Scenario Seeds: Obelisks III

Obelisks III

One
Javver huddled in the dark. Shivering. Bleeding. Praying that that thing snuffling around in the cellar couldn't smell his blood. No one had told him that there were Snouters under the old Apothecary-Shop. No one had warned him that the obelisk was a sending from some sow-queen of Kalkendru. His teachers wanted to see how he handled their little test.


Two
What kind of a person carves an obelisk from the trunk of a tree dragged across the threshold from the Purple Forest? And in an attic no less. Why would they sacrifice all those penguins, bats and pigeons to the thing, smearing it all haphazardly with feathers and blood? Who is that behind you?


Three
Oneiroliths are notoriously unstable. Half-solidified phantasmal residue left behind by inattentive Dreamers or sloppy Oneirists. The Red Watch maintains a watch-list of recently-reported oneiroliths, just like they chalk-up unverified spottings of Black Smoke and keep tabs on any rumors of Red Weed or Scarlet Plague outbreaks. They used to consider such things potentially dangerous. Some academic was concerned that the Red Weeds might latch onto one of these things and somehow grow into the local Dreamspaces. It hasn't happened yet. Not that anyone's reported. These days the Red Watch tends to concern itself with real threats and actual dangers. They just don't have the budget nor the manpower to do much more than maintain a list no one cares about any more. So when the report came in of an oneirolithic obelisk it caused a bit of turmoil back at the Main Office. Suddenly everyone wanted access to the list...


Four
 Zoogruth trotted along leisurely, distracted by contemplation of abstract matters. The Fourth Theorem was troubling the old Phorain. She just couldn't reconcile it to her recent observations. Red dust coated her flanks, covered her taloned feet. It reminded her of dried blood. The old days. Not every mercenary managed to escape the mind-bondage most of the hard-line Zurian clans insisted upon. But then not every Phorain had her talent for sorcery. She turned West at the broken pillars of some ruin no one bothered with. Down the narrow defile behind the canopy of clutchy-thorns. Across the small trickling brook all milky-white with alkali-salts. Down. Around. Down some more. There was no path, save in her memory. No one else knew about this spot. This place. Her refuge. There. The obelisk loomed crookedly in the steep-walled crater. This was where everything changed for her. This was where she had learned her first spells. Each one deciphered and translated from the inscriptions on that obelisk. Her obelisk. She never heard Janeska's killing spell.


Five
The old warlords who ruled over Rushtalm had struggled long and hard to overcome the stigma of having a human taint to their blood. For six generations each of them had waged terrible, costly wars upon all their neighbors. Each one was immortalized by an obelisk commemorating their victories. The seventh obelisk remains unadorned, its upper third broken off in the course of the sacking of Rushtalm following the death of the last warlord. No one will speak his name in Rushtalm. It is considered a terrible curse. A reminder of his failure and their loss and the city's fall from preeminence. There are whispered rumors and muttered prophecies of an Eighth Obelisk, the arrival of some heir to the tainted lineage of the old warlords, a return to the greatness of the old days. The janissaries patrolling the muddy streets of this dismal place just wish whoever it was would get on with things so they could either execute them or leave once and for all.


Six
Here's the map. Like I promised. Thanks for the Black Mead. That'll help me sleep tonight. So look here. There are three islands. South of the third reef. Well past red-walled Viridang. They don't ever patrol this far South, so don't worry about them. Each one of these islands is less than a mile across at its widest. All three have a huge obelisk of heavy blue jade at their centers, surrounded by low-walled mazes and writhing vines and the like. The vines are harmless; the things will grab at your boots but they avoid fire. Don't leave any wounded behind, as the vines will take them. Slowly. The screams will last for hours. The bloat-fish with their massive, toothy maws are considered the worst of the prowling things one must keep on guard against. Especially the farther inland one goes. The waters surrounding these islands are fair infested with fist-sized poisonous crustaceans, green-shelled inedible things with stings and pincers. They'll avoid anything coated with mucous, so maybe you'd best see about making some sort of deal with an Octoscholar; they have a few spells along those lines that might prove useful. Just don't tell them where you're going. Not under any circumstance. Oh, and those trees drooping along the inner lagoons of these islands aren't trees at all. They're some kind of anemone. And they will be watching you every step of the way. Burn them. Or else. Damned things massacred my crew. I only barely escaped, far from unscathed, as you can see. Surgeon won't remove the thing. It is too deeply embedded into my flesh now. It's not a bad replacement-hand, all things considered, but it keeps me up at night with its sing-song warbling...

Obelisks I  Obelisks II  Obelisks III

Lithus Sector: Telajan-D (Ju-Hai)

Telajan (Coord.: 06.01)
Part One: System Overview
Part Two: Inner Zone
Part Three: The Planets
     A) Aldrin
     B) Mattigar
     C) Shelg
     D1) Ju-Hai
     D2) Molat
     E) Saxo-Mara
Part Four: Outer Zone
Part Five: Past, Present, Future Imperfect (Telajan)

The planets within the Habitable Zone of the Telajan system have been modified and manipulated on a planetary scale, but to what end, what purpose?

Ju-Hai

Largest of the planets within the Telajan Habitable Zone, Ju-Hai is owned by the Merellon Corporation, at least legally. They hold all Title and Claim to this planet, despite continual challenges by various 'interested parties,' and those who would contest their right to this world in the courts, any courts. Merellon Corp employs an incredibly sophisticated and hierarchically regimented cadre of legal staff larger than some empire's standing armies, and better armed.

Merellon Corp maintains a massive collapsed-durinium-clad arcofort on Lithus Prime just to deal with the ongoing legal turmoil surrounding Ju-Hai and the rest of the Telajan system.

Gaining access to Ju-Hai requires passing through Merellon CorpSec protocols and an inspection that has been immortalized in Lpop music for its overly-diligent invasiveness. No matter how much the PR Teams attempt to soften the impression made by the In-Transit Inspectory (ITI), some fresh new vidiot comes out with a catchy new song lambasting yet another lapse or failure, blowing it all out of proportion and heaping scorn and ridicule upon Merellon Corp. The initial efforts to suppress or drown-out such agitpop efforts only made them all the more popular and successful. Current official policy is to just ignore it all in the hopes that it will just go away once people get bored or the next fad comes along. But it does not go away. If anything the agitpop songdramas, memejingles and rhymeries have proliferated.

Plenty of offworlders still manage to pass the entry protocols (bribery is notoriously unreliable, not recommended and quite steep if you can even locate someone useful who will accept a little well-intentioned graft). Imports are rigorously monitored, checked and re-checked and the list of prohibited substances and cargoes is constantly being upgraded and revised every ten minutes. Non-Corprist interests and businesses have a difficult time navigating the deliberately complicated and ever-changing regulations, mandates, special orders and so forth. Very few non-sponsored or non-subsidized traders can afford to attempt to deal with this planet. Those who do subscribe to the Merellon Trade Network or who mount Merellon Transponders on their ships find that much of the stifling red tape fades away with one click.

Life on Ju-Hai

Ju-Hai is slightly larger than Earth and covered by many seas broken-up by myriads of rocky, mountainous landmasses. Each major land mass is divided into a number of Independent Satrapies. Legally, technically each of these divisions are free to pursue their own agendas, but in reality they are all clients of Merellon Corp. The charters and constitutions of these 'Independent' Satrapies are cynical shams filled with double-talk and nested word-labyrinths of gibberish calculated to prevent anyone outside of the Merellon Legal Department from ever sorting any of it out, and even they require extensive AI-assistance to keep track of all the subtle, inter-textual boobytraps and dead-ends.

