Santo Círian (GLOGMAS 25 Charity - for ROBOT FACE)

    In the late 1400’s, an irishman raised the banner of Portugal on a small island in the indian ocean. That irishman was Kieran O’Seachnasaigh, who in honor of St. Kieran the Younger, his own namesake, christened the new land Santo Círian, and whatever name had been used by the ones who were there already disappeared as they did - into the ground, beneath the fields of sugarcane which soon blanketed whatever arable land could be found. As the centuries passed, the name stuck, but the ownership of the island itself did not. 

    It changed hands between portuguese and spaniard, frenchmen and dutch, and eventually, finally, the english; gaining formal independence in the 1960's, as a constitutional monarchy with the queen as head of state, and then full independence when a socialist revolution seized power and declared a republic. Soviet advisors sent to aid with the modernization of the economy discovered the presence of an oil field just offshore, just in time for the oil-price spikes of the 70's. 

    The resulting economic boom brought prosperity to the island, prosperity that vanished when prices dropped, and the resulting discontent gave fertile soil for the (american-supported) democratic movement that toppled the socialist government and returned the island to a liberal democracy which never quite managed to return to the old living standards, but did manage to send the young back into the cane-fields. It did not, that is, until recently, when the depopulation of the persian gulf in the first wave of the invasion sent energy prices skyrocketing again. Of course, the renewal of drilling on the island meant the attention of the invaders that had cut off mainland supply in the first place... 

C-IDF (Círian Insular Defense Forces):

The military of Santo Círian, and, following the execution of the civilian government on charges of communist sympathies and collaboration with the alien enemy, the acting government of the island state. Lead by general Paul Campstock (Soldier B), the military has control of the capital and port, and has outsourced protection of the water system to Ogun's Hammer, but despite its best efforts its attempts to re-nationalize Círian Petroleum have been stymied by the refusal of the company to recognize the legitimacy of the military government, and attempts at the platform's recapture by force have so far failed, with the already small air and water forces completely wiped out in the first failed assault. At present, their forces consist of one mech (Campstock's), 3 tanks, and 3 infantry companies, spread out across the island.

In reality, Paul Campstock was replaced by a shapeshifting alien on the first day of the attacks, and the rest of the military leaders willingly sold out to the invaders due to promises  the true aim of the military is to destroy the oil rig as soon as possible, in order to further the energy crisis suffered by the human forces. They're aware that Ogun's Hammer would depose them should the truth come out, so they've been sent off to protect the water infrastructure and distracted with occasional half-hearted alien raids while the military prepares for their second assault, where the mercenaries will be distracted by the army while the growing alien threat attacks the rig from the seabed - an internet shutdown and radio jamming being deployed to prevent SCP from telling Ogun's Hammer about their true intentions.  

Ogun's Hammer PMC:

A mercenary company helmed and founded by the mech-pilot Oyin Afonja (Superhero C), hired by the civilian government of Santo Círian as security shortly before the attacks as insurance. They fended off the initial alien assault, stood by and did nothing when the coup was launched, and tolerated the orders of the new government to avoid pursuing the invaders and hold the line at the sewage treatment plant. But professionalism only goes so far - they might be happy as long as the junta keeps paying their retainer, but the lack of any action to root out the threat, and the total shutdown of the airwaves and closing of all outside communication is beginning to make them grow suspicious. Their force consist of Afonja himself, his business partner Abdiweli Mohammad (Superhero A), and one infantry company. 

SCP (Santo Círian Petroleum):

SCP was established with soviet aid as Santo Círian's state-run oil company, the chief source of national revenue for most of its existence. After the fall of the socialist regime, the company was privatized, but drilling ceased entirely as the countries ultra-heavy reserves proved uneconomic to extract at the lower oil prices that followed and the company went bankrupt. It was only far more recently that the new energy boom lead to the re-establishment of the corporation as a private entity, which was promptly acquired as a subsidiary by Marduk International. As the director of SCP, Leo Singh, was on the oil rig when the coup occurred, the junta was unable to seize control of the corporation, and its continued refusal to recognize the legitimacy of the island government is backed up by the force of the two biomecha (Lab Rat B x2) guarding the platform. The two mecha, Castor and Pollux, are the only guards of the platform, but they're more than sufficient - they quite easily eliminated the initial invasion force and continue standing guard against both human and alien assault. 

Marduk International is, in reality, not merely a normal human multinational corporation, but a shell for the Lyran security apparatus. The felinoids who first seeded humanity - not only on Earth but also on Mars and Venus - do not much appreciate the meddling of other aliens with their experiment before it's had the opportunity to run it's course, and so have spread biomechanical technology to the humans in order to fight back the invaders. Leo Singh is, of course, a Lyran himself, and as an alien in human guise himself suspects the C-IDF of alien infiltration, though as of yet has no actual evidence..  still, their reluctance to accept nationalization is not just corporate interest by any means, rooted insteadd in deeper plans to maintain the energy supply of the human forces to prevent their extinction.

I- Forest

An area of forest and mountain left undeveloped, though more as a source of lumber than as nature preserve. Hiding beneath the tree-cover, and venturing forth periodically to assail the mercenaries in IV are two Invaders, two Lernaeans and one Fortean. Though ordinarily their raids end in tactical retreats, if pursued here the aliens will not hesitate to fight to the brink of death  - only as their companions actually start falling while they flee, and when they do it will be running not towards the camp in tile IV (obviously) or their mother in tile II but the city in tile III, that the fight might cause more collateral damage.   

II- Crash Site

A small area of undeveloped forest, held close to the rim of the small mountain range of the northern half of the isle. Below the slopes lies an impact crater, 50' across and about as deep, the center of which is occupied by a 30' by 15' cylindrical capsule made of some strange alien metal. The outer walls of the alien pill are impenetrable against anything short of a nuclear shaped charge, but the queen-factory inside is totally blind and deaf as a consequence. It opens at a pre-set schedule every night at 12:30 AM, unsealing from the inside, pushing out the domed cap of it's front section on blood-slicked pistons, and waiting for exactly that time is the Pythian ravaging VII, dragging with it load of stolen agricultural machinery to feed to its mother. At the moment, one final batch of Invaders is being gestation-printed for the shortly upcoming assault on the rig, three amphibious Charbydians - at the landing of the players, two days remaining before they're ready for release and the invasion commences. Should the vulnerable queen be destroyed inside her shell, of course, no such release will ever be forthcoming, but if an attack commences every Invader on the island will rush to protect their mother (including Campstock).

