D&D 5E Gothic Horror In The Rain

MortalPlague

Adventurer
**UPDATE** I have the setting roughly fleshed out, and I've presented the campaign guide to my players. They've come back with some terrific character concepts. More on page three here:
http://www.enworld.org/forum/showth...e-Rain/page3&p=6138264&viewfull=1#post6138264

**END OF UPDATE**

I'm going to be kicking off another playtest campaign in a few weeks. My previous campaign ( http://www.enworld.org/forum/showthread.php?332320-Playtest-Campaign-Second-Session-TPK ) was light on story and heavy on dungeon crawling. I'm looking to do something different this time around, something very thematic, and I've settled on Gothic Horror. I'm looking to films like Sleepy Hollow for inspiration. Here's my pitch:

Ten years ago, it started raining. It hasn't stopped.

The people of this town have learned to adapt. They grow rice and mushrooms now, and raise pigs and chickens. They wear long coats and leather boots, and wide-brimmed hats. Wooden covers have been built over the major walkways. But the rain persists. Some days, only a light trickle falls from the ever-present clouds. Other days it's a torrential downpour. Ditches line every street, many of them five or six feet deep. The river drinks enough water to prevent an actual flood, but it's rare to find a patch of earth not turned to mud.

Why don't people leave? Some have. But creatures move in the woods these days, and many carriages and wagons have been found shattered, ripped open, and bloody on the side of the road. Many more have simply vanished without a trace. There are precious few who brave the roads between the local towns, which are only a day's ride apart. But reaching beyond the rain? That's a week's travel, and few dare attempt the journey.

Even before the rains, this was a land the gods had forsaken. While wizards often ply their arcane craft, divine magic is nigh unheard of, the stuff of myth and fable. Wizards are a part of life, helping to build and maintain structures in this place. They are valued members of the community. It is not uncommon for academics to arrive, seeking to unravel the mystery of the eternal downpour. Most leave disappointed. Some remain, hoping their perseverance will be rewarded.

Divine magic can be disguised as arcane, so long as components are used. But everybody knows that mending the body through magic is witchcraft. And witches are dangerous.



As you can see, there's a lot of theme and flavor here already. I have some plans to use the rain to affect mechanics, but chiefly, I want to make this a memorable setting for a campaign. I want my players to feel the weary determination of the townsfolk, the ever-present gloom of the downpour, the terror of the unknown that lurks in the woods. I really want this place to come alive!

So I'm posting this here to generate some discussion. What would be some consequences of constant rain for 10 years? I've already considered that the crops would have to change, that coverings would be put up over the main walkways, and the fashion changes. Are there things I'm missing or overlooking?


Other Details:

I'm going to put an abandoned dwarven ruin beneath the town. One reason the drainage is so effective is that a large amount of water spills into the ruins and vanishes deep into the earth. The imagery of a dwarven ruin with waterfalls pouring down through it makes for a very compelling dungeon for future exploration.

I want to avoid turning this area into an everglades-type swamp. I want to keep things set in an evergreen / deciduous woods that's simply been poured upon for years. So there haven't been huge changes in the local fauna; no crocodiles or the like, for instance.

I haven't quite figured out what caused the rain yet. Currently, I'm operating on the idea that it's a long-standing curse, but if anyone's got a really creative idea, I'd love to hear it. Other ideas I've discarded is that it's a mad composer who needs the rain to finish his grand masterpiece, or it was a defense mechanism by a wizard to allow him to fight invisible creatures.

I'm torn on whether or not the PCs will wind up fixing the rain. On one hand, that would be a suitably world-altering thing for heroes to do. On the other hand, it feels a bit trite to have them come along and solve the big problem that's been eluding people for years. Either way, it wouldn't happen till at least 6th level or so.

I play to have the rain come into play mechanically. There will be creatures who heal while they're in the rain. Will the characters risk luring the beast indoors to dispatch it easier? There will be plenty of difficult terrain and loosened terrain (trees and rocks). And of course, in the heavier downpours, there will be limited visibility.

That's it so far. Thoughts?
 
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I really like your premise, there's a lot of atmosphere, mystery and potential for the players to become more and more fed up with the rain themselves. Some practical thoughts now. Constant rain has to constantly go somewhere, and even with drainage ditches, I would expect any nearby river to grow in size, or a new one to form. I guess early in the rain curse the area suffered terrible floods and then people began to adapt, but many structures could have been washed away or buried in feet of mud. Depending on the available technologies and local soil, buildings might be on stilts - I'm thinking something like Venice effectively, with boat travel within the town rising to prominence. Depending on climate, keeping warm would be another challenge - every building would need a fire, and there would need to be a wood-drying industry if there isn't something else to burn. Fungus and rice are good water-heavy crops, but other nutrition would be needed, so either tropical fruit if warm, or berries if cold. Surely also fish farming is an option? A warm climate would allow for many insects, both an annoyance and potential source of food.

I was thinking when you described the constant rain at first, that perhaps there's a breach between the planes involved. Some experiment gone wrong, or evil scheme has left the area connected with the plane of water. The solution could be dismantling a device, or performing a ritual to close the breach, or even travelling to the plane to close it there.
 

