Six Shunned Houses in Wermspittle

What I heard in my youth about the shunned house was merely that people died there in alarmingly great numbers. That, I was told, was why the original owners had moved out some twenty years after building the place. It was plainly unhealthy, perhaps because of the dampness and fungous growths in the cellar, the general sickish smell, the drafts of the hallways, or the quality of the well and pump water. These things were bad enough, and these were all that gained belief among the persons whom I knew...

The Shunned House, by H. P. Lovecraft

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Six Shunned Houses

1. They say that anyone fool enough to spend a night in what remains of the old Franzikaner Grub Merchant's House on Black Street tends to get their head lopped off by whatever it is that haunts the place. The locals claim that there is a vengeful haint lurking in the place, possibly the ghost of the at old merchant's estranged niece who was a notoriously wicked girl with a violent temper. So far no one has survived to confirm any of the prevailing theories...
   
   No real mystery here. The attic of this house is crawling with a swarm of  Head Taker Beetles.
   
   (6d20) Head Taker Beetles [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 6[13], HD 3, #AT 2, DG 1d4/1d4, SV F2, ML 12 (mindless), Special: On a modified attack roll of 20 or better, a random appendage is severed, possibly even the victim's head. If the beetles successfully remove a victim's head, they will break off the attack and attempt to scuttle away with it. No one is completely sure what they do with such grisly trophies, and it might be prudent to simply just to ask.]

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2. Some folks say there is a vengeful phantom haunting the burned-out ruins of Mister Tiddles' Lollipop Shop. There are several Foragers and some Street Urchins who all swear to having seen the thing, and just barely escaping its clutches, when they tried to take refuge there during the rain or to escape pursuing Butcher Boys. Most of them seem to think that the horrid thing lairs in the fireplace...
   
   There is indeed an Ourang in this place, but it is not any sort of phantom, at least not yet. This creature was brought back to Wermspittle as a servant by the former proprietor of the candy shop on one of the last airships to visit the city decades ago...
   
   (1) Ourang [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 6[13], HD 4, #AT 3 (2 claws, 1 bite, can use weapons), DG 1d4+1, 1d4+1, 1d6 or by weapon, SV F4, ML 10, Special: Move Silently 70%, climb Walls 99%,Hide in Shadows 70%.] There is a cache of Trinkets and Trash in the fireplace. The beast actually lairs in a nest it has made in the rafters of the attic...

   ---

3. Five stories above the street, the roof is broken open to the rain and elements like the shell of a rotten egg. No one goes beyond the second floor, only a few have ever attempted that, and never twice...
   
   The walls, floors and ceilings of this place are saturated with the coagulated filth of dozens of Loathsome Masses left behind by victims of the Vile Transformation were herded into the place by a group of masked vigilantes who rounded-up anyone they suspected of White Powder poisoning and left them here to die. Now there is a thriving colony of Scrum Pustules on every floor...
   
   (3d10) Scrum Pustules [AL N, MV (See Entry), AC 8[11], HD 1+, #AT 1, DG 1d4+, SV as zero-level human, ML 12 (Mindless), Special: Scrum Pustules gain 1 permanent hit point for every 30 points of damage they inflict. Every 6 hit points gained in this manner gives them another HD and allows them to increase in size, extending their area of effect by one more foot and improving their attack by an additional 1d4.]
   

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4. This foul-smelling tenement has definitely seen better days. Everyone avoids it. At night the walls radiate a flickering foxfire and dim shapes can be seen moving about doing incomprehensible things...
   
   Masses of reeking fungal-flesh cover the floors, clutter the stairwells and form something of an irregular obstacle-course or soft labyrinth all through the tenement. There are twelve apartments on each of the ten floors and a colony of Fruiting Bodies in every one of the rooms, with a Fungal Tyrant firmly rooted within the central courtyard.
   
   (3d4) Fruitng Bodies (per room) [AL N, MV 60' (20'), AC 8[11], HD 2 hit points each, #AT 1, DG 1 hit point (Poison), SV As zero-level human, ML 4, Special: When 'killed' each Fruiting Body erupts into a 10'x10' cloud of toxic spores that lingers for 3d20 minutes and causes all exposed to it to Save at -1 or suffer 1d4 damage every minute of exposure. All corpses left within the area affected by the spores becomes completely taken-over by the fungi and are non-recoverable.]
   
