Mörk Borg - session 1

Well, That Escalated Quickly

Well, That Escalated Quickly

Welcome to Session 1 of Mörk Borg!

If you missed the previous part where I created the character and laid out the story, you can go back and read it here. Or, feel free to skip it and jump right into the story. My out-of-character ramblings will be normal text like this, while in-character stuff will be written in italics. Mechanics will be in code blocks.

I’ll be rolling a d10 for the Calendar of Nechrubel—don’t want to make it a too big emphasis on the campaign, although I will obviously embrace any 1’s that I do happen to roll on it.

So, we have our character, and our setup. Felban was wrongfully accused and sentenced to hang by the neck in Galgenbeck but narrowly managed to escape, and moved his operations to Schleswig where he’s been hiding for the better part of a year, getting along by selling tinctures and miracle cures to people desperate enough to try anything. That is, until he gets a letter which addresses him by the name that he left behind in Galgenbeck.

Let’s try to map out some milestones for Felban, shall we? It’s basically a way for us to get started playing the actual game. We might come up with more of them during play, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have some sense of direction to begin with, so here goes:

1. Survive the journey to The Valley of the Unfortunate Dead
2. Unmask the blackmailer
3. Hear them out, and take on the job (or refuse?)
4. ???
5. Profit

This equates to something between an Annoying and Depressing adventure (DR10-12 on Conclude an Adventure). I’m sure we’ll uncover more milestones as we get going.

Day 1

Calendar of Nechrubel (d10): 8 => no Misery
Weather (d12): 1 => Lifeless grey 

”Silfverhjelm.” I spat the name like a bad taste as I folded the letter and returned it to the water-stained, slightly crumpled envelope. I had to restrain myself from throwing the thing in the fire. My eyes were drawn to it, the flames dancing in the bleak morning light, sending small fireflies into the grey sky, and as always, it calmed my nerves. I let out a deep sigh, rose, and checked my stuff one last time.

Food (d4): 4 => 4 rations

Distance from Schleswig to Valley of the Unfortunate Dead d8+4 => 6

I didn’t have much to my name, but living as an outlaw had taught me to be selfish. It was either that, or you’d soon find yourself on the sharp end of a sword or spear. Or worse. Following the road, I could make it to the Valley in a few days, but I only had food for four days, which meant stopping to forage or hunt. Not ideal, given the timeframe outlined in the letter... but let the prick wait. Nechrubel knows I’ve spent my fair share of waiting in my time.

I had my sword, my portable lab and 80 silver to bribe myself out of trouble. Only time would tell if that was enough or not. It was with heavy steps I stepped out of the hovel I had been holing up in the last few days, as if the world already died and left me to carry its bones...

Road (d8): 2 => Narrow wagon track used by farmers

Events (d20): 6 => Weather change

Weather (d12): 4 => Deafening storm

As I started walking, the grey sky from the morning started slowly to gather gradually darker and darker tones of dark blue, violet and pure, inky blackness. A wind started tugging at the hem of my cloak, and I shifted the weight of the portable laboratory I had in my satchel, trying to peer through the brewing storm for some kind of shelter.

Do I find shelter?(d4): 1 => Yes

Buildings and Structures (d4): 4 => Other (roll on Materials table)

Materials:
- Quality (d20): 10 => Transparent
- Composition (d12): 9 => Glass

Just as the winds started picking up in earnest, I spotted it by the roadside—a silhouette that, upon closer inspection, seemed to be an abandoned greenhouse. Miraculously, most of its panes were still intact, but overgrown with dust, mold and dirt. As I got up to it, I tried to peer inside, but it was no use—the windows were covered in too thick smears to see anything. The sound of the rustling leaves and the gusty wind drowned everything under it and I had no way to know it was empty for sure, but the will to get sheltered from the storm soon overtook me, and I opened the door.

Is the greenhouse empty?
(d4): 1 => Yes

Odours & tastes (d20): 18 => Fermented

”Hello?” I yelled, to be heard over the wind. There was no answer. I stepped inside and immediately a strong, fermented smell filled my nostrils. The greenhouse was empty, except for the rotting carcasses of whatever plants the owner had left behind. Must’ve left in a hurry, the place was in a sorry state. But at least I had shelter to wait out the storm.

