Building Bhakashal - Solo Adventures
Image is the Ward where the adventure occurred, Ward 39 of Noble House Jin. The red circled building is the warlock's tower that was breached.
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Mikkra the Rhodolite stretched her arms and neck, sitting in one place for so long curled up like a wagh beetle on a wine barrel was making her stiff and sore.
Still, the location was perfect.
She had rented a 3rd floor room at Keskittall’s Axe, an inn popular with city guards and sell-swords, filled with itinerant warriors and arena rats. No one of great repute stayed here, and room turnover was regular, so she didn’t stand out.
Mikkra was just under 6 ft tall, with dark brown hair, but at this time it was all shaved off. She was bald except for a tattoo of a dog headed man, Kurlog, god of luck, which covered the top of her head. She had 3 silver earrings in her right ear, but otherwise she had no jewelry at all. She wore no armor, but had expensive lizard skin boots, blue silken pants and a black leather vest. She prefered speed and stealth to brute strength, the only weapons on her person were a concealed slingshot she named “Zdravo” (Togmu for “hello”) and an enchanted gladius named “Dovidenja” (Togmu for “goodbye”). She had taken both from a Spider she had slain as part of her initiation into the Guild.
Both had saved her life many times over.
It was dark now, and Mikkra had no lights on in the room as she sat and watched the building next door with trained eyes. Four days of casing this building, four days of watching its inhabitants come and go, servants, cooks, soldiers… every building had a rhythm to it, and a group of people who traversed its boundaries at all hours.
Like bees crawling in and out of a hive.
And this hive was of interest to the thaumaturge, as the trail had led her to it. As she sat in the inky blackness, her mind drifted back.
Several months ago she had been called to see her patron, Rasik Silver Hand, a high ranking Thaumaturge in the Brass Blade Spider’s guild. It had been an infernally hot day, even the dark blue IIambak plants in Rasik’s garden were listing and giving off a mist. Rasik was a dark green Saan with a silver prosthetic hand and a prehensile tail. He used the tail to pick up items and move things around while talking to you, which usually, along with the hand, distracted visitors and put them off balance. Mikkra had grown used to it.
Rasik had tasked her with finding out what was happening to the bodies of arena warriors. Normally, when slain in the arena the bodies were taken by Garudin to the towers in the Raosk, where they were left out for the birds to pick clean. Last winter several Garudin had not turned up at the towers with their bodies. This wasn’t completely unheard of, any number of things could happen to a pair of flyers carrying a body, but it happened once, then twice, and since last winter, almost a dozen times.
Rasik was the Brass Blade Guild’s liaison with the Garudin from the Raosk, so he had heard about the disappearances.
The Temple of Yaal was eager to keep the disappearances quiet, Rasik suspected bandits or perhaps a Noble House warlock who wanted to upset the temple. It could even be the work of the Temple of Torphak, rumor had it that they were resentful that the passage of the dead was the responsibility of the Tempe of Yaal. Either way, if Rasik could find out what was happening, it might be possible to leverage something for the Guild, get the Temple or the Garudin, both of whom had their reputations on the line, in debt to him.
Rasik did not want any of his Guild rivals to get in on this, so he contacted a trusted agent. Mikkra had aided Rasik with bandits who had been harassing his couriers a year ago, and since then he trusted the Thaumaturge with jobs he wanted kept quiet. He explained the disappearances, and she suggested a plan.
Mikkra had a Kestram named Chamasyl, it was all black except for it’s wing tips, head and tail, which were trimmed with dark red. She also had a network of contacts in the Raosk, she had started her apprenticeship in the guild in the Raosk. She worked with a Jugyi Jinx named Kolwath Meever, Kolwath worked out of the Raosk branch of the Guild, but he happily made his boat available for Mikkra’s hijinks, as they had proven profitable.
Mikkra spent 3 weeks in the marshes with the Jinx, Chamas would roost in nearby trees and hunt the ample game of the marshlands, as well as deterring the larger beasts, most of whom dreaded the airborne kestram.
Rasik also knew of Mikkra’s magical glasses, dark rimmed and sleek, they gave her the vision of an eagle. She positioned the boat so she could see the Garudin leaving for the Raosks with bodies day after day. Eventually, after several weeks of patient observation, she saw two of the Garudin carrying a body through the dusk suddenly go down.
