Sub-etheric location The Beautiful Face

Sub-etheric location

The Beautiful Face

Far beyond the imperial border, somewhere below the Third Sub-ether it is said by certain, perhaps more philosophically minded spacers, lay a profound transformative experience that allows one to touch – and be touched by – a God.

Finding the right set of coordinates should find the PCs and their vessel some one thousand lights into the Rimward Beyond where, in an analog to otherwise empty interstellar space (there are no star systems for 8 - 10 lights in any direction)  

A brilliant white light will seem to emanate from a distant patch of dense mist of etheric ‘matter.’

Penetration of this ‘fogbank’ will reveal a sort of mini domain approximately half a light across – inside which, the ship or any voyages will be mystically drawn toward the nucleus regardless of intended heading or engine configuration.   (Exception: turning the ship round 180 and going to full will allow a ship to leave relatively unmolested so long as they do so prior to encountering the nucleus.)

At the nucleus, which could take anywhere from 2 hours to five days to reach depending, they will seem to be in an endless expanse of white that stretches off to infinity in every perceived direction; Have they been dumped unceremoniously into some far sector of the White Sky? No.  This close to the nucleus, time and space apparently go on forever, both sensors and mystic information gathering will reveal much the same thing.

Some 2d3 hours after arrival at the nucleus, the crew will see the Face.  Best viewed from a distance, it will appear around 800,000 kilometers ahead, in the ship’s intended path of movement – a pale, made up, humanoid face about 8000 km high, surrounded by balls or bubbles of coloured light that ripple and change texture constantly.

On approach, the most startling transformation occurs.  Those who have been touched by the whims of fate and the winds of luck (the Player Characters) are intriguing to the thing that appears as a face, and it will seek to draw them out so as to better examine them.

Flesh flows like wax as all of the party are simultaneously ‘blended’ – their flesh ‘flows’ off of their bones and slides into a central pile where it combines with the other flesh of the party.  Unless the resident skeletons of the PCs exceed a DC 20 Will save, said skeletal remnants will be compelled to gather the now roiling pool of shifting flesh into a ball, whereupon they will roll the ball down to the nearest airlock.  Eventually the ball will be ejected into the Sub-ether and the skeletons will, one at a time, leap into the jelly-like ball and be consumed by it until the last skeleton has done so.

IN the meantime the ball of flesh continues to generate a bizarre array of sensory information to the fully aware and strangely not riddled with pain brains of the PCs.  IT will slowly be drawn toward the face itself, at which time a voice will seem to ripple from the face, whose lips do not move,

Be One Flesh

And so they will become.  In moments, the characters will flow together, experiencing a temporary feeling of oneness and the death of their ego.   The face, if any can perceive it, will seem to close it’s eyes and derive some sort of satisfaction, possibly pleasure, from the experience. 

Then as soon as it began, the characters will, one at a time, be reconstituted out of the flesh ball and, in a kind of stasis, returned to their vessel.  Once all are aboard, the ship will be propelled out of this region, often emerging 1d3+7 days later at a point some (roll %d000) lights distant in a random direction.

Further, the PCs will find that not all of their qualities have come through intact, in fact it does seem that they have traded certain aspects of themselves with one another.  These do seem to be permanent.

System – For every PC who experiences this bizarreness, pick a single ability score (randomly works), this score is about to change, rather permanently.  Consult the other PCs record sheets; from them determine (pick or roll randomly) which one swaps that ability score out with the PC.

Repeat this process for all Player characters so affected.  Stats may be swapped between multiple parties.  If this means that some all wind up with one character’s 14 strength (or whatever) then so be it.  All of them will seem to have inherited bits of the strength donating character, and vice versa.

This will probably prove pretty unsettling for them. 

Ideally this should be an unsettling encounter that leaves the party a bit closer together, one way or another.   At the Judge’s option and with the full cooperation of the players, possibly other character attributes could be swapped out. Alignment, class, race, in theory it’s all possible depending on how far you want to take the remixing of the player party.  

Feed the Witch’s Bloodflowers

Feed the Witch’s Bloodflowers

You have successfully journeyed to and petitioned to gain audience to the Seer Witch of the Violet Fens; she greets you and leads you forward into her garden where she stops to show you her BLOODFLOWERS.

A 20x30 patch of red and black flowering plants, appearing as somewhat oversized /exaggerated rose petals surrounding a pink and black orchid’s inner workings. They are warm to the touch (she says) and they reach for her hands when she gestures over them.  She claims that some have been pleased to flatter her by ‘feeding’ her flower beds.

The stems wave in the non-existent wind and gently meeping if you approach to ‘feed’ them.

What do you feed them?

