Ozborn: WhatATerribleNight ToHaveACurse

Art by Adam Paquette

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Let's go Carousing
Get to Ozborn at night and it's always dusk while you're there
Ozborn was built on top of an Old goblin keep which leads into the goblin realms. The keep was repurpoused into a sprawling sewer system
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Malina Chorna - Revived Death by Fire, from Gyre Islands
Opulescence the Jewel Mask - Wizard of the Sucrose
Kledon - Guest of Ruler Wulfgang at Fort Etxeberria
Ax Gang - Harass everyone but generally incompetent, encountered in 3d8 amounts
Goblin-head Duo - Masks of Leather, Manage Portal Works
Ramirez the Last Goblin -
Duboshit - Leatherbound servant of Ramirez the Last Goblin
Dynamo - No Peace will Come from carrying arms
Erasmus - Undead Sorceror, Pale White Ghost, Butterfly Blade Magic Weapon
Wolfgang - Rain Eroded Zahra Jewels in his chest piece, resides on the Philosphers's throne
Hollows - Katana Wielding enforcers of Wolf
Baalzebul - Young old faith Cleric, triple beam swarm of locusts
Ha Ring - Bodyguard of Baalzebul, bleached hair
Aquarias Kari - Member of the Hollows and grows Senzu Beans
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Council of Woe: Erasmus (Metaphysical), Shinta (Economic), Wulfgang (Defense)
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Natives of Ozborn wear Masks
Outsiders are offered free masks
Ax Gang, doesn't and instead carry axes
Weapons are free to carry but strong significance in carrying


Carousing NPC Encounter Table


Carousing Mishap Table 1d5

1. 1d6+2 Hollows and a human servant of Wulfgang surround the character. They accuse the character of being responsible for a magical duel fought atop of a cathedral roof last night. The character has either the option of agreeing to the charge or seek out the actual culprit (real sorceror), who slayed their last opponent by eldritch might.

2.  A woman falls into the street from the second story window in front of the character and dies on impact. Soon after, the character notices a hooded figure skillfully dropping, uninjured, from another second story window facing into the alley. The figure quickly disappears into a maze of side streets.

3. The character finds an item they have been seeking in the marketplace. As the purchase is completed and they are about to leave, a stranger rushes up to the merchant shouting, "I know you have it [NPC NAME], and I want my back back now!" The stranger is missing his entire torso.

4. Returning from the night, the characters find that a pair of young lovers have taken the characters's room as refuge to meet in. They are sought after by families that do not approve of their love. If the character chooses to aid them there is a 2 in 6 chance that the families will find out and send assassins after them.

5. The character is resting in their  room when suddenly the door bursts open. A well-armed man with weapon drawn storms in and says, "Don't move, I've...crap, wrong room." The intruder then quickly exits, if followed he will identify himself as a member of the BLACK KULT.

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Ozborn Monster Descriptions
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Ax Gang

Immaculately dressed the crowd mirrors the axes in their hands. The off white metal matching their fine silks and the black handle matching their coats and boots. They cackle and jeer at you. They wear no masks but instead style their hair similarly. Each has slicked it back with tar, leaving it a single unmoving mass. A unifromly thin mustache and goatee covers the lower half of their face.
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Hollows

White slabs emerge from black hoods. Each an orgy of wild angles. Their cloaks must hide the shame as their hunched forms contain no curve or symmetry. If one could fully right itself it may two heads taller than a man, but instead they skulk forward. hands draw curved swords with a single edge and they advance each at a jagged pace.

Your blade sinks into the cloaked flesh and tears it open. No blood spills to the ground and your sword is not painted either.

They all lie dead, slabs and cloaks. As you investigate the bodies you find nothing within the cloaks. Simply a sense of animosity.
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Grue

As you enter the room a darkness menaces out of the corner of your eye. You turn around swinging your torch in order to illuminate the enemy but find nothing. In your peripheral vision a wide maw opens white teeth and a howl is heard.

You grip the torch tightly as something lashes out from behind you. The torch falls to the ground and darkness envelops you.

In that darkness, you see it. A slavering maw full of needles below two red eyes. That mouth twice the width of man's shoulders.

The torch is lit and it dissipates a mocking cry eminating from it's maw.
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Poser Sorceror

Surrounded by a few fellows. A long haired figure slouches before you. Squatting in the corner of the room, all of them smoking, he looks up at meets your gaze. Gold dangles from his fingers, ears, and neck. He is clad in a dark clothing with esoteric images embroidered on them. The demeanor of his companions immediately informs you their are his faithful lackeys, riding his coat-tails with a deathgrip.

