Pox Scarred Squalor, A Mork Borg-Solitary Defilement Solo Actual Play - Chapter 2: The Lamentations of the Alleyways
The Pox Scarred Squalor doesn't sleep, not really. It doesn't wake up either. Its always there, in a sort of haze, hung over, concussed, distraught.
Well, our 'not-hero' Svum has a quest. Sure, he sees it as a way to make a few silver and nothing more, but dear readers, it is a quest. This pearl is something powerful, something dangerous, but Svum doesn't care. It's a paycheck, a pouch of silver, a week of binge drinking, and nights of comfort. He will get it or he will die, either way, he's doing it.
Content warning: This is a much darker campaign than previously played, there is swearing, excessive violence, gore, depression, sadness, etc. If you are staying for the story, be prepared for almost anything.
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How deserted lies the city as the sun rises...
Svum stumbles out of his hovel into the streets of Squalor in the early dawn light. Mist from the great seas below blanket the slums, blocking out most of the early rays of light. If you looked up, you would only be able to make out the outlines of Grift above. But why the fuck would you look up? Svum keeps his eyes open and ready, even early in the morning, the squalor has dangers for those that walk her streets.
Muggers, gangs, thieves, cultists, corrupt guards, people out for a cheap thrill after a night on the swill, any of these could spell the end for an unsuspecting or distracted person wandering the Squalor. Svum walks deliberately, with a hand on his sword and his chin held high. Anyone he sees he makes eye contact, warning them that he is not someone to mess with and that he isn't some shit-stained gutter scum. Even if he is.
Svum knows the Rusty Cutters’ Tavern is not far from his hovel. Nothing is really far away in the Squalor, it's all snuggled tight up against the walls of Grift, clinging to them for warmth and safety, like an orphan kitten snuggling up to a large rat. But close does not mean easy or safe to get to, this is a truth in the Squalor. Every street is a kingdom here, owned by one criminal lord or the other and every house is a fortress. Step into the wrong alley and you are dead, gutted like a fish, and dropped into the sea below.
Walking the main streets of the Squalor is a dangerous proposition, even more so when you are alone, and Svum knows this also. The Alleyways are the key to travel around the Squalor, you can move quickly, quietly, and with less risk. Violence in the alleys isn’t unknown, but you are far more likely to have a one-on-one dust-up, rather than get jumped by a dozen gutter rats.
So Svum strolls confidently into the alley next to him in the direction of the Rusty Cutters Tavern.
City Crawl
DR 8 (Svum knows this part of the city well) Vs 2,1 (that's a horrible roll on two D20!) Fail
Roll a D4 - 1 an NPC Encounter, 1 Drunk
“Hey, shhhhl-you! Hey! I’m shh-talking to youse!” Svum closes his eyes and pinches his nose, his head still pounding from last night's excesses. He turns to see a clearly intoxicated man, stumbling towards him, drooling and with sick all down his shirt. Svum chuckles, looks like this guy had a good fucking night, it's a wonder he’s still standing.
“Hey friend, move along. I got nothing for you here,” Svum shouts to the drunk and visibly puts his hand on his sword hilt.
“Shhhhh-Hey mate. I ain’t got no problem with you. I just need a shhhh-silver for a drink. I’m out you know. But I ain’t don’t having a good time. Shhhhhhhit, the party just started you know?”
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| Some people party a bit too hard in the Squalor. By Roemer En Toorts. |
Svum takes a second to think. The guy is unsteady on his feet, unlikely he could follow if Svum decided to run. Or it wouldn't take much to smash his damn teeth him. But either event could lead to shouting and draw attention. Svum just doesn’t have time and the score with this pearl will make him up for months. What is it the merchants always say? You gotta spend silver to make silver.
Pulling out his money pouch, Svum takes out his smallest silver coin and flicks it to the drunk. “Here, and if I see you around here again, I’ll smash your fucking face in. Now go drink, you damned gutter rat.” -1 Silver
The drunk snatches it up and wander off straight away without a thank you or anything. People in the Squalor are rarely grateful.
Svum sighs and starts again into the alleyways.
We know the tavern isn’t far so I’m going to say it's a three-roll crawl away. We already know it's an alley but what is in it? I’m rolling on the Street Descriptor table in the Alone in the Crowd Supplement, as a part of the Solitary Defilement Deluxe edition.
Street Descriptor - Dark Alley, with a Gathering, A religious ritual. Who is doing the ritual? Roll on the Religious table in SD. The Order of the Horrific Death, they are nihilistic. Are they friendly? Roll a D4, 2 Yes but… But they ask for a donation.
Stepping into the alleyways, Svum comes face to face with a small and grizzly group of Cultists. The Order of the Horrific Death believes the gods are dead, that we all are dead (yes, even you reader), and that this life has no meaning. To show their disdain for life, they stand still for hours, days, or even months, until they pass out or die. They drink nothing, their clothes rot from their bodies and the shit runs down their legs.
Svum knows they are pests, always looking for a handout to fund their cult. He tries to sneak past them, so as to not disturb any of them.
Adventuring Move +1 with Agility (Trying to sneak past the believers)
DR 8 (the believers are deep in their devotions) Vs (12+1)13, (3+1)4 Weak hit, one cultist wakes up
The three cultists seem undisturbed by Svum’s sneaking. The alley is tight and Svum has to flatten himself against a rotting wall to avoid touching one of the Order. Suddenly, the cultist standing closest to Svum snaps its arm out and grabs Svum by the arm. Bony and infected fingers grip Svum hard. It smiles and shows rows of broken and rotting teeth. “Dear visitor to our ceremony, please consider donating a few silvers to our wonderful church”. Svum can smell the sour breath, it smells of death.
