Speaker 1: Hi, this is Jason from the Nerds RPG Variety Cast
and you are listening to Tale of the Manicor. The
following podcast is intended for a mature audience. Listener discretion
is advised. Welcome back to Tale of the Manticor Season three.
Like the creature from which it takes its name, Tale
of the Manticor is a mashup, a crossbreeding between two
different species of storytelling. Here you will find the unpredictability
of old school paper and dice games with the story
craft of a dark fantasy novel. No character is sacred
and none will be spared if the dice decide their
fate is at hand. According to Laura, the Tale of
a Manticre is barbed with cruel iron spikes. There will
be much pain in the days ahead. Last time on
Tail of the Manticor, Chapter eighteen begins with Achillia interrogating
a confused fair Wind about odok Zygog, whose name she
had previously mispronounced. He doesn't have much to tell her,
except to say that the famous historian is a known recluse,
and that there's more of rumor about him to be
had than reliable information. Their conversation is interrupted when Chord
finds something hidden under brambles and crabgrasses. It's a tile
that can be easily lifted away to reveal an empty
space below the Chilia is almost certain that Court has
just found the came Or crypt and reasons that the
ghost of Leerhane must have been seeking it. Perhaps they
can return his skull to its final resting place and
lift Morok's curse. The five pieces descended to the crypt
below using Dorenni's rope, and fair Wind builds a small
though in order that he may see here. Achillia notices
something about Kord's wound. Judging by the little sprout she
finds on his torso, it appears that the wooden construct
did not only healing but growing. Cord levels up and
gains the spell slow Poison. When we returned to the group,
we find them preparing to exit the room through the
only available way out other than the whole in the ceiling.
They pass under an arch and come to a t junction.
Tentyer begins to feel his courage to leave him, but
to Rennie takes a moment to bolster his resolve and
remind him of exactly who he is In the previous episode,
I talked a bit from a story or meta perspective
about how I determined that there would be a way
into the crypt via a removable ceiling tile with a
broken corner. Two robbers had been here before at some point.
That's how the skull of Prince Lerahan found its way
into Momby's possession. The broken corner explains how the sprites
had been able to enter the tomb. I neglected to
mention that there was a third element to this my event,
meaning open success. I interpreted that to mean that the
Piecs could enter the Kymore Crypt without any real difficulty.
So now I need to roll for a new set
of prompts from mythic. Here's two D ten. Let's roll
em up. I've got fifty nine and twenty four. That's
agree tension, Agree about tension or possibly tense agreement, some
dispute between two or more party members, perhaps well as usual.
I'm not too sure, but I'm not worried. It'll work
its way into the story before long. While I have
the action on hold, I'm going to flip another card
for my one shot in the dark dungeon generator. I've
got huh it's the ten of Hearts that's actually my
target card, as it represents the family crypt in one
shot in the dark. There's a rule that if you
pull the target card too early, you have to replace
it in the deck and reshuffle, then draw again. For
this scenario, or if you prefer module, I decided that
I would need to pull a minimum of three cards
before the PCs can reach their target room. And I've
only pulled one, So back into the deck it goes,
and we draw a new one. Okay, the deck is
reshuffled and the new card is three of Hearts, which
means the next room will be let's see a thirty
by forty foot room of statues with two eggs. Pretty straightforward,
and there's just one more thing to work out. I
want a mechanic to introduce the possibility of danger into
each new area of this crypt. I think that'd be
more fun than populating it by dmfiat. Here's what I'll do.
I'll make a wandering monster check every time I flip
a new card to determine a new room. By the way,
in season three, wandering encounters have happened when I roll
high on a D six. That's how the expert rules
say to do it. But I'm going back to the
older basic D and D rule found on page B
fifty three that says a one on a D six
indicates an encounter. So it's roll low in basic and
roll high in expert, or more precisely, roll low in
a dungeon or roll high in the wilderness clear as mud. Right, anyway,
here's the role for this room of statues using in
D six, and I am looking for anything but a one.
I've got a two ooh two close for comfort, yuicks.
But okay, I think I have all I need. Time
to get back to the narrative. Chapter nineteen, Part one,
Day sixteen, mid afternoon, mythic event meaning agree tension, party
status Achillia seven out of seven hit points, Chord eight
out of fourteen, do any nine out of nine, ten
tier ten out of ten spells available. Achilia has memorized
message times two cord can cast, entangle, locate plants and animals,
and slow poison. Let's go left, said Tintyr, and so
they did. Dornni led the way, then came his younger brother,
who was followed by Cord, Achilia and fair Wind. Dornni's
words had bolstered Tendere's confidence somewhat. Thinking of his mother
had always had that effect on him. All the same,
he could not deny the feeling of foreboding that seemed
to suffuse his whole being. If only they were able
to use their dark vision, it would not be so bad.