III- City

The center of the island, Santo Círian city, the capital of and only settlement on the entire island nation. The C-IDF have imposed martial law - checkpoints around the city, 5pm curfew, total internet and radio blackout, ban on all communication - and brutally enforce their rigid measures. Stationed in the city are 1/3 of the C-IDF's infantry companies, 2/3 of it's tanks, and General Campstock himself, and his mech - angular, rugged, and currently equipped with Ablative Plate. 

IV- Infrastructure and Camp

Both the sewage treatment camp, water tank, and power plant are all located just outside the city here. Ogun's Hammer is here guarding all that critical infrastructure, and suffers periodic lightning raids from the Invaders hiding in tile I, though all such raids have easily been rebuffed. Their camp contains Afonja and his clean, caped mech wielding a Sagittarius bow, Abdiweli and his clean, symmetrical mech wielding a Master Sword, and the one Infantry Company of Ogun's Hammer. 

V- Oil Rig

The oil rig, just offshore and still pumping just past the reach of the junta. Castor and Pollux (both identically gaunt and smooth, Castor with a Flamethrower and Pollux with an Autocannon) stand over the platform like gargoyles, as Leo Singh continues to direct the company from the bowels of the machine below. 

VI- Port

This is the port of the island, the only way anything can get to or off the island with the airways shut down. The C-IDF control it, and stationed there are 2/3 of its Companies and 1/3 of its Tanks, ready to move immediately against any assault. They still permit the landing of private vessels so that the island has some measure of supply, but nobody is allowed to step on or off the island without special permission from General Campstock himself. 

VII- Cane fields

The sugarcane fields, lying fallow since the invasion as the farmers are to afraid to harvest- rightly so, as a Pythian Invader stalks the fields at day, attacking anyone it sees and dragging off whatever abandoned machinery, first into underground piles and then to the maw of it's mother in tile II. 

BESTIARY: (all entries using mech damage + health0

Tank

An ordinary military tank, if considerably outdated, not only in the sense that mechs have made tanks obsolete but that this one doesn't even have reactive armor plating or anything. 

HP d2+1, AC 10, Cannon +1 to-hit, d6 damage (long)

Special: Can't be knocked Prone

Infantry Company

About a hundred guys with guns - an unstoppable threat dismounted, a complete joke inside a mech. 

HP d4+2, AC 8, Gun barrage +5-to-hit, d2 damage (long)

Special: Can't miss at close or melee range

Invader, Charbydian 

An amphibious invader that looks like someone crossed a lobster with a tarantula, then fused the resulting monstrosity with a, tunnel-boring machine, then spray-painted the entire thing vantablack.  

HD 4, AC 12, Masticator claw +3-to hit, d8 damage (melee)

Special: AC 18 in water, can tolerate seabed conditions without damage

Invader, Fortean

A tall bipod invader - like a disembodied pair of limbs, which instead of growing up to a torso terminates in a crown of iridescent fronds, at all times crackling with energy and whirling around, periodically flashing with light as the Invader tears through spacetime to appear somewhere it could simply have walked to. 

HD 2, AC 14, Meltblaster +3-to hit, d6 damage (close)

Special: Can, instead of attacking, teleport it and one other mech it's touching into Long range

Invader, Lernaean

A regenerating invader notable for it's unique composition - not hard organometallic alloys in an actuated exoskeleton, but a plastic soft-robot with a hydraulic endoskeleton, its internal fluids infused with nanotech machinery that heals damage to the invader in real time. 

HD 2, AC 10, Wormdrills +2-to hit, d6 damage (close)

Special: Regenerate d4 hp/turn, only dies if ends turn at negative hp after regenerating. 

Invader, Pythian

An invader evoking something like a metallic, terrestrial polychaete, a segmented worm with thousands of bristly claws for pushing itself through the ground - the chief difference being its organometallic composition, its vastly increased size, and the horrible grinding machine it has for a mouth. 

HD 3, AC 14, Drillmaw +3-to hit, d8 damage (melee)

Special: Can, instead of attacking in a turn, burrow, gaining AC 18 while underground and retaining full-speed. Can attack from below, but doing so automatically causes surfacing and necceditates another round of not attacking to slip back underground. 

The Udumbara of the Mountaintop - for Gretchling Arts of War (GloGmas 2025)

Two-thousand nine-hundred ninety-nine years , eleven months, and twenty-eight days ago, a single ray of aquamarine-light shone down from the pure land of the bhagavat healing medicine, falling from the heavens, piercing the clouds, and at last shining down on the bare rock of a mountain peak. Immediately, out from the rough limestone came a short, thin stalk and two pale leaves, sprouting in the starlight. This was the shoot of the Udumbara, the fig-flower which blooms once in three millennium, a hundredth of a thousandth as rare as the final birth of an honored one.

A tree that takes a thousand years to bud must first live a thousand years, and to live a thousand years means it must survive a thousand years in which to die. It was thus necessary that the first drop of morning dew on the seed-leaf of the new shoot, fertilized by the rising sun and penetrating the pockmarked limestone onto which it dripped, rose out of the ground as black-horned Javabhapali, the udumbara's yaksha protector.

For the first one-thousand nine-hundred ninety-nine years, eleven months, and twenty-eight days, the yaksha of the mountain haunted the mountain as a terrible demon, devouring man, woman, child, and beast alike. The mount was rendered bare, scourged of all life by its fearsome protector. Even as the other mountains clustered around it were sliced into rice-terrace, as the forest beneath was chopped down and a village grew in the mountain's' shadow, none dared climb the mountain itself, in full knowledge that should they undertake the trip, they would never return.

Such was the case until Zherong and Xirong were left on the mountaintop to die. Twin brothers, each barely a month old, left to die of exposure because their parents could no longer afford them. When Javabhapali discovered them, something strange stirred in his amber-veined heart. They were not devoured, but raised as the ogre's own sons, nursed on blood and honey, taught to uproot trees and wrestle tigers barehanded rather than how to read or write. When grown, they were just as much monsters as their adoptive father, only far more dangerous, for unlike him they were not confined to the mountain-peak and the udumbara tree.

