A classic biplane, if by classic you mean made of magical mangrove roots and steam-shooting gemstones.
Art above from the Crios RPG
As I have been working hard on the final little tweaks and edits for LIGAMENTS’ upcoming revision (coming very soon), my sleep schedule has gotten pretty wacky. This, as it usually does, led me down a strange mental rabbit-hole. Enjoy the fruits of my turmoil, and please keep an eye out for some exciting news.
As always, the rules for this post were written with LIGAMENTS in mind.
A biplane made of Saltwick root and quality Winsburg-made cloth. Its eight spider-like legs seem to gallop through the air as it flies, like a Strandbeest, with the wind under-wing providing momentum. They offer a good (enough) pace for take off and landing, without the need for wheels, runways, or general airline infrastructure. I mean who has time for that anyway, right?
Like it says above, the bulk of the plane is made of extremely lightweight and durable driftwood that breaks off mangrove trees, called Saltwick. They float offshore into the southern gulf and continue to grow into wide ovular nets of natural root and branch, feeding off the critters that get caught inside. Because of this, natural Saltwick has rings of white inside showing its growth over the years, but also small bones, scales and feathers trapped forever under its gnarled flesh. With some sturdy cloth, the body of the plane is flexible, yet rigid.
The front propeller boasts a gorgeous (and valuable) sunstone. Cut into the apple-sized gemstone are whirling grooves which mesh to Immutable Bronze gears. Due to its odd makeup, the sunstone can act as a natural steam engine. One need only soak it in a gallon of water for 24 hours, then expose it to light for ten minutes. The microscopic and labyrinthine pores in the stone fill with water, then its absorbing of the sun super-heats the thin bands of water leading to a continuous steam reaction. The sunstone’s exposed tip has a velvet lined leather cap to cover it, so one can decide exactly when to begin the solar influence.
The strange engine propels The Endeavor for up to six hours. With a lever in the cockpit to shift gears, the sunstone’s constant RPM is geared up or down for minor alterations in landing, cruising, or take-off. While there is room for a pilot, a passenger, and a backwards “gunner”, the plane has the lift for 20 slots of weight total. It also moves at 120 mph, and has +2 to gambits involving spinning (that’s a good trick, after all), but -2 at gambits involving gaining back control when something goes wrong.
The Seven of Spades
Nestled under the seat, made of a single beautiful branch of Widowmaker, is a gunstock. Across the top of the gunstock are seven doves burned into the wood, each with a spade incorporated into their designs. (Beak, breast, talon, eye, etc.)
One may find this lone wooden furniture strange, but any of you familiar with the AR-7 may have your interest piqued.
“I wonder…”
With a shimmy and a “Pop!”, the back of the stock can be slid off. Inside you’ll find a waxed cloth bundle containing heavy ammo (1d6 UD), and the various iron fittings (barrel, receiver, magazine) needed to complete the gun that the stock goes to. It takes two move actions to assemble the weapon, and then you have yourself a five-shot heavy firearm.
The Seven of Spades cannot use a bayonet like most heavy firearms, but it does allow one to store up to two spells inside as a Light Magical Foci. The spells cannot be cast from the gun unless in its assembled form. Also, as with all items made of Widowmaker wood, fresh blood rubbed on the gunstock will activate a glowing silver light that illuminates up to 20ft away and does not interfere with infravision.
The characters are hired by the standards council of a village called Goodstock, to figure out why the fuck so many giant bugs are walking around town in nice clothes, scaring locals, and attempting to pay for goods with various sizes of keratin disk.
(Based on three pieces of art given to me in a challenge by SunderedWorldDM, in 2022. Better late than never I suppose? Uses LIGAMENTS for rules, but any GLOGhack will most likely do)
Truly unknowable, is the blackness of space. A wild horizon the likes of which most beings never travel. Blazing through the stardust is a being of immense proportions, diet, and age. Axclactimo, the Dragon of Event Horizons. A living black hole, whose wings span a galaxy, and whose mouth consumes even light and sound itself.
But with feasting on matter of any kind, there is no destruction, only transformation. As Axclactimo struck the midway point of his millennia-long feast, he did what any beast in space does before traveling at faster-than-light speeds. He evacuated his waste, such as it was, a cold, and calcified hunk of dead matter, struck through with the remains of his would-be foes. Foes, which include the Astrosphinx, Visceralia.