Mikkra mounted the kestrem and flew to the location where the Garudin plunged into the marshes. She arrived in time to see a small group of Saan accompanied by what appeared to be a Kutya warlock, they had both of the garudin and the dead body and were placing them on a boat. She kept her distance, the glasses allowed her to follow their boat from far away, to avoid being noticed. She watched them take the bodies back to the city, and she traced their route to the building she was now surveilling. She then spent the next weeks learning about the owner of the building.
As she sat back in her chair in the dark she mused, months of legwork, but she was confident she would be able to figure out what was happening.
Mikkra scanned the windows to the various rooms of the building in question. Most Bhakashal homes leave their windows free of curtains or blinds at night when the sun is not beating down cruelly upon them, so one of the frequent breezes would caress the inhabitants within. Mikkra scanned each room she could see. Occasionally she saw a guard, or the man she assumed to be the primary inhabitant of the building, a Saan warlock, very short, but very muscular.
When Mikkra tracked the men back to this building she had spent several days in the nearby taverns and stables, and after some conversations of note, discovered that the building was the residence of Dulgau the Mournful, a Togmu Warlock from House Jin.
Mikkra did not care about House rivalries,she just wanted to determine what was happening, Rasik was very keen to figure this out, and she knew she was in the right place.
So she sat.
Over the last several days she had observed the pattern of the guards posted at the doorway of the house, and the guards which walked all but the top floor of the building. She was confident it was possible to gain access to the building by entering a south facing window on the second floor when the second floor guards were on their first floor rotation. It was a precise thing, part of their rotation was to check out the windows and look around, so if she didn’t time it right they could see her climbing a wall.
That would not work out well.
The two guards on the door were looming, surly Chitin, glossy black and brown with many faceted eyes, they carried excessively large bardiches and round black shields. The two guards inside the building were big, muscular saan, armed with heavy maces and daggers. They were blood red in color and wore only bronze breastplates for armor, molded with the House Jin crest, a black spider.
She watched the pattern for a full four days and it stayed the same, she had a window of 5 minutes or so when the guards at the door were in place and the guards inside were on the first floor. This would give her enough time to dash out of a nearby alley, climb to the 2nd floor and enter through a West window. From there she would move through the house to find the bodies.
Fortunately she had done her homework. One of Dulgau’s cleaners, a vodnik named Chawal, frequented the Muddy Minotaur, a raucous tavern several blocks away from the building. Mikkra plied Chawal with enough ale to get him off guard and running his mouth, secured the location of the bodies.
In the basement.
Tonight was the night. She had spent most of the day watching the building, confirming that the guard’s pattern was typical tonight, and it was. The moon was a sliver, and the night was cloudy, so she had maximum concealment. It was well past midnight, Dulgau should be asleep if nothing unusual was going on, and the streets, though not empty, were not busy on this stretch of road. House Jin was a residential ward, so there were inns and taverns, stables and even the occasional alchemist, but otherwise it was comparatively quiet.
Mikkra checked over her scrolls, Thaumaturges did not cast spells from memory, only from scrolls, so whatever she brought with her was all she would have. She brought two scrolls with her tonight, both secured to a bandolier on her chest. The first had Feather Fall, Magic Missile, Dispel Magic and Omm-Karon’s Oscillating Orb upon it, the second had Knock, Binnatav’s Sudden Viscosity, Charm Monster and Monster Summoning V .
Mikkra left Keskittall’s Axe, pushing through a rowdy crowd of arena fighters flying high on the elation of surviving another day’s battles, singing The Ballad of Borley’s Axe, a song that was only ever sang in taverns and arena pits for its bawdy and boorish tone.
She left the area and walked for a while, blending back into the crowd, then made her way back to an alley behind Dulgau’s tower. Crouched in the darkness, she donned her Eyes of the Eagle and confirmed that the front door guards were just returning to their spot at the door after walking the perimeter of the building.
Now was the time.
She bolted over to the wall, the darkness concealing her, and she felt for cracks and ledges in the wall. Fortunately for her not only were there cracks, but in typical Bhakashal fashion, Dulgau’s building was covered with vines and flowers. All buildings in the city of prophecy were so enshrouded.
