Tuesday, February 2, 2021

CHOPWOOD OPERA: My Health and Damage Rules

I'm currently slicing up the half-formed body old game, which turned out far too ambitious for both my product-making skills and the amount of time I had. It was a big part of my learning process regarding game design, and went from a sickening, bloated union between Pathfinder and Darkest Dungeon to something like Into the Wyrd and Wild. Its name was The Cave In The Wood.

I worked on it for a few years, and at this point, I've made peace with the fact that it's unlikely to actually become a finished product. However, it has a lot of good bits that are worth salvaging and putting out into the world. That's why I'm going elbows-deep into its corpse with my butcher knife and repackaging some choice cuts from this dead cow into a menu for the people.

This is the first steak to come out of that effort. It's the health, damage, and combat ruling, which I'll now call CHOPWOOD OPERA rules. [♫]

Art by Gian Galang

Everything has PARTS. At least one, never more than six. At least one is lethal if it's destroyed. A human, like the player, has four parts: head, torso, arms, and legs. The head and torso are lethal when destroyed. The smaller something is, the fewer parts it should have.

A hit gives a part a WOUND, which cripples the part and gives you a drawback. On two wounds, the part is destroyed or severed. Anything with more than three total wounds dies from being ripped to pieces.

To fight, you have a FIGHT DIE. You start with a d4. When you improve your fighting power by whatever means, it goes one tier higher: becomes a d6. This goes on, up to d20. Enemies also have a Fight Die that ranges from a d4 (weak) to d20 (fuck you). 

Two combatants pick a target part and roll the Fight Dice against each other when they have at it. The HIGHEST ROLL gets to land a hit. With matching dice, both parties land their hit.

This means that the weakest fighter (d4) has a 7.5% chance to hit the strongest fighter (d20). 

MOVEMENT is abstracted, and therefore, so is RANGE for the most part. If you have a scenario where one of the two parties landing a hit on the other is absolutely impossible (sniper shooting man with shiv), replace "man with shiv landing a hit" with either an ally of the shiv man landing a hit, or the sniper getting a wound because of a fuckup or the shiv man's cunning shiv plan. Just make sure that if the sniper doesn't win against the shiv man, the sniper bleeds. When the fight die is rolled, someone gets hurt.

In BIG FIGHTS with lots of fighters, apply as follows: Everyone chooses a target, and all roll at the same time. Read out from highest Fight Die roll to lowest.

Art by Andrew Sebastian Kwan

ARMOUR is a chance out of 6 (roll a d6) per part to stop a wound, representing how well that part is protected. Adding more layers of armour ticks up that chance, but wearing 6 thick shirts over each other that give you 1 in 6 when worn alone does not give you 6 in 6. Every layer has to be distinct. However, doing the aforementioned you can upgrade your heavy shirt armour of 1 in 6 to many heavy shirts that gives +2 in 6, or give it a total of 3 hits instead of 2 that it can take.

Armour that stops an attack takes a hit. Weapons specify whether they do or don't hit armour that they bypass (things like chainsaws do, things like daggers don't). Better armour can take more hits before it breaks. No armour should have more than 4 hits it can take. Armour that has taken some hits can be repaired, armour with all of its hits exhausted is destroyed. 

Hits are tracked per armour piece, not part: gear that protects multiple parts takes a hit when it stops a wound on any of them. It does not take hits per part.


Titanium Bucket with Eye Holes: +4 in 6 for head (3 hits remain)
Homemade Kevlar Vest: +2 in 6 for torso (2 hits remains)
Cursed Cloak: +1 in 6 for torso, arms, legs (2 hits remain)

The definition of armour, and hits to armour, is not strict. A hit could mean the force that protects you tires out or otherwise becomes less able. Here are some more atypical pieces of armour:

Headshot-Eating Mask: +6 in 6 for head (1 hit remains)
Donny Catches the Hit: +4 in 6 for any body part (2 hits remains)
Dancing Sickness: +2 in 6 for legs (3 hits remain)
Conveniently Placed Wallet: +1 in 6 for torso (1 hit remains)

DEATH INSTINCT is a 2-in-6 piece of armour that protects all lethal parts (in the case of the player, the head and torso)Death Instinct activates only when all other armour fails and can take only one hit, but is restored when the holder survives a fight. 

Death Instinct is an OPTIONAL rule to slightly reduce lethality and incentivise attacking non-lethal limbs for a more cinematic fight.