A few of the Satrapies have begun to pull away from the Council of Founders, which is the direct management unit under the Atmosphereic Control Authority (ACA) and the Orbital Defense Mandate (ODM) both of which are directly beneath the Ju-Hai committee of the Telajan Project that reports directly to the Lithus Sector Oversight Committee of the Merellon Corp's Sub-Board. Of course, none of the Satrapies currently have the means to really ever break away from Merellon control. They carry far too much debt and are burdened with incredibly onerous penalty clauses, specified transition procedures and a host of sub-clauses and riders to their Charters that make such efforts all but doomed.

But in the face of such entrenched regulatory cynicism there has arisen a host of creative reactions and responses. Those who would call for violent revolution have been remanded to corporate jurisdiction long ago. Extreme rendition truly means something dire and in most cases quite irreversible when you're dealing with a Sector-spanning Megacorp. But such things have only strengthened the resolve, the ingenuity and the determination of a growing caste of increasingly legally-adept practitioners of contra-corporate activity. Engaging, highly netcast episodes of incredibly elaborate forms of civil disobedience have rapidly become not only a populist artform imitated elsewhere (especially within the Aerostat Communes of Aldrin), but have quickly become the number two export and a major part of Ju-Hai's economy.

Merellon Corp now faces something of an existential crisis as they must manage the on-going anti-Corprist activities of the various cells and covies of insurrectional artists, politimpressionists, spontaneos, vote-mobs, and other such things even as all manner of new, feral political movements appear, make their mark and fade or explode into obscurity until revived or remodeled by successors and others.

The political ecology of Ju-Hai has transcended everything else. Subversion has become the norm. Flouting the rules and regs is the established way of doing things. And this is troubling to the CorpSec Overseers who fear that this might eventually lead to a total crash of the rigid structures imposed upon the Satrapies.

Outsiders, especially the more idealistic and radicalized fan-bases of the various Ju-Hai based movements, have been flooding into the pre-fab cities along the coasts and high up in the mountains. Every CorpRetreat and SpaPlex has been overrun by deliberately dirty students, creed-chanters, illicit dance-troupes, mocking clowns, and worse. Squatters, Freegetters, DropOuts, DropIns, and a host of other even more obscure, weird and marginalized sects, parties, non-govs and the like have made Ju-Hai their preferred target destination. Tourist agencies make pilgrimages and even immigration incredibly affordable and accessible. Several competing Missions have taken to sponsoring Fellow Travelers, in some cases going so far as to smuggle in a few of their brethren officially classified as undesirable, at least according to the tabloids and newsfeeds.

The one thing that sets Ju-Hai apart from every other revolution is the deeply ingrained non-violent ethic at the heart of it all. Any schlub can lob a bomb, but who can write a one act play that brings a totalitarian regime sixty-two lightyears away to come crashing to its knees? On Ju-Hai this is not a rhetorical question.

Six Scenarios for Adventuring on Ju-Hai

1. Appleseed Blue is a fresh young start-up that focuses on providing reliable and untraceable immigration to Ju-Hai for any self-styled revolutionist, impressario of social change, or whatever. They charge a steep price due to all the trouble it takes to circumvent the local protocols and counter-measures. A lot of their clientele finance their excursions through FreeBanks, but an increasing number of them use the FinServ Bureau of various private lenders who are offering extremely generous rates, often interest free. Nine out of ten of these operations are part of a holding company under the control of the Merellon Corp. A recent expose revealed some of these sorts of connections, but since the program was sponsored by a Merellon-subsidiary PR firm, no one takes it seriously. What didn't make it into the expose is that Appleseed Blue is also a deep subsidiary of Merellon Corp. That's how they have managed to build-up such an impeccable record in so short a time. A smaller, tramp carrier service that only leases a few de-listed or discontinued small-craft has lodged a complaint. Unfortunately for them, someone within the byzantine hierarchy of Merellon has noted their objections and panicked. A contract for disposable mercenaries was rushed through, ostensibly to 'teach these upstarts a lesson in manners.' The casual trashing of the carrier's offices got out of hand. Two mercs were liquidated and one of the work orders did not self-dissolve properly. Now the small carrier is looking to hire-on some protection for their ships. Your team could be hired as the initial muscleheads, the follow-ups, or maybe you'd prefer to take up arms on behalf of the scrappy little carrier facing down the corporate behemoth. There might even be a dramacast possible, or some sort of realitycast if you jump on the opportunity before someone else does.
2. A group of red-tagged Aerostatists from Aldrin have slipped past the PolDroids in one Satrapy to take temporary refuge in another one. They came here to make recordings and to soak up the unique atmosphere of the on-going struggle here on Ju-Hai with the plan to take it all back to lend verisimilitude and an extravagant, fresh new energy to their own Mardi Gras-esque celebrations. They managed to get more than they counted on and are now on the infamous Dump/Detain/Deport list of enemies of the Ju-Hai state...even though technically there is no overall Ju-Hai state (a mere technicality). These excitable students and their instructors are desperately looking for some way to get word out or to find asylum or passage offworld. Whatever they saw--and recorded--seems to be extremely inflammatory. Are you up to the task of getting them offworld with their data intact?
3. Jack came to Ju-Hai to stir things up once and for all. The very notion of a non-violent protest makes him sick. Physically ill. It's the illicit dolphin-hacked wetware he implemented back at that unlisted clinic on Mattagar. The wetware is malfunctioning, possibly. Or maybe Jack is the pawn of some sinister cabal of malcontents who wish to see Ju-Hai enveloped in flames and madness and war. Whichever might be the case, Jack has begun to make an example of the disgusting peaceniks. They've found three bodies so far. Forensic Psychometrists predict there are at least five more to be uncovered and that the kill-spree is far from over. Local Authorities have gotten too used to petty squabbles and word-fights. They have decided to call in outside experts on violent crime. That'd be you. They want this miscreant found and stopped immediately. Especially as a major holiday is coming up and this psychokiller is upping the ante with each victim.
4. An ambitious young clone from Tregio (00.03) has hired your team as personal Security. She has brought you all to Ju-Hai to help facilitate a project that so far only three people know about. At first you didn't much mind the whole 'Need-To-Know' crap, that kind of thing is just SOP when working with Corprist clients and contracts. But that was before a hit-squad of Parthenogens tried to take you all out with a rather messy IED at the Tregio Sub Port. Then a suicide bomb-clone took out a substantial section of the hull in your part of the transport enroute to Ju-Hai. Maybe it's time you knew what was going on. Yeah. Right. Knowing isn't all it's cracked up to be. Especially when you find out that you're expected to run interference and physical security for a mad woman who is planning to found a New City in the middle of nowhere where there is a glitch in the boundary-marker sub-routines and a small patch of Ju-Hai is legally outside the purview of Merellon Corp. It's a technicality. Pretty damned thin. But someone somewhere is willing to go to extreme measures to stop her. You can walk away, as per the standard clause in your contract...but will you?
5. A virulent and hyper-addictive morphogenic drug has just started popping-up along the more fashionable Happenings and other impromptu events in six widely separated Satrapies at the same time. Merellon CorpSec cannot move against what they suspect as a foreign investor trying to poison the well due to internal conflicts and considerations. They require a discrete, professional Solution to the matter in the next 15 hours. You'll get LuxClass travel arranged both ways, a catering robot and a direct holoLink Rep to help facilitate communications with some very high-level Merellon Execs who wish to remain unverified. The chain of evidence available, such as was provided to you from the CorpSec team, points to the Dolphin Ghettoes under Lascalla, the Southern-most Satrapy and a hot-bed for chemo-separtists. Of course the time-stamps are all smudged, demoted or missing. Everything you've been told is suspect. Potentially untrue or worse, at least according to the dolphin who is Nmailing you. They claim that you're being set-up. Something about provoking an incident. Who do you trust? What do you want to do now that you're on site, on planet?
6. Three hundred years of isolation and info-suppression just ended last Tuesday. The CorpSec firewalls breached. There has been a blacked-out xeno-archaeological dig on Ju-Hai with one of the richest arrays of Precursor relics ever found. All hell is breaking loose as all the academics are filing complaints, and quite a few tomb-poachers have dropped everything to jump all over this site while there is some measure of chaos and jurisdictional indeterminancy. The Xeno-Arc Department of the University of Kaaldu has acted precipitously in sending out a 'Neutral Intervention Team' to take stock of the files, records, and site disposition immediately. Merellon Corp PR is trying to smooth things over, but they've been deeply hacked, possibly by a clandestine team operating from within the blacked-out site itself. Private Collectors are hiring unscrupulous Retrievers to go in and grab what is easily made away with, while every institution with even a modest pretension to xenological interest is calling for sanctions, urging a total repeal of Merellon's ownership of Ju-Hai and all manner of even more drastic measures. Forty-three families through-out the Lithus Sector have declared Vendetta upon Merellon Corp and its Board and Subsidiaries in the name of each one of their members who they believe had their careers ruined or lives cut short by Merellon's duplicity and illegal/unethical restriction on this site. Letters of Marque targeting Merellon Corp holdings or properties are being issued by several small opportunistic principalities. Matters are spinning wildly out of control. Violence has broken out on-site. You can guarantee that you are not the only ones running around with guns and lots of unanswered questions. 

