"Trespass of Drachenfels": Plague Stricken Tavern

Reikland 2517 E.S. Each square of the tavern represents 2 yards by 2 yards. This map is the finale of the short side quest from Hofsstorstrasse. It was the first map I ever made, and I'm most fond of it.

CELLAR Above is a visualisation for the comfort of the reader, the blue regions are plunged in utter darkness and cannot be seen with the naked eye, unless by a character with night vision or one carrying a source of light. Barrel Ramp- If the party enters through the trapdoor in the sump their path starts here (M-5/M-4.) The ramp room is made of roughly cut stone illuminated by a single torch resting in a holder in the very front of the hatch smouldering the stones with black soot slowly flickering as the draft's been brought into this tomb of ale, barrels standing all around, but they seem old and empty at the very first sight. There is a large unevenly cut staircase leading up to a clumsy wooden door (J-2), from beneath which a cosy warm light emanates welcomingly. There are five full barrels in this room, one of beer containing 60 pints, three of pickled fish and one of pickled turnips. Some drunken revellers seem to have left their tankards here, one on top of an empty barrel at J-5 and the other, curiously facing the door into the deep cellar (K-1.) Both doors leading into the cellar and the bar room are open, the one leading into the bar room may be closed with a latch. Both have TB-3 and 8 wounds. Crane supply room- You open the small rickety door to enter a large chamber cut into the very bedrock of the city, a small wooden platform (B10) ahead is where the light from the bar room trickles down from a hatch in the ceiling, there are two tunnels one leading forwards into the murk and one leading to your left towards what seems by its shadowy miasma to be yet another chamber filled with old barrels. Rack of Casks (F-8/G-8/H-8/I-8)- There is more barrels here, each holding 10 gallons of beer (W-24;TB-2) One can climb on top of the tall rack along a board reaching up a perch of three yards. (Perception +1o% routine; There seems to be a corridor behind the barrel rack)

Stashed Cask- At the end of the turn into recess of musty darkness, rests a cask of Buggman's Brew (K-8.) The untapped cask holds 27 pints of the heedy drink, it must have been stashed here for a special occassion. Buggman's Brew- First brewed by Josef Bugman, and later distributed throughout the major cities of the Old World, drinking a frothy mug of this ale bolsters a character’s resolve, making him immune to Fear Tests for 1d10 hours. However, Bugman’s XXXXXX is extremely potent, counting as four drinks and requiring a Hard (–20%) Consume Alcohol Test to avoid getting stinking drunk. You can force someone to drink by holding a tankard and succesfuly grappeling the opponent, to then roll for a WS and their opposed Ag or S, thusly you force them to drink.

Accursed Door (C-5)- There is a shabby door leading deeper into the cellar, it is overhung with prayer parchments and holy symbols of the hammer which were haphazardly and hastly nailed into it. The door is shut with chain and lock (Lockpicking -1o%.) (Witchsight; Green tendrils seem to float out from under the door licking the floor faintly as if a whisp o' smoke.) Dead Innkeeper (D-5)- I guess now you know what happened to the old fellow. Diseased body of the innkeeper is oozing plague as his body rests reclined against a stone cellar wall. He seems to have died quite recently. The carcass causes 3 T damage through fumes and 4 T damage through touch with -2o% T. He is clutchinging something in his right hand, it's a key to the accursed door...

Barricaded Shrine- Upon entering through the door one is faced with a small shrine, with a massive nasty crossing of red arrows crudely finger painted onto the wall of the chamber with a trembling hand (Theology +1o%; A nasty pictogram of Chaos Undivided, symbol worshipped by the northern barbarians and the daemon cahooting types.) A small make-shift stone altar covered with few lit tallow candles. There in that dark depth wrapped in a blanket rests a grimoire bound in sluggish green strips of leather sawn together and fitted with brass in a symbol of three ovals an three arrows as if a sickly colliding suns, (Theology +0%; It is a symobol of a wicked Chaos diety of death and decay known as Nurgle) pulsating with disgusting rhythm, smelling faintly of sewers and swamp. (Witchsight; It is a gateway for something terrible, you can feel them clawing at the flimsy door... They're laughing...) Grimoire of Nurgle- Upon closer examination the maggot eaten pages contain nothing but terrible mad gibberish if one happens to be fluent in Daemonic (+0%.) and Read and Write (-1o%; Due to the condition of the book.) To a collector of the dark occult this book would be priceless, but to those capable in appraisal (-1o% Due to the rarity of the product) could fetch up to 5oo gc.

