Aberrant specters osrs

Do variants in the catacombs of kourend count for the aberrant specter and blood bloodveld kills? Doing a pure run and wondering if anyone has tested it and knows the answer

Part 2

I found rather disturbing papers among these historical documents (Part 2)by u/bubblesthshark in scarystories

I discovered the last entry. I first read it the other night after I said I would go to sleep. But as I moved aside one of the boxes to get to my room, I felt its distinct lack of weight, and a soft shifting of the contents inside. There was only this final note. It was bound in twine like the others, but it was bound alongside something else. I don’t want to give too much away so I’ll just get into it.
--------------
It was another wickedly, Wintery day. The last cold snap before the warmth of Spring could blossom. Homer spoke with his brother in between bites of his dinner. His arms no longer moved. Only his face and neck. As Langley fed him, they conversated and listened to a gentle tune on the radio. Peaceful. Content with their situation. Then a breeze crept in through the ragged window. Langley Collyer searched the room for a blanket, or shall. Eventually he settled on an old worn suit jacket that he draped overtop his brother’s arched body. But the suit jacket was not just any incidental coat. No random rag.
It was mine.
From an age long ago. From an age now passed. The jacket I’d worn so often in life now was used to shield the old hermit from the frigid gusts. But the jacket was not what I desired. It was not what kept me bound to this disgraceful domicile. It was the treasure inside. The elder brother looked past the younger, into the conglomerations of possessions long kept. There he saw me. Not with his eyes, for they saw nothing save for blackness, but with his soul.
He knew.
“Langley,” he whispered. “I feel Its presence near. In this very room.”
Langley paused from his task of feeding the old man. He allowed his senses to think for him.
“Is it very close? Will it set off the traps?” he whispered back.
“Does the creature interact with our physical world? Do we even know?”
“How should I act? As if nothing were the matter?”
They discussed for a while. All the time I waited patiently. So patiently. Slowly my emotions harshened as I recalled how many long years I had let them be. I had forgiven them for their sin. But now I could bear it no longer. I had absolved them before by letting them claim ignorance. They did not know what a precious thing they held. But now, as the second brother wore my coat, I knew my dear treasure would soon be found. And once they knew, if they dared discard it again to be treated like rubbish, like just another of their possessions, they would truly feel my wrath.
Langley leaned in closer to Homer. In doing so he pushed the trinket into his brother’s rib and Homer winced.
“Langley,” he said. “There’s something in the pocket.”
He fished it out, and lifted it to the light for a better view.
“It’s only…a locket.”
Langley Collyer now openly looked at me, at the shape of a man now passed on, but not quite. Then back down at the trinket. A beautifully ornate bronze shell. Then inside were the ticking, moving watch hands. He saw the source of my affection and devotion. Her majesty and grace. Crafted by God so delicate in detail and radiant to see. Now I knew the old man understood. Now he knew why I lingered and spied on them.
“This is the source of the trouble? Only this?” he asked me.
Only this? I thought. My anger returned, only much more vicious. How foolish could this pair be? I had given them far too many chances. If they did not—
Into the fire my dear, treasure flew. Into the flames of the filthy hearth. But not for long. In my asperity and indignation, I flew into a frenzy. A torrent of violent, frosty thralls swept through the room. They blew out the fire. They blew away papers and refuse. They blew away my coat from the shoulders of the paralyzed miser.
“What is happening?” he cried.
“I tried to destroy it. To banish the demon away!”
But I was no demon. I was the ghost of a life long gone. And Langley’s aberration had only served to cement my place in this world. I could not pass on without the assurance that what I held dearest in life would be taken care of after death, that her radiance would live on.
I died in that jacket. At first I followed the locket. Hidden in the pocket of my coat. I witnessed it as it was auctioned away with my estate. Little more than a breeze at the time, I was unseen and could not alter reality. I could only see. Only pray.
But when that wicked old hoarder had purchased me, back when his legs still moved, I followed him home and watched as he cast my jacket aside. Immediately, without second thought, onto a pile near the door. For years I lay dormant, awaiting the moment they recognized their misdeed. And as my patience dissolved, I grew more attached to this reality. More determined to shape it. No longer a specter unseen, I was now a shadow, a flicker in the corner of an eye. They began to notice me. They began to whisper about my existence. Slowly I became more and more close to matter. And I became less and less able to neglect.
But they did neglect me. I was bound to the locket, and bound to the first floor. They moved upstairs and refused to see me. Until the day came. The fateful, frosty day. Langley was on his way to the market, as he did only once a month. But as he opened the grand door, and the gales pierced his shirt, he realized he was ill-dressed for the cold. He grabbed the first thing he saw; my coat. So I followed him. Only he saw me. Only he knew to look. I trailed him through the city and through the crowds. My first look outside the den of degeneracy in years.
Then he returned home, and found his crippled brother asleep on the floor. As he went to make the fire that night, he took off my coat and set it aside. So close…but again I despaired that perhaps they would never notice it.
I grew impatient. Days later I watched as Homer slept. I was more than I was before. No longer just a shadow in the distance, or a motion in the periphery. And though his vision was faded, he looked at me directly. He fired his gun right through me, where my head would have been. But I was still not a part of this reality, not fully at least.
It was Langley’s abrasive action. His despicable attempt to rid himself of me without care that finally shaped me into what I am now. As the torrent of winds died down, the old man whose eyes still worked took his arm away from his face to see me and finally behold me. I was now in the shape of a man. The man I was in life. Only the faint shadows of my outline could give away my true identity. Langley stammered and stepped backwards. He did not pay any attention to his surroundings. If he had, perhaps he would not have tripped his trap.
An avalanche of heavy trash fell onto him. It pinned him tightly to the ground. He did not die, but he could not move. His brother cried out to him. He asked what had happened. I moved towards the old man in the chair, and for the first time truly touched him. I pulled my coat from his shoulders. That was when I realized that I could now mold my surroundings.
Quickly, I recovered my treasure from the hearth. It showed no signs of damage. It was not in the flames long enough before they were extinguished. For a while I stood there admiring it. And simultaneously I wondered what to do next. I knew this form would not last forever, it was only a symptom of my devotion and anger. So I got to work.
As Langley choked for air, and pleaded for assistance, I searched the stacks for blank paper. I sat at a desktop and shoved the litter atop it onto the floor. I have written these pages for the next owner to find. So that they know, not only what I desire, but what will befall them if they fail to heed my instruction. I have written these pages to detail every extent of misery I have felt and witnessed. I begin with this final page. I will add more, as many more as I can manage in my time in this form. I will paint every excruciating moment that I had to endure but could never speak of.
For you see now is my opportunity. I can now plainly admit to the wickedest of my actions. With what little influence I had in this world, I worsened the decay of the old cripple’s condition. I turned his muscles black and tough as brimstone. And now I sit and watch, jubilant, as the two sob and plead.
Langley will go first. If he is fortunate he will asphyxiate and die prone underneath the pile. Homer will not be so lucky. With no one to care for him, and no ability to do so alone, he will starve or freeze. He will die there in front of his fireplace. And only feet from his brother. They will have time to talk; maybe hours, maybe days. They can say their goodbyes, and make amends for their past. But they can do nothing to change their fate. One entombed in the physical embodiment of a lifetime of greed, and the other trapped in his own corpse, incapable of moving or seeing. They will die alone. Surrounded by their collection. And they will understand what it cost them.
Now I speak directly to you, reader. I do not know when you will find these papers. I pray only that they will not be thrown out when the home is searched. But assuming you read these final words, assuming you have taken in my full testimony, just know. I will have been watching you do so the whole time. And if you choose to follow the same path of the Collyer Brothers, I will not be as kind.
—------------
That was the end. I turned my attention from the page to the trinket bound to it in the box; an old, antique locket. I looked up from my work and saw the apparition. Not in my periphery but straight on, as Homer did in his bed. I nodded to him, and he nodded back. Then I opened the locket to see the watch, but I found something else as well. She was as he described the source of his affection and devotion. Her majesty and grace. Crafted by God so delicate in detail and radiant to see.
He did not mean the watch, or the locket, but the picture inside, and the woman within it. The image was old and monotone. It was a wedding photo of a handsome groom and his beautiful bride. The man smiled brightly as his new wife kissed him on the cheek. A moment captured in time. The greatest moment of a life, held dear even after the life was gone. I understood.
Without breaking my gaze on the photo I said, “I will look after this. I will take good care of it. Tomorrow I will take it to a friend who does restoration. He will be delicate.”
But when I looked up, I saw no apparition. I only felt a soft breeze pass me. A gentle warm breeze which shifted the hair at my shoulders, and left through my open window.
I did not lie to him. I will uphold my promise. I will wear this locket every day of my life. I will do so with honor, whether he sees it or not.
I do not fear the Ghost of the Groom. I know what he wanted. I know how to act.
What I fear is the two shadows I see now in the corner of my eye. One standing. One sitting. Because I do not know what they want.

Part 2

The Collyer Brothers Records(Part 2)

