Angmairre, City of Sailors and Whores

**Mild Spoilers Sunday Game**

The kingdom has no knights, only sea captains. All nobles must serve as a captain on at least one sea-voyage to keep their hereditary titles.

Within the Palace of Splinters, a looming structure built of captured enemy ships, sits the weak King Telwar Liq, a puppet to his warmongering wife, Celine Liq. The agitates for war against the Nilfenbergians. The court, thus far, have kept her in check. All assassination attempts have failed, miserably. She takes each attempt as proof of Nilfenbergian aggression.

During the day, the city is thronged with porters and traders, hawking exotic wares of all types, the ale houses filled with sailors on shore leave. At night, the sailors have had their fill of drink, and partake in brawling or prostitutes. They are famed for their skills, and a sea-captain is wise to give extended shore-leave here. The slave markets of Angmairre are huge, and it is the only place on the continent where slavery is legal.

1d8 Encounters in Angmairre

1 - 1d4 Runaway Slaves, 50% chance perused hotly. Keeping them would be theft, but grant you loyal companions. (60% level 1 fighter, else level 1 specialist with randomly distributed skills)

2 - A huge brawl between sailors, d20 a side. They're all laughing and complimenting one another on good technique. Drawing weapons is a sure way to get killed.

3 - 1d6 Sailors acting as a press gang. They'll ignore people they don't think they could bludgeon into submission.

4 - A Nilfenbergian witch-refugee, unable to join the College without a reference, but unable to ply her trade without membership papers. She seeks a group to travel with. 1d4th Level MU.

5 - 1d6 Nobles dressed up gaudily as nautical beasts, en route to a party, surrounded with 2d4 guards.

6 - 1d4 Druids, infiltrating the city to destroy it from the inside. They are usually rooted out and destroyed by the College within a week. They keep trying anyway.

7 -  Nilfenbergian spies, posing as merchants. No war is planned, as they are engaged against the Demon Sultanate, but it pays to keep an eye on the last remaining free kingdom on the continent.

8 - Adventurers! Here for 1) a job 2) looking for work 3) R&R 4) you.

If an adventurer stays in one of the more lavish establishments whilst still bearing their arms and the general demeanor of a ruffian, they are inevitably approached with work. 

1d8 Jobs From Nobility & Pay

1 - Slander an opposing house. Use your imagination. 500sp+

2 - Sink a ship. This could be a rival house or someone else in the family. 1000sp+

3 - Ruin a political marriage by causing one of the betrothed to fall in love and marry someone else. 1000sp+

4 - Apply pressure to a house wizard of the College to turn traitor to the family they currently serve. 750sp+

5 - Collect monster eggs to build a menagerie to rival any other. Price is per-egg, going up for more dangerous/rare creatures.

6 - Murder the current heir. 1500sp+

7 - Burn down the holdings of a rival. 300sp+

8 - Find something to greatly embarrass a rival in court without destroying their reputation. 750sp+

Treasures Locked Beneath Ash and Snow

**GO AWAY SUNDAY PLAYERS**

BAUBLES OF THE SLAVES

x Precious Metal Molars - what wealth was left was hidden in the back of mouth. 2d20 sp each.

x Hands of the Matriarchs - a mothers blessing kept secret and safe for bleak times. By the time they were opened, it was far too late. Snapping off a finger casts a spell at 3rd level. Worth 5000sp, -1000 per used digit.
  Thumb - Cure Light Wounds
  Index Finger - Magic Missile
  Middle Finger - Bless
  Ring Finger - Dispel Magic
  Little Finger - Sleep

x Fingerbone Lockpicks - single use but incredibly easy to hide. +1 bonus to checks with these picks. 20sp each.

x Curried Meats - frozen fresh, still good to eat if defrosted. 1sp each, 1000sp to a trained chef due to lost techniques which could be learned.