He introduces himself to you and ask how you find yourself here.
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Goblin Shadows

As you enter further into the room your torch causes the shadows of the room to coalesce into yellow eyes. Then into grey flesh riddled with archaic symbols. They are many. Each mishappen and wretched. None taller than your chest, and each equally pathetic. They hold crude instruments of war, a kid's attempt of picking a prop that resemble swords. They mutter and shriek to one another, fearful of the torch light. None have shadows, neither do they have fine details. Perhaps they are not worthy of those yet.

They do not approach instead merely avoid where the light of the torch spills out. Some hide behind rotted furniture, some force their bodies into the crevises in the walls, some even take to the ceiling to escape.
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Sorceror

The air reeks of ozone as a lone figure enters into your vision. Untouched by dirt his clothes are all bespoke and elegant. White robes swaddle his body and contrast with the grimy and soiled floor below his feet. He doesn't speak but merely stares through you.
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Church of the Mouse

A solemn temple stands amidst the fog. Forms of clergy walk further inside, each masked. You enter further and they turn to you. Edifices of wood covering their appearence and a mouse sits on the shoulder of each. They don't seem to have weapons instead a simple rope belt surrounds their waist. They sand silently as if waiting for you to speak.

In response a mouse sitting on the shoulder of the monk in front of you squeeks.

One leaves and then returns with a vial. He sets it down before you and steps back a distance before gesturing to it as the mouse squeeks yet again.

You imbibe the potion and suddenly the squeeking of the mice turns to words. The mice introduces themselves to you:
"We are the beautiful ones." Please, if you wish to take shelter enter our home.

You enter the temple and instead inside find a forest glen. They offer you another vial.

"Though we do not merely offer all in charitable assistance, we have need for defense against eye-blights, we can tell your our own occult truths, but for a price"
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Wilted Goblin Tree

Roots penetrate from the floor upwards. Warted and black these tentacles coil together and branch out like a tree. It reeks of vommit and seemingly bleeds slime from it's three open wounds.
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Goblin Tree

You recognize the mass of wires, tubules, and unnatural shapes as another fruit from which Goblin-Fruits grow.

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Stilt Walker

It stands a little taller than you, the figure's meager chest puny in comparison to the length stretched out for its limbs. Bones clearly broken and lengthened outwards. What may have once been a mouth full of few teeth has been replaced by a maw of iron nails, each rusted. Similar to the etchings of the goblin shadows the flesh of the figure is marked. Symbols archaic but easily understood. Torture, death, and woe to ontu others. Two yellow orbs each without a pupil stare back at you filled with envy and loathing; of joys you have had, of friends you had made, of smiles shared in confidence. Each something this creature has never enjoyed. It snarls unafraid of the light and raises its hands to evoke eldritch power.
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Erasmus

You enter the room and see a seated figure. As you stare at the figures pale body every use of the word gaunt now seems insincere. His skin is more tightly wound than the rope around the hanged man. Veins, muscle fibers, and bones menace outward as if every non-essential viscera was discarded. A thin beard covers his mouth and a mop of black of hair is tied back atop itself. His head bowed, shadows cast from his brow turn his eyes into caverns above sharp cheekbones. Both hands supinated sit empty above a black cloth surround his lower body.

A halo shimmers around his head, a tumult of white and gold the only clean thing in these filthy halls. Extending from between his shoulder blades it's zenith ends several inches above his forehead, the sphere centered between his brow.

A moment passes and both eyes open, each filled with flame.

Ax Gang HD1 DEF2 DAM1d6 MV12 SV6 MO8
Grue HD5 DEF2 DAM1d6/1d6/1d8 MV8 SV9 MO15
Goblin Shadows HD0 DEF0 DAM1d6 MV12 SV6 MO5
Hollows HD4 DEF6 DAM1d8+2 MV13 SV9 MO20
Poser Sorceror HD- DEF0 DAM1d6+1 MV12 SV9 MO10
Lackeys HD1 DEF0 DAM1d6 MV12 SV6 MO8
Stilt Walker HD2 DEF0 DAM1d6 MV12 SV6 MO5
Sorceror HD- DEF4 DAM2d6+2 MV12 SV13 MO15


