Foes of the Tower Lands: Weapons

Cauldronborn

Gather the dead. Render them down until body mixes with body. Pour and press the mixture into shape; armor and bone help provide structure.

The proper spells render them pliable. They make for an obedient and utterly fearless fighting force, though limited in application by their lack of intellect. They will march tirelessly, day and night. Supply is little concern while they have fresh meat within reach. Putting them onto ships is ill-advised; they cannot sail, and crews transporting them are liable to become food.

Kalis the Afflictor is famous for using them as a backbone of his armies. Beneath the Weeping Cities, the vats of the Unseen Tower churn ceaselessly. After battles, his Charnel Maidens stalk the bloody fields, choosing from among the slain. In lands beyond, his black-shrouded corpse merchants are known by their carts pulled by night steeds. Selling to them is forbidden, but they offer prices to tempt the desperate.

Strength d8 [HD 2], speed 30', AC 2 [as chain], spear or blade, morale 12.

Chimera

No two are alike. Claw, fang, beak, tail, wing, stinger--flesh is as clay to shape with the power of the gods.

Sariel breeds them with loving care, deep in the untouched places of Elys, her favored children. Others are less lucky, their makers not so kind.

Start with: horse-sized quadruped, strength d8 [HD 4], speed 40', unarmored, slam [as mace], morale 7.

Roll 1d4 exploding. Roll 1d20 that many times. Unless otherwise noted, duplicates stack.

1. Small. -1 step strength [-2 HD], +10' speed.

2. Large. +1 step strength [+2 HD].

3. Sharp teeth in 1 mouth. Bite [as sword].

4. Claws on 1 limb [as sword].

5. Thick hide. +1 AC. Doesn't stack.

6. Scales. +2 AC. Doesn't stack.

7. Extra leg. +5' speed.

8. Arm with grasping hand. For each arm after the second, 1 extra melee attack action per round.

9. One less leg. -5' speed.

10. Slithering tail. Can't be knocked off-balance.

11. Prehensile tail.

12. Stinging tail. As dagger, poisoned on 5-in-6 [save vs. poison], dead in 1 round.

13. Gills.

14. Fins. Swim speed twice movement speed.

15. Vestigial wings. Jump up to twice movement speed.

16. Functional wings. -1 step strength, fly speed twice movement speed.

17. Chameleonic. Can turn invisible while motionless.

18. Breath weapon, poison gas. As Cloudkill once per day.

19. Extra head. 1 extra action per round.

20. Intelligent, speaks.

Hekatonkhier

Among the Storm Knights who partake of the gift of Interface, few dare to tread beyond the Path of Vitra, to attempt the most radical departures from the human form. Most cannot bear the burden of existing in a body so reshaped, their minds breaking under the strain. Hungering for more, they prey on their own, tearing their brethren limb from limb for new steel to add to their hulking forms.

Though it drives them mad, they find the strength they seek. They are knights still, and so their brethren prefer to capture them alive, releasing them on the battlefield to find honorable deaths.

Strength d10 [HD 6], speed 40', AC 3 [as plate], large blade [as greatsword], morale 12. Attacks twice per round.

Jade Blight

No one remembers what mad sorcerer first unleashed it.

In shaded caves, damp ruins, and polluted battlefields, green mass spreads, feeding on rot. Those thinking themselves safely out of reach will find themselves pursued, grasping pseudopods reaching for every ounce of organic matter. What it cannot eat, it takes, filling discarded armor to walk with speed it cannot achieve on its own, taking up weapons to cripple its prey beyond fleeing.

They say if it touches you, your only hope is swift amputation.

Strength d4 [HD 1], speed 10', unarmored, touch attack, morale 12. Immune to normal weapons. Creatures touched must amputate or dissolve into more Jade Blight in 1 minute.

Blightwalker: Strength d6 [HD 2], speed 30', AC 1 [as leather], sword or touch attack, morale 12. On destruction, collapse back into Jade Blight.

Juggernaut

Engines of war from some long-forgotten past age, ramming heads formed in the likeness of great beasts atop crushing wheels. The secrets of their making are lost, but those that remain are prized. Led to battle in chains, they are turned toward the enemy and released. Their own caretakers offer prayer before them, throwing prisoners or, when desperate, their own comrades under the wheels to placate the wrathful gods within.

Under layers of iron plating, they are said to bleed.

Strength d10 [HD 6], speed 60', AC 3 [as plate], ram [as giant's weapon], morale 12.

Mimic

No one knows how they are born. They are weak at first. Small, fragile things of little intelligence, taking shape of inanimate objects for camouflage. They hunt opportunistically, snatching small animals that pass near and digesting them slowly.

As they eat, they grow, in size and in intellect. Camouflage among rocks and old pottery is abandoned to hunt in animal shape. Some, the oldest, are lucky enough to devour a human. Only then do they begin to reach their adult stage. When full grown, none can distinguish them from the real thing until they drop the mask.

The powerful will kill to acquire a young one alive, for it is said they can be made into perfectly obedient spies and assassins--provided one has enough truly loyal servants to offer as food.

Infant: Strength d4 [HD 1-1], speed 10', AC 1 [as leather], bite [as dagger], morale 4. Can assume the forms of inanimate objects. Anything that touches them becomes stuck fast and is slowly digested, 1 wound [1d6 damage] per turn.

