Typhonian Reach

Player Characters

Ama: Ama, the Sun of Yayoi

Anka: Anka, the Widow

Illuminous: Illuminous the Arcane, Master of the Healing Flame

Pars: Pars, the Smith of Gath

Taarlak: Taarlak Vaar, the Grandmaster of Tolundria

Factions - PC

Citadel of Learning (lordmcdeath) (Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP 0, Dominion 2) By all rights the city-state recently renamed the Citadel of Learning should be the most powerful entity on the continent. Sitting at the mouth where the Father Torrent and Nin-Sish Rivers mingle and rush through the Alluvial Deltas, the Citadel is the natural gateway between the river civilizations of Nin, Neb, Zin; the rest of the continent; and the archipelago beyond.

But woe has befallen the city in recent years. The lugals who ruled the city were slothful, vice-ridden, and neglectful, thinking the river's bounty was theirs by right. Slowly, over the years, troubles beset them.

First, a tribe of near savages, the Scylaxi, wrested control of Great Pincer Bay from the city, choking off trade not only to the city itself by the entire fertile valley region.

Then strange events began occurring in the abandoned ruins between the city and the ancient, swamp-submerged settlement of E-adish. Raids by bandits and even the long-legendary bullu-gug... the degenerate man-frogs of the elder world... ravaged the city's surrounding fields. Fear blanketed the settlements nearest to old E-adish; whispers arose of strange prophets urging renunciation of the old Laws in favor of obeisances to something called "The Devourer." Ill stars appeared in the heavens, pestilence ravaged the city, and people clutched their amulets against what seemed to be an unending plague of misfortune.

The people, desperate, decided to fight sorcery with sorcery. When the outlander mage Illuminous appeared in the city, working miracles, invoking the mantle of divinity, claiming to have the answers to the city's problems, the people rose up and overthrew the lugals. Illuminous was anointed ruler, but he immediately delegated rule to a council of hand-picked viziers, the Order of the Healing Flame.

Even so, life improved. The Order began beating back the pestilence, rooting out evil and purging impurity with flame. Schools were opened, not merely to the children of the high and the wealthy, but to all.

Illuminous, though, had important work to do. Restoring the city to greatness would be among his tasks, but this would be a consequence of his greater plan.

Gath (EnigmaticOne) (Power 2 Cohesion 2 Action Die 1d8, XP 0, Dominion 2) The people of Gath reside in the north of the archipelago known as Typhon’s Wake, built into the foothills of the Zakros mountain range. Three different volcanoes exist within the chain, known in order of greatest to least size as: the King-Peak of Fire, the Lady-Peak of Fire, and the Child-Peak of Fire. The brooding volcanoes offer peril but also bounty: Copper ore and obsidian practically spill forth from the slopes to anoint the people of Gath, while the rich ash-nurtured soil gifts Gath’s farmers with abundance, including lush grapes for the making of amaranth wines treasured throughout the region.

Despite the fire of its mountains and the fire of its wines, what blazes brightest in Gath is the genius of Pars, its demigod prodigy-smith. Pars’ craftsmanship and inventive mind are inspiring a similar interest in Gath’s population.

Tolundria (CowboyEnergy) (Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP 0, Dominion 2) In the mountains to the south of the great alluvial deltas stands a great peak of jagged granite, gazing contemptuously over the soft lowlands at its horizon. The farmers below make obeisance to the mountain, calling it Tolu-Gal, the Rock of Kings. And atop this peak dwell a people as hard as the rock of their home, as fierce as the gyre-hawks and gryphons of the surrounding range. Under the tutelage of the warmaster Tarlaak Vaar, these proud fighters test themselves against the unforgiving mountain, to become as stone, to break or be broken.

This is Tolundria, stranger. For your sake, may you come in peace.

