TEN DOWN

Underworld Places for Downcrawl

or any Subterranean Campaign

Aaron A. Reed

Game design, writing, art, and layout by Aaron A. Reed (aaronareed.net). All art
modified from images in the public domain. Typeset in Rosarivo and Packard
Antique.

First Edition, 2021

Downcrawl Game and Handouts: downcrawl.textories.com

This work is copyright 2021 by Aaron A. Reed with all rights reserved. Permission
is granted to reproduce or share portions within a player group, or make derivative
works or player aids, provided the original author is credited.
Table of Contents
Introduction 3 Tables
Ten Volumes Random Foods in the Down . . . . 11
Oozeways Fungal Side Effects . . . 17
The Buried Archive . . . . . . . . . 4
Time Dilations . . . . . . . . . . . 19
Catalyst . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
Path Prices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
The Ebon Fantastic . . . . . . . . . 8
Path Hazards . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
Perseling Country . . . . . . . . . 10
Bleakport . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Grand Lithic Station . . . . . . . . 14
The Oozeways . . . . . . . . . . . 16
The Eternity Stair . . . . . . . . . . 18
Thalassia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 20
Iris and Umbra . . . . . . . . . . . 22

Paths 25
 Introduction
This book contains ten new Volumes for
use in your Downcrawl campaign or any
other adventure in underground spaces.
Downcrawl is a system-neutral ruleset for
taking your fantasy roleplaying campaign
into an endless underworld where the
sun and sky are only legends, and unusual
Folk of all kinds explore a realm of caverns
and tunnels that stretches forever in all
directions: the Deep, Deep Down. Find out
more at downcrawl.textories.com.
Downcrawl includes a generator for
creating Volumes, which are major points
of interest in the Down: towns, adventure
sites, and interesting destinations. The
volumes in Ten Down were created using
the generator from the book. The block
at the top of each listing shows the
random rolls that were used to inspire
it. Each Volume lists a Touchstone—a
representative place within it—and a set of
story seeds: interesting things that might
happen here. GMs can feel free to add
these volumes to their Guidebook, ready
to deploy in response to a Map Move, or
just steal bits and pieces for their own
purposes, as they are wont to do.
You can use this book without Downcrawl,
which is designed to be broadly
compatible with most fantasy roleplaying
games. The format focuses more on
stories than stats, so feel free to treat these
destinations as setting inspiration and
ignore any system-specific details.
3
Some of the volumes listed here have
sidebars with special rules. GMs can
choose whether or not to make use of
these, but they add a bit of variety and
freshness to exploration, particularly if you
are using the Downcrawl rules.
In addition to the ten new Volumes, this
book contains a major new Downcrawl
mechanic: Paths. Normally connections
between volumes are ephemeral, but a
Path is a more permanent and stable
route which is easier and less dangerous
to travel. Players can undertake a project
to forge new paths with special rules for
doing so.
I hope you enjoy these new destinations in
the Down. Here’s a quick index if you need
to grab one quickly:
Scary volumes: Bleakport, The Buried
Archive, The Eternity Stair, The Oozeways
Restful volumes: Perseling Country,
Catalyst, The Ebon Fantastic
Volumes with lots of NPCs: Catalyst,
Iris & Umbra, The Ebon Fantastic, Grand
Lithic Station
Weirdest volumes: Thalassia, The Ebon
Fantastic, The Eternity Stair
Volumes with lots of monsters: The
Oozeways, Thalassia, The Buried Archive,
Bleakport
The Buried Archive
A haunted library under sand; labyrinthine passages
filled with dangers and ancient knowledge.

Themes: Library, Ruled by Undead

Terrain: Sand Dunes, Artificial Maze
Abundant: Knowledge, Monsters
Scarce: People, Food
Remoteness: Secret

As the Dust River windsits long-
dried course through the softer rock of
the Down, it opens into an immense
cavern filled with dunes. Gusts of hot and
odorless air breathe in and out of the vast
open space through the many cracks in its
walls, shifting sands the color of yellowing
paper across its floor. Sometimes the
sands reveal stone steps leading down to
obsidian doors. Through them is a library
that few have found and fewer still have
lived to tell about.
It runs for miles through gently curving
tunnels in the rock beneath the sands, and
goes by many names—the Paper Maze, the
Inhumary, the Logomortis. Some say its
passages spell the shape of an enormous
circle or mandala, or even a single
hideously complex rune, but who can say?
It’s invisible from above, and impossible
within to move in the same direction for
long. But there’s no doubt that the books
inside are incredibly ancient: records
of cultures and empires long dead. The
vast majority are ruined, but countless
thousands might still be read, if only
one could find them, and would wish to.
Some of the books hold secrets better left
forgotten; some, it is said, hold the very
souls of long-dead writers who inscribed
themselves within their pages. Most are
just books, of course.
Then there are the librarians.
Who knows what they once were, but
now they roam the halls as shambling
mummies wrapped in yellowed pages, still
dense with ancient words. They do not
care for those who disturb the books, or
get in their way, or speak above a whisper.
They do not care for the fact that you are
alive and still made of flesh, and wish very
much to remove it from you. The archive
is so vast one might spend a week in its
tunnels without meeting a librarian. If one
does, one is strongly advised to run.