Young: Strength d6 [HD 1], speed 30', AC 1 [as leather], bite [as dagger], morale 6. Can assume the forms of animals up to human size. Digesting prey leaves them motionless and vulnerable.

Adult: Strength d8 [HD 3], speed 30', AC 1 [as leather], weapon or unarmed strike, morale 7. Can assume any human or raun form. Digesting prey leaves them motionless and vulnerable.

Rust Beast

They have long escaped the cells of whatever laboratory first produced them, and now roam wild. Sages theorize that they were created from skrik stock. Where the bite of their ancestors paralyzed flesh, however, theirs dissolves metal, breaking it down into a form they can consume.

They are little threat to the living unless cornered. Nevertheless, armies live in fear of an infestation turned loose in their camps.

According to legend, those that manage to consume relic blades take on the ancient prowess and bloodlust of their food.

Strength d6 [HD 1], speed 30', AC 1 [as leather], bite [as dagger] or antenna, morale 5. On antenna hit, held and worn metal items dissolve into rust. Magical items resist on 5-in-6.

Singing Stone

Their name comes from the humming that surrounds them when awake, ringing ears and vibrating ribs.

There have been but a handful discovered, every one hoarded jealously by the Lords. One alone, when deployed, can turn the tide of a battle.

Strength d12 [HD 10], fly 60', AC 3 [as plate], starfire [as Fireball], morale 12. Attacks 3 times per round.

Two Cults

Harry Corr

Archon Aspirants

No one truly knows what god or daemon the great idols lying toppled across the landscape are meant to depict. They have the shapes of humans, but few can look upon their monstrous masks and be unafraid.

The few ancient texts which speak of them are sealed by Thronecult edicts so strict that none now remember the reason for them. They speak of a priesthood who once served the great Demiurges. Of the awesome power these gods of war once wielded. Of how, in a time of need, the Archons would wake the sleeping titans and call upon them to walk.

Those who dare to follow in the Archons' footsteps take their name, seeking the lost knowledge of how to wake the idols. Those discovered by the Lords are put to death. For it is said that those who walk the Archon's path shall be bound forever by the dark destiny of a cruel angel....

Abilities and equipment as relic hunters.

Black Blades

All are raun. None will share their secrets with one of the Skyborn, on pain of death.

They trace their origin to the Zoah. Those in the Tower Lands today have been long cut off from their forebears by the Stormwall, save for the few who make the journey by ship. They wage their war still, in secret. Traveling as solitary preachers, they move among raun communities on this side of the Wall, spreading the truth to those who will listen.

They alone remember what was lost--what the Skyborn took from them. How the world was broken. How the gods were butchered. They see how the Skyborn teem and multiply even now, a plague that walks and speaks. How the raun of the Tower Lands are deceived. How they forget.

The Black Blades will remind them. And when they remember, the gods shall be avenged.

Strength d6 [Fighter 4], speed 30', unarmored, staff or Black Blade kindred, morale 9. Master fighters. 3d6 Đ.

Often accompanied by raun disciples (as bandits).

Black Blade Kindred

A buglike creature about the size of a spread hand, with six spindly, three-jointed legs like grasping fingers, no visible head, and a thin tail ending in a foot-long black stinger. On the underside of the body, a slit opens into an orifice from which several thin nervous tendrils can extend. A raun skilled in kinbonding can connect with it by this means. Within the Tower Lands, only the Black Blades themselves still know of this technique.

When wielded by a kinbonder, the legs grasp the forearm and the tail rests in the wielder's hand. From there it can extend to a surprising 30' length, functioning like a whip, with the stinger as a blade. Any stung are poisoned, dead in 1 round on 5-in-6 [save vs. poison].

If not bonded to a wielder, dies in 1 week.

The Black Blades are sworn never to wield their kindred against another raun, nor use any edged or piercing weapon against one, even in self-defense. They will always seek to resolve conflicts with raun nonviolently. If pressed, they will resort to their staves, fighting to disable.

Warfare

Armies

There are no standing armies in the Tower Lands. Armies are assembled as gatherings of feudal retinues; each lord calls on their knights, who call on their friends among the peasantry and their slaves to accompany them, all with whatever wargear and provisions they can afford to bring from their homes. Each liege is responsible for paying their own retinue, usually from shares of whatever pay they receive from their own liege.

By longstanding tradition inherited from Old Kingdom law, every house in the realm is required to maintain, at minimum, a spear, helmet, and shield, and to provide one able conscript at their liege's request. While villagers still train with regular formation drills just in case, in practice, most lords will only conscript from among their serf farmers as a last resort, since that means fewer people to work the land and pay taxes. Most soldiers are drawn from the freefolk, with well-off town houses maintaining sometimes significant wargear and training their youth for service. These semi-professional fighters form the backbone of most Halish armies.

A single knight with their retinue is called a lance; this is the smallest level of organization in a Halish army. A lance is a logistical grouping, not a tactical one, used mainly when describing the overall strength of an army. The traditional lance is composed of a mounted knight in heavy armor; a second cavalier in medium or light armor, who might be lowborn or a highborn squire learning from a veteran; three or four foot soldiers with medium or light armor; two lightly armored archers; and at least two slave porters, one each for the knight and the second cavalier. In addition to their warhorse, the knight traditionally brings a riding horse and a pack horse, and the second cavalier brings another pack horse. Today, with the collapse of the Old Kingdom's military economy, most knights would be lucky to field such a retinue. More realistically, most modern lances include an armored knight with a warhorse and a pack horse, three or four lightly armored foot soldiers, an archer, and perhaps two slaves or other support personnel.

