Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Satchel Buck’s Lonely Souls Club

Source unknown


A great red-and-purple striped tent appears outside of town. Paper cranes fly through the streets, perch on the eaves of churches, peck at breadcrumbs in the town squares – unfolded, they are advertisements printed out on overwrought stationary a century and a half out of style, promising “A meanes of Connection betweene single Persons of alle Strypes, forre reasonabul Prices.”

Satchel Buck’s Lonely Souls Club is in town, come on down and see the band.

Satchel Buck is a male human in his 40s – swarthy, portly, and always wearing garishly bright motley (The colors change daily). He will react positively to any sort of interest in the Club and will very enthusiastically explain his business to anyone present – willingness to listen is optional. He’ll sell the benefits of the Club for all its worth. He’ll have to be told twice to let it go.

His wife is named Othan, a bluish-pink creature reminiscent of a gigantic sea slug, with an eight-lobed eye and a mane of feathery antenna. She keeps the books, takes care of the oxen, and maintains the spells that run the club. If she’s out of the wagon (she tends towards long afternoon naps, but is usually up later in the evening), she’ll be willing to converse with party members who seem to be having a good time. If Satchel is present, he’ll provide all sorts of sickeningly sweet anecdotes of how they met and so on

The interior of the Club is a dark, cozy space filled with several dozen round tables, each with two chairs. The outer wall is lined with other doors, each with a number above it, through which other patrons will enter or exit. Satchel will make note that, while it is possible to go through other doors, it may become very difficult to return, and so he does not advise it except as a major life choice. Keep a good hold on your ticket and remember your number.

Patrons of the club are encouraged to move from table to table, listen to the band, and partake in the buffet. A single session in the Club lasts for one hour (long enough for four good introductions) and costs 15 gold, though an extension can always be purchased from Satchel or Othan. Any other questions can be answered by the servers on the floor.

The especially brave can have a wedding right then and there, officiated by an automaton cleric-cabinet. The automaton is frightening and not to be trusted, but comes with interchangeable rites of marriage appropriate to most major religions. It costs 50 gold for a basic marriage package. A lawyer of the Selachii School is on staff for divorce as needed, but he tends to charge an arm and a leg. He will provide a bonesaw free of charge, if you find yourself in need of it.

Behind the Curtain

Satchel is deep in debt and will be found in the wagon with his kneecaps shattered three days after the Club arrives in town. Othan will be missing, Satchel will insist everything is okay (despite his injuries) and the Club will depart the next day.

The next time the party encounters the Club (1d4 major settlements later), Othan will be running the Club and Satchel will be gone. She will remain tight-lipped on the subject, to the point of having the party escorted out of the club if they persist.

Satchel owes money to:
  1. Dungbeetle Billy and his Curious Cabal
  2. The Lynching Tree, hungry for gold around its roots.
  3. The Green Cutter Gang
  4. Anessa, his ex-wife.
  5. A painting of a crippled man
  6. Mammon, duke of Hell.

Try Your Luck and See Where Your Heart Leads You!

Simply tell Satchel who you're looking for and he'll set you right up! You may take the 'Somewhat Adventurous Option" to sub out one of their four meetings with a denizen of table 3. For a little something extra, run these tables alongside the Easy Family TreesDon't forget those reaction rolls!

I’m Looking for Men... (d66)

11. Homely turnip farmer
12. Librarian wizard
13. Androzon stage actor
14. Nightmare painter
15. Sports warrior
16. Nightsoil priest of Cloacina
21. Terminally ill Romantic poet
22. An aged golem-sculptor
23. A shell-shocked veteran of the War
24. Necromancer’s gardener
25. Oolian runaway
26. Cartography guildsman
31. Three goblins in an overcoat
32. Unscrupulous industrialist
33. Vulture priest
34. Byronian swordsman
35. Coffee-brewer, enterprising entrepreneur
36. Misshapen gunslinger
41. Pillar-saint of Irem
42. Self-taught plantain mage
43. Jaded haruspex
44. A lonely bureaucrat of Hell
45. Friendly nudist who needs a workout
46. Guardsman for rent
51. Jellybean counter
52. Pearl diver, gave up his noble title
53. Despairing time-slave
54. Skunk-ape-man
55. Sailor of the Midnight Sky
56. Tosher of the Merde Grande
61. One of the thousand emperors of Hispir
62. Hidebound, incompetent honor-warrior
63. Wizarding student expelled for summoning a succubus on campus
64. Eclipse-reader, writing a book of Sun-Lore
65. Bulette-rider postman
66. Silk pirate looking to settle down

I’m Looking for Ladies... (d66)