(d8): 3 => Southern Frog Stew
(d8): 8 => Black Poison

With nothing else to do, I set up my lab and started working on brewing some decoctions. Most of the materials in the greenhouse were beyond salvation, but I got enough to mix together one set of Southern Frog Stew and some Black Poison. The storm continued raging outside, and there was no way I’d brave that weather again, so I just made myself as comfortable as I could, as it looked like I’d be spending the night in this hole.

Camping: (2d20)-1 = 16 | 6 vs 12 => Weak Hit

=> Nightly campsite event (d12): 10 => Dreams of (d6): 6

=> Bright white nothingness, in the morning, (d6)-3: -1 Omens left

-1 food => 3

---

Day 2

Days left to Valley of the Unfortunate dead: 5

Calendar of Nechrubel (d10): 5 => no Misery

Weather (d12): 12 => Gravelike cold

I managed to fall asleep, somehow. But in the morning, when I woke up, I felt far from rested. Shivering from the cold that had crept into my body and made a home in my bones, I tried to recall the dream that I’d had—but all I could remember was a bright, white light. Was that the light of Nechrubel’s final breath? The end of it all? I packed my things, and carefully opened the greenhouse door, peering outside.

What’s the road like? (d8): 4 => Once well maintained trade road fallen into disrepair

Events by the road (d20): 8 => The road forks, signs are unintelligible, roll again =>

=> (d20): 19 => A funerary procession of toothless villagers, carrying a very large coffin. (The giant inside is dead but dreaming.)

Sounds:- Quality (d12): 12 => Receding- Type (d20): 8 => Singing

I started trudging in the direction of the Valley once again. After a couple of hours of walking, I came to a fork in the road, and decided to veer right. A few minutes later, I heard receding singing from somewhere in front of me. The sound is off the road, but curiosity got the best of me and I followed the sound to see what was going on—a funeral procession. The villagers, strained by the effort, were carrying an enormous coffin. I’m not sure whoever, or whatever, was in that coffin was actually dead, because it gave off vibes that creeped me the fuck out. I slunk away unseen.

Road in disrepair => Leaving the Road (d20): 2 => An ancient battlefield with half-buried rusty blades and wraiths

It’s still hard to admit, but I kind of got lost when I tried to get back to the road. Should never have followed those singing bastards... the forest gave way to a field, and at first I welcomed the change, but then I started seeing abandoned, half-buried weaponry here and there. And where there’s weapons, there’s bound to be corpses. And where there’s corpses, there’s wraiths.

Flee unseen: (2d20)+Agility: 15 | 17 vs DR12 => Strong Hit

I turned back, and left the field behind me as fast as I could. As I did, I spotted the signpost I’d tried to decipher earlier in the distance, and made a run for it. Thankfully, I didn’t linger on the battlefield long enough to grab the attention of the unfortunate fools who had lost their lives and were now mindlessly roaming those fields in wait for unwary travelers.

(d8): 5 => Spider-Owl Soup
(d8): 7 => Hypho’s Enervating Snuff

Poor Felban has barely made it out of Schleswig when trouble already finds him…

After making it back to the road again, I ventured towards the Valley for a bit before calling it a day. I found a rock formation that gave some shelter, and built a small fire to shield from the cold. Before leaving the field, I had had the good sense to grab some herbs I spotted. Now, I made some Spider-Owl Soup and a small portion of Hypho’s Snuff. Should come in handy if there’s trouble in the night. Little did I know...

Camping: (2d20)-1: 1 | 11 vs DR12 => Miss

Who contacts you: (d20): 15 => A devastated mother dressed in white

I was suddenly woken up by someone shaking me violently. As I opened my eyes and could get my bearings and my sight to focus, I saw a woman, dressed in all white, with tears streaking her face, clearly in distress.

”Help me!” she screamed at me. “You have to help my son!”

I’m not gonna lie. She wasn’t hard on the eyes, this one. Still, I did not like being woken up like this, and I shoved her arms of me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

”My son!” she wailed. “He’s fallen into the well! You have to help him! Quick, before he drowns!”

Well, well, well…

She didn’t even wait for an answer, but started running of, veil trailing behind her like a wisp of smoke. I cursed under my breath, got up, grabbed my satchel and sprang after her.