Mikkra grabbed a vine, gave it a tug to see if it was strong enough, and began to climb. The deft Thaumaturge quickly scaled the wall diagonally, heading up and over to get to the open window she was seeking. Not taking anything for granted, she looked down periodically, and the breath left her chest for a moment. She saw what looked to be a trio of intoxicated Kutya stumbling down the alleyway. If they saw her and shouted out…
She froze in place, hugging the wall as best she could, melting into the shadows. None of the Kutya said anything, or appeared to notice her, and then they were gone.
Mikkra breathed out slowly, and kept climbing.
When she reached the windowsill she lifted her head just enough to peer over the edge, the hallway was empty within, two small oil lamps lit up the space somewhat fitfully, there was a stairway at the end of the hall that would lead up to the third floor and down to the first.
This was the most delicate phase of the operation. The two guards inside the building would be back up to this floor again very soon. Mikkra was very confident there were no traps in this hallway, she had seen the guards walk it, quite casually, many times. She bolted down the corridor in her soft leather boots and stopped at the stairs. Peering down to see no one there, she moved up the stairs to the third floor landing.
The guards stayed on the second floor, she had seen Dulgau enter the building hours earlier, he would either be in his room sleeping at this time or hard at work, either in his library or the basement. This was an unknown factor for Mikkra, she wished that Ayaster was here with her, the seer of Jannak would cast an augury and tell her where to go.
Alas, she was on her own, so she proceeded up the stairs to the roof. She had surmised the location of Dulgau’s bedroom several days ago, and you could reach his window from the roof above.
Every building in the city had a rooftop garden, and usually a rooftop guardian, to prevent exactly what Mikkra was about to do. She had snuck up to the rooftop of a nearby, slightly taller building earlier in the week and spotted the roof’s inhabitant, a battle scarred gess with a glass eye. Mikkra was betting it was one of Dulgau’s former mounts that he had retired and placed on his rooftop to deter thieves.
Mikkra heard the guards walking up the stairs from the first floor. One thing she did not know was if they checked the roof on their regular patrol, and if so how often. It was the middle of the night. She took out her sling and a bullet, ready to fire if needed. She held her breath and waited.
She heard the guards walking into the second floor.
Mikkra took out a scroll and very gently opened the door. It was locked from the inside, and she was as quiet as she could be. The door swung open and the big gess was lying on the rooftop, nestled in a bed of vemok flowers, looking out at the sky. The beast was awake but not looking her way.
Mikkra took the scroll and began to softly speak the words upon it, the beast showed no change of posture or position, either it couldn’t hear her or it didn’t care.
The symbols on the vellum quivered and shook, the magic charm was potent and seemed alive, eager to leave the page and enter the world. Mikkra felt the magic wash through her body, she became momentarily dizzy but quickly refocused, and felt her lips burning. It was time.
She spoke to the gess, “curl up over by the fountain and sleep, you are tired, old warrior, you deserve rest”. The beast turned to her, blinking and snorting, then raised it’s body up, took several strides to the other side of the roof, and curled up to sleep.
First problem solved.
Mikkra traversed the rooftop garden slowly, looking out for dangerous plants or traps of any kind, but nothing happened. She reached the point on the roof where she was directly over Dulgau’s bedroom. She had contemplated climbing directly there, but it was much more exposed, so a quick swing down from above was much less likely to reveal her.
Mikkra looked into the room from above, Dulgau was a typical Bhakashal warlock, rich silks on the bed, wall hangings of elaborate color and shape, soft pillow strewn about, expensive candlesticks and numerous statues and paintings of vile creatures and bold warlocks. Art and fine materials of all kinds.
It was excessive, just like it’s owner.
Dulgau was deep asleep on the bed, his quietly rising chest the only sign of life. Other than the warlock the only other living thing in the room appeared to be a tall flowering plant.
Mikkra turned and snuck back across to the roof and too the door. Here she had a decision to make, if she could get past the guards on the second floor she would be free until she reached the basement, or so she thought. One thing she did notice is that the men stopped in different 2nd floor rooms in their rotation. She knew she had about 20 min until they would go back down to the first floor again.
She just hoped they stayed in whatever room they had chosen.
