Excerpts From Nonexistent Books

Module P1: GOBLIN MIDWIFERY
The goblin matriarch Blatsuna lays dying from a difficult pregnancy, with the fate of her only heir on the line due to a breech presentation and a shortage of qualified goblin midwives. Leaderless, the goblin hordes of the Green Hills have begun to rampage out of control as Blatsuna’s lieutenants jockey for power in the event of her untimely death!

It is your job, as a group of clerics, healers, doctors, and magical anthropologists, to infiltrate the massive goblin complex of Snoothollow to give Blatsuna the aid she needs in delivering her baby. But it won’t be easy – in addition to hundreds of well-armed goblin troops and high-ranking lieutenants out for blood, you must contend with hundreds of years of goblin tradition, unsanitary conditions, and of course the mob of villagers ready to take up arms and purge the greenskins from their ancestral lands!

This P&P™ Adventure Module™ is suitable for player from level 1-4, and can be scaled for groups from 3-6. As with all P&P products, the only damage tables included are for use on YOU! Can you come to a pacifist solution to the crisis? We’d like to think so!

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!

The Amulet holds within it a terrible power, but none now living know what that power is. For it has the ability to remove itself from the memory of those who have held it and used it, and in this way the nature of its power has remained elusive to scholars.

One thing that is clear from the records is that the Amulet has a malign will of its own, much like the soulbound cogs of the Second Age, though whether this is an imprisoned or artificial will is unknown. The Codex Rexdet claims that the Amulet punishes those who have offended it by refusing to partake in its usual trick before vanishing: the removal of their memories of having owned it and used its terrible yet mysterious power.

The Codex says that those left in such a state have been driven quickly to madness and the taking of their own lives by the weight of their deeds. It takes as its source a rare survivor of such, raving for hours in an asylum and writing on the walls in her own blood.

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!

“From the ashes I arose, in the great mounds where they were heaped.” Its voice was like a deep bellows, whispers of fire raked over cherry-red coals, and each syllable breathed forth a pinch of acrid smoke and let a little of the burning light within escape.

“I’ve heard it said that the best smiths put themselves into their work,” said Ona. “I suppose that, with enough ash and time, the shards of great smiths past must feel the need to create.”

Cinderforge nodded. “The urge is overwhelming,” it said, “though the materials run low and the supply of fuel ebbs. I have kept this furnace stoked for an age, making trinkets and weapons and whatever else is asked for with a genuine need. But I cannot wander far before the fire begins to fail, and I am diminished form what I once was. I fear that another blade such as Heartseeker is not within me to craft.”

“Why not?” Ona said. She watched the sparks rise from each hammer blow as Cinderforge worked away at the metal. “You’re as strong a smith as I’ve ever seen.”

“There was a time when four arms worked these forges, manning the bellows as well as the hammer and tongs,” said Cinderforge. “To keep the fire, I have had to cast off pieces of myself. In a year, perhaps less, they shall gutter out unless I give up the last part of myself. Even if you could bring me Heartseeker itself, I could not copy it as I am now.”

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!

Pleasantwater Universal Center
his mixed-use building was designed for free by local architect Eva Chando, who believed that it was the exact center of the universe and that its unique selenium frame would help attract positive energy to bring about a new golden age. So far, a local intramural volleyball league district championship is all the fruit her efforts have borne.

Low Point Coffee
Run by self-described herbalist and “java wizard” Cecil Barrington, Low Point is a favorite local watering hole for the bean beatnik and mud mafioso in all of us.

The Four Sneezins
The realization of a long-held dream of founder and longtime resident Ms. Potts, The Four Sneezins is a restaurant dedicated to the haute couture of that most humble of spices, pepper. Adventurous eaters come from out of town to sample the spicy wares and buy a souvenir hanky.

Gree’s E-Z Spoon
Founded by Cecil “Cee” Gree and run by his son Sergei “Ser” Gree, the E-Z Spoon offers local favorites at local favorite prices. Be sure to try their famous llama burgers, ethically sourced and ranched.

St. James Sanitorium
Named after the lesser-known St. James of Cuzco, this sanitarium continues his good work with the poor and the ill. It still holds to his motto “be soft as alpaca unto the unfortunate.”

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!

The first time, I lost about a minute. My alarm went off before I was expecting and scared me nearly to death. I brushed it off. I mean, I barely even knew what time was before I got a cell phone.

I brushed off the next few just as easily. What’s losing track of a few minutes here or there? I figured I was just being tired, or forgetful. Especially in college, there are some frat boys that lose track of more time than that every weekend.

