Mudmen Addendum

The collective's image of mudmen is created by the potters to both sanitise and barbarise.

"Aren't they silly!"
"Look how primitive they are, wearing sticks and mud!"

Truly, every day we take their soil is another step closer to civilisation. They even come to the city sometimes to offer tribute of clay, to ceremoniously kowtow and offer the rites of their lands. But they're just actors, wandering troubadours covered in cheap imitation mud then sent on their way with a mouth full of silver. Just gypsum and ashes, not the good stuff, too valuable to waste on a ruse. We need neat and tidy masks fast, strong enough to last a day of parades and bowing. Make them look primitive, make them look safe.

The real mudmen are out there. The last survivors of their apocalypse, fighting back the ghosts from their shore.

Concerning Mudmen II: Son of Mudman

A vicious, quiet competitiveness sits in the corner on top of the book case kicking its legs. When one sees what is good and beautiful it pipes up. Push it push it push it, push it 'till it breaks. To its merit it doesn't want to destroy everyone, just beat them. But saying "it could be worse" invites it. Instead one must use the newer chant: "Mouth shut, eyes forward and make the things." Intone it 'till the table vibrates with your powerful AUM.

All this is still true. The following may be true also.

The Mudmen don't call themselves Mudmen, though they do not consider it especially insulting. They are the Tan, they have their own language and culture on the fringe of civilisation.

Their culture is based entirely around hiding from Tolhoth, god of forge fires, who is intent on eliminating them to ensure his victory against all other gods, as foretold by the Oracle of Pellan and explained previously. While covered in the mud of Loch Doldrum they are invisible to him.

Tolhoth only killed most of his followers. As result he only killed most of the gods.

The grey clay they use to cover themselves is the finest clay around. The Potters Guild at the foot of Holy Mountain have made a name and fortune for themselves on the stuff. The mudmen do not like this one bit.

"The flames treat the clay and turn it hard and strong."

The mudmen know they are the only humans left. all others are ghosts, vengeful and jealous that they did not escape the flames. This, combined with the Potters's continued exploitation of them has made them exceedingly hostile to outsiders. Or ghosts, more accurately.

They were once the Tan, who lived beyond the mountains and worshipped all manner of domestic gods. Most of these gods are now dead, victimes of Tolhoth's crusade, but while the mudmen live he cannot finish the job. The mudmen fight for your religious freedom.

One of the gods they consider to have survived the purge bears a remarkable resemblance to Vorn.

The Potters know exactly who and what the mudmen are and have suppressed the knowledge so that they can continue to rob them of their clay. If the church knew they were orthodox worshippers they could possibly be afforded some protection, in as much as any human would, from the depredations of the potters. But they aren't human, they're Mudmen.

The Burrow is what the potters call the Mudmen's city. Burrow is more of an accurate term than city, as it is literally a series of warrens cut into the mountain side and decorated in air dried clay embellishments. The actual name of the city is Great Strenk.

Mudmen are only without their masks when under the mountain. If caught without a mask they will fall into a catatonic coma and consider themselves to be dead. If other mudmen witness this they will agree, they are indeed dead and treated as any other ghost: determinedly ignored at best, attacked at worst.

The potters sponsor adventurers to go into the burrow, claiming it is a dungeon full of treasure. It is indeed full of treasure, and dungeon-like. The mudmen will not stand for anyone entering, they can't let outsiders see their faces.

They leave the burrow to hunt and gather clay for their disguises, returning there at night. If a mudman gets stuck outside they will bury themselves in the muddy shore with reed breathing straws. They cant risk their hats falling off while they sleep and having Tolhoth coming back and stomping them into dust.

Disturbed mudmen, covered in thick mud, pouncing from their partial burial. This is responsible for rumours of them being actually made of mud

Some potters are concerned that the mudmen are right, and tolhoth will destroy the gods is they succeed in driving the mudmen to extinction. They are a small minority, and still mostly content to let all their money console them.

The abuse of the mudman population by the potters is occasionally opposed by other civilised folk. However the potters are rich and maintain the only standing army for leagues around. As "guides" for those extracting the clay.