The Tribes and the Tomb Lords (Marikir) (Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP 0, Dominion 2)

They only called themselves the Tribes. A loose collection of families, led by a council of wisemen, the Tribes were once a migratory society. They moved from area to area, seeking food, shelter, and other necessities. But, tales told at night around the campfires spoke of the Menace; the event or thing that had driven them out decades before. They did not follow a set path through the land, no. For if they did, the Menace would find them. No, they were the Tribes and to survive, they moved ever onward. Always moving onward.

Until the Winter.

They were known as the Tomb Lords. A society of humans dwelling in ruins and ancient septs carved into the living mountains they called home. It was a mountain full of ancient tombs and the Tomb Lords, as they came to be known, lived and dwelled here, eking out a meager existence through trade and service. What service you ask? The service of internment. They learned how to handle the dead in all manner of ways. Burial, cremation, sky, water, all manner of ways of dealing with a mortal form no longer inhabited by life. A society of morticians. They were silent, observing all, never becoming involved.

Until the Winter.

The Winter brought the Tribes to the doorstep of the Tomb Lords. A hasty agreement was made. The Tribes could camp near and shelter from the worst of the weather, but only for that Winter. Trade between them was good and sustained both. All the while, the Tomb Lords watched, silent.

Until the White Death came.

The plague swept through the Tribes, causing massive loss of life. Unable to resist the ravages of the disease, many thousands died. The Tomb Lords did what they could, but the chaos and confustion wrought by the disease spread fear among the Tribes; fear of the strangers who came to claim their dead. To the Tomb Lords, there was no question. Who better to deal with the dead bodies? They had a many lifetimes's experience at this. But the tension grew and grew until it was about to burst into spilled blood.

Until the Widow awoke.

One of the many victims of the White Death, a wife and mother of the Tribes, the Widow awoke from her death to a new life. With a sudden command over Death, Life, and Disease, she swept the White Death from her people. She moved among them, all vestiges of the plague driven before her. And in her Rising, the Tomb Lords saw a glimpse of the Divine; a glimpse of Death, personified.

Now, two societies, neither whole alone, find themselves at a crossroads. The Tomb Lords see the Tribes as possessing a being of Divine Death. The Tribes, long wanderers, can no longer leave this place. They must settle here, using the gifts of the newly awoken Widow to discover the sciences of farming and planting. They do not know what will befall them now. But some of the very few surviving elders whisper a name...and wonder when, not if, but when the Menace will come for them.

Yayoi (Jeremy Kopcynski) (Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8) The island-dwelling Yayoi are a people in transition. Formerly foragers, they have recently discovered the arts of farming and bronze working. Besides the cultivated fields fishing is a major source of nutrition and also of superstitions as they brave the dangerous seas.

They are organized into several matrilineal clans and have recently begun to develop an elaborate social hierarchy based on personal honor and achievement. Politically Yayoi is a chiefdom and has recently elevated the high priestess-turned-demigoddess Ama to lead them.

In matters of religion they are led by priestesses and shamans who attempt to serve as intercessors between the people and anything viewed as supernatural. Until very recently, sacrifices of the high priestess was common.

Factions - NPC

Ashada, City of the Bitumen Kings (hex 66.10) (Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP 0 [for purposes of measuring Power advancement], Dominion 2) Amid the Bone Sinks, where not even vultures go, the barren ground cracks like the face of a hierodule past their prime. The remains of monstrous beasts litter the desolation, participants in or victims of some elder war. Yet from the wounds that gouge the earth bubbles up the stinking black tar that has so enriched those with the fortitude to make the Bone Sinks their own. Bitumen: In the hands of skilled engineer-savants it serves purposes ranging from construction to fiery war.

The fractious oligarchs that jointly rule Ashada were no more than junior merchants, speculators, or less savory things before their rise, but their wealth has made them forget their station, and so they style themselves as Kings. There is little majestic about the trade in slaves bought as needed and sent to work the pits. They grow encrusted and befouled with the stuff, and they sicken and die within 18 moons, but that is the lot of slaves. And after all, it is only right that the pits be fed with those who work them, in payment to the bitumen-spirits for the extraction.