1	Water – HOW DIRTY IS THE WATER? (If not known determine by %) If water is more than 67% dirty, then her flowers immediately dissolved into putrid brown and purple mud.  The Fen Witch is now super honked off and throws 9d6 of lightning at d5 members of your party, conveniently standing in a line up unless specifically and previously stated otherwise.  Roll init.  The Fen Witch should be pretty tough – equal to an 11th level magic-user or thereabouts.   Most of her magic involves throwing curses, weaponized bad luck, and gruesome transformations your way.  Also elements.  Speaking of, on her next attack, she ignites anything mundane and flammable the party is carrying or, you know, wearing. D3 points of damage the first round, d2 the second, and one point the final round if they are still peeling out of flaming robes etc. If water is less than 67% dirty then the flowers turn chalky white.   Immediately a 10x10 thundercloud appears over the PCs and dispenses life giving rainwater.   If 01-32% dirty then 3d8 points of damage are healed by the single round rain shower.   If 33-46 % dirty then 2d6 points are so healed, and if 46-66% dirty then 1d6 of healing rain ensues. UNLESS HOLY WATER, then 0% dirty – The flowers sizzle and crack like frying bacon on contact with the now smoldering vapor that was your holy water.  In an instant the whole mass dissolves into a puddle of greenish, putrid slime.  The Fen Which, meanwhile, polymorphs (or perhaps De-polymorphs) into (or from) the shape of Be-Nighel, least angel of guardian forces, a 12 foot battle maiden resplendent in shimmering celestial armor of mithril and cobalt.   Smiling in acknowledgment she claims “You have passed the test, sinful mortals.” And immediately gates you to the source of what you seek, answering any other question within her purview honestly in the meantime.  Anyone foolish enough to attack even a least angel will be counter attacked by a 12 HD creature who strikes with the Holy, Avenging, and Vorpal qualities.  Once she collects the offender’s head, she disappears, gone forever. Did you feed it unholy water?  Wow really?  You’ll go far and then you’ll die bad.  With an exultant cry in low-middling Barazhad of I’M FREE The flowers immediately fuse into Dionaeheus Drosaria, known else as  FLARGNIVIGORTH the FLORAL CATASTROPHIE, (AC -2 / 22 HD 10 HP around 60; immune to non-magical missiles and non-magical fire.) who in one single attack springs, eats, and consumes the Fen Witch.  “How can its Floral Dreadfulness assist you mortal? “ The abyssal arch druid can do almost anything involving demon flowers.
2	Milk – Cow’s Milk?  Hundreds of tiny little mouths audibly slurp up that which was meant for calves.  The witch nods once and sees to your question.   If Hathor or another cow goddess exists in your campaign, you may have just honked Her off. Goat’s Milk?   Better.  It turns blue when it splashes over the bloody rose petals and is rapidly absorbed into the thing.  Meanwhile its stalk grows several inches over a few minutes time. Mare’s Milk – the milk itself recoils from the flower petals as though a living thing.  Tendrils from the inner folds of the flower snap out and audibly suck the milk from mid-air where it attempts to flee with a scream. (Yes this is just as surreal as it sounds.)  Mother’s Milk – human milk? I’m not going ask why you’re carrying that around in a wineskin but whatever.  The flowers hungrily devour it directly, the veins noticeably swelling to absorb every drop.  Secretly, the donor is given one (demonic) wish.
3	Wine – IS IT WATERED?  Y/N Yes  - That which fed the offending liquid is consumed in a fireball of spontaneous human (or elven, dwarfen, etc.) combustion; 10d6 of stinky gas blasting organic residue erupt from the feeder, likely (at least) splitting them in half, if not making them explode outright. If less than 0 hp remain, then after the fireball (which lights nothing else on fire) only charred bits of teeth and bone remain.  No - The flowers drink it, as though they possessed a mouth, esophagus and so on. You have no idea how they are doing it but they consume as much as you feed. If you have wine remaining they seem to “follow” you until you leave the area.   The witch smiles and answers your questions.
4	Blood – the most obvious…save that they don’t drink blood. You pour the stuff of life itself uselessly over the succulent, fleshy blood petals.  The witch laughs at you. She will tell you nothing and your quest has failed.   You are teleported home (1 in 6) or (5 in 6) to room (roll a d24) in the Judge’s favorite scenario or adventure.  IF this makes no goddam sense either roll with it or have the whole thing be a pollen induced hallucination that wears off in d12 rooms’ worth of encounters. Either way you keep the XP. Either way, if you’re dead, you die.  If you still care about your quest thereafter, the witch will tell you what you wish to know and offer to transport you there via scrying portal or giant bird-demon.
5	Mead – You lucky soul you.  You are either very lucky, very wise, or very very favored by the Gods (assuming there is a meaningful distinction anyway).  The open petals of the flower or flowers so anointed turn a shade of golden-amber immediately.   The Floral Abomination has not had a drink in SOOOO LOOOONG and certainly not Godsblessed mead.  When the mead-donor next dies, they will immediately be reborn d24 hours later as a PC possible class possessing half their current experience points but not necessarily as their original class or race (or gender, or age, or sex, or ethnicity, or any other such thing).
6	Not a Damn Thing – Smart.  Also safe and so not very daring. Not at all. Your next expenditure of luck will cost double as a reminder to take the occasional risk you so-called adventurer you.