Art by Takehiko Inoue, from Vagabond

Tuesday, January 26, 2021

Thawing Kingdom for Zinequest: Kickstarter!

"After all this cold...this age of ice and silence, finally..."

Finally, the Thawing Kingdom is back. And it's not just back as more blog content, it's back as a zine you can get! That is, if it manages to succeed as a kickstarter campaign for Zinequest 3!


In addition, a little update. I have a twitter now that you can follow for blog updates, updates on this kickstarter campaign, and possibly more: art and other RPG project may well come to this blog too!

What's In The Zine?

The zine mainly puts all of the existing Thawing Kingdom content into one nicely presented place, edited and polished. However, it also contains a bunch of new tables, of spells, items and more!

If you back the tier for it, you will also be able to get a Thawing Kingdom bosscrawl, which is a simple A5 sheet list of Dark Souls-style bosses to slay in this forlorn land in search of restoration and a new age: a little bonus, for a little extra.

So take your mantle thick, strap on your snowshoes! If you follow the project by getting notified at launch, that helps me estimate the backer number, and keeps you up to date! Show yourselves oh silhouettes in this cold mist!

Tuesday, January 19, 2021

GLOG class: The Sauna Demon

Another GLOG class, yes. I'm cleaning out drafts, alright. I swear, it's the last one. Man, these things are like biscuits.

Art by Rachel Suggs

Being a wizard is hard work. Especially when you have to be running around with this bunch of ruffians adventurers who think a bath is something you can either eat or kill, maybe both. Luckily you know better. In Wizard City, if there's one public matter that is taken very seriously, it is the sauna. Wizard brains are contstantly being whipped with live arcane electrical wires. They need to blow off steam (and residual Thaum) regularly.

It was brought along by that curious bunch (I know, rich coming from wizards) from up north, then some people from the east came and said they came up with them first, but not before some people from the south said it had always been theirs, and so on. The kind of sauna you go to is an important cultural statement in Wizard City. It all started with this wizard, oh what was his name, who plopped a whole sauna down in Cranberry Street so he could bathe, while passing through for only a day and shouting "Perkele!" a lot. He left the next day claiming Wizard City was a glorified man cave.

The Sauna Demon is not necessarily hideous or demonic in form, nor are they malicious. The name was chosen by wizards because these sauna-keepers are a bit witch-like in nature. They don't take wizards very seriously, and belly-laugh their way through the scholarly arcane traditions. This means, as far as wizards are concerned, that they're certainly not sauna wizards. Are they sauna witches, then? No! No no no, we can't have that, we can't have witches in Wizard City. So what are they?

Demons? Yes. Demons is good. That shows that we don't like them, but it's very serious business not liking them, since they're demons. Which we summon, by the way. To do our bidding. Take that, demons.

Most Sauna Demons have a plain human appearance, but they do tend to be a bit supernaturally shameless, hairy, and irreverent by demeanour. This class should definitely (not) be multiclassed with my GLOG wizard, the Radiomancer.

Art by Armand Serrano


Starting items: Pail and bath brush.

A: The Sauna, +1 Con, +2 Save, +1 HD, Nikolas
B: Winter Coat, +1 Con, +1 Wis, +1 HD
C: Blow Off Steam, Warm Welcome, +1 Cha, +1 HD
D: Spirit Form, +2 Wis, +1 HD

THE SAUNA: You can open any door and find a small sauna interior instead of what is normally behind it. It fits four people comfortably, and up to seven people uncomfortably. While you or anyone else is inside, the room stays connected to that door. The door can be locked from the inside, but it is a lock easily breakable with brute strength. You cannot take anything that belongs in the room outside of it: it disappears from your hand and reappears in its normal place. If the walls of the sauna are broken, thick steam blows everyone out and shuts the door, disappearing. You cannot summon the room again if this happens, until you get a magical sauna repair person to put it back in order.