So, while Ashada is black and ugly and reeks of the underworld, within its asphalt walls are many beautiful things come to satisfy the urges and pleasures of the Kings.

Kainiso (hex 40.33) (Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP [for purposes of measuring advancement] 0, Dominion 2): Building their resplendent palaces atop the Cyclopean ruins of what they deem to have been their gigantic ancestors, the people of this land refer to their city-state as Kainiso. Expert navigators who pay tribute to the Nereid Queen in exchange for her blessing, they sail as far as the mainland, trading olive oil and their elegant pottery while facilitating commerce between archipelago and continent. Kainiso has set up several colonies on outlying islands, and the city is arguably the known world’s supreme naval power.

The Locust Tribes (nomadic) (Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP 0 [for purposes of measuring Power advancement], Dominion 2) Angels of desolation, the merciless, insatiable Locust Tribes ravage the east. Where the Locust Tribes overrun, nothing is left: that which is not taken is ritually destroyed, those who are not slain are left to face starvation.

Formerly a cluster of marginalized nomads, escaped slaves, and failed brigands forced into the unforgiving alkali barrens of Gepesh, the desperate pariahs of a hundred settlements have coalesced under Zum-Zum the Glutton, prophet of the ancient arthropod-god Girtab: Father-Mother of locusts, mantids, scorpions, and all stinging rapacious things.

The Tribes' raids are spearheaded by the cult’s most fanatical marauders. Giving themselves the ancient epithet of “thri-kreen,” or “hunger swarm,” these braves intoxicate themselves on blue mantis flesh and scorpion venom before launching their cannibalistic atrocities.

Ni Xhin, the City of Poets (hex 62.23) (Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP [for purposes of measuring advancement] 0, Dominion 2): At the headwaters of the Eight Serpent River, the city of Ni Xhin grows fat on trade of millet and abalones. A former collection of market villages, since the Scylaxi invasion has inhibited the alluvial cities’ coastal trade Ni Xhin has replaced them as as the predominant hub of continental trade – a position its nouveau riche trading houses have every intention of keeping. Although the houses hold the bulk of economic power, Ni Xhin’s ruler is its Oracle-Queen, who reads the signs found in fire, bones, and abalone shells to guide the city to luck and prosperity. The oracular signs have become the beginning of a system of ideographic writing, which in turn has led local artists favored by the great houses to begin composing written as well as oral works.

The Scylax People (hexes 64.27 and 64.29) (Power 2, Cohesion 2, Action Die 1d8, XP 0, Dominion 2) Divided between two garrison-towns, Xyph and Xyll, the Scylax People hold the straits enclosing the vital Great Pincer Bay that allows traffic between the Nin-Sish/Father Torrent Rivers and the coasts beyond. They are well aware of their dominant position and charge an exorbitant, at times obscene, tariff to merchants passing in and out. Many traders curse the Scylaxi and would do much to see them humbled.

Unseating them will be no mean feat. They name themselves after the scylax (dire mantis shrimp), the colorful but savage crustaceans whose seasonal migratory swarms ravage the nearby coast and in whose presence even makara and megalodon swim warily. A Scylaxi is not a citizen unless he or she, naked and armed only with a net and a single javelin, hunts and kills their namesake beast. This being done, the Scylaxi have somehow mastered a marvelous means of removing and treating the psychedelically colored carapace, harpoon-darts, and pincers to make armor of uncanny hardness and weapons of surpassing viciousness. Each Scylaxi citizen is given a customized panoply made from the beast he or she killed -- and as would-be ousters have learned to their chagrin, the Scylaxi are quite adept with those unusual weapons.

No great workers in stone, the Scylaxi use some of their usurious taxation to hire mason-engineers from more cultured peoples; Xyph and Xyll are expertly fortified and, once dug in, the Scylaxi are as hard to crack as their totem beast itself.