A group of lances under a single lord is called a company, with the lord taking the role of captain. This is the main tactical grouping of a Halish army. When arranging for battle, a captain usually won't deploy their lances as lances, but will instead break up each type of soldier--light cavalry, heavy cavalry, archers, and infantry--into one or more tactical groups called cohorts, each led by a sergeant. Traditional wisdom is that you need one sergeant for every cohort of ten warriors. The Tower Lands are hilly enough that cavalry battle is often impractical, so knights train for mounted and foot combat equally and may deploy in either role; when fighting as infantry, they'll often serve as sergeants of infantry cohorts.

Armies larger than a handful of companies--that is, a few hundred to a couple thousand fighters all told--are rare in the present age. Where a lord calls up their knights in force, leaving few to guard their lands, they might have an impractically large company; in that case, they'll often break up their force into several companies captained by their favored retainers. If such a group of companies is part of a larger army, rather than an army in its own right, it's called a battalion.

Quite often, an army won't be drawn up entirely by a single lord from their own vassals; lords going to war love to call on their friends to join in and bring their forces along. When this happens, if there isn't a clear hierarchy among the lords joining in, supreme command of the army usually falls to the one whose idea the campaign was. However, fights between lords over who's in charge are one of the most common ways Halish armies dissolve.

Logistics and Strategy

Every army lives and dies by its baggage train. Camp servants, porters, and quartermasters--most of whom are usually slaves--are a vital element of any force, and prime targets for attack.

When an army is on campaign, soldiers with scouting and wilderness experience will be deployed as vanguards, ranging ahead of the main force to harass the enemy, targeting their supplies, their stragglers, and their morale. This often involves burning villages and killing farmers who the enemy would rely on to supply them. One of the most important pieces of strategic wisdom every Halish lord learns is, "The best place for any army is on someone else's land." This way, when the enemy--or, indeed, your own soldiers--go around pillaging local villages for supplies, it'll be someone else's serfs they're doing it to.

When an enemy shows up on your doorstep with an army, they're traditionally supposed to come right to you, call you out of your citadel, call you a bitch, and challenge you to come out and fight them. If you refuse, they might park their army down at your doorstep and dig in for a siege, at which point you'd better hope you either have enough supplies to outlast them or have some way of getting more that they don't know about. Alternatively, or at the same time if they can spare the forces, they might go riding around your lands burning down your farms and killing your serfs, hoping to force you to come out and deal with them before they leave your fief a barren wreck that won't make you any money. Only if they're very confident and have the right siege equipment will they try to attack your walls; defense is always much easier than offense.

Skipping the "riding up to your doorstep and calling you a bitch" step and going straight to the "riding around murdering your serfs" step is considered a dick move, but it happens fairly often.

Tactics

The most important thing to understand about Halish warriors is that they are fucking stupid. The Halish don't go in much for things like "strategy" and "planning" and "force organization"; they find all that stuff super lame. Battles are, first and foremost, opportunities for knights to demonstrate their personal prowess, shed lots of blood, and win glory. Concerns like strategic objectives and state interests are distant second priorities, if they think about them at all.

Usually, when two Halish armies meet in the field, the battle will start out with infantry forming opposing shield walls and marching toward one another, with archers taking shots from the flanks and light cavalry, if present, doing ride-by harassment with javelins. Meanwhile, the heavy cavalry, if present, will gather in their cohorts and get ready to charge the enemy's infantry line. If both armies have heavy cavalry, the two will usually meet in the middle of the field, at which point things will dissolve into a bloody, chaotic melee with zero organization or tactics beyond every knight fighting to unhorse as many opponents as possible. This is most knights' favorite part of a battle.

Whichever side wins the melee will rally and continue to charge the enemy infantry, which will often rout at about this point. Whether they hold their ground or not, the cavalry will slam into their lines and cut down as many as possible, killing anyone who tries to break and flee. This is most knights' second-favorite part of a battle. Those who get away will be mopped up by the light cavalry and archers.

If the cavalry melee has left the winner weakened enough that the enemy's infantry can hold off their charge, they'll break off and circle back behind their infantry line to rest. Knights consider it super lame to have to do this. The infantry lines will then finally meet, at which point the shield walls will push against each other and try to break open gaps to cause a rout. Victory at this point is determined by the morale and mutual trust of each infantry force; whoever breaks first loses. Those who flee can be cleaned up by the winning infantry, archers, and light cavalry.

If the terrain doesn't permit cavalry battle, things will basically proceed with those steps skipped. However, most knights find fighting in infantry formations turbo-mega lame, so they'll often rush off ahead to meet the enemy's knights ahead of the line and fight things out in duels. This is when they get to bust out all the fancy martial arts they spend so much time practicing.

No knight with any semblance of honor will ever, ever accept being deployed anywhere but the very front of an army during battle. This insistence has lost countless battles that could have been won. Knights would much rather lose gloriously than win by being lame.