Magical Items that can be purchased in Ozborn
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Bottle Imp: Black
Answers one question truthfully. Knows everything that Hell knows (which is damn near everything). If you eat it, or if it crawls down the throat of an intact corpse, it can possess that body for 30 minutes. Dies quickly upon contact with air. Can only answer questions that start with “what”.
Bottle Imp: Blue
Answers one question truthfully. Knows everything that Hell knows (which is damn near everything). If you eat it, or if it crawls down the throat of an intact corpse, it can possess that body for 30 minutes. Dies quickly upon contact with air. Can only answer questions that start with “why” or “how”.
Bottle Imp: Green
Answers one question truthfully. Knows everything that Hell knows (which is damn near everything). If you eat it, or if it crawls down the throat of an intact corpse, it can possess that body for 30 minutes. Dies quickly upon contact with air. Can only answer questions that start with “when” or “where”.
Bottle Imp: Red
Answers one question truthfully. Knows everything that Hell knows (which is damn near everything). If you eat it, or if it crawls down the throat of an intact corpse, it can possess that body for 30 minutes. Dies quickly upon contact with air. Can only answer questions that start with “who”.
Speak With Beasts
You can speak with all non-swimming, non-flying, non-crawling, animals for 3 minutes (use a timer). Smaller animals tend to be smarter. Carnivores tend to be demanding.
Speak With Birds
You can speak with all flying animals for 3 minutes (use a timer). Birds are usually very smart, very stupid, or very smart and pretending to be stupid. Migrating birds are the primary source of gossip in the world, especially modern gossip.
Speak With Crawling Things
You can speak with all crawling things (such as lizards and slugs) for 3 minutes (use a timer). Reptiles tend to be careful, pragmatic, and stubborn. They usually know the deep history of a place. Insects know many useful things, but they struggle with human concepts of time and identity.
Speak With Dead
You can speak with a corpse as long as it has an intact mouth (or if you reattach the jawbone) for 3 minutes (use a timer). They tend to be incoherent, obtuse, and prone to reminiscing.
Speak With Fish
You can speak with swimming things for 3 minutes (use a timer). Cetaceans want to know all about you so they can fit you into their theories and stories. Fish tend to be amazed by everything, forgetful, and a little awkward. Sharks talk of nothing else except eating
Speak With Metal
You can speak with metal for 3 minutes (use a timer). Metal tends to have a pretty good knowledge of everything that has directly happened to it since it was forged, but not things that happened to it. Weapons speak of their kills; locks speak of what they guard. Cursed and trapped metal objects tend to be liars.
Speak With Plants
You can speak with plants for 3 minutes (use a timer). Plants often have either a deep-seated hatred towards things that eat them and cut them down, or resignation. Trees tend towards the hateful side of things, and sigh a lot. Flowers tend to be optimistic idiots and/or sexually graphic. Grasses are nearly impossible to talk to because they all shout at once.

Sons of Nalil: POWERFUL

Those who travel through the lands of Dix find themselves sullied and stained red. From the crimson skies above, to the rust covering stone and steel, to the blood seeped in the earth. A red tint develops in the eyes of those who stay too long and the red haze of rage slowly envelops their sight.

Deep in the valleys of Dix, amidst the ruined edifices of red brick, live the Sons of Nalil. The totems each tribe has erected rusted monoliths to victory in war. There are no women among the Nalil, only men. None are born in these lands, instead youths at the end of their frailty spill forth from the fog and are embraced by the Nalil. There is no youth, no old age either. The oldest of the Nalil having lived 20 years after being found from the fog. Nude and nameless, each is fully formed with capacity for speech and song in their shared tongue and knowing only one fact as truth, that he is a Son of Nalil. They stumble through the valleys until they find a tribe and taught their future fate. To sing songs of glory as they race till to death.

Most are fair-skinned with brown hair, but their coloration varies from pitch black, to a coward's yellow, to the amber hues of dusk. Their build varies from that of obese giants to gaunt dwarfs. In memory to their past victories, many etch their skin with the rusted iron which spills from the earth. Their flags are colored gray and red. They skulk around in boots of black leather and girded loins of white cloth. They show their teeth to all, each one etched with threats, symbols, and names with golden ink.

They are to men as locusts are to ants. Unorganized, swarming, with a thirst for consumption that leaves land barren. Many form bands of mercenaries that travel to foreign lands to spill their own blood upon foreign soils. Returning with coffers filled not with silver, but instead with hedonistic means. Few settle down becoming merchants selling packaged mirth to dispel sobriety for the victory feasts of those who wage war in the valleys of Dix still.

They probably look like this, note the posse's faces behind him 
(Couldn't find the artist)

Ask any Nalil what is best in life and he will easily tell you the celebration of victory. It is not enough to kill a man, one must sing songs of glory at his death. Wars waged among the Nalil echo and reverberate through the valleys. The screams of death are deafened by the bellows of victory and tribes learn of outcomes of battles by the echoing war songs of their neighbors.