But the human's torchlight threw wild shadows everywhere while barely
lighting their way. The cleric's light came from behind and
only extended a couple dozen feet ahead of them. Perhaps
the human should be the one to take the lead,
thought Tantyre. He was more familiar with places such as these,
strange underground places built by men in an effort to
deny death. The corridor ended in an archway that opened
into a second room. As the companions grew near, the
details beyond resolved into tall and frightening shapes. Again. If
it hadn't been for the weird and inconsistent lighting, Tenter
would have been spared the jolt of fear that shot
through him when they first laid eyes upon the statues
in the next room. He was simply not accustomed to
seeing in this way, nor with being in places like this,
underground with no easy exits. At hand, so when he
saw the first statue, it made him start. It was
a life sized figure of a bearded warrior, a little
taller than fair Wind, but with a beard that was
full and thick, with whirls and curls, unlike the clerics,
whose was thin and uneven. There was a similar statue
beside the first, another warrior, also bearded and with narrowed
eyes that glowered under a lowered brow. In total, there
were six statues, Three were of males and three of females.
The men were all warriors, judging by their stone, weapons
and armor, the women must be nobles. They wore their
hair and braids and were decorated with jeweled necklaces, bracelets,
and rings. Their faces were severe but beautiful. Every detail,
from the jewels in their rings to their perfectly shaped faces,
were all carved from stone. All statues had one thing
in common. Each cradled the candle in their left hand
close to their breast. The sculptor had carved these with
the same eye for realism as the rest of the figures,
and had included small details such as rattles of melting wax,
and topped them with little stone teardrop shaped flames six
candles marked the way through long lives, twists and turns
from tiny infant's first breath, said Achilia softly, remembering one
of the first poems that her Vapy had taught her.
Tin Tyr and Doranni could not understand since she recited
it in the common tongue, but they stopped and listened attentively,
perhaps thinking that she was speaking a prayer until the.
Speaker 2: Grave age and all that was too learns. On the
way to dusky Death, I know that.
Speaker 1: Poem, said Ferwind in a low voice.
Speaker 3: It's one of Hamnett Rattlestaff's best, though I believe the
last line is on the way to dusty death. Wherever
did you learn it?
Speaker 1: I preferred dusky, replied Akelia after a moment consideration.
Speaker 2: It's more evocative. Regardless, I think this is his very best,
though I admit I almost thought the six candles were
a metaphor.
Speaker 3: Rattlestaff knows the histories he would have to have read.
Speaker 1: Fairwind had no desire to reopen the subject of odok zygog.
Speaker 3: A widely in order to write as he does.
Speaker 1: Apart from the statues and two more open archways, the
room was empty. Nothing moved but for their shadows, which
had diminished as the light from Fairwind's brand had begun
to wane. Which way little Mouse as de Rennie to Tintyre.
Once he determined that the conversation between Fairwind and Achillee
did not concern him. Left or right, he pointed with
the tip of his sword, first at one archway, then another.
Ten tier schewed his lip. The statues were lined up
with three males to the left and three females to
the right. To reach either exit would mean passing between
two warriors statues, or else two of the noble women.
Ten Deer could have no idea which way they should go,
appreciated that his brother was giving him the choice all
the same, Let's go left, he said, and Durani led
the way. And just like that, it's time to generate
the next part of this crypt. As I've only drawn
two cards. If I get the ten of Hearts my
target card that I need to redraw, here goes six
of Hearts. One shot in the dark tells me that's
a oh oh oh. It's a trapped hallway with no
thief in the party. The pieces are bound to set
it off. The table entry says it should do one
to eight points of damage, and I think that works.
But hang on, we know that two Marbbers have been
here in the past, so it's reasonable to say there's
a chance they would have already set off this trap.
I'll roll high low Hi means that's exactly what has happened.
But twelve, well, that's good news for two reasons. There's
the obvious, but it also means they are likely headed
in the right way. I just need to make a
quick wandering encounter check before I returned to the narrative,
rolling one before more good news. Only a one indicates
a wandering encounter. When in a dungeon, Durreni passed between
the towering second and third Warriors before entering a curving
hallway that he believed bent to the west. Already, he
was losing his bearings down here. Why would humans opt
to burrow in the earth like orcs when it was
so much easier and so much more pleasant to build
under the sky. He would have to ask Achillia to
ask their new companion when they left this place, he
hoped that would be soon behind him. Achilia was struggling.
