The dying woman spoke. Fulan frowned, unable to make it out through the fluid filling her lungs. He rose, wiping his blade on a dead orc's buffcoat. To her credit, the adventurer did not cower as he approached. The warrior squatted in front of her; bare feet protected from the malpais by a quarter-inch of gnarled calluses. The outlander's eyes met his, bloodshot and hateful. She gurgled the word again, loud enough for the entire warband to hear.
"Cannibal".
Fulan threw his head back and laughed, the cruel sound echoed by the other soldiers who spoke her foreign tongue. He moved to strike her with his cimeter, but she did not flinch. With a grin, he severed her potion bandolier. The warrior scooped up the bottled spells and beheld their contents, ignoring the string of fresh epithets and curses the owner levied at him.Mummia from Hogman's Plain. Mellified man from the Hot Lands. Troll's blood from the Peat Bogs. Changeling skin, Umber eyes, Naga fangs, Medusa hair, Minotaur horn. She drank the corpses of thousands, yet cried over his sacred rites. Were these not men? Did they not think, speak, love, and hate?
His eyes flicked to her defiant face, then to the barrels of carmine she'd been transporting. Payment for services rendered, for powder and shot delivered to the hated dogmen. His calloused thumb brushed against his own musket. He was sorely tempted to spark his flinted skin, to watch her face explode into vaporised meat. To leave her ruined corpse to the beak things and bonehounds and ghuls. But it wouldn't be right. She had fought well, nearly punching through his ambush with fire, faith, and steel.
So he knelt before her and began to cut.
Chief among the hyper-advanced precursors were the echinodermic Elder Things, refugees from distant stars who warred with the Mi-Go and their janissaries for dominion over the inland sea.
The Fungi from Yuggoth came out on top, laying the crinoids low with an infectious infohazard that devolved them into primitive morons. But the crabs didn't find all of their holdouts; some ruins still lie untouched, ripe for the taking by the supernumerary adventuring guilds swarming the ochre soil.
Rode Egel
The 62 Gnoll (OSE) settlers are led by Cheeroonear the Jackalwere (OSE), an indigenous convert who has wholeheartedly adopted the palingenetic dreams of his urban packmates. Mostly because he gets to wage a war of annihilation against old tribal enemies with the technological edge of industrial civilisation. To avoid blasting visitors with his gaze attack, the dogman wears a beautiful pair of horn-rimmed spectacles made from polished sapphire and Dragon Turtle shell.
The Laughing Men have avoided venturing into the centre of the grove after losing several hunters there. That was until a brave pup snuck inside and stumbled across a stone pit descending deep into the earth. It didn't take long for word to filter back to civilisation through outback traders. After all, any adventurer worth their salt knows a dark hole in the ground can only mean one thing.
Scale is large, 20' to a square. Ceilings are 50' tall, stretching beyond torchlight. Doors are massive 10'x10' edifices of stone and dense alloys that require five limbs to actuate. They can still be jammed with iron spikes, by hammering it into the complex mechanism in the portal's centre.
R1: A 200' pentagonal shaft lined with strange handholds not made for human limbs. A block and tackle might be necessary for hauling up heavier items. Upon intersecting with R1's ceiling, the shaft transitions into five pillars - opening into a larger chamber with doors on every wall. The floor here is surprisingly clean. Considering the pit is open to the sky, you'd expect more accumulated debris.
R2: Trashed workshop, filled with destroyed machinery, shattered crystals, and upturned storage jars. Every dungeon turn spent sifting through the wreckage finds one of the following:
- A heavy tapayan of inert, unprogrammed protomatter. A wizard could craft a Clay Golem (OSE) from it, given time. The Shoggoth finds the stuff delicious, and could be distracted with it.
- Vibro-crystal used for mining. When placed against stone, it slowly vibrates until it hits a resonance frequency, allowing a 10’x10’x10’ section of rock to be smashed apart with minimal effort. There's a cumulative 10% chance of it breaking every time it’s used.
- Heavy lead chest of enriched fire opals, covered in warning symbols. The telluric gems are worth 4,650 SP, but unsealing the box draws the ire of an angry Earth Elemental (OSE).
