Showing posts with label Six-Sentence Scenarios. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Six-Sentence Scenarios. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Six-Sentence Scenarios: Back-Alleys of Wermspittle

Everything you need to kick off an adventure in six sentences.
No stats. No particular System. No guru, no method, no teacher, no hassle.
Just the raw six-sentence skeleton for you to hang whatever flesh upon it you like.

This time we're taking a look at the Back-alleys of Wermspittle.
Future installments can and will take place just about anywhere...

Six-Sentence Scenarios for the Back-Alleys of Wermspittle

  1. Enroute to the Low Marshes on an errand of mercy for a fellow Refugee, you take shelter in a burned-out shop. You've been warned. You know enough to come in from out of the rain. Like the Leech-monger huddled in the corner. You were sent after green-leeches, to drain-off the fever that is killing your friend. Should you wake the parasite-vendor?
  2. You've discovered an old coin while scrounging through the ruins of a collapsed building. The way the coin glimmers and ripples oddly, you just know it has to be magic of some sort. Best of all you're fairly certain that it is not a Dread Penny. The old man at Schroedinger & Cave's tells you that it is a Spaug coin. He offers you a stack of musty old bank notes for it. You are tempted, but this coin could be your escape from Wermspittle, after all; Winter is coming.
  3. The Oneirist was dead when you got there. Someone had caved-in their head. Massively. Wait--did you hear that? Something is moving over there, behind the rubbish heap. It's a Jaladari, a trinket-peddler, and it is bleeding, but it's still alive.
  4. An unlucky Toader dangles from a tangled length of knotted rope. They still desperately clutch a large (wax-sealed) glass jar within which floats a pickled Vilg. The Toader sways back and forth, back and forth as it tries to extricate itself from the ropes. It is growing increasingly anxious. It clearly is fearful of whomever...or whatever...might be pursuing it. Would you care to lend a hand?
  5. Gore-Worm sausages may be an acquired taste. Whether you get them by raiding a stall or roughing-up some kid making a delivery, most folks around here don't much care. Just as long as you acquire the sausages. You've been picked. Again. You're to go get some sausages from those Refugees and you best be quick about it.
  6. A lucky find today! A student from the Academy. They're in a bad way, some illicit or forged spell they were studying back-fired on them, but they're still marketable. All you have to decide is where you want to take them. The Butchers never pay well, but ask no questions. You might make more of a profit by going to some sorcerer, perhaps someone like that Idvard...

Six-Sentence Scenarios: Aldrin (Lithus Sector)


Everything you need to kick off an adventure in six sentences.
No stats. No particular System. No guru, no method, no teacher, no hassle.
Just the raw six-sentence skeleton for you to hang whatever flesh upon it you like.

This time we're looking at the planet Aldrin from the Telajan System in Lithus Sector.
Future installments can and will take place just about anywhere...

Six-Sentence Mission Briefings for Adventuring on Aldrin
  1. A group of xeno-paleontologists are outfitting a mission to the South Pole. Satellite surveys have indicated that there is a large artificial structure deep within the ring of volcanoes at the pole. A preliminary team sent back some incredible samples. Half of them believe it is a Precursor-site. Despite the carvings and markings on the fragments so far recovered not matching anything heretofore attributed to the Pylon-Builders. Could this be evidence of a second Precursor-species?
  2. The Masqued Doge of Kalemtrine-Commune has decreed vendetta against all Corprist personnel who remain within his domain after sunset today. That gives Merellon agents and operatives roughly 42 hours to get everyone out. Not everyone wants to go. Armed Response Teams are being readied for a few quick extractions. The other Aerostat-Communes are watching everything. Your job is to make a thorough mess of this effort, as per orders from the chief of counter-corporate espionage.
  3. Dome Five has gone offline. All communications are down. This undersea city-state was founded as a scientific utopia devoted to the exploration of the deep-water ecologies of Aldrin. They were fiercely independent and had a mutual-protection pact with two of the larger, more prominent nanoflagellate-fleets. Now the two fleets are scrambling to to find out what happened, but they cannot send in any of their own operatives without violating their respective agreements. Looks like a job for a team of independent contractors.
  4. A huge cyst-like bulge of hyper-coral has formed in the Dog Leg Channel off the coast of Samarkis Isle, a major offworld tourist-spot. The object is growing rapidly. Already it is disrupting air traffic in the area and all Aerostat-Communes within a ten mile radius are evacuating. Evidence of a closed-loop nanological sub-system has been reliably confirmed. It is a self-directed starship of some unidentified type. It's leaving.
  5. Each year, at either solstice, there is a great race of mat-skippers and similar vehicles on Aldrin. The race begins at Lower Uthrigon, per tradition, and proceeds along a different route each time. The competition is intense and carries a lot of offworld ratings. More than half of all competitors are offworlders. While enjoying lunch with some friends you witness a botched mugging. Only it wasn't really a mugging--the victim was a courier working for the Great Race and you are now in possession of a sealed packet that may or may not have the next race's course contained within it.
  6. A small company of young, upstart Achernarians are looking to set-up an exotic bivalve ranching operation somewhere in the outback of Aldrin. There's no regulatory red-tape to stop them. But one of the local busy-bodies, a freelance blogger based out of Duriss-Kadricky Platform in the Sea of Giskay, has taken an interest in this project. A very unwelcome interest. The Achernarians would like for the blogger to go away. Quietly, if possible.