   (1) Fungal Tyrant [AL N, MV *static*, AC 6[13], HD 4, #AT 1d4, DG 1d4+1 per attack, SV MU 6, ML 11, Special: Use the following spells at-will; Clairvoyance, Detect Invisible, ESP, Locate Object, Ventriloquism (only within Area of Awareness), and may know an additional 1d4 random spells. See entry for more details.]

   ---

5. All three floors above ground are burned, gutted and even the centipedes don't bother hunting there any more. It's the space below the place that people are particularly concerned about. If you are careful in picking your way through the rubble, fallen timbers and collapsed walls, you can still reach the heavy old door that opens onto the narrow, steep stairs leading down to the cellar. If you wait long enough, sometimes you would swear that there were voices down there...
   
   Falling debris and collapsing walls make this a dangerous, treacherous place to go exploring, but if someone does get past the various hazards and obstacles, the old door can be opened (requires a combined STR of 23), and the rickety stairs might wobble a bit, but they will serve to get you down into the dark, dank chamber of crumbling brown bricks set with narrow arches about the height and width of a typical human. The chamber is clearly much smaller than what one might expect for such an old, large building. Each archway is bricked-up a little bit differently, very likely having been done by different hands at different times. The bricks are old and break easily, so it is possible to break through them, if so desired. Twenty-three cells hold the skeletal remains of long deceased prisoners. The Twenty-fourth cell contains a Spectre.
   
   (1) Spectre [AL C, MV 150' (50'), AC 2[17], HD 6, #AT 1 (touch), DG (Special: Draining Attack), SV F6, ML 11, Special: When the Spectre successfully strikes a victim, they must Save to avoid losing 1 HD, making the Save means they only take 1d8 damage. When a HD is lost in this manner, the character must re-roll their hit points using the reduced number of HD. The reduction in HD persists for 6d4 hours. Anyone reduced to zero HD is killed and will themselves become a Spectre in 1d4 days. Spectres are immune to Charm, Hold and Sleep spells. They take only 1 hit point of damage from normal or silver weapons. They will seek to avoid looking into mirrors and can be driven off by anyone who calls them by their name.]

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6. The floor in this Abandoned Property sags terribly and appears to be about to collapse at any moment, however a pack of Feral Children have been running through here for more than six months without any mishaps, so perhaps the floor will hold up a little longer. There are the dried remains of Loathsome Masses in most of the ground floor rooms, with a particularly nasty Wet Spot in the kitchen that appears fairly recent. Everyone knows that there is some sort of Vicious Slime under the main stairwell, and there are some peculiar Stains in the upstairs hallway, though they rarely tell outsiders. The cellar is flooded; some idiot filled it with acid until the walls collapsed and now there's a fetid pool of noisome fluids down there that no one wants to deal with, especially since there's a Grobbly Bonk map charred into the main bedroom wall, and a stash of vintage Pruztian pronography rumored to be hidden behind one of the walls on the third floor, despite no Forager admitting to having ever found the stuff...
   
   There is an Oval Portrait in one of the upstairs rooms, as well as a well-preserved flock of undead gray penguins locked away in the attic...
   (6d6) Undead Penguins [AL C, MV 60' (20'), AC 6[11], HD 2, #AT 1, DG 1d4, SV F1, ML 6, Special: Turn as 1 HD Zombies. They take double damage rom fire, however once set ablaze, they will scamper about the place randomly, setting everything on fire. In all other respects they are zombified birds, and completely inedible.

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What Lurks Below the Purple Glow? (Wermspittle)

Then, nearer, I perceived a strange light, a pale, violet- purple fluorescent glow, quivering under the night breeze. For a space I could not understand it, and then I knew that it must be the red weed from which this faint irradiation proceeded. With that realisation my dormant sense of wonder, my sense of the proportion of things, awoke again...