And so it was, that a comet with mesmerizing trails of glimmering blue and violet slashed a paint line across the skies, landing in the peaks of season-less mountains, never shifting from the fall.
Embedded within this comet, was a hunk of crystal the size of a human head, the heart of Visceralia herself. Already beginning to keen and bristle with noise, the heart called to the first flies descending upon the monumental rock of frozen shit.
That, unlikely enough, is where our story began…
The Hook
There are a few ways that your party can be dragged into this adventure, but the primary way is thus;
The characters are hired by the standards council of a village called Goodstock, to figure out why the fuck so many giant bugs are walking around town in nice clothes, scaring locals, and attempting to pay for goods with various sizes of keratin disk (shaped like a hockey-puck sized snail’s shell, but without the opening). They seem to be coming to town from all over, but most are heading to Bittertip, a mountain to the west. If the characters can convince the bugs to stop, by one means or another (they never quite say the word “kill”), they would be granted a modest home in town.
If the party refuses or haggles the reward, the would-be HOA offers a new reward of 2,000 gold, nearly half the worth of the property. (They leave out the fact that the reward won’t be in gold pieces, but in an assembled collection of copper coins, art from a local artist, and way too many crops supplied by a few farmers.)
In reality, there is no solution to the problem. The huge hunk of phlogiston-originating feces broke up in atmosphere, and bugs (and shit eaters) everywhere are gaining sentience (or a couple more brain cells), and growing to people size. But the bulk of the bugs are heading to the manor, so if the parties stop, so will the parade. So to speak.
Bittertip Encounters
Before the party arrives at the manor, roll 1 or 2 encounters on the table below depending on the time you have. All encounters are set on the steep, and heavily forested, mountainside. (1d6 x 10ft distance away, flip a coin to see who has the higher ground.)
Bugabaloo: Two halflings, a dwarf, and a human woman have heard of the strange aristocratic bug people, and sought to make some money by forming a bug band, called Bugabaloo. Looking to hire themselves to the bugs as entertainment, they’re decked out in goofy hand-made bug costumes and have instruments in various states of disrepair. The dwarf is clearly the one who came up with the idea, the other three took some convincing. (If the group is told that the bugs pay in worthless keratin disks, they give up, tossing their instruments and costumes aside.)
Mantis Pilgrim: A gentle, 7ft long mantis with a kind soul. Unintentionally terrifying in everything he does, due to the big knife hands and wild eyes. Wears long silken robes, and speaks of “Everprayer”, his mentor. He’s on his way to the event, and when pressed which event, is good-natured about declaring he shouldn’t say. (Does not get upset with the player characters if they choose to follow him.)
Dung Family Robinson: A family of squat, 2ft tall dung-beetle folk, lost in the woods. They’re here for the event, to see their uncle “Gub”, who works as a cook at the Acre-Caca manor. Two parents, and twelve children. One of the parents has a mustache and wears overalls, the other wears a long cloak and keeps huffing about the map they should have brought. Irritable, and not altogether happy to chat, though the kids are sweet, wearing little colored newsboy caps. (If the group attempts to solve their marriage issues, a messy divorce and division of their dozen children ensues, taking entirely too much time.)
Around the area in 80 days: A fat, 1.5ft tall horsefly wearing a bomber jacket and large goggles zooms through, before stopping to chat with the party. Attempts to keep conversation up long after the characters lose interest, bragging about his “journey around the world”. (When pressed or questioned, it becomes clear that he’s explored a 20-mile diameter area, thinking that the local rivers were in fact the ocean, and thus, the end of the world.)
Puppetmaster: An elderly spider walks along, wearing fragile spectacles, a small boy by their side. Only, the small boy seems to be moving quite jerkily, and it becomes clear fairly quick that he is a lifelike puppet. The elderly spider is a puppetmaker, and is hoping to do a puppet show at the event later. He’s dressed with a leather apron, filled with various chisels and sanding tools. (If a character asks about buying a puppet, the elderly spider reacts as a normal person would if somebody asked to buy their children.)
