Thursday, April 15, 2021

1d6 more Backgrounds for TROIKA!

Another d6 backgrounds for use with anything TROIKA!-esque, made with inspiration taken from posts and characters scattered across my blog, as well as a few ideas which haven't seen light... yet.

Here and here are my other backgrounds, and here is where the next will eventually be.

Once I get to 36, I'll compile them into a full d66 table!

Would you believe it took me this long to get halfway because I hate transferring tables over to Blogger and fussing with them until they display just right? Let's try another method.

Awakened Crypt-Seeker

You couldn't even die right. Now you've gone and risen as a desiccated husk that can never, ever fully die. Black smoke pumps through your veins, and you see through the false eyes of an ornamental death mask. But you will stop at nothing to find the rest you seek.


  • Empty Smoke Flask.
  • Funerary Mask revealing your origins.
  • Some poor sod's femur (Damage as Club).
  • A Woeful Errand.

Advanced Skills

1 in a Fighting Skill of your choice
1 Awareness
1 Healing
4 Pain Tolerance
3 Strength


Your urge to crawl up inside of a nice sensory deprivation coffin and wait for the heat death of the universe--the Need--is powerful, sometimes all-consuming. Any charm spell or other mind-controlling effect on you lasts only half as long.


You renounced everything, even your name and your sense of independent arising, and became a red-robed mendicant. You wander wherever suffering is greatest, healing hurts and easing pain while scorning Najis and advertising your strange, nihilistic order by dint of your mere existence.


  • Crimson Robes.
  • Healer's Kit.
  • Mendicant's Bowl.
  • Painkillers (4 Uses).

Advanced Skills

2 Begging
1 Etiquette
4 Healing
4 Secret Signs


You have renounced all verbal and written forms of communication, but you can silently express yourself and even articulate complex ideas through a combination of signs, expressions, and body language. Magical silence has no effect on you.

Fokari Kha'en

Exile. Outlaw. Kinslayer. Kha'en. You have been banished from your tribe for transgressions against the laws of hobgoblins and gods both. With slashed cheeks and damned memory, you wander out into the wastes seeking fate under the distant, pitying gaze of the great Eagle.


  • A Knife.
  • Intimidating Cheek Scars.
  • Splintering Tent-Pole or Tattered Pashdehm Tapestry or Small Bronze Brazier.
  • Waterskin.
  • Yuum Wool Coat (Light Armour).

Advanced Skills

1 Awareness
2 Intimidation
2 Knife Fighting
1 Run
2 Tracking
2 Trapping


Your body is like a withered reed, bending but rarely breaking in the wind. You can survive in a quarter of the food and water that others need to live, and hot or cold environments don't harm you after a day of adjustment.

Holy/ Half-Holy of Yishel

You are a devotee of the godhead of truth and uncomfortable revelations. By delving into its unconscious mind, you can uncover the future before it has happened. Whether or not the full knowledge is worth your time or your customers' money is another matter, so charlatans abound in Yishel's service.


  • Divination Set.
  • Fortune Teller's Tent.
  • Holy Symbol of Yishel (Magic 8-Ball).
  • Sign labeled "No Refunds" (Damage as Staff).
  • Tip jar.

Advanced Skills

2 Astrology
1 Disguise
2 Evaluate
3 Second Sight
2 Sleight of Hand
1 Sneak


You may Test your Luck to ask for details of an event in the near future. You receive one piece of good news, and bad news, which both must now come to pass. You can choose to share one or both of these details with others.


Unlike the Lamplighters who reluctantly worship at the irradiated altar of pallite, you serve the wandering Moon in Her quest to peel back the darkness forever. Like a pinpoint of starlight you stand as a beacon of both hope and daring fashion sense.


  • Crescent Moon Sword.
  • Full Moon Shield.
  • Star-Studded Robes like the night sky of old.
  • A Vial of Incandescent Water.

Advanced Skills

1 Acrobatics
2 Astrology
2 Craft Moonwater
1 Etiquette
1 Spell - Flash
1 Spell - Light
2 Sword Fighting
1 Strength


By downing a vial of moonwater, your whole body and all of your possessions glow like a torch for up to 1 hour. While aglow, you are immune to magical darkness. Creatures made of shadow and darkness that try to touch you must Test their Skill or be shunted away as if by the Fear spell.