The War of the Worlds, by H. G. Wells

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Encounters Within the Purple Gloom
(Areas Overgrown by the Red Weeds...)

1. You've just discovered the dimly-lit niche where a swarm of bats have taken-up residence.
   
   Bats (10d10) [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 6, HD 1 hp, #AT 1, DG Confuse, SV Zero-Level human, ML 6. Special: These bats are infested with a peculiar green-speckled mold. If exposed to open flame, they explode for 2d4 damage in a 10' radius, each.]
2. A few not-so-good Morlocks are hunting rats and other easy-meat in the Gloom.
   
   Morlocks (3d4) [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 7 (Riveted Leather), HD 1 (9 hp each), #AT 1, DG 1d4x2 (Steely Knives), SV F1, ML 9. Special: Each carries a bone whistle that can be used to signal their main group (5d10). One of the Morlocks is possessed by a Gloomshadow.]
3. That stinking, vile mess of putrid flesh and ichor? It's the skinned and mutilated corpse of a Gloomswallow. Foragers or Gloomhunters have killed and stripped the thing for the leather that can be made from it. Examining the rapidly putrrifying flesh will reveal (1d4) unborn young still writhing within the murksome gore.
4. Huudrin the Marmoset has entered into the Purple Gloom looking for adventure. Now she lies bleeding and battered, hoping against hope for someone to help her back to her troop's encampment back in an Abandoned Property in the Burned Over District. They are searching for the Brazen Tomb of Gargantua...
   
   Huudrin the Marmoset Knightess (1) [AL L, MV 120' (40'), AC 4 (Cocoon-linked Chain-Mail), HD 5 (42 hp/currently 12 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6+1 (+1 Battle Axe), SV F5, ML 9. Anyone rescuing fair Huudrin will be richly rewarded in mustard, musk-wax and at least a passable meal...her troop are not rich folk, but they are honorable and will seek to repay a debt as best they might.]
5. A cloud of Flidder-spawn have found a small, undocumented Weak Point. It looks dark and stormy on the other side. Cold mud tinged with flakes of rust, though that red stuff could be pollen and the like blown across from the Red Weeds.
   
   Flidder-spawn (4d4) [AL C, MV 120' (60'), AC 6, HD 1+1 (ave. 4 hp each), #AT 1, DG 1d4 (special), SV F1, ML 10. Special: These immature spawnlings can inflict an involuntary Phaseshift on one target once per day, if they all work together. They will use this ability to remove the most obvious threat, once attacked, then they will attempt to flee, half going through the Weak Point, the rest scattering.]
6. Something is moving under the leaf-litter. These Ferropedes have been stalking you for the last little bit. You'd best attend to them, one way or another, before they attack. They may not be especially good at stalking prey, they are very tough, very nasty things.
   
   Lesser Ferropedes (3d4) [AL N, MV 90' (30'), AC 5, HD 2 (12 hp each), #AT 1 (bite), DG 1d4 + poison (Save or become seriously ill for next 6 days, and can only move at half normal rate, with no other physical activity possible.) The dark, swirly chitin of these insects contains a form of allotropic iron that may or may not be workable. If anyone knows how to use the stuff, it would be a Morlock armorer.]
7. The ground gives way. Those failing a DEX check or Save slide 3d6 feet down a muddy incline obscured by red leaves. You find yourself at the very rim of a most precipitous drop. Some sort of pit extending more than 30' and more than half-filled with rusty, oily-looking water that doesn't quite obscure a mid-sized Corpuscular Sludge that is trapped down there.
   
   Corpuscular Sludge (1) [AL N, MV 3', AC 6, HD 3 (12 hp), #AT 1, DG (Special), SV F3, ML 3. Special: On a successful attack the victim must make a Save or become infected with the creature's terrible blood-borne toxins. A second Save is then attempted, success means that the victim is incapacitated with a raging fever for the next 3d6 hours and they suffer the loss of 1 point of STR for the next 3 weeks. Failing this Save results in the victim losing 1 point of STR every hour until either they reach zero and die or the infection is halted or removed by medicine, potions, or other curatives. Each hour, before losing the point of STR, the victim is entitled to roll another Save. If they succeed they can lose one point of STR permanently and be cured, or they can fight the infection, retain the point of STR and have to endure another full hour of debilitating fever followed by another Save/potential STR loss.]
8. (1d4) Wretches slashing and burning their way through the Red Weeds. They are looking for a fight.
   
