Factions and Denizens - The Cyclopean Organ #2

We're back in the guts of the Cyclopean Organ. Little more stream of consciousness this time as I put together a few more elements to flesh the idea out. Should probably read the first post if you want to get anything out of my fevered brainstorming.

First, I want to get some residents of the Organ worked out. Just because nobody from the village has been into the Organ in forever doesn't mean there's nothing intelligent there. Definitely want to have the potential for minor faction play, so that means at least two current types of residents, and preferably one more minor presence.

The Longfolk

Originally, I was going to have the builders of the Organ be some generic fee-fi-fo-fum giant types, and leave it at that. But I've been thinking more about the purpose of the thing itself, and its relevance to the curse these ancient big bois left behind before they disappeared from history. I think the Organ was an ultimate expression of their values, both their legacy and the source of the curse itself. Most relevant to the builders, I think the Organ was a comfortable place for them, a home-y place. Maybe even a home. Which suggests that they like long, twisting tunnels. Why?

Uzumaki - Junji Ito

These bastards long.

Not tall, long. They lived in a network of tunnels beneath the rich grasslands, evidenced by the rolling hills, bulged out of the earth by the remnants of their burrows. This also explains why they disappeared so completely. They didn't die out - they merely went into hibernation, curled up in their subterranean hive-cities, awaiting the Organ's final fugue. The few that were left to inhabit the Organ itself have just awoken, and they're nearly feral with hunger after their centuries-long slumber.

The Longfolk are huge, with twisting limbs and many-jointed fingers. They're pallid and visibly slick. They slither through their tunnels (and the pipes of the Organ), the wet curves of their stretched-out bodies writhing along behind them. Their limbs move like freakish rubber hose cartoons. Their faces are round and flat and much too large even for their size. They are always grinning.

Longfolk

12 HP, 16 STR, 12 DEX, 14 WIL, Bite (d10)

- Almost perfectly silent despite their enormous size. Light sources reflect off of eyes and perfectly white teeth

- Fingers and limbs disappear into the darkness, creep in from the side and behind to grab and entangle stragglers

- Critical Damage - Limb bit off, or begins to turn into flexible, tube-like appendage upon contact with saliva

The Reedkeepers

The Longfolk were diligent. They constructed their Organ of rustproof metal and petrified wood, so it could withstand the weathering of ages. They worked magics on their materials to ensure they would remain gleaming and new. They skillfully designed the workings of the consoles and their keys within the Organ, so should the thing need to be played manually the action would remain as responsive and precise as ever. There was only one thing that couldn't function indefinitely - the impossibly-thin metal membranes of the reeds.

So the Longfolk, skilled in the shaping of flesh and the manufacture of life, created servants to maintain the music-making apparatus for generations. They created the Reedkeepers, a people born to shun the light of the outside world, to live and breed and die within the deepest reaches of the Organ.

The Reedkeepers are as fragile and graceful as cranes, because they must tweak and repair the delicate reeds with their long, curved claws. They're as moon-eyed and silent as bush babies, because they must live undetected in the blackest depths of the Organ. They're as resilient and parasite-ridden as urban opossums, because it's endearing to me. They drink condensation off the inside of the pipes, and eat termites from carefully maintained colonies in non-essential sections of the Organ's wooden body.

The Reedkeepers are shy, but curious. They speak in excited, stumbling whispers, inverting syllables and confusing words - they learned common from the occasional farmers that rest at the mouth of the Organ on their way home from their fields. They tell stories and recite poetry, and can be befriended with a sufficiently wondrous tall tale. They never, ever make music in any form, and shun any who do, whether with voice or instrument or the Organ itself. The Reedkeepers were born to maintain the Organ, not use it. (The Longfolk created small, Reedkeeper-sized consoles throughout the Organ just in case, but they've never touched them in all these long years).

Reedkeeper

4 HP, 6 STR, 14 DEX, 8 WIL, Claw (d6)

- Stick-thin and stooped

- Easily frightened, will shadow the party until gentle contact is made or they're scared off

- Will not fight unless absolutely cornered or their reeds are threatened, which they protect with suicidal fervor

- Skilled at scaling and clinging to the walls and ceilings of the Organ interior.

The Pirates

Okay, yes, less weird than the others, but clearly there's no way nobody's crept into this place before, right? Someone's got to be desperate enough for absolute privacy in these parts to use the abandoned reaches of the Organ. There's not much in the way of trade or industry in these parts, not much to steal, so that leaves piracy. There's bound to be a stash or two in the shallowest parts of the Organ. Especially now that the thing has sounded, and everyone knows the party is headed to investigate. I'll leave developing this for the actual encounter table.

Pirate

6 HP, 12 STR, 10 DEX, 8 WIL, Sword (d6), Flintlock (d8, 2 rounds reload)

- Occasionally carry stick of Dynamite (d8 blast) for use in desperate circumstances

- Sometimes recognizable as local or regular in the port

- Rarely looking to fight to death, but not willing to part with their stash lightly

Next I'm gonna start hammering together some tables; again, I'm stealing my format straight from The Stygian Library, which means next time we're looking at Locations, Details, and Random Events/Encounters.