Immediately Svum pulls his sword from his belt and brings it to the throat of the wraith of a man. “Take your rotting, stinking hands off me before I run you through you freak.”
Adventuring Move -2 with Presence
DR12 (This cultist won't be easily intimidated) Vs (12-2)10, (13,-2)11, Fail
Does the cultist attack Svum? D4, 2, Yes but… But nobody else helps.
The member of the Order of the Horrific Death smiles again and says “The donation is mandatory, now please deposit it in my hand or the church will have your blood!”
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| The cultists of a damned religion. Picture of Brother Klaus, Artist unknown. |
Cultist of the Order of the Horrific Death
HP 4 - Members of the Order do not each much and therefore have little strength
Moral - 9 Not that he is brave, but he’s gone mad with thirst and hunger.
Weapon - Cudgel D4, A stick, or piece of wood, whatever he found.
Armour - None, Rotting robes don’t offer much protection.
Special - D4 at the start of the turn. If a 4 is rolled, it awakens another cultist
Because combat in Mork Borg is a lot of rolling for an attack, rolling for defence, and repeat, I’ll roll for combat and then piece it all together into an action-packed scene. The combat roll will be below is smaller text.
Svum draws his sword and swings at the cultist’s arm, with the aim to cut the damned thing off. The Cultist moves with an unnatural speed, releasing Svum and pulling out a cudgel, hidden within his ratty robes. The insane cultist swings it viciously at Svum, missing by a hair. Svum aims a stab with his sword at the heart of the cultiest, but it deftly blocks it with his club and returns the favor with a savage swing at Svum’s head.
Its aim is true as the cudgel blasts into Svum’s head. Svum sees starts and his vision goes blurry. Through the haze, he relises he’s dealing with something with supernatural and insane speed. Discretion being the better part of valor, Svum sprints farther into the alley. As he turns to run he feels the whoosh of the cudgel and the bang as it slams into the wall where his head was a second ago.
The cultist doesn’t give chase. But Svum can hear it laughing as he continues to run down the alleyway.
Combat
Initiative (D6 + agility, 1-3 enemy goes first, 4-6 Svum goes first) - 4+1=5, Svum goes first.
Round 1
Svum Attack DR12, Strength 4-2=2 Miss
Special, D1 - Does not wake up his friends
Cultist Attack (Svum Defend), Agility DR12, 17+1=8, No hit
Round 2
Svum Attack DR12, Strength, 2-2=0, Miss
Special, D2 - Does not wake up his friends
Cultist Attack (Svum Defend), Agility DR12, 4+1=5, Hit on Svum
Roll Damage from Cudgel (D4) = 4. Reduce damage, D2=1, Damage 3
Round 3
Flee from Combat DR11+1(number of enemies) Vs (16+1)17, (8+1)9, Weak Hit
Special, D3 - Does not wake up his friends
Cultist gets an opportunity attack (Svum Defend), Ability DR12, (11+1)12, No hit
Svum escapes successfully
Running through alleys is something Svum knows how to do. He is small and fast and knows how to maneuver at a high speed. After a few twists and turns, Svum stops to take his breath. His head is banging worse than in the morning. He sits on a broken crate and pulls out his water skins and is pleasantly surprised when he finds it filled with beer. When did he do that? Svum can’t remember. (+D4 health recovery, 2. Health now 3).
Where has Svum ended up? Let's roll Street descriptor - Cobbled, Object catches Svum’s eyes.
Svum knows this isn’t the first and won’t be the last time he nearly dies on these streets. It's a way of life in the Squalor. Rested a bit, with his head hurting slightly less, he looks around to see where he is.
There is something valuable here, but does Svum see it?
Searching for an Object + Omens
DR12 Vs (15+2)17, (13+2)15, Strong hit. D4 for what he finds, D1 Search on D100 Items and Trinkets. A hooded lantern with full oil.
Looking down Svum finds a lantern in perfect condition, still shiny and fresh. Nothing is new in the Squalour, nothing. He checks the oil and sees it's full. And the oil is a clear olive color, he reckons he could eat it. A blessing to be sure. But from what god?
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| An unusual find. The lantern fills Svum with power. By Mildred Ford. |
Sitting and contemplating this, Svum studies the face of the lantern. The symbol there is something he has never seen before. It seems to move, to swirl. It feels him with… Strength? Power? A clear head? He can’t say, but he feels better than he’s felt in years.
Getting Better
Svum will now get better, as he survived a dangerous encounter. This will be the last time Svum Gets Better on this quest until he succeeds.
Health Improved by D6 = 4, very helpful for our scraggly hero. His HP max is now 8.
Ability Score will be raised by rolling a D6. Since they are all low, anything over a 1 will result in the stat is increased by 1.
Strength: A 6, Strength +1, now -1
Agility: A 6, Agility +1, now +2
Presence: A 4, Presence +1, now -1
Toughness: A 3, Toughness +1, now -1
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There you go. Svum barely survived and became slightly less shit at life. Will it be enough to get him into the tavern and retrieve the black pearl? Probably not but we can hope. See you next week.
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