   Wretches (2d6) [AL C, MV 90' (30'), AC 3 (Chain-mail and Shield), HD 4+4 (Regenerate 1 hp/3 turns unless burned), #AT 1, DG 1d6+3 (Broadswords or Battle-Axes, gain bonus for 18 STR), SV F6, ML 9 (3 if confronted with fire). Special: These Wretches have deserted Bairini's Big Top, several of them still carry tickets, tokens, or other small items from the Circus. Each one you return to the Ringmaster might be worth a small consideration.]
9. A small herd of Graylings snuffling and digging about for tasty roots. One in four has a serrated spade, the rest use their tiny hands to pluck forth the bulging tubers that grow parasitically at certain junctures of the root-system of the Red Weeds.
   
   Graylings (3d4) [AL C, MV 30', AC 9, HD 1d4 hp, #AT 1, DG 1d2 or 1d4 (spade), SV T1, ML 3.]
10. (3d12) Recently hatched Flutter Worms are crawling about the leaf-litter. Their tiny membranous winglets have not fully formed in some cases, in others their winglets appear to be missing. Something has affected them, causing these birth defects. But what could it be?
    
    Flutter Worms (3d12) [AL N, MV 10' (60'*), AC 9, HD (1d4 hp each), #AT 1, DG 1 hp (blood drain), SV MU 1, ML 4. Special: Each worm 'flutters' (a limited form of Blink), 1d6' in a random direction every few minutes.]
11. The bloody remnants of a Bruthem. From all appearances the clumsy brute blundered into the Red Weeds while wounded. The Red Weeds have grown through the carcass. The bones gleam wetly from behind a veil of twisted creepers, tendrils and fronds. The hide looks to have been carefully removed in sections.
12. (3d4) Murkim stalking a tusker-bear cub that they claim is theirs. They accidentally released the newly-acquired Tusker-Bear cub from its cage while looting the camp of a travelling menagerie that was ambushed by a band of heavily-armed Wretches as it was returning to the Big Top. The Murkim are duly spooked and are moving at maximum stealth. They will attempt to arrange for the Wretches to run afoul of others, so they can continue their search for the missing cub.
    
    Murkim (2d4) [AL N, MV 90' (30'), AC 6 (Disc-Mail cut from specially-cured stalks of ancient fungi), HD 2 (8 hp each), #AT 1, DG 1d6+poison (Short bows and short swords), SV F2, ML 9. Special: Murkim weapons are infested with fungal spores, all wounds inflicted require a Save or the victim suffers infection, most commonly a delirious fever for 1d4 hours, followed by 1d4 days of unpleasant dysentery and half movement, though they can fight at a -1 to hit penalty.]
13. A cluster of Shrieking White Moths were surprised by your almost stepping on them. They scream madly for 1d4 turns, then fly off to go perch somewhere less traveled. If provoked, they will certainly attack.
    
    Shrieking White Moths (2d4) [AL C, MV 60' (20'), AC 6 (small shields), HD 2+1 (12 each), #AT 1 (Shriek or Weapon), DG Save or Stunned for 1d4 turns or 1d4+1 (javelin), SV T2, ML 7. Special: Examining these moths reveals disturbing things, like their very human-like hands, and yes, they bleed red and are warm-blooded.]
14. Heavy iron nails have been driven into the denser, larger stalks and stems of the Red Weeds, each one anchors a chain sunk into the writhing, cursing, madly babbling Blatherer that some apprentice named Frenidall has oh so rudely and crudely left behind, after summoning the thing to serve as a familiar in the first place. Anyone coming within 100' of the constantly kvetching and complaining Blatherer will need to beware the almost constant Wandering Monster checks. If the Blatherer notices them (and they do this without eyes), the creature will holler, yell, and call out for help until it receives succor or grows tired and takes a break from its tirades for 1d4 turns before launching into a scathing analysis of all the shortcomings and failures of everyone who has passed it by and opted to leave it here.
    
