~ Every day for the rest of August, I'm posting content for the Journeylands mini-RPG playtest! Find out more and get the rules for free right here. ~
A Point for use in your Journeylands game - but written to be fairly system-neutral up until the end bit, so run it with whatever you want and change the racing to fighting or something if needed.
Written after watching an episode of Lupin
III Part V. I’m not as into this Part overall as I was the last, but it’s
slowly winning me over with some excellent translation work and these fun
little “flashback” digressions to previous jacket colours.
A drug lord had a secret retreat here in ancient times, a
private villa where he would entertain lovers away from prying eyes. It is
believed that he was buried there, and some say his most prized treasures are
still deep within the ruins with him.
Thieves and those who have tried to raid the tomb will know
that there are traps still working – “watch out for the eyes”. Explorers and
wanderers from nearby will have heard that a cursed flower grows on his grave,
and even breathing the air brings sickness. Stories of the man himself range as
you would expect of a drug lord, but all speak of a love for excess.
Yellow Flowers
As you approach the old entranceway, overgrown with rust and
jungle plants, a faint sweet smell wafts out to greet you. Inside the villa,
the smell is thick, strong and nearly unbearable. The flowers grow everywhere.
Every in-game hour (or, even better, real-world 10 minutes –
set a timer) that trespassers spend inside, breathing the air, increase
the effects of the yellow flowers by 1 on the scale below.
Temporary fixes like a cloth over the mouth delay the
effects from starting for 1 increment of time. A character can reduce the effects on themselves to
the previous stage by spending an equal increment of time outside in fresh air.
1: A tickling
around the inside of the mouth. Thickening mucus in the nose and
throat.
2: The eyes begin to itch. Treat
normal light as dim light.
3: A hacking cough – save vs
coughing or become unable to keep quiet until you recover.
4: Difficulty breathing. Movement
and reactions become sluggish.
5: Begins choking on own mucus. Will
die if left untreated.
The Villa
The villa consists of an open plan lounge and entertaining
space, as well as a kitchen and a private bedroom with an en suite. One final
door leads to a back room.
Everything is old, once ostentatious but now weathered and dirty,
overgrown with vines and weeds. Insects flit through the muggy air. A portrait hangs of what must be the man
himself, posing by a sports car with several beautiful onlookers. There is a
craps table that might be functional, and next to it a gaming machine that is
very much not.
And everywhere, the musk of those yellow flowers.
The Skeleton Staff
Three skeletons stand around: one in the kitchen, one by a
craps table in the lounge, and one in the bedroom. These are the remains of the
kingpin’s staff, their lives gone with his, like servants in a pharaoh’s pyramid.
The skeletons can barely move, crumbling away and grown
through with flowers, but they are animated and act as they did in life. They
assume trespassers are guests of their boss, and are polite conversationalists.
They speak highly of their employer, admitting that his life
was a dangerous one and full of hard decisions, but speaking to a depth of
character and a good heart. He supposedly treated them well, though nobody was
ever allowed in the back room except a select few guests.
The skeletons mildly protest, and then use force, if they
see anyone attempting to enter the back room.
Snot Sloths
These dumb beasts hang from old pipes in the ceiling, living among the branches of
trees that have crept their way into the back room.
The yellow flower dulls their senses pleasantly, though they
are allergic to it. Thick, globby strings of mucus dangle from their noses,
hanging from the ceiling above like vines, shuffling and wobbling around with
the creatures’ slow movement.
The snot strands will occasionally plop to the floor under
their own weight – there is a translucent coating of hardened mucus encrusting
everything on the ground, including several shiny coins, gummed-up old gears
and pieces of machinery.
The sloths are utterly docile, but if anyone attempts to
remove the flowers from their room, they will revolt. They are slow, and only
attack half as often as anything else, but their claws are incredibly long and
surprisingly nimble – there is nowhere to stand in the back room without being
in range of their slashes and scratches.
Right Antechamber
There is an open hallway to the right of the back room,
leading to a circular antechamber. A magical stone eye guards the passage,
rolling around in a disturbing facsimile of life. Anything that would blind an
eye works here.
If the eye sees intruders try to pass, a little mechanical
arm that protrudes from the wall will fire spurts of purple paint. This
permanently dyes anything, including skin. Some sloth snot would gum up the arm
easily.
Within the antechamber, among the yellow flowers and the
thick haze of pollen they expel, are a couple of old skeletons, a small amount
of money, and a big skull statue. Water pours from its open mouth in a steady
trickle, into a basin that is overflowing and dripping everywhere, presumably
feeding the plant life.
Left Antechamber
An open hallway to the left of the back room leads to
another antechamber, mirroring the one on the right. This magic eye blinks a
lot, and its arm doesn’t spray purple paint – it just likes slapping things out
of people’s hands. It’s very fast.
In this room the basin is bigger, large enough for several
people to get into even, but there is no water flow. A golden goblet sits on
the basin edge, probably used to fill it. If only there was a water source
nearby… the players could use their waterskins, but that probably wouldn’t fill the
basin up more than a tenth of the way, and then they wouldn’t have anything to
drink.
If the basin is filled, the water will magically drain away
into the stone, revealing a trapdoor that was not there before.
Beyond the Trapdoor
The door opens and descends down a gentle slope into a large
natural cavern. An underground river bisects the room, with the players
emerging from the slope on one side. Blind, translucent fish swim in the clear
water.
On the other shore sleeps a creature – a giant panther, with
a head like a black-furred snake and far too many legs. It is collared and
chained to a post, but the chain is more than long enough to give it free reign
of its side of the cave, and it can climb adeptly.
On its side of the cave are piles of
bones – fish, mostly, with a few human skeletons in tattered, purple-stained rags. It has
a little collection of pet toys in various colours, and the purple one is by
far the most loved, in the way that animals love things with their teeth and
claws.
Beyond the beast’s domain is a bulkhead door with a big
circular handle to open it, like a safe.
The Secret Track
The door opens onto dark tunnels. Lights flicker on in
sequence, revealing an underground race track. Two cars stand ready – between
them, a skeletal figure beckons, tattered old racing gear flapping in another
world’s breeze, hollow eyes eager for a challenge.
The wraith lets the challenger choose their car. One is
sleeker and flashier, one more reliable looking. Both are extravagant and well-kept,
famous models that were the height of luxury collector cars in their day. Stat
them with 8s and 10s.
The wraith has A6 C10 T8. Its Trait is Kingpin, and it can
upgrade its ACT die in any roll it makes while cheating or playing dirty on the
track – however it will only do so in retaliation if it first suspects foul
play, and it much prefers a fair race and honest sportsmanship. Roll a best of 3 contested rolls to represent the laps, and narrate along.
If it is beaten in a race, or the race is good enough to
make it recall its glory days, it will fade into the next life. The skeleton
staff in the villa will move on as well. The cars will resume their true forms
as age takes hold of them and they rust away, and the yellow flowers will begin
to die and wither.
The winning driver finds themselves suddenly adorned with a
gold medal worth 2k, or 3k to a collector. The medallion was a distinguishing
mark of this particular drug lord, and even these days has a certain cache in
local crime circles.