She kept her sling at the ready, and moved down the stairs silently, when she reached the second floor she peered down the corridor, seeing noone. She bolted across the opening of the hallway and to the stairs down to the 1st floor. They opened into a small landing with two doorways off of it. One led to what appeared to be a kitchen, the other to a dining room and reception area
The lab, library must be on the second floor. Mikkra was tempted to try and find the library, she was hopeful she could surprise the guards and make short work of them, but she didn’t want to wake Dulgau.
She continued down the stairs until she was facing a door to the basement area. It was large and oaken, with symbols engraved upon it and burnt out. Mikkra had gambled that any sort of chamber would be protected by lock, trap and magical charm. Anything less would be suspect.
She had Dispel Magic available to her, but that ran the risk of not being sufficient to discharge the magic.
She decided instead on a different plan.
She waited in the shadows of the stairwell until the guards came down to the first floor. She listened intently and heard their descent. When the arrived one walked past the stairs to the basement but did not come down. Apparently they felt it worth avoiding. She crept up the stairs and waited until one of them emerged from a room and was walking away. She aimed her slingshot at his head, hoping to knock him out rather than do him in.
The stone sang from her hand and flew down the hallway, striking the saan firmly in the head.
The saan went down, disoriented and in agony.
Mikkra sprinted across the floor and dragged the big Saan along the floor, he was disoriented but not unconscious, Mikkra pulled him up to standing and placed Dovidenja at his neck, and held his arm behind him, jamming it upwards to cause some pain and jar him to attention.
“Make a sound, I slice you open and use your friend instead”
The Saan was disoriented and struggling to pull free, but he could not focus his strength. Mikkra walked him down the stairs to the basement.
“Open the door”
He pulled back and tried to resist, but she dug Dovidenja into his neck, pulling out a line of blood that dripped down his neck.
“Open it now”
The Saan reached out to the handle, pressed it, and his body began to stiffen and freeze, paralyzed in place. The runes on the door became smudged and unclear.
Mikkra pushed the body to the side and took out a scroll. The other guard would be here any second, she listened intently, and a moment later heard his hurried footsteps. Again she read the words on the scroll, with each one there was a charge, an electric jolt in her mind, then she reached up and touched her forehead. She pulled out an icy blue, sizzling spike of energy, that seemed to hover a mere hair’s breadth from her fingertip. She pulled her hand backwards and waited, while the spike hovered there…
Then the guard’s face appeared, Mikkra whipped the spike at the guard,, then drew out another from her forehead when that one was flying through the air. A third followed, the first struck true, slamming into his chest, and the guard trembled.
Mikkra charged up the stairs as the second and third struck him in the head and the shoulder. The shock from the magic had slain him, but his mind hadn’t processed the death of the body. He swayed, the fell forward… into Mikkra’s arms.
She dragged his body down to the landing. Unless anyone was looking they wouldn’t find them, the paralysis on the first guard would likely last a while.
She proceeded down to the door. She took out her tools and began to softly knock the door’s surface around the handle and lock to see if there were hollows that concealed inner machinery.
Satisfied that the door was just a door, she decided to move with alacrity. The whole exchange had seemed fairly quiet, but who knew?
She took out the scroll with Knock, upon it, Thaumaturges had no restrictions on how many spells they could cast per day, as all were read from scrolls, not cast from memory. Still, channeling magic in any form was fatiguing. In the interest of speed, she felt this was needed.
As the last words of the spell completed, the door popped open.
Mikkra peered inside, the room was dark but for several oil lamps that burned low and wan light into the room. There appeared to be no inhabitants. She dragged the two bodies into the room, and just for good measure gagged and bound the paralyzed Saan guard in case he woke early.
She began to explore the room. The lighting was very low, not intended for regular use, but she left it that way. She crept in slowly, Dovidenja in hand, and peered into the room. It was quite large, one room took up the entire circular footprint of the tower, and there were several large pillars spaced around the room.
But the center of the room commanded her attention.
Darkly stained slabs that were of the ideal height for laying out bodies. Axes, knives, hammers and saws.
Mikkra’s stomach sank, the room smelled of blood, she had blocked it out at first, focusing on whether or not the room was inhabited. But the smell was unmistakable.
Then she saw it.
