The Glassworks

After the feint, the strike! This dungeon came out a little more vanilla than I expected it to, I think because the initial idea that I was excited about (Cenobites haunting a construction site) is actually just very close to any given demon-haunted elfgame ruin. So it goes!

This is the OST, I have been on another Mica Levi kick recently. 

The Waste Ground

These two structures are built in what Baronials would think of as the 'Modern' style - stone walls, but for industrial use, not fortification. The southern structure has two tall chimneys built into it. The structures are noticeably unfinished; there is no roofing on anything. Crude and probably-intended-to-be-temporary wooden shacks are built in clusters over the top of the stone shell. At night, the tallest of these, which is situated on the third level and has multiple rooms, is lit up as though with lanterns. 

The ground around the structures is totally bare of plant life for around fifty metres, as though salted or poisoned. If you touch it with bare skin, you feel irritation. If you have a large part of your bare skin, say your face or whole arm, pressed into contact with it for several seconds, you must save CON or take 1 caustic damage. 

When it rains, this whole area turns to mud. If you find yourself knocked prone into this mud, you must save CON or take 1 caustic damage every turn until you take a full turn to wipe the stuff away. Not having skin, or being fully sealed into armour or protective gear, will protect you.

The Foundations

All thick walls are mortared stone, 5ft thick. There is a lot of masonry being supported by the foundations. Thin walls are timber, on timber framing, unpainted and unsealed. All floors are earth, or stone beneath the stone walls. The sense is of a space under construction, not a finished building. 

There are no ceilings over most of the space. The enclosed timber rooms have crude timber roofing, and some sections are layered over by a second level of stone construction, and are covered by the flooring of this second level (these are noted in their room descriptions). The rest of the space is open to the elements. When it rains the floors turn to mud, as described in The Waste Ground, above. 

Timber walls can be dismantled and beaten down with blunt weapons, sledgehammers, crowbars, etc. They were not sturdily made in the first place, and the elements have degraded and rotted them. 

Columns are the same stone as the walls, and rest on stone foundations. 

Large doors are iron, and set into the stone walls with iron fixings. None have locks fitted. Small doors are ramshackle timber coverings, many of them not even hinged (you lift them into and out of place). There are several 'secret' areas; void spaces between wooden walls. There are no hidden entrances into these - the inhabitants of the space simply remove or tear down sections of wall to access them, and then rebuild them afterwards.  

While exploring the foundations, roll on the following encounter table once per half hour:

• 1-11: Nothing. The wind moves over the walls, tiny sounds carry, the rude structures around you are as still as corpses. 
• 12-15: Stealthy movements further in, a door opening in the next room, banging on hollow timber walls, footsteps running above you. Further rolls on this table are at +2. 
• 16-18: 2d6 Feral Cats, bug-eyed, mange-ridden, hissing and yowling. 
• 19-20: d4 Deadites, weeping, laughing, arguing in horrible gurgling voices, muttering obscenities, trying to remember each other's names. If all of them have been killed, treat this result as a 21+. 
• 21+: A Demon, wearing someone's body like an ill-fitting jacket, come down from the upper levels to investigate the commotion. Roll on the table to determine which. 

There are 12 Deadites in the location, and enough Feral Cats around that you can never kill enough to stop them appearing on the table. 

The Foundations. Click to make it bigger. 