I discovered the last entry. I first read it the other night after I said I would go to sleep. But as I moved aside one of the boxes to get to my room, I felt its distinct lack of weight, and a soft shifting of the contents inside. There was only this final note. It was bound in twine like the others, but it was bound alongside something else. I don’t want to give too much away so I’ll just get into it.
--------------
It was another wickedly, Wintery day. The last cold snap before the warmth of Spring could blossom. Homer spoke with his brother in between bites of his dinner. His arms no longer moved. Only his face and neck. As Langley fed him, they conversated and listened to a gentle tune on the radio. Peaceful. Content with their situation. Then a breeze crept in through the ragged window. Langley Collyer searched the room for a blanket, or shall. Eventually he settled on an old worn suit jacket that he draped overtop his brother’s arched body. But the suit jacket was not just any incidental coat. No random rag.
It was mine.
From an age long ago. From an age now passed. The jacket I’d worn so often in life now was used to shield the old hermit from the frigid gusts. But the jacket was not what I desired. It was not what kept me bound to this disgraceful domicile. It was the treasure inside. The elder brother looked past the younger, into the conglomerations of possessions long kept. There he saw me. Not with his eyes, for they saw nothing save for blackness, but with his soul.
He knew.
“Langley,” he whispered. “I feel Its presence near. In this very room.”
Langley paused from his task of feeding the old man. He allowed his senses to think for him.
“Is it very close? Will it set off the traps?” he whispered back.
“Does the creature interact with our physical world? Do we even know?”
“How should I act? As if nothing were the matter?”
They discussed for a while. All the time I waited patiently. So patiently. Slowly my emotions harshened as I recalled how many long years I had let them be. I had forgiven them for their sin. But now I could bear it no longer. I had absolved them before by letting them claim ignorance. They did not know what a precious thing they held. But now, as the second brother wore my coat, I knew my dear treasure would soon be found. And once they knew, if they dared discard it again to be treated like rubbish, like just another of their possessions, they would truly feel my wrath.
Langley leaned in closer to Homer. In doing so he pushed the trinket into his brother’s rib and Homer winced.
“Langley,” he said. “There’s something in the pocket.”
He fished it out, and lifted it to the light for a better view.
“It’s only…a locket.”
Langley Collyer now openly looked at me, at the shape of a man now passed on, but not quite. Then back down at the trinket. A beautifully ornate bronze shell. Then inside were the ticking, moving watch hands. He saw the source of my affection and devotion. Her majesty and grace. Crafted by God so delicate in detail and radiant to see. Now I knew the old man understood. Now he knew why I lingered and spied on them.
“This is the source of the trouble? Only this?” he asked me.
Only this? I thought. My anger returned, only much more vicious. How foolish could this pair be? I had given them far too many chances. If they did not—
Into the fire my dear, treasure flew. Into the flames of the filthy hearth. But not for long. In my asperity and indignation, I flew into a frenzy. A torrent of violent, frosty thralls swept through the room. They blew out the fire. They blew away papers and refuse. They blew away my coat from the shoulders of the paralyzed miser.
“What is happening?” he cried.
“I tried to destroy it. To banish the demon away!”
But I was no demon. I was the ghost of a life long gone. And Langley’s aberration had only served to cement my place in this world. I could not pass on without the assurance that what I held dearest in life would be taken care of after death, that her radiance would live on.
I died in that jacket. At first I followed the locket. Hidden in the pocket of my coat. I witnessed it as it was auctioned away with my estate. Little more than a breeze at the time, I was unseen and could not alter reality. I could only see. Only pray.
But when that wicked old hoarder had purchased me, back when his legs still moved, I followed him home and watched as he cast my jacket aside. Immediately, without second thought, onto a pile near the door. For years I lay dormant, awaiting the moment they recognized their misdeed. And as my patience dissolved, I grew more attached to this reality. More determined to shape it. No longer a specter unseen, I was now a shadow, a flicker in the corner of an eye. They began to notice me. They began to whisper about my existence. Slowly I became more and more close to matter. And I became less and less able to neglect.
But they did neglect me. I was bound to the locket, and bound to the first floor. They moved upstairs and refused to see me. Until the day came. The fateful, frosty day. Langley was on his way to the market, as he did only once a month. But as he opened the grand door, and the gales pierced his shirt, he realized he was ill-dressed for the cold. He grabbed the first thing he saw; my coat. So I followed him. Only he saw me. Only he knew to look. I trailed him through the city and through the crowds. My first look outside the den of degeneracy in years.
Then he returned home, and found his crippled brother asleep on the floor. As he went to make the fire that night, he took off my coat and set it aside. So close…but again I despaired that perhaps they would never notice it.
I grew impatient. Days later I watched as Homer slept. I was more than I was before. No longer just a shadow in the distance, or a motion in the periphery. And though his vision was faded, he looked at me directly. He fired his gun right through me, where my head would have been. But I was still not a part of this reality, not fully at least.
It was Langley’s abrasive action. His despicable attempt to rid himself of me without care that finally shaped me into what I am now. As the torrent of winds died down, the old man whose eyes still worked took his arm away from his face to see me and finally behold me. I was now in the shape of a man. The man I was in life. Only the faint shadows of my outline could give away my true identity. Langley stammered and stepped backwards. He did not pay any attention to his surroundings. If he had, perhaps he would not have tripped his trap.
An avalanche of heavy trash fell onto him. It pinned him tightly to the ground. He did not die, but he could not move. His brother cried out to him. He asked what had happened. I moved towards the old man in the chair, and for the first time truly touched him. I pulled my coat from his shoulders. That was when I realized that I could now mold my surroundings.
Quickly, I recovered my treasure from the hearth. It showed no signs of damage. It was not in the flames long enough before they were extinguished. For a while I stood there admiring it. And simultaneously I wondered what to do next. I knew this form would not last forever, it was only a symptom of my devotion and anger. So I got to work.
As Langley choked for air, and pleaded for assistance, I searched the stacks for blank paper. I sat at a desktop and shoved the litter atop it onto the floor. I have written these pages for the next owner to find. So that they know, not only what I desire, but what will befall them if they fail to heed my instruction. I have written these pages to detail every extent of misery I have felt and witnessed. I begin with this final page. I will add more, as many more as I can manage in my time in this form. I will paint every excruciating moment that I had to endure but could never speak of.
For you see now is my opportunity. I can now plainly admit to the wickedest of my actions. With what little influence I had in this world, I worsened the decay of the old cripple’s condition. I turned his muscles black and tough as brimstone. And now I sit and watch, jubilant, as the two sob and plead.
Langley will go first. If he is fortunate he will asphyxiate and die prone underneath the pile. Homer will not be so lucky. With no one to care for him, and no ability to do so alone, he will starve or freeze. He will die there in front of his fireplace. And only feet from his brother. They will have time to talk; maybe hours, maybe days. They can say their goodbyes, and make amends for their past. But they can do nothing to change their fate. One entombed in the physical embodiment of a lifetime of greed, and the other trapped in his own corpse, incapable of moving or seeing. They will die alone. Surrounded by their collection. And they will understand what it cost them.
Now I speak directly to you, reader. I do not know when you will find these papers. I pray only that they will not be thrown out when the home is searched. But assuming you read these final words, assuming you have taken in my full testimony, just know. I will have been watching you do so the whole time. And if you choose to follow the same path of the Collyer Brothers, I will not be as kind.
—------------
That was the end. I turned my attention from the page to the trinket bound to it in the box; an old, antique locket. I looked up from my work and saw the apparition. Not in my periphery but straight on, as Homer did in his bed. I nodded to him, and he nodded back. Then I opened the locket to see the watch, but I found something else as well. She was as he described the source of his affection and devotion. Her majesty and grace. Crafted by God so delicate in detail and radiant to see.
He did not mean the watch, or the locket, but the picture inside, and the woman within it. The image was old and monotone. It was a wedding photo of a handsome groom and his beautiful bride. The man smiled brightly as his new wife kissed him on the cheek. A moment captured in time. The greatest moment of a life, held dear even after the life was gone. I understood.
Without breaking my gaze on the photo I said, “I will look after this. I will take good care of it. Tomorrow I will take it to a friend who does restoration. He will be delicate.”
But when I looked up, I saw no apparition. I only felt a soft breeze pass me. A gentle warm breeze which shifted the hair at my shoulders, and left through my open window.
I did not lie to him. I will uphold my promise. I will wear this locket every day of my life. I will do so with honor, whether he sees it or not.
I do not fear the Ghost of the Groom. I know what he wanted. I know how to act.
What I fear is the two shadows I see now in the corner of my eye. One standing. One sitting. Because I do not know what they want.

I was reflecting on the adventures I'm using in my current sandbox and wrote the post below. I don't think I am still able to nail down the exact categories - and its hard to generalize - but this could be a start. Contains affiliate links and I mention my own module by the end.
https://methodsetmadness.blogspot.com/2023/04/comfort-color-contrast-three-types-of.html
---
I've been running an old-school sandbox and using modules from multiple games, including DCC, LotFP, BFRPG, and others. I realized the modules I've been reading illustrate three different approaches to fantasy adventures that I think are worth discussing.
But notice these are generalizations: there are no "perfectly vanilla" adventures, etc. Almost every adventure will contain something familiar AND something new AND something sensible AND something weird.
​
Vanilla adventures
These are the most common. Here are some characteristics:
- They are predictable in terms of monsters, traps and treasure. You'll face skeletons and goblins (or worse, orcs), find a few swords +1 and a reasonable amount of gold and gems. Maybe there are elves and dwarves to help you. Hopefully, the challenges are also balanced to your current level. You'll know most of your enemies upon seeing them, etc.
- Because of that, they are familiar: if you have been playing D&D for a long time, you'll feel right at home. They contain the usual tropes.
- They are often convenient: you'll find a cleric and a mage in every city, shopkeepers have enough gold to buy the stuff you've found, etc.
- They are often, but not always, disjointed - the skeletons and goblins are standing in adjacent rooms with no clear explanation. Maybe there is a tribe of kobolds nearby, some giant bats, and a trap that was set by someone time forgot. There might be no clear reason why the dungeons were built or why they are full of corridors and doors with no rhyme or reason.
The key word here is comfort. You're used to this stuff and you can play with little effort. BFRPG adventures like Morganstfort and Chaotic Caves are good examples, but so are many classic D&D adventures (including the ones that inspired these BFRPG modules, such as Keep on the Borderlands and Caves of Chaos). These are also common D&D 5e (e.g. Lost Mines...; also, here is one example of a 3pp) and every other edition of D&D.
The danger here is boredom. If there is nothing new except successive rooms of goblins, skeletons and giant animals, every adventure starts looking the same.
​
Weird adventures
Weird adventures are related to weird fantasy. They are:
- Unpredictable in terms of monsters, traps and treasure. You might find creatures you had never seen elsewhere, even if they fit some previous frame (e.g., the Law versus Chaos dichotomy). Even the environments may be entirely new. There might be technology, aliens and time travel involved. Mutations are common. You don't necessarily know what to do when you face a given creature or challenge, and running might be the best option.
- In this sense, the things you'll encounter will also be unfamiliar.
- They might be as disjointed and as convenient as vanilla fantasy. However, weirdness can become very inconvenient for the GM, if running a long campaign. Introducing time-travel and alien weaponry will have bigger effects on your setting than your "sword +1" from vanilla modules.
The key word here is color. There is shiny new stuff in every corner. Most DCC modules I've run are like that (here is one example). Some LotFP modules are all-out weird (think Carcosa - even the characters have unusual colors!). A classic example from D&D might be Expedition to the Barrier Peaks.
The danger here is randomness. Things stop making sense, knowledge becomes obsolete (why learn about trolls if every monster is different), etc. If everything is fantastical, then nothing surprises you anymore.
​
Grounded adventures
For the lack of a better name, I call them grounded as they are "grounded in reality". These adventures are:
- Extremely familiar (at the start) as they are not based in fantasy (not even popular fantasy), but historical (or pseudo-historical) reality. Instead of dwarves and elves, you have knights, lords and peasants - mostly peasants.
- Unpredictable in terms of monsters, traps and treasure - not only because these can be different, but also because they might be absent. Maybe some of the monsters are just humans in disguise, or there is a single monster in the whole adventure. The treasure may be ordinary (painting, books, etc.) instead of magical.
- They are coherent: there is usually an explanation for the monsters, traps and treasure you'll find.
- They create more inconveniences for PCs as clerics and mages might be harder to find, adventurers are not necessarily well-respected, and the authorities exist and might react to law-breakers accordingly.
Now, you could describe your GURPS, Hârn or maybe even Game of Thrones campaign as "realistic", "historical", "sensible", etc. And, even in vanilla modules, you will have ordinary keeps, castles, soldiers, etc.
But I'm also using LotFP modules, which start on an ordinary setting and then throw the PCs into a well of weirdness. The key word here is contrast: in the middle of an ordinary village, there is a giant blob monster (example). Or: the Swedish army is coming to Karlstadt... and the city has been already been invaded by strange creatures you've never seen anywhere (Better Than Any Man).
This way, you make the fantastic more special by internal contrast. Conversely, in "weird" adventures, everything is fantastical, and the fun comes from contrasting it with more familiar modules.
A strange example from 5e might be Curse of Strahd. The scarceness of fantastic creatures (goblins, dragons, aberrations, etc.) and the repetitive nature of the foes (mostly undead, witches and werewolves) enhance the weirdness of Strahd and the castle, making it more than a mere vampire in a random dungeon room - which, BTW, is why the whole thing was created in the first place.
The danger here is monotony. Are we even playing fantasy games if there is nothing fantastical about it? Do we play these games to fight monsters or to battle starving peasants?
I've run games of "cops and robbers" before, but I find games with fantastical features much more fun (which might be one of the reasons so many people play D&D and even most GURPS books involve large amounts of fantasy). These features are not necessarily dragons and spells: you could have weird technology, time travel, zombies, deities, super-powers, etc.
​
Which one is better?
I realize that by merely reading this post you might think I prefer weird/grounded adventures to the more "vanilla" stuff. I do think vanilla, by itself, becomes a bit boring for me as a GM after a while - although I've seen PCs have fun with it, as it is comfortable. So yes, I'm a bit tired of the same old clichés - but I do not think vanilla is bad "per se" (and I still use vanilla adventures).
I think it is one flavor that you can mix with others for great results. Maybe you give it a coherent take (see GURPS Banestorm) or use the vanilla as a basis to throw an unexpected contrast at your players (e.g., inserting a spaceship in the middle of an otherwise vanilla campaign). Or vary a little so things do not get stale. As noticed above, I'm using many different kinds of adventures in my sandbox, and I think this keeps things fresh. I already used more vanilla BFRPG stuff, but also LotFP and DCC, and they interact in interesting ways.
Familiarity, coherence, novelty, sensibility, etc., are qualities that can be inserted into any adventure.
My own adventure tries to use a bit of each ingredient: you have the (more or less) familiar demons and imps, but no goblins, orcs or skeletons. The hive-inspired shape of the dungeon has a reason, but it probably looks different than most dungeons. There are peasants and clerics, but also mutants and insect-people - and they all have a reason, or at least a justification, to be where they are.
But mixing it all is only one possible solution. Many of the adventures mentioned above lean heavily on one of these aspects, and do great things with it. And these are not, of course, measures of quality. There are many things I look in a module: organization, novelty, usefulness, coherence, etc.
"Weird", "vanilla" and "realistic" are just flavors - everyone has their tastes, but you can have superb ice cream with all kinds of ingredients.