4
 Ten Volumes > The Buried Archive
Touchstone
Scribbler’s Rock, a finger of ancient
blue-black stone: one of the few constant
surface landmarks rising from the dunes.
Here marks as good a place as any to
begin your search for an entrance. Tents
of seekers and scholars are sometimes
pitched around it, but few venture outside
to wander between them: this is not a
place for cheery campfires or song.
Special rule
To find a particular title or piece of
information within the Archive, you’ll need
to bring a clue to its location, the finding
of which might itself be a whole adventure.
Even with a clue, locating the information
you seek requires a Critical Success on an
unmodified roll for the group searching,
which represents a full day’s hunt. Multiple
groups may roll on the same day, but they
must split up to do so effectively, meaning
they’ll face any dangers encountered alone.
On a Critical Failure, a group attracts the
attention of a librarian.
After each roll you may travel deeper into
the Archive for the following day’s search,
if you so choose. Each level of depth adds
an additional die (or equivalent bonus) to
your search roll. In a d20 game at depth
3, you would roll 3d20 for your search: a
Critical Success or Critical Failure on any
die would count as a result.
Seeds
Ƿ In a gallery of obsidian tablets etched
with sickle-shaped runes, a mechanical
man with a jaunty bronze hat and
mustache stands wound-down and
motionless; a dusty skeleton clutches its
ankle.
5
Ƿ With a sickening silky rumble, the
ceiling gives way and a flood of sand
starts pouring in.
Ƿ A twitchy scholar named Jesh
claims to know a valuable secret about the
librarians, and will only tell it to you if you
show them the way out.
Ƿ A pack of jackals with glowing red
eyes begins stalking the party. There’s
something wrong with the way they move.
Ƿ A cramped wrought-iron staircase
spirals down into darkness. Taking it will
add 3 depth.
More Places
a semicircular amphitheater with
a podium at the bottom; a seven-way
intersection of shelf-lined hallways; a
hall of coffins with sleeping librarians; a
gallery of shelves on counterweights that
can be moved by cranking great wheels;
a wide pit of unknown depth filled with
mouldering tomes; a reading room
guarded by onyx gargoyles
Archive Types
stacks of immense broad leaves, dried to
a reddish-brown and bound with woven
grass; cylinders etched with circles of
tiny repeating patterns; fingernail-thin
sheaves of translucent stone covered
in colored inks; leather-bound tomes
with spines on both sides, no clear way
to open them; rounded shields of bark
with geometric patterns burned onto
them; thin sheets of metal foil with
intricate perforations, bound in brass; rods
of jade wrapped in coils of semaphored
thread; stacks of thin black squares with
round holes in the middle and no obvious
markings; ribbon-wrapped scrolls in
precarious piles; animal skins coated in
dense scrawls of ink or blood; and books,
books, books, books, books.
Catalyst
A high-pressure city of noble ideals and abundant
energy, squeezed into a jumble of chasms and
fractures.
Themes: Monumental Project, Utopia
Terrain: Seismically Unstable, Winding Badlands
Abundant: Heat, Water
Scarce: Open space, Religion, Defenses
Remoteness: Well-Known
The massive region known as
the Sunderis a fractured maze of
huge jagged cracks and shattered rents,
an immense maze rendered in eons by
pressure and steam. At the heart of the
Sunder is the city of Catalyst, whose
inhabitants have learned to harness and
channel that immense geothermal power
for the benefit of all. Here they have built
a would-be utopia: an egalitarian city-state
where immense steam-powered machines
perform most menial labor, and Folk of all
sorts are welcome.
There are no vast public squares or high
straight avenues in Catalyst. The city
squeezes into the ragged nooks and
crannies of the Sunder’s natural geography,
following lines of ancient ruptures
wherever they zig and zag. Picture a
capitol’s street map crumbled up in a ball,
alleys and avenues curving up, around, and
between one another in knots of endless
complexity. No hills or high towers let
6
one see the whole city, and visitors often
become as lost and overwhelmed as an
aphid in an ant nest. Shops, factories,
fungus farms, bazaars, dormitories,
theatres, schools, zoos, and houses press in
on every side along streets that twist and
double back like lightning bolts, up stairs
and down narrow chutes and round sharp
corners. But to the citizens, it’s as sensible
an arrangement as any home, and natives
step whistling between mighty pistons and
threshers and past vents of superheated
steam, always eager to give directions to
a baffled stranger or engage in earnest
discussion about their revolutionary way
of life.
And yet Catalyst is a city in constant
crisis. Endless debates about the Perfect
Society lead to endless reforms, protests,
and referendums: a government by the
people becomes perpetually entangled
in the people’s problems. The cracks of
the Sunder stretching away on all sides
 Ten Volumes > Catalyst
provide a million weak points where
enemies might sneak in. Refugees
from less wealthy regions threaten to
overwhelm the already crowded streets.
The dominance of science and industry
leads to prejudice against folk with more
mystical or superstitious bents. And
frequent earthquakes and scalding steam-
winds necessitate constant vigilance and
continuous rebuilding.
But the residents believe with all their
heart that Catalyst is a city worth saving.
Most would fight to the death to keep its
engines rumbling and its dream alive.
Touchstone
Piston Alley, a crooked, slanting street in
the heart of the turbine district, filled with
huge moving wheels and rods and shops
offering every kind of service imaginable.
There’s a constant bustle of haggling
merchants and customers, unionized
workers heading to and from important
jobs, and traffic from pedestrians, steam-
powered streetcars, and ibex-pulled carts.
One might find quieter markets, but few
more interesting.
Seeds
Ƿ In Chimney Heights, a refugee
neighborhood where rickety shacks are
stacked one atop the other, an old friend
guards a dangerous secret.
Ƿ Steam-sipping beetles, each the size
of a horse, keep creeping up from the
narrow cracks below the city to feed at its
vents, which would be fine except for their
habit of destroying any buildings or people
between them and their steam.
Ƿ After a recent earthquake, two city
districts are now connected only by
Mr. Stibble’s Crystal Elevator, a for-
profit venture run by a profiteering old
busybody. Prices and tensions are rising.
7
Ƿ Prominent street artist Nimmondo,
known for choreographing flows of steam
and dyes to produce mesmerizing murals,
has vanished.
Ƿ At the Leaning Sanitarium, a public
hospital, an unexpected malaise spreads
through more and more patients, as if
they’ve lost all zest for life: a six-legged
nurse desperately seeks your help.
More Places
The Gardens Asunder
• twisted plants from across the Down
Morvolio’s Emporium of Whimsies &
Wonders
• access to the private collection available only
by appointment
The Bridges
• district of graceful arched pathways and
government offices
The Geomancer Academy
• very prestigious
More People
Krim Krikkson of the Guild of
Greasemakers
• third generation
Dr. Charlotte Applemoss
• her methods are somewhat unorthodox
Dorno
• unrepentant young practical joker
Sophronia Stonewrack, Speaker for the
People
• young, canny reformist politician
Special Rule: Catalyst is always bustling
with people. If anyone is attempting to
track or follow the party, they have better
odds here. Raise the Danger when passing
through.
The Ebon Fantastic
A traveling festival of color and magic, celebrating
the strange second life of a curious people.

Themes: Melting Pot, Famous for Undead

Terrain: varies
Abundant: Drugs, Magic, Useful Animals, Community, Art/Culture
Scarce: Privacy, Leaders
Remoteness: Sheltered

The Catanae are a curious Folk: and stranger stories abound on every
a people wiped out long ago but brought corner, and few who visit ever forget their
back by a whimsical god as skeleton time there.
wanderers. They paint their bones fantastic
The Ebon Fantastic is always in motion,
colors and travel the Down sharing music
putting down roots only briefly before
and stories, enjoying an unexpected
moving on again in huge carts pulled by
epilogue to life. But there are far more
purple worms or laughing golems. Half its
Catanae spirits than animated bones, so
company are Catanae: the others are drawn
every ten years each wanderer must return
from Folk of every other kind imaginable,
to give their spirit back to the Eversoul.
joining for a season, an adolescence, or
They do this at the wandering carnival
a lifetime. They swap tales of the places
known as the Ebon Fantastic.
they’ve seen and hard lessons learned, and
Here is a joyous festival of life intertwined share in the bittersweet savor when the
with death, light with darkness, laughter time comes to move on, as sooner or later
with solemnity and sadness, hosted by it always must.
the Catanae but open to all. Bonfires burn
Finding the Fantastic can be like chasing
brightly, voices rise in song, strange meats
a legendary whale, gathering hints of its
sizzle on open coals, magical confectioners
passing in a footprint of smudged confetti,
pull colorful sweets from the air, fleshy
a village of cheerfully hung-over revelers.
and clattering feet dance together over
But it’s never too hard to find, for those
sawdust-strewn paths between gaudy
who want to find it. The hard part, they
sideshows and more somber tents.
say, is leaving again, especially without
Fortunes are told at the Ebon Fantastic,
leaving a piece of your heart behind.
lovers joined and parted; secrets are shared
and lives are changed. Strange creatures
8
 Ten Volumes > The Ebon Fantastic