Room Key - Foundations

1. Engines. Enclosed with a stone ceiling, and completely dark. Reeks strongly of decay, blood, and filth, stronger the closer you get to the wooden eastern wall. Along the northern wall are four wooden wheelbarrows, and 3 wooden pull carts, all useable. Along the southern, boxes of iron pulleys and hooks (rusty but serviceable), 300ft of rotted rope (unusable), a box full of folded sheets of waxed cloth. By the southern door is a large chest full of iron articulated limbs; replacements for mannequin bodies, rusted to immobility. 
2. Tools - Site. A wooden table, and iron racking fastened into the stone walls. On the racks hang 6 sledgehammers, 5 picks, and 8 shovels. On the table are 4 hammers, a bucket of 4-inch iron nails, six chisels, a wooden mallet, a crowbar, a hand saw, a crowbar, and a pair of long-handled wire cutters. Also a green-glass bottle of acid, and an expensive-looking drinking glass of good, clean drinking water. All tools show signs of use, and all are oiled and well maintained. 
3. Rest. Wooden benches and rough shelving. The benches are rotten like the walls, but still safe to sit on. Whatever was once stored on the shelving has putrified into mould and brown liquid. 
4. Sundries. Rusted iron hooks fastened into the walls, pulped paper in heaps on the wet floor. One hook holds the remains of a canvas bag, the rest are empty.
5. Pantry. Dry and well-maintained, compared to the other wooden rooms in the section. Sturdy timber shelving holds large sacks of wheat, beans, and flour, each requiring a combined STR of 24 to move. Higher up, clay jars of salt, vegetable oil, and tallow fat. There are 200 rations worth of food in here, and the whole is probably worth around 1000s if you can transport it. 
6. First Garden. 22 large ceramic pots are spaced along the walls of the space, which is open to the sky. Each contains a healthy and vibrant collection of leafy greens or tubers. If you know your ingredients you will see this immediately. There are also four smaller pots hanging from hooks secured to the wooden walls of 5. Pantry - these contain cooking herbs of various kinds. Harvesting the crop in her will yield 30 extremely tasty rations, and the herbs can additionally season up to 20 iron rations to make them perfectly palatable. If you encounter Deadites in this space, they will be tending to the plants, pruning, watering, etc. This is the only thing they can do without any difficulty, frustration, or hesitation.
7. Second Garden. Open to the sky. Elaborate wooden planters take up much of the central area; these are planted with tomatoes and strawberries, among other more common baronial crops. Any adventurer knows that this should be impossible - those are mountain crops. There are 4d6 ripe tomatoes, each worth 2s, and 6d6 ripe strawberries, each worth 3s. There are additionally, another 50 very high quality rations in tubers, cresses, and other crops. Along the southern edge of the space are sixteen pots containing thriving jasmine plants, which are in flower and smell wonderful. Several have been placed by the stone pillars, and have used them as climbers. The stone pillars would have held up a second level, which was never built - now each stands alone, twined with flowers.  
8. Dismemberment. The air in here is close, and smells of blood. A long wooden table along the northern wall, heavily bloodstained. A well-handled light cleaver and light paring knife sit on the surface, clean and recently sharpened. Iron buckets beneath the table, stained like the rest. 
9. Stitching, Preservation. Two large and sturdy wooden work benches, installed to the north of the three useless stone pillars. One has shears, thread, sinew, needles, and awls like a leatherworkers workshop, all useable gear for a specialist. The other has three empty iron tubs, 24 glass bottles full of various preservatives, a large glass bottle of white spirits, and a block of wax about a metre long, partially melted. The preservatives are valuable to a chemist, and could each be sold for 40s; they are 3 to a slot, but extremely fragile. They are also flammable. 
10. Fertiliser. Smells faintly of the latrine, but more strongly of damp and sawdust. Four large, ceramic dishes are filled with excrement, potash, and sawdust, and covered with waterproofed tarpaulin, weighted down with stones. 
11. Tools - Garden. Wooden surface against the western wall, which houses four pairs of secateurs, five trowels, 20ft of copper wire, an oil lantern, and three watering cans. A rake and hoe lean against the wall. All tools are well-kept and obviously recently used. 
12. Library. Unlike the garden areas, has a stone ceiling. Smells really bad, like blood and shit, and worse as you get towards the western wooden wall. The staircase is bare stone, and leads into the second level of the complex. It has no guard rails. There are four rotted wooden chairs scattered around, and two ancient bookcases, each holding 4d6 books, and draped in a waterproof sheet of tarpaulin. The books are mostly fiction, and all are of poor to middling quality. They have not been selected with any particular subject in mind, and quite a few are bloodstained or torn up. If you encounter Deadites in this room, they will be huddled around a single oil lantern, seated in the chairs, and holding their books up to their ruined eyes. If you let them read without disturbing them, they will smile, laugh, and discuss choice passages with one another until they notice your presence. 