Other Locations of Note

Map: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1XM_zCm8gCuYlpqSmVsSHNycDA/view

Gazetteer Notes/Brain-Scribble: Typhonian Reach Gazetteer

Neb-E-Theq of the Twin Grains (hex 74.28)

Neb-E-Theq's great fortune is also its curse. The city occupies a transitional zone where changing salinity levels allow harvesting of both barley and emmer wheat. As such, the clans of Neb-E-Theq have grown adept in the brewing of a vast variety of beers, and the other cities of Neb (as well as strangers from Nin, Zin, and even beyond) make pilgrimages to take part in Neb-E-Theq’s festivals and drink of its bounteous beers.

Yet within Neb-E-Theq trouble... pardon the pun... brews. The Barley Clans stoutly maintain that only beer made in the traditional way, using the barley mandated by the Fixed Sign itself, is true beer, while the elitist Wheat Clans look down their noses at what they consider an outdated brew. Additionally, even within the two factions, continuous infighting occurs over whose specific recipe is superior. Meanwhile, both factions resent the lugal-queen who wishes to funnel the booming beer trade through the palace.

And recently, frightful whispers spread among the people that Queen Lurshaba dislikes beer, drinking it only desultorily at ritual functions and in private preferring the outland beverage of... wine.

E-adish, the Sacred City of the Stelae, Now Abandoned (hex 60.33 – formerly 60.34, but I’m moving it to tie into Illuminous’ faction)

Tales passed down from before writing fell from Heaven claim this was the first human city, founded on the banks of the life-giving Nin-Sish. For as far back as forefathers remembered, it dominated the delta. From E-adish arose its greatest and last ruler, the Queen of Queens, Bab-Shet-Gur-Shum the Inexorable, First and Last of Her Name, Victor over the Bullu-Gug.

It was Bab-Shet-Gur-Shum who conquered the lower delta and took the idols of other lugals to her House. It was Bab-Shet-Gur-Shum who called the Thousand Scribes to renounce sorcery and instead to unite the disparate Glyphs into a single written language, and then to found houses of learning. And having done this, Bab-Shet-Gur-Shum had porphyry and chalcedony and malachite brought from the mountains to the south, so that the cities' greatest mason-scribes could erect her Stelae: great pillars on which was carved Bab-Shet-Gur-Shum's Law. One Law for all the cities: harsh and inegalitarian, but clear and applicable to all under Heaven.

Yet Bab-Shet-Gur-Shum was not content with rule over men and women. She boldly proclaimed atop her ziggurat-palace that her Law applied even to the Nin-Sish itself. The Queen of Rivers would bend to Bab-Shet-Gur-Shum.

And so it was that all Three Comets appeared in the heavens. The Nin-Sish flooded Her banks, drowning the city and the Stelae and proud Bab-Shet-Gur-Shum. And then the very course of the Nin-Sish changed, renouncing E-adish to reconcile with Father Torrent: for if mortals would not show Her respect, then She would go back to Her mate who would. E-adish was left in mucky ruin, its irrigation ditches overrun with scum in which flies and frogs swarmed. No one dares to resettle, and so it lies amid the silty mire, a festering pit rumored to be haunted by all manner of unnatural things.

NPCs of Note

Demigods

Abnash: A mad eremite from the Desolation of Gebel, he has no home but wanders where he will. Ill fortune follows in his wake.

Belet the Astrologer: The Wise of Nin-Sekeb must be afforded their privileges, but even so the city's great clans are taken aback to see this girl, not yet 18 summers, with the shaven head of a Heaven Seer, instructing their councils of the mighty in the movements of fixed and wandering stars.

Phaisip, the Nereid Queen: Splendid in pearls, nacre, and iridescent scales, she occasionally advises the burgeoning naval power of Kainiso, but spends more of her time sporting with dolphins and her triton* subjects in the sea-foam. She rules her undersea domain from a magnificent coral palace amid the colorful reefs of her homeland, where she hears petitions from land- and sea-dwellers alike.

• Triton/nereid: Human with the Common Talent Water Adaptation.