But then I started missing classes, looking up and noticing that three hours had gone by. Phone calls from worried people were starting to come in, and I lost my job at Stubb’s Coffee.

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!

the ocean
billows amid quilted squares
deep feathers to their base
cotton brine soft from use
offering
waves of
flux
tide
current

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!

“My cleric casts a spell,” said Dr. Robert B. Strasser. “On Angela.”

“Okay,” Myassa said. “But you can’t see her. You need to roll perception to see if you can.”

“I roll a nineteen.”

“You spot the fallen form of your rogue!” Myassa said. “What spell do you cast?”

“I cast Cause Moderate Wounds.”

“Wait, what?” Angela cried. “Dr. Strasser!”

“On your own rogue? Brutal!” Myassa rolled out the attack. “Thirteen hit points of damage! She’s almost dead.”

“The gibberlings are attracted by the smell of blood, no?” said Strasser.

“You’re right,” said Myassa. “They swarm toward her prostrate form!”

“DR. STRASSER!”

“And what of the traps?” said Strasser

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!

In 1897, the McKennitt family climbed Mt. Hobs for a day of picnicking, taking with them a heavy quilt to serve as a picnic blanket. The father, Sean McKennitt, billowed out the quilt in preparation for laying it flat. Instead, the quilt settled over something in midair–something man-sized yet invisible. Thinking he had snagged a hidden branch, McKennit removed the quilt and tried again, this time clearly noting that nothing occupied the space. Again, the quilt draped itself over something unseen.

When it began to move, the McKennitt family fled in a panic.

After hearing his wild stories in the valley, a group of curious locals, including Sean McKennitt himself, located the picnic site but were unable to find the quilt. Though the site’s disarray and the unfinished, still-packed picnic basket lent some credence to his claim, the prevailing opinion was that McKennitt had simply been seeing things and mistaken a gust of wind for some kind of phantom.

But over the years that followed, the McKennitt quilt was seen all over Mt. Hobs, often from a distance but nearly always apparently draped over something unseen. The quilt became bleached, and patchy, but it never fell apart. And whatever sort of thing Sean McKennitt had stumbled upon that day, it never deigned to remove the blanket that made it visible to a fearful world.

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!

Asiya was lounging in shorts, while her sister Mariam wore jeans, a shapeless sweatshirt, and a hijab. They talked back and forth in clipped tones, too fast for Ellison to understand, before turning to their computers.

“…well?” he said after a moment.

“Well,” said Asiya, without looking up as her fingers flew. “Do you wanna guess why we’ve got the reputation we do?”

Ellison shrugged. “Your father wanted boys, I guess,” he smirked.

“Wrong,” said Mariam, her voice and keyboard tapping all but indistinguishable from her twin. “He always said he hoped for daughters because women are smarter than men, and he was a mathematics chair at Princebridge so he knew his 0s from his 1s.”

“Well, you see, I was just jok-”

“So we’ve had a lot of experience in a nurturing environment, okay?” Asiya continued. “And you know that they say about two heads being better than one; sissy and I are on the same wavelength.”

“Even though I don’t like how you wear your hair,” Mariam said.

“And how I don’t like how you wear your scarf,” Asiya replied.

“And how your girlfriends are all bimbos,” Mariam shot back.

“Let’s not forget your ex-husband the janitor,” said Asiya.

“You don’t believe in anything you can’t see.”

“And you’re convinced gods and fairies are moving the ones for you instead of inconvenienced electrons.”

Ellison was just about to intervene in the squabble when both ladies slapped their keyboards and looked up. “Done!” they said in unison.

“And? Well?” Ellison said eagerly.

“Rijndael cipher with a 256-bit key,” Mariam said.

“Unbreakable without brute force attacks.” her twin added.

“Well, brute-force it then,” said Ellison. “I’ll wait.

“Do you have six weeks to a year to get into this?” said Asiya.

“I have about two days.”

“Then we’ve got good news and bad news,” Mariam said. “The bad news is that a 256-bit AES password can’t be brute-forced in that time unless we get really, really lucky. The good news is that doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah,” Asiya said. “Whoever bought this encryption did an awful job of implementing it. It’s like putting a thumbprint lock on a wooden door. The password is just a gate to access plaintext on a hidden partition of the drive.”

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!

Do you know how succubi are formed?
They need chaos.
Chaos can’t grow a succubus alone;
They need evil.
Evil can’t grow succubi
here’s the reason why;
Blood War rages on the planes
and demons die.
Do you know how succubi are formed?
They need violence and distress,
enemies and darkness
and most of all they need lust!

With apologies to John Barry, Hal David, and Nina Van Pallandt.

• Like what you see? Purchase a print or ebook version!