This is Part 0.5 of 8 of the first WTF Expedition RPG Pointcrawl. You can get the whole Part 1, v2, here. This is a teaser for the full Patreon-supported series, which you are totally welcome to support (and follow).
The Graceful Cats of the Violet Citadel
“Soyez tranquil,” murmurs the dead-eyed lady in P.T.’s mind. Horned cats creep from hazy alleys and examine their baggage. The citadel looms, eerie and obnoxious, beyond the haze layer.Finally, a black cat nods, and the lady steps aside. The townships beckon and the party strides into the stall-strewn streets.
- Green-blood shock-peddler Mencia pays for tales and pictures of the “Wonders of the West” (double exploration XP for well-written, illustrated accounts)
- Woger de R.F.D., a reputable mustachioed adventurer-merchant, is taking a free caravan of vampire wines and livingstone bricks to the Last Serai to trade directly with the Spectrum Satraps (200 XP and cash on safe arrival).
- Natega the Kind sells original ointments, shoddy shoes and downright dangerous gear at reasonable prices, but her Red Cat meows Charm Person at travelers. There have been inconclusive investigations in the past (her supplies deplete on a 1–4, but cost only 8 cash per step).
- A scared urchin runs into the street, shouting “a cat tried to worm into my mouth!” She will integrate into society and become a cat pet soon. Her name is Uda, for now.
- A sunburned man with pink hair staggers out of an inn, cruelly stabbed, sprays crimson bubbles and groans “a behemoth’s pearl for dear Cubina.” He clutches an incomplete, but correct map leading to the Behemoth’s Shell (see Handout 1). Vorgo can be healed with difficulty. Who knows who stabbed him. It was dark, he was drunk. If healed, he makes for a shifty, cowardly, but loyally incompetent henchman.
- In Charming Square carriages cram into a meowing mob as confiscated traveler dogs are thrown into pit fights against trained sewer rats. Bookies take bets to 10 cash per bout (check Charisma to win). Saving a lucky dog costs 1d6 x 50 cash. Cheering the dogs draws glares from cat people.
Weather: The sun rises through a violet haze, slowly, as though reluctant to give up the shimmering phantoms of pre-dawn to the dusty day.
Misfortune: Unlucky visitors picked up the (1) running blues, (2) tendril tapeworms, or (3) an infected sore on the muddy road through the Blue Lands. Others were (4) pick-pocketed, (5) fell in love with a swamp wisp, or simply (6) ruined their nice shoes in a deceptive bog.
This is the End of the Road. Humanity’s dominions wind down in the purple haze that wreathes the sunrises at this western reach.
No roads, but caravans brave the Ultraviolet Grassland into the eternal sunset of the Black City. Porcelain Princes and Spectrum Satraps oversee great herds of biomechanical burdenbeasts that bring the odd fruits, the black light lotus, the indigo ivories, the rainbow silks, and the sanguine porcelains so popular among the meritocrats of the Rainbow Lands.
Violent mechanisms take many voyagers, others are eaten by the vomes, but nobody talks of those lost to the ultras.
West: both the Low Road and the High are rutted jokes. Both lead to Porcelain Throne, the neutral hole at the edge of Viomech 5 territory.
Off Trail: flocks of cat-eared sheep and the odd transplanted limey nomad clan makes this area of the UV Grassland relatively civil.