Pain-Taster of Najis

You are an accomplished priest of the godhead of healing and suffering. Life is pain, and therefore pain is the essence of life. You ensure that both abound in ample supply as you wander the spheres, blurring the line between torture and medicine with your unanesthetized yet highly effective ministrations.


  • Bandages and Salt.
  • Degree in Medicine from the Sodality of the Blissful Scourging.
  • Holy Symbol of Najis (Scepter of Woven Human Skin and Hair).
  • Too Many Torture Implements.
  • Vestments of Knives and Needles.

Advanced Skills

2 Astrology
4 Healing
2 Intimidation
4 Mortuary Science
1 Spell - Skeletal Counsel


You may determine a body's exact time and cause of death, as well as any notable medical conditions, by slicing off and sampling a small piece of it.

Saturday, March 27, 2021

"Surviving" the Underworld

No one remembers what being dead used to be like.

Maybe a stoic old god once presided over the souls of the restful dead in a great hall.

Maybe there was simply nothing, and no one to experience it.

The only thing that is certain is that most theories are far better than the current reality.

When a living thing dies, its soul–or shade, or copy, or some other facet of its being–is taken somewhere else. That somewhere else is a never-ending prison of pain, misery, and psychological torment, at least when things are operating smoothly. This underworld for lack of a better name is presided over by a seemingly infinite assortment of malicious entities whose greatest–but not sole–calling is mortal suffering.

If a new arrival is scooped up into their shadowy yet too-real clutches, they quickly learn that all the awfulness of life was just a prelude to this. Pains new and familiar are visited upon them ad nauseum until they become numbed to them. The torturers switch their cruelties up regularly, many specializing in different forms of pain. This continues until the very fabric of the shade's being unravels, and they cease to be. This unraveling is only a temporary reprieve, however. Soon the shade coalesces together again, fresh and ready for new agonies.

This is not a punishment for anything. This underworld is not a place where transgressions are paid for. Everything–saintly, sinful, and standard–comes here to suffer. It is suffering for its own sake, and the shade is nothing more than a conduit through which suffering may flow.

This only happens if the shade is captured, of course.

The underworld is a vast, ever-changing place, with many nooks and crannies in which to hide. All of it is hostile and unwelcoming, but not all of it is beyond the means of the dead to resist and overcome- especially when they work together.

At some point in the murky past, a resistance movement of sorts formed. United by common cause and a general aversion of infinite torture, mortal shades started to band together on the desolate fringes of the underworld, scraping an existence out of the rocks and launching guerrilla raids on their jailers, whom they have given many names to in an attempt to better understand and confront with them. Every soul they find, whether newly died or wrested from the clutches of the torturers, is another particle of spit in the eye of the underworld.

Being a Shade

Your body, if it can be called that, looks like an unusually dense cloud of shadows and dust in its natural state. It is highly mutable and morphic. Your torturers use this to their advantage when they have you at their (lack of) mercy- most of the deformed, tortured-looking edifices and objects you find dotting the underworld were once (or rather, still are) other shades.

But you can also exert control over yourself. This provides a number of unexpected benefits. You may appear in any way that you please, and you may change that as often as you wish. You may look as you did in life, or as you always wished you had looked, or as whatever essential 'true' self you think you have, or something entirely different- age, species, gender, and all other permutations of being have little bearing down here.

You may even take the form of an inanimate object, in case your friend needs a weapon in a pinch, or you simply always wanted to be a fancy bauble.

Other shades will always be able to perceive you as 'you', just as you can recognize them. Call it a familiar aura, if you want.

You sense and perceive things in the manner that you are used to, albeit in ways that are either dulled and muted, or too painfully acute. You don't need to eat, drink, or sleep, but you still suffer from hunger, thirst, and fatigue. You can shrug off a remarkable amount of damage, but the pain lingers for ages.

Even without infernal tormentors, existence down here is an endless, inconvenient chore.

Just like home, right?


On the topic of your new home, there is much to say- infinitely much, in fact. Shades before you have tried, but none have ever found the full extent of the underworld, nor have they been able to extract information on the subject from captured demons. You will probably be no different.

But your kind are not wholly ignorant of this new, unwelcoming world that you find yourselves in. 

Some things are tried and true.