Monsters

Ogres

Savage, degenerate, superstitious, and primitive, ogres lurk in small bands in the wilderness. They retain their ancestors' height (9-10') and strength, but the devil-kings' beauty has become ugliness and their intellect devolved to bestial rage. Prone to bouts of madness, killing and eating one another as readily as anything else, ogres are congenitally incapable of large-scale organization or planning; this gives smaller, weaker humans a fighting chance against the brutes. Despite their reduced mental state, they dimly remember what they once were... and what humanity was. And they hate. Woe to the human who falls into their clutches.

HD 4, AC 6 (hides + tough skin), Attack +6 (strong), Damage 1d8 +2 (strong), Morale 9 (savage but superstitious), Save 14+ (accursed - worse than normal), Move 30' run, Effort 1

Ogres commonly form Mobs; they are strong and ferocious enough to threaten even demigods and so have the Overwhelm ability.

Anakim (Ogre Magi)

Ancestors of the ogres, anakim were the first anthropoids to arise and challenge the monsters of the Elder World... though they were little less monstrous. In form they were near perfect: towering ur-hominids of sinister, satanic beauty, muscular and graceful (Araki's Pillar Men from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure mixed with Milton's Satan gives an idea). Combining unholy strength, magical might, and devious cunning, they beat back the declining elder prehumans, bound many lesser demons to service, made pacts with many leviathans, and carved out great holdings across the ancient world. Basically Moorcock's Melnibone or Howard's Acheron.

Yet in character they were cruel, decadent, arrogant, sadistic. Trusting their own kind but little (with good reason), engaging in vicious feuds and rivalries, they preferred to keep apart, each small cabal of devil-kings building its holdings on the backs of lesser primates raised as slaves. Practicing sorcery, breeding bizarre hybrid beasts, and trafficking with demons and leviathans, anakim sought ever greater power and knowledge: over their fellows, over the elder beast-gods, and most of all over life and death. Lacking the greater leviathans' divinity and immortality, they craved these things, and their laboratories echoed with the screams of their lesser kindred on whom they performed experiment after unholy experiment.

Their society destroyed itself in the Collapse; whatever they unleashed twisted the entire species, devolving them physically and mentally into the race of ogres. Only 1 in 100 ogre births produces a new anak. Intelligent enough to know the numbers no longer favor them, anakim lord over their brutish descendants as god-kings or, cloaked in illusion, walk among humans, undermining the new dominant species from within.

Common Anak: HD 8, AC 4 (medium armor, skill), Attack +10 x2 attacks, Damage 1d12, Morale 10, Save 11+, Move 30' run/45' flight, Effort 3. They have the powers attributed to AD&D ogre mages, but these are low-magic effects of limited use against a demigod.

Devil-King/Queen: An anak whose soul is sufficiently mighty to bear a spark of divinity. While they lack the sheer capability of human demigods (few have more than two Words, and they gain no benefit from cults except a boost to their overweening egos), they make up for it with power and malice. Each is built differently, but at a minimum you're looking at a splice of the Twisted Ogre (p. 151) and Greater Eldritch (p. 148) templates: 20+ HD, flight, 1d12 straight-damage melee and magic attacks, and usually some Sorcery and Deception Gifts plus a mystic Corona of Fury attack.

The Spawn of Yoji-Pang

Many leviathans cast their seed upon or took into themselves what they would, but none were so… energetic… as Yoji-Pang, the Abundant Lingam. A colossal, towering… (take an AD&D roper, splice it in whatever ways you care, or don’t care, to imagine with Revenge of the Overfiend, give it the Fertility Word, and grow it to 60’ tall)… Yoji-Pang was surprisingly popular among certain anak cliques of especial decadence. What transpired is best left unwritten.

What cannot be unmentioned is the fact that, while Yoji-Pang is little known in the current epoch, His spawn were of sufficient number and variety to plague the latter world.

Spawn of Yoji-Pang: I’m using Carcosa’s Spawn of Shub-Niggurath tables, which repurpose to Godbound with little effort.