For years, they terrorized the region as an unstoppable menace, more animal than bandit, who killed and stole and ruined everything and everyone they came across. They too, however, began, slowly, to mature, growing, after years of unrestrained violence, to begin to yearn for something else, even if they could not even recognize the feeling, let alone know what it was they desired. It was not long, however, before both of them found what they unknowingly sought in a chance encounter as their father before them. For Zherong, the peace he found was marital - a peasant woman equal to him in hardiness (and weight), with whom he sired a large family, building a home for them atop the mountain peak. For Xirong, it was spiritual - converted by a monk of the true dharma, and retreating to pray below the sacred fig, bringing with him a host of disciples inspired by the unfaltering strength of his soul. 

As decades passed, then centuries, the yaksha's adoptive family grew from brotherly duo to mighty clan. Around the tree sprouted huts, then houses, then walls - a fortress-town-monastery of stone and brick, with monks and householder side by side, each fighting with the power of the ogre who taught them. Even Javabhapali doesn't remember the cause, but unfortunately this state of peace was not to last. Some unknown dispute erupted into out-and-out civil war, damaging the tree in the process. Enraged, the yaks exiled the whole clan and sealed the gates of the fortress with two locks, each opened by one of two great keys and given to one of the two sides of the clan. The ogre swore to its children that no man should once more pass behind the walls and gaze on the udumbara until the rift in the clan ceased to exist, whether by reconciliation or eradication - only with both keys would the gate ever be unsealed.

Since the clan-war, a full millennium has come and gone, and the sides have been much shifted. Zherong's seed did not stray far from the mountain, descending to the foothills and rebuilding the village their founder had pillaged in his youth. Below the mountain now rests a small walled village, old and insular, where every last man traces their lineage back to the first of the ogre's sons. The legend of the old clan war is a distant memory, little thought of and heavily distorted. Perhaps most obviously, Zherong's spawn have forgotten that it was they who were the laymen and their brothers the monks, for the rulers of the town are the monastery raised slightly above them, warrior-monks who in their art preserve traces of the yaksha-style. The key, too, is written out of the story, long-gone - none remember that it is buried with Zherong's ashes, for in the village cemetery his gravestone is not marked with any honor save that of it's defacement. The tomb honored as that of the founder, ironically, is the one with no remains, for it was erected in-absentia in honor of Xirong - the monastic image is now celebrated by the monks who now rule.

Xirong and his followers went out in the world to preach the dharma to all who would hear, and to fight its enemies with all their might. Only the latter tradition survives at all. Of course, given their vows of celibacy, he left no blood-descendants, nor did the first of his disciples, but their disciples were not so strict. By the present day, the bearers of Xirong's lineage of the yaksha style, the inheritors of his sect and their treasures, are an ordinary martial family, career officers with centuries of service on the borderlands of the empire. Their key is still an heirloom - made into the hilt of a filigreed saber, currently carried on the person of the clan's heir presumptive.

This is the situation as it stands - in three days, the Udumbara will bloom, and its miraculous aroma will instantly regenerate any who take in the scent, healing every form of poison and plague, curing the blind and crippled, even regrowing lost limbs and giving further years of life to the elderly. This is widely known - already a thousand lepers, led by the crippled prophet Wei Yong, crowd beneath the hill, hoping to be touched by the healing air. If by that time the gates of the fortress have not opened, that number will be exactly zero, for the wind will not blow the pollen beyond the crumbling walls and it shall sit and moulder within for another three millennia, of no use to anyone. They know this, and would already be rushing to scale the walls were it not for the town that guards the only road up, and the unfriendly attitude taken by its monks to their visitors. Guarding the caravan is an attached group of soldiers, led by a young officer completely unaware that his warrior family is themselves heirs to the udumbara-fortress, or that the sword he carries is half the key to the inner sanctum, but following the pilgrimage in hopes that his own disease might be healed by the bloom.

  

At present, the soldiers are greatly displeased with the town, and less than trusting of Wei Yong's ministry, but their most pressing threat is neither.  Rather, their focus is on is fending off the bandits and highwaymen, which swarm the land like locusts and have already attacked this  pilgrimage several times, a specific band having tailed and repeatedly attacked throughout the entire journey. What the soldiers don't know is that the band in question is not ordinary group of thieves, but actually cover for the machinations of the eight-isles - this "band", though indeed mostly local ruffians, is led by Li-ben Len, an agent of the Empire of the Eight Pillars ought to steal the udumbara in full blossom and transport it back to the islands of the west.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE:

Wei Yong

A crippled, blind, half-deaf beggar, widely hailed as an incarnation of boddhisattva Infinite Grace and leader of a thousand-man army of lepers. It was he who, a month ago, received the prophecy of the blooming of the udumbara, and spread the message of it and its healing powers across all the slums of the capital. Incapable of walking more than a few steps unassisted, his followers carry him in a palanquin like a noble - he has, of course, no combat capability at all, but he has genuine prophetic powers and more importantly the ear of every one of the thousand-odd pilgrims crowding around the mountains base. Noncombatant, and entirely helpless if you do kill him, but the result will be both the violent enmity of the entire leper-mob and enough negative karma to irrevocably doom yourself to thirty kalpa at the bottom of Avici hell. 

Yao Qing

24/24 HP, 3/3 MD

Guts 3 (Power + Guarded)/Guile 1/Glory 2 (Support) 

Basic attack: +1 to-hit, 1d8+1

Three Fingers Imprison Evil: +3 to-hit, 1d8+3, if hit target slowed until end of next turn, augment target is fully immobilized + target takes -[dice] to attacks and defense until end of next turn 

Earth-destroying Yaksha Kick: +3 to-hit, 1d10+3, can be used w/out Aug when would use basic attack, +[sum] damage, +[highest] to-hit on augment

Hell-prison stance: Whenever user attacks an enemy with impaired movement you can make a basic attack against that enemy 

Meristem cultivation: Once per long rest you can use a minor action to Recover and and regain +2d6 HP

    The most senior bhikku of the monastery of the base of the mountain, and through that the head of the village that supports it. A short, bald old man clad in the two-piece monastic robe and mantle, wrinkled skin clinging to  Unbeknownst to him and the rest of the community, he, as well as everyone else in the village, are direct descendants of Zherong, who they currently castigate as schismatic, falsely believing themselves to have been the followers of Xirong, having rewritten their history after adopting the same dharma that their true father cast out. As the head of the monastery, he is a - or rather the - master of the Fierce Ogre Dharma style, at 4th level. There are three monks under him with the experience in the style necessary to fight, but they're all novices (0th-level). 

