month
Laboratory: Standard (moderate bonuses to construction and research, lab space 20 (enough room for 20 projects))
Minions: 2 homunculi, 1 advanced clockwork homunculus, Igorina
Golems: 1 clockwork pikeman
Falcon's Hollow Reputation: Harmless Kook (60/100)
Homunculi can perform 'Homunculi Actions' once per month. A d100 will be rolled, upon a critical failure (2-15), they will messily die without completing their task. Upon the roll of a 1, they will cease to be, but successfully carry out their mission in a truly spectacular fashion.
For now, each turn represents a month of work.
Events
Roll: 76
There is a steady, but noticeable increase in the sales of darkwood. The foremen are out shouting at the lumberjacks from dawn to dusk, working them to the bone in order to meet their quotas. Inevitably, there is an accident, at least four lumberjacks are maimed, two killed: pulped by an ancient growth tree the size of a wizard's tower. A hasty funeral is arranged, one that you attend completely by accident. You are shanghaied into attending the wake as well, and drink until the sun is up. Your own production of sulfuric acid must to rise to the occasion - not that that is an onerous burden, although it was not the wisest idea to begin modifications while suffering from a hangover. Oh well, all's well that ends well, you didn't really need your eyebrows
anyway.
You certainly do not begrudge the additional gold.
What you do begrudge is the presence of
visitors. Surly, dour men in stinking armor start arriving in force. You understand that they are here to protect the wood: from what, or whom, you haven't the faintest idea unless the wolves have somehow gotten into their canine heads to attack the river. The darkwood is
floated downstream - and it is not like anything less than an army could be spiriting it away.
Whether construction work, or something else, no fairies attack again this month. Lucky!
Result: +250 gold, slight increase in reputation, influx of mercenaries
Diplomacy Actions
Diplomacy - The Jack'A'Napes Adventurers
With the recent surge of wolf attacks, adventurers have become more numerous, as well as more chatty. It might be worth your while to go talk to a few of them down at the Jack'A'Napes Inn.
Chance of success: 80%.
Success: ???.
Failure: ???.
[cont'd from Part 1, and Part 2]
"The ring is sufficient," you tell the warrior-slash-necromancer, about to pocket the token.
She smiles, and grabs your hand. Her grip, although strong, is no greater than your own. It is, however, freezing cold. Your flesh crawls.
"Nuh-uh," she says, clicking her tongue. "Not until the deal is complete and I got meself my spider corpse."
You nod. She lets go, taking the ring back.
You turn to the elf.
"An amazing invention," you tell the alchemist. "But-"
You swirl the contents of the glass bottle in your hand regretfully, almost unwilling to return it. To give up the possibilities this represents:
madness! And yet, you are all too aware of the dangers experimental elixirs can represent.
"But?" he prompts breathily.
"I would prefer another research subject. A wolf from the Wolfrun Hills."
The elf nods, retrieving the bottle, and leaves.
The necromancer whistles as she takes her leaves. "If he's off to kill em' on his own, he's a deader for sure."
You shrug.
Result: Mouse Ring obtained, New Diplomacy Options available next turn
Martial Actions
Survey of Darkmoon Vale
You really do want to find those dwarven ruins rumored to exist in Darkmoon Wood. Although the only confirmed ruins are at Drokar's Crag to the North, you would adore the chance to go sight-seeing in one of the ruins. Of course, assuming they're there.
Chance of success: 60%.
Success: Survey of Darkmoon Vale, ???,
Failure: Nothing.
Roll: 101 (Critical Success!)
A survey is all about careful, systematic work. Measurements, distances, angles.
Math.
That and incredible blind luck.
You set out every morning to explore the Vale and the woods beyond. What would take others months, takes you hours: you do most of the number crunching in your head, sketching out topographical maps on the back of your handkerchief, and the edge of your shirt. Practical experience, and a lifetime spent sketching blueprints makes this easy for you - whether the sketches will survive is another, completely unrelated matter.