Touchstone into your hands, and begs you to promise

to deliver it to a Volume the players have
The Eversoul, the great whirling mass not yet been to.
of light (purple, orange and green) where
Ƿ A procession of nimble Catanae
thousands of sleeping Catanae souls swirl:
dancers, accompanied by hauntingly spare
a tornado of fireflies, achingly beautiful.
harmonies on mushwood flutes; the bustle
Always found in the largest tent at the
slows to a halt as all turn to see.
heart of the Ebon Fantastic. Returning
Catanae walk their bones into the light;
the bones walk out again infused with a More People
different soul. The ritual is solemn and for
Catanae only: walking into that maelstrom Denner
without a soul to spare is not advised. • ex-seminarian
• follows the Fantastic wherever it goes

Special Rules Chilpo and Lirika

• fresh-reborn Catanae eager to see the world
Each time you Arrive at the Ebon
Sorbyl
Fantastic, roll on the Table of Terrains
• strongman with devil horns and a lot of fur
in the Downcrawl book to learn the
• knows everyone
environment where it’s currently set up.
Lursta
• pickpocket in need of a partner
Seeds Chemish
Ƿ Enchatara, a Catanae whose bones are • Catanae bard with a song for any occasion,
painted a million shades of green, trades even inappropriate ones
rare herbs, poultices, and fungi from a Klorlo
checkered tent. • slow-talking mushroom-man ticker-taker
Ƿ An anxious pair of Catanae want your
help tracking down the stolen Book of
More Places
Names, in particular because they haven’t
been assigned any yet. The Concourse of Color
Ƿ The Tent of Whispers is only open • where flesh or bones are painted
to those who have joined the Fantastic on
Asteri’s
at least one full jaunt, from strikedown to
• classy restaurant in a silky-white tent
setup. Those who step inside hear secrets
known nowhere else. the Well of Laughter
Ƿ You suspect that Faya, a blue-skinned • a different giggle for each kind of currency
boy in well-tailored silks, might be running thrown in
away from the blue-skinned royals and Memoria
their retinue of guards roughly searching • leave behind your whispered regrets in a
the crowd. darkened maze of hanging black silk
Ƿ A Catanae named Kiticha must return
the Public Gallery
to the Eversoul tonight, but has unfinished
• art of all kinds (good, bad, confounding,
business: she presses a locket with a
dangerous) from around the Down
picture of twin children and a sealed letter

9
Perseling Country
Fuzz farmers live peaceful lives in caverns of winding
rivers and rustic villages.

Themes: Scattered Holdfasts, Mecca (for Fuzz)

Terrain: River System, Suspended over Dropoff
Abundant: Fuzz, Privacy, Water, Community
Scarce: Monsters, Magic
Remoteness: Well-Known

In the miles before the River Tourmal neighborly gift is often enough to get on
drops into the Endless Chasm, it divides the good side of even the crustiest farmer.
into countless estuaries that meander
Yet Perseling Country also has its more
through flat-bottomed canyons and wide
secretive side. Over the years an odd
open caverns of rich, loamy clay. Here in
assortment of retirees, recluses, and those
the misty air, Fuzz grows in enormous
who simply wish not to be disturbed
tufts and fans pulsing with a gentle
for reasons of their own have taken up
purple light, and scattered villages and
residence here. Hidden away in once-
homesteads farm it, weave it, dry it, anneal
grand homes now buried under tufts of
it, and send it upriver in long slim barges
overgrown Fuzz, or dilapidated wizard’s
in sundry processed forms.
towers on river islands, or in unassuming
The folk here (of all varieties) are known garrets above tailor’s shops, these isolates
as Perselings, named for the deep purple each have their own reasons for hiding
coloring that stains their fingers and even, themselves away. Some left mighty
in old-timers, their eyes. The farmers reputations behind. Some might not take
and craftsfolk here live a largely simple kindly to the world catching up with them.
life, their borders protected on one side
by the Falls where the water plunges
into void, and on the other by deep river Touchstone
canyons. A few devoted mushroomers,
Violacea, a bright village of mushroom-
mycologists, professional foragers and
homes at a crossroads of footpaths;
amateur Fuzz Freaks make occasional or
known for the light airy clothes its
frequent pilgrimages to Perseling Country,
weavers, fullers, and tailors make from a
but outsiders are otherwise rare, and not
particularly legendary patch of Fuzz. The
always trusted: though a good song or a
10
 Ten Volumes > Perseling Country

Stronger Strand is a homey public house Turl Petrichor

with a warm hearth, and all the land’s
• gruff bargeman
gossip and news runs through the nightly • has a secret
crowd at the bar.
Cousin Murge
• runs a druggist speakeasy behind a barn
The Fuzz is a frilly mold common in the
Down, providing light, food, and telepathic Aya of the Edenwood
language assistance when brewed in tea. • doe-eyed exile with a sad story