13. Secret. A secret stash of money and valuables stripped from the corpses of travellers and other adventurers who got too curious about the glassworks. All of the following are loose, and dumped without ceremony: 2d6 gold coins, 100+10d60 silver pieces, 4d6 pieces of jewellery, each worth 100+2d100 silver, 4d6 pieces of fashionable clothing, torn and bloodied and stamped into the mud, and now worth nothing. 
14. Trap Space. A jumble of sharp metal, broken glass, razor wire, spikes, and putrid offal and waste. Slightly pressurised against the walls, to punish those searching for secrets. Smells nearly unbelievably foul. If you smash through the walls into this space without taking precautions, who will need to save DEX or take d6 slashing or piercing damage. If you fall in here, or are thrown in, you take d10 slashing or piercing damage, or d4 if you are wearing heavy armour. Anyone who takes any damage from the contents of this room must save CON or take an additional d6 poison damage. Whether or not they save, their wounds will become infected unless properly sterilised, and they are exposed to a random disease. 
15. Third Garden. This space, outside of the overhang area between the stone pillars, is open to the sky. Four very large wooden tubs each hold an apple tree, three others hold pear trees. The fruit is ripe and very sweet - 10 rations worth. In the open area beneath the overhang, iron chairs and an iron table have been set up. A large straw hat and a bottle of good whiskey worth 50s lie on the table. 
16. Charcoal Storage. Six massive sacks of charcoal pushed against the wall, each far too large to move by hand. This is an industrial quantity of material, worth around 2500s if shifted. The floor and walls are dirty black, and footsteps track both in and out of this room. 
17. Sand Storage. Twenty four large sacks of sand, each one mobile with a combined STR of 40. The sand is not local, and would have been expensive to import. To a glass-maker with the capacity to make use of it (rare in the Barony), this would be worth 3000s. A long wooden shelf run along the eastern wall. On it rests an unlit but fuelled lantern, and a strange knife, apparently made from a single piece of glass. Counts as a light weapon -1, which shatters inside its target on a critical hit. This deals d6 damage per turn the target moves or acts, until they spend a turn fishing it out (which also triggers the damage). On a critical miss, it instead shatters in your hand and deals d3 broken glass damage. 
18. Shrine. An iron table with a blasphemous timeline painted onto its surface in thick white paint (it appears to show all events of the past and future finding their temporal origin in the present, a curious and historically rare heresy). A small, lit ceramic oil lamp burns on the table, and 48 tally marks have been made on the wall above it, in the same thick white paint. The first tallies are old, and the last ones very fresh. Otherwise empty. 
19. Northern Furnace. The iron door open outwards, and have been barricaded with iron and wooden poles, such that neither they, nor the door to 20. Southern Furnace, can be opened. The doors have been painted with white paint, with what looks like a finger: DO NOT OPEN. DO NOT OPEN. WE ARE DEMONS AND WE SAY: DO NOT OPEN. Inside the furnace the floor and walls are covered in a contiguous mass of black, solidified glass. Its surface has been chipped and broken after it cooled, and walking on its surface without shoes (or being grappled on it without armour) deals d2 slashing damage, with a DEX save to negate. Rom the Strangler sits against the western wall, completely still.
20. Southern Furnace. The iron doors are blocked up just like those to the north - if you clear one, you also clear the other. The inside is packed with a thick layer of charcoal and sand, ready for firing. It would take a bit to catch, but once lit it would function as designed, and produce a large mass of glass, which would cool and harden over the next 24 hours. 
21. Scrap Metal. A continuation of the open space of 15. Third Garden, and similarly open to the air. Empty save for two huge steel bins full of broken and twisted scrap metal, and a small portable iron forge installed against the northern wall. If you fall inside the bins for some reason, or are thrown in, you take d10 slashing or piercing damage, or d4 if you are wearing heavy armour. The forge is unlit, but functional. The staircase is stone, and leads up to the covered area between the stone pillars. It has no guard rails. 
22. Record. Thousands of lines of diaristic writing, variously scratched and painted into the stone, eastern wall. There are many different hands, and much of the writing is concerned with remembering things, especially people's personalities and preferences, and the specifics of relationships with them. There is also plenty of material about missions and targets, and about the preciousness and beauty of sense data. Very weirdly, to a Baronial, there is emoji use (as in :( and :), not modern emojis). A lot of the stuff on the wall is very sad, and a lot of it is coldblooded, violent, and frightening. Someone studying it for a couple of minutes will discern 14 distinct hands. 