Standing in the back of the room against a pillar. It was about 7 feet tall, and had gangly arms and long legs, a barrel chest and a slightly disproportionately large head for the torso. It was extremely muscular.
Then she noticed the lines, where the limbs joined the torso, where the upper and lower arms met. It was a patchwork man, sewn together from the parts of noble Bhakashal arena warriors, and used to create personal guards for Dulgau. Flesh golems. Dulgau was making golems out of dead warrior parts.
This was vile, a debasement of the honor of fallen warriors. Even animation into unlife was less offensive than this. Warriors raised to unlife can fight again, a collection of body parts was not a warrior brought back, it was an abomination.
She had the information Rasik would need.
She turned and the Saan who had been disoriented was awake, gagged and bound.
Mikkra approached him.
“What will Dulgau the Mournful do with you for letting me in here, will he chop you up and use you in one of those, you look pretty muscular, your arms would make a fine addition.”
Mikkra pointed to the golem, it’s large, oddly shaped head tilted down to the ground.
“You now know his secret, and you failed him, what kind of man is your master?”
The guard’s eyes flared wide, Mikkra had guessed correctly, he would be punished for his failure by death and dismemberment at the hands of the warlock.
“I can see that it doesn’t happen.”
The Saan looked at her in horror, and the Thaumaturge sliced his throat open.
She did not know when she would be discovered, but her plan was simple. She proceeded around the room and emptied the various oil lamps on to the furniture and the floor. She put out one of the burning lamps and poured it’s oil in a trail to the door. She then took the last burning lamp, ignited the trail and then poured it’s content on to the two bodies.
She then headed up the stairs.
It would take a few minutes until the guards outside noticed the fire. She bolted up the stairs as fast as she could move. She needed to get to the roof.
When she was passing the second floor she heard a sound that made her heart sink, footsteps on the floor. Dulgau was a formidable warlock, he had fought for House Jin in the arena, Mikkra had seen him several times. She decided that stealth was no longer in order. She took out a scroll and began to read the shimmering, incandescent words on its surface.
Omm-Karon’s Oscillating Orb
She saw the warlock’s door open and he ran into the hallway, as he emerged he saw Mikkra with her unfurled scroll, reading the words. His eyes flared open and he snarled, shouting at her, “In my home, you will not leave alive!”
He began to move his arms around, Mikkra was unsure what spell he was casting, and ignored it.
As she read the magical words a point in the air began to warp as if distorted by heat, and a small sphere appeared, about big enough to be held in a hand.
Mikkra squeezed it, the ball gave just slightly. She bounced it on the ground, once… twice… a third time, then she pulled it back and hurled it down the hall.
The ball shot past the warlock and he smirked as he chanted the words to the spell he was casting.
She had missed.
But Mikkra smiled, the “orb” was not meant to strike the warlock…
Yet.
It ricocheted off an wall behind the warlock and flew towards him, striking him in the back, this sent it to the wall, where it ricocheted back and struck him in the shoulder. The spell was designed for taking out large groups in enclosed spaces, but as the warlock was alone, he was bearing the brunt of each strike.
And more importantly, he couldn’t cast a spell, each strike on his body made it impossible.
Mikkra bolted up the stairs, knowing that the spell would only delay his wrath.
She reached the roof when she heard a roar from below.
Dulgau was not happy. He came up the stairs and stopped at the top. This time he was not going to attempt a slower, more intricate higher level spell for devastating effect, this time he was casting Reduce, his plan was to shrink and capture Mikkra. His secret could not get out, there were some, even in his own house, who would have his hide for this. Dishonoring warriors was an egregious violation of their honor.
It would not stand and he knew it.
His hands were completing the gesture to cast the spell, he could see Mikkra near the far side of the roof, she stood smiling, waiting…
Then the giant lizard sprung. The charm was still in place, and the beast was compelled to block it’s former master. Mikkra had instructed the beast to obstruct the warlock, push him back down the stairs. She reasoned that he would not immediately slay the beast out of affection, and this would buy her some time.
She looked and smoke billowed out of the windows below. Soon there would be ward guards here, likely with a seer or a beastial that could douse the fire with water. She was hoping it would burn out, as much of the basement was filled with stone, there was a limited amount of wooden furniture, and the basement was enclosed.