Lesser Lingams (especially favored Spawn): AD&D ropers massaged to work for Godbound.

The Spawn of Calyx

The anakim of the old world feared, rightly, Calyx the Triple Hunger and gave her human slaves in tribute to sate her gluttony. What exactly She did with these humans is unknown, but in latter days monstrous abhumans have been seen in the wilderness, humans mixed with the animal type of one of Calyx's three heads. Those born of Calyx's saberlyon and goat heads are all male, while those born of her drakaina head are all female. Especially given these creatures' proclivity for ambushing and abducting travelers, the question of how such single-gender creatures reproduce is a matter best left unprobed.

While dangerous to humans, such creatures are of little threat to a demigod and for the most part use the Minor Misbegotten stats. More powerful ones might have better stats and appropriate troperiffic powers: e.g., satyr-type stuff for goat-men, medusa-ish abilities or poison breath for drakaina-women, etc.

The Five Sphinxes and Their Spawn

Creatures of the Elder Epoch that survived into modern times, the Sphinxes are thought to be horrible crossbreeds of anak and leviathan or anakim who infused leviathan flesh into themselves. They are enormous (house sized) creatures with the faces of beautiful anakim; bodies resembling crosses between saberfangs and dragons; and four feathered or leathery wings. Named for their coloration, there are five: Carnelian, Porphyry, Malachite, Alabaster, Onyx. All are supremely wise and erudite creatures who know many secrets of the elder world and impart their knowledge and advice to mortals, for a price. This price often seems innocuous and equally often leads to ruin for the mortal or the nearby nation, a fact in which the Sphinxes seem to delight.

Equally often, the Sphinxes will play the classic sphinx-game of "I'll tell you what you want to know if you solve my riddle, otherwise I eat you."

Sphinx: Somewhere between a Greater and Master Eldritch but with potent physical attacks to back up the magic.

Lamias and Manticores: The Sphinxes have spawned many offspring or created them from mortals who fail in their dealings with the Sphinxes. Male offspring are manticores (savage creatures with human heads, saberfang bodies, wings, and spike-flinging tails); females are lamias (head and upper torso of woman, body of a beast). These are adapted largely straight from the AD&D Monster Manual.

Astrology and Celestial Bodies

In the Upper Alluvial Plain is Nin-Sekeb, atop whose ziggurats the Wise cast their eyes upon the heavens. And this they say:

Of the Sun

The Sun is ardent, ever pursuing the Moon, which spurns the Sun's unwelcome heat. It is portended that the Sun has tired of the vain suit and casts eyes among the nations, taking brides and grooms from mortals fair of form and spirit.

Of the Moon

The Moon is vain and overfond of raiment, trying on and casting off dress and jewels and pigments in this manner: Purple, Blue, Bronze, Yellow, Silver, Scarlet, Green, Indigo, Copper, Gold, White, Coral.

Of the Eclipse

Sorcerers say that Typhon's mate, who went into the Tehom and so is called Tehom-Maat, reaches Her five maws from the Outer Waters in which She is trapped, and She would swallow the Sun or Moon that She might strengthen Herself upon its light and free herself from the dark Beyond. Yet ere She can do this thing, the Demons of the Tehom draw Her back once more.

Of the Three Comets

There is Notok-Tha, the White Comet, which portends the birth of marvels and monsters. Look not upon Her.

There is Notok-Ku, the Red Comet, which prophesies the coming of kings and queens. Cast thyself upon thy face, lest the eyes of kings and queens fall upon thee.

There is Notok-Zeb-Gul, the Green Comet, which bringeth lamentation upon the nations. Take up a goat that has not yet seen three moons and offer it to Notok-Zeb-Gul, lest thy kin have cause to lament thee.