Guide to Lithus Sector (Links)  |  Intro to Lithus Sector  |   Map of Lithus Sector

Rogue Space Resources

Telajan C: Shelg

Telajan (Coord.: 06.01)
Part One: System Overview
Part Two: Inner Zone
Part Three: The Planets
     A) Aldrin
     B) Mattigar
     C) Shelg
     D1) Ju-Hai
     D2) Molat
     E) Saxo-Mara
Part Four: Outer Zone
Part Five: Past, Present, Future Imperfect (Telajan)

 The planets within the Habitable Zone of the Telajan system have been deliberately arranged as part of someone's solar-system-scale garden, but who reshaped these worlds and why?

Shelg

The smallest planet in the Telajan system, Shelg occupies an uneasy position between the placid, gentle inner planets Aldrin and Mattigar, and the more active, dynamic outer planets Ju-Hai and Saxo-Mara.

Shelg has no moon. The algae-rich seas are nearly gelatinous, the only tides are those generated by sub-sea volcanism and tectonic shifting. The atmosphere is breathable, but extremely humid and packed with carbon dioxide to the very threshold of human-acceptable limits.

There are no plants growing above the sloppy, muddy surface of this world. All the plants on Shelg are rhizomatically-linked into a massively parallel network of inter-connected and intertwined roots. The overlapping layers of root-tendrils go down to the very bedrock and in some cases they extend into fissures within the bedrock to continue downwards even farther. So far no one has been able to reliably trace just how deep the roots do in fact extend. Three different expeditions to Shelg have attempted to map-out the pseudo-synapses of the root-network or to trace the extent of the roots, but none have survived past one day on this world (rotational day=36 standard hours).

Most forms of AI, especially the math-based/oriented machine intelligences common to interplanetary vessels and other such mechanisms experience a severe form of feed-back effect upon reaching a point roughly three planetary diameters out from Shelg. Even hardened military-industrial grade AI have been known to crash. There are no clues as to what is behind this effect at this time. all forms of augment Wetware also experience this nullification effect. Whatever is doing this warrants study. Perhaps someone will finance a primitively-equipped mission to Shelg one of these days...if only anyone could identify a likely looking spot to drop-off such a team...

Life on Shelg

There is no above-ground plant-life on Shelg. Everything is below the level of dense, nutrient-rich mud. In place of herbivores, there are quite a number of mudskippers, lungfish and other such animals, as well as vast mycological and bacteriological colony-forms that live out their lives entirely within the thin muddy layer that provides a sort of protective sheathe over the vast root-networks. The average depth of the mud is approximately 10 to 60 feet, with a few areas, mostly along the coastlines, being as shallow as 1-10' deep in spots, but these areas are almost always also somewhat covered by a secondary layer of murky water that tends to make them exceptionally treacherous to normal modes of ground travel.

It is not wise to try to walk about on Shelg without personal flotation systems, stilts or a mech-walker frame. Indeed, with the discovery of the pirahna-like swarmers and the mudgators reported by the last mission to Shelg from Kaaldu's College of BioDiversity, it is a good idea to make use of armored rafts, armored airboats, or grav-skiffs and avoid contact with the mud altogether.

When it is not raining, it is drizzling or sleeting when a cold front moves in. Visibility on Shelg is extremely hampered by all the mist, fog and near-perpetual rains. Weather on Shelg is driven by upwelling hot-spots in the seas where sub-sea volcanoes produce fluctuating columns of warm water. The average period without rainfall tends to be less than ten minutes once every day in the equatorial zones, twice that in the polar regions. Climatology on Shelg is considered to be artificially modulated according to prevailing theories, but no one has found the means by which it is being manipulated or regulated. Again, no one knows where to send an expedition in order to find out.

Automated aerial recon-drones were released into the upper atmosphere of Shelg on four different occasions. All of those systems flatlined upon deployment. To this day the drones float above the thunderclouds, inert and useless.

Six Scenarios for Adventuring on Shelg

1. The Melinda-Maru crashed along the 24th parallel on Shelg. The owners-of-record want to salvage the contents of the ship. They have written-off the crew and already disbursed death benefits. There's no ticket home for any survivors; they're effectively non-persons now, thanks to standard corporate policy. Your team has been contracted to assist with the salvage operation. There are Corprist PR types as well as some hazed-out R&D types included in the mission-crew. There is no fraternization allowed, officially. Unofficially, you've gotten to meet a few of the PR types. They're lousy at gambling. They're also all clones. Disposable Mission-Objective Clone Employees, by the RFIDcodes. The Salvage rig is about to be dropped into place. Three Diameters out. Do you really want to go down to Shelg?
2. A Dumbcam was retrieved from Shelg by a team of students from one of the socialized secondary schools on Kaaldu as part of an otherwise innocuous class competition. They posted the images recovered from Shelg. There were hominids of some sort spotted in three of the photostills. They were engaged in what could only be some sort of hunting ritual. They were in the process of surrounding a human that has since been identified as Georgina J. Randolph, a grad-student at the College of Biodiversity at Kaaldu. She was a member of the Third Expedition to Shelg. that team was reported lost six years ago.
3. Ruben Aniard of Tregio (00.03) has invented a 'Closed-Loop Data-Shield' that he wants to test-out by sending a group of volunteers to Shelg. If the new systems work properly, then there might be a way to get past the barrier that crashes AIs. Of course, if the systems fail...you'll have to bring back whatever telemetry or other data you can salvage with you, assuming the recovery pod works as well. It is a refurbished and stripped-down chassis gutted from an ancient Belter-pod, given a flexform aeroshell and completely manual controls. If it doesn't blow up, it ought to make it back out. This job does offer hazard pay up front.
4. A group of Achernarian investors have begun to offer special weekend getaway tour packages to certain very isolated islands in the Southern Hemisphere of Shelg. This offer is only ever extended to a highly select clientele and comes at an exorbitant price. One of the potential clients contacted by the Achernarians is an undercover operative for a team of interstellar crime-fighters recently deported from Lithus Prime. This person has contacted your team for assistance in investigating just how the Achernarians are getting down onto the surface of Shelg and back again with no apparent difficulties. The agent has accepted the offer and registered for a group-hunting expedition. If you accept the offer, your team is expected to accompany the agent disguised as exotic game hunters.
5. A Fourth Expedition to Shelg is currently being organized by an Exploratory Committee on Kaaldu (03.04). The Committee is accepting applications and try-outs. Do you have what it takes? Can you convince the Committee?
6. Captain Reynaldo of the Topaz Rogue comes up to your table at Humphrey's Cafe Algerian at Port White House on Layer Seven in orbit around Donthir (07.02) and drops dead from seventeen expertly grouped microburns through his midsection, obviously the work of Imperial Calmers. He also drops a bundled package. Inside is a weird tuber. It's a node taken from the root-networks on Shelg. The file attached refers to the thing as a 'mandrake,' and there are three diagnostic and analysis reports on the flimsidrive. This is the real thing. What would you like to do now?