I have ideas about what If dredge have DLC and is longer, there will be more place and puzzle to face, more mechanics to use, more monster and enemies to face and sometimes defeat both mortal and supernatural. Discover baubles and treasure guarded by doom days cult, bloodthirsty pirate, restless specter of drowned buccaneer, warmongering admiral and hostile monster of the deep.
Here​ ​some of my thoughts
Svellhold peninsula : Scandinavian style frozen water with all kind of cold water arctic fish to catch, discover ancient Viking ruins and what accursed bargain Nordic King of by gone era has done with eldritch horror of the deep. Avoid staying still near old Viking keep or a boulder or two will be hurling towards your ship by trebuchet that shouldn't work any more and noone around to control it. Navigate through treacherous and flooded stronghold of the old time and hauled up motherlode of ruinous relic. Do not try to sail in the night because the restless longboat still set sail in the fog of the past and avoid the relentless assault from the frostfin catfish.
Pillage bay : a massive half flooded ghetto and slum full of unruly freebooter. These hardened criminal of the sea hold several secrets that no man should know. In the day beware the pirate with power boat and machine gun who aimed to rob you out of your fortune and life, ungraded some weaponry to fought back these scoundrel and make them rue the day they chosen the life of crime, these mortal man with no moral cannot be banish by spell due their earthly and mundane nature while at night, the more supernatural horror start to rear it's ugly head when ghastly galleon ship straight out of Victorian era emerged from watery grave and more than ready to send you to Davies Jones locker with barrage of preternatural cannonball. Fish for tropical and valuable species, seeking sunken ill gotten gain and get your bounty for ever modern pirate you defeat. And maybe you can do some rum running side business in floating rum line before authority catch you red handed.
Starving Weald : journey into more intense cousins of twisted strand, deep inside dense jungle lies several treasure and valuable fish but beware several aquatic and amphibious species that can be dangerous even with fully upgraded vessel. Crocodile and Anaconda are mundane danger that can be killed while blight leaper, vilefin goonch and ordnance toucan are supernatural one and can be banished. Help local people survive against ever hungry cannibal tribe corrupted by eldritch power seeking to consume anything in their path and activate the beacon of hope to free tribesmen from influence of the old evil.
Stricken Harbour : not only the sea life that has become aberration, people of the once thriving port has become affected by ever changing and mutating malicious power from the deep. Help mayor of the town discover and stop the ruinous power beneath the surface before everyone in this doomed dockyard become fish monster. Find the cure, call the authority and do anything in your power to keep their humanity before it's too late, be on the rush because every mission here is timed mission. It's Innsmouth time.
Tension water : power of madness is not conquering humanity unopposed, meet the paranoid and aggressive fleet admiral who have gone coo coo for Coco puffs after he learned the dark truth of verminous horror of the ocean. The cannons are ready and all advanced weaponry is ready to slay any giant beast from the deep but the danger within is still there and tension get skyrocketed when the man marine get his hand on atomic bomb, a weapon of mass extinction that he believes is the only thing that can save his nation from beast from below. Stop that mad military man before everything is gone by the might of his own hand. Secure the powerful weapon, slay sea monster of all shape and size while keep your bloodthirsty tendency on check, each monster killed will pushed you further into extremist ideal and you slowly become monster that you fought. Is it the justified cause? Or it's just windmill politics for power hungry junta. You can also dynamite fishing in this area too.
Choose your favourite y'all
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Disclaimer: this is my first exploration in creative writing. Heavily dips into headcannon, based on the Deathwatch campaign I am GMing. Open to constructive criticism! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FOR THE EYES OF LORD INQUISITOR LUCAS GORMAN ALONE
Official Inquisitorial Account of the CODENAME: “Bloody Secrets” Event Source: Jericho Reach Ordo Xenos Militant Cells, CODENAME: “Oculi Conjuncta”, CODENAME: “Aglis Noctis” Compiled and Edited by Inquisitor Vyctyr Adeimantius
Editor’s Note: My Lord Gorman, I do not wish to leap to conclusions but I truly believe your decision to trust Chaplain Vigilant’s judgement in picking the members of these two kill teams has yielded noteworthy results upon their first meeting. The following document is my account of one such result. It is not my place to draw your conclusions for you, my lord, yet if the records of Apothecary Sacrum Osvidit are to be believed it would seem that your speculations on the Black Templar’s Omophagea are confirmed to an almost alarming degree of specificity. Chaplain Vigilant’s preternatural insight extends to more than his teambuilding skills as well. The Jaya system was remarkable enough; a single star system capable of hosting a hive world as well as an industrial world, agricultural world, and resource world is practically unheard of as you know. Even without six millennia of the Imperial Tithe the Jaya system has managed its assets remarkably well. Additionally, I can now confirm that the fierce adherence of the human population to the Imperial Creed despite almost six thousand years of separation and over two hundred years of Tau occupation is nothing short of miraculous. Yet the hive planet of Jaya Tertium is still even more intriguing. Lord Gorman, Vigilant was not lying to us! There actually is an ancient Remembrancer archive buried near the southern pole of Jaya Tertium bearing the markings of the 22nd Expedition Fleet. What’s more my lord, the recovered archives all date from before the Edict of Obliteration. As you instructed, I shall wait until our next rendezvous to examine the contents with you. I understand the dire importance of this discovery as well as it’s need for secrecy, though I must confess the latter I am less and less convinced I fully comprehend. You were right to undermine my confidence in history, as I should have known. I hope your investigations on Myalo are no less fruitful. May the Emperor guide and protect you, my Lord.
Yours, Inquisitor Vyctyr Adeimantius
4230821.M41
Chapter 1: Serpents on the Mount
For the first time in his memory, Sacrum wishes he could be furious. With over a century of service in the Black Templars, the single-minded manic inferno of his fury was never more than a thought away. His hypno-conditioned sense of moral righteousness would have it no other way, nor would his training nor his chapter. 10,000 years of eternal extermination warfare had long ago weeded out those Templars incapable of fueling their Crusade with the most scale-able energy source known to 41st Millennium humanity: thoughtless, unconditional, cultivated hate.
Yet today, as they make their amphibious march up the most mercilessly steep segment of the Rattletail River deep in the Commarkian mountains, Sacrum finds himself unable to take refuge in the one emotion most familiar to him since his elevation into the Astartes. Where there should be the live wire of his raw anger he feels only shame, where there should be certainty he feels only doubt.
Shame is one thing, a necessary indicator of where improvement is necessary. Shame had been an ever-present specter in his training and before. However Sacrum Osvidit, a Black Templars apothecary seconded to the Deathwatch kill team Oculi Conjuncta, can not remember the last time he felt any doubt. Until today, doubt was merely another abstract concept meant for those of weaker faith to endure and for those like him to look down upon in contempt. Doubt was a cracked foundation in the fortresses of others, lessers, and for his entire life Sacrum had seen such cracks from the polished parapets mounted atop his bastion of faith-born certainty; faith in both the Imperium and in his chapter.
Now he feels like that bastion had erupted from within; it's ammo stores sabotaged and everything from it's foundations to it's walls to their defenders flung to the caprice of fate, left to rise or sink in the clutching rubble-strewn mud of historical mystery and ancient lies.
The saboteur responsible is no mystery to Sacrum, though as he marches against the rapid mountain waters' current he finds himself wondering if he would be in less agony if the culprit was unknown.
"Vigilant," he growls into his helmet, "if even one letter of your words prove false I swear your skull shall hang from my trophy rack right next to those I severed from other lying, traitorous necks."
"Your vox link is on and open Sacrum," replied the too-calm voice of their squad leader Bohemund, " and the Codex Astartes heavily discourages the claiming of trophies from corrupt foes, I do not care how much of the flesh you boiled away. Not to mention threatening our squad's chaplain."
On any other day this would have triggered an argument between the Ultramarine and Sacrum, but today Sacrum was too caught up in far deeper vexations than the gilded Tyrannic War Veteran could inspire. There is nothing firm for his anger to get a hold of aside from his newfound uncertainties, and Bohemund isn't responsible for those. The blackshield chaplain named Vigilant and their duel is the source, or rather the words Vigilant had said during the duel.
Sacrum's jaw clenches even tighter as the mundanity of the march pushes his focus from the task at hand inexorably back on the conflict raging within his heart. The memories flow from the ache in his mind like blood from crushed armor, weeping around the formerly solid assumptions and beliefs that had bound and defined him for so long. He feels himself quietly weeping too, the normally dry parchment of the innumerable prayer seals which cover his skull like the bandages of a burn victim are clinging to his cheeks in the damp embrace of a mourner at a mutual comrade's funeral.
Sacrum's mind recalls the scene with the painfully unwanted gene-enhanced accuracy of a marine built to remember every detail of engagements that could last days or weeks. Vigilant stripped to his Black Carapace, his lithe yet powerful body so toned that Sacrum can not only see the Chaplain's pulse in each vein but could identify which pulse was pushed by the primary or secondary heart of his foe. Sacrum could remember every movement of the superlative combatant, most of the transhuman's face however is mercifully blurred by what the Black Templar tells himself is the anguish of the moment. The memory of those simultaneously sad and taunting blue-green eyes that almost sparkled beneath a thundercloud brow are more than what Sacrum wants anyway, but on top of that he endures the echos of Vigilant's rhetorical blows too.
"Ah, the 'fearless' Black Templar demonstrates he has but one fear left: failure to fulfill his duty. Sigismund would be proud!" The words sear him as much with their unfathomed implications as with the recency of the humbling duel. Had Vigilant really been sealed in the Omega Vault so long that he could have known Sigismund?
The chaplain certainly knew Sigismund's words, and had even accepted Sacrum's challenge with a grin and the quote "Peace is a vain wish." In fact, Vigilant had even spent the first minute of the duel reciting the words Sigismund spoke to the Templars at the first gate to Terra;
"What was that wondrous speech your first Chapter Master said? -
'We began in ignorance, fighting a war we did not understand against weapons we had never dreamt existed. We were unready, we were vulnerable, we were weak. But in those moments our enemies gave us strength. The strength to live, to rise from the bloody fields, to march on but not to fall: all of this is ours now, and was not ours before.'