The underworld seems laterally infinite, but only occupies a vertical space a little larger than its largest mountain chains. Admittedly that is not saying much because even the smallest of the underworld's hooked peaks is several times larger than anything you ever saw in life. But there is a top, and it's rumored that shades have even seen what occupies the vaulted ceiling, high above the roiling neon clouds.

Apparently the revelation was worse than a thousand simultaneous unravelings, and their screams are still carried on the acrid wind to this day.

The underworld is constantly changing to make itself more hostile to anything passing through it. Within a matter of hours a small, dry cave entrance used as shelter can warp into the dead center of an enormous, thorny labyrinth.

Two things can temporarily fix a point; observation, and anguish.

By being present and cognizant in an area, you and other shades can slow or halt the landscape's changing. In this way, you can carve out and maintain territory long enough for it to feel familiar. This is how cells of free shades tend to operate. You cannot shape the land as you wish- that is a privilege enjoyed only by very powerful or very numerous evil spirits.

Pain also fixes a point in space. The biggest and most hideous bastions of your tormentors have stood unchanging for eons, maintained by the incalculable suffering that goes on within.

You will probably be driven out of any area before you can call it home. Fortunately, you probably don't have a lot you have to carry around with you.

Grave Goods

Death, it turns out, is not a perfect equalizer. Sure, you're all shadows and dust flung into the maw of evil, but some start off better equipped than others.

You begin play with a small assortment of items copied from the objects surrounding you at the time of death and/or burial. This may include the clothes and tools you were buried with, food that was burned with you, or even a living thing that was sacrificed to honor you- generally an animal like a horse or domestic cat. Or perhaps you were sacrificed in honor of someone else, who was quickly carried away by demons, leaving you to carry away their grave goods.

You can only bring as many facsimiles as you can carry on your person, or else coax along with you. If you were buried with all of your material wealth, it turns out you really can't take it with you. Fortunately, money is worthless down here unless it's forged from another tortured soul.

Echoes of Before

You may remember your entire life, fragmentary pieces, or nothing at all. Each brings you great pain and regret. But it can also bring you strength.

Despite lacking muscles, you have a kind of psychic muscle memory of your past skills and abilities. You may have had great strength of arm, quick wit and skill, arcane power, or some other cliché categorization of capabilities. If you somehow survive the cruelties of the underworld without unraveling and losing almost all of yourself, you might be able to plumb the depths of your past a little deeper, and tease out more of that ability dormant deep within your anguished psyche. Or, you can forsake the past, and follow a new past entirely. Thus may you specialize, or branch out.

Take heart and choose as you will. There are no right or wrong answers. Only slower or faster routes to failure.


And when you do fail, it will hurt. Whether you are defeated in battle, or ensorcelled, or betrayed, you will eventually wind up in the clutches of your tormentors. With luck, your comrades in arms may break you out of whatever hellish holdfast you've been hidden in before it's too late.

Luck is rare. Most likely, you'll unravel at least once in your time away.

When you do, you lose bits of yourself. First your most recently acquired skill go, followed by, memories, and finally the fundaments of your being. Eventually all that will be left is your capacity to register and feel pain.

But each time you unravel, you slip your bonds by dint of vanishing into whimpers and smoke. You'll reappear somewhere close by, but not so close that you won't have a head start running away from your captors before they catch you again. Until next time.

The Tormentors

Demons, evil spirits, torturers, "the neighbors"; all are popular terms that refer to your enemy. Your foe is infinite in shape, number, and depth of sadism, and seemingly unstoppable in the long term. Every loathsome monster you can imagine and many more that you cannot has its place in these hellish ranks.

 Still, they are not invulnerable. They are made of the same wispy stuff that you are, and can thus be disrupted and even 'killed'. Unlike a shade who unravels for a time, most slain demons rejoin with the underworld itself, their essence recycled into some new nightmare, sometimes with lingering memories and abilities, sometimes without. Don't dwell overlong on the implications this has for you shades.

They start off simple-minded and weak, but quickly develop skill, cunning, and individual personality as they express themselves through the suffering of shades. They know how to communicate with you, and will do so mostly to mock or deceive you. They seem to have their own ranks and hierarchies, but who or what is at the top is a mystery.

Your Nemesis

Far more immediate a threat than some unknown dark lord is the demon you know all too well. Perhaps it was your first torturer, or your first 'kill'. Maybe you barely eluded it, enticing it to start the chase. This creature is your Nemesis. You are as free to decide what it looks like as you are to shape your own shade, because it always embodies what you personally find most awful and revolting.

