On Public Baths

The people of Ramhknal hold very distinct, and perhaps unique, opinions on the merits of bathing. Unlike our other dearly held beliefs1, these are wholly beneficial. If you come from a culture that considers a layer of grime essential to protecting the pores from 'bad air,' and thus see the practice of bathing as abhorrent and likely to cause disease, it is time for me to disillusion you: you are stupid and wrong.

If you have never engaged in the difficult art of washing your own genitalia, despair not! Even the novice bather is welcome in any of Ramhknal's public baths. Such institutions are numerous and their entry fees are nominal: the Ramhknali beggar is a clean beggar. The largest of these is no doubt the Palace of Soap and Oil, a complex so massive that it qualifies as it's own contrada2. But as even a lesser establishment may bewilder and overwhelm the neophyte in it's complexity, it is my privilege to provide for you a summary of a few of the more common rooms.

Antechamber: Upon paying your fee and entering the bath, you will no doubt wind up here. Remove whatever rags you have the audacity to call clothes, stow them in any available shelf, and proceed about your business, free from the burdensome3 inconvenience of clothing. Remember, gawking at the particular and varied shapes of the hideous or rotund is considered bad form.

Please note that the baths of Ramhknal are not segregated by gender! If you have yet to become acquainted with the biology of the opposite gender, you will soon be forced to. For those looking to become intimately acquainted, I direct you to the Red Tide Contrada, where such services are offered for moderate sums4.

Cold Bath: A brief dip in cold water is known to shock the body into reorganizing its stores of the four essential humors. It is also quite refreshing, and thus this is always a popular room.

Flower Bath: This small room has a continuous rain of flower petals, which accumulate and start to form a thick carpet as the day wears on. For this reason, I recommend visiting it close to sun down.

Food Carts: A recent and unscrupulous addition.  If you're the type who can't get through a bath without Father Hunger clenching his bony hands around your stomach,  a few coins will purchase you a toad on a stick or some other such morsel. Those of us possessing fortitude will proceed with our bathing.

Garden: For those looking for a place of solace and calm, the garden will occasionally provide. At other times it will be full of the shrieks and shouts of running children. Such is life.

Gymnasium: A wide open area, perfect for the pudgy to become athletic and the athletic to strut like peacocks. Occasionally home to sporting competitions, full of sweating men, roaring crowds, and illegal gambling, the last of which is their only redeeming feature.

Hot Bath: Nothing is quite as relaxing as sitting in a hot bath, chatting idly with good friends. A room that needs no recommendation, and is always home to scintillating gossip. As a special service, a large tea ball containing the house blend may be added into the water, infusing it with a relaxing tea. A must at parties and formal occasions.

Incense Room: Here you will find three to five censers arranged in a row, each containing a different incense. You need not concern yourself about the selection; it is determined by the day of the week5. Take two or three minutes to inhale each of them in turn and then move on. Don't hold up the line, or worse yet, inhale them in reverse order.

Library: Those looking to enrich themselves with knowledge will find themselves well furnished in the Library. The books on hand are most often an eclectic mix, determined by the whims of the owner and subtracting any successful thefts. Enterprising scholars, historians, and firebrands are fond of inserting volumes into such libraries, so as to better spread their infectious (and sometimes revolting) ideas. Do not be surprised to find several philosophers angrily defending their positions on the Captan's new tax laws or the morality of eating (entirely hypothetical) intelligent rats6.

Oil Room: Lay down on any of the stone slabs and let the attendants7 decide what oil to anoint you with. In the next room these same attendants shall scrape the oil off of you, using a long, curved piece of metal called a strigil8. Some mild discomfort is to be expected; if the other patrons seem completely at ease while being scraped, it is because we Ramhknali are excellent liars.

Sand Bath: A delightful room with several streams of sand pouring from the ceiling to the floor.  Immerse yourself in the pouring stream of sand and let it scrub away any surface grime. The experience is often likened to standing within an enormous hourglass. For the novice, I recommend red sand: leave white, green, and black to the professionals.

Smoke Bath: Filled with dry air and heated by burning cedar and sandalwood, this room allows the body to reabsorb beneficial impurities. This room tends to leave the occupant smelling like bacon, which any rational man can agree is an excellent idea9.

Steam Bath: Hot and humid, this chamber is for idle conversation and the sweating out of baleful impurities. The heat is generated by an ingenious system of piping hot steam through a hollow space beneath the floor. For this reason, do not jump around in the steam bath: you're liable to punch through the floor and break the room for everybody, not to mention scalding yourself in sensitive places.