    Blatherer (1) [AL C, MV 120' (90'), AC 9, HD 3 (20 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4/turn, SV F2, ML 12. Special: Their only real attack is the constant babble and chatter that they create, an unholy racket that gnaws away at a person's brain, mind and soul until at last they either expire or go stark raving mad. In desperation they can bite for 1d4, once. They'll stop after the first bite as it interferes with their preferred onslaught of verbal harangues.]
15. An especially argumentative group of Tsalalian Refugees have gotten themselves lost. They are very loudly blaming one another for their current predicament. They were hunting after carnivorous black penguins. Now they'd be happy to find their way back to the shanty town they call home.
    
    Tsalalian Penguin-Hunters (3d4) [AL C, MV 120' (40'), AC 5 (Cheap Splint-Mail), #AT 1, DG 1d6 (Barbed-Spears of Seal-Clubs), SV F2, ML 5. Special: Cast Confusion once per day, per HD.]
16. A pair of Morlock Weed-workers gathering choice leaves, shoots, tendrils and other parts of the Red Weed to use in their crafting for armor, weapons and other items. The old master is limping. They were accosted by a gang of Feral Children who may still be following them. They would like to parley. Perhaps you might see your way clear to help them get back to their cellar door? The apprentice offers you a Pruztian Five-Pence piece.
    
    Morlock Weed-Worker (1) [AL N, MV 90' (30'), AC 4 (Untermail), HD 6 (45 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d4x3 (Modified Bec-de-corbin), SV T6, ML 9. Special: Lurk in Shadows, Move Silently, Climb as Thief of level equal to HD.]
    
    Morlock Apprentice (1) [AL N, MV  90' (30'), AC 6 (Square-Scale Mail), HD 2 (8 hp), #AT 1, DG 1d6 (Axe or Pry-bar), SV T2, ML 9. Special: Lurk in Shadows, Move Silently, Climb as Thief of level equal to HD.]
17. A Gloomswallow lurks in the deeper violet shadows, whispering softly for its mate.
    
    Gloomswallow (1) [AL C, MV 90' (30'), AC 7, HD 3+3, #AT 1, DG (Special), SV F4, ML 11. Special: Should the Gloomswallow's tentacles hit their target, the victim must make a Save or have the tentacles infiltrate their flesh and begin to drain away their emotions. It generally takes only 1 turn per level/hit die of the victim to drain it of all emotion. This effect will persist each day that the victim fails a Save. Each day of being devoid of emotion there is a cumulative -1 penalty to the Save. Those victims who fail more than four such Saves are rendered permanently emotionless, requiring them to re-roll their WIS with a -2 penalty, and re-roll their INT on 4D6 with a +1 bonus (discarding the lowest roll), and they become cold, calculating, logical and rational to an extreme--and utterly devoid of all emotion, warmth or affect. Also, the Gloomswallow can cast the following spells: Passwall, True Seeing, Discern Emotion, Locate Dreamer, and ESP at will. Most can also cast Shadow Theft, as well as 1d4 random spells, usually those of an Oneiric, Umbral or Ectoplasmic nature. See more at the Gloomswallow entry.]
18. Run-away Tusker-Bear Cub. Very confused and scared. It was taught several tricks by its master, including riding a unicycle. None of that seems to be much use.
    
    Tusker-Bear Cub (1) [AL N, MV 90' (30'), AC 6, HD 2 (11 hp), #AT 3 (claw/claw/bite or tusk-gore), DG 1d3/1d3/1d4, SV T2, ML 4. Special: The cub has the basic idea of how to wield a sword, but isn't fully trained as yet. If it gets the opportunity, it will attempt to pick-up a sword and use it in its defense.]
19. Rats. Lots of fat, sleek, well-fed rats. They would just as soon ignore you, but will attack if provoked.
    