Guide to Lithus Sector (Links)  |  Intro to Lithus Sector  |   Map of Lithus Sector

Rogue Space Resources

From Nagrothea (A Random Table...)

Items Suspected of Originating in Nagrothea (D20)

1. A monocle fashioned from faceted green glass. It adheres to your skin and won't be removed by anything less than using the Voorish Sign. It allows the wearer to clearly see Perdu, automatically Read Magic, and gain a +1 bonus to hit all invisible or insubstantial creatures with melee weapons or spells. However, it also has a distressing tendency to attract Unseen Beasts and Horla, which some feel is a bad bargain.
2. A delicately carved translucent bone flute that can be used to attract or repel Drab Jellies when played correctly.
3. One heavily creased, folded, mutilated and marked-up copy of Wilkinson's Expurgated Guide to Contemporary Aklo Grammar. Reduces casting time for all spells or rites arranged in Aklo by (1d20%).
4. (1d4) cut-glass alcohol lamps etched with layered demi-glyphs that are arranged so as to cast warding shadows across the walls of a small room. Acts like a randomly determined Scroll of Protection for as long as the alcohol lasts.
5. A battered and dented old Zoetrope fitted with a band depicting an incomplete set of Tarot cards that has been severely scribbled over and blotted out in part. Only four cards can be clearly identified and they belong to a macabre deck heretofore unknown to any serious collector or known authority.
6. A pristine copy of Aldermeir's Prospectus of Sublimation set in strict, orthodox Drugazian type. Unfortunately all the essential keys to the various esoteric sequences have been removed, rendering the book all but useless except as a door-stop.
7. A moth-eaten cloak of bat's wool that still carries a base 60% chance to render the wearer totally ignorable to lesser forms of undead.
8. A folio of poetry rendered by a fine, scribal hand in the utmost Positurri calligraphic style including a version of Keat's Lamia done entirely in the blood of the inscriber. Repeated reading of the piece carries a slight chance of either attracting a Lamia or of corrupting the reader into a passionate devotee to the ways of the Lamia-bound. There are those who claim that one reading performed under the proper conditions could grant some measure of skill in Poetry...but this could well just be a cruel lie circulated by the Lamia-spawn who find this all one exquisite joke.
9. The extremely rare Second Volume of Sonnets 37-68 of The Fungi From Yuggoth in the original Azodian. Originally this was a spurious forgery, at least according to most mainstream sources. There are others who claim that the book was recovered by a now-forgotten dreamer, a nameless oneiricist who specialized in retrieving unwritten books. Since only three copies have survived intact, they're still quite valuable. To the right collector. Having the book in one's possession tends to foment increasingly disturbing nightmares, requiring a Save once a night in order to avoid suffering a temporary -1 penalty to WIS. Anyone reaching 0 WIS wanders off into the night, most are never heard from again.
10. A stout, metal-bound dark wood box containing scores of banned dissertations. Anyone opening the box must Save or suffer a deep and abiding intellectual malaise persisting for 1d4 weeks during which time they will find it impossible to learn new spells, write anything original, or discuss anything in detail without growing entirely too bored to concentrate. Repeated attempts to examine the contents of this box could lead to a prolonged inability to cast spells above 6th level.
11. (1d4) Bottles of hand-blown blackened glass containing effervescent wines that can only be drunk in the middle of a dream.
12. A three-ring binder packed with uneven yellowed pages filled with a densely scratchy-scrawled manuscript of dream interpretations, all of them terribly, horribly wrong.
13. An elegantly filigreed bone tube fitted with triangular knobs on either end. Any scroll inserted into this case is re-written into a flawed version of Zaftigery that has been revised by a sadistic Morlock gourmand.
14. A wonderfully well-wrought platinum fountain pen that makes it entirely impossible to ever write a sonnet ever again, no Save allowed. If wielded as a stabbing weapon it is -1 to hit, +2 to damage, with a 25% chance to strike an opponent unable to read poetry ever again, should they fail to make a Save.
15. A grub-leather slipcase secured with red thread and a lead seal stamped with the wardent impramitur of Domdre Mergue is alleged to contain one of the only known copies of The Wermic Journal of the Transgressive Octovoid. It is to be noted that Mergue disappeared under suspicious circumstances involving some sort of negotiations with what is whimsically referred to as a 'cabal of Horla.' Everyone knows that such a thing is utterly impossible, absolutely preposterous.
16. A cover-less and beer-stained Etrurian-to-Aklo Dictionary missing the middle 80-or-so pages. On one of the remaining pages there is a set of hastily-written notes regarding some sort of Brazen Seal. Too bad the illustration accompanying the notes was ripped out of the book.
17. Three over-large and deformed penguin-skulls mounted atop a sturdy black handle wrapped in Marmoset-leather. Each of the skulls will bite for (2d4) damage when wielded as a weapon. The skulls also can be used in conjunction with Contact Other Plane spells, as well as in the casting of Summon/Banish Giant Albino Penguin, Protection From Penguin-kind, Reverberation of the White Cascade, Inflict Cataract, among other even more obscure and less well-known spells. At least one semi-reliable source asserts that this three-skulled tri-mace can also be set-up in a three-way crossroads and used to capture and interrogate spirits who can be bribed to teach some of the spells mentioned. Details of how to go about this particular rite are said to be encoded within a volume of the Liber Penguinus believed to be in the collection of a Triloo librarian known as Idvard.
18. A complete skull-extraction tool-kit hand-crafted from the finest stainless steel and platinum, each piece expertly balanced and lovingly embedded within a black lacquer case lined with crushed velvet. Three hidden, parallel drawers in the front slide out to reveal a set of anatomical diagrams, an illustrated guide to basic flensing, flaying and skinning techniques, and a pamphlet discussing how to fully clean and preserve a freshly extracted skull.
19. Delicate and demur, this elegant cameo carved from oily black stone grants the wearer the ability to see past the flesh to the bones beneath. The effect lingers for one month after removing or ridding one's self of the outre bit of jewelry, but having worn it even for a few minutes grants a permanent +1 to all CHAR reactions with Osteomorphs, Bone-Cullers and related cultists.
20. A small, tapered vial of lovely yellowed glass with a finger-bone stopper. It contains one full dose of the toxic substance used by the Moulders to reshape the bones of their victims. Upon contact with flesh the brownish paste actively burrows towards any calcium-deposits such as bones where it bonds with them and renders them stiffly malleable for the next (1d4) x10 minutes, during which time the bones can be manipulated and shaped like sculptor's putty. The changes remain permanent.