Surgery: A more infrequent room to be sure, often found only in highbrow establishments, and located on it's lonesome towards the back. Still, all surgeons in the city must legally practice inside a bath house, so that their clients may properly cleanse themselves before being operated on.

Swimming Pool: A combination cold bath and gymnasium, the swimming pool is used by the aquatically athletic, the lazy gossip, and those learning to not drown. As an aside, this last category will never include sailors: they believe you cannot cheat the sea it's due. Another reason to celebrate the swimming pool.

Toilet: The most essential room in the entire bath house as well as the most common reason for visiting one. For this reason it infallibly located near the entrance of the building. The toilet is a group affair10: stalls offer some privacy, but a healthy conversation continues at all hours.

Public baths can also be rented out for private affairs. In fact, this is expect for formal meetings, especially on matters financial or political. On such occasions it will be the host's responsibility to plan the order of events. The following is a perfectly respectable itinerary:

1. Sand Bath: Request black sand.
2. Oil Massage
3. Cold Bath: Typically the topic of the meeting is introduced here.
4. Incense Room
5. Flower Room: Lilies are considered a traditional, if somewhat uninspired choice.
6. Steam Bath: A good place for serious discussion.
7. Flower Room, the second round.
8. Smoke Bath
9. Cold Bath: Only a quick rinse, as it’s considered poor form to tarry.
10. Hot Bath: Request the tea bath.
11. Swimming Pool: Remember to provide refreshments.
12. Flower Room, the final round.

Finally, a warning: if you are the sort who must pay his own rent, do not take a room above a public bath. I can attest personally that noise goes on at all hours of the night, and that it is impossible to sleep in such circumstances.

1. Such as: There is more dignity in losing a war then in winning it, riots are a basic civil right, and large enough flies occasionally eat spiders. Challenging these beliefs is akin to insulting a Ramhknali's mother.

2. A horrifying memory returns to me of taking a wrong turn and winding up within the maintenance corridors of the Palace. Unable to find my way back, I was forced to subsist entirely on steam and a peculiar brand of orange fungi which had colonized the hot water pipes. I was found, gibbering and emaciated, by one of the contrada guard three days later.

I would later learn that my horrified pleas for help, which could be heard but for which no apparent source could be determined (the pipework dispersing their echoes across the building), were interpreted as the hauntings of a restless ghost. Whether from fear or embarrassment, I have since refused to return to that institution.

3. But often necessary!

4. Depending on your tastes, of course. Those with predilections for the strange and the unusual can fulfill their fantasies for truly tremendous sums. It is rumored that the merchant king Khinzir Fasiq, whose interests included step ladders, group activities, red hot pokers and the occasional dog, enjoyed the privilege of paying over 16,000 jinars for a single session, which typically lasted for the entirety of two weeks.

5. It is here in particular that the medicinal knowledge of Ramhknal is leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of the world. On a Monday, the body is still attempting to reinforce itself from the revels of the weekend; the inhalation of powdered oak helps strengthen the spleen and straighten the spine. On a Thursday, the body is close to exhaustion, so an admixture of lavender and cinnamon helps to rejuvenate the spirit. Since few are gifted in this subtle art, each bath house has it's own expert on staff.

6. At the time of this writing, the consensus seems to be moral, because the rat is a foul creature which plots the downfall of Ramhknal. Still, it is a contentious issue.

7. These fellows should be children from the ages of eight to thirteen; any older and you are most certainly in the wrong sort of establishment.

8. The Captan Ahmaq Waqaha II was murdered in his very own bath by a traitorous attendant with a sharpened strigil. Let this be a lesson to you: employee moral should never be taken lightly.

9. It is not for nothing that the pig is known as the noble animal. Regrettably, dog fondlers are advised to skip this room outright.

10. While in other, less civilized locales the streets are covered in filth, in Ramhknal all unpleasant bodily emissions are sent to a grand series of sewers, to which every bath house is connected to. For this reason the concept of private toilets is entirely foreign to us. As a plus, it has let us do away with the indignity of the chamber pot.

On The Stilted Manors

When the hungry ocean broke Ramhknal's sea walls, half the city flooded as the waves tidily swept aside our homes. The Ramhknali didn't take the hint: we just came back and built them again. We raised them above the lapping wave on wooden pillars, and thus were born the Stilted Manors.

Where the Drowned Contrada's flooded mansions are made of stone, the Stilted Manors1 are made of wood. A maze of bridges, docks and gangways connects the contrada, each house a knot in a great wooden web2. The buildings rest on wooden stilts, no two the same height, so that the sea won't lick their floorboards. Boats float between everything always, darting like eels at dawn and lounging like fat seals come dusk3.