    Fat Rats (5d10) [AL N, MV 60' (20'), AC 9, HD 1 hp, #AT 1, DG 1d6+Disease, SV Zero-Level Human, ML 5. Special: If damaged, the rats bleed a thick, metallic-red material more like grease than normal blood. Some strange side-effect brought about by eating a lot of Red Weeds, no doubt.]
20. A large Unseen Beast is contentedly grazing on the Red Weeds. Until you showed up. Now it's a might peeved. Especially now that you've gotten between it and its young.
    
    Unseen Mother-Beast (1) [AL N, MV 120' (40'), AC 4, HD 6 (39 hp), #AT 1, DG 2d6 (30% chance of additional 1d6 with Trample), SV F6, ML n/a -- The Mother-Beast will continue to attack until it feels that its young are safe, in this frenzied state she will continue to fight even after reaching -20 hp. Special: Invisible.]
    
    Unseen Young (1d4) [AL C, MV 60' (20'), AC 4, HD 2 (12 each), #AT 1, DG 1d4 (10% chance to Trample for additional 1d4), SV F2, ML 12 (Oblivious, unless Mother is grunting in warning then 3). Special: Invisible.]

You may also find the Random Swarms Table handy.

In the Burned-Over Districts (Wermspittle)

Here I came once more upon the black powder in the streets and upon dead bodies. I saw altogether about a dozen in the length of the Fulham Road. They had been dead many days, so that I hurried quickly past them. The black powder covered them over, and softened their outlines. One or two had been disturbed by dogs...

The War of the Worlds, Book Two, Chapter Eight

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One Hundred Things Littering the Streets of the Burned Over Districts in Wermspittle