She donned her magical glasses and scanned the streets, she saw two separate patrols on their way to the tower from blocks away. They would be here soon. She took out the scroll with Feather Fall on it, whispering the words as the House Jin patrols moved closer to the tower. Behind her Dulgau cursed the giant lizard, he realized it was charmed and it was pushing forward, forcing him further down the stairs.
Mikkra leapt off the roof.
Falling down, back and forth, at the mercy of the wind, she drifted down into a nearby alley. Footsteps were approaching the tower. She bolted down the alley and found a collection of barrels behind what was, if she remembered, a tavern.
The Thaumaturge crouched in the shadows, watching as a House Jin light patrol with what appeared to be a beastial (the white robes and animal masks were always a giveaway, this one had a boar mask) passed by. No one seemed to notice her hidden in the darkness.
They would be preoccupied with the fire, and she could make her way slowly through the ward until she found some clustered buildings, then she would take to the rooftops. She knew Dulgau the Mournful’s secret, and soon her patron would know it as well. Dulgau might be able to stave off the inquiries of the guards, and they might not investigate, but Rasik Silver Hand would now know his secret, and that left open the possibility of blackmail, or selling the secret to one of his rivals who wanted him discredited. They might even approach the Temple, the Seers could punish him in ways that defied all reason… healing magic could keep you alive through many things. Most likely Rasik would blackmail the House Jin warlock, and get him to become one of his agents.
What Mikkra did know without a doubt was that she would be richly rewarded for passing on this information to her patron, and that thought warmed her as she slipped through the night streets back to Rasik’s estate…
Analysis
So every once in a while I get asked to run a single PC adventure, sometimes for my regular game PCs, sometimes as a one shot. A few weeks ago I was asked to run a one-shot game for a single player, a friend of mine who I worked with several years ago. We were talking and I had mentioned that I run D&D games, she wanted to give it a try. I recycled an earlier adventure I had run for a small party. She was going to try it solo.
We agreed ahead of time that this was not going to be a “gimme”, if she failed to achieve her goals by the end of the session so be it, if she was slain so be it. She wanted to be challenged, and to run the risk of losing, not to have me push her through to make it “dramatic”. Some people like the competitive aspect of the game, to be challenged, not “entertained”.
So I sent her Mikkra the Rhodolite, an Emberi (human) Bhakashal Thaumaturge. Thaumaturges are thief/magic-users, but they cast all their spells from scrolls only. This means they are constantly changing their selection of spells as they use them. It also means that they don’t fiddle around with “to know” rolls or spell casting failure/reversal, reading spells of scrolls has advantages.
She had the character sheet for a week or so when she played. She was in character as she met her patron and received the task. I told her that Garudin flying bodies to the Raosk were disappearing, the planning I discussed above, everything from waiting in the marshes and watching with her Eyes of the Eagle to plying one of the warlock’s servants with ale, renting a room near the tower, watching the guards, that was all her.
Some players dive in, some are methodical. We spent the first hour and a half of play doing all of that casing and setup, it involved me setting odds for various things and rolling to see how and when they would resolve. Some encounters were “real time”, others were sorted out with a few minutes of discussion and rolls. She wanted to set up as much as she could before going in, and it really let me lean into the setting, her target was in a particular ward, so that ward’s stats and features were part of the process. This added a lot of flavor to the encounter.
With solo play you can do this sort of thing as you only have the one player to address, and if they are into it, then you are good.
To give just one example. She chose to case the building for several days to observe the movements of the guards, to see if there was a pattern to them she could exploit. She did this for four days, with the guards doing the same routine each night, before she decided that it would be safe to assume it was fixed. That was her decision. I rolled to see if they changed the rotation (they did not), so it was up to her to decide when to stop.
Strip away the discussion of the mechanics and this is what a Bhakashal session looks like after the fact, heavily influenced by factional interests, risk-management is prominent, and smart play can make a conclusive difference to outcomes. If this had been a long term game it might have been different, for example, the player may have chosen not to use spells as they are one use only. So it reflects the realities of the single player experience.
It was a blast, and she was extremely proud of herself for getting out of there in one piece with the information she set out to find.
Good, pulpy, urban fun.
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