Almost all of these belong to fishermen4, who comprise the vast bulk of the contrada's citizenry. Some command vessels the size of houses, which drag great nets to capture swarming  squid. Others go to out in slim catamarans, diving for braided starfish5. Some fisherman need no boat at all: they cast twelve long lines from twelve wide windows,  waiting one hour between checking each line.

They do this from their affectionately named 'dandelions', for they jut out of the water on one long wooden beam, while the top blossoms into a mess of floorboards, supports and roofs. The hermits who live within rarely leave their homes6. When they care to re-provision, they lower small boats down from winches.

And so it is with the rest of the contrada. From the meager floating platform to the pleasant formal mansion, every home has it's own rowboat. It's how folks get around. Which makes committing crimes within in the Stilted Manors supremely difficult8.  It is only natural that the Contrada Guard has shifted it's focus to the sea. From their patrol boats they protect every ship within the reach of Candlemaker's9 Light10. They call themselves the Fishing Spiders11, and are regarded as the patron saints of sailors. No matter how rough the sea, the Fishing Spiders will race to your rescue. Even the Captanate's Navy, known for being dismissive of all matters civilian, holds nothing but respect for these heroes.

1. Much like the Red Tide and Tai Jin's Zoo, the Stilted Manors are never referred to as the Stilted Manors Contrada, but always as the Stilted Manors. The origin of this particular idiosyncrasy has so far evaded this humble author.
2. Weaved, no doubt, by an utterly shit faced spider.
3. When they are often used as impromptu bridges. If you can't see a way from here to there, just jump across a few boats, and be weary of a wrathful owner.
4. The Ramhknali fisherman is the wisest in all the sea of Rum; ours are many useful secrets. It was we who tied bricks to our feet and buoyed hoses to our mouths, so that we could pluck the sea sands for sleeping snailfish. It was we who learned to color pearls crimson and azure. And it was we who learned the whale songs; when the Ramhknali fisherman sings his sea dirge the Orca hears that he is mourning, and does not trouble him in his grief.
5. A local delicacy. I recommend them pan fried in goat butter, served with chopped raw chime peppers and sour cream.
6. If the Painter's Contrada exhibits the frenzied artist, then the Stilted Manors nurtures the reclusive one. Many poets, painters, authors7 and even the occasional sculptor, not keen for company from their artistic kin, seclude themselves in their dandelions. Their lonely works often turn out distorted and surreal; a diet made exclusively of fish tends to twist the mind into strange shapes.
7. The last of these benefits greatly from the Library Barge, which quietly patrols the contrada every Sunday. Anyone may flag the boat down as it passes and borrow a book from it's respectable collection. It's a very civil arrangement, partly because it's easy to track down overdue books when the residents never leave their homes.
8. Though not, of course, impossible. Here's an example mugging: you're walking between platforms in a more connected part of the contrada. A fat man rushes by you, and in his corpulence pushes you into the sea. He yells an apology but doesn't stop. As you pull yourself from the ocean, sputtering and cursing, what you've failed to realize is that you lost your purse in the drink, where even now a small child is diving to find it. Once your money is located it shall be happily split by both parties. The humble author includes this example so that the exalted reader may learn from his mistakes.
9. Named after the candlemaker's guild, who sponsored it's construction.
10. Which is quite the feat, since it is the most powerful lighthouse in the world, a true wonder of modernity. It is my pleasure to report that the glass works of Ramhknal are second to none.
11. Named after the beloved childhood pet12.
12. For those so inclined, the Spider Fancier's Society meets every Saturday at Makhmur Albaje's Bar.

On Bak-Shah, The Child Eater

There are many dangers a traveler in Ramhknal would be well advised to avoid: mountebanks, muggers, the docks in their entirety. But one that looms large in the public imagination is Bak-Shah the tiger, and it would be negligent of me, your humble guide, to gloss over the topic entirely. Make of this entry what you will.

The known facts are these: Bak-Shah is a man eater. He skulks into Ramhknal under the cover of stars and hides in abandoned buildings. Then on moonlit nights he wanders our fair city, into our houses1, and abducts children. This he does by gently biting their entire head. This process silences their screams entirely, allowing him to carry the child away to his lair, where he may eat them at his leisure.

A dozen such lairs have been discovered. The first of these was found nearly thirty years back, and the most recent was discovered in the year of this writing. They are fetid holes, filled with the skeletons of children2, their skulls indented with fang marks. One year an expert on tigers was invited into the city. Upon seeing the number of skeletons the pit contained, he concluded that the tiger had lived within that charnel house for at least eight months.