the Parlance Twins

• preteen Fuzz-fueled linguists extraordinaire
Seeds
Ƿ Captain Treadlightly, member More places
of the volunteer Guard Patrol, tips his
ridiculous hat and informs you, with polite Lummukkin
embarrassment, he must search your bags • tiny village
Ƿ A new distillery sells a potent Standing
Fuzzwine called Gloam; those who • even tinier village
drink it have astonishingly vivid waking
dreams. Are they dreams, though? Old Greggor’s Farm
Ƿ The Druid of Ettinhead Grove • out in the boonies
hasn’t been seen for ten years, and now the the Rhodopsin Marshes
Grove is dying; nearby farmers have raised • strange vegetable life
a collection to investigate
the Edgemarket
Ƿ The Feast of Fullglow, when the
• huge nets over the Falls catch strange goods
three local cycles of Fuzzlight all peak
falling from above or on updrafts from below
at once, is almost here; but something’s
sickened the crops and Marm Ellera isn’t Clearcreek Lane
sure they’ll be enough food to go round • winding cobblestones
Ƿ A thieving crittikin steals a precious • grand old estates
trinket from a party member, skittering
away into a dense patch of Fuzz and Table of random foods in the Down
shrieking with glee » What’s on the menu?
Ƿ The most charismatic party member fungberry pie cliffsnail eggs
recognizes the jolly Mayor of Violacea, ettinhead stew roast pupfish
who once led a very different life spongebread crayfish fricassée
cricket kabob sweetmoss surprise
More people purple seedcake liverwort crumble
roast troglobite wormbelly cutlets
Thistle baked riverfish crunchy puffballs
• gangly farmhand filet of salamander sugared morels
• not too bright feather moss soup stalkwood fruit
chasm cheese scorpion sausage
the Duchess sundersquirrel pie sticky faezrice
• old money mushrib noodles crunchy rivernuts
• in the stalkwood business
11
Bleakport
A ruined lighthouse stands guard over an evil lake,
no longer keeping the darkness at bay.
Themes: In Decline, Crusaders
Terrain: Underground Sea, Sandy Ruins
Abundant: Patience, Water, Privacy
Scarce: Leaders, Safety, Heat
Remoteness: Sheltered
In a long, low cavernlies an
immense and frigid lake. It has no name.
Perhaps it is a sea: none can say how far it
stretches into the deepening gloom. The
water is tepid and silty, with a chalky taste
that few find pleasant and which brings
the drinker troubling dreams. No breeze
disturbs the water’s glassy surface, and no
structures break the shore of gray sand,
except in one place: the town of Bleakport.
The only word to describe it is “ruined,”
and it is, in every sense that matters.
The town’s once-noble stone buildings are
now cracked and half-collapsed, its mosaic-
paved streets dulled by gray sand drifts.
Rising high above town is the Lighthouse,
an immense edifice that once threw the
light of a crystal sun deep across the
dark waters, keeping evil submerged and
lighting up cavern and sea like a firefly in
a bottle of water. The light has not shone
for more than a century, and slowly but
surely, gloom seems to have crept from the
water to sink into the city’s very stones.
Shadows worry at the crumbling buildings,
12
hastening their collapse; shadow worries
into the hearts of good folk and turns
them slothful, suspicious, or sly; and some
say shadows smuggle ancient magicks and
abominable creatures in and out of the
water. Some say Bleakport now is less a
bastion against a dark subaqueous empire
than it is a port of entry.
In the days when the light still burned,
the Order of the Lighthouse tended it
and guarded these shores: an indomitable
fellowship of clerics, crusaders, and
mystics who kept a drowned evil at bay.
The Order still patrols, but leaderless,
with numbers far too few; their armor is
tattered and their champions weak and
aging. Some have shadows in their eyes.
The call still goes out for brave defenders
to join the fight, but few now answer.
Many who come are less interested in
a hopeless cause than the promise of
treasure out on the misty waters: ships
still set out now and then from the
town’s rotting docks. Perhaps half return,
and some that do come back changed,
 Ten Volumes > Bleakport

their crews all smiles, a queer shadowed
ungleam somewhere deep behind their
eyes.
Most of Bleakport’s residents keep
themselves to themselves, squatting in the
decaying ruins and managing their own
dark business. But a few still fight to keep
the tide at bay, and hope in their hearts to
one day see the light return.
Touchstone
Ƿ Rumors say a conclave of fungal
druggists will set up their wares next
murk in the wet sand beneath the docks,
offering only the rarest and most potent
distillations.
More People
Mother Ember
• tends the sick
• waits patiently for the return of her husband,
who swam away six years ago

The Endless Pier. Some say when the Lestro

mists creep in from the water to swallow • gaunt-faced guide
the end of the longest pier, one can keep • refers to himself in the third person
walking down it as long as one likes, and
never find an end to the planks of rotten
Seeker Grigorii
old timbers. Most who say this, to be • corrupt cleric with a loyal militia
fair, are drunks at the tavern of the same Peggy Charn
name near the docks, where a brew made • barmaid at the Endless Pier
of fermented liquorice and a splash of
seawater is always on tap, and dogfights, Old Man Kresimir
ratfights, and fistfights provide most of the • lives in a ruined tower filled with secrets
entertainment.
Ametrine
• Marblekin painter
Seeds • paints nothing but dark waters

Ƿ Seeker Kestra, a battered but

undefeated member of the Order, needs More Places
your help investigating a brother Seeker
The Endshoals
she suspects is part of an underground
• bodies of the dead are left in the water there
operation smuggling something hideous
• they are never seen again
out of the water.
Ƿ Captain Merrish of the Tarquin,
The Drowned Fiddler
a steam-powered caravel, seeks crew for • decrepit, abandoned ship tied up at the docks
• reportedly haunted
a voyage to Sparkledown Rock only a
few leagues off shore, to investigate what the old sewers
happened to the gemstone miners his • run beneath the city, wet and dripping
employers sent there.
the Bone Game
Ƿ Watery lights and strange sounds
• a weekly meetup of gamblers casting
like twisted music come from the long-
knucklebones on a ruined rooftop
abandoned guild hall on certain nights.
the top of the Lighthouse
Ƿ Screams and distant chitters mark an
• the dark, ash-blackened crystal behind a
attack of shadefish, eel-like shadows that
dusty velvet rope
slither up the beach and wrap themselves
around bodies and throats like chains.
13
Grand Lithic Station
A crossroads of caravans, trains, and trade routes,
carved out of a cubic mile of stone.
Themes: Crossroads, Legendary
Terrain: Endless Tunnels, Giant’s Causeways
Abundant: Trade, Open space, People, Tack
Scarce: Community, Art/Culture
Remoteness: Well-Known
Opening a reliable routethrough the
Down from one place to another is a rare
and difficult proposition. Over the years
many have come to the conclusion that it’s
simpler to reach some well-known nexus,
and hope a road to your destination can be
found from there. The most famous such
meeting of ways is the great concourse of
Grand Lithic Station, an enormous cube
a mile on each side hollowed out of solid
rock, walls glimmering with flecks of mica,
a hundred mighty pillars vanishing into
the mists that float in its upper vault.
The ways that converge here are not
constant or consistent: grand railroads
with elegant cars pulled by steam engines,
widened tunnels crawled by blind
rockmoles bridled to sturdy carriages;
tramways pulling colorful cars up or down
through endless voids; rivers floated by
long canoes or elegant barges; even just
decently-flagged footpaths. Routes are
constantly changing with conditions, or as
new ambitions sprout up or wither.
14
All the lines converge in rows of parallel
platforms on the floor of Grand Lithic,
but routing and scheduling the sundry
conveyances is an enormous challenge,
and finding one’s departure platform at all,
let alone on time, can be a near-herculean
task. Stevedores pull goods up to the
platforms on great chains connecting to
cavernous warehouses below, and the air
is always filled with clatters and cries and
grumbles, the grinding of engines, the
grunts of great beasts, and a thousand
curious smells.
Clustered around the edges of the
cubic volume are tall hotels, embassies,
markets, and guildhalls, and a thousand
travelers always bustling by. Grand Lithic
is a place of many meetings, and many
watchful eyes. Exotic goods and important
personages pass through on a daily basis.
You never know here who or what you
might bump into.
 Ten Volumes > Grand Lithic Station
Touchstone
The League of Wayfarers, a private
club for only the most storied travelers
of the Down, maintains a lounge for
members far up the wall, with a terraced
patio overlooking the chaos of the
platforms far below. The most storied
adventurers rub shoulders and trade
rumors here—but an invite can be harder
to come by than the rarest currency.
Seeds
Ƿ On sale in the market to the highest
bidder: a rare enchanted Reticulum,
mystically aligned with the tunnels and
passageways of the Down. This item
grants the bearer one additional Update
the Map move each time they arrive in a
volume.
Ƿ Workers no longer go into the
warehouses under Platform 19, on
account of the spiderwebs and the hideous
chittering noises
Ƿ Ethelinia, a worm-tamer with a
shock of gray hair and eyes that vanish
within her pudgy face when she smiles,
15
offers to take you on a secret route to a
volume you greatly wish to reach, if you’re
willing to ride on the back of her purple
worm Elo
Ƿ A caravan of carts pulled by huge rams
is pouring into the station, overloaded
with refugees from a distant war; many
need medical attention, some might have
vital intelligence
Ƿ A trio of bespectacled rock gnomes
would like you to invest in their plan to
open a route to a nearby volume; they
are happy to demonstrate their smoke-
belching boring machine
Ƿ Word on the street is that tonight
will be a Rainfall, when the misty clouds
hugging the top of the cube are dispersed
by the striking of enormous tuning forks
that precipitate them. Both the Rain and
the jaw-dropping sounds are cause for
celebration.
Special Rule: Grand Lithic Station may
have a maximum of eight connections to
other Volumes, instead of only four. Some,
but not all of these, may be Paths.
 Ten Volumes > The Oozeways