She found that the stone statues reminded her strongly of
her Bobby, but she pushed the thought away. It would
not do to be consumed by grief right now, so
that's what she did. She pushed down her emotions and
simply followed Dorenni fifteen feet into the corridor. Just as
it started to curve to the right, something caught his
eye and he called a halt. He whispered back to
a a Killia to have fair wind pass his torch forward,
and the clerk reluctantly acquiesced. The flame was very small,
Dorannie noticed, and the torch looked like it wouldn't last
more than another few minutes. He returned his attention to
the shape that had made him stop. There was a
line bisecting the top half of the corridor from the bottom,
perhaps a pole or a spear, and it seemed to
have pinned something to the left wall. It was it
was a skeleton, a human skeleton. A few rags still
clung to the bones, but that was all that remained
of this poor soul. Dorrenni motioned the others to stay
back while he crept forward, and he could hear them
whispering among themselves as he did so. Yes, he'd been right.
It was a skeleton with some cut of shaft passing
straight through it. It skewered the torso through the rib cage.
Oh creature, breathed Derrennie to himself.
Speaker 2: To die in a place like this To.
Speaker 1: An elf it was a harrowing thought, akin to being
buried alive. Elves did not in her their dead. Derenni
had heard stories about places such as these, and so
he was familiar with the concept of traps. He understood
what had happened here, but still could not see what
had triggered the mechanism, though we scanned the wall on
floor looking for clues. Eventually he decided that since it
was already tripped, the trap was now harmless. He called
the others forward, and one by one they ducked under
the metal shaft of the spear trap, maintaining their marching
order as they proceeded a round the bend in the corridor.
Once again. I've got the DM hat back on, and
my dice and a deck of cards are at hand.
Since I've already drawn three cards in the exploration of
this dungeon, I've passed the minimum requirement before I could
reach the target room. That's the ten of Hearts, which
will indicate Moroc's family crypt. My deck only contains hard carts,
and I removed the nine, Queen and King even before
it came into play. With the two, three, and six
already drawn, there are now six cards left, still plenty
of chaos. The sooner I draw that ten of Hearts,
the better, because every card brings danger along with it
in the form of a wandering monster check or the
potential hazards, just like we saw with the trapped corridor.
Here's the draw Jack of Hearts, Old boy. That's well,
I'll just read the entry ghost. If a character has died,
their ghost floats through the wall. On a successful saving throw,
the spirit blesses the party. If unsuccessful, the spirit blames
the party for their death and curses them. There's a
bit more in here, but it's not applicable to this story,
and obviously there are no deceased PCs to bring back. Instead,
I'll try to keep the essence of the encounter by
saying that the party will encounter a ghost, but the
saving throw, represented here by a high low roll will
determine whose ghost it is. A high role means it's
the ghost of Prince Leirhane, and he will likely provide
some kind of help to the pcees. A low roll
will indicate an encounter with the ghost of Queen and Ni,
which would be very bad, or else the count Wizard,
whom we know nothing about and could go any which way.
Since this is already a kind of wandering encounter, I
will not roll the usual D six as an additional check.
I'm sure this will prove to be more than enough
to fill out the scene. Rolling the high low on
in D twenty Well, okay, then Chapter nineteen, Part two,
Day sixteen, late afternoon mythic of end meaning agree tension
party status. The party status is unchanged during any pass
the waning torch to Teniers. He easily docked under the
spear trap, and then Tentier handed it to Achillie as
he followed suit. Achillia, being a bit taller, had to
dip down half a foot before she passed and held
the flaming stick for Court, who was required to crawl
awkwardly on his wooden hands and knees. Fairwind came last,
also crawling, and received his torch back from the half
elf when he stood up looking at its dying fire.
He had a notion and thrust it into the skeleton's
rags with a twisting motion. The flames sputtered and grew,
brightening the hall as it flared back to its original size,
while filling the corridor with the smell of burnt dust.
Fairwind considered his work and tutted his tongue. His makeshift
torch would last a few more minutes, but he really
should have thought to bring more wood. The crypt was
proving to be much larger than he'd expected. While the
clerk worked on his light source, Achillie studied the skeleton
impaled on the spear trap. Little winking embers speckled some
of its bones and made it seem magical and otherworldly.
Like de Rennie, she considered how horrible it would be
to die in a place such as this, and felt
pity for them. Whatever kind of person they had.