Fragment: The party comes across a fragment of the comet, a dried brown hunk of waste. It looks like a large dirt clod, but a dwarf or gnome would know quickly that it is indeed the excrement of a huge creature, noting that it broke off a much larger piece. (If, for whatever reason, a character eats or consumes the waste, their intelligence is increased 1d4 + 1, but their alignment is shifted towards evil.)
The Manor
A massive chunk of dried shit, sitting in a squat crater. To the unassuming, it is a large clod of dirt, or maybe a sedimentary rock. But to a connoisseur of the fly’s diet, it is a feast being used as a home. Lights from candles inside flicker out into the dimming sunlight.
(E) Entry
All sorts of fancy bugs lined up to get in. Each with a small bag of keratin discs and excited chatter. (If your party didn’t encounter any or most of the people in the encounters table, use them here.)
Twin 5ft stag beetle guards, with sturdy chitin carved into knight-style armor. They’re not allowed to let anyone who isn’t a bug in, and the fee is five discs. (This is a puzzle, not a chance to get one over on your players. Let their creativity shine, and reward the silly and fun. If they try to fight, the Beetle Boys tag team them, and aren’t merciful.)
Beetle Boys
HD: 2 Armor: As plate Move: 20ft Morale: 10 (test only when one beetle boy is knocked out or slain) Attacks: Horn (1d6), or Claw (1d4). Charge:If a beetle boy moves their whole speed before attacking with their horn, they deal 2d6 damage instead. Treasure: A silver necklace shaped like half a heart, worth 30sp. When both are connected, they read “Beetle Boys 4 Life”.
(Cross): Sitting Room
An area of beautifully carved wooden furniture, a candle-laden chandelier, and a coat-check counter on the southwest wall. Sounds of chatter and music can be heard from a hallway to the south.
Elderly bugs sit and rest from the travel, a few mosquito waiters stride around, dressed in servants garb, offering glasses of mead, blood, and water.
A 3ft x 6ft painting on the north wall depicts a fly dressed like Napoleon, and is an exact recreation of The Emperor Napoleon in His Study at the Tuileries, 1812 by Jacques-Louis David. It’s worth 500gp to any art weirdo. (behind the painting is a secret entry to, fittingly, the secret chamber)
(Wheel): Ballroom
The core room of the manor, this pentagonal area is mostly dancefloor, with several jitterbugs getting down and dirty. Music pours in from the hall to the northeast, chatter can be heard from the sitting room to the north, polite and quiet conversation is barely heard to the southeast, and quiet comes from the doors at the southwest.
The bar is shockingly stocked, with all sorts of strange liquors, spirits, and beers from across the world. Representation of several species of the setting, as well as stranger brews, like alcohol with snakes in it. The bartender is Scorpio, a scorpion with a bowtie, buttoned shirt, and combed back hair. After preparing a drink, asks if the patron wants it “with a little spice”. If you say yes, he injects a tiny bit of his venom into the drink. It doesn’t make it any tastier, but it does burn a lot. If you tip him, he’ll make sure you’re topped up all night.
Sitting at the bar, never once leaving, is an extremely wasted cockroach named Ricky (Ricky the Roach). He’s muttering about sphinx’s, but never once calls them the right name. (Skinks, stinks, blinks, lynx, winks, kinks) Should the group ask him about it, he’ll challenge them to a drinking contest. If he loses, he’ll say he overheard Lord Napoolio and Everprayer talking about it, how they need to seek out “new and unique entertainment for their sphinx guest”.
Should any fighting occur on or around the dance floor, the bartender cuts in to break it up.
Scorpio
HD: 5 Armor: As chain Move: 35ft Morale: 6 (he’s working for tips for crying out loud) Attacks: 2x Claws (1d6) or Stinger (1d8 Poison damage). Treasure: 3d6 x 10 keratin disks, 2d20 gold coins, and a really slick bowtie.
(Candlestick): Art Gallery
A medley of exhibits fill the chamber and overflow onto twin balconies that overlook the woods.
Examples of art in the main chamber include a huge shadowbox containing a pinned family of farmers, a clockwork ladybug that plays music, a spider painting terracotta tiles with caricatures of party guests, and a brilliant amber sword crafted over years by a slug-folk who lazily blurbles nearby, answering questions with a so-slow-its-not-that-funny-but-becomes-funny-after-a-long-long-time pace. (The sword is a three-word sword called POURED WINTER MOLASSES, and it causes any hit by it who fail a save to age, act, and speak 1/10th as fast as usual. Repeat save after 80-hour rest.)