The Oozeways
A slimy maze of monsters, monster-hunters, and
squishy secrets.

Themes: Unusual Hunters, University

Terrain: Ooze, Noxious Warrens
Abundant: Monsters, Fungus
Scarce: Buildings, Safety, Tack
Remoteness: Sheltered

No one can saywhere the yellow slime of the tunnels—queasily organic, as if

comes from: is it the suppurations of left behind by the passage of enormous,
unspeakable monsters? a slurry of decaying ancient worms—offer no place to hide.
fungus? primordial matter left over from Each step is a battle to keep from being
the world’s making? Whatever its source, it pulled down into the gunge yourself.
fills the cramped and curving halls of the
And yet there are people here, of a sort:
Oozeways—never less than knee-deep and
hunters after rare, oleaginous quarry;
often far deeper—in seemingly infinite,
sludgefolk who’ve mastered the ways of
reeksome, eye-stinging quantities. The
survival in these gloopy tunnels and call
Oozeways are a maze of slime: hundreds
them home; outcasts and apostates who
of miles of queasy-smooth passageways
can find peace nowhere else; fungus-
wrapped around and around themselves
hunters reaping an always bountiful
like a bowl of noodles turning to sludge.
harvest. Just be careful who you trust,
And the maze is full of monsters.
come in with a plan for getting out, and
Slime-swimmers like the fang-toothed don’t forget your goggles. One bad splash
Muck Slug or the poisonous gunkfish; is all it takes to ruin your day.
slime-feeders like the snout-nosed
swamp mole or the hideous twelve-legged
sludgeskimmer insects; slime-hiders like Touchstone
the uncountable species of oozes, jellies,
The Whisper is the Down’s most
and puddings; and less common, more
prestigious school for hunters. It’s tucked
terrible beasts, like the Mireshadows or
away in a dry cave deep in the secret heart
the dreaded Ooze Dragons. You can’t run
of the Oozeways. You don’t apply to this
when your boots are sinking deep into
school: they find you. The most exclusive
the muck, and the smooth, slippery walls
16
 Ten Volumes > The Oozeways
secrets of monster-hunting, tracking, and
moving invisibly through the Down are
taught here, but rumors say the school has
an agenda of its own, recruiting its best
students for some dark and secret project.
Special Rule
You can practice Fungal Foraging on
any day spent in the Oozeways as if on a
journey, and take a Bonus to all Foraging
skill checks here.
Seeds
Ƿ Murshira, a froggy alchemist with
rotting creature-skins and bubbling vials
strapped pell-mell to her kit, needs your
help to catch a wild Gugblinker.
Ƿ A growing rumble marks the
impending arrival of a tidal slimewave,
slamming around the curve ahead in an
oozing wall.
Ƿ A rare patch of dry stone makes a
welcome campsite; at the remnants of a
previous camp are a map and crystal key.
Ƿ A conclave of puddings ahead is
singing an enchanting, burbling song.
Ƿ The tunnel opens onto a deep lake
of sludge that must be crossed somehow
to continue. How deep? Good question...
Ƿ The player with the lowest Dexterity
is suddenly pulled under the ooze,
greenish-blue tentacles wrapped firmly
around their legs.
More Places
The Esophagus
• a tall, slimy chimney
the Sponge Gardens
• once well-tended, now long-abandoned
17
Dribble’s Rest
• tiny inn dangling from chains in the ceiling
• blessedly slime-free
• proprietor Mr. Dribble
the Itch-Mite Nymph Pits
• avoid
the Seeping Canyons
• overgrown with rare fungus
The Termigot Distilleries
• some mad bottling scheme
the Sluices of Despair
• actually quite picturesque
Table of Oozeways Fungal Side Effects
» When you roll for a temporary side effect of
fungus foraged in the Oozeways, the GM may
ask you to instead roll d12 here:
1 Develop an insatiable craving for ooze
2 Your gaze sets flammable things on fire
Your eyes water so profusely you will die
3 of dehydration if you don’t stay hydrated
You can speak with ooze-creatures and
4
other scum-dwellers
Your skin becomes soft and oozy: Penalty
5 to armor class.
Your skin exudes the nauseating stench
6 of the Ooze: Penalty/Bonus to Charisma
as applicable
All speech sounds to you like deranged
7 babble
You grow fangs that do your regular
8 attack’s worth of damage plus minor
ongoing poison damage
You explode into ooze which slowly
9 reforms into your body (one-time only)
All magic in a 100’ circle around you
10
stops working
Worms, the worms are everywhere,
even if you can’t see them they’re there,
11 big ones, little ones, god worms, dream
worms, oh god there are so many
12 Roll again twice and heaven help you
The Eternity Stair
Each step down causes time to run faster. Be careful
you don’t descend too far.
Themes: Profoundly Weird, Impending Doom
Terrain: Strange Physics, Steep Halls
Abundant: Food, Magic
Scarce: Safety, Light
Remoteness: Secret
It is broad enough for fiftyto walk
abreast. It is made from a stone of dark
and pearlescent green that has never
been identified. From a wide flat ledge
it descends inexorably downward into a
black chasm whose floor is lost in shadow:
lost, perhaps, in more. For the end of the
Stair, some say, touches the end of time,
and can never be reached till all the rock of
this world has worn away to dust.
Time quickens the further one descends.
Linger on the two-hundredth step down
for an hour and return to the top, and you
might find you’ve lost the better part of a
day. Spend a night on the six-hundredth
stair and a year will pass away while you
slumber. But time hastens both above and
beneath the skin: as the world ages faster,
so too does your flesh. Keep descending
into that fathomed abyss and your skin
would wrinkle as you watched, bones
crumbling with each step. You’d collapse
a lifeless husk, like fruit wintering on the
branch, before you reached the thousandth
step.
18
Stand at a point on the stair and look
down: perhaps you see other pilgrims
below you, each caught in their own
current of time. The further down they
are from you, the slower they seem to
move, until at the edge of your torchlight
are frozen statues whose every step takes
a season. Crane your head back behind
you: folk on higher steps move quicker
and quicker, until far above they become
nothing but gnat-scratches of faint gray
mist, lightning-fast scribbles the eye can’t
quite believe are real.
This is a lonely place, but you will rarely
be alone. Like moths to flame, the lure of
the Stair draws many to its glimpse of a
terrifying sublime. Buildings and tents
cluster along the sides of the first few
hundred steps (nothing blocks the middle,
by ancient taboo): houses of healing offer
fast cures, brewers and tanners lower
goods on well-measured ropes and pull
them up well-aged, and pilgrims and
mystics have their own strange rituals,
endlessly squabbling with silver-haired
 Ten Volumes > The Eternity Stair