NIKOLAS: Wherever it is you came from, you brought him with you. Or rather, he followed you behind the trees while you weren't looking. Nikolas appears when you roll a critical failure (natural 1 on d20), and he has a chance to show up in particularly cold areas as well. He will steal one of your templates (you can save to spot him and fend him off with your brush). You then have to chase him down to get it back. Nikolas is able to use the abilities of the template he has stolen. If Nikolas steals template A, which he himself is on, he'll forget who you are and it'll be easier to catch him. He stops appearing at critical failures until you have template A back. You can't level up while one of your templates is missing. If he appears again before you've gotten your template back, you suffer the following effect (like Wizard Dooms):
  1. When next you open any sauna or bathing room, Nikolas is there with a wood axe and wearing only a bath towel. He'll try to kill you.
  2. Nikolas is back. He wants blood. He appears, stronger than before, and comes to butcher you.
  3. Nikolas manages to get the drop on you while you're bathing and cuts your head off. You're dead. Nikolas is satisfied and disappears with a cold winter wind.
You can prevent Nikolas from appearing by leaving out an offering of Kossu or Vodka and roast sausages for Nikolas. The plate and bottle are emptied messily while you aren't looking. This protects you for 3 days. Any other meal and alcohol combination will protect you for 1 day.

WINTER COAT: You have a hefty, well-insulating layer of fat and cheery disregard for the winter gods. You take only half damage from frost attacks, and save twice against other cold-related effects, taking the better result. If you can already save to take half damage, you save to take no damage instead. Furthermore, you can turn this template into a warm coat and give it to someone else, temporarily losing it yourself. They must return it to you before sundown, otherwise the template is permanently transferred to them, and you lose this part of your power. If you have template D, you can regain this template by turning into a bear and eating the one who possesses it.

BLOW OFF STEAM: When you bathe or take a sauna, your mind is at ease. Remove negative mind-affecting effects from yourself. Others can retry their save. Additionally, if wizards or other people affected by non-permanent magical mutations bathe in your sauna, the mutation disappears.

WARM WELCOME: You have free entry to any bathhouse or sauna: even those who do not want to let you in must do so out of courtesy. You can also ask of anyone to use their bathing facilities, to the same effect. If anyone still refuses, their bath(house) is cursed. However, if they allow you to use it but only on a certain condition, that does not trigger this effect: they can effectively refuse you entry by allowing you to use it if you meet a condition which is impossible to meet. Only folkwise people know this loophole. 

You can give someone a piece of paper with your name and signature on to let them speak with your blessing: you pass this ability on to them for a day. At sundown the paper shrivels. You can only pass this ability to one person at a time, but you can still use the ability in the meantime.

SPIRIT FORM: Being a sort of natural spirit, you can occasionally change your form. For a total of ten minutes per day, while you are in an area that is not under distinct magical influence of an outside force, you can change into various natural forms:
  • An animal between the sizes of a squirrel and a moose. If you eat food that has touched human hands you must turn back.
  • A rock roughly equal to your size, or a small tree. You are immobile in this form. If you are completely put in shadow, you must turn back.
  • A gust of wind. When taking this form you must move constantly. If you are caught in a bedsheet, you must turn back.
  • A small pond (up to five feet across). You are immobile in this form. If someone throws rubbish into you, you must turn back.
If you are forced to turn back rather than do so of your own accord, you cannot change form again for that day. A druid, witch or shaman (not a wizard or sorcerer) can always tell you are not a regular natural feature when in changed form, and may command you to turn back: you must then choose to comply, or save to resist. If you fail the save, you are forced to turn back regardless.

Art by Vikki Truver

Thursday, December 31, 2020

GLOG class: Accidental Splatter Killer

I know, I know. It's a GLOG class. There are hundreds of those. No, literally, there are. I'm not sure whether there's much point in making new ones when I feel like it's more of a creative exercise than a real, useful piece of game resource. However, it's fun, and not too hard. You can probably adapt it to other stuff too. So here's this ridiculous thing.

You're a monster. You eviscerate those who threaten you without hesitation and with extreme brutality. But worst of all...you don't know how it keeps happening! Oh god, you're a nervous wreck, a teary-eyed worrywart. You were about to get a raise, and that was your new top and now it's covered in blood and oh god, oh god, will it ever stop?!

You're an industrial strength transmitter of splatter film bad luck. Somehow, whoever really stresses you out can expect an immediate and gruesome fate, which honestly is only tangentially related to you at best. It's a curse. You're sure it's a curse. What kind of horrible demon would do this to you?

Art by 룽텐 (Chainsaw Man fan art)


A: Save* +2, Attack -4, StressSPLATTER

B: Save* +1, Stealth +1, The Knife, +1 HD, -1 stress limit, -1 SPLATTER stress requirement.

C: Save* +2, Stealth +2, Cursed Clumsy, Splatterbrain, -2 stress limit, -1 SPLATTER stress requirement.