x Dead Idols - The many gods of the enslaved peoples, all dead and forgotten. The ire of these dead gods lingers still, and each has a curse associated with it. Worth 400sp in precious materials, 1000sp to a historian.

d8	Ire of a Dead, Forgotten God
1	Weakened spirits of vengeance, still bound to empty duty, will attack the holder each night until the statue is given away. HD 2 / AC AS CHAIN / ATTACK +1 1D8 CLAWING / MOV as DOG / M12 / 3D4 APPEARING
2	The idol draws away all sustenance from food, starving the bearer until the statue is given away.
3	The idol compels the bearer to sacrifice either 200sp or 1HD of life every three days until given away.
4	The idol assaults the bearer with hideous nightmares every night, denying them healing from sleep, and stopping magic users preparing spells, until given away. -2 penalty to all rolls after a week of this.
5	All animals will hate the bearer until the statue is given away, with a 2-in-6 chance of attacking, or else simply running away.
6	The bearer is inflicted with leprosy until the statue is given away. The leprosy will be healed overnight.
7	The user must respond to all violence with pacifism, and all offers of peace with violence until the statue is given away.
8	There is no curse. This god has faded more than the others.

WEALTH OF THE CITY

x Overseers Eyes - Eyes of ancient overseers, given to slave-holding families. The eyes are a reminder of authority, and can be used to command slave-derived creatures if they fail a save vs magic. Worth nothing outside of the city.

x Desperation Furs - As the terrible fury of the Riven Wolf fell upon the city, the clothiers and tailors desperately tried to create winter clothes for the people as they burned all books and papers to stay warm. This desperation sunk into the furs themselves, and they reek of fear. Avoid any natural cold-based damage, halve damage from cold-based magical sources, but roll random encounters twice as often. Predators can smell the weakness. 200sp each.

x Forgotten Saints - The people of the city would not burn their Saints to keep warm, but they were forgotten, bedecked in gold and bone-dry in their sealed chambers. Each will defend itself, although it has long forgotten it's name and it's martyrdom. Worth 3000sp -200sp per point of damage over HP dealt, HD 6 / AC AS PLATE / ATTACK +3 AS WEAPON +3 / MOV AS MAN / M12 / 1 APPEARING

x Crown of the Senator - Each week, this crown passed from one senator to a chosen rival, bestowing authority and benevolence upon the wearer. (Save to take malicious action, others must save to not agree with you. Must be worn for a week.) Worth 4500sp.

Beyond the Mountains

*Sunday Players Go Away*

Across the Northern border of the Nilfenbergian Empire lies the Petty Kingdoms - each run by a self-styled autocrat, all too aware of their insignificance. It is said the witches have saved them from being absorbed. The truth is the Empire is under threat from the Demon Sultanate. But this is of little interest. The Petty Kingdoms end abruptly with the Mountains. Some call them the Brokejaws. Others the Spinal Peaks. Yet others the Marginal Range. But to most, they are simply the Mountains.

Some small villages lurk in the shadows of these imposing peaks - folk scraping by in the crags and fearful of the creatures that crawl from chasms in the deeper ranges. They have little to trade but furs and warnings.

Beyond the Mountains is ash and ice. A desolate terrible plain, marred only by the broken teeth of buildings long-hidden by the ice and snow, appearing more like dunes after the many years of frostbitten burial.

People once lived in these buildings, but now they live above them, grim scavengers atop their dog-driven sledges, tearing across the dead country, either starving or committing to cannibalism. They know not of the secrets buried beneath them, but whisper to their rare children that things forgotten should stay that way. None will enter the ice-bound city beneath them, and they are right to.

A name forgotten a thousand times, no expedition ever returning to restore the torch of knowledge, the city evoked it's own end, as such things always go. A people enslaved by another, joint in a collective plea for revenge - and so it was when the Riven Wolf heard their plight. The plain was blasted for six hundred days with storms and snow, the wind tearing skin free and stealing children into the sky, their screams lost in the howling, their tears freezing in their eyes, tumbling blind through snow thicker than castles.