horologists and mad chronomancers who
each claim to have their own answers. But
the truth is there are none who understand
the Stair, and any you meet who claim not
to fear it are liars.
Watch your step.
Touchstone
The Clobbered Clock, a cramped multi-
level tavern, winds along the diagonal edge
between steps 52 and 118. The buzz never
lasts for long (great for business) and the
seats near the bottom are a great place to
recover from a hangover. Grandma Ness,
proprietress, hauls up barrels of well-aged
beer from further down on a rickety pulley
system.
dancers moving up and down the steps in
different timestreams of synchronization,
but the dancers are laughing.
Ƿ Is that statue of a fang-toothed dire
panther down there starting to move?
Ƿ A squat mushroom-man named
Gom-gom with swooping mustache-gills
casts a fishing line down the Stair, but has
only pulled up rusty hooks so far.
Ƿ Last week some folk swore they saw a
flash of a deep red light far down the stair,
illuminating titanic figures thousands of
steps down, frozen in the act of climbing
up. Several new religions have since been
founded and they aren’t all getting along.
Ƿ The Cheesemakers Test Kitchen
is sadly accepting no new members at this
time.

Seeds Make sure players understand the Stair is

a bomb that can blow them right out of
Ƿ Tirish, a toothless old rock gnome,
the campaign if they’re not careful. Racing
sells trinkets and charms from a spread-
down the steps ahead of the others might
out blanket; she claims they’ll protect your
mean writing yourself out of the story.
body from the ravages of deep time, at
Remind them too it’s only minds the stair
least for a while. But then why aren’t more
frees from the shackles of time, not bodies:
people buying them?
there’s a serious cost to traveling down too
Ƿ Will you join the dance? The far. Tread lightly.
choreography is witheringly complex, with

Table of Time Dilations

» Rough guidelines for the speed of time on various steps.

Step Time Multiplier Note

50 x2 For each day you experience here, two days pass in the world.

200 x7 Each day, a week passes. Good for healing.

600 x 350 Each day, a year passes. Good for witness protection programs.

700 x 1,000 Nothing below this point appears to be moving from above.

The Rope: A mouldering safety line at waist height blocks the 775th stair, marking the point below which sane
folk do not venture. Looks ancient, but actually replaced once a day—quickly—by a brave order of knights.

800 x 10,000 Each second, three hours pass above; one day is 27 years

Each second, a year passes; mortals die in moments.

1000 x 3,000,000
The stairs don’t stop here. They keep going down.

19
Thalassia
An undersea empire of sunken cities, jellyfish
philosophers, and titanic seabeasts.

Themes: Weird City, Ruled by Sages

Terrain: Underground Sea, Sulfur Vents
Abundant: Water, Harmless Animals, Privacy
Scarce: Air, Light, Skilled Labor
Remoteness: Sheltered

The Brineful Sea fills a vast chasm drifting subaqueous cities. Many live alone,
in the Down, stretching in jagged strokes swallowed up by the miles and solitude.
across countless miles and to unmeasured There are many places to hide in Thalassia.
depths. Here be monsters. Great titans
Air-breathers visit these realms too, via
of the deep move through cold and
creaking brass submersibles or enchanted
unlit empires, stirring the silt of flooded
rings granting protection from the
kingdoms and great temples to lost aquatic
crushing pressure and lack of air: these are
gods. Alien seabeasts and chittering
sometimes rented to outsiders at official
predators swim these waters, and only
ports of entry, for a price. Some anchored
the very well-prepared should consider
cities have pressurized districts where
swimming with them.
drykin—air-breathing folk—live, work,
But the upper reaches of the Brineful are or trade. Their nimble fingers are prized
somewhat less treacherous—still cold, for certain tasks, especially construction
but less stygian. Here is the heart of the and maintenance, that more slippery
empire of Thalassia. Blue-gold strands of appendages can struggle with.
luminescent algae and vibrant lightfish
illume a realm ruled by the graceful Ji’Jiesh,
huge jellyfish philosophers both respected Touchstone
and feared. Many other kinds of aquatic
Rij Karlash, the Ji’Jiesh capitol, is home
Folk make their homes here under their
to the largest dry quarter in Thalassia. The
protection. Seal-folk, fish-folk, mermaids,
city as a whole is a jewel of the deep: a
and lobster-men share the water with
shimmering aquapolis grown from coral
sentient sharks and quizzical octopucians.
and broad-leafed kelps, each building
Some drift where the currents take them;
swaying gently in the currents, brilliantly
others gather in cliffside villages or
20
 Ten Volumes > Thalassia

lit by rippling phosphorescent blue-green The Greenfrond Expanse

light. There’s always work to be had in
• A forest of rippling kelp
the dry quarter, and regular submersible • Rumored to hide a powerful magic
service from small but busy Saltgate Port.
Shubrick’s Drydock
• Sprawling shipyard in a dry quarter
Seeds • Old Shubrick’s seen it all

Ƿ Brooloo, a shy turtle-folk gem

prospector, offers good pay to help extend
her map of Deathbloom Cave, two miles
Folk: The Ji’Jiesh
Experts + Water, Gender (One)
down: the name, she assures you, is purely
Squishy or gelatinous, Huge
to scare off the competition.
Revered, Introspective
Ƿ The Ji’Jiesh sorcerer Kli’klialum,
they say, has lost all reason, mentally Enormous jellyfish whose ten-foot-wide
enslaving dozens of drykin laborers to bells are filled with colored, pulsating light.
build an immense wooden sphere for an Long streaming tentacles can stretch a
unknown purpose. hundred feet or more behind them. They
Ƿ A party member or NPC is carried off are a telepathic folk who sense the outside
in the jaws of an immense shark, but world only dimly, living a vivid inner life in
there’s no blood: perhaps they were taken a sea of each others’ thoughts and dreams.
for some reason other than a meal. A limited but potent telekinesis lets them
manipulate objects, but they mostly rely on
Ƿ A high-pressure leak in a dry
other Folk to carry out their great projects
quarter dome requires the urgent
and perform their esoteric experiments.
mobilization of volunteers.
Ƿ Captain Trin Asters needs heroes
to protect an important ambassador riding
in her submarine, the Fathom’s Kiss.
Ƿ The watery Musea Pelagia, well-
guarded by sharkfolk, exhibits some of the
most beautiful sculpture in the empire,
including one unlawfully pilfered statue
that an indignant historian would like you
to steal back.