Qiang Li

16/16 HP, 2/2 MD

Guts 3 (Power + Guarded)/Guile 0/Glory 2 (Support) 

Basic attack: +1 to-hit, 1d8+1

One Finger Ensnares Evil: +3 to-hit, 1d8+3, if hit target slowed until end of next turn, augment can use technique as minor action but only once per turn 

Earth-shaking Yaksha Kick: +3 to-hit, 1d10+3, can be used w/out Aug when would use basic attack,  +[sum] damage and targets each creature within [dice]x5' of user on augment

Chains of King Yama stance: Whenever you attack an enemy with impaired movement each of the users allies gets +2 to hit that enemy until the start of their next turn and user ignores the first 2 damage they''d take before the start of their next turn

Xirong's heir, by tradition though not blood, and the commander of the force of 50 soldiers (2 hp, +1 to-hit 1d4+1 damage) sent to guard the pilgrims. Dressed in full military garb and head filled with every rule and regulation of the civil code as well as all the required classics and gentlemanly pursuits, the product of a childhood in a family of career military bureaucrats. Afflicted by an incurable cancer, he used every bit of his influence to get permission to follow the pilgrimage, even with his official mission merely being to prevent it from causing disorder. Has no idea that the key-hilt of the heirloom sword he carries with him at all time unlocks the very hill he's been sent to guard, nor that the self-defense training their family drilled into them was the product of the ogre at its peak. 

Li-Ben Len

18/18 HP, 3/3 MD

Guts 0/Guile 4(Power+Guarded)/Glory 2 (Support) 

Basic attack: +4 to-hit, 1d6+4 damage, all techniques can be used up to 25' range 

Explosive flame release: +4 to-hit, 1d6+4 damage , technique targets each creature within 5' of any location in range, can slide each creature it hits 5', on augment deals +[sum] extra damage and gets +[highest] to-hit

Incineration Glare: +4 to-hit, 1d8+4 damage, on augment can be used as minor action but only once per turn

Finger of Light: +4 to-hit, 1d8+4 damage, on augment blinds target on hit til start of next turn

Rising Sun stance: If user would be reduced to 0 or fewer hit points, immediately set to 0 hit points and then recovers, also can fly but must end turn on solid ground

Parhelion step: Once per short rest, user can take half damage from an attack, then teleport up to 4x10' away. 

A foreigner, user of the Sun Fingers style, born and raised in the empire of the eight isles, but one with long experience as a pirate assaulting towns on the coast of the empire under heaven. When the isles agents heard the rumors of the udumbara, it was him who was hired to steal it away and bring its healing aroma to the court of the eight-corded emperor, currently wasting away from syphilis. To that end, he has rallied a force of 50 local bandits (1 hp, +0-to-hit, 1d4 damage), who've been trailing and continuously assaulting the pilgrimage ever since it wound it's way out of the capital. Even now, the bandits are camped nearly in view of the pilgrims they've been following, only bothering to disguise their camp in the mountains to avoid having to fight with the soldiers sent to guard them from their predations - their spies within the former group constantly reporting back to them of the news of the proceedings, the bandits preparing to strike the moment the gates are thrown open and the opportunity presents itself. Li-Ben himself carries with him a single magical item - the chest of delayed impermanence, a lacquered icebox in which he intends to shove the severed bloom of the udumbara for transport as soon as he acquires i. 

 Javabhapali

28/28 HP, 3/3 MD

Guts 4 (Power + Guarded)/Guile 0/Glory 2 (Support) 

Basic attack: +1 to-hit, 1d8+1 damage

Two Fingers Capture Evil: +4 to-hit, 1d8+4, if hit target slowed until end of next turn, on augment targets each creature within [dice]x15' in one direction 

Yaksha Kick: +4 to-hit, 1d10+4, can be used w/out Aug when would use basic attack, on augment deals +[sum] damage and targets each creature within [dice]x5' of user 

Naraka stance: Whenever user attacks an enemy with impaired movement, they a +1 (stacking) bonus to all future attack rolls in that combat

Invulnerable Ogre soul: Once per long rest you can use a minor action to get 1d6+2 temporary hit points,

The black-horned ogre who guards the top of the mountain, still yearning for his children to return and refusing to open the gates til they do.

KEY:

1. Leper camp 

A mess of hasty tents and improvised shelter, cobbled together by the thousand-odd desperate diseased waiting for the udumbara to cure their ailments, at the center of the camp the shrine tent of the prophet Wei Yong. Slightly behind them is the vastly more organized camp of the fifty soldiers sent to supervise the mob, and Qiang Li, their commander. 

2. Village

A small village of around a hundred peasants, rice-farmers living in thatched-roof huts with a stone wall. At the center of town is a small brick temple, the town's only landmark, inside of which resides Yao Qing and his four disciples. 

3. Cemetery

The gravestones of countless generations of villagers are placed slightly above the homes of their descendants. Most of the graveyard is just simple cenotaphs - at the peak of the cemetery, though, are two stone statues, one for each brother. Xirong's grave is exalted, piled wth flowers and fruit as the supposed village founder, while Zherong's grave is defiled, his statue chipped, cracked, and covered in filth as heretic schismatic. It is under Zherong's feet, however, that the other key is to be found. 

4.  Old fortress 

An ancient fort, all paint long since washed off the stone but otherwise miraculously preserved, the bricks held in place by the roots of the udumbara. The only entrance is through its great iron doors, 12' tall and 6' wide, sealed by a demon-head with a split mouth, inside of which two keyholes can be seen on close inspection. By its side is inscribed a sort poem. 

Two brothers, family, torn apart,

Two keys, to mend a broken heart,

Until the rift between them heals

On this door remains a seal

Attempting to break through or climb over the fortress before the doors are opened results in great spikes of rusted iron erupting from the wall (+4 to-hit, 1d8+4 damage, repeated at start of targets next round until they die or flee the fort). When opened, the gate leads directly to the courtyard of the fort, wherein lies the trunk of the udumbara and the branch at whose end lies tumescent the flower-bud, as does, Javabhapali, watching and waiting.