When I ran the Carrion Crown campaign for the first adventure and the pre-adventures I wrote, I used rain to great effect. I wanted the nation of Ustalav to be dreary and miserable place. When I used to run Warhammer FRP I did the same thing.
 

Temperate Rainforest.

Not warm, but rains nearly every day.

Even rice might be hard to grow in this climate (it does better in warmer, swampier areas).

But trees will love it. And frogs and reptiles and insects (at least during the warmer months). The forest isn't just dangerous, it's expanding. Trees are getting big...light is at a premium, so perhaps carnivorous plants do better. A lot of swamp species would work well here -- flytraps and pitcher plants and the like. Also, assassin vines and shambling mounds and the like.

Ground is weathered, heavily. Everything turns to mud and is washed away.

You might want to vary the intensity of the rain to get some variety. Sometimes, it's only a light mist. Sometimes, it's a roaring storm.
 

[MENTION=62721]MortalPlague[/MENTION] I've got two ideas, one riffing off your "healing magic is witchcraft" and the other off of the fey vibe the eternal rain lends itself to.

Your setting has distrust of divine magic, especially healing magic. That's unusual, particularly because people are distrustful of what is clearly beneficent, rather than something clearly for killing like a fireball. Something terrible must have happened. Maybe there was a cleric who fulfills the role of a Dr. Frankenstein? Perhaps the cleric's beloved contracted a plague which began disfiguring them,so the cleric kept them alive (and looking pretty) by healing them. Unfortunately the cleric did not have magic strong enough to cure the plague, only abate its obvious signs. Thus the cleric's beloved became a carrier of plague and infected much of the town. Eventually the townsfolk realized the truth (or a version of it) and took the cleric's beloved to be burned at the stake. Then they raised a mob and went after the cleric in his temple-manor. The rain is the tears of the cleric's god which will fall until the ghosts of the cleric and beloved are put to rest and the the townsfolk prove they've changed their ways.

Eternal rainfall feels very fey to me, and I think shadow fey make excellent (unexpected) gothic horror monsters. Maybe the laws of healing magic are warped in this realm, such that any healing causes another to karmically take the same wound that was just "healed"? In other words, there's a law of conservation of hit points in effect. It's the shadow fey of course. The rain, then, is the result of humans causing something to go bone dry...perhaps an aquifer human mining punctured and drained? Or once damp moors humans dredged for agricultural lands? Perhaps a 100-year flood plain that became salt flats after a human dam checked the river? This caused the death of several aquatic fey like nixies, naiads, vodniks, etc. The survivors entreated the King of the Fairies or an equivalent figure who lay down the curse: "The humans of this realm will neither create nor destroy anything. They shall have their water - one hundred years of rain - for what they've done."

Some other thoughts:

Encounter tables change with severity of rain. For example, there is something that hunts with the rain like a mooncalf, scrag troll, or freshwater lacedon ghoul.

Moors can be part of Nature's system for absorbing heavy precipitation in a temperate forest environment like you describe. Plus, moors are gothic genre appropriate. Having will'o wisps, buried treasure, and secret meetings on the moors should get the players interested.

Harnessing rain power should be a viable option for an enterprising NPC...it could be as simple as a series of waterwheels...or as complex as magical Pelton wheels.

A rain shaman/rain doctor claims to be able to reduce the rain to a mere trickle, and has fleeced several villages of all their gold with this ruse.
 
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Speaking as a GM for a group that just went through several levels worth of rain, they were very glad when they finally cleared it up.

Business
I'd include a lot of net- and trap-fishing along with the lichen and mushrooms. If you like a little Lovecraft in your Gothic Horror, fishermen praying to dark powers can quickly lead to cultists and interbreeding with the god's servants.

I'm not sure how well rice would do, but your players probably won't either. Cranberries are another good plant in boggy conditions. You'd have to stretch things for peat (it regenerates pretty slowly), but it would solve any fuel problems they might have.

Adventure
The dwarven ruins are a nice touch, I think, as are Kamakaze Midget's ideas about the forest. Giant carnivorous plants don't get nearly enough play and fungal monsters can exist outside the Underdark.

As for the cause, if you have cultists worshipping a dark god, that'd work out, but I'd use that more as a red herring.

How about, in the deepest levels of the dwarf fortress, there's a series of elemental gates that used to power their city and forges. They're supposed to be in balance, but it's been a long time. To stop the rain, you'd either need to find some way to rebalance them (by strengthening the other three gates) or destroy the whole contraption (swallowing the city and town above it into an earthquake).

The trick would be keeping that entire quest from being a dungeon crawl, but you can put the ritual and items needed out in the world. Like, an item tied to the earth gate might be in use at the biggest mushroom farm in town, making the challenge more about weighing options and roleplaying than necessarily dungeoncrawling.

Cheers!
Kinak
 

Oh man, just realized something: it will be dang frickin' impossible to start a fire, here.

Which means that anything < about 12 hours travel away (more in summer, less in winter) is going to involve slogging through pitch black starless torchless darkness.

....and with the eroded soil exposing the bodies in the graveyard...undead, man. An army of moist ghouls who haunt the long nights.
 




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