So thinking about sending my crew, the Waistcoat Whalers, out into the Deathlands at some point in the future. Curious to hear about Scores that others have run sending folks into the Deathlands. What kind of challenges did you have? What kind of weird supernatural stuff? How did your players handle it? How did they get where they wanted to go?
Thanks! Looking forward to hearing what cool stuff you all came up with!
The Deathlands are a dangerous fucking place; the main reason to leave the safety of a ghost field for the death or fates-worse-than is to scavenge a world that’s been lost for nearly a thousand years. What wonders await in cities known only to the dead, places that haven’t had names on the map since well out of memory of everyone other than the Immortal Emperor?
Alternatively, what can be found beneath the rails of the Ghost Lines? Maybe cargo is lost from a train that’s too dangerous to recover – or maybe a lone Rail Jack has taken a nasty fall and has been left for dead? Maybe you could even orchestrate a derailment… if you can survive the trek to your chosen bit of rail.
Never sent a crew out into the Deathlands, but a homebrew I’m working on deals a lot with that. Here’s the list of opportunities I came up with that involve Deathlands stuff:
1. A electro-train derailed outside of the lightning barrier and its cargo left for lost.
2. A band of explorers wants special guidance out to and around the deathlands.
3. A wealthy noble wants back a family heirloom that was lost when the Lost District was cut off from the city.
4. The half-spirit creatures and flora that roam the deathlands are incredibly valuable to the right person.
5. People say they have seen a sun while outside of the lightning barrier. Could it even be possible?
6. A gang is beginning to push their activities into the deathlands.
1. A mysterious figure wants a “friend” given a “tour” of the deathlands – forever.
4. An academic is convinced there are historical ruins in the deathlands and is funding an expedition to locate and research them.
1. New ruins have been spotted in the deathlands, but so has something terrible that seems to be guarding it.
3. A section of the lightning barrier is failing, allowing for easy travel outside.
4. The people of Duskwall are having dreams of a strange voice calling them to the deathlands.
Maybe one of them will be useful?
I haven’t run anything in the deathlands but I have been thinking about it a bit lately actually.
This is just my headcanon, but I’ve been thinking about firewood and timber in Doskvol. There’s not much room for forests within the lightning barriers, but there must be plenty of good dry wood in the deathlands. I imagine it’s one of the easiest resources to harvest out there, albeit for a pretty meager reward. The deathlands scavengers who get stories told about them bring back ancient artefacts and lost heirlooms, but really your typical scavenger is just some desperate bugger in boots that are falling apart, dragging a sled heavy with hastily-chopped wood through heavy ash-drifts, hoping to make it back to the scant safety of the protective wards they’ve put on their scavenger-shack before something finds them.
I imagine the Deathlands very much like the Road (http://www.oprah.com/oprahsbookclub/read-an-excerpt-from-the-road-by-cormac-mccarthy) – long, long passages of unrelenting tedium and oppressive grey punctuated by short, sharp, savage violence from out of nowhere.
Another thing I would want to include is the imperial military. They must be equipped to operate out in the deathlands, and I like the classic post-apocalyptic scene of a group of paranoid survivors realizing that the military is the opposite of a benevolent group – they will take you out on sight. You’re better off dealing with the ghosts.
I imagine the military in the deathlands looking something like these Ashwalkers: artstation.com – Ash Walkers, First Hunt, Timofey Stepanov – the weird occult look of the Immortal Emperor’s forces combined with WW1 soldiers in gasmasks.
In the Lost District, which I feel qualifies as part of Deathlands, there are:
“Devil dogs”
Lean, very cunning wolf-like creatures who hunt in packs and aren’t afraid of ghosts. Their eyes have low-glowing vapors issuing from them.
“Spectral nest” or “Death clutch”
A pool of electroplasmic vapors that can be mistaken by the untrained for a slightly glowing fog. Attuning reveals the truth: a tangled mass of feral spectres “slumbering” until disrurbed by the living. Extremely dangerous. Ghost Voice has little, if any, affect and Compelling the group is impossible without special preparations, if at all.
“Hellspores”
A fleshy mass of pulsating fungus, each pod the size of a human child’s head. Vents flutter as the pod “exhales”, issuing tiny puffs of the namesake spores. In small amounts they are an irritant, stinging the eyes, nose, throat and skin. If disturbed the pods blast out spores, which if inhaled, are instantly lethal, the lungs searing to uselessness, the eyes shriveling and skin blistering.
“The ghost of Virgil Clemens”
This was the ghost of Virgil Clemens, a serial killer from the district before it was lost to the plague. He worked at the Barnsworth Meat, Co. as a foreman, which gave him access to a clever way to dispose of his victims: grinder number 4. Even after he was taken by the plague, he hunted, possessing what survivors he could and forcing them to feed themselves to the grinder. Their horrible deaths fed his madness and power, finally cracking the Black Mirror.
Now, Virgil’s ghost haunts the remains of the factory, the grinder the nexus of a spirit well, starved for life and tied to his abattoir. On the other side of the Mirror lies the twisted reflection of the factory: fat-smeared windows, thickened blood on the walls and floor, bits of gristle and bone in the viscera and the constant buzz of bloated corpse flies.
Where the grinder would be is a pit overflowing with human remains, the glistening mound of arms, legs, heads and innards the resting place for Virgil’s mad specter.
Over a year ago the Silver Nails attempted to repair the crack in the Mirror and destroy the spirit well. They learned it could only be done from the Other Side and a hunting party crossed. They never returned and the Nails never repeated the attempt.
“The Frozen Fever Plague”
A small mercy, this devastating disease is present but rarely encountered. The signs of its existence are unmistakable: a frost covered miasma, often filled with the icey corpses of plague victims.
(I have a whole bit on this disease)
One challenge was how disorienting it was. A dark darker than the Dusk, coupled with the haze of the lightning wall in the distance, was a grim reminder they walked where death ruled. The feeling in the ghost field was also unfamiliar, more primal and unfettered. The buildings were tombs and every shadowed window and doorway could hide doom. They felt as if they were constantly watched by starving eyes.