Line-Ways Hexflower 1
Introduction
I'm working on the first few big hexflowers for my next project and, in the interest of keeping an active blog, I figured I'd post the first draft one I wrote here. It'll eventually get polished and bundled up with the rest of the setting, I think, so if you're intrigued by this keep an eye out for that.
In terms of craft, I hand wrote most of the initial outline for this and then revised/edited what I had as I digitized it. I like the process, but it's more time-intensive than I expected. I like what came out of it though, especially for a first pass.
The Line-ways
A Metro that was, in its own time, the greatest achievement of flux-architects and quantum-engineers entangled in the state of public transit. It's gone now. In its place are the Line-Ways. Getting there is easy; I've written -- truly, am still in the process of writing -- ten hexflowers to drop into your worlds with entrances to the Line-Ways and their corresponding cities. Some are more explicitly post-apocalyptic than others; find one that works for your setting.
The Capitol Hexflower
Encounter rolls happen once every watch (every four hours) and occur on a 1-in-6 chance.
The Capitol should be placed in a wasteland, or the ruins of a city. It is not meant to be well-traveled.
| 1d6 | Encounters in the Capitol |
|---|---|
| 1 | 2 Bankers (2HD, Chain + Shield, telescopic stun batons), on their way to collect a debt long overdue. |
| 2 | 1d6 Redblue Bots (as Bear, integrated pistols), proclaiming glory to the empire underneath their flashing redblue lights. |
| 3 | 4d6 Asphalt Birds (As Roc, half HD) hunting. |
| 4-6 | Irradiated wind screams between the gaps of every nucleus in the Hex. Living things with no protection melt into a puddle of misfolded proteins and cancer over the course of days. |
Hex 7
Asphalt arteries clogged with hunks of rusted steel. They writhe and twist through the air, like the mating ball of a well-endowed ball python. The roads are hard to traverse, but leap over most of the hostile geography of the ruins below.
| 1d6 | Finds among the Wreckage |
|---|---|
| 1 | A heretical amount of pocket lint, trapped underneath rusted bars. Small mites dance and wiggle in geometric patterns all over the surface, bearing the thoughts of a slain god. If decoded, it laments its prison in the rafters of Hell (see Hell). |
| 2 | A remote with a single red button. Pressing the button causes an earthquake (the bomb in The Facility explodes, see LW Hex XX). |
| 3 | An umbrella shaped like a squid. The handle is inky black. |
| 4 | A magnesium fire starter. |
| 5 | A pair of gold bars stamped with the logo of The Bank in Hex 4. stuffed within a bag full of green bills. |
| 6 | A teddy bear, miraculously untouched in the wreckage. It does not age or tear or wear. A friendship bracelet is tied around its neck and reads: "Mona's best friend." |
Hex 6
Crumbling concrete half-boxes line streets that twist and turn. Somehow, a 6-11 still remains open here, undamaged by calamity. A hotdog roller creaks noisy accompaniment to house music played over the PA system. They (meaning the self-service kiosks) accept green bills and have everything you'd expect in a convenience store.
Hex 5
A giant statue, now battered and broken, overlooks a destitute roundabout. The statue's powerful, imposing gaze transcends time and culture. There is nothing else here.
Hex 4
A bank with an elaborate (but moth-eaten) interior. Overseen by the Bankers, Faceless opal people wearing black suits that jingle with every step. Each one is but a digit on the hand of Old Money, a churning mass of gold and green bills hidden from the light of day via the bank vault. It wants nothing more than to sit quietly and collect interest and old debts.
Paradoxically, the poorer any bank visitors are when they first enter the bank, the more likely the Bankers are to try and cajole them into taking a loan. The Bankers offer many goods and services, all at usurious rates. They will always try to force you into a payment plan, even if you have the money to pay for something outright. The terms should be confusing and hard to follow, or even outright obscured from the players until after they sign a contract or make a deal. Here is a small (non-exhaustive) sample of their work:
| Good/Service | Cost |
|---|---|
| Murder | 5,000 gp, 5% interest compounded biweekly |
| Theft | 2,500 gp, 7% interest compounded each time the victim misses the object stolen |
| Answers | 1,000gp per (entirely truthful) answer, 10% interest compounded each question the player asks the referee during the session. |
| Items | 500gp, 100% interest compounded each time the item is used. |
Calculating Interest & Repossession
This is boring and arguably the worst part of this faction. Feel free to take it out. If you don't want to, here's how to calculate the interest.
When we say "compounded" all we mean is that we add the given percentage of the current debt to itself. Say we have a 100gp debt and a 7% interest rate. When that interest compounds, you'd add 7gp to the total 107gp. When it compounds again, add 7% of the 107gp amount to itself. This continues until the debt is paid off in full.