Ultimately, the mudmen just want to be left alone.

Humourous Henchmen

I have never remembered what a henchman's morale is. Call me heartless, but they all look the same and are never around long enough to care or find the scrap of paper I pretended to write it down on. Besides, if I got attached to every one of them I wouldn't be able to do my job (i.e. killing henchmen).

So, henchman morale checks; or the "does my henchman run off with all my stuff" roll.

When you meet them you roll for what kind of temperament the henchman possesses and you write it down right there where the players track what the poor fellow is hauling around for them. The dominant humours are listed with the roll penalties used on the following tables:

Sanguine -1
Choleric +1
Melancholic 0
Phlegmatic +2

(the traits of each are listed at the end and may help characterise a henchman that no one much cares for)

To use a past example of a henchmen, who bravely took their own life, we would record their name down as follows:

Volrath the Phlegmatic Foreigner

Possibly. Or you could write it down on a scrap of paper and forget about it, much like you traditionally do with their secret morale. Or not use them at all and just roll.




If they are asked to open a suspicious door or otherwise perform dangerous tasks on your behalf in a capacity outside of their job description:

1-2 Happy to be of assistance
3-4 They do it, but if they are harmed by the experience their faith in you will be rattled  (a 1 cumulative malus on all rolls this adventure)
5-6 They refuse


When asked to guard a pile of gold so large that they could run away and start a new life with it:

1 They cut and run
2 They make a secret nest egg. Steal 2d10 coins per pocket! (They do this without the player's knowledge and will not respond well to random checks. They're sociopathic adventurers as well, don't you know)
3-4 They palm a few coins. 2d10 coins or one small easily concealed item.
5-6 Honest and true



If one of their number dies or some other horrifying event occurs in front of them:

1 Run! Run away!
2-3 Frozen for a number of rounds equal to the number rolled
4-6 Business as usual


How much trouble can a wealthy armed killer get into with his downtime? (Roll this at the start of an adventure or some other convenient in-between bit. Minus 1 to this roll for every full 5 points of damage they took in their last outing; they need to let off steam after almost dying in this dead-end job)

1 Lots, roll twice
2 Some, roll once
3-6 None


Roll D44, do not add humour bonus.
11 They got drunk and talkative at the local social club. Every secret you have that they could reasonably know, they've told in great detail to everyone listening. Expect unpleasant surprises.
12 Your pockets are lightened. The henchman has taken their fair share (in their eyes) and skipped town. Leaving with a recently acquired macguffin, perhaps?
13 They join a competing adventuring company who have just moved into the area.
14Their sketchy past catches up with them. 1, they get killed in their sleep 2-6 their old enemy turns up and starts causing trouble.
21 They start their own competing adventuring company
22 They gambled and lost. They are not only now broke, they owe money to the local seedy underbelly. This can not be resolved by just killing a bunch of guys, the mafiosi will sneak into your inn and stab you while you sleep if you get handsy with them.
23 They elope with a local lover. Skip the next game and return with +1 to all rolls for an adventure due to the refreshing break.
24 A man/woman comes forward as your henchman's illegitimate/abandoned child. 3 in 6 chance it's true. They will either want compensation or to follow in their parent's footprints and join you, whichever is most inconvenient or interesting.
31 A fight breaks out, most likely started by the restless henchman. They take 5d8 damage in bar-room shanking damage.
32 They got arrested on counts of: 1-2 Theft 3-4 Assault 5 Murder 6 All of the aforementioned
33 They went on a legendary bender. Drink, drugs, girls, boys, now! Their hang over is of such magnificent beauty that they nurse it all through the next adventure, suffering -2 to every roll involving thinking or moving.
34 They've been recruited into the Potters Guild militia. They're off to Loch Doldrum to fight the Mud Men and take their precious clay. Steady work, good pay.
41 Their wife/husband has come to retrieve their wayward spouse. Deal with it.
42 They dipped their wick in one too many pots. Syphilis! See Undercroft #1 or just make it up.
43 Drunk in a ditch somewhere. Alive but they miss the next adventure as they find their way home. 
44 Caught in a riddling contest with a retired servant of the Manticore. If they pass an intelligence test they win a trinket from the Manticore's old horde (it will be relatively inoffensive) and D1000 XP.