• Glorious, noble words. But did you know that Sigismund died still in ignorance? Not ignorance of the war he fought or it's enemies and their weapons, but ignorance of himself. This was due to no fault of his own, rather his ignorance was yet one more way Sigismund lived a life of naught but his duty. Now here we thrust and parry over ten thousand years later and, for the first time in ten millennia, duty shall require a Black Templar to learn about his past instead of forget it."

Sacrum recites his favorite Litany of the Purged Soul, but even this is not enough to keep him from picking apart the duel for the thousandth time in the last dozen hours. He knew that his knife work was the best it had ever been, he had only improved since joining the Deathwatch, and yet Vigilant beat him easily. The chaplain hadn't even toyed with Sacrum, if anything he took pains to make his superiority an undeniable force that seized control of the duel before the knives were even out. The blackshield had chosen to duel unarmored while insisting Sacrum remained in his suit. Even with his power armor enhancing his strength and speed, the Chaplain never let a single blow through his guard. Vigilant had clearly anticipated the challenge as well as a way to turn it into an unmistakable message to the rest of the Deathwatch marines on Jaya Tertium:
"Challenging me is not only not a problem; it's why I selected you for this mission. Yet know that if you turn against me in earnest you will die for it."
Sacrum doesn't know precisely when, or how, the blow was struck but the duel ended with the Chaplain's dagger buried to the hilt in the Black Templar's power pack. His armor a disabled and joint-locked burden, Sacrum fell to the floor with a roar. He heard and felt the dagger slide from his power pack with a yank, and felt himself turned over on his back with an infuriatingly tangible sense of respectfully patient carefulness. Vigilant's voice boomed loud enough to be heard through his helmet despite the powerless vox system, "All I seek, Oculi Conjuncta, is to reunite the Imperium with the rest of itself; to end this nightmarish age of shattered vision and moribund purpose, to free us all from the paralyzing and powerless stagnation we find ourselves locked within."
The chaplain then propped Sacrum's torso up in a sitting position against some piece of rockcrete rubble, and removed the lifeless helmet so the apothecary could look him in the face. Though Vigilant's movements were slow and deliberate, his reflexes were more than enough to catch Sacrum's burning spit in the helmet. The rest of the kill team had audibly gasped in surprise at Sacrum's unarmored head, for it was almost entirely covered in purity seals and prayer parchments that had been affixed directly to the Black Templar's skull. This was the first time his squadmates, his closest brothers in arms over the last six months, had seen his unhelmeted head. Vigilant's expression remained a paradox of conflicting emotions, this time both admiration and pity twinkled from his eyes like sunlight on a wind-tossed lake as he left the helmet with it's owner and stepped back out of spittle range. Though he was full of defiance, Sacrum respected tradition too much to deny the duel's victor the closing remarks. Besides, his fury had already pushed him far past speech anyways.
"I can feel your hatred for me Sacrum," the chaplain had said before shattering everything Sacrum believed was unbreakable, "I feel the same way about myself from time to time. The things I have done, the lives I have claimed, I would have to be insane to not hate myself even though I did it all in His name and would do it again at His word. Perhaps I was made to hate myself; for it is this self hatred which allows me to feel that you, Sacrum, you too hold a hatred for yourself so secret you are not even aware of it. Just look at how you've buried your humanity under that wig of scribbled parchment and wax!" Vigilant then held the flat side of his dagger blade in front of Sacrum's face so he could see his reflection in the plasteel, "Is this the face of a human being in harmony with their humanity, or the mask of a being who sees their humanity as a failure to live up to misanthropic standards long ago detached from the success of our species? The answer is self evident Sacrum, self evident to anyone with the strength to look and see for themselves." Sacrum had never before had his faith interrogated like this, and even though Vigilant is a blackshield he is also an Astartes Chaplain. Here was an established authority on Imperial faith telling him the faith the Black Templars taught him was misplaced! He was now clenching his jaw so tight he could taste the blood pooling up from the gums around his molars, despite his loathing for Vigilant the words were cutting him deeper than he ever knew he could be cut.
Vigilant sheathed his dagger and stood at attention as his armoring servitors began to rebuild his suit of artificer power armor around him. He paused as the skull-helm covered his enragingly compassionate eyes, then continued to speak through the skull-helm's vox casters while the half-dead slaves completed their data-wafer commanded tasks, "If I want anything from you Sacrum, it is for you to use me to strengthen yourself by building your faith on far firmer foundations than your fear of failure and your hatred of human weakness. You were made to defend humanity, not condescend to the human species, so your faith should be built on respect for humanity and love for human beings. Instead your faith is based in contradictions even hypo-conditioning cannot fully hide from you, and though your conscious mind may not have yet identified these contradictions the rest of you is not so blind. You're told to hate weakness and yet you were made to defend and even die for those weaker than you, you're told to purge the genetic aberrant and yet you're a weapon of gene-science yourself just like the weapons who caused the Heresy. So long as you accept these enfeebling paradoxes without question your strength will be restrained far beneath it's full potential, which was the point of incepting those paradoxical imperatives into the Templars in the first place 10k years ago."
As Vigilant's breastplate was closed around him, he made the hand commands for the Iron Hands techmarine Khares to begin repairing Sacrum's power pack. But the sermon continued without pause, mounting in both volume and passion as the chaplain pushed onward to his conclusions and call to action. Triggering new heights of offense, the blackshield circled back to paraphrase the speech he quoted at the duel's beginning: "When you started this duel, you started it ignorance fighting a foe you had no hope of understanding. You were unready, you were vulnerable, you were weak, and you still are. But in these sacred moments of thrust and parry, argument and rebuttal, I have opened a path towards strength you never knew you lacked. The strength to learn the truth, to rise from your enfeebling ignorance, to claim the heritage your ebony heraldry hides from you; nothing less than the full strength of the human mind. All of this was always yours by right, but has been kept from you by necessity. It is no longer necessary to keep it from you, and it is known to you now because of me."
Once fully armored, Vigilant walked over to where Sacrum had left his Prayer for Mercy bolt pistol and power axe before the duel. Not pausing his sermon for even a syllable, he delicately picked up both weapons and turned them over in his hands like a jeweler appraising a well cut gem. His hands and skull-helm seemed to dwell longer on the ancient bolt pistol, as though they were touching a living friend thought to be long dead. "I don't expect you to be grateful to me Sacrum," Vigilant continued, "I don't expect anything anymore. Instead, I challenge you to gain the knowledge of yourself you now know you lack. Like many Black Templars your gene-line does not belong to Rogal Dorn. Your lineage belongs to the Lost, to the IInd. The Emperor forbade me from telling you more but on His name I swear this is the truth, it is up to you to learn the rest yourself. I can only show you the path towards strength, I cannot walk it for you."
Returning to stand before Sacrum again, the chaplain's sermon audibly passed into it's closing exhortations, "Sacrum Osvidit of the Black Templars, are you strong enough to become whole in a way only understandable in retrospect? Do you have the faith to leap blindly into the darkness of your own soul? Not even time herself can tell, only you can choose. You can die here and now, fighting in pursuit of a quest crafted to keep you from looking inward and risking the discovery of a superlatively dangerous truth from a time when the Imperium was almost destroyed by less dangerous truths. You can chain yourself to a past you have the power to surpass; anyone can for that requires no strength, courage, nor honor. All it requires is vanity, and in the words of nearly forgotten comrades: 'Peace is a vanity, all vanity is in vain.'"
Khares' repairs were uncannily completed as the quote was finished, and as he began the next sentence Vigilant offered the handles of both power axe and bolt pistol to Sacrum then hauled him to his feet once the apothecary had a firm grip. "Or you can fight by my side to uncover your chapter's true soul and learn who your closest family in arms are, for that is an essential part of my plan to defend the Imperium from it's own ignorance." Sacrum could hear the smile the next sentence was spoken through, and oddly it held none of the arrogance he expected. Instead, the smile carried a mixture of respect and long-endured sorrow, "You can always challenge me again if you change your mind, in fact I wish you would do so even if you do not change. After all it was your gene-sire who taught me that 'genius cannot coexist with hubris, for genius is the product of the absolute humility required to learn from all possible sources'. As much as I have to teach you Sacrum, the truth is that I have more to learn from you. But that is the subject of another discussion, for now can I count on you to follow orders and work with me to our mutual goals?"
Sacrum was already more conflicted by Vigilant's sermon than anything his life had put him through before, but for the chaplain who had direct authority over him to ask if he was willing to follow orders crashed into him like the armored prow of an Imperial cruiser into a defenseless civilian transport. Sacrum had cut down xenos twice his size, stared into the eyes of dying comrades as he claimed vengeance upon their killers, and endured mental and physical suffering that would reduce the vast majority of human beings into crippled gibbering wrecks. His carefully constructed psyche had already weathered Vigilant's storm of forbidden revelation barely intact. But hearing a question, offered in complete earnest desire for the honest answer, where there should have been a command - somehow this seemingly trivial breach of familiar protocol pushed deeper into his mental defenses than the rest of the chaplain's sermon and touched something Sacrum had buried so deep so long ago he had forgotten it was there.