Perhaps you should buy a bunch of papers and bind them together like a book. Only, the pages will be blank and you will be able to sketch, or even write notes on them.
Wow! You truly are a genius. If only you could write that idea down somewhere...
You discover the major nest of giant spiders, and skirt cautiously around it; the underground warren in which the boars hide when they are not outside; and even a number of fairy rings, although devoid of any actual fairies; the real fairies are living, as far as you can tell, nowhere. There is something else, something dark that lives in these woods. You think you spot it several times, a thin, humanoid-like creature that is far too tall to be anything besides half-giant, but you only ever catch a glimpse of it.
Finding it, if it does exist, will require time and energy.
Time
much better spent on investigating an archaeological marvel.
It is, much as it pains you to admit, purely luck that you stumble across it at all: tripping on an exposed tree root, you roll and slam straight into a massive boulder - the hollow, metallic echo of your impact identifies it as a fake. Some careful investigation later and you discover the clever mechanism that keeps a false door concealed: as you open it inch by creaking inch, you are assaulted by hot, stale air, and hear, as if from far away, the rumbling of running water and the grinding of metal gears.
Without a doubt, it is a dwarvish ruin of some sort.
Before you can investigate any further, you hear high-pitched, drunken singing.
Fairies!
They haven't noticed your incursion yet: given how difficult it was for you to open this door, you suspect that this passage into their 'kingdom' is one that even they were unaware about. You close it quickly, resolved to return at a later point. Like tomorrow, maybe.
Result: Darkwood Vale surveyed, +15 to rolls in Darkwood Vale, Tall Slender Humanoid (?) Creature Seen, Blackrock Ruin secret entrance discovered
Hunt wolves at Wolfrun Hills
Now that wolves have come out in force, hunting them down is
extremely dangerous. Although the bounty on every wolf killed has increased, after the last four parties were sent out and disappeared without a word, people have stopped trying. There have been repeated sightings of a
huge dire wolf hanging around there. Rumors have it that it is anything from a minor deity, to a spellforged abomination, to a restless ghost.
Chance of success: 25%.
Success: Wolf pelts, Major Reputation Increase, 1d6*75 gp.
Failure: ???
Dispatched: Elf Alchemist (moderate bonus to martial rolls)
Roll: 47 (Failure!)
The elf returns to Falcon's Hollow bloody and feverish. His various potions have all been consumed, and he himself is barely coherent, bleeding heavily all over your new lab renovations. He does not have any wolf carcasses for you to dissect either. You send him into the town proper for medical treatment, annoyed. Is there
nobody that can do things right, these days?
You suppose it's too late to retrieve the spider bits you already gave him, you performed the dissection early in the month.
Ugh, sometimes you are simply too generous.
Result: Failure! Elf Alchemist opinion of you lowered.
Stewardship Actions
Improve Laboratory II
Your laboratory is
decent, but not great. You'd have to spend a hefty amount, to turn it into something truly great, but if that is the price of SCIENCE! so be it. Cannot be performed by a homunculus.
Cost: 4500 gp.
Success: Standard laboratory. (moderate boost to research and technology rolls, moderate boost to construction rolls if carried out in the lab, lab space increases by an additional 10 places, +1 learning action, Upkeep: 100 gp a turn)
For the second month in a row, your laboratory is a din of hammering nails, sawing wood, and clanking gears. You find the noise and work soothing, although Igorina does not agree. You, however, are almost dancing with visions of what your laboratory might look like: the specialized tools
here, the forge
there, the place for homunculi to work over in that corner there-
Too soon it is over. Your lab is now
acceptable for a scientist of your stature. 20 on-going projects is a good start for any arcanist.
Now you'll need to find some competent help. Or build it,
muhahahaha!
