As I mentioned previously, I'm going to be transporting some of the material I generated over on my Secret Antiquities blog to the Society so as to compile all my game designs under a single roof. This is the first of such transfers.
For almost two years I've been working on a new campaign setting that contains all the weirdness I enjoy and which would allow me to run nearly any form of role-playing adventure I might set my mind to. I've been using Goblinoid Games' free GORE system as the rule frame to build upon and have had a few play tests of that material. Tentatively entitled The October Country for the time being, I remain committed to one day compiling this setting, its inhabitants, and various new rules and systems into a single tome to share with other interested folks. The October Country mixes fantasy, "screampunk", conspiracy, Wild West, and other high weirdness in one delightful soup of a setting. I've purposely peopled it with unusual monsters that don't always conform to your usual fantasy expectations. Most of the recent material and play tests all revolve around the city of Midnight located on the edge of the Snakewater Swamp, an October Country analog for the Louisiana bayous and 18th century New Orleans. Let's meet one of the residents of the October Country now:
Out in the Snakewater Swamp are small hamlets inhabited by a race of green-skinned, violent, and stupid creatures known as Boglins. These vicious little brutes make their living by scavenging, banditry, and the brewing of “bug juice”, a potent liquor made from ingredients best not asked about. Although small in stature and dim-witted, Boglins have a knack for simple devices and can jury-rigged rifles and shotguns from the assorted trash they find, small items they steal, and the occasional horn of black powder they swap bug juice for. This talent, combined with their clannish nature and remote villages, make Boglins a persistent menace in the Snakewater. Those traveling into the backwaters of the swamp should be careful, as Boglins often ambush travelers on remote bayas, rising up from the murky waters to attack unexpectedly.
For almost two years I've been working on a new campaign setting that contains all the weirdness I enjoy and which would allow me to run nearly any form of role-playing adventure I might set my mind to. I've been using Goblinoid Games' free GORE system as the rule frame to build upon and have had a few play tests of that material. Tentatively entitled The October Country for the time being, I remain committed to one day compiling this setting, its inhabitants, and various new rules and systems into a single tome to share with other interested folks. The October Country mixes fantasy, "screampunk", conspiracy, Wild West, and other high weirdness in one delightful soup of a setting. I've purposely peopled it with unusual monsters that don't always conform to your usual fantasy expectations. Most of the recent material and play tests all revolve around the city of Midnight located on the edge of the Snakewater Swamp, an October Country analog for the Louisiana bayous and 18th century New Orleans. Let's meet one of the residents of the October Country now:
Out in the Snakewater Swamp are small hamlets inhabited by a race of green-skinned, violent, and stupid creatures known as Boglins. These vicious little brutes make their living by scavenging, banditry, and the brewing of “bug juice”, a potent liquor made from ingredients best not asked about. Although small in stature and dim-witted, Boglins have a knack for simple devices and can jury-rigged rifles and shotguns from the assorted trash they find, small items they steal, and the occasional horn of black powder they swap bug juice for. This talent, combined with their clannish nature and remote villages, make Boglins a persistent menace in the Snakewater. Those traveling into the backwaters of the swamp should be careful, as Boglins often ambush travelers on remote bayas, rising up from the murky waters to attack unexpectedly.
Boglins average 4’ to 5’ in height and weigh between 100 and
125 lbs, although certain “bosses” grow much bigger (and have their own separate
entry). Boglins tend to dress in either homespun clothes or the oversized
garments taken from their victims. Duster coats, wide-brimmed hats, and clunky
shoes are popular Boglin fashion, as is any item of clothing made from gator
skin.
It is said that Boglins have distant relatives in the
mountains who eke out a similar life in the hollers and dark forests that
punctuate the hills. Known as Hoglins, these repulsive cousins keep semi-tamed
hogs as attack animals, beasts of burden, and, some whisper, share a common
gene pool with the porcine creatures.
Boglins
STR:
3d6 (10-11)
CON: 2d6+6 (13)
SIZ: 2d6 (7)
INT: 2d6 (7)
POW: 3d6 (10-11)
DEX: 4d6 (14)
CON: 2d6+6 (13)
SIZ: 2d6 (7)
INT: 2d6 (7)
POW: 3d6 (10-11)
DEX: 4d6 (14)
Average
hit points: 10
Move: 7
Other skills: Baya Lore-55%, Boating-80%, Conceal-86%, Craft (scavenge-tech)-65%, Dodge-55%, Language (Patois)-85%, Move Silently-75%, Notice-70%, Survival-85%, Swimming-90%. Some have Mechanick Arts-65% or Elemental Magic-50%
Move: 7
Other skills: Baya Lore-55%, Boating-80%, Conceal-86%, Craft (scavenge-tech)-65%, Dodge-55%, Language (Patois)-85%, Move Silently-75%, Notice-70%, Survival-85%, Swimming-90%. Some have Mechanick Arts-65% or Elemental Magic-50%
Damage
Modifier: -1d2
Attacks
Shotgun or Rifle: 65%--4d6/2d6/1d6 or 1d6+2
Club: 60%--1d6
Bite: 50%--1d4 damage
Shotgun or Rifle: 65%--4d6/2d6/1d6 or 1d6+2
Club: 60%--1d6
Bite: 50%--1d4 damage
Bug
Juice: This swamp liquor will either get the drinker drunk as a skunk or kill
them, so it’s best sampled by those with a death wish. A 4 oz. drink of bug
juice affects the drinker depending on his CON score and the potency of the
stuff. To determine the lethal threshold of the drink, the referee rolls 2d6+1
prior to consumption. Any creature with a CON score less than or equal to the
result of that roll must immediately make a CONx5 roll or suffer 1d6+1 damage
for 1d3 rounds.
Creatures
with CON scores above the bug juice’s potency roll are affected less severely
and need only make a successful Opposition Roll against the liquor’s potency
score each time they consume a drink. Failing even a single check renders them
extremely intoxicated. Those drunk on bug juice suffer a -10 penalty on their
strike rank and all skills are halved for the duration of the drunkenness,
which lasts 2d10 hours.
4 comments:
Your setting sounds like a lot of fun, and I dig the hillbilly goblin concept, but the name sent me into an 80's flashback!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pcor3EbCnP4
I never noticed this the first time around, but are they "viscous little brutes" or "vicious little brutes"?
Living in the bayou - either might apply... ;)
Jon
I have no recollection of those things, and unless I get a C&D from somebody, I stand by my boglins.
Typo noted and corrected.
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