For almost a full minute Sacrum could not speak, could not move, he couldn't even breathe. His hearts were flailing wildly in his chest like they were trying to crawl up his throat or break straight through his sternum. He couldn't understand what he was feeling, was this what baseline humans call terror? Or was it exaltation? Some bizarre combination of both? No... no, neither! The more he fought for comprehension the more certain he was that this feeling was the opposite of unfamiliar, that he had an older relationship with this emotion than he could ever have with his fury. His mind blazed painfully with the echos of memories erased over a century ago, echos of...
... a door in a habblock? A bed in a windowless room? A... person handing him breakfast...? His... 'his' person??
Then in a flash of agony and anger he remembered, just barely and with no identifiable detail, but he remembered...
...his parents. That's where he had felt this before, and with an overwhelming certainty all the more repulsive because of it's novelty Sacrum empathetically knew that Vigilant had asked the question out of an incomprehensible sense of familial love.
It took effort for the apothecary to hold back his vomit, but held it in he did. The stakes had changed now, and Sacrum's sense of honor demanded more from him than the mere immediate death of Vigilant for his nigh-treasonous narrative. The chaplain had declared his claims in the name of the Emperor, and even if Sacrum could kill him all that would achieve would be denying any hope of investigating his claims and debunking his lies. Compared to the honor of his chapter his personal humiliation was irrelevant, and his chapter's honor demanded that it's purity remain untarnished. To claim that the Black Templars were composed, even in part, from not just any legion but one of the disgraceful Lost Legions was a stain on the chapter's aspirations for genetic purity; and as an apothecary that purity was his responsibility. Within that minute of stunned silence, Sacrum decided his duty obligated him to play along with Vigilant for the sake of catching him in his lies.
So Sacrum returned his helmet to his head, and made a mute sign of the Aquila with the briefest bow of deference. Then he had left that cleaned out comms bunker and all the marines inside without another word. As he stomped off, he had heard the Chaplain call out after him, "Don't stray too far or get too comfortable, if we are to recover the rest of the Aglis Noctis kill team we must head upriver within the hour!"
His mind back in the present, Sacrum releases the breath he had been holding in while recalling the duel. He couldn't deny that he still felt far more conflicted than he wanted to, but at least he was taking some action even if it is a waiting game for now. As his breathing returns to normal, Sacrum notices that the private comms rune for the assault marine Korbin is blinking. Apparently the normally mute Raven Guard has something to say to him for once.
With a thought Sacrum opens the vox channel, "You wish to talk with me in private Korbin? Out with it, we're approaching the land bridge so be quick."
When the pale marine spoke it was always as though he were allergic to the spoken word itself. Short, direct, and uninterested in tangents or dialogue; and this instance was no exception. His voice whispered through the speaker like he was trying to hide a secret, but Sacrum had fought alongside Korbin long enough to know that he always talked like this. Still, even this was almost cryptic even for Korbin, "Your spit burns, Sacrum."
Sacrum waited for more, but after a moment he realizes that's all Korbin has to say. "Yes it always has Korbin, I know the Raven Guard lacks a functional Betcher's Gland but mine works fine. If only Vigilant held my helm a little lower..."
"Don't handwave me away Sacrum, focus." came the quiet but clear reply, "Your hatred for the blackshield is distracting you from what's important. My chapter teaches it's aspirants about the history of our father Corax's pursuit of a stable gene-seed, and we're all aware of a few truths about the gene-seeds of the Legions. I know the Raven Guard are not the only First Founding chapter who lacks working Betcher's Glands. The other chapter is the Imperial Fists, and like us the loss of the Betcher's Gland runs through the Fists successor chapters. But we all saw YOUR spit burn, Sacrum. You're an apothecary, do you really need me to point this out to you or what it means?"
Sacrum blinks, stunned. Why did Korbin have to point this out to him? But before he could organize his thoughts Korbin hits him again, "After I saw what your spit did to your helmet I did a little research with the med bay's available datastack archives on the success rate of geneseed implantation into Astartes aspirants. Did you know that the Imperial Fists gene-seed is one of the most stable, second only to the Ultramarines? But the gene-seed of the Black Templars is far less stable, not as poor as the Space Wolves but it is a difference of almost 40%. Apparently the conventional wisdom is that the Templars' crusade prevents them from working with a single reliable population, but there are other successor chapters who are fleet based who don't have nearly as extreme of a difference with their predecessor chapter. Does 40% increased mortality rates sound like it's caused solely by the quality of aspirants to you Sacrum?"
By now Sacrum is reeling, his skull burns with pain as these strangely familiar facts tie themselves into the words Vigilant spoke during and after the duel. Why hadn't he noticed this discrepancy before, and if he hadn't why does the information feel so familiar now? But just as important, "Why are you telling me this now Korbin," Sacrum gasped, "when we are almost upon our first target?"
"Because I can see you're distracted Sacrum." came the instant reply, "I can see that your mind is not on the mission it's on that Throne damned duel. I don't trust Vigilant either, even if he actually is who he says he is that would only mean I trust him less. But I do trust Lord Inquisitor Gorman and Watch Captain Mordigael; they wouldn't have set that monster loose on the Jericho Reach without reason or without control over him, and I also trust my own gut. And my gut is telling me that Vigilant wasn't lying to you Sacrum, not about this, and not because Vigilant is trustworthy. My gut is telling me Vigilant told you the truth because he understood it would be a more effective weapon than any lie. Based on your march up here thus far, he was correct too. But you need to compose yourself Sacrum, the kill team depends on you and you're not the first marine with questions about his primarch. Allystyr doesn't know the fate of his chapter's entire first company, let alone his primarch, and is he crippled by self doubt and navel gazing? Can't you do better than a psyker?"
This is the spur in his side Sacrum needs, and he feels clarity for the first time in half a day as his familiar fury wells up within him at the implied insult. "Yes Korbin," Sacrum replies through grinning teeth, "I can do better than that witch. Thank you cousin, I propose to repay your kind attentiveness to my state of mind in the dueling cages when this mission is complete." Korbin's silence in response indicating his agreement to this, Sacrum returned his attention to the river bed as it began to slowly level.
"First destination marker in 100m and counting," came Bohemund's voice over the vox, "check your arms brothers and prepare to engage any hostiles we find on the shore. Khares you are to keep your auspex on continuous scanning for contacts, Allystyr I expect your witch-sight to catch anything the auspex misses. We go loud in 90 seconds and counting, understood?"
Command-compliance runes flashed out from all the kill team's marines on Sacrum's HUD, the squad was ready and itching for action. The timer on his HUD showed Sacrum the 90 second countdown was passing the 80 second mark when Allystyr piped up on the open vox.
"There's always something about amphibious assaults that feels like a metaphor for enlightenment," the Storm Warden's unique accent did nothing to hide the tone of sharply pointed humor from Allystyr's voice, as though he was telling a joke he knew not everyone would fully understand. "To be underwater is to be weighed down, suffocated, pushed and pulled about by forces greater than you, and soaked in the waste of lesser creatures. It is the same as living a lie."
"If underwater is the same as living a lie," growls the Space Wolf Muninn, "then returning to the air is to live by truth?"
"Indeed, but there's more too it than that" replies Allystyr in the over-emphasized tone of a proud teacher, "the rain does not hold you down it washes away your sweat and dirt. The air does not suffocate no matter how moist, it vitalizes you. You are free to move about on your own two legs instead of taken where the current goes. And instead of the waste of lesser creatures, you're soaked in the blood of the Emperor's enemies."
Allystyr paused a beat for emphasis, "So you see, when you live by the truth then the lies of others do nothing to stop you, in fact they strengthen you as you overcome their deceptions. But if you live a lie, the same lies will drown you!"
Allystyr's punchline lands as the HUD timer hits the 35 second mark, and the vox rune for Vigilant's line erupts with a deep belly laugh that continued even as the kill team's helmets broke the surface of the water.

In our seafaring/pirate campaign, I am playing a half elven (sea elf heritage) hexblade warlock (currently level 3, will soon level up to 4). The powers manifested after I was shipwrecked and lost my parents.
Now that I write it out, it sounds exactly like Fjord from Critical Roles Campaign 2 lmao
However, I will multiclass into Blood Hunter and not Paladin. I want to lean into the "pact with a lesser evil for the greater good" aspect of the Profane Soul subclass. Our DM loved the idea, as it apparently fits right into the story he had planned! He even allowed me to use CHA and not INT/WIS for the Profane Soul things (only the spells, other Blood Hunter hemocraft things will stay at WIS/INT).
That said, I don't know when I want to initiate the multiclass. At least 5 levels in warlock are set, as anything else would delay the extra attack by too much. And that's only 1 level away from the accursed specter feature. Level 7 would give me 4th level spell slots. Psychic Lance, Banishment, Summon Aberration/Greater Demon all come to mind as great options. Level 8 would give me another feat or ASI (probably a feat, as we rolled for stats and I have an 18 in CHA - so 20 after level 4 and a 14 in DEX for the max AC I can reach with medium armor)
What split do you think makes most sense? Currently I am leaning towards 7/13 or 8/12. But what feat should I choose with the ASI on 8th level?

Today's anniversaries are:
2007

• L'Ocelle mare - L'Ocelle mare (experimental folk)

2010

• Ni - Ni (avant-prog)

2011

• The Burden of Existence - The Burden of Existence (progressive metal) Read our review.