Seeking a weapon here is madness - all that could be learned is an end to both the Empire and the Sultanate. Yet the expedition left, and is now sealed in the glacier-riddled city with the creeping horrors.

*TREASURE HERE*

SURVIVOR PACK - 4d4 Humans w/ Spears, Dog-Leather Armour. They fight from the back of Dog Driven Sleds (treat as mounted). Each sled has a team of 6 dogs, and can have 3 men fighting and a fourth driving.

FROST MAD DEAD
The people of the city gathered together to conserve warthm - from each cluster emerged one frozen by the cursed flesh of their peers, forever seeking warmth.
HD 4
AC as CHAIN - HARD FROZEN FLESH
MOV as OLD MAN
ATTACK +4 - 2D8 ICY GRIP (8+ damage freezes random limb - cannot be used until thawed out).
M 7 / 12 IN PRESENCE OF FIRE. OH TO BE WARM AGAIN.
2d6 APPEARING

CHAINED OVERSEER
Before the slaves realised what they had invited, they rose up and bound the overseers in chain. The numbing effect of the chains protected them from the blasting to come.
HD 6
AC as PLATE - MANY CHAINS - MAGIC IS ROUTED INTO CHAINS, HAS NO EFFECT IN 30FT RADIUS
MOV as MAN BEARING GREAT WEIGHT
ATTACK +6 - 2D4 WHIP + SAVE VS ENTANGLE - TAKE NO ACTION UNTIL CHAIN BROKEN. EACH ENTANGLED PERSON REDUCES AC OF OVERSEER BY 1.
M 10 / 3 IN PRESENCE OF SLAVES (That is, anyone dressed in rags)
1D4 APPEARING

SLAVE SPIRIT CONGLOMERATION
So too did the slaves gather for warmth in their rags and chains. They pressed closer and closer until their very souls touched, fusing them together in anguish and fear and regret. The only thing that could drive the result away is the whip of their tormentors.
HD 1
AC as INSUBSTANTIAL - CANNOT BE HARMED WITH PHYSICAL WEAPONS. (Except Whip)
MOV as CRIPPLED HORSE
ATTACK +0 (IGNORES ARMOUR) - SAVE OR 1D8 CON DAMAGE FROM UNEARTHLY COLD.
M 2
1d4 APPEARING

Crested Mercenaries, Dogs of War

They wear their taint with pride, hiding not their fur nor horns nor feathers. They are known best for their mercenary wanderings, serving well among any company - given a monetary incentive. They enjoy all the vices of men, especially on campaign, and are generally found to be hospitable to those willing stay in their midst. Though obviously abominations, Inquisitors cannot help but note how much like good folk they are.

Crested Soldiers fight as first level fighters, equipped appropriate to their role in battle. They have morale 11 unless noted otherwise.

