B'gutym, the Land of Grass and Stones, Vol I -- A Thousand Thousand(er) Islands Part I

Nine Days,

Fording Five Rivers to the North

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The only sound is a gentle song winding through the burial mounds. As you approach a wall, a voice from nearby mumbles to you, “Quiet, or they’ll hear you.”

Dihargai’s Gift

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The land of grass and stone is an unforgiving place, loathe to give up its bounty to the people.

There was a king who ruled B’gutym long ago named Dihargai. Dignified and learned in the arts, the ruler delegated the tasks of governance to his wiser servants while he spent his time attempting to bring joy to the lives of his people.

At first, the king thought to bring his subjects happiness by offering them silks and jewels to wear. The people scoffed at him, and traded the baubles and garments for food and timber.

Undeterred, Dihargai brought priests, philosophers, and sorcerers from far and wide. His people laughed at their strange ways and scorned their teachings.

The king heard his people were hungry. He sent his servants to fetch fine fare and to bring foreign beasts to his land. The people were unimpressed, preferring the flesh of deer, goats, and boars.

Despairing at his failures, the King began to warble mournfully, the court musicians unable to cover up the sound of his voice. The people gathered around him, intent on hearing the melancholic song. Seeing they had failed their ruler by rejecting his gifts, the subjects took up their king’s song, and they accepted it as their gift.

The Grasslands

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“If you lose sight of me, you’ll wander around out here until you die,” the guide cautions you.

Meadows as high as an adult’s chest, broken only by barren crags and occasional trees. The clear blue sky yawns out in all directions. You feel agoraphobic by just looking around. Grass stretches all the way up to the shore to the south and east as if threatening to march into the sea.

Groups of deer, wild boar, and flocks of birds teem out in the fields. Bands of hunters follow behind, smoking their meat, tanning their hides, and only rarely returning to a village. The trackless expanse claims the lives of the overconfident, the unprepared, and the foolish. The night wind often carries the dead’s sonorous calls for aid.

Wise travelers ply their ways on trails dug deep by wagon wheels, escorted along by locals. The outsiders speak a hundred different tongues, their caravans are pulled along by a dizzying array of beasts. They bring wonders from across the world.

Encounters in the Plains

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You have been wandering for what seems an eternity. The uniformity of the rolling meadows is finally broken by the appearance of:

2d6
2	An overgrown cairn, now the home of a rogue weretiger exorcist. Willing to eat curses.
3	A Hollow Tiger the size of a bear, with claws that slice through armor or magic. Eats souls.
4	A crazed ancestor spirit. They make insane, contradictory demands.
5	Some hunters trailing after an injured deer with fur made of spun gold.
6	A sounder of ghost boars. They are quite perturbed over the fact that they’re dead.
7	A group of brigands. They helpfully “offer” to escort you for a small “fee.”
8	A caravan, wandering through the sea of grass.
9	An abandoned hunting camp. The angry ghosts of dead animals bedevil the area.
10	An open pit. Some miners are digging up a new claim. They will kill to defend it.
11	Vultures circling over a corpse-choked river. A gang of shades nearby continue the fight.
12	A sinkhole. There are no animals nearby; the scent of incense lingers at the entrance.

The caravanserai is crowded with dozens of vagrants, pilgrims, and merchants from the road. The tents have gone up for the night. In the cool of the evening you meet:

1d10
1	A pilgrim-monger. They have holy symbols and relics for sale from every deity or faith you’ve ever heard of, and more besides. Hates priests and refuses to deal with them.
2	A sin-eater. Buys your bad deeds off of you, leaving you with self-satisfaction instead of guilt. Plans to use the accumulated sin to become a Devil-Saint.
3	A priest in service to a death god with a handful of undead in tow.
4	A bounty hunter. Can peer through the eyes one of the dozen nightjars which follow them everywhere.
5	A knight-errant of the weasel-folk. Their polished scale armor unerringly deflects blows from the dishonorable.
6	A waifish youth, possessed by a score of spirits. Their voice makes the ears of those who listen bleed.
7	A merchant of deodands; if the object is responsible for someone’s death, they’re willing to buy it.
8	A doctor of undead medicine. Can treat corpus rot, pigment withering, or even deathmarks for small fee.
9	A drover, bringing a herd down from the north for sale. They love this route, they get to sell their stock twice!
10	A down on their luck caravan owner, having met with disaster just days before. They'll be back on top in no time!