2012

• Acheode - Anxiety (progressive death metal) Read our review.
  
• The Korea - Колесницы богов (Kolesnicy bogov) (metalcore)
  

2013

• ██████ (Nic) - Demo (atmospheric black metal) Read our review.
  
• Cloudkicker - Hello (post-metal)
  

2015

• Hybrid Nightmares - The First Age (progressive black metal)

2016

• Daughter - Not to Disappear (indie rock)
  
• Dissona - Paleopneumatic (progressive metal) Read our review.
  
• Fire! - She Sleeps, She Sleeps (avant-garde jazz) Read our review.
  
• Mandroid Echostar - Coral Throne (progressive rock) Read our review.
  
• Snowpoet - Snowpoet (modern jazz, folk)
  

2017

• Ethmebb - La Quête du Saint Grind (death metal)

2018

• Deconstructing Sequence - Cosmic Progression: An Agonizing Journey trough Oddities of Space (progressive death metal)
  
• Neter - Īnferus (death metal)
  
• Nulabee - Queen for a Day (future bass)
  
• Wüst - Deform (indie rock)
  
• Zoller - Ces Expériences (experimental electro)
  

2019

• Analizator - Čovečanstveno sranje (death metal)
  
• Barshasketh - Barshasketh (blackened death metal)
  
• Gleb Kanasevich - Asleep (noise)
  
• Ill Considered - Ⅵ (spiritual jazz)
  
• Ill Considered - V (spiritual jazz)
  
• Mangeur de rêves - Histoires à l'envers (progressive rock)
  
• Robert Rich - Tactile Ground (world fusion)
  
• Ted Byrnes, Michael Foster, and Jacob Wick - Token Breeder (free improvisation) Read our review.
  

2020

• Body Void & Keeper - Split (sludge, post-metal)
  
• Gleb Kanasevich - If You Want to Be Reborn, Let Yourself Die (noise, electroacoustic)
  
• Umbah - Zaklor Casts a Midnight Blizzard (cybergrind)
  
• Vytear - Kingtrips 2 (experimental electro, breakcore)
  
• مهرزاد محمدی (Mhrz’d Mḥmdy / Mehrzad Mohammadi) - در خاکجایِ آسیمگی، دفنِ سراشیب ها (Dr kh'kj'ye 'asymgy, dfne sr'shyb h' / In the Grave of Inertia, Buried on the Hillside) (Persian folk)
  
• 福祿蘇 (Fulusu) - The Nativity (math rock, post-hardcore)
  

2021

• Aberration - Aberration (blackened death metal)
  
• Alexander Hawkins - Togetherness Music (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Beach Bunny - Blame Game (indie pop)
  
• Christopher Bailey - Rain Infinity (contemporary classical)
  
• Claire Rousay - Loose Ends (free improvisation)
  
• Colosso - Hateworlds (progressive death metal)
  
• Eirð - Prelude to Void (atmospheric doom metal)
  
• Exosphere - Nightmares (sludge metal)
  
• Foudre ! - Future Sabbath (drone, post-metal)
  
• Fractal Generator - Macrocosmos (progressive death metal)
  
• Frequency Eater - Engulf (progressive metal)
  
• Gabriel Vicéns - The Way We Are Created (modern jazz)
  
• Karoline Wallace - Stiklinger (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Louise Jallu - Piazzolla 2021 (avant-garde jazz, tango)
  
• Œstre - Humain (progressive metal)
  
• Pom Poko - Cheater (alternative pop)
  
• Sinew - Sinew (nu jazz, experimental jazz)
  
• Smile a Velociraptor - Code Raptor (mathcore, deathcore)
  
• The Sick Boy Method - For Karyn (experimental post-hardcore)
  
• Thou & Emma Ruth Rundle - The Helm of Sorrow (sludge metal)
  
• चेपाङ्ग (Cēpāṅga / Chepang) & Yautja - Split (grindcore)
  
• 上海秋天 (Shànghǎi qiūtiān) - 家：革命 (Jiā: Gémìng / Home：Revolution) (math rock)
  
• 高瀬アキ (Takase Aki), Christian Weber, and Michael Griener - Auge (avant-garde jazz)
  

2022

• Ben Levin - Beyond My Dreams Dying (art rock)
  
• Fragda - Damnation Is Inevitable (blackened deathcore)
  
• Ničiteľ - Anna (post-hardcore, sludge metal)
  

So, with the specter of OGL 1.1 hanging over a the RPG scene it's.... feeling familiar to me.
Back in 2000, 3rd edition came out. From what I recall, it seemed to revitalize the D&D brand, and it recovered much (if not all) of whatever cache it had lost during the 90's to things like World of Darkness and Rifts and others. With the OGL, tons of 3rd party creators jumped on board and made their own supplements, settings, games, whatever. d20 became the lingua franca of the RPG scene.
Of course, there were plenty of other systems as well, but it did seem to spark a lot of content and much of it was centralized around the d20/3e system in the broad sense. To be clear, I'm not saying that nearly everything being d20 is good or bad, I'm just observing how it seemed to be.
Then, 4e came along and splintered the community - partly through the relatively unpopular reception 4e received, partly through the more restricted GSL compared to the OGL.
Pathfinder was released. The OSR, which came out of the d20 OGL, started to develop and expand more. 4e was doing whatever it was doing. Many of the 3rd party creators who had d20 material started working on their own system. Others worked on material for Pathfinder. There was lots of systems out there, a few very prominent ones, but no dominant one.
Then 5e came out and grew in popularity. Critical Role, the pandemic, VTTs, and a wealth of 3rd party creators pushed it to a higher level - at least in terms of cultural prominence - than it ever had before. I have no idea about actual sales figures, but in terms of "brand awareness" (ugh, I hate that I typed that), D&D is probably near it's peak, if not at it. Everyone's 5e Kickstarter was setting getting huge numbers. Sure, there was a wealth of indie games, PbtA, FitD, and perhaps the golden age of the OSR and Pathfinder 2e, but once again, D&D provided a lingua franca with 5e.
Then came OneD&D. Sure, a new edition, but seemingly backwards compatible. So, more like AD&D 1e going to 2e, perhaps. The some discussion about a VTT and buying D&D Beyond. Then corporate talk about further monetizing the brand. And then .... the OGL 1.1 leaks.
And now we are looking at another splintering.
With so many 3rd party creators discussing producing their own system rather than jump on board with OGL 1.1, certainly an end of an era with the OSR and the OGL, it looks a lot like what happened around 2008 and 2009 with the release of 4e. Which is a little funny, because it seemed like they were trying to avoid that, but ended up stepping right in it.
Seems like we've been here before.
I can't speak to the TSR era much, because although I was certainly around and not too young, I wasn't much involved in gaming then. I ran across the books in hobby and comic stores and played a bit in my teens prior to college, but that was about it. Maybe it happened back then as well. I'll leave it to others who were paying attention to comment on that.
Anyway, just some observations and thoughts. I don't think going back on OGL 1.1 and revising it to the point were it's a rehash of 1.0a is going to fix this at this point, because it's been revealed to be what it is, a corporate license that leaves users to beholden to it. It pretended to be Open Source, the Linux of RPGs, but it was really Microsoft all along.
Edit:
To be clear, I'm not a 5e player myself and own zero 5e products. I don't care about the fate of DnDone / 1D&D / whatsoever. I do care about 3 party producers and the OSR.

My group will be starting a d&d 5e Legend of Zelda campaign soon based on Ocarina of Time. One of the players will be playing Link, but he wants to be a hexblade warlock. First he thought of having the Great Deku Tree as a patron, but I don't find it a good fit thematically, unless we completely reflavor the shadowfell aspect of the hexblade into being feylike.
The option we're considering now is that the Twilight Princess, Midna, could be his hexblade patron, but neither of us have ever completed that game (I hear it's awesome though). Would Midna be a suitable hexblade patron? When the player takes a familiar (through the Magic Initiate feat), what monster, type, and alignment would she be? From what I know I'd say an imp of neutral alignment with either the fiend or aberration type (though a neutral fiend would be highly irregular, it may fit).
For his 6th-level Accursed Specter, he'll have Dark Link following him around.
Any thoughts or suggestions?
Thanks!

Game: NecroPolis - Through Life and Death Group type: Online - Discord Server Experience: New and Experienced players welcome Schedule: Weekly. Sunday - 5PM to 9PM EST OR Friday - 7PM to 10 PM EST Session Length: 3-4 hours Fee: $10 per session (Session 0 is Free) Roles sought: 2 Players Game style: Roleplay is encouraged and rewarded. In combat we use homebrew mechanics to flavour the most important battles. RPG is a game of communication and history creation as a group. I like to tailor each game to best fit the players narrative. This is an LGBTQ+ friendly game and you can expect themes of drama, heroism, romance, building relationships, prejudice and mystery. We play at Gudiu Games Discord Server. Contact info: Send me a Direct Message on Discord LordPride #6484
Death. The one certainty that we all face. Death is inevitable. Love, family, hate, war; All these concepts vanish when we die. Some people embrace the sweet release, to others death is an ever approaching doom. Some may see this as an opportunity to begin a new life... or unlife?
Welcome to NecroPólis! NecroPólis a developing city-state in the north Sondar. A place where you and your loved ones, dead or alive, can create a better life. A place where undead can roam free of the fear of being smited. A place where an Old Dracolich lives underground and a council of Vampires, Skeletons, Specters, and Wraiths secure your place in NecroPólis. We welcome citizens from across all regions that want to build a peaceful cultural capital for the ones that were raised from death. Whether you were raised by a mad necromancer, the power of love, occult ritual, or other reasons, you are welcomed here!
Right now, we are building a rescue party to help free undead people that live in precarious places. They maybe suffering with the Bureau of Normalcy influence or just don’t have the means to travel by themselves. We appreciate candidates and we pay in gold. Feel free to join and help us! You can expect a general high fantasy tone with a more wholesome and social approach to undead, aberrations, and monsters in general. Think of a game that draws influence from Coco, Nightmare before Christmas, Hazbin Hotel, Monster Prom, and other of your favorite Halloween movies. If you always wanted to fight the holy paladins, this is also your campaign. This is an LGBTQ+ friendly game and you can expect themes of drama, heroism, romance, building relationships, prejudice, and mystery.