Result: Standard laboratory obtained. (moderate boost to research and technology rolls, moderate boost to construction rolls if carried out in the lab, lab space increases by an additional 10 places, +1 learning action, Upkeep: 100 gp a turn)
Improve Organization II
Your notes, your files, and your blueprints are now all in one easily accessible location. Curiously, you still require time to sort through your things. Perhaps you should look into this 'drawers' and 'folders' thing Igorina keeps suggesting! Cannot be performed by a homunculus.
Chance of success: 80%.
Success: +1 Stewardship.
Failure: Try again next time!
Result: 15 (failure!)
You carefully organize your things so that they can be placed in a drawer. By this, you mean, you make sure all your papers are small enough to fit within a drawer, and if they are not, you fold them until they
are. Blueprints go in Drawer B. Other blueprints go in Drawer A, C, and D. You fold some papers over others for organizational purposes. These are 'folders,' right?
Curiously, it does not seem to aid in your efficiency. Hm, perhaps next month.
Homunculus Actions
Improve Barn
Alpha somehow built a barn last month. It's serviceable, but it could definitely be improved. That west-leaning wall is
really leaning. Besides, you want a proper cold room to store cadavers. Can be performed by a homunculus.
Cost: 1350 gp.
Success: Your barn can now store creatures larger than sheep and includes a cold room in which you can store meat. Or, y'know, bodies.
Result: 55 (success!)
You dispatch Igorina to ensure that Alpha follows your instructions to the letter this time. While one baby goat is immaterial, if an entire flock of goats, or donkeys, or cows goes missing and winds up in your barn, the good citizens of Falcon's Hollow will not merely be content with breaking out the torches and pitchforks and chasing you out of town. Mucking around with dark forces better left alone is one thing,
stealing? That is an altogether different matter, one that is dealt with most harshly, and brings to mind visions of hands missing arms, and teeth missing mouths.
Fortunately, with Igorina there to keep him in line, Alpha
merely improves the barn, and builds you your cold room. You glare at the finished product suspiciously, but if there's an extra padlock filled with prized bullocks, it escapes your keen analytic gaze.
Result: Your barn can now store creatures larger than sheep and includes a cold room in which you can store meat. Or, y'know, bodies.
Construct Dependable Homunculus
You already have one, but having another can't hurt. They're thankfully
very cheap for what is essentially a servant made of brass and iron. Can be performed by a homunculus.
Cost: 90 gp.
Success: You now own an additional homunculus!
Result: 1 (?!?!)
All your homunculi are overachievers.
If you were the type to pray, you would swear to god that they are doing this
on purpose. As you are not, all you can do is
sulk take notes as Igorina pours you more (invisible) tea and comments on your table manners.
Your first task for Gamma Prime is simple. Build another homunculus. It is among the most basic tasks that a homunculus can conduct, and you are certain that your new and improved metal man is more than up to the task. You leave him with the requisite parts, give him clear instructions, and even helpfully inform him that he is the first among a new, improved breed
, muhahahaha!
You awake one day, covered in sawdust, your improvements to your
lair laboratory still half-complete, yawn explosively, walk over your scattered schematics, pour rum into your coffee, and see a tiny clockwork man.
You jerk awake, your coffee splashing onto the floor as you run to observe it. It runs on clockwork gears and a beautifully miniaturized chaos steam engine. If not for your initials stenciled into the parts, and Gamma's project number inscribed into his control apparatus, you would have sworn another artificer had appeared and sent you this creation simply to one-up you. You aren't
entirely certain if Gamma grafted the parts limb by limb, or simply built the body first, then transferred his control apparatus within, but regardless it is beautiful work.
And you don't know how it was done.
Arrrgh!
Result: -1 advanced homunculus, +1 advanced clockwork homunculus
Intrigue (Choose 1)
Intrigue -
Slight Poison Resistance
To your shame you have not yet started a regimen of basic poison resistance by means of ingesting a tiny, non-lethal dose of poison at a time to get yourself acclimated to a variety of deadly toxins.