d8	The warband is led by...
1	Red Alexander - A Feathered One not taking after a bird of prey, Red Alexander was forced to earn his moniker and the respect of his men in several bloody campaigns against rival warbands. This done, he has flourished and is noted for his well-planned and executed strategies. His last employment was for the House of Ulster, driving out the Witch-men from the forests. The head of the Witch-men chieftain still screams from the warbands standard. Red Alexander - 4th Level Fighter, 30HP, Chain, Longsword. Chieftain’s Head - Once per day, this head can scream a curse, causing an effect similar to Fear as cast by a fifth level MU. Worth 4000sp. Fifty Swordsmen-in-Chain, Thirty Crossbowmen, Ten Mounted Skirmisher-Scouts. 7000sp per month.
2	Dmitri of the Seven - Dmitri bears the horns common to the Hounds, although eight horns is far above the normal two, marking one out for great success. One of these horns was destroyed fighting Western barbarians. Dmitri is accompanied at all times by his Shaman-Chronicler, Blesitus, who is learned in the traditional religion of the Crested Soldiers. He also knows when to lie, whispering to Dmitri of the Seven Horned Hound Prophecy. Dmitri’s band has not had employment for some time, emerging from the Brokejaw mountains after a significant absence. Dmitri is donned in archaic armour, previously unseen, and the warband is diminished. Dmitri of the Seven - 7th Level Fighter, 50HP, Regal Gambit, Greatsword. Blesitus, Shaman-Chronicler, 4th Level MU, 16HP, Leather, Knife. Has access to all level appropriate spells. Regal Gambit - This armour appears as intricate plate, but is infact entirely glamour, offering no protection. To be able to strike the wearer, the attacker must save vs magic or else throw down arms. Worth 7000sp Twenty-Seven Swordsmen-in-Chain, Ten Archers, Seven Spearmen-in-Chain. 4000sp per month until they recoup losses.
3	Gallows Darren - Darren is a small, quiet Hound, bearing no horns nor a muscular stature. The loyalty and precision of his forces betrays what must be a truly horrific training regimen, the men utterly broken to his commands. They are often used on special tasks requiring small numbers and discretion, something the unit is perfectly capable of. Darren is never seen fighting, nor commanding his troops directly - they simply step to on their own initiative. They were last spotted touring battlefields where their brothers had fallen. Gallows Darren - 5th Level Magic User, 22HP, Leather, Blankrod. Has access to all appropriate spells. Blankrod - This polished ivory rod is about half-covered in tiny carvings, which seem to shift. Close examination reveals them to be entire levels, recorded in miniscule script. Each life recorded here corresponds to one of the fleshy automatons in Darren’s band. Breaking the rod releases them, killing Darren does not. Worth 10000sp. One hundred Swordsmen-in-Chain, Thirty Archers, Twenty Spearmen-in-Chain, Twenty Armoured Horsemen. 10000sp per month.
4	Julian - Julian is a haughty Feathered One, clearly hawk-headed. He is justifiably proud of the achievements the warband has accrued under his leadership, although some mutter his officers are more than a little unacknowledged for their parts. The top three officers are planning to have Julian tragically, accidentally killed during their next assignment as revenge for this glory-hounding. They most recently pulled off a fantastic ambush against a unit of knights errant. Julian - 2nd Level Fighter, 16HP, Chain, Halberd. Seventy Swordsmen-in-Chain, Twenty Archers, Twenty Spearmen-in-Leather, Twelve Skirmishing Cavalry, Ten Armoured Horsemen. 9000sp per month
5	Snarl - Although her name elicits sniggers, it cannot be denied that she is an elite within an elite. No ordinary Hound, she bears the head of a wolf proudly. Perhaps one of the most expensive bands, she has yet to fail her assigned task. Her troops are nearly fanatically dedicated, and she only accepts Horned Hounds in her number, something which has soured relations with other Crested Warbands. Her warband is currently engaged in assisting the free city of Larbuck against the Empire. Snarl, 8th Level Fighter, 62HP, Plate, Variety of Weapons, Slaughter Ring. Slaughter Ring - Snarl bears the Slaughter Ring, although none know of it, including her - she believes it to be merely a marriage band from her runaway spouse. The ring grants immunity to mind-altering effects during combat, and grants the wielder 18 strength when a weapon is in their hands. However, they are unable to find meaning or joy in anything but the slaughter of combat, and will take their own lives in they cannot find it. Worth 6000sp. Forty Knights, variety of weapons. Often fight on foot. 8000sp per month.
6	Harold the Bastard - Once an adventurer, a merchant and prince, Harold has returned to what he does best - paid killing. Utterly unscrupulous and incredibly knowledgable. His mongrel head is at odds with his gentlemanly speech and taste.Thanks to his many adventures, he knows an expert in almost any given matter he cannot claim experience in himself, leading to strings of very specialist jobs. His small group have all been through the crucible together, and fight as second level fighters. Harold the Bastard - 9th Level Specialist, Leather, Rapier and Sling. Thirty Mixed Infantry, Variety of Arms and Armour, Twenty Crossbowmen, Two Mounted Skirmishers, 5000sp per month.
7	Yellow Edgar - A crow that makes his own corpses, Edgar’s forces are known for leaving no prisoners, ruthlessly slaying those who fall. He frequently chafes with his employers over scavenger’s rights.The yellow moniker stems from the hideous livery he and his troops began their careers in, though many now bear the arms and armour associated with Imperial Knights. Most recently, they have been seen transporting a huge amount of scavenged material towards a mercantile capital, spoils from the latest employment. Yellow Edgar - 6th Level Specialist, Leather, Longsword, Longbow. One Hundred Mixed Soldiers, can be configured to fight in any manner as needed. 8000sp + scavengers rights per month.
8	Anthony the Learned - A known dabbler in magical arts, many do not trust him nor his men, whispering of dark pacts made with darker spirits. It is widely known his feathers are burnt, and appears old beyond his years. He jumps at the chance to fight sorcerous foes, if given access to arcane loot recovered. His soldiers are often replaced, and their morale is low. Heavy drinking is common. They whisper of the terrible things Anthony has done, and has bargained with. They were spotted most recently emerging from an ancient barrow-complex, laden with grave-goods better left buried, no doubt. Anthony the Learned - 8th Level Magic User, Leather, Four Bound 6HD Demons (as Summon), all spells appropriate to his level. Forty Swordsmen-in-Chain, Twenty Priests-of-the-Steppe, Twenty Light Horsemen, 6000sp per month. Morale 8.