Speaker 2: Been, this must have been one of the men or
women who came and robbed this place, she said.
Speaker 1: To Cord, who creaked thoughtfully in agreement. The companions carried
on down the hall. Fairwind's nearly improvised torch flung their
shadows against the walls ahead amid them stretch and loom
like deformed phantoms as the passage began to descend by
steps for another fifteen or twenty feet deeper into the earth.
When the steps ended and the passage flattened out, the
party found themselves in a corridor that curved the right,
once again pointing back to the north. In the lead,
Dornni was having difficulty seeing clearly because of Fairwin's torch flight,
but before long he could make out an intersection ahead
right in the middle of the junction. Was actually Dornni
did not know what he was seeing, and at first
thought it was a trick of the light, just like
their menacing shadows in the space where the four hallways met.
It looked to him as if the air itself was
being bent and distorted. Thinking it might be another trap,
he called the halt, intending to go on alone to investigate.
But before he even turned around, there came a sudden
coughing sound from Fairwin's torch. He flared brightly, despite the
complete absence of any wind or air current down the hid.
Then it sputtered again and went out completely. Fairwin did
not see what the others saw, and perhaps for the
sake of his nity, that was for the best, as
her der Ani ten Teer, Achillia and Cord. When their
dark vision resolved, they saw a thing that pushed the
limits of reality as they understood it. In the intersection
was a person that seemed to be made of fluid,
milky glass. It floated a foot above the floor. No
feet emerged from below the bell like shape of the
phantom's courtly robe, but it did have arms that extended
from the sleeves of its glowing pel tunic. These ended
in colorless hands. The cupped a face that was not there.
The floating apparition was headless, and yet it seemed to
hold itself as though weeping. The torso shook with silent sobs,
while the figure's whole being hung in mid air, rotating slowly.
Achilia's heart flicked in her chest like a beached fish.
She knew right away that this was the boy from
her dreams, but knowing did little to alleviate the terror
she felt threatened to overtake her senses. At the same time,
a river of pity broke through some damn inside her. Altogether,
it was a concoction of emotions too strong and too
strange to process. It was all she could do to
remember to breathe.
Speaker 3: The fire I cannot see.
Speaker 1: Said Fairwind, in a breathy whisper that suggested he could send.
Something momentous was taking place. I'll do piece, clerk, Acilia admonished.
Since de Rennie tantyran Court could not speak with it
and Fairwind could not even see it, she knew it
was up to her. Of course, it was up to her.
This was the boy from her dreams, and she had
spoken with him before. The thought gave her the courage
she needed. Spirit she called, in which she hoped was
a steady voice.
Speaker 2: We are here to help you find your rest.
Speaker 1: But there was no reaction at all from the floating apparition.
Acilia had not expected that.
Speaker 2: She tried again, restless Spirit, I am Achilia, I I
dreamed of you.
Speaker 1: The words felt inadequate, foolish, but she didn't know what
else to say. Dorannian Tantire didn't understand any of it,
as she was using the common tongue of men. All
the same, Dorrenni whispered back, it appears not to hear you, Achilia,
What do you want to do? Suddenly Achilia had an idea.
She cast the spell message.
Speaker 2: Prince Leuhne, which way must we go in order to
help you regain your rest?
Speaker 1: The spirit's reaction was immediate, and the companions as one
shrank back in fear. The translucent hands came away from
where its face would have been to reveal only a
dark smudge. It was as if a painter in frustration
had smeared his palm across his pigments while they were
still wet. Although the aspect was terrifying, the voice that
came to Achilia was pure and full of pain.
Speaker 2: Are you there?
Speaker 3: I just watch see show me the way?
Speaker 1: Reply to Quillia, this time out loud, since her spell
had expired. At first, it seemed as though the ghost
would not reply, but then slowly and deliberately, it pointed
a white finger down the westward hallway. An instant later,
Fairwind's torch rasped back to life, brighter than it had
been when he first lit it, making everyone start Duringing
blinked hard. The figure was gone. There was nothing in
the space where it had been, no strange flexing of air,
nothing at all.
Speaker 3: You saw something in the darkness.