Cost: 50 gp.
Success: +1 Intrigue in 12 turns. (only takes one turn to set up)
You purchase a variety of deadly toxins and begin applying them to yourself in minute quantities.
So far, all you've had so far are minor shakes, sweating, and the occasional sensation of vertigo. Nothing to be alarmed over, certainly.
Result: Ingested tiny quantities of poison.
Learning Actions
Learning - Research Giant Spider remains
You killed a giant spider last month. Although the biology of it is beyond you - that lies in the realm of bottle mages and effigy masters - you are not
completely inexperienced in dissection. At the very least, you will be able to understand the interplay of form and function, and as such, increase the chances of creating a schematic based on some form of arachnid. You'll have to perform the autopsy this month: any longer and the giant spider will simply rot from the inside out.
Chance of success: 75%.
Success: +1 biological schematic (giant arachnid), +10 on any research and construction rolls involving giant arachnids.
Roll: 44 (success!)
You begin the dissection of the spider early, before Alpha can get to renovating the barn, or you yourself have started earnestly improving your laboratory. Promises of the mouse ring and wolf cadavers spin eagerly in your mind, and as much as you are inured to odd smells, you have to admit that a rotting corpse will be useless to you. Muscles that have turned into a putrefying slurry will not reveal their secrets to you, so you put on a pair of glass eyes of your own design, wrap a cloth around your mouth, place on your thickest pair of gloves, put on the leather apron that you use for forgework, take out your hammer, tongs, knife, and saw, and start your dissection. The necromancer and the alchemist will be along shortly, one to harvest the appropriate glands, the other to retrieve the remainders when you are done with them.
You make a rough sketch of the beast first. Igorina aids you in this: helpfully pointing out the 'grossest parts' your diagram is missing. The fine hairs of the limbs are carefully examined, then promptly forgotten about in favor for looking at the actual musco-skeletal system. You are lucky that an arachnid has so many appendages: the first few attempts at taking them off involve irreparably damaging the chitinous exoskeleton, and ruining the more delicate muscles hidden beneath. It takes you five limbs before you have got the technique right and can take a good look at the insides of the spider. White veins stand out beneath gray flesh, you poke at them experimentally, and when all else fails, attempt to stimulate them through static shocks.
It jerks, but you are unsurprised. Most things do when subject to such energetic shocks.
Its abdomen is a bit more of a mystery: you do not fiddle with it too much in case you damage something the elf wants, and in any case, it is the central body that you are the most interested in. With a working knowledge of its legs and body, you should be able to create an arachnid-type golem. Theoretically.
"Hammer," you ask, holding out a hand.
"Hammer," Igorina says, handing you a hammer.
By the time the necromancer and the alchemist walk in, the spider has been reduced to its component pieces. Not your
best work, perhaps, but still, you were successful.
Result: +1 biological schematic (giant arachnid), +10 on any research and construction rolls involving giant arachnids.
Learning - Construct Clockwork Pikeman
You've noticed that the defenders of Falcon's Hollow carry pikes more often than they carry swords. Now that you think about it, it's a good idea: swords are expensive and difficult to master, most clockwork soldiers can only use about a quarter of their potential, handling them more like sticks than true swords. A pikeman could be more effective than a clockwork soldier while also being cheaper. Given that it'd be essentially the same clockwork soldier, it shouldn't be too hard to make the appropriate modifications.
Cost: 4,000 gp.
Chance of success: 80%.
Success: Create a clockwork pikeman. Create blueprints of clockwork pikeman, and basic clockwork pikeman.
Failure: Create clockwork soldier, greater chance of success during next attempt.
Result: 78 (success!)
It's ambitious, but you are at loathe to leave yourself without a
proper defense. An artificer without a king is like a general without an army. Useless! You spend a great deal of your accumulated wealth this month, renovating your laboratory, making it as clean as possible for your first major undertaking.