D: Choose one: FREEDOM or LOVE. +1 HD. Attack +6. Stealth -4.

*= this save bonus is negated if what you save against appears appealing and relaxing. Death is not relaxing to you, it scares the hell out of you. Like most things do.

Stress: Every time you are attacked, you fail a save, something dies within 10 feet of you, or you encounter something really fucked up, you gain a stress die. You can get rid of stress dice by drinking, smoking, getting high, or being loved. Every stress die you have reduces your Charisma and Dexterity by 1 because you are a mess. You start with 4 stress dice. A stress die is a d4.

Once you have 8 stress dice, save against death (wish) for every additional one you gain. If you ever hit 16 stress without dying, you instantly gain template D.

SPLATTER: There's a horrible curse on you that makes your constant state of nervous breakdown have eviscerating consequences. The higher your number of stress dice, the more devastating the SPLATTERs you can cause. Using a SPLATTER gives you one extra stress die. You can only use SPLATTERs on creatures with HD up to one higher than your own, and creatures with that one higher HD can save vs death to take [roll stress dice necessary to unlock SPLATTER] damage instead of being killed by a lethal splatter. Weak enemies may need to make a morale check if they witness a SPLATTER (GM's discretion). You can use splatters on enemies in a range of 10 feet times your current number of stress dice.

  • Skewer: target is gored by one or multiple sharp objects, blood spurts everywhere. Unlocks at 3 stress.
  • Deface: target's face is ripped off, their guts hang out, or they otherwise suffer a borderline-lethal but extremely painful and hideous injury. Unlocks at 3 stress.
  • Dismember: target loses 1d4 limbs and takes the stress die damage for each limb lost. Unlocks at 3 stress.
  • Decapitate: target is beheaded or has their head otherwise removed/destroyed. Always explode it if possible. Unlocks at 4 stress.
  • Rip: target is ripped, cut or otherwise separated into 1d4 pieces. Unlocked at 4 stress.
  • Pulp: target is smashed into a paste or exploded. Unlocked at 6 stress
SPLATTERs are freak accidents. They get uncannier when there seems no way in hell they could happen. Because they do happen.

Art by 룽텐 (Chainsaw Man fan art)

The Knife: You always end up with a knife in your pockets. So long as you have any way to conceal one, you are always carrying a knife, no matter how hard you try to get rid of it. It deals 1 damage when you use it intentionally against someone, but it deals damage equal to rolling all your current stress dice when it accidentally hurts someone. This knife cannot be used to cause you harm and will inflict a SPLATTER onto anyone who tries to force it to.

Cursed Clumsy: Whenever you roll a critical failure (e.g. natural 1 on d20) on any roll and your have more than 4 stress dice, a random SPLATTER is inflicted on a random valid target nearby. If the target is friendly, it can make a save vs death if the splatter is lethal to take the SPLATTER's damage instead. If you have 4 or fewer stress dice, gain a stress die.

Splatterbrain: Instead of getting a mishap on doubles, wizards casting a spell get a mishap if they roll a 1 on any MD if you are also in the range of the spell. If they do roll doubles, they suffer a Doom, and if they roll triples, they immediately suffer their third Doom.

Art by Choo
When you gain the 4th template, template D, you break. All of this blood and horror and death and murder and misfortune and stress explodes your mind. So what do you shout at the heart of the world?

FREEDOM: You learn the way to break your curse. This might involve killing some horrible evil spirit who presides over your soul on a mountain, performing a ritual in a shrine you have to assemble from human bones, or replacing literally all of your blood with the blood of your long lost sibling. Something crazy like that. The sheer insult of the blood-soaked road you have to crawl over fills you with an insane stress-energy panicked fury. You become immortal until you break your curse (you can still be hurt and incapacitated). The restriction on THE KNIFE is broken: it now always deals its 'accidental damage'. Your stress limit to start death saves is raised to 16. When you break your curse, you lose all your templates for this class and can never gain them again.