It has no unique power save for its unnerving, intimate familiarity with you. It cannot sense you by some supernatural means, yet it will always find you, sooner or later. It is like a second shadow, always trying to latch onto you. But this familiarity goes both ways. Over time your fear and hate for it will crystallize into wisdom, and the power to exploit its weaknesses.

It would like nothing more than to break you. Break it back.

An End

There is no escaping the underworld- dead is dead. Likewise, you can never defeat your tormentors.

But you can spite them. You can deny them their sadistic purpose and evade capture indefinitely. Alongside your fellow shades, you can create a community and carve out a 'living' for lack of a better word. You can even dare to feel more positive emotions.

There is a legend--probably made up by demons just to give your kind false hope--that one form of escape is possible.

By breaking all fetters and facing one's nemesis with all fear, misery, and even malice scoured from their soul, a shade might collide with it in a manner not unlike matter meeting antimatter. Complete, mutual annihilation ensues. This grants the shade sweet, restful oblivion, but it also forever deprives the underworld of one of its jailers.

A meaningless feat on its own in the face of infinity, but with enough repetition over time...

Possible Origins of the Underworld

The other gods, jealous of the size of the kingdom of the dead, usurped the god of the dead. Your agony is a reagent in the spell used to keep it imprisoned.

Suffering is the fuel for all existence. If the underworld stopped its hellish work, the universe would collapse.

God was pandeistic, and the underworld is a particularly large, rotten piece of its corpse. Tormentors are its maggots.

Some cosmic force is desperately searching for someone special. Only an eon of unraveling will reveal the chosen one.

This is all the nightmare of some fitfully slumbering god.

The underworld is alien in origin. Its creators use it to experiment and collect data on you.

With enough torture, every shade becomes a demon. The denizens of the underworld need you in order to reproduce.

Somewhere deep in the underworld, tortured souls are being forged into an impossibly huge machine of unknown purpose.

This really is a place of punishment. Your unforgivable sin was existing.

This is the real world. You were just dreaming before.

Thursday, February 11, 2021

Mr. Sticks

The World-Spider came, but ahead of it was sent its envoy.

The Spider merely hungers. It does not think. It does not plot. It does not hate. Those are left to Mr. Sticks.

Generally, the World-Spider is antithetical to physical matter and most mundane concepts. The universe bubbles and hisses at its approach, and in its wake it leaves desolation on a metaphysical level. There seems to be no good reason why or how something so loathsomely humanoid could work with and around it, and certainly not for so long. And yet, he does.

Mr. Sticks is the harbinger of the World-Spider. He goes ahead of the Spider to prepare each world and plane for consumption. He is the one who plants the first seeds of the spider cults and acts as their enigmatic high priest. He oversees the elimination of threats to a smooth feast. He is even rumored to act as the Spider's steward and caretaker during its epochs-long slumber in between feeding sessions.

Whatever form he takes while the Spider is at rest is unknown. He is only known by what he chooses to sleeve himself in while walking the worlds populated by recognizably living things. It is commonly believed that the first body is willing. This need not be the case for any subsequent hosts. They can be of any sort or species, but he favors humanoids when they are present. He finds they are the most entertaining to wear.

At present, Mr. Sticks usually resembles an unnaturally tall and gaunt person with bruised and blemished skin of an otherwise whitish pallor. He lacks a face in the conventional sense, though small wrinkles and pinholes that might once have been eyes or a mouth can be seen. Everything is severely desiccated, like the liquid was thoroughly sucked out of him. He needs no mouth to speak, in a voice like a suppurating wound.

He possesses countless bones, but no real joints. When he wishes to move, his bones rapidly break and reform into their new shape, producing the telltale loud tik-a-tik, tik-a-tak sound that heralds his approach. His spine can twist and bend grotesquely before snapping back upright. His arms can coil like ropes, and his legs hold him up at jagged, impossible angles.

This latest form is also his most dapper yet. For reasons known only to Mr. Sticks, he chose to keep the attire of the first human he inhabited this past cycle. It was apparently a very well-to-do person from an industrialized society with a sense for fashion. He wears a dark grey pinstripe suit, bowler hat optional. In other ages, he dressed differently; as an armored knight, a king shrouded in saffron, or completely nude, with all his awful stitches and seams visible.