1. Crushed and scattered bones of several cats and rabbits.
2. Farther on was a tattered woman in a heap on a doorstep; the hand that hung over her knee was gashed and bled down her rusty brown dress, and a smashed magnum of champagne formed a pool across the pavement. She seemed asleep, but she was dead.
3. Battered tin trunk packed with clothes, all slightly moldy and saturated by mud.
4. Nearly half a cord of dry fire-wood piled under a tarpaulin beside the collapsed wrought-iron steps to a burned-out building.
5. A mound of (3d10) charred corpses. No sign of whomever stacked them.
6. Red Weeds have taken-over a section of the street that is now densely overgrown to a depth of (3d4) feet. There are puddles of water underneath the red fronds, in some places the water is over six feet deep and there is a small chance to slip and possibly drown.
7. Green-grocer's cart with a smashed wheel. Stripped of anything useful. A swarm of Knife-Flies or Puffer-Maggots may have taken-up residence in the thing. You can find out if you disturb them.
8. Straw hat trampled into the now hardened mud.
9. A battered ceremonial cutlass, heavily notched from much use.
10. Dirty hatchet next to a caved-in hole.
11. Garden wheel-barrow filled with wet dirt.
12. Red Fronds form a sort of canopy over the street. They are also infested with hundreds of tiny bats that feed upon the blood-red berries produced by this variety of Red Weed. The bats also like the taste of human blood, which is amazingly similar to the sap they normally feed upon.
13. Pack of well-worn cards.
14. A pair of reading glasses, missing the lenses.
15. (2d4) gold chains and a watch scattered on the ground, having fallen from a looter's sack.
16. Another skeleton, with the arms dislocated and removed several yards from the body.
17. Black Smoke cylinder, half-buried in a mound of rubble and debris. [Appears to be a dud.]
18. Skull of a sheep, picked clean.
19. Handsome selenite paperweight. The inscription has been scratched into illegibility.
20. Man covered in black dust, thoroughly insensible and stupid due to a binge of Dim Ichor.
21. Overturned coach. All the wheels are missing.
22. A spoon.
23. Enormous quantities of a ruddy-brown fluid have been spattered all about the place. It has mostly dried. It smells faintly metallic and causes dysentery if handled or comes into contact with bare flesh.
24. You notice an ominously noxious smell emanating from a near-by grate.
25. Broken and battered ice-box torn loose from a bar. Only a few maggots inside.
26. A dog with a piece of putrescent red meat in its jaws coming headlong towards you, followed by a pack of starving mongrels in howling pursuit.
27. A shapeless mass of gnawed gristle of indeterminate nature.
28. Red Creepers have pulled-down two buildings, completely burying an alley-way.
29. Two smashed bicycles. A good deal of blood smeared on the seat of one of them.
30. A multitude of dogs are fighting over the grisly contents of a partially exposed plague pit.
31. A great circular pit extending downwards more than 600 feet. The walls are crumbling gravel and give off wisps of a faint greenish vapor when disturbed. The bottom of the pit is submerged under 30 feet of stagnant water coated with a heavy layer of black scum.
32. Six feet of a rudely severed metal tentacle.
33. A lingering cloud of Black Smoke (Type I). [Save or suffer 3d6 per round of exposure. Water nullifies the smoke, reducing it to a gritty residue. Dense, inky; tends to swirl oddly, almost fluidly, and is substantially heavier than air.]
34. Two filthy squatters caught-up in a dim contest of whispers tumble out from behind a pile of rubble as they wrestle over the last of their food. In the midst of their sad struggle, a dog runs away with their tin of biscuits.
35. A dense mound of inert blue powder slowly sifting into the cracks and crevices all around it.
36. The desiccated, exsanguinated corpse of a stout, ruddy, well-dressed middle-aged man of some consequence; he's been dead for about three days. Triangular wound in abdomen crusted over with dried blood and mucous.
37. Dirty and bedraggled, a Frothy Repenter shambles along babbling snatches of garbled scripture and old advertising slogans. A yellowish foam dribbles from their lips. Anyone they bite must Save at -2 or go mad themselves. They are inconsolable, driven by instinct and fear, looking for anything to eat or drink, and will attack upon sighting anything they think might be edible.
38. A bloodied meat chopper left lying on the steps to a cellar scullery.
39. Three rickety doors have been stacked one atop the other.
40. (4d10) pounds of loose coal scattered from a large dented bucket left lying in the street.
41. Broken glass covers the ground in a roughly thirty-foot radius. The whole area reeks of wine, urine and burnt meat. It might be possible to locate (1d4) intact bottles of wine or beer, all of it of low quality.
42. The cold remains of a week-old bonfire built-up from heaps of furniture dragged from the nearest houses.
43. A gas mask missing the lenses.
44. (1d4) hungry dogs watch you warily. They seem afraid of you.
45. A yellow metal bench ripped loose from its concrete pad and propped-up against the door of a half-collapsed building.
46. (1d6) empty biscuit tins rolling around on the ground.
47. A glass of rain-water coated with black scum.
48. Cast-iron pump-handle. It was recently used as a make-shift club. Bits of skin, hair and blood still attached at the end.
49. A wretchedly scrawny dog that will not stop barking no matter what you might try.