DATA ROT - HALF REMEMBERED CYBERPUNK ADVENTURES

First, some music.

These are some half-remembered adventure-type things I've run for Cyberpunk 2020. It's weird, in a setting most open to people finding out about things and exploiting them on their own initiative, people are most eager to look for discrete jobs. Something to do with choice paralysis maybe?

Most of these ideas are quite nihilistic and nasty. People with money and power abuse it - if that's not your tone they'll need re-working. May as well talk about what my players got up to whilst we're at it.

My Child is a Prostitute and is Missing

The son of the local *big corp* division has a very specific tastes - exotics - which are people genespliced and modified for animal traits. Women with animal fur, ears, shit like that. The deal is a friend of the characters has a child, who is a prostitute. No big deal so far, but they've gone missing. Search of their home reveals a datapad with the clients booked in - namely a lot of visits from the son mentioned above. There's signs of forced entry, maybe some people who got shot for being in the way of a corporate snatch team. They've been transported to the home of the son, who has:

a) many exotics already, all of whom have been memory-wiped and programmed for loyalty. If you wanted to get really nasty they could have cyberweapons built in, to double up as body guards.

b) his own private surgery at the back of the apartment (located deep into corporate territory, ofc.) wherein the missing child is sedated, awaiting the surgery and the mind-wipe. Obviously, this stuff is very illegal, hence the surgery being in the home.

My players first infiltrated the sex-fur party thanks to the Rocker in the party. They went in the back, brutally murdered the surgeon, and picked up the kid. One player was so disgusted with all this they blew the son's head clean off. This caused a riot of exotics running for the elevator whilst the heavy guys took out the security team that had been dispatched to investigate the band of heavily armed weirdos going into the rich-people tower complex. They ended up escaping via the sewers to avoid pursuit by aerodyne vehicles (basically harrier jump jets, but more helicopter-y.) They were paid in free noodles for life by Asian Juan, the proprietor of Noodlebar, the noodle bar, wherein bars of noodles are served.

The Pharaoh is an ex-military Cyborg Impostor

(this one was inspired by Transmetropolitan #2, which is sick)

Flights of Fantasy Inc. maintain several resorts, which are slices-of-life from distant time periods populated by many many clones. Incredibly rich clients pay huge sums to pretend to be people of power and import in these fantasy worlds.