Mr. Sticks is terribly affable, or at least enjoys pretending to be. Those doomed individuals who have caught his attention can look forward to an extended, pleasant conversation with him before or even while they die- generally in a particular fashion, over a period of time.

He is nearly impossible to kill. He possesses unnatural strength and speed, as well as mastery of stealth and subterfuge. He can hide in plain sight in someone's blind spots, appearing only when he wishes to- when it is too late. While the Spider only eats for sustenance, Mr. Sticks plays with his quarry like a cat toying with a mouse before leaving most of it uneaten. He will track targets for weeks on end, slowly ramping up the paranormal events and horrific hallucinations around them until he decides to end it. In particular he delights in the moment when hope turns to despair, and he will pepper his activities with false hints that he has been defeated or gone forever.

In the unlikely event that he is defeated, the same shriveling of hope into dread happens regardless. Whoever kills the Spider's envoy has the woeful distinction of becoming his next host. Not long after his desiccated corpse stops twitching, the victor will begin to experience headaches, psychosis, internal bleeding, and itching. Several hours to days later, they undergo a painful transformation into the new Mr. Sticks, suit and all. The host is effectively dead by that point- hopefully.

Rumors surrounding Mr. Sticks include

  1. He is actually just a hive mind of eusocial spiders living in a husk.
  2. Perfectly ordinary spiders are his unwitting spies across the world.
  3. Each host's memories are absorbed and used to his advantage.
  4. Burning especially noxious incense keeps him at bay- for a little while, at least.
  5. … So does loud, rapid drumming. This also makes him angrier.
  6. You may communicate with him by speaking his name eight times into a darkened corner.
  7. He is the last thing to die in a world, his host dissolved by acid only for him to rise again.
  8. The silk threads of his suit could be spun to insulate a piece of the world from the Spider.
  9. He has a keepsake on him at all times- a fist-sized piece of insect chitin.
  10. Just knowing about him alerts him to your existence. Tik-a-tik, tik-a-tak...

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

Desolate Days: 40 Special Things

 A random assortment of Special Things one's goblins might encounter and make use of while braving the wide, unwelcoming world.

These are relatively simple, mundane items that might be found or given in a goblin Home. "Primitive", if you must use the word.

Stranger and more wonderous items are sure to exist out there in the wilds. An impossibly rare few might even offer a +2 bonus to certain risk rolls.

d40Special Thing+1 to...
1Air BladderWeakness risks to swim on the surface
2Bag of RocksClumsiness risks to attack things from afar
3Bone NeedleClumsiness risks to mend torn things
4CharcoalNaivete risks to draw coherent images
5Crude InstrumentTimidity risks to perform music
6Facepaint, BlueTimidity checks to be friendly
7Facepaint, RedTimidity checks to be scary
8Fancy LoinclothTimidity checks to flaunt wealth and affluence
9Fermented FruitWeakness risks to ignore pain
10FlintNaivete risks to light fires
11Floppy SandalsClumsiness risks to walk on dangerous terrain
12Frog OilClumsiness risks to avoid getting grabbed/grappled
13Glossy Conch ShellNaivete risks to filter and hear certain sounds
14Greasy SoapTimidity risks not to not smell like a monster
15Gut String CordWeakness risks to detain something
16HammerstoneClumsiness risks to make small stone unspecial things
17Hopping StickWeakness risks to jump long distances
18Hunk of SaltNaivete risks to cook appetizing meals
19Jagged Bone KnifeClumsiness risks to cut things
20Jar of DirtNaivete risks to grow things
21Leaky WaterskinWeakness risks to resist thirst
22Lucky RopeWeakness risks to climb
23Lumpy PillowWeakness risks to sleep on uncomfortable ground
24Monster MuskClumsiness risks to smell like a type of monster
25Old DollTimidity risks to resist fear effects
26Oversized MittensClumsiness risks to hold cold/hot/sharp stuff
27PeaberriesWeakness risks to resist sleeping
28Pet Shriek-FrogNaivete risks to avoid being sneaked up on
29Pincer Bug JewelryTimidity risks to appear tough & cool
30Pocket SandClumsiness risks to blind something
31Priceless Ancient ArtifactWeakness risks to bludgeon things
32Ratty BlanketWeakness risks to resist the cold
33Scribbly MapNaivete risks to avoid getting lost
34Shiny CoinsTimidity risks to barter for goods/services
35Sticky MudClumsiness risks to hide in camouflage
36Stone AxeheadClumsiness risks to make wooden unspecial things
37Stone DrillClumsiness risks to bore holes in things
38Sturdy Stone SpearheadWeakness risks to stab things
39Termite StickNaivete risks to forage for food in the wild
40Worry StoneTimidity risks to soothe existential dread

Saturday, January 30, 2021

Desolate Days: Rudimentary Exploration.