You might be asking, are Halish knights all suicidal? Sort of, but not as much as it might sound. Keep in mind that with their heavy armor, and the prevalent tradition of capturing enemy knights to ransom rather than just executing them, knights are relatively unlikely to actually die in battle (at least compared to common soldiers, and no one cares about them). Nevertheless, being fearless and accepting of death is a huge virtue in Halish warrior culture. A knight whose liege dies in battle is expected to die with them, by their own sword if necessary; failing to do so is a grave dishonor, worthy of becoming an outcast.

Of course, that's all well and good in theory, but in practice, many knights who lose their lieges do choose not to go through with the whole honor-suicide part. Those knights tend to gather up their surviving followers and join mercenary companies of others like them, who end up forming an unsavory but vital resource for lords needing to strengthen their forces. Or they become bandits.

August Blog Bandwagon: Setting Pitch for the Tower Lands

We're doing setting pitches this month, so here's mine. I've been writing a lot about the Tower Lands lately, so hopefully this'll be a helpful summary for anyone just joining in.

As Mr.Mann has already pointed out, any good setting has more than one pitch. There's the ground-level view you give to players to get them on board with an adventure, there's the big overview you give to refs, and there's the behind-the-curtain commentary that dispenses with the flowery prose and puts everything in context. I'm gonna address each of these in order, plus the ever-popular Appendix N.

The Player Pitch

The caves of Roa Village are the only world you’ve ever known. Stone above, stone below. Humanity numbers five hundred and sixteen souls since Ged and Lani had their baby last week. By glowshroom’s light, you spend your wake-shifts in search of the earth’s bounty: gold and silver, iron and tin, and above all, the Glimmer, that sparkling treasure with its soft green luminescence, every find a blessing.

Under Chief Belar’s watchful eye and the masked gazes of the acolytes, the fruits of your labor are offered up to the gods, carried into the temple and never seen again. The elders speak of a world above where the gods dwell, a place of a thousand colors and a hundred thousand lights, where there are no walls and no ceiling. When someone asks if it really exists, the elders only shrug. All know better than to speak of it in front of the chief, or else earn lashes for turning their thoughts from work.

Three sleep-shifts ago, a whisper began to circulate. One of the deep teams uncovered something unbelievable: a new tunnel, unknown on any of the maps. Walls not of rock but of metal, gleaming silver, and light, not glowshrooms or even firelight, but a strange pale radiance from some unknown source.

You scarcely dared believe it…but there it is before your eyes. A fissure in the rock, and within, those gleaming silver walls, smoother than those of any cave.

What secrets do they hold?

The Ref Pitch

The Tower Lands are part of the continent of Urd, on the world of Arai. Their name comes from the Towers of the Gods, five enormous, ancient structures said to have been built by the primordial First Ones who shaped the world ages ago. The rulers of the Tower Lands are the Deathless Lords, five immortal sorcerer-kings who each control one of these Towers. With mighty magics and wondrous relics at their command, served by power-mad sorcerers and enchanted superhuman warriors, the Deathless Lords are worshiped by the common people as gods in their own right.

The sages call the present age the Interregnum--a fallen age. Centuries of war between the Deathless Lords for control of the realm have left the Tower Lands shattered. Beyond the walls of the great cities that gather at the feet of the Towers, villages shine as points of light amid deadly wilderness, surrounded by their ruined neighbors. Armies march on campaigns spanning generations, no longer remembering who or what they fight for, burning all in their path. Desperate bandits, hungry beasts, treacherous daemons, and magical weapons now beyond the Deathless' control stalk the roads. Few dare to travel far from their homes, though things are little better in settled places. The lords who serve the Deathless feast off the labor of serfs and slaves. Bloodthirsty knights take what they want at the point of a sword. Corrupt temples bleed the people of tribute. Those unfortunate enough to lose their lands and families, to be touched by curses, or to speak out against their oppressors are cast out, left to fend for themselves.

The Tower Lands are about the size of Greece. The landscape is varied, but in broad terms, it's warm, dry, mountainous, and coastal--like the northern Mediterranean, though the plants and animals mostly aren't those of Earth. The aesthetics and culture are a mishmash of classical, medieval, and pulp sword-and-sorcery trappings. Knights wear plate armor and wield longswords and polearms, while gunpowder is unknown. Feudal sorcerer-warlords rule walled cities maintained by slave labor. People offer sacrifices to legions of gods great and small under the instruction of secretive cults.

Ruins of the First Ones and countless ages since litter the landscape. Within lie forgotten treasures, powerful relics, and lost secrets. Such wonders speak of a better past, a time when people lived in peace, prosperity, and hope. Those brave enough to seek them must contend with devious traps, ancient guardians, and baleful curses, but the rewards can be great. The Deathless Lords covet the treasures of the ancients, while intrepid relic hunters risk all to claim what they can carry.

The people of the Tower Lands call themselves the Halish, hundreds of tribes and clans united by shared language and customs. Most are human. There are also the raun, the horned folk. Many raun live within Halish communities and embrace that culture, and those who do are generally accepted as Halish in their own right. Others keep to their own enclaves in border villages and nomad bands, where they are said to keep strange, barbaric traditions and worship false gods.