GROUND FLOOR Vestibule- This is the entrance from the main street, a small chamber smelling of old wood. On the right a wolven skin is strapped onto the wall with three iron spikes (L-7). Further up a ladder leads up to a shut hatch (K-7)(TB 2; 6 Wounds) leading into the wooden ceiling of splinters and clumsy woodwork. There's a low bench with a tankard on the left. Tables- Tables of Reikwald wood rest here peacefully, they bare the marks of the many a dance and the slams of a tankard of the local burghers in their drunkenness of reddened faces slamming into it with shoes and steel rims of their mugs in the ragtag measurement of the many Imperial festivities celebrated with silly song and the quaff (24 Wounds; 2 TB). The stools and tables can be easily turned into improvised clubs and benches through a half-action of being broken. Common Room- The bar room tall room has the bar to the right, where it welcomes the wary with the many tankards and polished wood of the marked and tapped barrels, the few tables spiral along the sticky wooden floor, a chimney faces the tall chamber with a heating warm embrac, it is topped with a massive antlered skull of a Reikwald moose Bar- The pedestal from which the ale would pour into the merry thirsty mugs of the Imperial burghers were it naught for the fact the owner's disappearance, which now made it a self service locale. The three tapped beer barrels drip their froth slowly onto the floor in a mesmerising fashion. Each one already poured a decent enough froth into the tankards of the establishment. (From left to right 36 pints, 21 pints and 23 pints left) Two columns of Reik wood keep the upper floor over the bar, behind it there shines a whole shelf of dried goods from chesses to sausages, herbs and plenty of empty tankards. (Perception +1o% routine; Behind the very uneven Reikwood counter, stained with the many tankards and beer foam lays in its murk a club of the tavern keeper, the tool that kept the local drunks in check). There’s the tabs' board hanging off of a support beam over the counter. A few local Imperial sounding names scratched on it with chalk, with lines etched next to them. A few fines from the bailiffs for drunken missbehaviour as well as some delivery papers and memos are nailed onto the board. Private Room- A sturdy locked door defends the access to this small chamber (12 Wounds; 3 TB; Lockpicking -1o%). Inisde a single table surrounded by benches. Here the patrons more concerned with privacy would imbibe in peace, the walls are draped thickly, with grey-beige moth eaten drapes to soundproof the place, as confidential merchant talks were had here. Cellar Door (I-2)- This door leads off into the barrel ramp through which all the casks were supplied. The door is open but may be latched shut from bar room side. (TB-3; 8 Wounds) Hatch (H-2)- This little hatch gapes with darkness when opened, it leads off into the dark, damp and unwelcoming cellar. Hearth- The hearth is a stony pit of fire and embers, large enough to gobble up a large halfling in its stony mouth of heated smouldering stone. It is slowly crackling and burning gently, with a sizeable warm flame. A crooked tall chimney trails off into the roof in a zigzag, at its side their lays a pile of fire wood.

SECOND FLOOR Party Floor- It is the second story from which those carousing below could be watched, and things comfortably dropped on their heads.