And they are looking for:

1d10
1	A particular ghost that they’re convinced dwells among the Ancestors.
2	A safe place to go to ground or disappear. They’re on the run from the law.
3	The Egg of Enlightenment.
4	A raider named Khasar.
5	A way to curse some hated enemy with a haunting.
6	Mercenaries. This place is a lot more dangerous than they thought.
7	A magical tune known only by a renowned singer of B’gutym.
8	Knowledge regarding the time and nature of their eventual death.
9	Some means of banishing whatever is haunting them.
10	The lost village of Zirem.

And they share what they’ve heard of the locals:

1d10
1	“They won’t ever kill each other. They’re fine with killing outsiders though.”
2	“Do anything you can not to die here. Their priests eat ghosts!”
3	“If you speak too loudly, the spirits will rip out your tongue.”
4	“Make sure not to bring any instruments, or keep them out of sight!”
5	“Their ancestors struck a bargain with a demon. That’s why they don’t stay dead.”
6	“They send secret messages to one another with those blasted songs.”
7	“Y’know they worship those hollow tigers? Sometimes you’ll even see one in the village.”
8	“Don’t drink the wine. It turns your insides to stone.”
9	“Even outsiders come back as ghosts in B’gutym. It robs you of your afterlife.”
10	“They sleep with corpses and get married in tombs.”

Leluhur

Border Settlement

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A stone wall as tall as a man surrounds a cluster of buildings. Conversations are terse. Villagers hush those in the open who do not whisper, and muzzle those who yell.

The walls are cold, perpetually moist, and covered in a thick coating of bright teal and yellow colored moss. There are no guards.

“If you don’t know where you’re going, the caravan master is over there,” says the old man waving you off when you try to ask for directions.

Narrow paths snake through wide, circular buildings made of stacked granite and slate. Smoke from cooking fires fill the alleys with soot, and the smell of deer, goat, and boar meat.

Work songs ring through the fields of sorghum and millet during the day, with tall tales and family histories quietly whispered to the assembled clan at night.

Encounters in Leluhur

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You step off of the trail and into the cramped alleys of the squat stone building. There are more residents than there are houses, with the remainder living in thatched huts or tents.

A commotion is happening nearby:

2d6
2	A foreigner has broken a taboo. They’ve been gagged. The elders are deciding their fate.
3	Youths throw petals in front of an elder as she lectures. The lesson ends when the petals do.
4	“Shout! Stamp! Scream! All of you!” The death speakers are driving away a mad ancestor.
5	A group of hunters have returned with their hauls. They are headed toward the barrows.
6	Shepherds in the area have pushed their flocks into town. They sing the slaughter songs.
7	A caravan is in town. The villagers have come out in force to trade.
8	Some livestock has broken free. The owners dart around to keep them from escaping.
9	A day of song honoring a local hero. The village seeks the ghost’s help in a coming raid.
10	Some miners are selling haunted ore, entreating any customers to ignore the moans from it.
11	A pair of clan heads are engaged in an unarmed contest. A crowd has formed to take bets.
12	An elder’s regimen of mummy-wine has brought on a seizure, bringing them to their knees

The Not-Yet Dead

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Villages in B’gutym are like small towns you never can leave. Everyone comes home eventually.

Clans are led by Ancestors, who transmit their will to Elders. Elders command Adults to carry out their bidding, and Youths learn at the feet of everyone. It is the way of things.

Murder is very rare in the land of grass and stone. Exile and mutilation are far more common. Judgment is doled out by the age group above you. No one judges ancestors except their own.

Outsiders are kept at arms length. Trade and tribute is important to the land of grass and stone, but foreigners break taboos and they never come back after death. Are they even real? Who knows.