More Places
The Firefields
• a hot water zone dominated by glowing red
volcanic vents

Sargassil
• A town of blubbery eccentrics and exiles at
the lower reaches of the empire

21
Iris and Umbra
Two religious orders with a bitter rivalry, survivors of
a long-ago schism, need each other to survive.
Themes: Rival Forces and Radical Lifestyle
Terrain: Winding Caverns and Deep Canyons
Abundant: Religion, Heat/Light (Iris)
Scarce: Buildings, Heat/Light (Umbra)
Remoteness: Secret
Lost in the depthsof the Canyon of
Fathoms are a pair of remote hermitages:
once a single holy site devoted to the
fight against evil, now divided. An ancient
schism in the war against unseen evils
creeping up from deepest Down split
the order into two factions with radically
different philosophies.
On one side of the canyon are the cold
cells and chapels of the Order of Umbra,
carved into caves running with ice-cold
streams. The Umbrans believe to look
upon the ancient evils of the deepest
places—to illume them with light and thaw
them with heat—is a terrible blasphemy.
To assert their ultimate commitment to
this belief, they are all blind, by birth or
choice. They eat cold cave fish from the
frigid streams, and trade them reluctantly
with their hated rivals across the way, in
exchange for the soft mosses they must
use for bedding to keep the chill of their
dark chambers from seeping into their
bones.
22
On the canyon’s other side is the Order
of Iris, whose courtyards and temples are
built around hot vents in the stone. The
Irisians believe the ancient evils can only
be defeated with constant vigilance and
unflinching scrutiny under burning light;
accordingly, they never sleep, aided by a
special mushroom that grows near the
vents and imparts wakefulness to those
who consume it. A soft thick moss grows
rampant through their hot and humid
chambers, and they trade it reluctantly
with their hated rivals across the way, in
exchange for the fish oil they need to keep
their many lamps burning brightly.
Despite the severity of their beliefs, each
Order welcomes pilgrims not yet ready to
make the ultimate commitment. Visitors to
Umbra must be blindfolded, and seekers
in Iris are given no beds to sleep on, but
respectful guests may stay as long as they
like. Some in each Order are teachers,
mystics or sages of great renown. Even
in the way they pass down their wisdom,
they differ. The Umbrans have no books,
 Ten Volumes > Iris and Umbra
passing down oral histories and detailed
philosophies of the fight against the deep
evils. The Irisians, in turn, value only the
practical, disdaining theory in favor of
concrete plans to fight: they forge weapons
and refine protective magics. But each
sect has profound teachings to share
with those humble enough to seek them,
and sometimes two radically different
perspectives are needed to see a whole
truth.
Touchstone
The Temple of the Enduring
Struggle in the middle of the canyon, a
remnant of pre-schism times, is sacred
to both the Umbrans and the Irisians:
they worship there when the Fuzz glows
dimmest and brightest, respectively. Rising
above the nave is the massive pockmarked
statue of the legendary paladin St. Ishild,
holding her sword above a mass of
writhing and tentacled horrors, preparing
to plunge it downward.
Seeds
Ƿ The Umbrans complain of an
unsavory giggling heard from time to
time within their caves, never coming from
the same place twice. So far, no one has
ever caught an intruder, or even heard any
footsteps as one slips away.
Ƿ The Abbott of Iris was
excommunicated after being caught
napping; now he roams the floor of the
canyon in the tattered remnants of his old
vestments, desperate for redemption.
Ƿ An unforgivable slight at the last
trading session has put a halt to the
exchange of goods; Umbra is growing
shivery without fresh moss and Iris is
terrified of lengthening shadows as their
lamps, one by one, gutter out.
23
Ƿ The exalted Umbran monk
Panchala is an master of blindfighting,
but hasn’t taken a new student in seven
years.
Ƿ The sixty hours of chanting called
the Lifesong of Iris is said to cure many
incurable ailments and be one of the most
beautiful sounds in the Down, but the
Order will only sing it for a cause they
unanimously deem worthy.
Ƿ A sudden earthquake collapses an
Umbran cave full of initiates: practicality
and orthodoxy might soon come to
loggerheads in the quest to free them.
More Irisians
The Archimandrite
• revered and ancient monster hunter
Lamplighter Kenquo
• overhears much
Cantor Ishiqua
• maestersinger from an antlered folk
the Murkwise Prelate
• no one can quite remember his official duties
More Umbrans
Novitiate Bup
• assigned to chaperone pilgrims
Auntie Grayskin
• visiting Shestal historian
• not her real name
The Ovate
• her specialty is divination
Ekkin the Hierophant
• very wise
• very busy
Seeker Tarin
• was once an Irisian
• the last who remembers certain stories
New Rule > Paths