Normally, I hand-wave the fractional coins when dividing treasure. Here, I lean into the ridiculousness. Yes, you do need to collect 4/5ths of a gold piece and give to them. No, they don't make change. Figure it out.
If a party fails to pay their debt (the goal of every account the Bankers take on) they begin to try and repossess. Each time the debt compounds after the terms of the loan have been violated, two Bankers begin to stalk the party. They often wait until they have a numerical advantage before descending. They use ambush tactics and are content with slowly picking off weak members of the party in chaotic situations. Their wide range of financing options means that almost every faction big enough owes them a favor. They will not stop until their debt has been repaid with interest.
The only permanent escape from the debt collection is the Line-Ways.
Hex 3
An asphalt desert, deathly hot in this late age. Hordes of Asphalt Birds strip the flesh from unwary travelers.
Hex 2
Dry lakes surround an ancient plaza, overgrown with grasses and wildlife. The seat of a powerful empire, now ruined, watches over the wreckage of its destruction.
Hex 1
The entrance.
A concrete maw with honeycomb teeth and broken escalator tongues juts from the rubble here. A long set of stairs is the only way down.
The stairway debouches into a lobby. Long benches span the room, and ancient vending machines bear the heraldry of long-dead kings of industry. Stuffed in the basket of one of them is a brick of Cocaine 2: Twice as high, half as bad for your nose!
Beortle, the Toll-Box Mephit, sits on a creaky stool and practices the delicate art of fidgeting with his tattered newsboy cap. The union still makes him work here despite the end of the world ("Contract has you here for fourty more fourty days and fourty nights, boss. Sorry."), so he's pretty bored. Doesn't mind if you hop the turnstiles, but will give you some information about the Line-Ways if you observe proper metro etiquette.
Bathrooms. A sign on the wall reads: "Bring back 5' squares!" The sign is covered in crude grafitti.
A collapsed stairway.
A stairway to Hell.
A bell sounds when descending the stairs, somewhere between the back of the eyes and the front of the brain, and anyone on the stairs passes out.
They wake up in Hell.
Hell
Anyone who passed out on the stairs wakes up on an identical staircase that opens into the main city proper. There is no way out.
Hell hosts a population of 423 stuffed into a large cavern. The station is capped with rusted catwalks and hanging red lights; the whole place is bathed in a sickly red. A demon, impaled by the catwalks an age ago, is harnessed for power up here, thick blood sizzling loudly and steaming vapors rolling off its body make the entire place uncomfortably humid. Thick tubes direct the flow of the demon's bodily fluids across the station, for use in food and central heating.
Fun Fact: At least a little of all food and drink in Hell comes from the demon. As a result, every meal is equal parts chalky, bitter, and spicy, like eating coffee grounds garnished with pepper dust and ash.
Hell's Happenings
The Redder Light district just opened; lots of people walk the streets bowlegged, chafing from the blisters of a particularly virulent STI. They're all in a good mood, though.
The station is bustling with activity as a party of researchers from Babel looking for ancient buildings near the station spend gratuitous amounts of money on food, drink, and industrial mining supplies. They are looking for the Apocalypse Gate (See Hex XX), which is supposed to be somewhere in Hell's Caldera.
The Priests of Wayfinder Bruno are holding a festival this week, parading through the streets and empty terminals of the station controlling a giant puppet of the Wayfinder. Penitents follow behind and make "choo-choo!" noises at the top of their lungs.
Hell's People
A small smattering of people in Hell. There are certainly more, but these are the important ones.
Ar Gular, a stocky man with a beard to his waist, oversees the station. He is harsh, as if the red lights have shortened his temper over the years.
Niamh Bee, an eloquent young woman who is goading the underserved parts of the station to revolution. Militant communist, but will have no idea what to do if her revolution succeeds.
Archinal, an archivist from Babel, is ruddy-faced and in constant awe at the bustling city-station of Hell. He's here to study the demon, but his efforts thus far are unsuccessful.
Rechile, a Roachwalker1. Naive when it comes to the human realms.
Hell's Places
Mephisto's Saloon sells fire brandy, the only hard stuff in the Line-Ways.
Madame Mysteria's Fortune Forum peddles esoteric wards, charms, bells and whistles of varying levels of effectiveness.
The Demon's Maw is a fine arts gallery held in a cavity carved into the flesh of the demon. Any art displayed must be waterproof or risk destruction from the fluids that coat the room. A single janitor named Novell Tee is overworked, underpaid, and absolutely enthralled with the high art business.
Ascended humanoid cockroaches. They have four apposable appendages and a thick carapace. Roachwalker Women and Children can fly.↩