Though the Towers are the most spectacular symbols of the gods' power in the world, perhaps the most truly wondrous is Dust. This substance, gathered from ancient sites or refined from rare minerals at holy shrines, is said to be the First Ones' wisdom in physical form. Using the art of tuning, sorcerers imbibe Dust to partake of that divine wisdom, engraving their will upon it with secret meditations, chants, and hand signs and unleashing its power to bend the elements and occult forces to their service. The Deathless Lords and their servants covet Dust above all other treasures; so highly is it valued that the common folk use it as currency in trade.

In a village deep underground, mine slaves who have never seen the sky unearth a strange new chamber. Within lie wonders beyond their imagining, and dangers that may be their end. For those who survive, a path awaits into the world beyond, to stand beneath all the lights in the sky and, perhaps, to challenge the gods themselves...

The Real Talk

The Tower Lands are secretly a sci-fi post-apocalypse. Not the gonzo rayguns-and-wizards mishmash kind, at least not overtly--more the Dying Earth sufficiently-advanced-technology vibe. The power of the ancients genuinely looks like fantasy magic even to us as a modern audience, and all the sci-fi is masked with an archaic surface aesthetic or else so weird that it's not clearly recognizable.

Arai is an alien planet; the raun are the indigenous sapients. The First Ones were humans who came from a spacefaring civilization and built a bunch of shit before that civilization collapsed or somehow fell out of contact. Dust is nanotech that tuners program with bio-hacking. The relics of the ancients include power armor ("enchanted plate") and particle beam rifles ("magic staves"). Daemons are AIs. No one alive now remembers this, not even the Deathless, who came around long, long after it happened; some raun cultures who preserve the most of their ancient history will say that they were here in the Tower Lands first and humans came from elsewhere, but that's the most they know. If you're running stuff in the Tower Lands, don't tell the players this, and don't go out of your way to drop obvious hints; let it be background for them to work out if they care.

The Tower Lands started out years ago as my attempt to build a D&D setting that broadly conformed to the basic assumptions of the game and took the premises in interesting directions. D&D has always been a game with a by-default post-apocalyptic setting, with points-of-light settlements amid howling empty wilderness, littered with ruins of past glorious ages hiding forgotten treasure. That's the place I started from.

The main twist I introduce is that the PCs the players actually play aren't the first group of "PCs" to come around in the world--that's what the Deathless Lords are. They all started out as adventurers exploring the megadungeons of the Tower Lands, the Towers themselves, and eventually did what all good adventurers do, take the motherfuckers over and establish them as their own strongholds. With all that power and treasure, they graduated to domain play, and now the PCs are living in their campaign world, at the bottom of the social ladder they've climbed and enforced through violence and conquest--again, like all good PCs.

The Deathless being PCs is also why they're all so batshit fucking crazy.

You may have noticed that the player pitch doesn't really include almost any of the information from the ref pitch. See, I sort of lied: there really is no "player pitch for the Tower Lands." One of my favorite things in fantasy is worlds that aren't what they seem at first glance--I adore the feeling of picking up a new story and thinking, "okay, I see what this is doing," and then turning the page and going, "what, WHAT?" The Tower Lands, with its whole secret sci-fi history, is meant to facilitate that experience. This informs how I present it to players: incompletely, like the Three Blind Men with the Elephant.

The starting adventure introduced by the pitch above, with the players as underground-dwelling mine slaves who have no idea the surface world exists, is meant to give them an entry point to the world knowing practically nothing about it. They can then discover the world along with their characters through play. So they don't get a pitch that explains the broad outlines of the world to them. They're thrown into the dungeon of the starting adventure, and if they survive and make it to the end, they're thrown even harder out into the wider world and literally see the sky for the first time. It's a moment that's meant to provoke two responses: "Holy shit, this world is not what we thought it was," and, "Who the fuck is responsible for keeping this from us?" That's how play starts.

One very important part of the secret history is that no one will ever know what the First Ones' civilization was actually like. There will never be a clear answer for whether they were violent colonizers who broke the world or peaceful explorers whose creations have only become weird and dangerous because of whatever collapse happened. This is intentional. The First Ones represent that lost glorious past every D&D setting is obsessed with, but as we've all become more aware of as the discourse around fantasy has evolved, that past is often not as glorious as some would like to think. The Deathless Lords themselves and the whole society they've built are obsessed with the First Ones' glorious past, worshiping them and cursing the present age for falling from the heights they achieved. The Deathless Lords are also assholes. Does that mean the First Ones were too? It's undeniable that the First Ones were powerful, but does that mean their age is something the PCs should aspire to restore, or is everyone better off moving on and letting the past die? I don't know, and I'm never going to decide for the players. Ultimately, it doesn't matter what the past really was--what matters is what the people of the present, including the PCs, do with the world that past has shaped.

Appendix N

In chronological order by first publication.

• A Princess of Mars (literature, Edgar Rice Burroughs, 1912)
• The Dying Earth (literature, Jack Vance, 1950)
• Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser (literature, Fritz Leiber, 1970)
• Berserk (manga, Kentaro Miura, 1989)
• Dark Sun (RPG materials, TSR, 1991)
• Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann (animation, Gainax, 2007)
• Infinity Blade (video game, Chair Entertainment, 2010)
• Kill Six Billion Demons (webcomic, Tom Parkinson-Morgan, 2013)
• The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (video game, Nintendo, 2017)
• NieR: Automata (video game, Platinum Games, 2017)
• Jujutsu Kaisen (manga, Gege Akutami, 2018; animation, MAPPA, 2020)
• Elden Ring (video game, FromSoftware, 2022)

The Tower Lands Sex Post

Gin said he'd ban me if I didn't do this.