24
 New Rule > Paths
Paths
A trip between two Volumes in the Down
is normally a matter of careful wayfinding
and judicious use of Tack: no two journeys
take precisely the same route. But it’s
possible for two Volumes to become
connected in a more stable fashion. Such a
connection is called a Path, and should be
drawn on your Map with a doubled line.
Paths can only connect Well-Known or
Sheltered volumes; a Secret destination
can’t be connected to a Path.
Paths should be rare. The GM can
decide when it makes sense to include
one: perhaps between two Volumes with
an established trade history, or between
a Volume and a crossroads like Grand
Lithic Station. Paths make journeys more
routine and less exciting, so they should be
exceptions, not the rule.
Paths degrade. When the players Update
the Map and choose “Ask for route
updates,” instead of adding or removing a
connection, the GM might mark a Path as
degraded by drawing a small X through it
on the map. This might be from a cave-in,
a monster infestation, a bandit takeover,
or anything else that might make the way
unsafe. A degraded Path acts like a normal
connection, providing no extra benefits.
It can be restored by Forging a New Path
with a length of 1 segment (next page).
25
Taking a Path
When traveling via a Path, modify
the journey procedure in the Downcrawl
rulebook as follows:
Ƿ When you Plan a Journey, calculate
the journey target number as if most of
your group has been to your destination
(halve the number, rounding down).
Ƿ When making Travel Rolls, treat
any result as Success except a Crit Fail,
which causes you to lose d4 Tack and
leave the journey clock unchanged. If
you run out of Tack, you’re Lost: proceed
as if not on a Path until you fix that.
Ƿ Don’t roll to Arrive; take a Success.
Ƿ You can Encamp, but can only do
Passive Encamp Actions: on a familiar
route there’s no Tack to find, you can’t
cover your trail, and all the good fungus
has been foraged out.
Ƿ The GM should make Terrain
moves as normal for the first trip along
a Path, and save the sequence of results
for future journeys. Don’t use the
optional Table of Terrain Consequences.
Ƿ Roll for Encounters as normal,
and try to pick appropriate Challenge
Context options for the path you’re on.
 New Rule > Paths
Forging New Paths
Players might wish to open or restore a
safe route between connected Volumes.
Doing so is ambitious, but possible. Follow
the procedure below when forging a path.
Requirements:
Ƿ The players must have previously
traveled the route of the proposed Path,
and must be in a volume on one end.
Ƿ The GM must approve each new Path:
creating one may not always be possible.
Ƿ A Path cannot connect to a Secret
volume (although a GM might rule that
campaign events have changed a volume’s
Remoteness to no longer be Secret).
Ƿ It takes at least three players (or fewer
and some helpful NPCs) to Forge a Path.
Segments:
Forging a Path requires clearing individual
path segments. To calculate how many
segments you need to clear, start with 0,
add 1 for each Well-Known end of the path,
and add 2 for each Sheltered end.
Clearing a path segment takes a week of
in-game time, and each player must pass a
construction challenge. Players don’t have
to complete all path segments at the same
time: you can leave a path unfinished for a
session or two and return to it later.
To pass a construction challenge, a
player picks a skill or ability, justifies why
it applies to helping clear the path, and
makes a roll. All kinds of abilities might
plausibly be invoked: brute strength for
manual labor, charisma for charming
locals, an Investigation skill for scouting
good routes, attack rolls for clearing out
infestations, etc. The only requirement
is it must involve a die roll: it can’t be
something that automatically succeeds.
A player must use a different skill or ability for
each segment of a path.
26
If a construction challenge fails, the player
must choose either to pay a price for
failure, or double down and roll again.
To pay a price, pick an option from the
Table of Prices below. A price does not
have to be settled immediately, but must
be dealt with before the current path
segment can be marked as complete.
To double down, the player rolls the same
skill check a second time. If they succeed,
they’ve passed the challenge. If they fail
again, however, they must roll on the Table
of Hazards (next page) to add a permanent
negative feature to the Path.
Table of Prices
» Each price can only be picked once per Path.
If you’ve paid every price, roll instead on the
Table of Hazards. Explain why your character’s
fumble has led to this price.
Ƿ A significant fee: to pay workers
overtime, bribe officials, replace wasted
materials, etc.
Ƿ An exorbitant fee: to neutralize a
swarm, pay off a royal, rebuild a bridge, or
something equally expensive.
Ƿ A long delay: add two more weeks to
the construction time.
Ƿ Burn out: the player who failed their
roll adds two level of Exhaustion until the
end of the session.
Ƿ Extra scouting: spend 3 Tack.
Ƿ An unexpected quest: something
unforeseen has come up that must be dealt
with: a troublesome enemy in the way who
needs deposing, a social challenge to beg
a favor from an important NPC, special
magic required to keep a route through
dangerous terrain stable, etc.
Ƿ Unpopular project: the residents of
one or both volumes the path connects to
have turned against you.
Ƿ Unwanted attention: Raise the Danger.
 New Rule > Paths
Table of Path Hazards
» Roll d8 and add the Danger level. Add the Hazard rolled to the map: it’s now a permanent feature
of this Path. A Path can have multiple Hazards. If you roll the same Hazard again for the same Path,
treat as No Hazard.

1-2 No Hazard
3 One-Way only acts as a Path in one direction (your choice)

4 Exposed can’t Encamp while on this Path

5 Dangerous Raise the Danger when setting out on a journey via this Path
Add 1 to the journey target number when Planning a Journey
6 Difficult along this path

7 Confusing Spend 2 Tack to begin a journey along this Path.

Each time you Plan a Journey along this Path, first roll d6: if you
8 Unstable roll a 1, the Path has degraded.

All Opportunities rolled on Travel Encounters along this path

9+ Cursed become Threats.

Example: the players would like to Forge
a Path between Catalyst and their base in
Bleakport. The GM approves this, so they
calculate how many segments they’ll need to
do: 1 for Catalyst since it’s Well-Known, and
2 for Bleakport since it’s Sheltered: 3 in total.
They decide to immediately spend a week
on the first Path segment. Mara the Fighter
does her construction challenge first. She
decides to use a brute Strength check,
heading up a team of laborers widening
tunnels and clearing away debris. She rolls
and succeeds!
Next up is Parlo the Mage. He picks an
Arcane Knowledge skill check for his
roll, explaining he’s using his sensitivity
to dangerous magicks to find the safest
route. He flubs his roll, so must make a
choice: pay a price, or double down and
risk a permanent hazard. He decides to
play it safe and pick a price, and chooses
“An unexpected quest” from the Table of
Prices. The GM decides that Parlo’s failed
roll meant he missed an ancient, magically
protected tomb near the route chock-full of
nasty undead, and now some of the workers
are mysteriously disappearing. The players
27
will have to address this issue before this
path segment can be marked complete.
First, though, they decide to finish their
construction challenge rolls. Last up is
Elquo the Bard. They decide to make a
Perform check to keep the work crews fired
up and entertained. Unfortunately, the
roll fails. Elquo is rather confident in their
performance abilities, so chooses to double
down and roll again. But improbably, the
second roll also comes up a miss! Elquo’s
player rolls on the Table of Path Hazards
and gets 7: Confusing. They explain that
the workers were actually so annoyed by
the singing their route went in several
unexpected directions. He adds a note
“Confusing: must spend 2 Tack” next to the
path on the map.
That’s all the challenge rolls for this path
segment: the players will need to deal with
the unexpected quest of the disturbed
tomb before they can finish it or begin
new segments. The GM notes that “An
unexpected quest” can’t be chosen again as
a price during construction of this Path;
and if “Confusing” is rolled again as a
Hazard, it won’t add any new downsides.
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The same core journey rules and pointcrawl philosophy as Downcrawl,
customized for adventures in an endless sky!
Ƿ Generate floating, story-rich Lands for players to explore, like sky-
pirate pleasure barge Siren’s Respite, or the haunted hollow world of
Wintertide Wood
Ƿ Build a paper orrery at the table, charting the positions of Lands as
they whirl through the sky in eccentric orbits. If you sail too far from
home, it might not be there by the time you get back!
Ƿ Tables for unique skies to sail through, unusual airships of all
descriptions, and flying Folk
Ƿ 120+ new Encounter Contexts for deep sky surprises, from sentient
clouds to steampunk smugglers
Ƿ A complete alchemy system that lets you distill trace elements from
the wild winds into powerful compounds
Ƿ 75 pages with gorgeous woodcut art, a setting compatible with any
fantasy roleplaying system

Find it online at skycrawl.textories.com

and from DriveThruRPG!