The well sat crooked in a dirt yard, surrounded by a few hovels that had seen better days. From inside, cries of help were echoing into the night. The assumed mother and a few other villagers were standing around the well, looking down into the inky darkness.

I could hear the cries from the boy in the well, but that’s not the only thing I heard—there was another voice, too. Softer, with a sickening, gurgling quality that I’d rather not remember.

”Its touching me! Help!” the boy cried from the well, splashing in the water, trying desperately to climb the slick walls.

The monster approaches,
table A - 2: bent like a coathanger
table B - 5: with throbbing exposed glands,
table C - 8: it’s spasmodically skittering close.

More than anything it wants to be sympatized with, petted and cooed over. Reacts violently if not.

”Are you dimwits just going to stand there, doing nothing? Get the fuck out of my way,” I said and shoved the men aside, then downed the Spider-Owl soup I had brewed before going to sleep. I climbed to the edge of the well, and swung my feet inside. Thanks to the soup, I the slippery walls were like floors to me, and I could descend into the dark without any trouble. “I’m coming, watch out,” I shouted to the boy.

I dropped the last few meters and landed with a splash. The well was not that deep, but as I turned around, I figured out that it was the least of the boys problems: an outright hideous abomination, with vaguely humanlike form, though bent in impossible ways, came skittering towards me in erratic, spasmodical bursts of movement. Various cuts and bruises exposed pulsing, angrily red glands.

”Maammmmmaa.... ’nother one, mammaaa... he’s cold like me...” the once-human thing breathed as I groped for my sword.

”Stand back,” I told the normal boy, and raised my weapon, knowing full well that the water that reached a bit above my waist would hinder my movement and making dodging difficult.

Initiative: (d6)+Agility: 4 => Felban goes first
Monster:
- HP: 4
- Morale: 8
- Damage: 3

Melee: (d20)+Strength: 18 => 6dmg -1 = 5 => dead

I swung at the not-quite-human with all my might just as it skittered closer. The pommel of my sword hit it square in the face, and the crushed the skull like an overripe watermelon with a sickening crunch. The boy recoiled and screamed in horror as the blood, bone fragments and brain matter started mixing with the water we were standing in.

I quickly put away my sword, then motioned for the boy to grab hold of me. The effect of the Spider-Owl Soup had not yet worn off, so it was easy to climb out. The boy ran to her mother, sobbing uncontrollably as soon as he was out of the well. The mother thanked me profusely for saving him, but to my dismay she seemed to have a husband—it was one of the good-for-nothings that had been standing at the well, doing fuck-all when I arrived. But at least I got offered a place to stay for the rest of the night...

Camping (50/50 Weak or Strong Hit): 17 => Strong Hit

---

Afterthoughts

This was a really fun session, even though I did have to do quite a bit of back-and-forth between the supplements and the core book. I think it’ll get easier once I have a better hang of the rules.

The dice really threw me off with in the first “Buildings and Structures” roll there—and you better believe I did not make those rolls up, with the material and composition making so much sense. Felt like a real d’uh moment. And then to come up with why there would be a house of glass somewhere, like what? I took a pause at that point, feeling like I’d have to reroll something, but as I was walking the dog, I saw the neighbors greenhouse and it was an honest to god Eureka moment.

The whole well thing was not very thoroughly thought out at all, I just had to come up with some kind of distraction why Felban couldn’t sleep in peace for the second night in a row, and I figured I’d just roll on some random table. Then I just came up with the idea of why the woman was distressed, and again, honestly it was just pure dumb luck that Felban had brewed the Spider-Owl Soup just before—these events were played out on different days. The encounter in the well, well that one I did rewrite. Initially I pictured there were just some small rats nibbling at the boy, but they stood no chance at all against Felban and I felt like it was a bit “clean” for Mörk Borg, if that makes sense. So instead, I used the “The Monster Approaches” from Feretory to come up with something hideous. It kind of even has a backstory, that might be revealed in next week’s session. Or maybe not, we’ll see.

Anyway, I hope you liked the story! Please leave a comment if you want more Felban stuff in the future.

And hit the subscribe button if you haven’t done so already, so you get notified when the next session goes live.