Family and Social Organization

The basic unit of Halish society is the house, which is both the dwelling and the extended family who live there (the word for both in Halish is the same). For all but the rich, homes are a single room with a large hearth at one end; everyone eats, sleeps, and does chores together in the same space.

At minimum, a house must be comprised of a married couple. An unmarried person with no living family is an outcast, a legal non-person. The most common way to escape being an outcast is to bind oneself to a house as a slave. Slaves are property of the house rather than members, but they have some customary protections outcasts lack--mainly that only their masters can kill or maim them without legal penalty, and they can make enforceable contracts with their masters' permission.

Property is owned by houses, not individuals. In practice, this mostly matters for slaves, livestock, and land, but technically, even the clothes on a person's back are the property of their house (and if you're an outcast, anyone can legally take anything you have at any time, since you can't own it).

Every house has a head who's responsible for its welfare and conduct and, in turn, has authority over all other family members. Heads of houses are expected to answer for the actions of their relatives outside the house, and if a member of the house has done some wrong, the head can administer justice as they see fit. When the head of a house dies, their position passes to their heir. Traditionally, this is their oldest living child; customs vary on who inherits if there are no children, and disputes often arise over the issue.

Gender and Marriage

The Halish have no word for gender as distinct from sex, which they regard as binary. Halish society is mostly quite gender-egalitarian. Women and men can both be heads of houses, and sex is a non-factor in inheritance, except for some remnants of old matriarchal customs in Astos. There is very little division of labor based on sex, with all common social roles open to men and women equally. The Halish are proud of their gender equality, mainly in how both men and women are warriors. They regard other cultures who restrict people from fighting based on gender as foolish and backward, and the non-warrior genders of those cultures as weak and pathetic. A Halish warrior, if attacked in front of their spouse, expects to see that spouse pull their dagger and leap to fight alongside them.

The main place where sex is an issue is in marriage and childbearing. Halish marriages are always heterosexual and monogamous, and everyone is expected to marry. The head of a house has the power to arrange or refuse marriages for all members; most marriages are arranged this way for the house's economic and practical benefit, though of course some house heads will listen to their children's preferences. Traditionally, when a couple gets married, the spouse from the poorer house moves in with the richer one. Thereafter, they're legally considered part of their new resident house, a member of that family. This is a matter of custom, not law; in practice, which spouse goes to live in the other's house is often a subject of much negotiation. The question is especially important because whichever spouse moves in with the other's family is expected to bring a dowry with them to compensate their new family for the extra burden of supporting them. Typically, a savvy house head will try to have their oldest child marry someone from a house that's just a little poorer than their own so they can collect the biggest dowry and keep their heir, then marry their younger children off to the heirs of the richest houses that'll take them to secure them better lives.

Fashion and Hygiene

The Halish are a big bathing culture. Bathing is a major social activity. In poor communities, everyone gets together frequently to bathe and do laundry in whatever natural body of water is handy. In wealthier towns, public bathhouses serve as community centers. The very rich will maintain private baths, usually large enough for themselves and guests. Private bathing is a sign of status, not modesty.

The Halish are not a prudish people. In bathing and in the home, nudity around others is normal regardless of gender, and many won't bother to dress at home even for guests. Nudity outside of the home is seen as a sign of poverty more than anything; others might take a naked stranger for a slave, but they won't demand they cover up. Conversely, bathing with clothes on is seen as extremely low-class, a sign that one is so busy they can't take the time to wash their clothes properly. Wearing wet clothing is believed to slow the blood and cause illness of the lungs.

Most Halish prefer to dress in a style of tunic or gown made from a single piece of linen or wool sewn together at one end to form a tube, which can be belted, pinned, and folded about the body at various lengths to create varied silhouettes. As a rule, younger men and women, and those doing physical work, favor shorter tunics, while the elderly and those with more sedentary jobs favor longer gowns. Knights will traditionally swap out the tunic for a thick quilted vest or coat--called an arming coat--and tight woolen leggings, made to be worn under armor or as light armor in its own right. Capes and cloaks are added as accessories and for cold weather. The standard footwear is leather sandals that wrap around up the calves, but leather shoes and boots are also used for those traveling and wanting more foot protection, mainly knights. Most people go without underwear, though when preparing for battle or other vigorous activity, women will sometimes use sashes to bind their breasts and men will wear loincloths to secure their bits.

Long hair is seen as a sign of health and wealth, styled protectively using braiding and macca oil and proudly displayed. Although only monks and nuns commonly shave their heads, shaving everywhere else is popular. All but the poorest will usually remove most of their body hair with razors, waxing, and chemical agents. Tweezing the eyebrows to create a more defined shape is popular. Wearing pubic hair, and facial hair for men, is traditionally reserved for those who have either had children or killed someone in battle; those men who do grow beards keep them short and well-trimmed. Wealthy men and women both wear makeup to darken the eyelids, rouge the cheeks and lips, and further define the eyebrows. Perfume is highly valued by all. Permanent body modifications like tattoos, piercings, and scarification are rare outside of certain specific cults, seen to disfigure the beauty of a healthy and well-made body. The ideal body is supposed to represent a warrior's strength and vitality, so height, muscle, and fat are all considered attractive for both sexes.