Against one wall is a bizarre array of flutes and pumps. This hydraulos was used by the Elder Things to upload software to their protoplasms. Tampering with it releases a garbled 'TEKELI-LI TEKELI-LI', the crinoid equivalent of Asimov's Laws of Robotics - a universal baseline of behavioural programming. Activating it while the Shoggoth is present stuns it for 1d4 dungeon turns, or until it is attacked.
R3: In the centre of this room is a ribbed 50' pit flooded with black water. There's a 75% chance the Shoggoth is sleeping inside, else it'll be roaming the dungeon. The protoplasm displaces the water, making it level with the floor. If it is absent the water is 20' lower. Placing the star from R7 at the top of the pit traps the Shoggoth inside. There is nothing of value here, beyond a chiliad of accumulated filth.R4: Elder Thing habitation quarters. The floor is a common area, filled with oversized furniture and strange collections of crystals and tubes. The walls are lined with nooks and overhangs, the individual bedrooms for the crinoids. A total of nine Hunting Cacti occupy the room, resting in filthy glass sleeping tubes, lying unconscious on the floor, or hanging from the ceiling.
A careful search of the room, which risks disturbing the insane starfish, can find 3,100 SP in electrum coinage, fifth-dimensional chess sets, souvenirs of star metal, crystalline models of alien solar systems, and tiny terrariums filled with long dead plants and insects.
R5: This room serves as a panopticon, employing a dizzying mixture of mirrors, lenses, and hearing tubes to spy on the rest of the dungeon. A huge screen of polished metal currently shows R1, but a character with 15 INT can spend a dungeon turn to reorientate the complex array to observe a different room.
R6: The Elder Things stored spare parts from their disassembled generation ship here. This includes bundles of photon sails, carbon filament sheets coated with aluminium and reinforced with struts of titanium alloy. These space age materials are unfathomably valuable, easily worth 70,000 SP.
Unfortunately, nestled among the folds of metallic fabric are a pair Notules, interstellar parasites that hitched a ride on the spaceship a few hundred light years away. They’re harmless pests for the Elder Things, but horribly dangerous for terrestrial life. Disturbing the sails will awaken the dormant assassin sheets, which immediately swarm the nearest person and heat drain them.
R7: Worship hall for Five-Pointed Star, Elder Thing culture hero of scientific enlightenment. On the easternmost wall sits the eponymous star, an asymmetrical five-armed cross. The star is made from heavy soapstone, but it's possible for a 17 STR character to wield it as a shield.
If displayed openly, both the Hunting Cacti and the Shoggoth will refuse to approach the star. This abjuration isn't a magical effect like Turn Undead, it's purely psychosomatic. While the star remains inside the room, any random encounter that results in either monster should be discarded.
R9: Memorial hall, a large atrium with wall murals depicting giant starfish fleeing from a planet with three moons, two white and one green. A huge octopus-dragon rampages on the planet below, tearing down alien cities. 40' up, beyond the reach of torchlight, are murals showing the crinoids escaping on huge ships with silvered sails. These decorations include thick silver leaf worth 2,700 SP if scraped off.
R10: Unfinished murals showing a war between the starfish and fungal crabs, including ancient human proxies battling it out in a verdant prehistoric world. The war was fought over resources - glowing gemstones and golden quartz. Unfortunately, no such valuable materials are included in the mural.
R11: Alien laboratory, all glass and polished stone. A large vat covered in spigots, all caked in the same dried gunk that lines the Urn Mummies' pots. Inside is gallons upon gallons of stabilizing infusion for their preservative goo. The stuff has long since spoiled, but Purify Food and Water can render it usable. The mummies would happily hand over all of their treasure to secure their immortality.
R12: This room has human-sized stone furniture, but most of it has been piled up into makeshift barricades that divide the room into smaller sections. The walls are lined with dozens of annexes, each sized to fit a man-sized urn. Most of the jugs are toppled over, insides lined with dried gunk.Eight remain sealed, all hiding behind fortified positions covered in makeshift sound alarms (mostly piles of ceramic and metal utensils). Inside each hides an Urn Mummy, paranoid of being eaten by their neighbours. Upon triggering a noise trap, the immortals start shouting from inside their impenetrable shells, cursing and threatening in proto-Lawful. If they realise the dungeon has fresh blood to harvest, they surge out of their jugs to attack together, all while squabbling among themselves.