11. Demonologist and natural philosopher, cheery and determined.
12. Plays the jazz trumpet, is and has a cool cat
13. Amazonian warrior, home from the War
14. Maple dryad in need of a change
15. Emancipated homunculus
16. Professional catfisher, tells whoppers
21. Chiurgeon with an iron stomach
22. Constantly wears boneplate and chitin armor
23. Farmgirl with a sword and a dream
24. Bhedunin priestess released from her family obligations
25. Landsquid hunter, a native of the Outback
26. Up-and-coming witch
31. An Autumn Knight. Peaceful, melancholic.
32. Wandering Color-Maker
33. Crab-rider nun, looking for adventure
34. Another PC’s younger sister
35. The Garbage Queen, down and out
36. Rottweiler cynocephalus, over-affectionate
41. Mermaid in a fishtank golem
42. Shamaness of the Ammonite
43. Gun-Saint of An-Hehm
44. Pyromancer of the Obsidian Islands
45. An anglerwife out for a new husband
46. Elderly book merchant
51. Keeper of demon-bees, seller of hell-honey
52. A Sin-Eater, friendly and forgiving
53. Insufferable magical princess
54. Cryptosaurian infiltrator in a skinsuit.
55. Arch-Penitent: crime unknown, sentence most severe
56. Gonzo investigative reporter with a finely tuned, Detect Bullshit aura
61. Iron-eyed oathbreaker from the North. A woman of few words.
62. Simpleminded noodle chef. Has the magic touch.
63. Stockbroker with no volume control.
64. A foxy lady. Absolute tease, watch the tail.
65. A Black Amazon death-raider, follower of Orca
66. Proxy body of a Solar Sailfin.

I’m (d6)…
  1. Looking for ways to mess with my smartass players
  2. Looking for very particular options.
  3. Not picky at all.
  4. A smartass player
  5. A horrible deviant with no shame whatsoever

11. A skeleton in a dinner suit, accompanied by three black cats.
12. An indistinct humanoid form frozen in a block of ice, communicates through shimmering letters on the surface.
13. A modestibus. Hopelessly clingy and terribly repressed.
14. A terrible obsidian idol, hungry for blood.
15. MURDER-CUBE, eternal enemy of DEATH-BALL
16. A dice-god, bored and looking for a game.
21. A gigantic, all-devouring and incredibly evil spider attempting and failing to act sexy
22. A Parasaurolophus
23. Amalgamation of a thousand alternate universe versions of a street sweeper
24. DEATH-BALL, eternal enemy of MURDER CUBE
25. A county-sized colonial fungus, wishes to become a real country
26. A large iron hook, hanging from a rope that trails up into infinity. There is a bowl set around it containing a rack of barbecue ribs, with corn cobs, coleslaw, and a bottle of beer. A hand-painted sign reads “FRI FUD 2 HUNGRI PEEPLE.”
31. The Gloaming Beast. Looks fearsome, is actually quite gentle.
32. Astral parasite, wants a new head to live in.
33. Three tons of sapient lasagna
34. A rampallious Fustilarian
35. An enthusiastic mimic who always gets something wrong
36. Great Big CrunchyMunch, King of Breakfast Cereals
41. Owlbear in a schoolgirl outfit
42. A figure in a dark cloak, with oversized, sweaty hands. Quite nervous.
43. Philosophical Zombie (1. Pythagorean 2. Confucian 3. Thomist 4. Marxist)
44. Animated cast-iron gimp suit
45. Man-sized Faberge cocoon, about to hatch
46. Medic-beetle. Enjoys sewing things back together. Maybe a bit too much.
51. Infectiously positive yellow monopod, constantly hopping about
52. A hairy biped with a head like a fiery wagon wheel. Well versed in esoteric meditation.
53. Vat containing a talkative Chili Platonic.
54. Laconic black hole farmer from the end of the universe
55. Curious entity that communicates entirely through tea leaves.
56. The Burning Monolith. Look upon it and despair, mortal.
61. A chalkboard filled with living mathematics
62. Death, who has had a few too many drinks
63. A human head, inside a chicken, inside a turkey, inside a pig, all cooked and piping hot
64. A knobbly orange crab inside a geode that screams obscenities at the sun
65. A very, very, very large kidney stone. Looks vaguely like a moai head.

"Size Matters" by James Zapata

And for those of you who would like this in PDF form: click here.

1 comment:

  1. I have been working on this on and off for months now and am immensely pleased with the result.

    Also, pinterest is swiftly becoming the bane of my existence. That tent picture has been reposted about four hundred times and no one sources the origin!

    ReplyDelete