As part of the SF FOG Club I am running an open table troupe campaign playthrough of Ave Nox by Feral Indie Studios. Today was the first session so I am gonna try and document how this session goes. We only had two players this time but this is an open table game for people in San Francisco so if you are interested in this genuinely feel free to shoot me a message.

A fair deal of time was spent setting up expectations and walking through character creation

Characters and Players

Evan C players

  • Phyllis Weinberger the Farmer

  • Zoltan the Farmer

  • Spirio the Confidence Artist

  • Murray Lavalamp the Hobbit Bookbinder

Becca V Played

  • Snake the Hobbit Snake Handler (Wurt’s Husband)

  • Wurt the Hobbit Carpenter (Snake’s Wife)

  • Clarissa the Locksmith

  • Zenobia the Farmer

A group of eight travellers had found their way to the Ghost-fields. Rumored swirled around the land of the ancient underground city only recently rediscovered, There eight traveled far and wide to get here, traveling through Shear and past the standing stones they found themselves in the chaparral bush where the rumors were abound.

At a distance there were two people standing at attention, seemingly guarding something. Phyliss took the charge hailing them down.

“You from the University?” The man in his late 30s asked

“Hell no we aren’t”

“Good, we were supposed to keep the University people out.”

“Why’s that?”

“They are always messing with things, disturbing the bodies, not doing things right”

“Those ivory tower egg heads never do anything right”

“Right there, you from Shear?”

“No, Cornhusk.”

“The elders sent you right?”

Snake butted in “Yeah the elders of Shear asked us to help out”

With a little bit more nicety the guards let the group down into the sandstone hole they had been guarding. Hobbits first they descended, deeper and deeper into the darkness of the earth. Soon no light reached them and Wurt lit her lantern as they found themselves deep below the surface in a room filled with wrecked stalls and a glass mosaic that dominated the southern wall.

Looking over the mosaic they were greeted by a depiction of a sun headed man lording over panicked people building buildings. On the lower reaches where one could see scratched onto the glass titled were insults and the word Tyrant over and over again.

Heading north past the stalled area the group found themselves in a great hall held up by massive pillars, in the darkness they could hear the rustling of fabric. Wurt called out to anyone there, and from the darkness came four forms, cloaked in ragged robes and furs and wielding crude stone sickles.

“Pr(a/e?)y” the voice of one rang out, voice hoarse and guttural.

In the split second all drew their makeshift weapons and began to back away.

Two sprinted towards Wurt the lanternbearer, but Phyliss and Zolton stood guard with their pitchforks. Phyliss pierces on in a single lunge as it went limp on the fork, while Zolton was not able to land a killing blow, it flailed on his fork managing to strike him with the sickle, he recoiled in pain.

The other two sprinted towards Snake, Zenobia again went in with her pitchfork managing to stick one it but not kill it. The other lunged wildly, with the sickle singing past the ear of the Snake.

Phyliss drove her pitchfork into the one stuck on Zolton’s fork, killing it. Soon the two farmers rushed in defence of Snake the hobbit, and with a charge slew both with all coming in with a flurry of blows the poorly clothed could not defend themselves from.

As they collected themselves and looked over the bodies they realized something, these things were not bleeding, clear ooze wept from the wounds, their teeth rodentine, their limbs long and sinewy with nasty claw like nails at the end, their flesh a patchwork of different shades.

Whatever they were, they were dangerous.