The Upper Levels

The Upper Levels are of the same stone and timber construction as the foundations. The long, thin 'corridors' that run around the outside of the two stone rooms are actually wooden gantry structures secured into the stone - they have no hand rails, and are slippery and not in good repair. Adventurers travelling carefully can traverse them without issue, but if you had to sprint across them in the rain or similar you would need to save DEX or fall. 

As with the foundations, the ceiling and roofs were never installed over the stone superstructure, but the wooden rooms are all fully enclosed with rough timber. As with below, the state of the timber is not good, and walls can be bashed down and pried apart fairly easily. 

The Deadites are not normally allowed onto the second level, although they will happily chase you up there in the heat of conflict. 

For every 15 mins spent exploring the Upper Levels, roll on the following encounter table. Unlike most other encounter tables, the one for the Upper Levels uses a d6. 

• 1-3: Nothing. The sky above you, the wind. 
• 4-5: You can hear them; you can almost smell them. Further rolls on this table are at +1. 
• 6: A Demon, staring at you from behind a corpse's face, fixed and unblinking. Roll to see which you encounter. 
• 7: 2 Demons, hunting together. Randomly determine which. 
• 8+: All remaining Demons in the module. 

The Upper Levels. Click to make it bigger. 

Room Key - Upper Levels

1. Glass Blowing/Books. Fully enclosed with a rough timber ceiling. Along the northern wall are iron bench tops with the necessaries for glass blowing, a small iron stove, powdered pigments in glass jars, and iron bins beneath the tabletop filled with chunks of raw glass. Resting on shelving fastened into the wall are blown-glass wares of various types, mostly glasses and bottles (4 slots worth in all, worth 100s, very fragile), but also a light glass knife (as in 17. Sand Storage), 8 glass darts (as light darts, but shatter inside the target on a crit), and 24 glass bullets (as normal bullets, but improve their damage dice one step against unarmoured or lightly armoured targets, and decrease it one step against heavily armoured targets). All glass wares are transparent, and stained in bright primary colours, either white, blue, red, green, yellow, or black. Along the southern wall are wooden bookshelves, with 37 volumes, each individually wrapped in waxed cloth to protect them from the damp of the room. 12 of these are treatises from gnostic academics, discussing the wars of the future, 25 of them appear to be original manuscripts on the same topic. All are written in the same hand. They are highly technical and unbelievably verbose, but contain original research of a very high standard. To a specialist from the capital academies each would be worth 200s easily - the church would pay the same to have them destroyed, and kill you for owning them if you refused. 
2. Blood/Spare. Towards the back of the room is a thin, three-foot-tall glass amphora on an iron stand. It is obviously bloodstained, but currently empty. Pushed against the western wall is a large iron trunk, which is bolted shut from the inside. If you can get it open you will discover a folded up and decapitated human corpse, with a large red-glass glass centipede head positioned where the human one should be. Close inspection will reveal that the verminhead is hollow, and secured to the corpse with a long glass spike thrust down the neck. If you smash this centipede head, the demon Once Was Forethought will no longer be able to cheat death using its spare body. 
3. Kitchen. A clean and well-kept kitchen space, enclosed and brightly lit with two lamps. Wide wooden surfaces against the walls, chopping boards, salt, red wine, and oil in glass jars, a tin basin full of clean water, a potbelly stove, a small pile of firewood by the door. Two light paring knives and one light meat tenderiser are laying on the surfaces. Fresh herbs hang in twine bundles from the ceiling - 2 inventory spaces, enough to flavour 20 iron rations. 
4. Chimneys/Mirrors. Open to the elements. Eight large, chipped, tarnished, and filthy mirrors stand against the walls. Entities won't want to be in this room, and will take 1 psychic damage per turn that they are forced to. The two chimneys jut up through the floor and into the empty air. If the southern furnace has been fired, the southern chimney will be hot enough to deal d6 damage to anyone pressed against it. The opening in the north wall has obviously been smashed open with hammers. 
5. Gantries. Wooden, rotting, slippery, with no railings. If you have to run on them and it's raining, save DEX or slip and fall. The stairs in the northwestern corner lead up the the third level, and the Homestead. 
6. Gold/Smut. This room is fully enclosed. The walls are covered in gold and brass objects of all sorts, attached with iron nails or on small, provisional wooden shelves: there are coins and jewellery, but also gold-leaf carved picture frames, brass candlesticks and other domestic objects. There are 116 gold coins, jewellery worth 850s (2 INV slots), and various sundries (14 INV) worth 90s all up. Against the southern wall are two watertight sea chests - neither is locked. Inside is a large collection of literary and pictorial erotica, most of it cheap and clearly produced in the capital, but some from further afield, and a very few from the White City. The whole collection would be worth 100s to a bookshop, or 300s to an aficionado, but there is nothing truly rare or valuable in the stash. 12 INV worth of books in both chests. The room is lit with two candles in oversized brass candlesticks, and the burnished surfaces of metal glow pleasantly. 