Sex

The Halish have two main words for sex, the act. The first translates as "non-reproductive sex" or "recreational sex," and describes everything that won't (normally) produce children. This is considered a social activity; any two non-related adults can engage in it without taboo, regardless of whether they're married and to whom, and there's little to no sense of privacy around it. The Halish don't really have a concept of romance as we might understand it; marriage is a legal and economic arrangement mainly concerned with producing children, where one hopes they might end up with someone they can be friends with as a side benefit. Recreational sex between friends isn't seen as a sign of anything deeper than friendship. This means people we'd call queer aren't persecuted for acting on their attraction to those of the same sex, or for their lack of attraction to the opposite. However, there isn't really any idea of two people of the same sex having an intimate relationship beyond being friends, and such people face the same pressure as anyone to marry someone of the opposite sex and produce children.

The other Halish word for sex translates as "reproductive sex," and is exactly what it sounds like. A married person having reproductive sex with someone other than their spouse is considered a crime against that spouse and their whole house. If it can be proven (meaning, in practice, if you can convince your family and neighbors that it happened), it's one of the few grounds for divorce. In the past, it was considered a valid basis for a house feud; these are less common since they were restricted under Old Kingdom law, but they still happen sometimes. However, the Halish don't really have a concept of virginity--a person who's had reproductive sex with someone else before marrying their current spouse, including one with previous children, isn't seen as any less marriageable. Indeed, it's seen as a good sign, assuming they're still young enough for more kids.

Sex work is ubiquitous. Most sex workers are slaves; free commoners who do it aren't judged any differently from those who do any other work, and nobles avoid it like any other labor that isn't religion or warfare. Just about every town has at least one brothel, and the wealthy will keep personal pleasure slaves. Like most things, sex work is not restricted by gender, with men and women both acting as purveyors and purchasers subject to the same judgment, i.e., none at all. Because humans and raun can't have children, raun pleasure slaves are especially valued.

Sex is considered part of hospitality similarly to food, bathing, and other entertainment. Wealthy hosts in particular will usually offer guests the services of their house's pleasure slaves. In poorer households without slaves, family members of lowest status--usually the youngest adults--will be pressured to fulfil the task instead, especially for high-status guests.

The Halish don't possess reliable contraceptives. They do make use of various chemical abortifacients. Abortion isn't considered a crime, but it's seen as shameful, since everyone is supposed to have as many kids as they can.

Maternity

When a couple tries to conceive, roll 1d6 exploding in secret to see how many weeks of regular effort it takes. Each time the die explodes, roll 1d6 for each partner in secret. On a roll of 1, that character is infertile. Characters who have already had children can still become infertile later in life.

A pregnant character is burdened in their second trimester and cannot adventure in their third. Pregnant women are socially obligated to refrain from hard physical labor and fighting. Breaking this taboo outside of an emergency is considered gravely dishonorable, as is attacking a pregnant woman, even in war.

A common Halish saying translates as, "Every child is born on a battlefield." Maternal and infant mortality are high. Midwives are essential pillars of every community. When a character attempts to give birth, roll 1d6 baseline, another 1d6 if the mother is well-fed and well-rested in a safe place, and another 1d6 if a skilled midwife or doctor assists. If all dice roll a 1, the mother dies. If she survives, she takes -2 to all physical checks until she rests for a full 3 weeks, -1 afterward until she rests for another 3 weeks.

Next, roll 3d6 baseline, 1d6 less if the mother is healthy and well-fed, 1d6 less if a doctor or midwife assists. If any dice roll a 1, the child is stillborn.

The Halish consider anyone born visibly disabled, deformed, or sickly to be cursed. Babies born so are often abandoned or murdered. Unless a player wants to deal with something like this, assume any children born to them are generally healthy and will develop typically.

The peril doesn't end at birth. For each season of a newborn's first year, roll 1d6 baseline, another 1d6 if the child has been well-fed and well-cared-for that season. If all dice for a season roll 1, the child dies. If the child survives their first year, they're out of the worst danger, and can be assumed safe unless something dire happens. Only then are they given a name.

Children

Only poor women nurse their own babies; any lady of status will have a slave wetnurse. Children are raised communally by the elders of the house. Every child is expected to try all sorts of chores and labor and learn as much as they can, with the head of the house ultimately putting them on whatever they're most capable at; a slightly-built man with quick hands faces no shame for spending his days spinning yarn, and a strong woman is welcome in the fields. There's no clear social or legal division between childhood and adulthood; children work as hard as they're able to at their age, and are given responsibility to match. People grow up young by our standards.

The Halish are not gentle parents. Children are seen as assets of the house first and people second. A parent refusing to beat their child for disobedience will be seen as highly unusual.

Bastards, whether born to unmarried mothers or by infidelity, are born outcasts. The head of the mother's house has the authority to enslave the child, and usually does so--rich house heads so they can keep the child as a worker, poor ones, so they can sell it. Although being a bastard is a source of shame, being the parent of a bastard isn't inherently so, unless one cheated on one's spouse to do it. Some unmarried women make a practice of intentionally having one or more slave children before marrying so their houses can profit. Others regard this as incredibly fucked up--the Halish aren't all monsters.

reCalled from Action Blogging Challenge

Sahh had this fun idea I wanted to get in on.