The issue? A cyborg has gone rogue inside the Ancient Egypt Resort, and nerve-gassing all the clones isn't a cost-effective measure for dealing with. The players are. This cyborg is tooled up to all fuck, with laser eyes, appearance changing camouflage (hence him being to kill the pharaoh clone and replace him) and a secret stash of plastic-body guns he smuggled into the resort.

Payscale will vary depending on how many clones need memory wipes/outright replacements. A flat rate for removing the cyborg is low, but you can keep the body and all the black-ops enhancements he's toting.

The players poisoned his food so much that his cyber-liver couldn't handle. He died messily. Cooking contests between guards were involved.

Bounty: Organ Mule

(offering players quick and easy bounties is a nice way of breaking up the larger, more involved operations. This one is not that)

A corporation is offering 10k for the (live) return of an experimental heart contained within the chest of a carrier, who has since gone rogue, and is selling the heart for 50k, or the highest bidder. They've done this to pay for the medical bills of their brother. They are protected by a pretty solid mercenary team, and have a tunnel to the sewers hidden on the ground floor of the building they are selling from to escape. The leader of the mercenary group is a well known sniper-for-hire. The organ mule is desperate and is making very stupid decisions - even with the money from a sell, about half goes to the mercenary outfit, making this a very temporary fix to her brothers's medicals bill.

The party said 'fuck this' and instead decided to look into other lines of employment.

Drug-Chip Freak-Out Zombies

This can be thrown in anywhere really. Basically, the hot new drug is pumping experience/emotion into your skull via datajack - these blackmarket datajacks being very crude, and very damaging. A drug-den is now a lot of people with cables hanging out the back of their skulls, tended to by drug dealers toting sub-machine guns. If the players decide to fuck with the drug dealers, they've got a very crude, very basic ATTACK program they can use to burn out the brains of the junkies, and use them as attack-zombies. Cheap and nasty, just like the drug-chips. They're pretty shitty combatants but have numbers and covering fire from the drug dealers, so they can be used to quite a horrid effect.

The players killed fucking all of them without remorse.

that's all I can remember right now - at least the ones which are interesting and uniquely cyberpunkish

Hooded Saints

HOODED SAINTS
1 HP
AC 16 - From speed of flight & size
MOV AS CROW
1 ATTACK - 1d4 Fly-by attack OR 1d4 Peck
M 7
2d20 APPEARING

The lonely spires and haunted crenellations of Nilfenberg are rife with the Hooded Saints - similar in all ways to the normal crow bar a dark hood of feathers sprouting from the neck and head. Often they can be spotted loitering, lurking, near prisons and executions squares, when they are not waging their bloody, endless war on the innumerable vermin of Nilfenberg.

To strike one is to offend the Church, and to kill one worse - a crime punishable by death. To kill a Saint one will feed the rest. Witch-hunters of the Church say the Saints will attack witches, offended by their foulsome, corrupt scent. Their retinues always carry at least one Saint, trained to kill on subtle command.

They accompany the armies of the Nilfenberg Empire to battle, and feed well on the results - it is whispered the nobility have sworn a pact with them to ensure victory, though the mechanisms of such are unknown. The feast of victory falls to them, regardless of who wins the day.

A Murder of Saints is a worrisome sight to any enemy of the Empire or the Church, and the murder of saint is followed by a great flight of the Hooded Saints.

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.

Criminals and Canines

‘We look around for a place to rob’

Now you can blame the dice for that damn dog.

The table below gives the number of houses displaying a vulnerability. Note that the number is modified is the players are looking for a certain wealth level of house (specified in the next table)

# Vulnerable Houses	Settlement Class	Special Notes
1d4 -1	Village	Maximum wealth is Middling.
1d6 -1	Town	Organised guard force present 90% chance.
1d8	Large Town	Organised guard force present and a thieves guild may operate (5% chance)
1d20	City	As above, but 15% chance of a thieves guild.