7. Bedroom. An oddly well-appointed bedroom, kept more watertight than the rest of the timber structures, and furnished in the style of the capital - threadbare rugs, soft furnishings on the walls, low wooden furniture, a large and comfortable looking bed. A single book from the smut collection lies open and pages-down on the pillow. 
8. Hot Growth. This room sits about about 40 degrees. it has been sealed with pitch, and houses a small, smouldering iron stove in one corner. If the exterior is rained on, it will visibly steam. Inside there are 8 large glass containers, filled with earth and extremely vigorous plant life. There is no light in the room, and the growth will feel unnatural to the PCs who discover it. Most of the containers are growing beautiful orchids, each worth 50s if you could get them to the capital unspoiled (as difficult to transport as any fresh flower). One of them has a Black Lotus, which can be used to make a very potent hallucinogen infamous for erasing memories and entire personalities, or an extremely potent poison. The flower of the Black Lotus is worth 200s fresh, and 80s dried. If you eat them the flower preparing it, you lose d3 WIS and CON, but gain d3 CHAR. 
9. Antechamber. The hole in the stone wall has obviously been smashed in with sledgehammers. This room is empty, cheerful, and dry. Three ragged but tasteful rugs on the floor. 
10. Meditation. A mostly bare room, with a sitting cushion in the centre of the floor and a lit candle placed in front of it. Next to the candle are two ground-glass lenses on wire stands. 
11. Bodies. Eight naked human corpses, stuffed with sawdust and preservatives, all with a second pair of arms sewn on beneath the armpits. They are have been carefully folded into foetal positions, and sit against the western wall in a row. 
12. Armoury. Weapons arranged on the walls with iron hooks: 2 muskets, 3 pistols, 6 spears, 12 medium swords of various makes, 6 light daggers and shortswords. Two complete sets of medium armour on stands. All of this equipment is well-maintained. On a small wooden table are seven strings of wire, twisted to incorporate rough chunks of glass along their lengths. 
13. Restraints. Loops of wire securely fastened to the northern stone wall. There are six sets of loops, and they can be loosened or tightened with a timber twisting bar. Each set has wire loops that clearly correspond to the neck, upper and lower arms, torso, and thighs of a human. The wall behind them is darkly stained. Currently empty. 
14. Storage. A storage room full of metal and carved wood sculptures covered in waterproof cloth. These are amateur works, and not worth much, even to a collector. There are also around forty large painting canvases, also wrapped up, leant against the wall. They are mostly studies for portraits, and few chaos scenes. The quality and confidence is generally higher than the sculptures, but these are still not worth anything. Finally, there are 18 medium-sized woven tapestries, wrapped in waterproofing - these are of very high quality, and each worth 200+d4(100) silver. Each is bulky and awkward - 8 INV. 
15. Gallery. This room is clean and brightly lit with two lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The walls have been whitewashed. Two large paintings on board have been hung for viewing. The first is a portrait of the Weaver, and has obviously been painted by someone who is in love with her. It is very beautiful. The other is a chaos scene, well realised and completely competent, but without the ease and confidence of the portrait. The portrait might sell for 20-30s to a sentimentalist. 

The Homestead

Unlike the rest of the Glassworks, the Homestead is sturdily built from new timber. The interior is dry, clean, and inviting. There are glass windows in all rooms, which gives it excellent natural light. 

There are no wandering encounters in the Homestead. 

The Homestead. Click to make it bigger. 

Room Key - The Homestead

1. Kitchen/Dining. A large, bright, and spacious room. Smells of good cooking. An iron stove, a wood pile, a large table, six chairs. The table is covered in sketches on cheap paper. The Weaver and the Painter are seated, talking together about nothing much, just to pass the time in one another's company.
2. Studio. Comfortable soft furnishings. The northern side is dedicated to paintings, and has pigments, brushes, and half-finished boards scattered around. The southern side features a spinning wheel and a distaff, and is where the Weaver will make her tapestries and tell your fortune, should you ask her to. 
3. Bedroom. Simple, clean, comfortable. Good light. A large bed, and walls decorated with the Painter's work. A light smallsword hangs on the wall, but neither the Weaver nor Artist really know how to use it. 
4. Bathing. An empty iron tub, a basin full of fresh water, a small iron brazier, currently empty. A shaving razor and a small shard of mirror on an iron stand. 