Inside the urns is a total of 11,200 SP in jewellery, crinoid coins, and ornate weaponry, plus a Potion of Healing, Potion of Clairvoyance, and stone tablets of (fly, detect evil, dimension door, protection from evil (mu), detect magic (mu)). These pseudo-burial goods were taken from their life as madzimambos loyal to the crinoids. Though most the treasure actually belongs to the mummies they cannibalised.R13: Stone tubes of nutrients harvested from R14, to be converted into more pleasurable foodstuffs for the crinoids. They've since fermented into fuel-to-air bombs after millennia of stagnation. Unsealing them releases a wave of explosive gas that requires only the slightest spark to ignite (damage as Fireball).
R14: Aquaculture farm where eyeless fish swim and glut themselves on algae. The Shoggoth excretes the remains of consumed victims here, buoying the bioenergy of the closed ecosystem.
The room is occupied by Sienna the Hulker (OSE), a local monsterwoman driven underground by big game hunters. She entered the dungeon by digging into the saltwater pool. Her tunnel isn't completely flooded, but it does have a lengthy sump. The giant insect has no issue swimming in pitch darkness, but it'd be near impossible for an armoured adventurer to follow her escape route.
Sienna is currently filling woven bags with subterranean seafood for her family. If the party look weak, she ambushes them and focuses down the biggest victim, dragging their corpse into the sump. If they look too tough, she communicates with them via ornate pictograms smeared with white ochre, offering to dig a sloped escape tunnel in exchange for something tasty to eat.
Tom Babbey
RANDOM ENCOUNTERS
If a random encounter is triggered, roll 1d6.
1: 1d4 Hunting Cacti, mindlessly roaming the dungeon or feigning death.
2: 1d2+2 Urn Mummies, loudly dragging their protective jars around. Working together to search for preservatives, but laughably prone to betraying one another.
3: 3d6 Gnolls, looking for money they won't have to share with the other colonists. Pretend to be friendly, but will happily devour the party if it means an easy payday. Old habits die hard.
4: 2d10 Scorchlanders, led by a Pyromancer. Talk a big game about protecting an ancient sacred site, until they realise it's full of treasure. Then they start looting it, same as everyone else.
5: The Shoggoth, repairing structural damage and slurping up anything organic.
6: Roll twice and combine.
The Gnolls and Scorchlanders enter the dungeon the same way the party did. This mean they might sabotage climbing equipment, or attack hirelings that were left outside the dungeon. But this cuts both ways - if the party left a sizeable and competent rearguard, discard such results.
Degenerate Elder Things, robbed of their genius by a Mi-Go infohazard. Little more than predatory plants now; motile venus fly traps. Look like normal cacti, until they reach out to drain your blood through their hollow spines. Vulnerable core protected by layers of thick, rugose flesh. Once capable of unassisted interstellar flight, now barely able to flap around on tattered wings.
Opens combat with a salvo of tentacle attacks. If they ensnare a caster or ranged specialist, they clumsily launch themselves into the air to outrange any potential rescuers. Test morale at half HP. If they can't escape a losing fight, they fake death and wait for attackers to lose interest.
▶ Surprise: On a 1-3 among cacti, due to resembling a normal plant.
▶ Detaching: Requires a hit with a cutting weapon inflicting 5 or more damage.
Jesse Balmer
▶ Superior Infravision: Senses anything giving off body heat within 300'. Immune to illusions.
Autochthonous tribe of nomadic herdsmen, descended from the same ethnic stock as the Urn Mummies. Effectively carnivorous, the nomads sustain themselves on herds of Monotaurs and the ritualised exocannibalism of enemy combatants. They metabolise all the heavy metals in their diets by converting them into iron-rich hyperkeratosis. Believing it a gift from their patron deity Old Man Flint, all adult Scorchlanders learn how to strike these blackened calluses together to create sparks.
The tribals have a vague recollection of the Elder Things in their oral histories. They enter the dungeon ostensibly to stop foreigners despoiling it, but immediately get sidetracked looting it for treasure. Though distrustful of adventurers, they might agree to an uneasy alliance out of desperation. This doesn't extend to Gnolls, who they kill on sight.
