What Stirs

These are the reason for the lack of posts as of late. More are in production. They'll be in a booklet-thing. The project continues. Words are both myself and Alex, design is Alex, and the art is public domain. Images after the break due to breaking the layout.

Meat And Machine

Just some fiction.

Carcosa Calling

Pretty atmospheric.

(We're talking about King in Yellow Carcosa here. Can't speak for the supplement, too poor for books.)

d8	How does it call to me?
1	The alien susurrations of strange winds ‘tween stranger peaks.
2	Everything becomes reflective, but these reflections are all of the same place.
3	It floats, grinds, looms in the sky, always. It is not there, but you see the shadow cast large across the land.
4	Intense homesickness. Oh, to be home, to be where you belong, sweet city.
5	That sweet smell of Lake Hali, that hateful smell, that long lost smell.
6	The itch under the fingertips. You know what it means. It happens again.
7	You know every door leads there, but they flee. Oh, to be disappointed again would hurt so.
8	You can see your script. Play your role well, and look not at the audience.

A Hungry Empire

It is known that a plague was visited upon the multitudes, wiping out almost all of the coastal peoples. A people with great respect for the dead, the plague victims were honoured with burials in grand necropolises and tombs. And then the hunger woke the dead.

The necropolises were struck open, the tombs defiled to release more of their brethren. Not mindless, but so very, very hungry, the ghouls finished off their erstwhile countrymen. And so life in the empire was forgotten, and the dead looked further afield for their sustenance.

Ships of many nations sail forth from the blasted capital, wherein lurk untold numbers of the dead citizens. Many a slaving run ends here, dropping off unsellable slaves for the larder. For the truly jaded, a night on the Necropolis promises an unforgettable, haunting experience.

The Mariner-Ghouls are knowledgeable, lacking the failings of mortal sailors, but also deathly afraid of the water – for the older ones would disintegrate if left to soak. The sail wide and commit piracy of the flesh.

d8	Barter for Flesh-Trade
1	Coins of ancient mint, carried from their original burial site.
2	A Waiver of Consumption, granting immunity from flesh-piracy.
3	2 weeks employment of Ghoul Scouts, knowledge in tracking and hunting sentient life.
4	Many Desert-Wines – it no longer parches their thirsts.
5	Cruel bone-nets, perfect for the man-hunt.
6	Contemporary maps of the coast. Only settlements and land-water boundaries are marked.
7	Ancient maps of the coast. The landscape is described poetically.
8	Very generous amounts of rations of all kinds. Invariably looted.

Hunted by a Freak

Very short fiction, not gameable. Written on a train journey.