Speaker 1: Yes, said Frewind in a quivering voice. I knew the
way was Achilie's reply. I briefly considered making a reaction
roll to see if the ghost of Learhane would be
positively disposed towards the pieces or not, but in the
end I went with DM Fiat, deciding that the Prince
would reckon Nysakilia as his best chance for salvation. I'd
already exposed the party to danger when determining which ghost
would appear, so it seemed unfair to force them to
endure two rolls. Mechanically, knowing the right way to turn
at this intersection in the dungeon will have an in
game advantage. I'm going to remove three cards from the
six remaining in the deck. This gives the party a
better chance to reach the target room faster, which is
definitely in their best interest. Here we go removing three cards. Okay,
none of the newly removed cards are the target ten
of Hearts. That card is still in there as one
of the remaining three. I'm not quite done with the cards, though,
I need to draw a new one to see what
the PCs will find next. With luck, they are about
to reach the end of this dungeon and the draw well,
look at that, it is the ten of hearts. But
there's still one more check to make as I roll
for a wandering encounter, and this time I think the
stakes should be higher than a one in six. Let's
say a one to three on a D six will
trigger a dangerous encounter for this final room rolling, looks
like I didn't even need to raise the stakes. The
dice gods know how this stuff is supposed to work.
I've got a one chapter nineteen, Part three, day sixteen,
late afternoon mythic event meaning agree tension party status. The
party status is unchanged, with the exception of Achillie, who
has used one of her two message spells. I know
the way, was Achillee's reply.
Speaker 2: Let's do what we can to do and get out
of here.
Speaker 1: Wait, said Fairwind.
Speaker 3: I need, I need a moment. Just give me a moment.
Speaker 1: The cleric was staring into the tongues of fire that
clung brightly to his makeshift torch. They cast moving shadows
across his face and emphasized the conflicting emotions written across it.
Speaker 3: Are you Are you all right?
Speaker 1: Fairwind glowered at the flickering flames for a moment before replying.
Speaker 3: When I was young, my mentor would often tell me, Dalen,
all the darkness of the world cannot extinguish the light
in the smallest candle, he told me. He told me
that I should think about that in time of doubt
or despair.
Speaker 1: Ah, he sighed.
Speaker 3: But just now, just now, I see that it is
my faith that has wavered.
Speaker 1: Something changed in his tone and countenance. His jaw muscles worked.
Then Fairwind held up his brand as though it was
his holy symbol.
Speaker 3: Sid All has sent me a sign. And next time
I shall not falter. Lead the way, my friends, and
let us put wrong to right.
Speaker 1: De Rennic could only guess at what the cleric was saying.
He looked to Achilia, who nodded at him to proceed,
so he did. He took them to the intersection where
the ghost had hovered moments before, and although it sent
a chill down their spines, they were not hindered in
any way. As they took the left turn pointing west.
A forty foot long cord or brought them to another
open archway. They approached cautiously but deliberately, until they could
make out the contents of the chamber beyond burial crypt,
said de Rennie, tightening his grip on the hilt of
his sword.
Speaker 3: Ready yourselves.
Speaker 2: I think this is it.
Speaker 1: Thanks for listening to Tale of the Manticor if you're
enjoying the show and would like to help to support it,
there are lots of ways to do so. You could
recommend the show online or to friends. You can like
and repost episode announcements on social media. You can pick
up one of my offerings on drive through RPG or
a t shirt at www Dot Baar Arts dot store.
And finally, you can rate or review the show on
your podcatrier choice. I am super grateful for all of
your support. At this point, I'd like to share a
listener review. This one was left by t whiz two
on Apple Podcasts. T whiz two rights this is the
only podcast I listen to religiously. I'm always excited when
the next episode comes out. The narrator does an amazing
job keeping neutral and not steering the PCs away from
danger and keeping them from harm, and you can feel
the genuine excitement in his voice as epic battles unfold.
The episodes are the perfect length to listen to on
a walk or on a commute to work. Ah Ta
whiz two, thank you so very much. For that review.
Words of encouragement like yours are a big part of
what keeps me going. Very very much appreciated. This episode
features the voices of three great voice actors. Derenni, Tantyr,
and Fairwind are played by Kye Ellen, Kevin Barringer, and
Dave Cooper, respectively. These guys are my core cast and
I am deeply indebted to them. Thank you, guys. For
those curious to learn a bit more about Tale of
the Manticor, I keep a blog where I post all
kinds of show on RPG related stuff like art, maps, tables, crafts,
and show notes. You can find it at Tale Ofthemanticre
dot blogspot dot com. To keep in touch with me,
I'm at Manticore, tale on X, Tale of the Manticor
on Instagram, tale of Themanticor at gmail dot com. I've
also recently joined Blue Sky, so get in touch. I'd
love to hear from you. The adventure will continue on
the next episode of Tale of the Mantagor, the story
with Chaos Robles