A dozen tiger hunts have been launched. They start within the city; abandoned buildings are searched and occasionally put to the flame3. When this process inevitably fails to locate the beast, these hunts spread out into the jungles. Rough men come back with dozens of tiger pelts, and hundreds of stories: surely, the public thinks, one of these must be the dreaded Bak-Shah himself. A particularly large specimen, nearly ten feet long, was killed this year; perhaps it was the fell beast himself. But always, so far, the tiger has come back, so this humble author remains doubtful.

Now we enter into the realm of speculation. These theories cover the full spectrum of improbability, from the merely unlikely to the utterly impossible. Many accuse the tiger of possessing a strange and terrible form. For one, his size is in question. Some speculate that the tiger is enormous, standing shoulder to shoulder to a man and weighing nearly one thousand pounds4.  But another theory holds that the tiger is in fact a runt, diminutive in stature: this has made him incapable of hunting regular prey, and is why he targets children5. One popular theory asserts that Bak-Shah's coat is reversed: he is a black tiger with orange stripes. This is how he blends into the night and so far avoided detection. A few men claim to be survivors of the beast's attacks, and these witnesses claim that the tiger was serpentine in aspect, elongated and possessing dozens of paws, as if someone had stitched twelve tigers together. But surely these 'witnesses' are drunks and madmen, for the gods would not suffer such an abomination to live.

Other theories concern themselves with the tiger's origin. Some claim him to be a shape shifter, who takes on the form of a man to hide himself. Others believe him a sorcerer scorned, now enacting his terrible revenge against the city for some dimly remembered crime. Perhaps the tiger is a ghost who enters homes like a chill wind, immaterial except for his teeth. Still more theories abound: Bak-Shah is a curse, Bak-Shah is a demon, Bak-Shah is a machine constructed by the church of the Iron God. And some believe him to be merely a man, a depraved killer with a strange method to deflect suspicion. If so, he has managed to fool us all.

I will allow the esteemed reader to judge these theories upon their own merits, choosing what he will and discarding the rest. Regardless of what you choose to believe, I offer you this caveat: do not roam the streets at night, and lock your doors and windows.

1. Bak-Shah has been known to attack even in houses with locked doors. It is thought he jumps inside through open windows.
2. The occasional adult as well. Presumably these are unfortunate late night wanderers.
3. In several unfortunate incidents, with their occupants still inside.
4. How then, one wonders, does he fit through windows, or for that matter, doors?
5. But why do the pits contain adult skeletons then? And why are his visits so infrequent?

On Carrying Shit - The Modern Adventurer's Inventory Managment

Items come in two sorts: encumbering (medium shit), and non encumbering (little shit). I draw the line arbitrarily and at my whim, but 5 pounds is a good guideline.

You can carry your STR + 5 encumbering items. Every additional encumbering item after that is another -1 to all physical activity rolls.

You can carry all the non-encumbering stuff you want, because I can't be assed to keep track of it. But you must tell me in which container you are carrying it.

The most essential part of items is: you need a place to carry them! If you got nothing, it's all hands and pockets. Here's how many encumbering items you can carry in various types of containers.

Note: If this is my home game and we're doing inventory on note cards, keep each of these as a separate card.

Wearing - Armor, clothing, hats, etc.

Since all of this stuff is dispersed around your body, it all counts as half weight. Chainmail in your backpack takes up four slots, but on your body it only takes up two. Hats, scarves, etc I don't even bother counting.

By the by - all the bags and belts below weight nothing if worn and are one encumbering item if carried. So no infinite bags in bags, but this way I'm also not a jerk. New characters get two of these things for free because see the above line.

Hands - 2 Slots

You're using these! Right now! How exciting. However, only list something here if you are literally ALWAYS CARRYING IT. That saber, for example, will prolly spend most of it's time in its sheathe. If you tell me you're fooling around with a lock, and suddenly monsters come, I WILL make you spend a turn picking your damn sword up.

Belt - 2 Slots & Bandolier - 3 Slots

Items in these containers are immediately accessible: as long as you have an open hand, you can grab whatever you want. So you should keep a free hand open. If you have 10 different things in here that are non-encumbering I suppose that makes you batman.

If you get smacked around, these items are the first to go. I'll probably start rolling randomly to see what breaks.

Sling Bag - 4 Slots

A sling bag takes a turn to rummage through to find whatever you need.

Back Pack - 6 Slots

If you want to take something out, you need to straight up take it off. And THEN you need to look through it. So that's two combat turns, as opposed to everything else.