Sanguine
Friendly, Energetic, Forgiving, Confident, Charming, Talkative
Weak-willed, Egotistical, Gullible, Shallow, Disorganized, Self-absorbed


Choleric
Takes the lead, Independent, Hard worker, Strong-willed, Practical, Determined
Cruel, Rebellious, Stubborn, Insensitive, Arrogant, Rude


Melancholic
Thoughtful, Faithful, Self-sacrificing, Analytical, Organized, Practical
Pessimistic, Morose, Vengeful, Insecure, Shy, Jealous


Phlegmatic
Dependable, Patient, Accommodating, Witty, Calm,  Forgiving,
Docile, Indecisive, Lazy, Stubborn, Indifferent, Yielding,

Concerning Mudmen

Mudmen cover themselves with the rich silty mud of Loch Doldrum

Legend has it that the Mudmen of Doldrum once lived in great cities, stone cities full of tall martial men and women who made war with their neighbors on the backs of fearsome Banths, a gift from their new god.

Banth numbers have dwindled due to over hunting. Conservation efforts are ongoing.

No one remembers the names of their cities and the Mudmen won't tell. Each one of them burned down to their foundations, nary an arrangement of rubble even the most optimistic adventurer could call a ruin left. Overnight all their conquests undone by their pragmatic and single-minded god: Tolhoth

Tolhoth, God of Mudmen

 Quite apart from the struggles of his worshipers, he waged war in the realm of the jealous gods, a dimension of unending strife between many gods.

As his earthly following grew, his own victories diminished in glory and reward, eventually leading to a string of stalemates and eventually defeats. He descended to the earth and consulted the Great Oracle of Pellan, whose vision extended throughout all dimensions. She told him that as he was victorious on earth, he would suffer defeat in the sky.

Tolhoth appeared as a fiery giant towering over the tops of mountains, destroying every person and every temple in every city of village where he was venerated. Nothing remained of the nation that had worshiped him, and the neighbors swarmed in to take possession of anything of value that remained.

-Rolang's Creeping Doom

 All except for the Mudmen. Sad and forced to flee from their conflagrating homeland into the cold waves of Loch Doldrum, they waited. Tolhoth saw them rise from the banks as the fires died and the cities crackled and popped. Covered in mud and hunched over from the crippling cold he thought they were restless spirits, quite understandably perturbed by his rending of the lands, and ignored them.

Still he fights his war, never quite victorious, never achieving his total monotheist dominion in the sky. We could speculate that he now doubts the words of the Oracle of Pellan, maybe even that he regrets losing one kingdom without gaining another, but it's unwise to speculate on the minds of Gods. The Mudmen certainly don't.

Loch Doldrum: big, deep, cold. Considered to be neither use nor ornament by everyone except the "Elite Brotherhood of the Potters of Gaxen Kane" who owe their success to the fine white mud that lines its shores.

Today the Mudmen are found primarily on the shores of Loch Doldrum and along its contributory creeks and rivers, never too far from their mud lest Tolhoth spies them and comes back to finish the job and finally win his war in the sky. In their minds the very survival of the physical world relies on that mud and who are we to argue?

A Mudman war party on the look out for careless Potters.

Their more traditionally civilized neighbors consider this superstition a great convenience as the Mudmen have lost none of their martial spirit and would undoubtedly cause all sorts of mischief were they to wander freely along the Spine or, worse yet, peddle their superior crockery in the markets of Gaxen Kane.

 As it stands their only regular contact with foreigners is through the Elite Brotherhood of the Potters of Gaxen Kane who regularly send well armed expeditions to collect the eponymous mud, and almost equally often don't return with a full compliment of staff. These dealings go some way to explain the Mudmen's reputation as marauders and cannibals, but since the white mud commands such respect in their trade the Potters are resigned to its cost.