The place was dark and dusty and all but lost
Deep within tangled, twisted alleys near the high-quays,
Stinking of strange things brought in from the skies.
Reeking with foul, feral miasmas,
Speckled suspiciously by whimpering grimes,
The fog clinging to everything that walks.
Behind dimly lit windows,
Obscured by smog-grit and quivering slime,
Could be seen the books, in piles like twisted pillars,
Wormeaten, ragged and tattered, frayed and fraying,
Rotted and rotting, arrayed from floor to roof;
Grimoires from Ganderkan and Mokthay,
Tomes of esoteristry not even the Dol-men have tried,
Battered old Almanacs from far river bank towns,
Manuscripts, folios, private editions, banned dissertations,
Hundreds and hundreds, score upon score of peculiar and forgotten lore,
All that crumbling wisdom was available at so little cost.
A few coins and a soul,
and it could all be yours in a trice.

Little Green Bag (Random Table, Any System)

Little Green Bag (I)
You find a little green bag. In it there might be...

1. (3d4) severed human hands. All of them extremely well-preserved, pliant and slightly warm to the touch. They have all but healed at the point where they were removed from their original bodies. One of the hands is wearing a milky jade ring carved into the likeness of three vigorously entwined serpents.
2. A partridge mounted on a deftly trimmed section of a branch lovingly cut from a pear tree. There are (1d4) pears dangling from the section of branch. Each of them cure 3d4 damage if eaten within an hour of being plucked from the branch. When the last pear is removed, the taxidermied bird emits a faint squawk of indignation and flies off stiffly.
3. Six used scalpels (as knives: very short reach, -1 to hit, X2 damage), a crumpled and blood-soaked map of some large metropolitan area with (2d6) spots marked-out with a black grease pencil, and someone's kidney wrapped-up in a cheap silk scarf.
4. Eighteen pounds of dead, dried-out cockroaches.
5. (3d4) assorted batteries of various types. Some of them are leaking various caustic substances.
6. A cracked faux-malachite bowling ball encrusted with something Squick and/or Ickorous.
7. A Gronk sword that won't fit back into the bag once it is removed.
8. A really, really angry squirrel.
9. Eight yellowed and curiously stained 3"x4" index cards detailing Eight Magical Weapons, alas there is no information provided as to where these items might be found.
10. Five cans of off-brand 10w30 motor oil.
11. All the raw components necessary for a Jaladari to craft a few dozen minor wards or charms. There might be a reward for the return of this stuff...if you can find the right charm-peddler.
12. The journal of Aloysius Hemlock. Each entry is written backwards in a recursive magical-cypher requiring it to be read in a mirror in moonlight. There may be (1d4) odd, reversed variant spells interspersed through the text as well as a few vague references that sound quite portentous but lack all context. At the moment.
13. A well-carved bit of blue-green ivory that is half-way to becoming a very elegant wand. Too bad whomever was working on it was interrupted. There's a base 30% chance that there are some well-used carving tools in the bag as well.
14. A sleeping squid sealed within a large, heavy glass jar. Now that you've woken it up, it stares expectantly at you.
15. (2d4) Bruthem toe-nails.
16. Buried beneath hundreds of small teeth is a hand-written Gothic manuscript of decidedly grotesque character. It gives off the scent of patchouli and storax. There are cat teeth mixed in with the rest, but this isn't noticeable until after the manuscript has been removed.
17. Four dozen tiny blue ferns, each one with its roots individually wrapped tightly in a burlap ball that has been treated with a solution of some sort that preserves them until they are removed, after which they begin to rot if not planted or potted in 1d6 hours.
18. (6d6) exotic tulip bulbs.
19. This bag is empty, however it also suffers from having been imprinted with a form of the Triple Shadow spell, making it slightly conspicuous, depending on the company you keep.
20. Sixty-three tin whistles and one kazoo. All of them covered in spit and reeking of cheap beer.
21. A crudely-drawn diagram sketched-out on a tattered piece of badly-frayed sail-cloth showing the proper way to butcher a Giant Albino Penguin.
22. Four hundred glass marbles in six different sizes, all of exceptional quality.
23. Several disparate pieces of silverware and three napkin-rings of carved soapstone that may or may not be blasphemous but are certainly obscene.
24. Three bundles of unused postcards depicting a variety of clowns from Little Carcosa and a dog-eared copy of The Mundy Guide to the City: A Comprehensive Guide to the Five Baronies of the Metropolis. Too bad the majority of the pages are stuck together by blood and some tarry substance that may still be moving if you look closely enough at it for long enough. Someone has sketched out a rough map on the inside of a book of matches that purportedly shows the way to a derelict barber shop. The matches have been ruined by exposure to the black stuff.
25. A small actinic torch sans batteries and a pair of Doctor Bronson's patented Wermpliers.
26. (1d4) random non-powered hand-tools.
27. The complete rigging of a schooner, including every line, rope or piece of sail, all expertly rolled-up, tightly folded, and packed neatly into the bag in such a way that simply boggles the mind.
28. Two gallons of wort from a long-lost brewery sloshing about in a pair of matching hermetically-sealed containers. To someone with a good knowledge of Zymurgy, this stuff is worth its weight in gold, or better.
29. Six pounds of raw Cacao, a dozen seed-pods and (1d4) pounds of 'cocoa powder.'
30. A nicely sculpted figurine cast in black bronze of a Grobbly-Bonk that can either be used to summon, bind or ward-off one of the nasty things depending upon how well you know your Aklo...

You might also find some use for the Questionable Trinkets & Trash Tables or some of our other Alternative Treasure tables.

And then there is Porky's excellent 100 Items Lost or Found on the Rogue Spacer table, which we highly recommend.

Guide to Lithus Sector

New installments are posted on Tuesdays

Lithus Sector is an ongoing series exploring the mysteries and perils scattered across the Dark Interstellar Frontier of this ancient, once densely populated region of space where Humanity is in the minority and alien megastructures are far too common for anyone's comfort.

The Lithus Sector series was originally inspired by the FREE Rogue Space RPG, but can easily be adapted to any other Space Operatic RPG. In act one of our readers have adapted Lithus Sector to Diaspora.

We may adapt this material for use in a Space W.a.R.P. sort of game one of these days...