LOVE: You learn to love it. This is the only thing that seems to love you back anway. You snog the skull of death. Your panic becomes bloodlust. So that's how it is. You really are a monster. Your stress mechanic is destroyed. It's replaced by bloodlust, which builds up under the same conditions, but debuffs your Wisdom and Intelligence instead of Dexterity and Charisma. You gain bloodlust dice by using SPLATTERs, and lose one when a combat ends, when a day goes by without killing anybody, or when you are forced to take an explicitly non-violent solution. Instead of saving against death when you exceed a number of stress dice, you now do this when you drop below 4 bloodlust dice. Every day, this bottom limit goes up by 1. When you have so many bloodlust dice your INT or WIS hits zero, your character goes feral. You have to keep going, because once you stop, and you actually come to your senses, it will annihilate you. But, until then, it's a party.

Saturday, December 5, 2020

The Clown Skinners (and 1d100 things you find in an alley)

"You're no clown, you are a fat, greedy nightmare that has skinned a clown and now wears its hide, because if your ghastly form saw the light of day it would burn to dust!"

-Londa Earwig, to chairman Job Mugrees through the window of his carriage.

For all the ill portent that's often attributed to clowns, their malevolence is grossly overestimated. However, that's not to say that clowns don't possess distinct and sinister energies, they do of course. Buffoonery has its tendrils well under the surface of the world, entwined itself with its oversized shoe laces into street legerdemain. Any clown can tell you that being a clown takes more than putting the teary makeup and the big frilly collar on. It's almost like a possession. A surrender to pent-up grotesque emotion squeezed out of the world's infinite tragedy. You can't become the clown, you have to let the clown in.

Here are some clown (starting) items:


 A red nose made of rubber. Dry and tough.


 An egg in a box. The egg is painted like a clown's makeup. Not yours.


 Leather shoes that are a few sizes too big. Caked with sawdust and dried white paint.


 A tube of thick white foundation, and a few hardened brushes.


 A sweat-stained white tank top, and black-and-white striped suspenders.


A black-and-green checkered vest and trousers. Faded and patched up.


 The wooden crank of a tacky wind-up organ. Where is the organ?


 A white neck ruff. The edges are frayed.


 An old leaflet for a Paris theatre. Grand opening. Several years ago.


 A dirty hand mirror. Photograph of a circus trailer taped to the back.


 A set of wooden juggling clubs. One is red. You don't know why.


 A pie tin. Used.

As with any mysterious power, though, there are those who would steal it. And they make good money off it too. They're called the Guild of Clown Skinners. They skin clowns.

This Clown Skinner is a:


Tall, broad man with a black fedora and face mask, dark gloves and a buck knife.


Figure in pale leathers with a coat full of scalpels and scissors. Face in bandages.


Man in a brown business suit. Face smiling wickedly and unmoving, unblinking. Large dagger.


Short man, grey beard appears to cover entire face. Muscular and stringy. Suitcase with skinner knives.


Unnaturally tall woman. Limbs thin and spider-like. Blank expression and barber's razor. 


Figure with blade-like nails. Head on backwards, hat glued onto back-facing visage. 

Art by Adam Sillard

When you wear a clown skin, you become a joke, which is a great veil against scrutiny. To all who see you, you are an eccentric, bumbling idiot, who is strange but ultimately harmless. Even when you're stabbing someone in front of them. They'll go "Oh, haha, funny fellow, look at 'em go." You entertain them enough that they'll be inclined to disregard your offences and even try to get you into places of importance because they think it'll be, frankly, hilarious.

Clown skin sells very well with politicians and cult leaders. The Skinners operate a rather succesful black market trade in skin of clown, or as it's known in code, theatre felt. Competition? Of course not. They skin clowns for a living, are you crazy? You can't barter with them either. The price is the price.

Wearing clown skin inside out makes you socially invisible: you're not literally gone from sight, but attention is deflected from you and people do not notice you or remember your presence if you don't run straight into them. The Clown Skinners themselves wear clothing made of inside-out clown skin.

These effects are stronger/harder to resist the more clown skin you wear, and the strongest when you just wear the entire clown.

Things wearing entire clowns could be:


A sentient mass of worms running for prime minister.


A hollow man.


 A lecherous, 'quirky' novella writer who explodes with corpse gas when set on fire.


A man-pig (pig's legs and arse instead of head) who is your landlord. 


That one at the bar who smells of sick and onion, and is actually a serial killer with fingernails for teeth.


 Beelzebub, lord of flies.

Art by Paul Cezanne, 1888



 The ORKUS growling at you from in the gutters.


Bedpan shower.


 Freshly skinned clown.


Lonely greyhound eating scraps. Friendly.


Empty pile of absinthe bottles.


Two people snogging.