Bestiary

Feral Cats

Packs of feral cats roam the foundations, predators and carrion-eaters, sustained by the steady supply of corpses left by the more permanent inhabitants. Sleek, silent, intelligent, and very dangerous in large packs, even to seasoned adventurers. Each is about the size of an Alsatian. 

HD1, claws (as dual-wielded light slashing), unarmoured, speed: twice human, disposition: territorial, skittish, prey-stalking, opportunistic. On a positive reaction roll, a group of Feral Cats will simply run past you at top speed, hissing and spitting, like a horrible feline carpet. 

Feral Cats move completely silently, see in the dark, and don't take fall damage. Their attacks deal +1 damage against targets with less than half of their HP remaining, and they attack these targets preferentially. 

A Feral Cat that rolls max HP is an Abomination, and can speak with the voice of a human child. It doesn't understand what it's saying, but knows which stock phrases will get adventurers to investigate or let their guard down, mostly stuff like 'Please help me,' or 'I'm so scared...' Abominations can also see invisible things. 

Deadites

Demons whose minds have regressed into near-total incoherence. Each has made their way individually to the Glassworks following rumours of safety for their kind. Now they murder travellers for bodies and supplies, under instruction from the stronger-willed demons who live above. The Deadites use hand-me-down corpse-puppets in various stages of decomposition, significantly held together with wire. They are enthusiastic but unreliable workers and guards, given to bouts of depression, confusion, fear, and rage. 

HD2+1, armed as weapon: 1/3 unarmed, 1/3 improvised (mostly gardening tools, secateurs, rakes, watering cans, etc.), 1/3 light (knives, clubs, shards of glass, etc.). Unarmoured, movement: as human whose tendons are fucked, disposition: someone who does no longer trusts their own mind, and who has been socialised into violently killing people who contradict or frighten them. Their voices are from the throats of corpses, horrible, gurgling, insane. 

Deadites with 9 or more HP are puppeting fresh corpses; they roll all damage and grappling checks at +1, and take -1 damage from physical attacks.

Deadites with 4 or less HP are nearly completely decomposed. They can't talk, roll all damage at -1, and take +1 damage from physical attacks. 

Deadites who roll full hp look unnervingly human and alive, if slightly pale, and can talk in a normal voice. Their puppets were probably killed less than 48 hours ago. 

Their possessing minds are too far gone to really persist after the destruction of the body, but when they die, the one who struck the killing blow must test CHAR. On a failure, they suffer -1 to all mental stats for one hour, as the dregs of its consciousness scream incoherently into their ear as they dissipate. You don't have to test if you killed the Deadite using psychic damage. 

If any of the Deadites see you carrying any of the produce from the Gardens, they will assume that you are thieves and attack on sight. They are less covetous of dry goods and valuables. 

Dramatis Personae

The Demons

Powerful and intelligent future minds, whose various missions have been completed (or forgotten), and who have banded together in the Glassworks for mutual security. They command the Deadites, and fear losing their minds and becoming like them. All of them are fiercely protective of the Homestead on the third level. Unlike most demons, they are not aggressive on sight and actually enjoy company. They won't let you leave, and will probably torture, rob, and kill you, but see no point in rushing this unnecessarily. 

All demons will survive the destruction of their puppet bodies, but it will take them at least two days to gather the strength to possess a new corpse. If slain by psychic damage, they are destroyed permanently. 

When you need a specific demon, roll on the following table:

1. Disgust Which Is Fear
   
   Disgust Which Is Fear looks like a handsome, naked, smiling man with an extra pair of arms stitched onto his body beneath the normal pair. It has wrapped and draped its host entirely in strings of wire and glass, shaped and worked to resemble expensive jewellery. 
   
   HD4, hideous strength (technically unarmed, but attacks four times as with a light weapon), unarmoured but takes -1 from all physical damage, speed: as human, disposition: cruel and notably narcissistic. It automatically crits prone targets with its attacks. The demon most likely to kill you on sight, for no reason at all.
   