Lithus Sector Links

• Introduction to Lithus Sector (Sector/System/Planet)
• Lithus Sector Map
• Kazix (02.01)
• Mov (05.00)
• Balajang (02.00)
• Xokav Incursion (01.03)
• Telajan (06.01) Telajan Sub-Index: Part 1: Overview, Part 2: Inner Zone, Part Three: Habitable Zone, 2-A: Aldrin, 2-B: Mattigar, 2-C: Shelg, 2-D1: Ju Hai, 2-D2: Molat, 2-E: Saxo-Mara, Part Four: Outer Zone, Part Five
• Ashlek (01.05)
• Tregio (00.03)
• Donthir (07.02)
• Triang D'mar (01.04)
• Panj (04.05)
• Yanda (04.07)
• TRADA (05.08)
• Kaaldu (03.04)
• Orb2 (04.03)
• Achernarian Expatritat (07.07)

Adventures in Lithus Sector

• Six-Sentence Scenarios: Aldrin (Lithus Sector)  Any System
• Scenario Seeds: The Hartley Bequest  Any System
• Scenario Seeds: Lithusian Mega-Sharks (Rogue Space)
• Quick Score on Xudriss II Any System/RS
• Have A Nice Day
• Fishing Trip
• Slogging Through Abbadis III
• Pyramids of Balajang
• N-Pits of Unonde
• Domes of Parlassa
• Mission to Sphere III

Guide to Lithus Sector (Links)  |  Intro to Lithus Sector  |   Map of Lithus Sector

Rogue Space Resources  |  Space Operatic RPG Resources

Aeonic Synchropore

A scroll unlike any other, it unrolls into a sheet of brass. Stained with blood and warm to the touch, it shimmers and seems more alive than any bit of hide. A window. Yes. It resembles some sort of window more than anything else, a way to see beyond, to look deeply upon somewhere--no; not 'where'--but rather somewhen else.

According to Dalmutrin's Doxological Exegeticon (but only in the third revision), the Aeonic Synchropore is essentially a divination device akin to a dowser's forked-rod, only it synchronizes itself with the area where it is opened-up and allows the user to observe events as they played out long, long ago in that very spot.

The user is behooved to know and employ the cursive iconoglyphs of classical aeonetics in order to appropriately tune and direct the time-skrying capabilities of this marvelous device.

It is all but indestructible and completely impervious to all attempts to engage it in conversation in any but the most obscure and esoteric form of some dead language known only to a select few rarefied scholars or mummified monastics.

Certain barbaric spell-casters have discovered that they can force the Aeonic Synchropore to execute a Temporal Dislocation (what they naively refer to as a 'Time-Shift') by the liberal application of a Feeblemind spell. Unfortunately, for them, no one has learned how to do this in a controlled manner, thus it is probably best left for all but the most fool-hardy or desperate.

Low-End Loot, Table V

Low-End Loot: Table V (D30)

1. One slightly crushed silver snuff box, missing the lid.
2. Bundle of 22 bungs. The cord they've been bound with is frayed and about to give way.
3. Saddle blanket.
4. Four small animal traps on a single rusty chain. The third one doesn't work quite right.
5. One box of 3 dozen candles. They've all melted into one dense brick, but with some patience each candle can be chipped out of the waxy block in 1d4 minutes.
6. 122 feet of stout cordage wrapped willy-nilly around a rough stick.
7. Simple lead plumb bob or plummet in a velvet draw-string bag.
8. Lodestone, snapped in half.
9. Cobbler's needle-punch. Can be used as a weapon inflicting 1d2 damage.
10. 2d4 assorted files in a leather sack. The ones that aren't chipped or cracked are rusty.
11. Three heavy pig-iron wedges used in splitting stumps, etc.
12. A draw-knife that has a wobbly handle.
13. Bronze tripod meant to support a ceremonial incense brazier.
14. 1 seriously nicked-up Peavey-hook.
15. Heavy wooden cutting board removed from a near-by tavern.
16. 32 feet of thin cord rolled-up in a sack of powdered chalk.
17. One heavy, left-handed glove crafted from extra-thick leather, scorched along the edges and pitted across backside.
18. Wooden bucket. Expertly repaired bottom. No handle.
19. 20 pounds of rendered fat in a covered pail.
20. Small wooden box containing 43 horse-shoe nails.
21. Poorly repaired war hammer, used as a meat-tenderizer.
22. Rug-beater.
23. 12 pounds of borax packed into a small barrel.
24. 43 grooved lead runners carefully stored in a flat, wide wooden box with a side compartment for various tools used in repairing stained glass.
25. A single 104-pound block of rock salt.
26. 6 pounds of vivid blue limojes-style vitreous enamel in a sealed wooden canister.
27. 1d4 chisels. No hammer.
28. 3 bottles of clear fluid. One is denatured alcohol. The second is distilled water. The third is Prussic acid.
29. A dwarf or child-sized auger.
30. 3 pair of mis-matched metal-working tongs.

Questionable Trinkets & Trash (I)

Questionable Trinkets & Trash (I)

1. An over-sized and deeply engraved powder-horn. Even immersed in a bucket of water, this thing keeps the powder dry, at least until you pour it out.
2. A vile-smelling greenish snuff much favored among the women of Pitorria. It turns their teeth green and grants them a poisonous bite. Some say it also stimulates certain occult powers they are alleged to cultivate.
3. A dull and dusty old lens that comes in a faded purple velvet pouch. The lens is looped with a small silver wire and hangs from a tiny white-metal chain. If cleaned-up and used to look at the Moon during a particular phase it will reveal a second moon.
4. (1d4) antique cat-flensing knives in a small wooden presentation case inscribed with a large monogram 'F.' The lid sticks a little bit. They've never been used. Possession of these things causes all felines to have a -4 Reaction to the owner.
5. Mandrake roots packed in shredded birch bark. The seller will mumble various vague hints and such, but they will not inform anyone ignorant of such matters what they might do with the things, aside from a warning to the seriously ignorant not to eat them.
6. A small bracelet of dull bronze worked into a chunky, angular form with sixteen sections. The markings are mostly obliterated, in three instances deeply scratched off deliberately. Astrologers will potentially recognize enough of the remaining symbols to leave the thing alone, unless they have been properly attuned.
7. A small, delicate, wonderfully carved bone pen that can fill 3d100 pages without being re-dipped, if it is used to first inflict 1d4 damage on the user. It will write in any language specified by the wielder, even if they do not know it themselves.
8. A small, blackened ash-wood 'X' on a single upright brace. It is roughly a foot high when set on the floor. Numerous holes have been made by nails pounded into the extreme ends of each of the four arms of the 'X,' and the wood is deeply stained with old blood. It comes with a small lead-headed hammer and a box of silver pins. The seller claims that it is authentic. You're supposed to nail a toad to the thing and leave it near someone afflicted with a pox or plague and the toad is supposed to take-on the illness. If you let it dry long enough, the toad will remove the disease even from someone on their death-bed, or so they say. Toads cost extra.
9. A slightly dented brass lantern fitted with panes of hardened, tinted glass. Three of the panes are purple.
10. A peculiarly gnawed thigh-bone. It twists at the middle to reveal a small quantity of a peculiar blue dust. Each night this bone will attract 1d6 rats. Their numbers will increase by an additional 1d6 each night. They will not be driven off and will need to be killed. They want the blue dust. Giving the bone/dust to the rats will make them stop harassing the party, but it will also result in the spawning of 2d4 Ratterlings.

Portal Effects (Any System/Table I)

When in the course of exploring strange Portals, Gates or Nexus Points, such as those encountered wandering through the Kalaramar Drifts or similar such questionable territories, adventurers will sometimes find themselves crossing the thresholds of unknown, unmarked and previously undiscovered/unexplored apertures to elsewhere. Many portals, gates and the like have been password-protected, sabotaged, or rigged with traps to deter casual or non-authorized use. Others are damaged or faulty. Some are just cranky old things with bad attitudes who dislike anyone using them without first saying at least a simple 'hello.'

Not all such portals or gates are necessarily awake, aware or even completely functional. Sometimes everything works out quite well, other times it can be disastrous. In-between those dramatic extremes, when a random portal appears, and you don't have anything else handy, there is this very deliberately un-balanced random table. You might consider giving the players the option to take a set amount of damage (like say 3d6) or roll on this table instead...