This particular member of the village:

1d10
1	Keeps cocking their head as if listening to someone. Shows strange insights.
2	Communicates only in a lilting, sing-song tone. Often toys with new verses when bored.
3	Is haunted a former enemy. Shouts at the empty air and imagines plots against them.
4	Views anything as being potentially for sale. Inquires about the cost of personal items.
5	Is followed by a small train of goats or piglets. Lets them nuzzle and butt at them freely.
6	Is utterly convinced they are descended from Dihargai. Completely fearless.
7	Sees death around every corner. Prone to panic attacks.
8	Loathes foreigners. Makes casually insulting remarks.
9	Incessantly giggles at their own jokes. Has stark white hair and unnaturally pale skin.
10	Seems to be blind, but apparently suffers no ill effects from it.

And has a problem with:

1d10
1	A business rival. They want them driven off.
2	A village elder. They ruled against them in a dispute and they want payback.
3	“That accursed gossip Kasih!”
4	Whoever stole their prized milking goat. They sure miss that cheese.
5	“The village youths are out of control. Where are their parents?”
6	The leader of a merchant caravan. Really wanted that cow. Plans to rob them.
7	Retrieving the corpse of a relative. Honor demands they bring it to the family tomb.
8	An ancestor from their own clan. They’re being pressured by the ghost to settle down.
9	A member of a rival clan. They’re continuing a generations-old feud.
10	Anything you’re willing to listen about.

And is adorned in:

1d10
1	A boar hide, along with tusks and body paint to better resemble the animal. A raider.
2	A leather smock and elbow-length gloves. They’re spattered with gore. A butcher.
3	A cowled robe with charms, talismans, and small idols hanging from it. A death speaker.
4	Foreign clothes and nice shoes. Their mouth is filled with gold teeth. A merchant.
5	Homespun clothing and a thatched grass hat. A farmer.
6	A cloth skirt, and a bundle of spears with a rain cover wrapped around them. A hunter.
7	A loose fitting dress, with skin baked by the sun. A shepherd.
8	A richly decorated robe and a headdress made of feathers and colorful grasses. An elder.
9	A loincloth and turban. Their hands are calloused and strong. A miner.
10	Bolts of silk tightly wrapped around their body. A singer.

Narantuya, Hunter

Almost always drunk on rice wine while in town, the sun-baked and ruddy faced Narantuya does not strike a cutting figure.

While on the hunt, Narantuya is a different woman. Her tread is silent. She never needs more than one arrow. She sometimes speaks to the ghosts of her kills out of guilt. They’ve started to answer.

Bayar, Foreman

He doesn’t listen to the stones anymore. Bayar made that mistake as a young man; the laughing rocks took his arm to the elbow. The death speaker gave him his limb back, in a way.

Bayar’s new arm can smash rocks apart on it’s own. He digs through the stone himself, and leads his work crew to the riches within.

Yishu, Slug-Man Merchant

The escape was supposed to be simple. They traveled west from Qelong, then stole a case of raw opium from a plantation in Sughd. They dodged the bounty hunters, and somehow arrived intact.

Their meeting with a small group of villagers flanking a silent mummy did not go well. Yishu is not allowed to sell their stock nor leave. The slug-man is growing desperate.

Walinong, Brigand

Wherever there is trade, there are those who take advantage of it. Walinong was taught the ways of extortion by her father and uncles. She was taken on her first raid at eleven.

They are all dead now, but Walinong is thriving. Her family whispers the young woman the locations of foreign caravans, she and her band of leg-breakers “escort” them. Life is good.

Jargal, Courier

He meanders from village to village, bringing news as well as letters, parcels. Secretly performs exorcisms for exorbitant prices. Exceptionally paranoid.

Jargal views himself as providing a necessary service and as an unsung hero. Hates death speakers, especially weretigers.

Zolzayaa, Taxidermist

Zolzayaa buys only the most cleanly killed beasts from the most reputable hunters. She makes them tell her the story of how the animal died. After that, it is just a matter of calling their spirit back.

The animals Zolzayaa preserves with her tools and tinctures serve as her servants out in the grasslands. She is a spy for one of the Nine Score Kings.

    Howdy there folks! I know I have been quiet for a few weeks, but I’ve been working on these two new locations for the incredibly well-written and illustrated Thousand Thousand Islands by the talented folks over at Centaur Games. A huge shout-out to them for giving me the permission to post these. I figured I’d lead with the more Halloween-themed of the two, and I should have the second part of B'gutym up in a couple of weeks. Please be sure to let me know what you think, and as always, thanks for reading!

All art is the property of its respective owners and will be taken down at their request.