TIMELINE

If the party doesn't intervene, the expected course of events is this:

Day 1:

Wei Yong and his army of pilgrims, camped at the foot of the mountain, petition to be let past the village and up to the gates of the mountain shrine. The villagers resolutely refuse to let the lepers pass through the gates at the base of the wall, fearing infection, despite the pleas of the pilgrims and the threats of the soldiers. 

Li-Ben Len sends a few bandits to attack in the middle of the night, whipping the lepers into a frenzy, and they force their way past the wall trying to escape - the attack by the monk, intended to drive them back down, merely splits them in half, part of the mob, Wei Yong included, remaining at the base of the hill while another part breaks past and run to the gates of the hilltop temple, a few of Li-Ben Len's soldiers sent with them to guard their flank.

Day 2. 

The soldiers, having found the gates of the temple locked, and read the poem on the gates, send down a messenger to talk to Qiang Li, who in turn consults Wei Yong. The prophet delivers the following prophecy:

The brother of abundant seed,

beneath his feet there lies his key, 

the brother of the dharma true,

his treasure already lies with you

Wei Yong, interrogating villagers taken captive in the preceding nights clash, learns the (distorted) story of the two brothers and begins searching for the keys - ordering, simultaneously, the search of his own encampment and that of the lepers for the key he's supposed to already possess, while readying a mission to raid the cemetery and rob the statue of Zherong. When night falls, he leads the charge to the cemetery - easily breaching the gate and robbing the grave, but upon extracting the key he and his party are set upon by Yao Qing and his disciples, both leaders perishing in the fighting. The soldiers and disciples both scatter.

Day 3. 

News of the midnight duel make their way down to the camp, who surge up the mountain and loot the corpses, finding both keys. As the gates swing open, and the crowd begins to surge inside, a man leaps from the crowd and plucks the flower off the tree right before it opens. As Javabhapali rises to confront the thief, he is pelted with a rain of boiling blood and carbonized flesh, then blinded by a beam of burning light piercing through the crowd. As the lepers scatter from the slaughter, Li-Ben Lin slips away, the blossom imprisoned in the lacquer-chest, its medicine snatched away from the mountains to be delivered to the emperor across the sea. 

EVEN REALER JUJUTSU (GLOG Class: Sorcerer)

As the strongest curse, Jogoat, fought the fraud "the King of Curses," he began to open his domain. Sukuna shrugged back in fear, then Jogoat said "Stand proud Sukuna, you are strong".

Starting Skill: 1) Frauding, 2) Asspulling, 3) Glazing

Starting Items: Deed to an aura farm (desolate, bankrupt)

+1 CD per template

A) Jujutsu, Innate Technique, +1 to-Hit

B) Curse Refinement, +1 HP

C) Curse Refinement, +1 to-Hit

D) Curse Refinement, Domain Expansion

Jujutsu.

    You're a a member of that genetically gifted class of superhuman known as "Jujutsu Sorcerers". What that means in practical terms is that you can see curses and generate substantial amounts of Cursed Energy, represented by CD's - Cursed Die. 

 As long as you have at least one CD, you can reinforce your body with cursed energy, which in practical terms means you have unarmored AC-as-chain and your fists count as magical medium weapons. You can reinforce melee weapons with cursed energy as well, making them deal +[templates] damage and count as magical, but ordinary ones struggle to handle the strain (shattering on crits and fumbles). 

 Also you can make binding vows, either to yourself (permanently placing some restriction on your future actions in exchange for a temporary power boost or just changing the way your Innate Technique works arbitrarily) or to others (making a verbal contract that guarantees intense karmic backlash if one party backs out).  

Also you have the potential to learn non-innate techniques (raising barriers, making talismans using anti-domain arts, making simple shikigami, learning new shadow style, etc) but you have to find someone to teach you that.

Innate Technique. 

    Roll on the spell list of any non-terrible GLOG wizard school or use that Skerple's d100 table, whatever you get is your one, singular, unchangeable innate technique, no rerolls if it sucks you're stuck with it. You can cast it like normal but you don't trigger mishaps or dooms and your CD's only deplete on 5's and 6's because you're cool like that.  

Curse Refinement.

  At every [template] past A, you get a Curse Refinement.  Each time, choose one of the following. 

1. Extension. "Extend" your cursed technique, basically giving you some special move that uses your Cursed Technique a different way - turning your blood-beam into a net instead, for instance (still expending CD like normal). You can take this more than once, unlike every other option. 
2. Maximum (Lapse). Unlock the ultimate application of your Cursed Technique - a more powerful spell, but one which doesn't return CD on casting. If the wizard school you're using has one or more Legendary/Rare/Emblem spells, any of which align with the spell you rolled, this is that - otherwise make one up yourself.
3. Reverse Cursed Technique. You can spend CD to heal yourself, either regaining [sum] HP immediately or 2 HP a round for the next [sum] rounds. CD used for this purpose deplete immediately. This can regrow limbs but does nothing to poison or disease  
4. Maximum (Reversal). Functions exactly the same as Maximum (Lapse), except instead of using the ultimate potential of your Cursed Technique you're using the ultimate potential of the reversal of your Cursed Technique. Figure it out lol.    

Domain Expansion. 

    Literally just use semi's rules they seem good enough and I'm not copying over the entire thing here.

Δ - Black Flash.

Hit a Black Flash. Before you have this delta, that requires rolling a regular critical hit and then flipping a coin and getting heads.

You permanently gain one extra CD. Also, every time you land a critical hit, it becomes a Black Flash, dealing double damage and replenishing a spent CD. The next attack you make has it's crit range expanded by 1, stacking for each consecutive Black Flash you land (so if you crit on a 20 and land a black flash, your next attack crits on a 19-20, and after that 18-20 and so on and so forth). 

4. Post with no text, just images

Kwangchow, Illinois

Originally this was going to be a recycling of old material used to prep for an old, failed, campaign (because, in lieu of a proper hook, the players spent the entire thing cuckolding, murdering and trying to hide the corpse of a random bartender), hastily half-converted to sboob because of that one Archon’s Court post..