The Challenge

It really is as simple as:

1. Pick a fight scene that isn't just two dudes hitting/shooting each other back and forth. Preferrably something with clever/weird manouvers and unconventional fighting techniques.
2. Run as through how you would have adjudicated the fight, what kind of rulings would you have made to allow the players to pull off all the cool manouvers.

I'm gonna take Sahh's suggestion of doing the same scene she posted for comparison's sake: Guts' fight against Lord Zondark from the Guardians of Desire chapter of Berserk.

Foes of the Tower Lands: Knights

Blood Knights

By the scarlet gift of their liege the Blessed Afflictor, they transcend death as he has, for what is dead may never die again. By their eternal oath, his strength is their strength, his thirst their thirst. May their blades turn the oceans red, that he might be sated evermore.

Strength d8 [Fighter 4], speed 40', heavy armor [plate], polearm, sword, or bite [as dagger], morale 6.

Undead: immune to hunger, thirst, fatigue, poison, disease. No penalties from wounds.

Feeding: bite and drain blood of a helpless creature for a full round to heal 1 wound.

Expert fighters and cavaliers. Ordinary horses panic in their presence; can only ride the specially bred night steeds of the Black City. Sunlight causes them agonizing burns, killing them in 1 minute. 4d6+60 Đ.

Chain Knights

Vassals of Ioanna of the Black Star, descendants of the barbarian mercenaries who long ago swore fealty to the House of Ivaluna. Through the Rite of the Chain, they bind warrior daemons to their flesh, and so does each embody the mastery of all their forebears.

Do not mistake their serenity for peaceful nature--they know all too well the seductive lure of battle, and how it must be honed as keenly and precisely as a sword's edge.

Strength d6 [Fighter 6], speed 30', medium armor [chain], longsword, morale 8.

War Demon Dance: enter stance to gain a bonus melee attack action each round, on the same initiative. After the first round, if continuing the War Demon Dance, check morale at the start of each round. On a failure, the extra attack is directed at them.

Master fighters, skilled cavaliers. 4d6+60 Đ.

Circle Knights

When Sariel broke the Iron Circle, its pieces scattered to the winds, company by company. She hoped it would be their end. But iron endures.

They hunt the raun and the curseborn, selling their blades where they must to sustain their campaigns. Grim, devout, shriven clean by hate, they will purge all that threatens humanity, and leave the land pure. So the gods will it.

Strength d6 [Fighter 3], speed 30', heavy armor [plate], polearm or sword, morale 9.
Expert fighters and cavaliers. 4d6+20 Đ.

Green Knights

Those who serve Sariel, the Lady of Teeth, are said to be more beast than human.

Strength d8 [Fighter 4], speed 40', AC 1 [as leather], claw or bite [as sword], morale 8.

Regenerate 1 wound per round.

Master hunters, expert fighters. Keen hearing and smell.

Storm Knights

No order in all the Tower Lands claims more glory than those who serve Magor Stormruler. Privileged beyond compare are those chosen to fight by his side--to ride the winds of the Stormwall, to trade flesh for steel and blood for lightning. By the gift of Interface, they cleanse body and soul of weakness, embracing the strength and certainty of the machine. Such is required of those who hold the line amid the wastes of Doros, shielding the Tower Lands from the barbarism of the Zoah.

Strength d8 [Fighter 6], speed 40', AC 2 [as chain], polearm or sword, morale 10.

Interface: immune to fatigue, poison, disease. No penalties from wounds.

Master aviators, expert fighters and cavaliers. 4d6+60 Đ.

Thorn Knights

None remember their origin; they claim to serve a liege they call "Our Lady of the Rose." Under grime, stains, and generations of patchwork repairs, their remaining pieces of original armor are gleaming silver worked in exquisite floral motifs. Their banners are crimson. In their camps and forts, they conduct themselves as models of chivalry and courtesy. It's said they cultivate flowers in the corpses of their slain enemies, from which they brew the potent drugs that turn them into the frenzied, bestial berserkers their living enemies fear.

Strength d6 [Fighter 3], speed 30', medium armor [chain], polearm or sword and shield, morale 8.

Expert fighters and cavaliers. 4d6+20 Đ, 1d3 doses of Lady's Kiss (ignore wound penalties, must attack someone in melee every round, lasts 1 hour, addictive).

Tomb Knights

They can no longer say whose tomb the coffins they bear represent. They know only that long ago, their forebears committed a failure so great, no living deed could atone for it. Now masterless, they seek honorable deaths, braving battle without even the protection of armor or shield. Their companies attract others who find the weight of their own failures too great to bear. Those who survive become truly formidable.

Strength d6 [Fighter 3], speed 30', unarmored, polearm or sword, morale 12.

Expert fighters.

Veil Knights

In the early days of the Interregnum, the hero Caim Paleblood left the ruins of the capital behind him and led his hundred and eleven companions to Saldis. There, he knelt before Raedric the Divine and pledged him fealty.

They number one hundred and twelve still, each passing the Noble Veil that is their order's strength through generations. They show their faces only to their own and to their liege, for no one else is fit to look upon those who serve the Divine.

Strength d6 [Fighter 4], speed 30', Noble Veil [plate +1], polearm or sword, morale 8.

Expert fighters and cavaliers. 4d6+60 Đ.