Meandering around the gallery is Everprayer of The Cabal. They will be very polite and quiet with any who speak with them, asking opinions about the art. If they take a liking to a particular player character, they may challenge them to a game of riddles. If asked a nonsense riddle, Everyprayer will test to see if they realize it’s nonsense, or be stuck in a self-doubting loop of uncertainty and patience, stuck trying to solve the riddle. If this happens, they won’t be present during any encounters with the cabal.
(B1): East Balcony
Scattered around the balcony are statues of The Cabal’s members. Written into the plinth under each is a quote by said member, with a sneaky clue as to how one could defeat them. – Napoolio: “The clothes make the bug.” – Dipsytera: “Cataracts can’t stop me!” – Everprayer: “No riddle is too complex for patience.” – Sir Undershell: “Who said they could eat more than me? I’ll eat them!” – Princessssss Fuzzworth: “I told you to stop sneaking up on me! I don’t care if I have to answer this stupid statue question, you could kill somebody by doing that!”
(B2): South Balcony
On the 2nd balcony are two cockroaches who perform terrible improv comedy with the excitement of two cockroaches who can perform great improv comedy. If folks try to leave after they’ve started, they’ll guilt them asking for tips. (String together the saddest possible story for two cockroaches whose parents don’t love them.)
(Treble): Auditorium
Several-plus chairs haphazardly arranged to view the stage, where an ant jug band plays a quick jig. Folks sip drinks and enjoy truly nasty horderves.
Happening midway through the party, a talent show begins. It is announced that the winner will earn a “royal reward”. The jug band retires backstage, and a cavalcade of entertainers arrive. A worm magician, flea acrobats, and even the Bugabaloo band and elderly spider that the group could encounter on the way up. The players should be encouraged to show off their talents, as a group or otherwise.
Judging the competition is Princessssss Fuzzworth. She is not shy about how unimpressed the acts have her, despite how good they really are, and hints at wanting to be “blown away”. A talent with a truly shocking twist, reveal, or surprise will cause her little heart to give out. If she faints in this way, she will not be present during any encounters with the Cabal.
The winner of the talent show is presented with an uncovered palanquin, brought to the ballroom to be celebrated, and then brought into the secret chamber.
(Boat): Dining Hall
The smell in this room causes non-bugs to test luck or just immediately upchuck, unless their career included terrible smells. Particularly sensitive characters may pass out, but this is at the whim of the gamemaster.
A crooked oaken canoe has been set up in the center of the room, with dozens of creatures feasting all around it. Carried within are piles of rotting fruit, pungeant raw meat, and balls of perfectly spherical and fresh dung. All are rolled in by a series of short, black beetles in strangely clean white chef’s garb.
Sir Undershell sits at the head of the boat-table, feasting and slurping up anything nearby. Including a couple unlucky maggot-folk knight-hopefuls. If defeated in a battle of stomachs, he will not be present during any encounters with the Cabal.
(Heart): Throne Room
Lord Napoolio and Dipsytera sit in twin thrones assembled from carved blocks of Coprolite. Before them are carpets of red-dyed yak hair, and the room is lit by six braziers burning with pungent Ambergris. Violet curtains of spider-silk flank the pair, all across the walls.
Bugfolk from all over wait in line to bow, kiss the feet of, and thank the lord and his elderly mother. Napoolio refuses to touch anyone, using a handkerchief-covered hand to interact. Dipsytera has trouble recognizing anyone unless they are directly in front of her, due to her advanced age and cateract-affected eyes. If Napoolio’s clothing is dirtied, he is furious, and spends a turn cleaning his duds before striking out at the filthy vagrant who caused him to expend effort.
There is a small chance that other members of The Cabal are here, milling about. Usually this is if their private encounters in other rooms have been handled, but without them being knocked out of the plot.
The Cabal
While The Cabal are the villains of this story, I really didn’t want this section to be five big scary stat blocks, especially with the end of this adventure having a big scary stat block. So each has class levels instead.
Play around with it, feel free to get a little freaky with the numbers and abilities. I care more that they come off as rich shit-eating bug people, with a really ridiculous plan.