This table is used to generate the wealth level of vulnerable houses. The Search Penalty applies to the above roll as previously discussed.

d12	Wealth Level	Likely Security Measures	Search Penalty
1 – 2	Destitute – you’ll get some coppers at best. 2d4 cp in overall wealth.	None.	-
2 – 6	Poor – perhaps they’ve stashed some silver? 2d20sp in movable wealth.	Simple Lock	-
7 – 9	Middling – they’re doing okay, something in here should make the fence smile. 10d20sp in movable wealth.	Secure Locks & 5% chance of guard dog.	-1 to vulnerable houses
10 – 11	Rich – some decent loot should be about. 2d100sp in movable wealth.	Secure Locks, 10% chance of guard dog & 1d4 guards.	-2 to vulnerable houses.
12	Extravagant – the big heist – you can’t believe this place has an opening. The amount isn’t an issue, finding the time to get everything is!	Great Locks & 1d10 guards.	-7 to vulnerable houses.

Simple locks raise your effective tinkering skill by one. Great locks do the opposite.

d6	What, exactly, is vulnerable about this house?
1	Open window(s) with relatively easy access.
2	A door has been left ajar. Weird that.
3	Incredibly on-display wealth makes this worthwhile. (re-roll for extravagant)
4	You’ve got a key – dropped outside or perhaps left in the lock?
5	Rumours abound that the owner is out of town for a while.
6	A disgruntled guard let you know that the cellar door is always unlocked.

Just because you’ve got guards doesn’t make them any good. Add 1 to the roll for Extravagant houses. Guards are assumed to be equipped with leather armour and longswords, and fight as standard humans.

d10	Guard Skill
1	Inept. +2 to Stealth skill, unlikely to follow clues etc. Guards are asleep 1-in-6 times. No patrols.
2-3	Poor. +1 to Stealth. Will miss subtle clues. Very loose patrol structure.
4-7	Average. About what you’d expect. Regular patrols, informal check-ins every couple of hours.
8-9	Skilled Guardsmen. -1 to Stealth, relative diligent. Good patrol routes and check-ins every hour.
10	Exceptional. The very best money can buy. -2 to Stealth, well designed patrol routes and check-ins every 20 minutes.

(Tinkering is the LotFP lockpicking skill, and is rated 1-6 to give you a rough estimation for conversion)

A Dead City Twitches

***MORE SUNDAY GAME CONTENT, GO AWAY PLAYERS***

The city is dead, but things still stalk the abandoned streets and empty buildings. On top of this, something lurks from the cataclysm so long ago.

D6	Random Encounters within the City.
1	Animate dead, driven wild by confinement and tragedy. They hunger for intruder-flesh, for the red stuff of life so long absent.
2	1d4 Active defence golems on patrol. Will not attack unless the party is somewhere they shouldn’t be.
3	An insane golem bursts in through a wall, destroying everything in its path. If defeated, a new structure have been revealed.
4	A foraging party of Kausikans, looking for supplies for their hibernating brothers and sisters.
5	The long dead whisper and moan in the ears of the living in strange tongues. They ache to be remembered.
6	An ambush team of cave-adapted humans, inbred and wild from cannibalism and a lifetime within the tomb of their people. Some will be wearing rotting, rusting and corroded ancestral armour and wielding weapons made of metal twisted with bone.

With every drop of blood split, it grows. Every HD worth of damage dealt to living things empowers it, giving it one HD. Once it reaches 4 HD, it manifests and kills. A presence ushered in by the Kausikans, it haunts the streets and follows the living. It sees moisture, not light. Whilst not manifested, it calls out to those who dwell in this place, drawing them like moths to a flame. When destroyed in it's physical form, it simply hides for a week before the process begins anew. It is old.