OSR City Challenge: a fake settlement and a real one

Disclaimer: this post is part of the GLOG city challenge, courtesy of Mother. It borrows extensively from other sources, such as Patrick Stuart's Anglerlich, BBC documentaries and, as I've found out fifteen minutes ago, the manga Gigantomachia. It couldn't be helped, deep sea fish deserve all this love and more.


Other entries:
Of Slugs and Silver
Alone in the Labyrinth

Words for Yellow 


It looks unremarkable from a distance, no more than a meager collection of crooked shacks, if it weren’t for the lights. Tall, slender street lamps, gently swaying in the wind, casting a warm light. They seem to beckon weary travellers, telling them where to find shelter for the night.

As you approach, the village begins to take shape. There’s people walking around and smell of cooked food coming from the houses. Climbing plants are wrappened around each building, heavy with flowers and translucent, round fruits.

You need to be really close to realize something’s off. The houses have almost no openings and look like they’re made of hardened wax, the fruits are dimly pulsing and all the people you thought you saw are gone. It is because, by now, they have already surrounded you. 
 They vaguely resemble shriveled humans, with small heads and big, fanged mouths. Each one of them is connected to a thick umbilical cord, which all converge at the center of the village, disappearing underground.

Some of you will be eaten almost immediately. The less fortunate will be stored alive until the eggs hatch.

This, of course, is just a bedtime story.

Even though they’re not mindless, Angler Mothers have been hunted for generations and their number dwindled significantly. The surviving ones fled away to less inhabited lands, where unsuspecting preys could still be found.

Among them, however, there’s one who decided to adapt.

                                                   

                       THE ANGLER GRAND-MOTHER

Not exactly what I was thinking about, but this is nice too (art by Dominic Qwek)

 Wise with age and tired of having to fend off hunters all the time, she moved closer to the steppe, where settlements are few and far from each other. In exchange for food and protection, she now provides safe passage through inhospitable lands. She swims in the ground as if it were water. Once in a month she embarks on a longer journey, crossing the desert to collect traveler and merchants from farther lands.

HOW DOES IT WORK

The Angler Grand-Mother is many times bigger than any other member of her species, thus allowing the construction of a full-fledged village on top of her. Many of the buildings are actually made out of brick and mortar but some of the “fake houses” (which actually contain lung-like organs) have also been retrofitted to host people. As long as she doesn’t move her appearance is that of a village built on a series of uneven mounds, her fins barely visible to the untrained eye. Her fishing rods dot the settlement, lighting it at night. They also double as sensory organs.

The males, who are slightly smarter than a human child, are tasked with day-to-day management. They are all dressed like butlers, in a somewhat naive but honest attempt at putting visitors at ease. They’re all linked to the Grand-Mother by a umbilical cord which they try to carry discreetely, whose functions consists in supplying food and sperm, also allowing her to give orders. Since the Grand-Mother is no longer interested in reproduction, they now only use it for the former.

It is not mandatory, even though strongly advisable, to bring a gift while first entering the village; the Grand-Mother is mainly interested in food (a chicken will suffice) but will grudgingly accept money and other riches. She has taken an interest in collecting small fish as pets. Bring her one and she might even be willing to speak with you, lowering one of her appendices and allowing you to stare into the light up close. Be warned, though: she's cranky and has very little patience.

The Grand-Mother only travels at night, always at a comfortable pace. She usually follows predetermined routes but will deviate to collect lost travellers. There are metal rods stuck in the ground troughtout the steppe: make one of them vibrate long enough and she will come to pick you up. Those who cannot pay the rescue fee are usually conscripted into her entourage for variable amounts of time.

NOTABLE NPCs

Bartimeus Landerberg: Garden Wizard, owns a greenhouse. Has almost succeeded in weaponizing cacti. Wants to kill the Grand-Mother and use her corpse as fertilizer. When in danger he turns into a tumbleweed and rolls away, already plotting his comeback.

Sofronisba Lossia:  adorable old lady, runs a small emporium. It’s actually haunted by her own mortality and would pay handsomely for a bottle of Grand-Mother’s blood, which she believes to be an elixir of longevity. She’s right, by the way.

Heatstroke: saved from the brink of death by the Grand-Mother, has suffered extensive brain damage due to excessive sun exposure. Thinks of the Grand-Mother as a goddess and of herself as a prophet. Desperate for a sign.

HEARSAY

So far, no city has been able to convince the Grand-Mother to join their army. Succeeding to do so would dramatically shift the power balance in the region. But what might such a old creature desire? Some say that her two last daughters still dwell in the deepest reaches of the desert, half as small but twice as vicious. If that’s true, maybe she also has granddaughters, every grandma’s soft spot.

The males are not compelled to follow the Grand-Mother’s wishes. She speaks to them in a language made of lights, hums and vibrations and they usually obey out of worship and fear. The word is that the smartest among them are starting to come together, seeking to overthrow her.

A group of Goblins, escaped from a slave pit, somehow found a intact desert ship, renamed themselves The Hearty Crew and have been following the Grand-Mother ever since. They’re about to run out of supplies (the plumpest among them) and are eager to launch a full-scale attack. The Grand-Mother, on the other hand, thinks of them as nothing more than a nuisance.