Abandoned travelling case, clothing strewn across alley.


Beggar with dancing monkey. Hat for coins.


Bucket of nearly empty oil paint tubes.


Ten people in black cloaks with daggers, waiting at door for signal to burst in.


Drafts thrown away by despairing poet.


Monster hunter. Down on their luck. Will kill anything for money.


Blond hair strewn around the alley.


Maze of drying clothes on wooden racks.


Dead cat. Very softly it repeats a phrase in human speech.


Actual maze.


Single human bone (d50).


Hastily discarded coat and bloodstained dagger.


 Bathtub, on its side. Thrown out because it is cursed.


Three loose teeth.


Locket with a face that resembles a human, but only barely.


Metal fence gate. Crossing sends you to other identical gate in city.


 Wax doll, clothed but trampled and smudged. Head contains a key. What for?


Hay cart. 1 in 6 chance an assassin is inside.


Curse that drags you into the drain if you turn around while walking through the alley.


Three people dead from gunshot wound. Each holds a fired pistol.


 Cast-away tray of mouldering macaroons.


Burned out barrel. Cold.


 A penny dreadful, stepped on. Victim's name is different from yours by one arbitrary letter.


Framed mirror, abandoned. 1 in 6 chance it's cursed.


Wood saw, bloodied.


An unclean spirit.


Gigolo, insistent that he's cutting you specifically a deal.


Three cats. White, brown, black.


A bruised street sweeper. Eyes you warily.


Dead horse.


Two old men playing checkers.


Mumbling woman covered in writing tattoos.


 A piece of bread. Soggy.


Tunnel into a nearby dungeon cell.


Some hobos around a fire brazier. Roasting bread.


Sphynx that blocks the alley. Smokes cigars. Tits out. Gorged fat on beggars.


Mostly complete skeleton, in pieces. Nibbled clean.


Black magic market. Bones, dried animals, tusks, graveyard soils.


So many rats.




Young girl trying to sell matchsticks.


Iron lockbox. Forced open. Pages are torn from the book inside.


Stairwell to a drug den. Cheap, but bad quality.


 Large puddle of blood. Single finger in the middle. Wears a ring.


Localised rain. Slight drizzle.


Gift bouquet of flowers. Trampled.


Kitchen staff on break, smoking cigarettes.


Entry of small cinema. Runs a few silent films. Seen better days.


More and more alley. The alley is endless from this entry point.


Dying detective.


Brick wall. One brick is loose. Hidden compartiment behind.


Wooden panel with folklore story triptych. Scratched.


Vengeful mommer (undead skinned clown).


Mediocre poets commiserating.


Spies convening. Scatter if they notice you.


Street shrine to a minor god.


Disembodied hand caught in spring-loaded dentures.


Incense vapours from temple's windows.


Gang conflict. Good luck not getting shanked.


Lit oil lantern on a crate.


Blacked out hungover mathematician.


Appears to be a baby, actually log in swaddling.


Pitchfork. Attached note: "Seeking Torch."


Flesh-eating redcaps.


The writer who disappeared 5 months ago, barely alive.


Escaped servants. Planning to escape city.


Investigator pummelled into unconsciousness. Thrown on garbage heap.


Brothel. Run by speaking walrus wearing pearls.


Faint fish smell.


Waterway instead of street. Masked ferryman does not charge fees.


Coffins made of wooden boards. Nailed shut.


Paranoid academic with stolen scrolls. Emaciated from stress. Obsessive.


Horse race tickets. Horse bet on is "Idiot Sultan." Multiple dates.


Small red egg with facial features. Eyes and mouth closed. Sinister aura.


Splintered cane, two robbers groaning in pain.


Boots. Many sizes. Worn and empty.


Bounty posters, legal and illegal. 1 in 6 chance you are on there.


Lobster restaurant waste. Empty carapaces. Rancid fish sauce.


Hot meat bun stand.


Newspaper urchin.


Hacked up body in burlap sack.


Puddle of sick.


Particularly large bat sleeping under overhang.


Abandoned mask. Cracked.


Shanty sung from open window up above.


Greasy cone of newspapers holding baked fries. Spilled onto the ground.


Smashed piano.


Debt collectors.


Person bricked up in the road up to their neck. Speaking head from the cobblestones.


Dead collectors.


Assassin. They're after you.


Tim, the Rat King.


A murder you can prevent if quick about it.


Entry to the lair of the Lamb.