Big Sack - 8 Slots+

Giant sacks carry a lot of stuff, but you need to drag them around with your hands.

Other - ? Slots

Maybe you carry your bow strung across your torso. Maybe you have boot daggers. As long as it makes real world sense, that's awesome. Write it down mate.

None of this shit is terribly original. I am indebted to more people than I can know. Literally: the OSR is just one incestuous orgy, and sometimes you end up with this thing on your hands and you don't know which dude it's from or who's done what to it.

But it was playing in Cole's game that inspired me to write this, so you could call him the father.

Ramhknali Armor - A Summary

So after last Thursday's game, a player asks me,

"can you re send me the armor stuff and the other stuff again? when i got booted from the call, I lost all the info in the chat

make the group and add use ot it"

Which I preceded to spend entirely too much time on. Hooray for over-complicated armor rules! Here, have a reference table.

A note: This list is sorted by which of the city's many factions wears this type of armor. Strangers assume you belong to this faction if you walk around in their stuff; dress accordingly. Your costume will only pass a brief inspection by insiders, so don't push your luck!

And seriously, the blowfish cap is cheap because it makes you look ridiculous. Wearing a war mask is proof positive you're about to commit a crime. See this as of yet unwritten post for explanations and pretty pictures.

Armor	AC	Section	Weight	Cost1
Round Shield2	+2	Shield	1	110
Buckler3	+1	Shield	0	360
		Accounting Corps
Reinforced Kepi	+1	Head	1	200
Tarleton Kepi	+1	Head	1	300
Veiled Helm	+1	Head	1	200
Coat of Laws	+2	Torso	0	NFS4
Coat of Nails	+5	Body	3	1500
		Native Ramhknali
War Turban	+1	Head	1	200
Great Coat	+2	Body	2	60
Coffin Shield5	+2	Shield	2	150
		Zhang Hese
War Mask	+1	Head	1	100
Samurai Yoroi	+4	Body	2	2000
		Captanate Soldiers
Fish Helm	+1	Head	1	175
Coat of Scales	+3	Body	2	700
		Rural Buyani
Blowfish Cap	+1	Head	1	120
Coconut Shell Lamellar	+2	Torso	1	500
		Looters in Law
Mirmillo	+1	Head	1	200
Skull Helm	+1	Head	1	200
Trellised bascinet	+1	Head	1	200
Cheap Ass Chain6	+2	Torso	0	100
War Belt(s)7	+1	Torso	1	200
He-Man Harness7	+1	Torso	1	200
Spiked Ocrea (Greaves)8	+1	Legs	2	200
Calvary Boots	+1	Legs	1	200
Skirt of Nails	+1	Legs	1	200
Manica (Arm Guard)	+1	Arms	1	200
Splinted Vambraces	+1	Arms	1	200
Gauntlets9	+0	Arms	0	200

1. In iron pieces: Ramhknali currency is weird. In other settings use your own standard.

 
2. Shields can be splintered. Before taking damage you may declare your shield absorbs it, for the price of shattering into so many useless boards.

3. It's so small it leaves the hand free. Can't be splintered since it's a hunk of metal.

 
4. Not For Sale. Not even on the black market. The black market, incidentally, is why some of these prices are so high. The Captanate and the Accounting Corp do not generally sell to civilians, but the occasionally corrupt quartermaster certainly does.

 
5. +4 AC vs. missiles. Can also be splintered.

 
6. It's pretty shit. If you smack it for max damage, it goes down to +1AC. Costs 20 IP to repair.

 
7. You can wear both together.

 
8. Big spikes! Anyone who engages in melee you roll a 1d12 against. On a 12, you deal 1d4 damage.

 
9. +1 punching damage, fuck yeah!

Section

This column tells you what the armor covers. A lot of armor protects the entire body; you may wear a helm and shield and that's it. Other armor covers the torso, arms and legs individually. Mix and match to your heart's content. You can overlap pieces but the AC doesn't stack

Weight

How many significant items this weights. Armor is heavy, but its bulk is distributed across your body. If you're not currently wearing the armor, the weight doubles, with 0's increasing to 1. Hopefully you will never need that rule.

Athletics Penalty

The athletics penalty, or AP, reflects a sad reality: you ain't doing any sick ninja flips in 30 pounds of metal. Any time climb a wall, flee a boar, or lift a bolder (or most any STR, DEX and CON checks out of combat), add your sum AP to the roll. And of course, swimming is right out.

P.S. Knives in grabby melee range ignore AC from armor. So do war hammers, cannons, etc.

Buckler, War Turban and a Coat of Nails. He's got 99 problems but low AC ain't one.