Though Dix falls underneath the rule of the Empire of the Alabaster Crown, the Nalil are free from their rule. They have no throne to plunder and do not spill forth from their valleys often. Tax collectors are scarce to enter the valleys and often simply seek that most powerful tribe to extort the others for them.

Noteworthy tribes:

Hyo-Gje-Gan (The Sacred Brotherhood):

In ages past the leader of the Hyo-Gje-Gan was the king of the Nalil. The tribe claimed that it knew Nalil himself and could converse with the still living ogres residing in those lands. The ogres won them wars waged against the other tribes and as such their victory was seen as favor by Nalil. Time passed and the Hyo-Gje-Gan grew old, their numbers shrank and their ogres, once their allies faded into extinction. Their symbol is a series of triangles.

A Nalil returning home. Art by Simon Bisley

It-Ji-Ma (The Doom of Boots):

The current ruling tribe of the Nalil resides in the deepest valley. From their black cauldrons they pour libations of mirth and restoration. Once subservient to the Hyo-Gje-Gan they rebelled after being forced to leave behind corpses of their tribe. The Hyo-Gje-Gan fell in one night their numbers being reduced to less than a dozen even before the attack. All were spared and instead their totems were crushed underneath the boots of the It-Ji-Ma. The It-Ji-Ma drink from their boots and are notorious within the Nalil for consuming enough hedonistic means to kill a man. It is said that many in their tribe have never seen battle sober. Their symbol is a black boot.

Heu-Gin (The Black): 

Considered savages even among the Nalil, The Heu-Gin live for war. Their victoroes are recounted from the trophies they take of the dead. Thought to be poor allies by other tribes, they often are absent from conflict and instead simply choose to aid one tribe over another. The Nalil who have left for lands outside of Dix, have almost all been of the Heu-Gin. Once a Commander of the Empire of the Alabaster Crown invaded the valleys of Dix in order to subordinate the Nalil. While the rest of Nalil deliberated in a great conclave, the Heu-Gin slaughtered the invading forces save for one man. The lone survivor was sent back with neither hands nor teeth. They do not grant mercy to those they face. The other tribes seem them cursed, and offer them more pity than hatred. Their symbol is the a splash of white.

Joh-Deh-Han (The Sweating Bear): 

Though the ogres are now extinct, their legacy lives on in the girth of the Joh-Deh-Han. Towering over other Nalil and weighing as much as four, they lead lethargic lives until finally roused to action. It is said they have the strength of 4 men and have been known to rip trees from the ground. Their symbol is a pair of concentric circles and many act as mediators to other tribes in times of conflict.

A Son of Nalil serving as a mercenary far from home. Art: Frank Frazzeta

Pal-Gan-Sae (The Red Bird): 

A tribe which has since left the valleys of Dix for permanent employment as a mercenary company elsewhere, the Pal-Gan-Sae were once a great ally to the Hyo-Gje-Gan. Their departure marked the beginning of the erosion of the Hyo-Gje-Gan's rule. They have now taken to the customs of their employer in dress and decorum, but still sing their songs in battle. Upon their banner now flies a red griffon and their number slowly dwindle with each campaign.

There are numerous other tribes, each with their own customs and lore. The Nalil meet in great number once every few years to elect a true king, who then rules over the valley as a whole. Each tribe solves their own conflict, but for great tragedies the king is sought out. Explorers into the valleys of Dix and even the Nalil themselves know not who or what Nalil is. Some view it as the valley itself which spawns the Nalil from the fog. Others instead hold Nalil to be the redness so pervasive through out the valley, for why else do the Nalil bleed red?

Nalil War Party

Bunch of these.

HD 1d4 +5
Def:2
Dam: grappling/brawling with swords 1d8+2 or 1d8+2 bows
Move: 10 + 1d4
Save: 6 +1 per Nalil singing
Morale:8 +1 per Nalil singing
# encountered: 1d6+2

Song of Glory: Every time the PC's fail to hit, take damage, or the Nalil makes a save (or really anytime where it is evident that the Nalil is better than a PC) he begins singing a song of glory. Nalil warsongs terrify many, any time a Nalil begins singing or joins into song any followers or hirelings are to make a morale save or flee. Nalil will not chase fleeing enemies.