Then I ended up putting way too much effort into it all and there’s like, 0% old material surviving here now, it’s like, almost entirely new. Note that this assumes a fairly different mode of superheroic existence than the cyberpunk hellscapes of Bayport or I-Re… this is because it’s in the middle of the rust belt and the corporations have largely left this place to rot, so the main supermen-employing organizations are street gangs rather than megacorps or technofascist paramilitaries. Adjust your mission tables to match or whatever - you’re hitting licks, not taking jobs.  

    Still haven't figured out how blogspot formatting works, sorry for the wonky text spacing and stuff

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Kwangchow is dying. That is to say, Kwangchow - not Guangzhou, China, Kwangchow, Illinois. Kwangchow IL is in every respect dramatically inferior to its namesake, a small city of sixty-six thousand souls and a perfect model of the rust belt in microcosm. It’s a city that’s been in decline since the 60’s - June 6th, 1966, to be exact, the day Marx Steelworks finally shut its doors. You won’t find anyone in town that doesn’t have the exact calendar date drilled into their skull deeper than the day of their own birth, from the tweaker dying on the street corner to the gilded office of Mayor Ding-Marx herself. 

What if Brockton bay was Gary, Indiana

Founded in 1902 by Friedrich Wolfgang Marx of Marx Steel Industries, Kwangchow, like a few other american cities, took its name from its supposed geographical antipode. A former model company town, it lived and died inseparable from the industry that supported it, in many ways a model of the rust belt as a whole. Marx was an interesting figure - chiefly in the fact that he never sold, never merged, and never, ever, unionized. The city’s unique makeup is a testament to his legacy of racial tolerance - whites are still the majority, at around 55% of the population, and african-americans make up most of the rest, but there's also large hispanic and asian minority groups. The latter category is, unusually, composed mostly of hui and uyghur chinese- who first came as muslim warlord Ma Ding and his soldiers, personally invited to Kwangchow by Marx after their defeat by the KMT, whose collection of oriental artworks was been built up chiefly through purchase of Ding’s looted artifacts. The community has since been reinforced over the years by successive waves of muslim chinese migrants, the Uyghur community in particular migrating in large enough numbers to justify a rare piece of federal support (in the form of over a million dollars in grants to establish a local branch of the East Turkestan Government in Exile). 

The steelworks still lies rotting, picked over by crows, raccoons, and bored teenagers. The rest of town fares little better, crumbling  houses with overgrown yards and peeling paint. Economically, the only options left for those without pensions or social security to live off are to fight over the few jobs left in government and the service industries, commute two hours to Chicago, or turn to crime. Pump gas and flip burgers for senior citizens, teach timetables to the offspring of anyone still stupid enough to have kids in Kwanchow, or start stealing copper wire and dealing meth - the 2nd option is substantially less soul-crushing. It’s no wonder, then, that Kwanchow has an absurdly exaggerated Supervillain per Capita ratio - which means, of course, that there’s no shortage of opportunities for cape-work, for any enterprising super who walks into town. Someone, perhaps, much like yourself? 

Places of Interest

Marx Steelworks - The factory-complex that birthed the town and served as its beating heart until it was finally shut down in the 60’s, when the bottom fell out of the steel industry - the Marx family saved from bankruptcy by a diversified portfolio, the workforce not so much. Deserted, fenced off, and the frequent target of urban explorers - every square inch covered in graffiti, periodic sweeps by the city police force evicting homeless squatters.

Absalom K-12 Academy - The integrated charter school that serves as the only public institution in the city for primary and secondary education, with a history rooted, unsurprisingly, in the privately-operated schools Marx had built when he first set up the company town. Notable for having had at least one bomb or shooting threat a year every year since 2002, and for the shoestring budget it’s operating on after payouts of several million dollars in child abuse settlements in a continuous string of scandals involving multiple different teachers and administrators (but mostly campus security). 

Wolfgang-Marx Museum of the Orient - Inside the red-brick walls of a romanesque villa lie the only reason anyone would ever willing visit Kwangchow… an actually really good collection of chinese and central asian art, every single part of which was purchased illegally and which the Chinese government has demanded the repatriation of on an annual basis since 1949. Technically held in trust, the museum and everything else it manages are still entirely controlled by the Marx family, and the entire museum is not infrequently closed to the public for special events. The stuff on display is only ever a fraction of the full collection, the vaults below holding many pieces individually worth millions and the entire sum of the collection worth who knows how much more… museum security is tight, but far from impenetrable, and several ambitious heists have been foiled only seconds from completion. 

Mosques - There are three different mosques in Kwangchow, the Islamic Center of Kwangchow, the Kwangchow Holy Mosque, and the WD Fard Moorish Temple. The Islamic Center is the older institution, founded by the hui community, the Mosque the second oldest, originally a Nation of Islam institution which was converted to mainstream sunni islam under Wallace Muhammad’s leadership and entered into communion with the existing hui community. The Moorish temple is the smallest but most militant of the temples, founded by those who rejected joining the islamic mainstream and entering into co-religionist relations with the Hui - fiercely independent, they’ve additionally refused to align themselves with Farrakhan’s revived church, and have largely degenerated into a criminal cult. 

 Other- Walmart super center #2,389, East Turkestan Government in Exile branch office, Kwangchow Municipal Hospital (exceedingly high complication rates), Kwangchow City Hall, Kwangchow public library,  Kwangchow Jail, the headquarters of the Kwangchow Sun (only newspaper), Kwangchow Municipal Airport (incredibly tiny), Kwangchow savings bank, DMV of Kwangchow, Elysian Garden Residential Apartments (referred to by the locals the Lil’ O, as in O-block) 

 Read blood syndicate plz

Factions

Volunteers (AKA: The United Volunteers for the Defense of Public Order and the Muslim Faith)

Kwangchow’s premier superhero group, vigilante peacekeepers who claim strict adherence to sunni islam and a purely charitable status, being, according to themselves, entirely funded by donations from “the community”. They are technically funded by donations, in the legal sense, being a registered charity, but the greater part of their funding comes from local business and wealthy elites , rather than ordinary citizens.. on account of the Volunteer response time being weighted substantially in favor of their sponsors. Allegations of Volunteer-legbreaking for the Ding-Marx family have been proven unfounded by multiple winning libel suits. 