Game: NecroPolis - Through Life and Death Group type: Online - Discord Server Experience: New and Experienced players welcome Schedule: Weekly. Sunday - 5PM to 9PM EST OR Friday - 7PM to 10 PM EST Session Length: 3-4 hours Fee: $10 per session (Session 0 is Free) Roles sought: 2 Players Game style: Roleplay is encouraged and rewarded. In combat we use homebrew mechanics to flavour the most important battles. RPG is a game of communication and history creation as a group. I like to tailor each game to best fit the players narrative. This is an LGBTQ+ friendly game and you can expect themes of drama, heroism, romance, building relationships, prejudice and mystery. We play at Gudiu Games Discord Server. Contact info: Send me a Direct Message on Discord LordPride #6484
Death. The one certainty that we all face. Death is inevitable. Love, family, hate, war; All these concepts vanish when we die. Some people embrace the sweet release, to others death is an ever approaching doom. Some may see this as an opportunity to begin a new life... or unlife?
Welcome to NecroPólis! NecroPólis a developing city-state in the north Sondar. A place where you and your loved ones, dead or alive, can create a better life. A place where undead can roam free of the fear of being smited. A place where an Old Dracolich lives underground and a council of Vampires, Skeletons, Specters, and Wraiths secure your place in NecroPólis. We welcome citizens from across all regions that want to build a peaceful cultural capital for the ones that were raised from death. Whether you were raised by a mad necromancer, the power of love, occult ritual, or other reasons, you are welcomed here!
Right now, we are building a rescue party to help free undead people that live in precarious places. They maybe suffering with the Bureau of Normalcy influence or just don’t have the means to travel by themselves. We appreciate candidates and we pay in gold. Feel free to join and help us! You can expect a general high fantasy tone with a more wholesome and social approach to undead, aberrations, and monsters in general. Think of a game that draws influence from Coco, Nightmare before Christmas, Hazbin Hotel, Monster Prom, and other of your favorite Halloween movies. If you always wanted to fight the holy paladins, this is also your campaign. This is an LGBTQ+ friendly game and you can expect themes of drama, heroism, romance, building relationships, prejudice, and mystery.
​
​
https://preview.redd.it/kb5ajz7gqu8a1.png?width=1748&format=png&auto=webp&s=606d33937fef2a654d6edc8aaf51edfd9d186953

I just hit 95 slayer and I want to get as many hydra tasks as I can.
Is there a strategy like going to a specific slayer master or a certain list of monsters to block?
Currently only have aberrant specters and drakes blocked.
Also don’t care about xp rates I just wanna gain more gp lol
Thank you and happy holidays!

I just got an herb burner from aberrant specters. I currently have 57 herblore. Is it worth using the burner on any herbs?

With the announcement of a new skill polling method, let's look back at what existing skills looked like on launch. Slayer, now one of the most beloved skills in OSRS, was very much not that on launch. Most of the things people like about it are OSRS exclusive content. Wilderness slayer or Konar for extra cash and points? Not only are both of those OSRS exclusive, slayer points are OSRS exclusive.
When the skill first launched in 2005, there was a lot wrong with it. The week after the skill launched, there was an update adding significant numbers of new hellhound and hill giant spawns, because if you got a task for one of those monsters, it would take hours to complete because most worlds had more people camping them than there were spawn points. Some of that was because slayer was new so everyone was doing it, but those were still rare monsters that were common tasks.
If you're wondering why players didn't skip those tasks, it's because you couldn't skip tasks until three weeks after launch. So if you got black dragons as a task, you wouldn't be getting a single slayer exp point ever again unless you walked all the way through the Taverly dungeon (without the agility shortcuts because they didn't exist back then) and camped the tiny number of spawns all the way at the end. You would also probably have to do that more than once since task sizes were typically larger than than you could do at that time.
Also, the only bonus to killing things on a slayer task was getting slayer exp. The black mask wouldn't be added until over a year after the skill launched, and that only gave a bonus to melee combat, and couldn't be worn against monsters requiring slayer headgear like dust devils, which themselves didn't exist until two months after the slayer skill was introduced. The only real rewards from the slayer skill was the ability to kill the higher level slayer monsters, which included bloodvelds with all the blood runes they dropped, aberrent spectres with their constant herb drops, and abyssal demons which could drop the new best weapon in the game, the abyssal whip. However, these typically weren't that much better than lower level monsters, like chaos druids, except for the rare abyssal whip drops.
Training slayer was also REALLY slow, since the best weapons available at the time were the d scim, the msb with rune arrows (which were expensive and hard to get in decent quantities), or fire wave (with no magic damage boosts, and blood runes were expensive and hard to get in large quantities). Also, cannons were very expensive since gp was vastly less inflated, and acquiring cannonballs was also hard since there was no grand exchange and there weren't bosses pumping hordes of raw resources into the game. This meant most people were set up with a d scim and full rune, and occasionally you would see an msb with mithril arrows and black dhide or fire bolt with chaos gauntlets in mystic robes. On top of that, blocking tasks and bursting didn't exist yet, so exp rates were way slower than they are today. As a result, it took a while to get to the point where slayer monsters actually had drops worth anything.
Between the slow training and honestly boring training, lack of meaningful rewards at lower levels, and underwhelming rewards at higher levels, the skill was absolutely hated for a while after release. Updates like the black mask and slayer points or even Turael skipping tasks were critical to the skill turning into the form it is today, but those didn't happen until after release. Just keep that in mind when looking at a new skill, since the first draft is probably going to need some adjustments.

Today's anniversaries are:
2005

• Omar Rodríguez-López - Omar Rodriguez (experimental rock)

2013

• Frontierer - The Collapse (mathcore)

2014

• Aloe Island Posse - Welcome to Aloe Island (vaporwave, future funk)
  
• Mapmaker - Automation (progressive metal)
  

2015

• Lithium Dawn - Tearing Back the Veil Ⅰ: Ascension (progressive metal)
  
• Order of the Oblique - Layers (post-metal) Read our review.
  

2016

• Euglena & Колчак (Kolčak) - Split (blackened hardcore) Read our review.
  
• Mute the Saint - Mute the Saint (progressive metalcore) Read our review.
  
• Tenth Intervention - We Are Legion (contemporary classical)
  
• Voidcræft - Un futur cadavre (avant-garde black metal)
  

2018

• 助長 (Jochō / Jyocho) - 美しい終末サイクル (Utsukushī shūmatsu saikuru) (math rock, indie rock)
  
• Thödol - Future Was Brighter Yesterday (progressive rock, progressive metal)
  

2019

• Albionic Hermeticism - Ytenic Blód (black metal)
  
• Dithering - Dithering (post-hardcore)
  
• Fish Basket - Fish Basket (progressive rock, post-rock)
  
• Mathieu Bec & Robin Servant - Escarbilles (free improvisation)
  
• Nubiyan Twist - Portraits (soul, world fusion)
  
• Roopa Mahadevan - Roopa in Six Yards (Indian classical)
  
• Trépas - L'Héritage du monde (black metal)
  

2020

• Cosmophobe - Aberrations (technical deathcore)
  
• Sebastian Gampl - Master Switch (synthwave)
  
• تفقُم (Tafaqum) - مع الأيام (Mae al'ayam / Maal ayam) (progressive metal)
  

2021

• Camille Secheppet - Les poissons rouges aussi font leur traversée du désert (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Neon Hiss - Shame (cybergrind)
  
• Protovirus - Protovirus (deathgrind)
  

Game: NecroPolis - Through Life and Death Group type: Online - Discord Server (@GudiuGames) Experience: New and Experienced players welcome Schedule: Weekly. Sunday - 5PM to 9PM EST / 2PM to 6PM PST Session Length: 3-4 hours Fee: $10 per session (Session 0 is Free) Roles sought: 5 Players Game style: Roleplay is encouraged and rewarded. In combat we use homebrew mechanics to flavour the most important battles. RPG is a game of communication and history creation as a group. I like to tailor each game to best fit the players narrative. This is an LGBTQ+ friendly game and you can expect themes of drama, heroism, romance, building relationships, prejudice and mystery. We play at Gudiu Games Discord Server. Looking for young adult/adult players.
Death. The one certainty that we all face. Death is inevitable. Love, family, hate, war; All these concepts vanish when we die. Some people embrace the sweet release, to others death is an ever approaching doom. Some may see this as an opportunity to begin a new life... or unlife?
Welcome to NecroPólis! NecroPólis a developing city-state in the north Sondar. A place where you and your loved ones, dead or alive, can create a better life. A place where undead can roam free of the fear of being smited. A place where an Old Dracolich lives underground and a council of Vampires, Skeletons, Specters, and Wraiths secure your place in NecroPólis. We welcome citizens from across all regions that want to build a peaceful cultural capital for the ones that were raised from death. Whether you were raised by a mad necromancer, the power of love, occult ritual, or other reasons, you are welcomed here!
Right now, we are building a rescue party to help free undead people that live in precarious places. They maybe suffering with the Bureau of Normalcy influence or just don’t have the means to travel by themselves. We appreciate candidates and we pay in gold. Feel free to join and help us! You can expect a general high fantasy tone with a more wholesome and social approach to undead, aberrations, and monsters in general. Think of a game that draws influence from Coco, Nightmare before Christmas, Hazbin Hotel, Monster Prom, and other of your favorite Halloween movies. If you always wanted to fight the holy paladins, this is also your campaign. This is an LGBTQ+ friendly game and you can expect themes of drama, heroism, romance, building relationships, prejudice, and mystery.
Contact info: Send me a Direct Message on Discord LordPride #6484

Game: NecroPolis - Through Life and Death Group type: Online - Discord Server Experience: New and Experienced players welcome Schedule: Weekly. Sunday - 5PM to 9PM EST / 2PM to 6PM PST Session Length: 3-4 hours Fee: $10 per session (Session 0 is Free) Roles sought: 5 Players Game style: Roleplay is encouraged and rewarded. In combat we use homebrew mechanics to flavour the most important battles. RPG is a game of communication and history creation as a group. I like to tailor each game to best fit the players narrative. This is an LGBTQ+ friendly game and you can expect themes of drama, heroism, romance, building relationships, prejudice and mystery. We play at Gudiu Games Discord Server. Looking for young adult/adult players.
Death. The one certainty that we all face. Death is inevitable. Love, family, hate, war; All these concepts vanish when we die. Some people embrace the sweet release, to others death is an ever approaching doom. Some may see this as an opportunity to begin a new life... or unlife?
Welcome to NecroPólis! NecroPólis a developing city-state in the north Sondar. A place where you and your loved ones, dead or alive, can create a better life. A place where undead can roam free of the fear of being smited. A place where an Old Dracolich lives underground and a council of Vampires, Skeletons, Specters, and Wraiths secure your place in NecroPólis. We welcome citizens from across all regions that want to build a peaceful cultural capital for the ones that were raised from death. Whether you were raised by a mad necromancer, the power of love, occult ritual, or other reasons, you are welcomed here!
Right now, we are building a rescue party to help free undead people that live in precarious places. They maybe suffering with the Bureau of Normalcy influence or just don’t have the means to travel by themselves. We appreciate candidates and we pay in gold. Feel free to join and help us! You can expect a general high fantasy tone with a more wholesome and social approach to undead, aberrations, and monsters in general. Think of a game that draws influence from Coco, Nightmare before Christmas, Hazbin Hotel, Monster Prom, and other of your favorite Halloween movies. If you always wanted to fight the holy paladins, this is also your campaign. This is an LGBTQ+ friendly game and you can expect themes of drama, heroism, romance, building relationships, prejudice, and mystery.
Contact info: Send me a Direct Message on Discord LordPride #6484
https://preview.redd.it/nooauhycccz91.png?width=1748&format=png&auto=webp&s=5324487539c8f6b166cc3625ca0429cd33229517