   Disgust Which Is Fear wears hundreds of pieces of worked glass and wire. These are worthless and have a resale value around 30s as odd costume jewellery, but aesthetes and artists have a 50/50 chance of either valuing them around 5000s, or doing anything in their power to have them destroyed. 
   
   Disgust Which Is Fear never stops smiling and never blinks. It delights in throwing victims into the large bins in 21. Scrap Metal, and stamping them to death there. 
   
   
   
2. Once Was Forethought
   
   A rotting woman's corpse with a black-glass wasp's head where the human one should be. The glass head is roughly the size of a human's, and has a spike at its base that has been driven into the neck of the puppet body. Its compound eyes constantly weep fresh water. Once Was Forethought has no mouth and cannot speak, but it can write, and carries a quill and ink for the purpose. It has dressed its rotting puppet body in finely-made but soiled robes, out of half-remembered modesty. It holds a long, heavy sword, of the same black glass as its head. 
   
   HD2, heavy glass sword, which shatters inside the target on a crit, as the glass knife in 17. Sand Storage, turning into a medium glass sword. If it shatters again, it is a light glass sword. After it shatters for the final time, One Was Forethought will be unarmed. Unarmoured, takes -1 damage from physical attacks, speed: as human, disposition: curious, bookish, calculating, but also a lover of filth, rot, and degradation. Has a special hatred for visibly religious characters, and will probably attack them on sight. 
   
   The glass wasp head is hollow, and can 'drink' the blood of restrained or freshly killed enemies by inserting needle-like mouth parts. Each turn that it spends doing this gives Once Was Forethought a single point of temporary HP, to a maximum of 20. When you encounter it for the first time, it is already 1/4 full and Once Was Forethought has 5 temp HP. All bludgeoning melee weapons and firearms count as vorpal against this demon. Smash the blood head!
   
   If it dies, Once Was Forethought immediately 'wakes up' in the spare body stashed in 2. Blood/Spare. If both of these glass heads are destroyed, Once Was Forethought is killed permanently. 
   
   Once Was Forethought studies the future and the history of the timeline, and considers itself a learned gnostic. It maintains correspondence with human scholars, and even publishes on the topic. It may spare your life in exchange for books or perspectives on the topic that it has not yet come across. 
   
   
   
3. Desolation
   
   A fat, nude corpse, with iron teeth and iron hands, elaborately made-up with cosmetics and perfumes. Desolation's puppet corpse always smells exactly like the person that you most desire.
   
   HD4, bite (as medium piercing, crit range 19-20), pummel (as medium bludgeoning x 2), unarmoured, but takes -1 damage from all physical attacks, bewitching scent (-1 to hit Desolation in melee), speed: as human, disposition: really likes talking to people, and will try to keep a conversation going in any way that it can. Pitiable in this, but confident and calm when talking about things that they enjoy: mostly cooking, gardening, and their friends in the homestead. Palpably doing its best to keep things together mentally, but fraying badly. Terrified of madness, and of showing weakness to the other demons. 
   
   Desolation is a supernaturally gifted chef, and tends the foundation gardens with the help of the Deadites. Eating one of its meals, provided that it has both the time and ingredients it needs to work, will give you d3 temporary HP. 
   
   
   
4. Mire of Hatred
   
   Mire of Hatred puppets an enormous White Ape corpse, cut up and mangled, with the top half of its head cut off and replaced with a tall crown made from wax. The puppet corpse's jaws and throat are still intact, and a small spider lives in its esophagus, through whose eyes Mire of Hatred can see. To look at you, the demon must open up the jaws of the ape puppet so that the spider can see out. 
   
   HD4, Claws that Catch (as medium +1 weapons, dual-wielded), armour: as leather and takes -1 from all physical attacks, speed: as human, disposition: impatient, good-humoured, physical, brusque, funny. Loves gold, beautiful things, and the taste of blood. Might spare your life in exchange for high quality erotica or pornography, but forgets promises easily. 
   
   If you find yourself in a grapple with Mire of Hatred, the spider in its throat will crawl out attempt to bite you as you struggle. Each turn, save CON. If you fail, you are stunned for 1 turn, and lose 1 CON and 1 INT permanently. If you kill the spider, which has 0 hp and cannot usually be independently targeted, Mire of Hatred will be permanently blinded, immediately panic, and start trying to kill everything around it, friend or foe.

