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In: Deadlands, Fallen Flags

Dear Diary, what am I doing here? In the name of pride, I find myself eating soot for breakfast, having failed a recovery even when I knew full well the target’s location. But it’s not simply shame in my heart. This place instills a sort of misery in you, a feeling of running in circles, just like every wagon wheel and damnably grinding gear in this creativity-prospector’s languishing silver mine. A cleverly hidden boot flask is enough to keep my walls standing, but the futility is crashing against them more like waves than enemy action, more like a force of nature than a strike to anticipate. The exhilaration of discovery, the prospect of making one’s fortune, I’m certain these distract, but in this town more than any other… It seems only a matter of time before it asks more of you than you can offer. And one way or another, there’s no escaping when your debt comes due.

-Recovered from a cognac-stained page in the diary of an unnamed debt collector, written mid-August, 1877
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In: Gobblin

GOBBLIN IS NOW LIVE ON DTRPG!  BUY MY BOOK!

This is the story of the goblins from one of the villages of Mudhole. There are many Mudholes out there, and this is one pretty interchangeable with the rest. One evening, there was a knock at their cabin door.  The goblins are charged with taking a “magic ring of great importance” that will save hundreds of goblin lives. This could be the opportunity to do what few goblins have done before: be useful and care about other goblins. Failing that, the local chief will have plenty of bribes and/or threats to throw at them to force them into saving the world.  Will they finish their quest?  Will they remember they have a quest to begin with?  Listen in and find out!

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In: Curse of Innistrahd, Dungeons and Dragons 5th Ed

Innistrad is not a place of life. It’s colors are deep and dismal, it’s people sturdy and sullen. But there are times of triumph. Singular times that stand out as proof that this doesn’t need to be the way things are. The world is not black and white. The harvest moon has begun to set. A new chapter is left for the outland valleys, a place even those from Stensia thought inhospitable. And for those brave enough to change the world; They find a need to change along with it.

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In: Deadlands, Fallen Flags

Agency Internal Dossier
TOP SECRET – US EYES ONLY
Verification Code 22-9-3-20-15-18
Subject: Dr. Manfred Stark, PhD (Biology from Oxford University)
Author: “Tom Bondsley”, Field Agent

A proper doctor, as I understand it. As proper as a graverobber can be. Allegedly, anyway. By proxy. I know it’s more or less standard practice these days, but it unsettles me either way. Regardless, this one is most famous these days for being an outspoken opponent of the smog and steam that covers Salt Lake City and associated land. He claims that it’s killing both the people and the game used to feed them. I’m not much of a scientist, but if he’s right, that’s obviously bad news. Maybe not worth putting a stop to the production in our own labs, but maybe worth a more in-depth cost-benefit analysis. That’s just my opinion, though. Most folks have been calling him a lunatic, but if he’s been rooting around in people’s bodies, maybe he has a more in-depth look. And maybe it’ll come down to either building a better factory, or building a better human to use them. I’m sure Hellstromme is working both angles anyway.

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In: Curse of Innistrahd, Dungeons and Dragons 5th Ed

Tatyana was dead.
Sergei was dead.
Maurer wasn’t sure what he was.
The deal was simple and perfect. A conception bathed in a sense of infamy, but answered by the urgency of nobility and want. The Markovs had been generous that day so long ago, lit by candles and surrounded by stone and blue blood. Edgar Markov was a smart man, a calculating man, one who spoke of need and duty. The blood of Stensia would live on he proclaimed loudly, his hands staining black crimson in the basin of prepared elixir. And they followed. One by one, marching to his new tomorrow. Toward an eternity beyond death. Even then Strephan Maurer was mad. Even then he was a fool.
And even now, he waits for an eternity, not fearing his coming hunters.
Death awaits.

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