Dr Harlow (vyre slayer, medical professional, and local drunk of Varrock) would have made a better guardian of the Blood Diamond of Azzandra than Malak (some nameless, faceless who shows up for only this one, literally godforsaken quest). Reasons as follows:

• Dr Harlow was already a character in the game. Using him instead of inventing a new character would have kept the cast of quest-related OSRS NPCs ever so slightly smaller, and making it feel just a little more like an intimate story of intrigue and adventure.
• Dr Harlow is an experienced vampyre slayer and can explain to you exactly how to defeat an ancient, evil, aberrational leech. He might say something like "Well I hid it in the grave of Dessous, a vyre I once slew, but I'm afraid I didn't do it quite right, as it was one of my earliest vyre encounters and I didn't quite know what I was doing yet. So. He may still be alive. Kind of. Rotten, decayed, savaged by the toils of time and curse of belligerant immortality, and in some weakned state, yes, but alive and stronger than you could hope to defeat." [Based on any vyre quests you've completed, insert line here where you may protest that you've killed vyres before, and tell him of the most famous one you've slain. He then responds with a corresponding amount of surprise, and then adds.] "Then you should know this simple potion that, if poured over his tombstone, will stupor him. Still mightier and stronger and more fearsome than ten men combined, but mortal."
• Dr Harlow auditioned for a star role in the Morytania/Vyre quest series as an experienced-but-comedic anti-role-model and unwilling tutor for the player character. But sadly, the show decided to cancel that part of the dramatic video game opera. Harlow's story, his physical location, everything about his persona simply reeks of "PUT ME IN THE VYRE QUESTS. I'M A NATURAL FIT." But, alas, his talents were overlooked and they failed to put any character in that role at all. So maybe he can get a chance here, instead.
• Dr Harlow is blood-stained, for some reason. Blood is a diamond's best friend. Blood for the Blood God. And all the things like that. He fits the theme.

Follow-up remark: Count Draynor was a weakened vyre noble and could be harmed by any weapon, but only killed by a stake through the heart. Dessous should have similar mechanics, but be strengthened by virtue of still being on Zamorakian soil. This means you must defeat Dessous with a stake to the heart, and can only be harmed with silver or blisterwood weapons. Reasons as follows:

• Every Desert Treasure boss has their mechanical gimmick, a thing that makes them a unique boss fight. Damis drains your prayer. Fareed is really hot and requires you use ice gloves or use water spells. Ice place dude has a sickass stat-draining environmental hazard. Dessous just... attacks. Requiring silvered weaponry to harm him and a stake + hammer to finish him off (like how gargoyles need to be smashed with a granite hammer, or desert lizards need to be splashed with ice water) and thus taking up 2 inventory slots that can't be used for food or potions, that gives him two simple but interesting gimmicks.
• It's narratively consistent.
• Rule of cool.

Discuss.

Today's anniversaries are:
1976

• Starcastle - Starcastle (progressive rock)

1995

• Les Colocs - Atrocetomique (pop, rock)

2002

• Venetian Snares - A Giant Alien Force More Violent & Sick than Anything You Can Imagine (breakcore, noise)

2009

• Amia Venera Landscape - Amia Venera Landscape (post-hardcore)

2012

• Family - Portrait (progressive metal)
  
• Follow the White Rabbit - Endorphinia (progressive metal, post-hardcore) Read our review.
  
• Oh Bree - We Miss You Edward, Come Home (indie folk)
  
• ᐃᓕᓴᐱ (Ilisapi / Elisapie) - Travelling Love (folk, pop)
  

2013

• 宇宙コンビニ (Uchū konbini) - 染まる音を確認したら (Somaru oto o kakunin shitara) (math rock)

2015

• Abigail Williams - The Accuser (atmospheric black metal)
  
• Ahleuchatistas - Arrebato (experimental rock)
  
• Birds in Row & We Are in the Country - Split (blackened hardcore)
  
• Cryptopsy - The Book of Suffering, Tome Ⅰ (technical death metal)
  
• Frontierer - Orange Mathematics (mathcore) Read our review.
  
• Grey Heaven Fall - Black Wisdom (black metal)
  
• Kardashev - Peripety (progressive metal)
  
• Lost Soul - Atlantis: The New Beginning (technical death metal) Read our review.
  
• Panzerballett - Breaking Brain (progressive metal, jazz fusion) Read our review.
  
• Pinkish Black - Bottom of the Morning (noise rock)
  
• Tiberius - Tiberius (progressive metal) Read our review.
  
• When Wild Dingos Attack - Burn What You Love (metalcore) Read our review.
  

2016

• I Built the Sky - The Sky Is Not the Limit (post-rock) Read our review.
  
• Nachtreich - Beobachtungen über dem Horizont (contemporary classical) Read our review.
  
• Vectrexcentricity - Lifelike Boy Android (free improvisation) Read our review.
  
• 月面避行 (Getsumen hikō) - Crocco (J-pop, drum and bass)
  

2017

• Dumbsaint - Another Scene (post-metal)
  
• Fragarak - A Spectral Oblivion (progressive death metal)
  

2018

• Atrium - The Equation of Beauty (progressive metal, nu-prog)
  
• Consumed - Consumed (blackened grindcore)
  
• Gridfailure - When the Lights Go Out, Volume Ⅱ (dark ambient, soundtrack)
  
• Holy Grinder & Reeking Cross - Split (grindcore)
  
• Marée noire & Crowning - Split (post-hardcore)
  
• Organ - Everything Is Pared Down. Minimal Expectations (avant-garde black metal) Read our review.
  
• Richard Daskas - Eons (microtonal post-rock)
  

2019

• Destination Dimension - Mantodea (post-hardcore, mathcore)
  
• Diego Paredes & Hilario Bell - HD Harmony (jazz fusion)
  
• Lamia Yared - Chants des Trois Cours (folk, world fusion)
  
• Leo Suarez & Nathan Corder - Picidae (free improvisation)
  

2020

• Algiers - Cleveland 20/20 (experimental rock)
  
• Ambient Jazz Ensemble - Aura (nu jazz)
  
• André Fernandes - Kinetic (modern jazz)
  
• Ballrogg - Rolling Ball (free improvisation)
  
• Beltez - A Grey Chill and a Whisper (atmospheric black metal)
  
• Ben Wendel - High Heart (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Black to Comm - Oocyte Oil & Stolen Androgens (experimental electro)
  
• Bleeding Out - Lifelong Death Fantasy (deathgrind)
  
• Botanist - Photosynthesis (experimental black metal) Read our review.
  
• Chrome Hill - This Is Chrome Hill (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Cordoba - Specter (jazz fusion, soul)
  
• Cortex - Legal Tender (free jazz)
  
• EABS - Discipline of Sun Ra (spiritual jazz)
  
• Elaine the Singer - Elaine the Singer (math rock)
  
• Emma Ruth Rundle & Thou - May Our Chambers Be Full (sludge metal)
  
• Fay Victor's Sound Noise Funk - We've Had Enough (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Galen Tipton - Ungoliant (experimental electro)
  
• Icare - Khaos (blackened grindcore)
  
• Jeffrey Ryan - My Soul upon My Lips (contemporary classical)
  
• LRK Trio - Memory Moment (jazz fusion)
  
• Mary Halvorson's Code Girl - Artlessly Falling (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Michael Thomas & Chris Ziemba - Duets (modern jazz)
  
• Mr. Bungle - The Raging Wrath of the Easter Bunny Demo (thrash metal)
  
• Nonlocal Forecast - Holographic Universe(s?)! (experimental electro, jazz fusion)
  
• Nuclear Power Trio - A Clear and Present Rager (progressive metal, jazz fusion)
  
• Ring van Möbius - The Third Majesty (progressive rock)
  
• Savina Yannatou & Joana Sá - Ways of Not Seeing (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Seven - Interdimensional (progressive metalcore)
  
• Silica Gel - May Day (experimental folk)
  
• Sorcier des glaces - Un monde de glace et de sang (black metal)
  
• Sulphur Sun - Placodermic Heraldry (progressive death metal)
  
• The Flower Kings - Islands (progressive rock)
  
• Unk - Now (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Ur - Obelga (black metal)
  
• Victims & Falsifier - Misery in Death (progressive metalcore)
  
• Дивертисмент (Divertisment / Divertissement) - Баланс белого (Balans belogo / White Balance) (contemporary classical)
  
• שלוש (Šlwš / Shalosh) - Broken Balance (jazz fusion)
  
• आभास (Ābhāsa) - २ (Dvi) (atmospheric black metal, post-metal) Read our review.
  
• यमान्तक (Yamāntaka / Sonic Titan) - Night of the Living Dead Rescored (soundtrack)
  
• ᐱᖅᓯᖅ (Piqsiq) - ᑖᖅᑐᖅ ᐅᓪᓗᕆᐊᖅ (Taaqtuq Ulluriaq / Dark Star) (experimental folk)
  
• 落日飛車 (Lo̍h-ji̍t pechhia / Sunset Rollercoaster) - 柔性風暴 (Liû sìⁿ hong-po̍k / Soft Storm) (indie pop)
  

2021

• Mistchaser - Kairos (atmospheric black metal)
  
• Nordic Winter - Le Dernier Adieu (atmospheric black metal)
  
• Ренат Менситов (Renat Mensitov) - Park of Attractions (progressive metal)
  
• Shadowgazer - Blackgaze Cinema (blackgaze)
  
• 瀚海澜汐 (Hànhǎi làng xī / Vast Waters Billowing Tides) - 總有一天你會遇見一個彩虹般絢麗的人 (Zǒng yǒu yītiān nǐ huì yùjiàn yīgè cǎihóng bān xuànlì de rén) (post-rock)