Disgust Which Is Fear and Mire Of Hatred violently despise one another, and will avoid contact where possible. Once Was Forethought doesn't think much about the other demons at all. Desolation fears the others greatly, and might be induced to act rashly against them if pushed. 

Rom the Strangler

Rom the Strangler is a very ancient and utterly reviled demon, even by others of its kind. It looks like a featureless iron mannequin-body, with its metal hands stained a strange, glistening red - not like blood, closer to high-gloss car paint. Rom is accompanied by a feeling of nearly indescribable heavy foulness and despair.

HD4, iron fist x2 (as heavy bludgeoning weapons), armour: as plate, iron body (takes 1 damage per physical attack), movement: frighteningly fast, twice human speed, completely silent, disposition: nightmare abuser, driven to batter and humiliate its victims before it kills them. 

Rom's attacks drain 1 CHAR every time they hit - save CHAR to resist this. If both Rom's attacks hit the same target in a single turn, they are now being strangled. Both Rom and the target are unable to move for the duration, and the target must save STR at disadvantage each turn, or take d10 damage, and permanently lose d4 from all mental stats. If they successfully save STR, they break free and end the strangle, otherwise both are locked in place until one of them is killed. Melee attacks against Rom while it is strangling someone hit automatically. 

All damage dealt by Rom is also dealt as fear damage. 

If Rom's puppet body is slain, its mind will remain faintly visible as something like a heat haze in the air above it. To someone with Artist or Academic templates, or someone who can see invisible things, it it visible as a human-shaped white nothingness, a hole in the universe. Seeing it this way, or being within 10ft of it whether or not you can see it, deals d6 psychic damage per combat turn. This mind-form will fade over 48 hours, and will then recohere somewhere else in the world. It will recohere even if you kill it with psychic damage - no one has figured out how to kill Rom for good yet. 

Rom never has anything to say. 

The Painter

A young man who was born in the capital. The husband of the Weaver. His name is Parvel, and he loves his wife, and gets along well with the demons, who keep him in food and paint. In return he offers them a strange kind of friendship; he talks about painting, about human emotions, about the capital. No longer ambitious, having found his happiness. Loves to cook. Aware of how the demons operate, but has convinced himself that most people wish him and his wife harm, and so has made peace with it. Stats as commoner. 

The Weaver

A clever and funny young woman, with bright eyes and long red hair. Loves her husband, and sees the future. In the Barony, predication and statistical modelling are noble, even religious sciences - they are said to be the method by which God manages its timeline. Genuine prophecy is an obscenity. The Weaver, whose name is Galen, was nearly killed by the church when it was discovered that she had visions of the future, and fled the capital with Parvel nearly five years ago. They found the demons haunting the glassworks, and struck up an unlikely kinship. All of the demons know about her gift, and all are terrified of it - they like her a lot though, she is very personable. She keeps Parvel grounded, and he helps her with her cyclical depressions. Stats as commoner. 

If you ask her to, and she likes you, Galen might tell you your future. All adventurers know that prophecy is extremely dangerous, even functionally a type of curse. Make sure that your player knows that if their characters decide to have a prophecy told, they will probably die. 

The Distaff and the Spinning Wheel

If Galen agrees to tell your prophecy, it will involve her weaving you a tapestry. This will take her two months, and she will ask for 800s for the service. She will also shave your head, and take some blood, to weave and dye into the finished object. 

Your PC can ask a single question of Galen when she begins her work, of the type you would ask an oracle. Will I find love? Should I invade Carthage now, or wait until Spring? Will I find a great treasure? etc. 

Once the tapestry is finished, Galen will interpret it. She will usually answer your question in a positive or affirming way - you will find love, a great treasure, you should invade Carthage, etc. This is not certain - sometimes Galen will be unable to see anything, in which case she will apologise and refund your money. 

If she does give you a positive response, she will also give you a warning, also of the type an oracle would give: beware water, beware fire, beware dogs, beware your deadbeat sons, etc. 

The DM will then do everything in their (substantial! Godlike!) power to make both of these things come true. The usual assumptions of the game can be bent and subverted to enable both. The DM will be cheating to give you something that you want, and then cheating to try to kill your character. 

All adventurers know not to fuck with oracles.