Hunting trophy (I-9/J/9)- A giant skull of a Reikwald moose adjacent to a base of dark wood carved into forest themes of branches and brambles (W 14; TB 1) Upon being destroyed the whole trophy falls down over the front of the hearth crushing whoever stands below (I-8;J-8) with S-1, and smashing into shards of bone and wood in a big cloud of dust. Winch (J-1)- A winch used for bringing up beer barrels from the cellar into the common room through a hatch behind the bar, the winch is currently pulled up all the way, its sharp hook swinging slowly on the thick hemp rope (You can winch the hook down to any level you desire with a half-action, provided the hatch behind the bar is open.) Inkeeper's Quarters- This cold room seems to be the place where the old coot slept, there lays his bed of green blanket neatly done, a dresser beneath the dirty window (shining with eerie moonlight/gleaming with the sickly sun light), and a chest wrapped with hefty chain. Chained Chest (L-4/5)- The oaken chest was wrapped in chains, it seems to have been hauled here from a bog, it stinks of the mire. There are soaken blankets inside, something seems to have been delivered in this chest. Broken window- There seems to be a mysterious broken window inside of the tavern, it leads into a dark chamber. One can squeeze through it with Agility +2o%. Fall- Vaulting over the balustrade from the second floor of the tavern would result in a six yards of plummet to the ground floor. FIRE MECHANICS If five simultaneous fires are started, the party will have 10 turns to vacate the premises or extinguish enough fires to bring the inflagration level down. If the turns run out those within will be forced to spend a fate point to miracolusly survive, turning up the next morning a little singed, but otherwise of sound health. The turns restart whenever fewer than 5 fires are raging at the time. The cellar won't burn as it's made of stone, after 10 turns the whole tavern will collapse into the cellar however, crushing anyone beneath smouldering beams. Total Inferno; "The jaws of Aqshy clasp upon the tavern with utter ferocity, the innards of the now skeletal charred structure foam with plumes of black burning smoke, it's time to get out of here, windows seem suddenly as good an exist as any, don't forget about your wounded, those left within the tavern will surely choke to death for to be found in the morn as nothing more than a smoking ribcage within the cinders of this here establishment." SUMMONING DAEMONS When a player character disturbs the rotten tome upon the altar the air shakes, as does the foul grimoire. The tome slowly rises up into the air, pulled by some unholy force, then as if struck with a daemonic whip it begins to flip its pages in a sudden fit, as if it were whipped by hail-wind in the little chamber. Each page yellowish, eaten through by worms. Suddenly the book falls down limp, with a loud clang of its crude brass fittings upon the stone of the altar. The air in the tavern is stale and still after that... Then a loud, low cackle, as if stemming from the very conciousness of the ones listening. A laugh heard not by ears, but by the trembling of the immortal souls of those in the tavern. To the disturbance a sudden strange commotion is added, as upstairs rings out with a rain of thuds.   Thus from an explosion of rotten flame in a cloud of foetid, yellowish-green, coiling, greasy, glittering smoke a small rotund daemon appears, materialising a few feet off the ground, for to then splash into the floors of the tavern with the most gruesome splash. Such explosive apparitions begin loudly manifesting in other parts of the tavern too. These outerdimentional apparitions wallop violently into the floorboards, appearing as if a bastard of a snail and the worst feverish nightmare of a votive painter of the Cathedral of Sigmar. Their bulging eyes, sickly and slimy as if that of a dead fish, their skin gooey and sluggish, with a bloated globelike gut, and yellowish horns burrowed through by maggots. Green mouths contorted in a big smile of cracked bloated lips, exposing rows of broken teeth, they clamour with their little daemonish hooves whilst making unsettling sounding squeals nigh like those of a child for to then, in another bout of roaring, sound like the possessed screams of the interned at Altdorf's tower of fools. They appear to be, and to be not at the same time, breaking the laws of reality at whim. Their very presence shaking and fidgeting, but not from their own intent but as if the very world shook the place of their manifestation, for to shake them off with disgust. Their image appearing unnaturally foggy and opalescent, their presence momentarily dissolving for to suddenly pour back shakily into reality once more, as if buzzing of a sickly outerdimentional fly.

Nurgling

Sentient, horned, sluggish, foetid piles of interdimensional tallow and rot armed with teeth.

WS   |   BS    |    S    |   T    | Ag   |  Int  |  WP  |    Fel                   2o%    3o%      21%     23%    6o%    25%    30%   25% A |  W  |  SB  | TB  |  M  |  Mag |  IP  |  FP      2    7      2     2(+2)    4       0    -         - Talents: Concealment +10%, Dodge Blow, Perception, Silent Move, Speak Arcane Language (Daemonic), Speak Language (Dark Tongue), Swim. Skills: Ambidextrous, Daemonic Aura, Fearless, Night Vision, Unsettling Equipment; The wicked creatures did not bring a thing into the material world. Special rules; Swarm of flies;  everyone attacking a Nurgling suffer -1o% do WS as they are swarmed by daemonic flies (Lesser daemonic servants of lesser daemonic servants), which buzz insanely lunching themselves into the faces of the fighting, distracting them. Unsetteling;  All whom spy the Nurgling must roll for WP lest suffer -1o% to WS and BS up until it is destroyed or it disappears from view of the character. Daemon Slaying; "The beast cries loudly and mournfully, as it explodes in the same foetid clawing and bitting fog of yellowish-green that summoned it, for to turn its material presence into a pile of maggot filled mud that plops into the floor where it once stood." Cellar: (F-2) Guhlr the Gnawer: The cackling daemon attempts to snatch up the grimoire from the players, a strange behaviour, as it is a matter well known to even the most Festag daemonologist, that nurglings are illiterate. If it is attacked it runs for the corpse of the innkeeper and through a full action, gnawes off his forearm turning it into a plague ridden cudgel, which it uses to assault players. To normal improvised weapon damage it also deals 1-TB damage of Green Pox, with +1o% Toughness to resist it. (L-3) B'Rkh the Unbathed: The howling critter begins to loot and destroy the pickled barrels, wrecking two, for to then jump into a barrel of beer, smashing it in. It remains there, contentedly enjoying a bath.

Ground Floor: (C-3) Ml'hor the Greenhorn: The pox-imp seems to have taken to liking of the great antlers of the Reikwald beast, admiration likely born of envy. It jumps on the hearth and tries to clumsily scale the stony chimney to reach the trophy. It rolls for half its agility for every 3 yards of the 6 yards of the fireplace. Once it reaches the trophy it knocks it down, destroying it. After that it clambers down and begins running about the establishment blowing raspberries at anyone it runs into with its purple rotted through, maggot filled tongue.