Random Portal Effects (D20)

1. Everything that was green is now orange.
2. Everyone within 30' suffers 2d4 damage after a tremendous thunder-clap. Save to take no damage, but be deafened for 1d6 hours.
3. Make Save or all gear is inverted or reversed.
4. All ferrous metals are magnetized, including the iron in your bloodstream. All magnets cause those affected to suffer 1d4/minute of exposure. Wielding, holding or carrying the weapons/armor/items affected by this change counts towards the ongoing damage.
5. You now possess infra-red vision...unfortunately, you can no longer see in what you used to consider the normal visible spectrum. Save and this is only temporary.
6. All gems taken through the portal are now unstable explosives causing 1d10 damage per GP value.
7. All edible food is now toxic yellow sludge that does 1d6 on contact.
8. All who have passed through this portal now possess twin shadows. This might just be only a cosmetic effect.
9. Everyone passing through this portal has their hair fall out. Make a Save and it will regrow normally.
10. All magic items requiring charges are now fully recharged.
11. Everyone Healed to maximum hit points.
12. All previously inert organic matter is now alive and regenerates at a rate of 1 hit point/per hour.
13. All gunpowder passed through this portal has started to smolder...
14. Wands start to crackle and shimmer weirdly. In 2d4 minutes they will begin to sprout tendrils and branches, leaves will uncurl, and they will quickly take root within 1d10' of the portal. There are already 1d100 similar 'Trees' in the immediate area. A careful examination will reveal 1d4 seed-pods or acorns that will be harvestable. These seeds will grow into trees that will produce (1d12) raw wands every growing season, once mature.
15. Re-roll hit points, all results of 1=0, max. result=double points (i.e. a mage with D4 for hit dice rolls a result of '4' which would then be doubled to equal 8 hit points).
16. Hit Die type shifts upwards to next higher Die-Type (i.e. D4 is now d6).
17. Clerical magic above 2nd level no longer available. All clerics must Save or else be cut off from their Patron(s) for 1d100 hours.
18. Everyone in 60' radius takes 3d4 electrical damage. A random electrical discharge will erupt from the portal every 2d10 minutes for the next 1d4 days.
19. A Wandering Monster emerges from the opposite side of the portal simultaneous to the exit of the player characters. Roll normally for initiative.
20. Healing potions, devices and spells are inverted.

Transplanar Contacts (Random Table/Any System)

Clerics and priests commune with their gods. Sorcerers and mages summon-up entities in order to gain access to deep secrets of forbidden knowledge. Sting gains enlightenment after a fashion via dancing around some designer candle-sticks. And that's just great. Just ducky. But ever since the early days when Contact Other Plane meant placing a really long-distance call to some unearthly power Out There, some of us have wondered about who or whom those beings scattered across the rest of the multiverse might call upon and if it might not sometimes fall to Player Characters to answer the call. Collect, in some cases. This table, then, seeks to facilitate a few more of those sorts of situations.
Realities are often smaller than they appear in the mirror. Please do not operate heavy machinery while rolling on this table. Results are non-binding and seek professional help if symptoms persist for more than twenty years.

Transplanar Contacts I

1. A tribe of wandering spindly abhumans congregated in a square formation four ranks deep are attempting to summon a Hero to their cause. They claim that they are being oppressed by a band of vulture-headed ogre-types that serve a wicked princess out to kill them for having run away from her personal garden. Do you want to get involved? Can you refuse?
2. A wizened old spider about as big as a castle wants to know the answer to a question that has been bothering it for close to a century now. 'Why do some species of mammals possess more than one set of nipples?' The Spider wants to know...
3. A fluctuating mass of brilliant orange phlegm wants to know how to get to the sacred precincts of ShfsofsfdsdggX*jdfosdgfg.
4. Three Hags have called upon you to relieve them of the terrible burden of their aeons-long ordeal of chastity...
5. (1d100) Twelve-legged blue ants the size of planets waft a foul greenish cloud of information-packed chemicals right at where your antennae ought to be...
6. A Shining Flying Purple Wolfhound Standing There: "Show Me Where You Are," It demands.
7. (1d12) Creepy old bug-faced wizards sitting on silk cushions all stare at you in disbelief. Since you persist, they spontaneously crumble into a fine green dust. The connection closes.
8. The way is open. Feel free to cross-over onto the deck of a sailing ship to nowhere. Literally. Anyone crossing-over is trapped on this ship for 5d20 years, during which time they do not age. However, upon leaving the ship, they can not hear any sound produced by a stringed instrument ever again.
9. A misty vista expands before you. Death-defying mutilated armies crawl out of dirty holes, one officer turns to look back at you and asks "What is it all for?"
10. The six surviving members of a secret demonic cabal have gathered to call upon you in order to learn how they might redeem themselves from chaos and evil. But beware, one of them is a traitor. Perhaps more than one of them. In fact they might all be traitors and no one has figured that out yet...
11. The color mauve wants to know how to gazpitzle a gruollumph, but not so that it yugilizes or gets frumdonkic.
12. Thirty thousand weasels in bronze armor want to know if they are going to survive the coming battle--
13. (2d4) flagellant monks are calling upon you by name to intercede in their time of woe...
14. A well-dressed Marmoset looks across a table set for a feast, farts, and asks for you to pass them the mustard, in French, of course.
15. A huge, glowing disembodied eyeball roughly the size of a house stares at you. It is luminous and unblinking.
16. A grove of trees silently and very slowly screams their demands at you. Well, aspirates is probably the better term for it, they don't really, literally have the means to 'scream,' of course that's probably covered by item four on their checklist.
17. Weeping and desolate, a dryad looks up from her despoiled bower and begs for your help.
18. A huge, glowing and disembodied head sonorously demands that you return its map, or at least help it locate its missing eye-ball. Either one would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.
19. A murderous string of pearls wishes to enlist your guidance as to the best course of action in attempting to assassinate the Queen of T*******************.
20. Twin glass golems stare forlornly from their pristine chamber of mirrors. Save or be struck blind for 1d4 hours. They wish to know how they might acquire their own souls. Not anything recycled, and definitely not previously-owned, but new. Any thoughts?

Displacement Effect (Random Table/Any System)

This Table is intended for the Assault of Chaos spell, but it can also be used in the course of an apportational or teleportational duel such as are sometimes fought in the Sepulchre-Arenas of Tsan Yian, certain instances of poltergeist phenomena, or at times when things get spatially-unhinged in the Kalaramar Drifts, for example.