50. (4d6) Blackened Birds flutter out from a near-by pit. Each of them explodes into a cloud of Black Smoke (Type II) upon taking more than 3 points of damage. [Save at -2 penalty or suffer 4d4 damage for next 2d6 rounds as blood transforms into a toxic black ooze. Nullified by water, but becomes extremely flammable if exposed to alcohol and will burst into flames inflicting 3d6 damage in a twenty foot radius.]
51. Small mound of grayish-blue powder. Incredibly slippery. Only slightly toxic. [Save +2 or suffer 1d4 damage, affected area permanently stained light bluish.]
52. (3d4) inert skeletons coated in black grit.
53. A slipper.
54. A gaunt gray cat slinks along a wall. It ignores you.
55. Loose rubble. [60% chance of it collapsing. Save or DEX Check, fail and it inflicts 2d6 damage. Player can opt to take no damage but be buried to a depth of (3d4) feet underneath the debris.]
56. (1d4) Red Trees growing out of a section of ruined wall. The gnarled roots have infiltrated every nook and cranny of the old stonework. Viscous red sap drips like blood from the trees, making the surrounding area slippery (Dex check). The sap dries into a scab-like mess that causes 1d4 damage if left on exposed skin.
57. (2d4) candles in a water-logged cardboard box.
58. Black thorn-bushes have sprouted-up through the cobbles.
59. A rather lordly carriage, burned into a shambles.
60. Two human skeletons--not bodies, but skeletons--picked clean.
61. Burnt trees. Burnt grass. The cobbles and a section of near-by wall is intensely scorched. If examined closely, one can make out several shadow-like shapes indelibly burned into the stones.
62. A layer of gray clinkers mixed-in with a fine, sooty gray ash covers the street. There is a thin crust formed from exposure to the rain. Disturbing the crust will stir up a cloying, choking cloud of dust that has the stench of burned meat. [Reduce visibility to 10%, Save or be incapacitated by choking and coughing for 1d4 rounds.]
63. (1d4) Feral Children amuse themselves throwing stones at you from a roof-top. They quickly disperse and go into hiding if confronted or convincingly threatened with violence. They are not scared. Only waiting for the right opportunity.
64. A fragment of yellowish-white metal that looks like part of some cylindrical-shaped structure.
65. The cart of a ginger-beer peddler, smashed and splintered as though stepped on by a huge, rounded foot.
66. An old-fashioned tricycle, with a small front wheel, bent into scrap-metal.
67. Three charred bodies clumped together.
68. A blood-stained and slightly singed white flag juts up from the dried muck surrounding a broken section of pavement.
69. A clock. The hands are missing. So are the weights.
70. A set of binoculars missing the lenses.
71. A bent and pitted parabolic mirror of unknown composition.
72. Lingering green smoke. It coils sluggishly in the air, but otherwise seems harmless.
73. Dozens of splintered, fractured and partially-melted bricks scattered across the ground from a wall that still bulges as though exposed to an incredible amount of heat.
74. A broken wine-glass. 
75. (2d4) dark, dimly seen objects lying in contorted attitudes here and there.
76. Two spades stuck into the side of a rough hole dug into the side of a rampart-like mound of tightly-packed earth that mostly buries what remains of the next three houses.
77. An expensive hand-carved pipe.
78. A badly cracked chimney collapses into a pile of debris and a quickly-dispersed cloud of soot and dust.
79. Eight full place-settings in fine silver, wrapped-up in an elegant table-cloth and lying half-submerged in a puddle of foul-smelling water.
80. A lurid green glare lights up the night. A falling star.
81. A heap of black broadcloth and two boots. Look more closely and you'll see it's a dead soldier.
82. There is a sharp resinous tang of burning in the air. But no sign of what is burning. Nor where.
83. The broken remains of a caisson, all the ammunition is gone.
84. A broken cash-box. Sifting through the dried mud will reveal (3d6) random coins.
85. Dismal gray stems jut up from a dense thicket of Red Weeds.
86. A smashed heliograph.
87. A little hand-truck, piled with unclean-looking bundles and shabby furniture.
88. What looks to be a cannon, possibly a 12-pounder, only it has been somehow melted and slightly flattened, like a stick of butter left out too long in the sun.
89. (1d4) golf clubs. No bag. Just the clubs.
90. A small outhouse door piled with a variety of cheap household goods.
91. (1d12) fragments of some sort of glittery bronze-type alloy.
92. A woman's shawl trampled into a puddle of ruddy-brown fluid. The fluid has a pudding-like consistency, but seems inert.
93. This hospital tent has been burned down to a smoldering frame. It's unclear if there are any bodies mixed-in with the charred debris.
94. A small portmanteau, its owner still clutches it, the last third of their body is so much black soot and cracked bones.
95. Overturned, the front-end of this motor-cart is badly smashed-in. The batteries in the back-end are mostly broken, leaking and quite useless.
96. A slender, black whip. The handle has been snapped.
97. Some bloody rags. Torn and ragged. They were removed by violence.
98. Burnt, blackened and crumpled horribly, the ruined observation balloon dangles from the dead branches of a dead tree wreathed in Red Creepers.
99. (3d6) Bread Ration Tickets blow across the cobbles. Worthless.
100. A pile of globes, forms and copy-books removed from a children's school. All of it reeks of heating oil. The small band of Orphans who were setting-up this trap were jumped by someone, or something else. There's a good bit of blood spattered on the cobbles not far from the pile of school house debris.