(H-4) Balzaaba the Glut: The fat little nurgling begins to gulp down beer in absolute frenzy. It sings strange daemonic mockery of a shnapps-songs as it does. It also hurls empty tankards at any new arrivals. If it drinks 12 pints of beer, it errupts into beer foam coating anyone in neighbouring square with 3-TB damage of Green Pox with -1o% Toughness. If one steps into the aftermath it takes a 1-TB damage of Green Pox with +1o%. (E-6) Kib the Marked-One: The nasty little nurgling runs from table to table, green rump jiggling. It uses its nasty green talon to etch the nasty symbol of its patron Chaos god into each table. It takes it a full action to etch the symbol into the table. Once its done with the tables it runs for the private room, clawing at the door until they're broken. Inside it either guzzles down the beer from the barrel or begins to wreck the room completely.

Second Floor: (B-4) Tmuth the Fly-Swatter: The nasty little monster drops anything it gets its claws on, on top of the heads of those below. Mostly using the wooden tankards as improvised projectiles.

Festag Inqusition Upon casting the grimoire into the fire place; Once the vile book is cast into the fire with disgust, a shriek as that of some unnatural beast shakes the tavern so all the polished cow horn windows rattled in their frames, and the nurglings begin to cower and cry pathetically, the fires rise as if instead of a book one cast oil into the flame, and against the law of natural order the flame in the chimney takes on a greenish rotten colour. A sudden gust of stench bursts from the fireplace so that all the candles in the tavern go out...

(Witchsight; The winds of magic appear as if unclean gasses, wafting in through the green burning fire-place, filling up the tavern. Then through a slow gust, to be sucked out through the chimney into the magical vacuum outside. A gust those present cannot help but follow with their conciousness. Outside, a great immensely powerful force surrounds the tavern, whirling around it, for to then dissipate. An angry roar of a far away daemon resounds from its dark pits of swollen stalactites of filth dripping with swamp water, shaking in its maw its yellowish teeth and rotten gums in a bout of powerless anguish. A cataclysmic jiggling of the whole of the fat mind-warping daemonic frame, has its elk-like rotten bubo-bound horns shake off flakes of what turns out to be smaller daemons nesting in them. The giant rotten disembowelled smoking stomach shakes in anger, the roar carries from the north, very far north, so far north that when you reach it, neither south, nor east, nor west can take you back home. It would seem that despite the thousands of miles it can still be heard...   The fire dies down, the candles flick back into thier pleasant cosy natural light, as the Old World is one vile grimoire poorer, the magic users must roll -2o% WP or faint for 1d1o turns. All of the remaining nurglings are sucked out by that powerful gust of the winds of change, right out through the chimney back to whence they came. Plague Tavern (33o xp) Role play- For roleplaying ideas (5 xp) Infestation- Finding the source of the plague (20 xp) Daemon vanquisher- Destroying the Daemonic grimoire. (200 xp) Nurgling popper- For every nurgling popped out of existence. (25 xp personal; max 150 xp) Precautions- For burning the tavern down (20 xp) Proper Party!- If the party finishes at least three Quaff Quests (25 xp) Quaff Quests Additional missions that can only be performed for experience by the stinking drunk characters, once a character has claimed the quest, it cannot be taken up by any other character. Chilly call of the lord of winter-  Take off your clothes and put on the woolf skin in the vestibule over your head, so you can frighten your opponents looking like Talauten chieftain of the Ulricsberg, keep it on until the scene ends.  (5 xp; Only Imperial humans) Mindless act of vandalism-  Make sure all the windows in the tavern are broken into bits (TB-3/4 wounds). (2 xp per window) Call of Aqshy- It's a wee chilly outside and following the example of the fire-barrel outisde you decide to set the place ablaze. (1o xp) Drinking like the ancestors- Make sure that all the dwarven ale in the tavern, belongs to the dawi. (5 xp Only dwarfs) Mootland brawl-dance- Dance for three turns on one of the main floor tables or the bar uninterrupted. (5 xp; Only halflings) King of the Reikwald- Enough the creatures of the forest endured pain and humiliation at the hands of the filthy Reik barbarians, destroy the effigy to boastful human cruelty perched on the top of the hearth. (5xp; Only elves) Bierhall Scarecrow- (5 xp) Take a character to suspend them on the hook of the winch in mid-air. Ale Whispers- A muffled voice it seems whispers to you from the thick run ale, a deep voice. “Come down, come down and find us” says the voice in the drunken light devouring haze. The drunken vision drowning in the thick drink. Suddenly you are overcame by an urge to go and check the tavern cellar. Drunken Dance-  Spend three turns in a silly round-about dance with another character, you can wrestle characters to dance with you. (5 xp for both participants)