Displacement Effects Table I

1. Target shifted 1d100' in a random direction.
2. Buried (1d10 x 1,000') below the surface. Save and a pocket has formed around victim with enough air for about 20 minutes. Fail the Save, there's no pocket.
3. Victim is instantly transported 1d100 miles in a random direction.
4. Target has been shunted over to an Alternate Timeline for the next 1d100 minutes.
5. Spontaneously elevated (1d10 x 1,000') above the surface. Roll Save for disorientation, fail and target passes out for the first 1,000' of falling.
6. Victim is instantly transported 2d100 miles in a random direction.
7. Victim has been shifted 1d4 years into the past.
8. Target shifted 2d100' in a random direction.
9. Victim is embedded inside a wall or other vertical structure within 1,000' of starting position. Save and there's air for 10 minutes, fail Save and it doesn't matter--body is integrated into the materials of the object.
10. Target has been shunted over to an Alternate World for the next 1d100 minutes. Save to avoid forming a Weak Point.
11. Victim is instantly transported 3d100 miles in a random direction.
12. Target shifted 3d100' in a random direction.
13. Swap positions with opponent.
14. Victim is instantly transported 4d100 miles in a random direction.
15. Target superficially bonded to outer layer of nearest vertical surface. Requires 2d6 minutes to break free but suffer 3d4 damage, Save for half damage.
16. Target shifted 4d100' in a random direction.
17. Reversed position.
18. Victim is instantly transported 1d100 x 1d100 miles in a random direction.
19. Target exchanges location with a quantum shadow from an intersecting probability string. Make the Save and one or both instances of the affected individual reverts to their native probability stream within 1d100 minutes, fail the Save and one or both instances of the target are cast adrift upon the vast oceans of uncertainty, unlikely to be seen ever again.
20. Target shifted 1d100 x d100' in a random direction.

Effects of Unknown Forces (Random Table/Any System)

This Table is intended to accompany the spell: Evocation of Unknown Forces, but it can certainly be used with similar spells and in other situations at GM whim, er um discretion.

Effects of Unknown Forces (D20)

1. Every sentient entity within the area of effect of this spell has 1 point of WIS forcibly ripped from them (inflicting an additional 2d4 damage). The accumulated WIS is then aggregated into one nascent proto-consciousness that is entirely intuitive, instinctive and highly empathic. It also now knows how to take what it needs from those around it in order to become more than it already is and might decide to rip off INT or CHAR to become a more well-rounded personality. This feral egregore has 1 HD per every increment of 6 points of WIS it has to start with.
2. Everything caught within the sphere of effect is now rendered permanently transparent (roll 1d100 for percentage). It might sound like fun at first, but as the victim's eyes become transparent, they lose a corresponding amount of their ability to see within the normal spectra. A kind GM might allow those affected to adjust their visual sensitivity into some other range, such as infra-red or ultra-violet or whatever. Perhaps they gain the ability to see across the planes or gain a permanent form of clairvoyance in lieu of normal sight...
3. Save or become petrified. You're not 'really' petrified, but rather have been shifted into a much slower-moving temporal stream. Your body resembles nearly immutable stone that endures throughout the ages to those who view it on the original time-line. The effect might eventually wear-off, but only after some really extreme period of time, unless someone figures out some clever way to circumvent the temporal differential.
4. Everything goes blindingly white. A vast cacophonous roar shakes you to your very bones. Then it is totally quiet for 1d6 minutes after which it starts to snow within the area of effect for the next 1d6 hours. That is all.
5. Each living thing within range of this spell loses 1 HD that is extracted under excruciatingly painful circumstances by the writhing, slithering energies of something ultra-organic, but operating on an entirely other sequence of planar spectra. All the extracted HD are then compounded into a weird gelatinous mass of poly-cellular goo that requires 1d30 rounds to fully gestate/incubate/develop within its egg-sac, after which time a wet and very hungry abomination combining one or more features from everyone who contributed a HD to its creation process (typically in the most lurid, disgusting ways possible to describe with a straight face or in your best drop-dead serious HPL-tone) chews its way out of the amniotic caul-pod and starts looking around for its mother...and something to eat.
6. Everyone re-rolls WIS on 5d6, discards the lower two results and replaces their original score. Then each character so affected must make a Save or lose consciousness for 1d4 hours, after which time they awaken to a new life with a new personality, and no memory of their past life. The old memories and identity might be recoverable (like via certain spells), but could easily require an adventure or two in and of itself. There are those who deal in such matters, beings who barter in souls, trade in memories, or peddle new identities, as well as those who recover old identities, for a price.
7. It's all purple. Deep, dark purple. Oh, and all the air is screaming off into the void that is all deep, dark purple and empty, except for you.
8. Those caught within the area of effect can no longer see the color green. Save or this is a permanent effect.
9. Everyone within range of the spell's effect must roll a Save or have their eyes morph into wet, flabby masses of looping tendril or feather-like antennae that extend nearly a foot outwards from their skull. Each of those affected now has a permanent True Seeing spell always in effect, however they cannot bear exposure to bright lights as their new ocular appendages are extremely sensitive things.
10. The entire zone of effect of this spell has slipped out of alignment with the planar plenum and the whole thing is now sliding precipitously across one adjacent plane after another, picking up speed as it does so, until at last it reaches sufficient velocity to break free of anything you might know or recognize as reality, never to be seen again. Anyone so desiring can, of course, leave the accelerating elliptical area of effect, but will find themselves left on some other plane, dimension or place. Each minute they hesitate before jumping adds 1d4 to the amount of damage they will take when they finally do jump, unless they opt to ride this thing out...then it's a one way trip to oblivion, unless the GM decides to intervene.
11. Everyone within the zone of effect has had their skin and a small amount of their flesh commingled with everyone else. Cutting free will take 3d6 damage over the course of 3d4 rounds, with a need to either make a CON check or a Save in order to not pass out in the course of extracting one's self from this disgusting mess. Once free, another Save will be needed to avoid bleeding to death. If anyone stays interconnected like this without cutting themselves free, they will be conglomerated into a single macro-organism within 3d6 hours. It is a painless process, however the final conglomerate being will only retain portions of any one contributor's memories, abilities, or attributes...and it will most definitely not be human any longer. Oh, and it will certainly be quite hungry.
12. Everyone hands their character sheet over to the person to their right for the rest of the session. Players must succeed on a Save for both their old character and the new one in order to switch back. They can attempt this only once per session.
13. The zone of effect becomes a permanent storm with winds that lash out for 2d4 damage per round and a constant 30% chance of random lightning strikes for another 3d6 damage. See the Damned Things Tables for additional fall-out from the storm, and there is a base 5% chance that this place has become a temporary Weak Spot or Weak Point in reality, allowing things to cross-over from strange places and times. (This would be a great time to whip out one of those handy random tables of monster encounters from Mutant Future, Humanspace Empires, or some other game...)
14. Each mind within the zone of effect has been swapped into the body of someone or something else who was likewise caught within the range of this spell. Roll randomly.
15. All beings within the zone of effect must make a Save or be forcibly transmogrified into a living shadow of themselves. Their ability to assume a limited form of materiality will depend on their ability to derive substance from those they drain of hit points by a touch attack, or possibly other sorcerous solutions mostly known within Tsan Yian...
16. All those affected have malleable features, essentially their faces mold like putty, for the next 1d6 days. Yes, they will stay that way if you're not careful.
17. You all wake up with a headache, you've lost 1d4 HD, all your stats are re-rolled, and you may be an entirely other class and possibly even another race or gender now...and your memories of what happened are cloudy and painful, so it's probably best to get moving. This place just doesn't feel right to you and the sooner you get away from it, the better.
18. Those affected have had their bones transformed into translucent crystalline material much more akin to carbon than to calcium. Each of them gains one additional Hit Die, heals at twice the normal rate, and now has the ability to store spells in their bones as though they were walking, talking rings of spell storing. There are quite a few 'interested parties' who'd dearly love to get hold of such lovely bones as those the player characters now carry around within their formerly worthless hides...
19. Everything goes black --very dramatically-- and each person caught within the spell's zone of effect finds themselves facing an exact duplicate, a deranged, slavering, completely insane contra-replica hellbent on killing and devouring the original so that they can go forth from this place in their stead.
20. No one will ever know what really happened. Roll up some new characters...