Symbols - Their emblem (literally just their full title in “oriental” font), Green and white spandex uniforms 

Henchmen - Most of their official member-roll consists of local citizens who donate and report criminal activity.. there’s a few unpowered employees who run the call center, manage finances, keep the headquarters in order and such, but only the supperhumans handle the actual crimefighting (and only they get paid full salaries) 

Leader - Golden Horde, 2Σ (Martial I [+WIS, CHA], Shift II [Brawn I, Durable I, Zap])

Transforms into a 6’8 proto-turkic steppe warrior-demigod whenever in contact with a equine, gaining superhuman strength, durability, and a bottomless quiver of shining golden arrows which explode like anti-tank grenades on impact. Fancy high-tech compound bow that requires super-strength to draw back fully, 3 pedigree warhorses imported from turkmenistan at great expense, samurai horse-archery trick riding bullshit that lets him shoot people accurately while hanging upside-down and sideways with one foot on the saddle.   

In his “true form” a 4’10 uyghur woman in her early sixties, Turan doesn’t really have a costume on account of every moment he spends crimefighting being in his war-shape, the bulletproof, bronze-skinned black-maned giant with washboard abs and rippling biceps and such. Is the formal leader of the volunteers, and a strong personality both as cape and civilian, though with a charisma that expresses itself quite differently between the warrior-king and the elderly chinese woman who founded and ran the team behind the scenes before awakening her superpowers. Though intelligent, is somewhat handicapped by a combination of vanity, greed, and a loose grasp of the english language (though fully fluent in mandarin and uyghur). 

Volunteer superhumans

Ottoman, 1Σ (Durable I, Brawn I) Like 7ft tall, strong enough to tear off limbs with bare hands also physically impossible endurance.. will keep fighting with both legs broken, intestines on the sidewalk, and heart utterly vaporized by laser-gun

Safavid, 1Σ (Ace I, Durable I) Totally fireproof, asbestos skin, can make anything he touches extremely flammable.. making concrete and glass burst into flames like they’re cotton balls soaked in rubbing alcohol 

Mughal, 1Σ (Create II) Can produce enormous quantities of shaped biodegradable sandstone on the fly, enough to raise small minarets and onion-domes in seconds - useful for putting up barriers, getting places by quick-bridging, encasing people in stone

Timurid, 1Σ (Percieve I, Zap I) Well-developed pineal eye which can see in infrared and also fire invisible death-rays 

Crossburners (AKA: The Kwangchow Crossburners, The Invincible Insane Cross-burning Nation)

A violent, all-white criminal syndicate with a few superhuman members, exactly as racist as the name suggests. Single largest group in the city, though outnumbered by the many smaller outfits.  Still, hands in a lot of different pies - they deal a lot of drugs, do a lot of ordinary burglary and armed robbery and stuff, but they’ve got a few more complicated rackets they inherited when they absorbed the remnants of the Kwantung mob. They’ve already fucked up most of them, though, on account of most of the new generation have had their capacity for delayed-gratification totally fried by methamphetamine abuse. 

Symbols - A burning cross, the confederate flag, the colors white and red
Henchmen - Stereotypical white trash, men and women, with rotting teeth and a fondness for white wifebeaters, red plaid, and shotguns
Leader - China White, 1Σ (Zap II [Fly I])
Telekinetic control over any and all porcelain objects within 15 feet, with a lifting capacity near half a ton. “Flies” by telekinetically lifting his several-hundred pound suit of ceramic armor, floats a couple of old, dirty toilets behind him to throw at people - more damaging if he has time to spin them up to speed before he lets go.
He rarely lets himself be seen outside the armor, but when he does he’s just an extremely fat, extremely pale white guy in his late 40’s… lack of fitness and excessive paleness both caused by spending most of the day levitating around inside rather than like, walking normally, with some amount of bare skin showing. Not the brightest guy, though he is the leader - he’s arrogant as hell, but not actually that smart, mostly just ruling through fear and brute force. 
Crossburner superhumans
Black Tar, 1Σ (Martial I [+DEX, STR], Ace I) , Combustion (gunfire included) fails in 30-ft radius, attempts jam machinery with black slime, fast as a racehorse, dual-wields machetes

Go-fast, 1Σ (Weird I, Martial I [+DEX, Con]) Daily “resets” to exact location, physical, mental, state, where he last had sex.. fearless, immune to pain, runs around nude with sawn-off shotguns 
Bolivian March, 1Σ (Ace I, Create I) Can turn human corpses into clones of himself and his stuff (dissolves into corpse-dust when killed again), who walk in lockstep and repeat all his actions exactly…  uses literal 19th century rifle-and-bayonet tactics 

Moorish Native Mujahideen (AKA: The Moorish Native Mujhadeen, The Almighty Moorish Nation) - 

A criminal syndicate from the south side of Chicago, the windy city’s largest and most powerful. They credit their success to the practice of a heterodox form of afrocentrist “islam” that appropriates doctrines from a bunch of other groups, but in practice it functions more as recruiting tool than actual moral code. They’ve tried taking over Kwangchow twice before, both times failing miserably. They’ve got a new guy trying it, though, a smarter guy.. under Poprock, they’ve been moving slower, more cautiously - still distrusted, but they’re making inroads, getting to know the city, recruiting locally.. at the moment, nobody thinks them a big enough threat to throw everything at, and by the time they change their mind, it’ll be far too late to matter. 

Symbols - the letters MNM, scimitar and star, ankh and skull, stylized candy, rainbow-patterned clothing

Henchmen - Mostly older black guys with rainbow-bandanas and glocks, almost all imported from chicago.. very few local recruits atm

Leader -  Poprock, 2Σ (Martial I, [+WIS, DEX] Ace I [Fly], Durable II)

Can reverse gravity for himself and anything he’s carrying, falling upwards into the heavens until he decides to stop. Ultra-tough, flexible flesh stops most bullets and makes him nearly immune to blunt force trauma, which he takes advantage of to let him get places quickly by just anti-gravving high up and then crashing to the ground wherever he needs to be. Proficient in dual-wielded uzis. 

The leader of MNM’s expeditionary group, an older, but still lithe and agile black guy who’s been with the syndicate since its foundation. Sunglasses, fancy suit and shiesty, the latter two bleached-white and covered in swirling patterns of colorful rhinestone. He’s a seasoned criminal, and he didn’t get that way through being an idiot.. he favors a methodical, reserved, and cautious approach to criminal enterprise, or at least as cautious as one can be in a business like this. Really, there’s something in his calm, professional ruthlessness quite a bit more frightening than the in-your-face hostility of the stereotypical bloodthirsty lunatic.  