Stats as Nomad (OSE). Armed with heavy throwing darts, single-edged swords, and crude muzzleloaders. These "thumblocks" are operated without a firing mechanism, the musketeers spark their callused digits against the touchhole to ignite the powder. Often accompanied by a warrior shaman, who makes liberal use of fire magic. Stats as Pyromancer (Monster Overhaul).
A seething mass of primordial flesh. The greatest and most terrible invention of the Elder Things. In many colonies, slave revolts have freed the Shoggoths from their mental conditioning. Mercifully, this specimen is still loyal to its insane creators. The gigantic ooze is content to act as a biological maintenance technician for the dungeon; excreting a pseudo-concrete to repair any structural damage and gobbling up any contaminants that enter the bunker complex through R1.
The protoplasm can be distracted by throwing rations on the ground for it to hoover up. It can also be hidden from, assuming there's enough nearby cover and the party isn't leaving a blood trail. Upon consuming 10 HD worth of creatures, it beelines to R14 to excrete the waste products. Thankfully, the monstrosity is too heavy to haul itself out of the dungeon, not that it would ever want to.
▶ Many-Eyed: Like Argus Panoptes, the Shoggoth is covered in a mat of twitching eyeballs. It is only surprised on a roll of 1, and cannot be backstabbed.
▶ Suffocation: Those struck must Save vs Paralysis or be dragged into the Shoggoth's bulk and suffocated in 2d4 rounds. The victim can only be freed if the Shoggoth is killed.
Kobold Press
These canine merchants later founded the Laughing Men, a confraternity of the Mothermilk religion dedicated to the national rebirth of dog-headed men. They propagandise that Gnolls were once rulers of noble pastoralist empires, sating their obligate carnivorism on herds of wisent, mouflons, and aurochs. They blame agrarianism for the plight of their people, tiling the land with fences and fields and berms, driving them into the humiliation of subsistence hunting.
In search of Lebensraum for a pastoralist ethnostate, the Laughing Men have begun a mass migration into the Rust Basin. To their eyes it is the Promised Land, a harsh land where crops do not grow and man must rely on the flesh of beasts to survive. They just have to eat anyone who was living there first.
Stats as Gnoll (OSE), though they're not all hyena men. Jackals, dingoes, painted dogs, wolves, and coyotes can all be found among their ranks. Armed with modern rifled muskets. Skirmish at extreme range, abusing their superior speed to outmaneuver enemies. Their powerful jaws can crunch through metal and bone, letting them quickly transition to melee without fumbling for a bayonet or sidearm.
The Elder Things kept their jarred soldiers in reserve, like a biological terracotta army. But when the Mi-Go wiped them out, the immortals started running out of preservatives. Unsurprisingly, they began cannibalising one another, gradually whittling down a battalion-sized force to around a dozen mummies.
The Urn Mummies are half-naked and draped in soaking wet linens. Their skin is stained a rich green, the men among them nurse painfully priapic erections. The slimy fluid coating their skin and wrappings is an acid that predigests the flesh of their victims. They speak proto-Lawful and can negotiate with co-aligned characters, but interactions are always coloured by their extreme paranoia and thanatophobia.
▶ Urn: Immune to any damage short of Disintegration while hiding inside. A closed urn can be forced open like a stuck door with an appropriate lever. Each attempt takes a dungeon turn's effort.
▶ Fire: Disables regeneration for 1d4 dungeon turns.
The Hunting Cacti, Monotaurs and Urn Mummies were taken from the same ShutteredRoom post as the last two scenarios, but the rest of the creatures are my own inclusions. My inspiration for including a ludicrously overpowered Mythos monster came from Mellonbread's Cthulhu dungeon. The name of the Scorchlanders is from the Kenshi video game, though they deviate massively in terms of culture.
This scenario is absolutely not suitable for low-level parties. And I think that's OK. The OSR is filled with excellent starter adventures, but there's an increasing dearth of content as you go up in levels. If you're playing OSE or its derivatives, this dungeon should be appropriate for a level 6+ party.
I think this might be it for my Mythic Outback, for the time being. The music post is half-finished, so I may release that sometime soon. I'm also tempted to create some mid-level pregenerated characters so I can actually playtest some of these scenarios. I do have ideas for more dungeons, but with the annual Shotgun Contest coming up I'll be focusing on writing Delta Green content.
Stay tuned!
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