That you decide to start your first major undertaking simultaneously along with the renovations is, ah, a problem of planning. But no matter!
Your idea is simple: fashion a clockwork soldier that can use a spear. As a weapon with reach, and greater stability, as well as being cheaper to manufacture, and easier to maneuver, you are certain you can create an improved clockwork soldier. Kings like golems to
look a certain way, you would prefer them to
act a certain way.
And P-1 wholly lives up to your expectations. Although you would have to field-test it, you suspect it to be more effective than the average clockwork soldier, as well as cheaper to produce. Spears do not require the range of motion swords do, and the weapons themselves are far easier to create and replace. You do not require as much in fine gears, nor do you need the high-efficiency steam engines. Instead of spending a small fortune on each soldier, you will spend a slightly smaller fortune on each one for a superior product. Truly a delightful bit of engineering.
With
one of these mechanical marvels, you are a force to be reckoned with in your own right. Normal men would fall before these like chaff. A clay golem might be more imposing, a stone golem more durable, but a clockwork soldier - well, this is the first soldier in your army, and you are proud of it.
Success: Create a clockwork pikeman. Create blueprints of clockwork pikeman, and basic clockwork pikeman.
Personal Actions
Igorina's Lessons on Etiquette I
Igorina wishes to instruct you in the proper protocol for drinking tea. This complex social maneuver requires a small table, a tiara, the presence of Alpha, Gamma and Beta, as well as Joey the baby goat. Curiously, it does not, in fact, require tea, merely the cups. You are not entirely sure if you understand the subtle nuances: Igorina keeps on telling you you're 'getting it wrong'! You have decided that you will, in secret, record her every word, and sketch out the
PROPER TEA GUZZLING PROTOCOL using math and tiny wooden mock-ups. This plan is foolproof!
Chance of success: 90%.
Success: +1 diplomacy. Wooden models of yourself, Igorina, the homunculi, and a baby goat.
Failure: Be barred from the tea party for a
month. Probably because you set something on fire.
Roll: 61 (succcess!)
Tea is
complicated.
Your pinky must jut out just so, your hands be positioned like such, your knees touching one another, and for some reason you are supposed to nod and greet everyone.
"Lady Tottenbottenblingehrotten," you say, raising your teacup as you mangle the pronunciation of Alpha's make-believe name. In one hand you hold your saucer, the other your teacup.
Alpha nods to you and raises his teacup a hair.
You drink.
You look towards Igorina who nods solemnly. You smile widely.
Finally! You have done it! You have managed to get this strange custom down correctly.
Muhahaha-
"Pa!" Igorina complains, kicking your knee. "Stop
laughing."
"Ahem," you say, coughing into your fist, as you rub your knee. "Can I ask a question?"
"You can," she says, magnanimous.
"Is there a time I
can laugh?"
She taps her cheek thoughtfully, and says, doubtfully: "Only when you say 'off with their head!' I think."
"I'll have to order an
execution every time I need to laugh?" you say, horrified. Civilized people are more violent than you remember them being. At least at the Academe no one would look at you strangely for laughing in the middle of an ordinary conversation. You can't imagine how many people would have needed to die if you had to kill one each time you wanted to laugh. Tens of thousands, probably.
"Eggs- eggscution?" she asks you.
You drag two fingers across your neck.
"Oh! I think so? I don't think kings and queens laugh a lot."
What a horrific existence! You resolve not to become a king or queen. Why bother with royalty when science is so much more
fun?
Still, you add it to your notes. With Igorina's tutelage, you are becoming quite the accomplished tea drinking expert!
Result: +1 diplomacy. Wooden models of yourself, Igorina, the homunculi, and a baby goat.
-----------------------------
GM's Notes: Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that natural 1 so soon. Next time, try not to abuse your prospective minions so. A better than average chance still requires a d100 roll + modifiers.