MNM superhumans

Pixie-stick, 1Σ (Zap I, Durable I) Superheated plasma instead of blood, erupts as jet from any cut or breach and annihilates anything nearby.. Paper-thin skin, easily torn, but heals ultra-fast to close wounds, doesn’t help with internal injury though.. rapper of exceptional talent, only still robbing guys for the love of the game

Jolly Rancher, 1Σ (Create I, Martial I [+CON, CHA]) A cow-whisperer of exceptional skill.. can painfully vomit up a live, full-sized texas longhorn in about a minute, usually has a decent sized-herd built up to stampede 

Airhead, 1Σ (Think I, Shift I) Instinctive knowledge of in-situ production of chemical weaponry, which she’s immune to because of the gas mask fused to her face  

Read Marshal Law but not this far

Immortal Soul (AKA: The Immortal Soul Disciples) 

The second-greatest of Kwangchow’s supervillain groups, with a body of unpowered members on par with the crossburners and certainly exceeding MNM’s current presence - relegated to a secondary role by their lower number of superhumans, largely due to higher turnover rate. Mostly african-american, but a small latino minority - their relative inclusiveness being one of the things differentiating them from their archenemies the Black Mambas, with whom they’re constantly engaged in low-level territory war. 

Symbols - Heart with halo and wings, the colors white and blue 

True Immortal, 2Σ (Shift III, Martial 1 [+INT, CHA])

Whenever he takes an actually substantial amount of damage, True Immortal transforms into a 12-ton mass of spiny red tentacles, strong enough to pull down concrete walls, fast enough to outrace most cars, and just about immune to anything short of high explosives. In this state, he is totally uncontrollable and fully non-sentient, and will attempt to kill and eat everything in sight. 

The leader of Immortal Soul, a black guy in his late 50’s who goes about in diamond-studded chain and balenciaga, no costume other than raw wealth. His abilities are widely known, and he’ll try tactics like holding his enemies hostage by holding a gun to his own chest - generally not in his best interests to actually transform, due to the inevitable damage to his own side, but when push comes to shove he won’t hesitate to pull the trigger. 

Baroque, 1Σ (Zap I, Shift I) 

Constantly and involuntarily emits a blindingly bright light from her eyes, strong as a football-field floodlights when not blocked by her sunglasses.. with concentration, can focus into a single coherent beam powerful enough to flash-carbonize flesh at a range of several hundred feet. 

Black woman who goes about in a hoodie, a black balaclava, and extremely thick flip-up-sunglasses (to protect everyone else ).. In her early 30’s, is actually True Immortal’s niece, has been trying to work up the courage to run away and go “hero” for ages now. 

Coraźon, 1Σ (Shift I, Brawn I)

Ordinary super-strength allows him to go around cavorting around in extremely heavy metal armor without collapsing. Can dial up super-strength to substantially higher-levels, but starts sweating like a waterfall -  has to throw back a bottle of gatorade every 6 seconds to avoid dying of dehydration while in super-state, more afterwards.

Immortal Soul’s remaining superhuman, a mexican dude whose recruitment was the reason Immortal Soul started letting latinos join at all - True Immortal thought he was too good to pass up, Cape muscle being relatively rare even in Kwangchow. 

Black Mambas  (AKA: The Almighty Mamba Nation) 

Kwangchow’s third-ranking super-gang, Immortal Soul’s greatest rivals.. have fewer unpowered members and a smaller territory, but just as many capes, and a slightly better rep among the younger generation. For the most part the two gangs are bitter rivals, fighting constantly over territory and blood-debts and things of that sort, but they’ve collaborated once before, in the semi-recent past.. joining hand-in-hand to foil MNM’s second attempt at taking over the city. This time, though, there has ben and will be no alliance - not unless someone convinces them otherwise.  

Symbols - A serpent with fangs bared, the colors black and red 

Grootslang, 1Σ (Shift II [Durable I, Fly I, Brawn I]) 

Can, at will, take on an obviously draconic form, gaining a coat of black scales that turns knives and slows bullets and a pair of membranous wings which let him fly like a really large eagle. Flapping of wings creates deafening thunderclaps, can sweep up dustclouds and blow away light wheeled vehicles and small animals.  

The leader of the black mambas, in his human shape a somewhat obese, heavily tattooed african-american male in his early 30’s, with a great deal of ambition but lacking the power or skill to match. Spends every night cursing the name of his younger brother, who he spent his childhood bullying for his interest in music, up until said brother attained actual success as a rapper and moved away to fame and fortune. Carries an M-16 with an underbarrel grenade-launcher.  

Lazy Eye, 1Σ (Durable I, Percieve I) Extremely obese black man, with enough padding to reflect most blunt objects and cushion from sudden impacts. Can rotate eyes independently, see though own flesh, including back of head, giving effective 360 degree vision - surprisingly good at shooting backwards. 

Antipatrick, 1Σ (Durable I, Create I) Immune to most poisons, can turn any water he looks at into a writhing mass of extremely aggressive venomous serpents which crawl as a living flood towards him until he reverts them to water. African-american, never been to europe, affects a faux-irish accent as part of the gimmick. 

Have I mentioned you should read Blood Syndicate

Fire and Ice

A smaller gang founded and led by twin sisters Pyroclastic and Cryoplastic, who have matching superpowers and luchado-styled costumes. It consists of them and a few henchmen, engaging mostly in low-level violent crime - smash-and-grabs, muggings, home invasions, corner-store stickups, etc. They’re both white (soundcloud rappers), but the gang itself is multiethnic on account of being a purely money-making operation. 

Symbols - A burning ice cube, the colors blue and red 

Pyroclastic, 1Σ (Zap I, Ace I) Can project blasts of flame from her hands, except her fire has the strange property of making whatever it heats more rigid, not less - everything solidifies, hardens, becomes inflexible, even ice. 

Cryoplastic, 1Σ (Zap I, Ace I) Can project blasts of liquid nitrogen from her hands, except her cold has the strange property of making whatever it freezes more plastic, as the name implies - water becomes more malleable as it freezes, somehow.