Of the Seven Wandering Stars

Of wandering stars there are seven, and they are named:

• Yin, of the Near Circumference, That Delighteth in Laughter

• Yom, of the Near Circumference, That Delighteth in Virtue

• Yok, of the Near Circumference, That Delighteth in Wickedness

• Yan, of the Middle Circumference, That Delighteth in Violence

• Yish, of the Middle Circumference, That Delighteth in Wisdom

• Yeb, of the Distant Circumference, That Delighteth in Falsehood

• Far Yug, of which naught is known

The hierodules of each Wanderer wed themselves to their star, and to those who seeketh them out for congress they offer their star’s Delight.

Of the Fixed Signs

There are twelve fixed Signs: Sword, Sea-Goat, Scorpion, Vulture-Ox, Crowned Child, Beer-Barley, Ziggurat, Gryphon, Makara, Scylax, Vessel, Chariot. The Blasphemers who dwell in Ah-Mut claim the Ape was once among their number, but that he played a Trick and the other Signs cast him down.

Of the Fallen Signs

It is known that betimes a Sign grows weary of its endless course and falls in fire upon the earth. Go not upon the great pits where such marvels lie, for the metal being of Signs is wondrous hard yet sickens those who draw near it. None now have the secret of its working, though heroes betimes take up marvelous weapons made of this metal, forged in ancient days and borne by giant-kings of old.

Some doubt these tales, but who would gainsay the Wise?

[Note: Characters with the Night Greater Gift A Darkness at Noon can set the entire night sky to their preference.]

Calendar

The year is divided into twelve moons of 30 days each: Purple, Blue, Bronze (Spring); Yellow, Silver, Scarlet (Summer); Green, Indigo, Copper (Autumn); Gold, White, Coral (Winter).

There are also (1d8 – 2) days each year, diced for randomly, when one or more Comets appear in the skies. These inauspicious days are not considered part of the normal calendar. On a Comet Day, I roll 1d6: 1-3, one Comet; 4-5, two Comets; 6, all three Comets.

Comet Days are not good. I’m not talking “rocks fall, everyone dies” not good, but more like “milk curdles, the farmer in the field is stung by an adder, discord falls upon the house” flavor-y stuff. Demigods are largely above such generalized ill fortune, but I reserve the right to throw a few minor save penalties on those days – say, a single -1 penalty per Comet in the sky. If I’m rolling on a random table for upcoming events, Comet Days tend to force some of the less pleasant results.

Interactions with Gifts

Luck: Miracles of Luck can negate some or all of the effects of Comet Days.

Night: A Darkness at Noon can set the night sky to taste and may invoke Comets once per year, though the invoker has no control over what is unleashed. This does not actually advance the calendar, just changes the overall look and feel, which in an age of general superstition is a pretty good psyop.

Sorcery: Some specific theurgic invocations discoverable in game are tied to certain celestial conjunctions. In general, an invocation restricted in this manner is considered one level higher: so an Invocation of the Throne that can be performed on only a handful of days per year could be bought as an Invocation of the Way. I’m open to this rule munchkin-combo-ing with A Darkness at Noon one time per calendar year, but such strong magic requires two different magic-workers: one to set the night sky, another to cast the spell.

Time: I’m open to a miracle of Time moving the calendar forward or back by one day, say once per year. This does not undo or cause a past or future event, merely changes the actual day.

Languages

Humanity being only a few centuries old, all humans still speak a variant of the old anak slave-tongue. By now, dispersal has made some accents and dialects nigh unintelligible, but the Tower of Babel has not quite yet fallen. If a human tongue is really far removed from the main source, I might call for an Intelligence check.

Most of the prehumans had their own languages, which some sorcerers and scholars have unearthed. Also, the spirits, elementals, and other Powers of the world sometimes have their own secret languages. Finally, the burgeoning cults and secret societies in the cities sometimes develop their own cipher-tongues for use among themselves. (Fact to be able to decipher 2 + Intelligence bonus unusual tongues if you’ve run across them, or automatic if it’s appropriate from another Fact: e.g., Illuminos is going to know what he needs to know to function as a sorcerer.)

Those with Command, like Ama, can of course speak to and understand all sapient beings.