Mercy: If the Nalil are asked for mercy they will spare the life of anyone asking, mercy can be asked on behalf of party members that gain fatal wounds. If the Nalil are attacked first, there is only a 1 +1 per Nalil singing in 6 of mercy, with a penalty of 2 for any Nalil killed in combat. (the Heu-Gin don't do this)

Carousing among the Nalil:

 Male or male appearing characters get a -2 to their charisma check to carouse with an additional -1 for each point of strength above 14. 

Nalil war party returning victorious. Art: Clemente Allesandro

Nalil Victory Feasts 

Often when the Nalil wage war among themselves only few die. Death is rare and is often an outcome of circumstance rather than intent. To a Nalil if you slay your foe, there is one less person who must accept your glory and worth. Because of this many wage war unarmed, like great apes culling another tribe. To outsiders their wars may first seem like a series of wild duels, each tribesman finding his opposite and confronting them by themselves. When their foe falls unconscious, they turn to assist their brothers and sing their song of victory.

Their war songs and victory songs are one and the same. Nalil sing of past victories as they charge another. As victories mount, their song lengthens turning into an oral history. Songs are simple and often bear a repeated refrain which identify the singer's tribe. The repeated refrain of the It-Ji-Ma is below.

It-Ji-Ma!

Arrows shall fly

This our homicide

Mothers will cry

This our lullaby

It's about us

Not about I

It's about trust 

Not about lies

Returning from war, the Nalil return to their halls bruised and singing. They gather means to dispel sobriety and feast till unconsciousness. During festivals, which each tribe has per season, they invite allies and friends. Not of the tribe itself, but of it's members and festivals are often mistaken for wars for this very reason.  Shared songs of the Nalil are sung, each glorifying the exploits of their exploits outside the valley of Dix. The cauldrons are sloshed fulled of the accumulated alcohol beverage and secret herbs grown deep in the valleys are added. A frothing mix of pink and black liquid bubbles and is ladled out for consumption in drinking horns.

Accurate Depiction of Nalil Drink. Art: Eric Deschamps

Maidens of Dix often steal away from their homes and run into these valleys on nights of such festivals. Their parents and the nobles of Dix are rather opposed to this. On nights of Nalil festivals knights patrol around the valleys searching for maidens wishing to sneak in. Recently, some of the more prominent families have been funding mercenaries to go into the valleys to penetrate the festivals of the Nalil and to return any maidens found. The Nalil rarely see conflict with such parties and often usher the girls out, the Heu-Gin are noteworthy in that they refused to honor such mercenaries and slaughtered the first such party. The maidens seeing such bloodshed then ran off, much to the Heu-Gin's dismay.

Nalil Carousing Mishap Table 1d8

1: In your drunken state you punched a hole in a wall. The Nalil take retribution, save or take 1d6 damage (if carousing with the Heu-Gin Save vs Death).
2: The Nalil thought that your drunken state was a wonder to see. They kept plying you with drink tll you passed out. -1 to all rolls for 1 day (if carousing with the It-Ji-Ma -2 to all rolls for 1d4+1 days).
3: You somehow prevented one of the Nalil from getting laid. Roll charisma, if successful all of the other tribesmen think this was hilarious and think you a friend of the tribe.
4: The last potion/medicene/ect you imbibed had an adverse effect on the drink of the Nalil, you passed out after your first drink and get no XP.
5: You got into a fist fight with the drunkest member of the tribe and won. He now plots revenge, not your demise, just mass embarrassment.
6: You awaken with a new tattoo and a new friend. A Nalil who bears a matching tattoo.
7: You confess your love to one of the maidens of Dix who stole away from her parents to mingle with the Nalil. She confesses her love to you in turn and one of the Nalil declares you wed as a joke, hastily penning a letter to this girls parents. In the morning you awaken and realize that you hate her.
8: You were convinced by the tribe to follow them into battle in their next war. The next war is in 1d6+1 days. If you don't follow them into battle the tribe will think you a coward, if you do then have the character fight with a Warband of the Nalil alongside 1d4+1 Nalil Members of the tribe they were carousing with. If victorious, your character will be made an honorary member of the tribe.

Closing notes

The main source of inspiration for the Sons of Nalil were my experiences playing rugby during college. Referees can make their own tribes by drawing from their own experiences playing team sports in high school or college. Three major cultural aspects to emphasize for the Nalil outside of what's listed above would be the following. First, constant comradery even in insulting each other. Second, their lack of an identity and even concept of a life outside of wars, celebration, and songs of victory. Lastly, an emphasis on lack of structure and general tumultuous, ideally a party encountering the Nalil would be overwhelmed by a whirlwind of events happening.