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rookshire_hillHello, and welcome! Thank you for your interest in joining Rookshire. To keep the beginning of the game a surprise for the players, this TDM is Not Plot Related. Instead, it is a collection of situations that a player could possibly find themselves in during the game. Everything is left intentionally vague, so please feel free to ad lib as you see fit!
Feel free to join us over in Discord Enjoy!
Off to the Market
After so long being the potential 'odd ones' to a new place, it was almost refreshing to see the assorted modge podge of life at the open air market. Humanoids, quadrupeds, winged creatures that probably wouldn't really enjoy being called 'creatures'...everyone milled around, brushing shoulders and making small talk with venders and other patrons alike.
The residual buzzing energy from the storm left words flowing easily between peoples and cultures, language barriers temporarily collapsed in favor of an all-inclusive, worlds spanning shopping trip.
Because sometimes, things are just that universal.
The stalls span as far as the eye can see, venders selling everything that one could possibly think of. Food of every type, flavor, and degree of cooked. Goods in every material and every skill level. No one was turned away from barking their wares, it would seem.
For good reason, too. This market never lasted long. It came and went with the storms, popping up here, there, wherever and never in the same place at the same time. It was as random as the people that browsed it, and no one seemed all that willing to let anyone in on the secret of its travels.
You're welcome to browse...but start asking too many questions and the venders start closing ranks.
Why it's a bad idea to explore during the storm.
'It would just be a few minutes' you said. 'I just forgot one thing.' It was supposed to be a quick dash upstairs, down the hall, and in and out. Simple, easy....
CrackBOOM
The first chest thudding crack of thunder hit on your way out and in that blink of an eye, the door that your fingers had just been on was gone. Smooth cinderblock wall replaced it and all around you came the sounds of rock sliding slowly over cement. The rooms were starting to move. More importantly, they were starting to move with you trapped inside.
Right in front of your eyes, the room's furnishings started to bend and warp, melting and fading away until there was just a bare room left behind. The windows that had looked out onto the green tinged storm outside had gone dark...and not just 'it's dark outside' dark. In fact, that particular darkness gave the impression that should one try to throw something into it, that something would never be seen again.
Would the shortwave walkie clipped to your belt still work? Only one way to find out. Better hurry, though. The door will eventually come back, but what would the room be by the time that happened? And, perhaps more importantly, where would it lead?
Rough times, questionable risks.
It had been a tough month. Food stores were all but bare, and water had been threatening to scrape the bottom of the barrel for days. Bellies were empty and tempers were short and as soon as the last bits of storm faded into distant, harmless rumbles, it was finally safe to get out. To open the doors and find out where Rookshire had dropped you this time.
Was it a town? A bustling village, with inhabitants that might be a little strange, but would no doubt be willing to trade? How about a city? Something huge and sprawling that no one would look twice at a bag of supplies that simply wasn't perched on the corner of a shelf anymore.
No. Of course not. A forest, thick and wild.....but there may be promise yet. Several hundred feet in and it was practically impossible to not trip over a bush. Specifically, a bush laden with a...berry? No, that was too big to be a berry. Plum? Right size, wrong color. Plums didn't come in cherry red, did they? Apparently, here they do. They feel firm in the hand and smell sweet and crisp, almost like an apple crossed lines with a kiwi.
Do you dare try it? The bushes are everywhere, heavy with fruit. They'd be such a wonderful treat after the past week of low rations...
(Roll a D6.
6 = Perfectly edible and tasty!
4-5 = Edible, but absolutely horrible in the mouth
2-3 = Oh, so nasty! And the tummy rumbles very unhappily...
1 = Tastes like ambrosia. Feels like death.)
Feel free to join us over in Discord Enjoy!
Off to the Market
After so long being the potential 'odd ones' to a new place, it was almost refreshing to see the assorted modge podge of life at the open air market. Humanoids, quadrupeds, winged creatures that probably wouldn't really enjoy being called 'creatures'...everyone milled around, brushing shoulders and making small talk with venders and other patrons alike.
The residual buzzing energy from the storm left words flowing easily between peoples and cultures, language barriers temporarily collapsed in favor of an all-inclusive, worlds spanning shopping trip.
Because sometimes, things are just that universal.
The stalls span as far as the eye can see, venders selling everything that one could possibly think of. Food of every type, flavor, and degree of cooked. Goods in every material and every skill level. No one was turned away from barking their wares, it would seem.
For good reason, too. This market never lasted long. It came and went with the storms, popping up here, there, wherever and never in the same place at the same time. It was as random as the people that browsed it, and no one seemed all that willing to let anyone in on the secret of its travels.
You're welcome to browse...but start asking too many questions and the venders start closing ranks.
Why it's a bad idea to explore during the storm.
'It would just be a few minutes' you said. 'I just forgot one thing.' It was supposed to be a quick dash upstairs, down the hall, and in and out. Simple, easy....
CrackBOOM
The first chest thudding crack of thunder hit on your way out and in that blink of an eye, the door that your fingers had just been on was gone. Smooth cinderblock wall replaced it and all around you came the sounds of rock sliding slowly over cement. The rooms were starting to move. More importantly, they were starting to move with you trapped inside.
Right in front of your eyes, the room's furnishings started to bend and warp, melting and fading away until there was just a bare room left behind. The windows that had looked out onto the green tinged storm outside had gone dark...and not just 'it's dark outside' dark. In fact, that particular darkness gave the impression that should one try to throw something into it, that something would never be seen again.
Would the shortwave walkie clipped to your belt still work? Only one way to find out. Better hurry, though. The door will eventually come back, but what would the room be by the time that happened? And, perhaps more importantly, where would it lead?
Rough times, questionable risks.
It had been a tough month. Food stores were all but bare, and water had been threatening to scrape the bottom of the barrel for days. Bellies were empty and tempers were short and as soon as the last bits of storm faded into distant, harmless rumbles, it was finally safe to get out. To open the doors and find out where Rookshire had dropped you this time.
Was it a town? A bustling village, with inhabitants that might be a little strange, but would no doubt be willing to trade? How about a city? Something huge and sprawling that no one would look twice at a bag of supplies that simply wasn't perched on the corner of a shelf anymore.
No. Of course not. A forest, thick and wild.....but there may be promise yet. Several hundred feet in and it was practically impossible to not trip over a bush. Specifically, a bush laden with a...berry? No, that was too big to be a berry. Plum? Right size, wrong color. Plums didn't come in cherry red, did they? Apparently, here they do. They feel firm in the hand and smell sweet and crisp, almost like an apple crossed lines with a kiwi.
Do you dare try it? The bushes are everywhere, heavy with fruit. They'd be such a wonderful treat after the past week of low rations...
(Roll a D6.
6 = Perfectly edible and tasty!
4-5 = Edible, but absolutely horrible in the mouth
2-3 = Oh, so nasty! And the tummy rumbles very unhappily...
1 = Tastes like ambrosia. Feels like death.)
