Here's some random stuff from the long running Nightwick campaigns that doesn't really fit in the book and doesn't really have a coherent enough theme to be sorted into another kind of post.
Mumbletypeg
Of all the stupid amusements shared by both Bogdani and Realmishman there is none so stupid but also none more beloved as mumblteypeg. In the Dark Country variety the aim of this game is to throw a knife down at your own boot and the closest "without going over" (and suffering grievous injury) wins!
The mechanical representation of this is rather simple. Both players make an attack role against their unarmored* AC (10 + their dex bonus). The winner is the player who scores highest *without* meeting or beating their AC. Naturally this give an advantage to those with a high dex bonus, but games are never fair.
Usually a wager is involved, but some drunkards have been known to do it purely for the thrill of the thing.
Some say this was an import from some other realm, though the most likely candidate for its origins is the Kingdom of Vulgary to the north. Vulgarian rules may be different from those described above.
Songs of the Dark Country
Over the years of the campaign both Nightwick Regulars/Howling Kommandos and the Weeknight Nightwick groups have been subjected to my butcherings of traditional songs to fit the Dark Country. Some are likely lost with G+ but a selection of those I can find are replicated below with some of their context.
The first is variously known as "the Brown Lady," "The Eunuch's Lament" and "Mab and the Madman" and tells the tale of a Zenopolitan Witch Hunter who heads into the 'Wood of Witches' to kill a fairy-witch queen. The parts in brackets noted are in a poorly formed, dog-bogdani.
The snippet opens with a part sung by the fairy-witch queen:
I can make thou feelest well,
[Walking in the wood],
And thou shalt never go to Hell,
[Where it's always autumn],
The Zenopolitan did say,
[Walking in the wood],
That his dick was made of clay,
[Where it's always autumn],
And he struck her right upon the head,
[Walking in the wood],
And the Elven Witch she fell straight dead,
[Where it's no longer autumn],
There is said to be an older version, written before the news of the victory at the Battle of the Witchfort, where the fairy-witch queen successfully tempts him. It is now lost to time.
This second one is commonly used as a marching song by the men known as the Howling Kommandos:
Well they were cast out of eaven when their bag became a burden,
So instead they made their garden where the banks of burdocks grow,
And there were was no gold or silver on the banks of the Dark River,
In the land of the Bogdani where the banks of burdocks grow,
Chorus:
Where old panes are broken and a thousand tongues are spoken,
And new saints awaken where the banks of burdocks grow,
So farewell cold winter we shall all go out together,
In the land of the Bogdani where the banks of burdocks grow,
There is no peace or plenty in the land of the Bogdani,
And the rain falls down so swiftly where the banks of burdocks grow,
And a pretty young maiden is a candle in the darkness,
But it’s a bright and blazing furnace where the banks of burdocks grow,
Chorus
Well the pope sent out his army to the land of the Bogdani,
And the soldiers they were weary where the banks of burdocks grow,
So they stormed the temple quarter and the glass fell down like water,
In the land of the Bogdani where the banks of burdocks grow,
Chorus
Third we have one that I didn't deploy at the time but was at least mentioned as being sung by knockers in mines outside the town of Blackleg:
It's dark and dank down in the mine,
And demons come out by surprise,
And none o' ye shall leave alive,
Ye dirty little miners,
Dunnae gang down in the mine,
Across the top we stretched a line,
To catch you throat and break your spine,
Ye dirty little miners,
Down here is a terrible place,
We'll rub wet clay on yer dying face,
And in the dark we'll run a race,
To catch ye little miners,
We'll grab yer duds, yer picks as well,
And hoy ye down the pit o' hell,
So down ye go and fare ye well,
Ye dirty little miners
Most recently the Weeknights in Nightwick group faced a trio of groans who sang a little song about themselves:
Oak of the clay saw many a day,
Fore e'er Acheron be damned,
Ash of the loam was a lady at home,
Before there was nary a man,
Thorn of the down so a little town,
From which was Lychgate born...
However upon hearing the approach of the PCs the groans ceased their songs and switched to lobbing rocks.
Updates to the World of Nightwick Calendar
A combination of my inability to remember my own day names and a recent diet in the city of Koenigsburg means I have revised the days of the week thusly:
Sunday
Moonday
Swordsday
Wandsday
Cupsday
Coinsday
Devilsday
The Zodiac of the World of Nightwick
Warren had asked me to work up a list of astrological signs and so I did. They are in roughly the same order as those of our world - so the Undine being analogus to Pisces roughly overlaps with beginning of the month of Primes, being the start of the year in the World of Nightwick but representing March.
The Scitalis - the monster of the same name
Queen [sic] Moloch - A minotaur
Bophades - depicts a pair of twins whom Acherontic texts claims are... well now we say they're wrestling and it's Fine.
The [sic] Al Miraj - the monster of the same name
Aslan - A lion
The Uke - a beautiful male youth playing a stringed instrument
Ligma - two... weights
The Basilisk - the monster of the same name
The Measurer - a woman with a measuring tool in front of a 10x10 square
The Hippocampus - the mythical creature of the same name
The Torcherbearer - a youth carrying a torch
The Undine - in Acherontic texts it is said to depict a fish but all modern texts say it depicts a woman
* It is considered gauche to play while still in armor, though the specifics may be negotiated by the participants.
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