Lord Napoolio (2nd level Expert): Fly in fancy Napoleonic inspired duds. Excellent with a saber. Very hard to pin down (in conversation, or battle). He thinks he’s the cock of the walk, the literal shit, but in reality he’s a momma’s boy playing with his friends at being people, all fueled by creating money, giving a bit out to the people, and hoarding most of it for themselves.
Dipsytera (4th level Wizard): An ancient Fly (3 weeks old!). One of her wings is kinked, the other rests over her left side like a cloak. A few segments of her multifaceted eyes have opaqued from cateracts. She uses a cane carved from the Astrosphinx’s femur to animate strange beings from the digested remains in the manor’s walls. She’s sweet to her son Napoolio, but thinks the rest of the cabal are morons. She isn’t really wrong.
Everprayer (3rd level Fighter): A Praying Mantis woman in yellow shaolin warrior robes and a veil. Intense gaze which stuns her opponents. Her respect for the party is entirely dependent on how smart and respectful they are. None of this is personal, it’s merely a means to an end, Everprayer wants to hear what the Astrosphinx has to say. She isn’t gonna like it.
Sir Undershell (2nd level Fighter): A Rhino Beetle man with a hefty, steel-reinforced shell, a massive axe (held with all four hands!), and spiked feet which clamp to the ground to anyone from moving him. He’s a battle-loving glutton, like all great warriors, but he lacks the nobility or respect one would like in a knight.
Princessssss Fuzzworth (2nd level Wizard): A smol bee woman with a fluffy golden dress and an enormous temper. Secretes a charming pollen dust like orange snow which bends others to her will. Her royal scepter is a honey dipper that causes any liquid it is dipped into to become sticky, sweet, and sentient. Anything that comes out of her mouth is sickly sweet, and annoying as all get out.
(Pentagram): Secret Chamber
Embedded in the wall is the half melted corpse of Visceralia herself. Her squared antlers twist and wind up the side and through the walls forming a maze-like pattern. Exposed through her exposed skeleton is her crystalline heart, which pulsates a lazy dark purple, with occasional hot flashes of scarlet (especially when it talks to Dipsytera and The Cabal.)
Before the body is a 10ft long by 5ft wide snails shell. Dripping along it’s sides are the oozing tar-like remains of blood from many a fancy bug.
The winner(s) of the talent contest are roped above the shell and drained of blood into it. The crystalline heart in the wall commands The Cabal to dunk it into the blood, resurrecting Visceralia once more. The Astrosphinx will go ham on everyone nearby and raise Acre-Caca Manor as a flying lair, shifting its dung tunnels into a keratin-reinforced maze, manipulating the disks into golems, spiked walls, and stalagmites/stalactites. The Sphinx can even detach chunks of her own horns at will, allowing them to telepathically orbit her and unfurl into horns for trumpeting or stabbing.
Alternatively, any death of suitable intelligence, talent, or otherwise interest to Visceralia’s heart will do for the sacrifice.
Visceralia, the Astrosphinx reborn
HD: 10 Armor: As chain, 50% chance spells fizzle out on contact Move: 30ft, 40ft Fly Morale: 12 Attacks: 2x Claw (2d6), or charge/fire/restore Lightning Eyes Treasure: Crystal Heart (don’t dunk it in the blood of artists, or you’ll be doing this all over again)
Roar: In lieu of an attack, the Astrosphinx rends the air itself with a deep lioness’s roar. Anyone who hears it must test luck or flee. Hirelings and Animals roll morale with disadvantage.
Mad Murmers: Anyone within 10ft of the Astrosphinx can hear it’s unhealthily stupid riddles, breaking concentration and being unable to speak out loud. (Riddles like: “What is the speed of blue?”, “How loud is down?”, etc.)
Lightning Eyes: The first time this ability is used, the Astrosphinx’s violet-glowing eye sockets burn with gold.
The second time, a blast of lightning hits a creature within 30ft, then splits off to strike three more 30ft away from them. All affected creatures take 10d6 lightning damage, testing luck for half. The Astrosphinx is then blinded.
The third time, the sockets return to their violet glow as the Astrosphinx’s sight returns, and the cycle may begin again.
A Sense of Immersion 