 (A follow-up to my previous post about Desolate Days, in which I make the "game" slightly more than nothing by way of every properly lazy designer's fallback: random tables!)

THE WORLD was shaken to its core by the final victory, subsequent impotent ennui, and eventual explosive suicide of the Dark Lord. Many lands are ephemeral and transitory, rising up out of the sea of dust and discordant music of creation to meet living eyes, only to sink back down into oblivion after their passing. Stable islands stand out in the dust, but they are few and far between.

Because of this, the world cannot be mapped with grids or tiles. You can only know specific points, and their approximate locations relative to one another. Fortunately for goblins, they haven’t invented maps yet, and they lack the specialized language to talk in exact units of measure.

EXPLORATION is the main thrust of the game. Goblin expeditions venture out from recently discovered openings onto the surface to see what the wide, ruined world has in store for them.

The expedition begins on the Home point. This is where cracks in the earth lead down to the goblin vaults. Home is almost always a safe place to rest or resupply, compared to the wilderness. With luck, Home is the beginning and end point of every expedition.

From here, you can Visit Home, Quit and end the expedition, or move Outward to a new Point.

When moving Outward, the referee rolls d6. That is the number of times the referee rolls on the Encounters table. The Encounters can be rolled all at once and ordered how the referee chooses, or they can be rolled one at a time as the goblins overcome them. Every 3 Encounters is a full day of travel. After you navigate all Encounters, roll once on the Points table for a destination.

After arriving at a new Point, you may Explore the Point, move Outward to another Point, or move Homeward to travel back to older Points. All moves may involve Encounters.

Home can have up to 6 Points directly connected to it, like spokes on a wheel, but each of those “spokes” can lead infinitely Outward… or at least as close to infinite as goblins can count.

The sample Encounters below are more like evocative phrases meant to get an idea going. They are open-ended, and should always have multiple different paths to overcoming them. Goblins are encouraged to think of something and roll with it.

Each Point should have a full day or more worth of content if they are delved into. They should also be able to be bypassed if the goblins can't handle it, or if they just really would rather not.

1Uneventful travel, spiced up by “games”.
2The weather turns. It rains dust and discord.
3Dizzying, flashing lights descend on you.
4Swarms of stinging, biting bugs harass you.
5A sick, frightened animal blocks your path.
6Something scurries off with your food.
7That cloud is too low, and moving too fast.
8Something glitters enticingly in the darkness.
9The ground opens up. Something grabs you.
10Voices whisper contradictory orders to you.
11Melancholy and homesickness grip you.
12You swear you’ve been through here already.
13The plants here don’t like intruders.
14A distant figure seems to be following you.
15You meet a friendly goblin expedition!
16You meet an unfriendly goblin expedition.
17An old rock with carved scribbles. Magic!
18Fellow misbegotten monsters from the deep.
19Accidentally wake up shades of Tall Things.
20The Shadow hangs heavily over you all.

1A completely empty dirt field- eerily empty.
2Watering hole with strange and exotic beasts.
3Labyrinthine grasses that sway without wind.
4Old, gnarled, and angry forest.
5Ford across a furious, rocky river.
6Many small, round caves in a cliff face.
7Ancient, iron-studded battlefield.
8Tall, jagged tor of unusual rock for the area.
9Wide, wine-dark lake with a lone island.
10Immense fissure leading deep into the earth.
11Black sand desert pockmarked with ruins.
12Murky, roiling hot springs.
13Solitary, crumbling tower of basalt.
14Frozen tundra with bizarre ice formations.
15Magnetized, floating isles of rock in the air.
16City once belonging to the Tall Things.
17Temple to some dead, forgotten faith.
18Ruins bearing the marks of the old Lord.
19Foreign goblin Home- abandoned.
20Foreign goblin Home- populated!