A Short Stay in Niv Lova

The Life of Severn

Photo by Yves Alarie on Unsplash

Name: Severn

Stats: MUScle +0, FINesse +2, VIGor +1, MINd +1, PREsence +0

Background: BORN → Born on the edge, just outside the boundary, on a crappy farm.

Goal: UNCOVER → Got sick of the monotony, crossed the fence into Niv Lova. Want to find what’s at the Center.

Notes: Took my old man’s shotgun.

HP: 7

Gear: 20C, Backpack, Bedroll, d6 bandages (4), d6 Food (3), Sawed-Off Shotgun d6, 7 rounds of ammo

Skills: Specialized (Basic Guns, roll attack w/advantage)

Start: Severn is heading to an Abandoned Urban Area. It’s 2 Hexes away, to the NW.

---

Severn raised a hand over his face to block the rain. It wasn’t a drizzle, but he was thankful it wasn’t a downpour either. It did mean it would take longer to get where he was going though, some abandoned buildings that he was hoping held something worth scavenging.

The cold tundra slipped by as he walked. He found nothing and saw nobody, but unfortunately, as the day passed on, he realized he was lost. He huddled on the ground in his bedroll, eating cold beans straight out of a can. He struggled to fall asleep but finally drifted off.

In the early hours before sunrise, he awoke to a tongue lapping his face. Opening his eyes, a mutated dog licked his face. He rolled over and got up, finding himself surrounded by five of them. They head lean bodies, dirty fur but looked at him with smiles and tails wagging. They made to leave and then looked back at Severn. Hesitantly, loading his shotgun and holding onto it, he followed them.

They brought him to a pile of dirt that had been disturbed a long time ago. A quick shovel with his hands found a pack full of d6 Food (5). Finding some jerky, he passed it out among the dogs and they took off into the distance.

Severn shrugged. “The zone provides, I guess?” he said to himself, as the sun started to rise. He moved on.

The rain let up but was replaced by an extremely dense fog. Severn couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him. He lost his footing and fell down an embankment (-3HP. 4 remaining). He found that he’d cut his arm open on the fall and used a bandage to stop the bleeding. He camped for the night, still lost, and ate a can of corn. (-1 Food. 5 left). The night passed uneventfully.

In the morning, he replaced the bandage in an attempt to make himself feel better. (Failed Heal roll. Heal 1+VIG = 2. HP = 6).

At least the fog cleared, he thought to himself, looking up at the sky, a few clouds encroaching the pale blue above. With mostly clear skies, Severn managed to reorient himself in the right direction and press on. In the distance, he saw a settlement.

It was a compound with hundreds of people having reclaimed most of an abandoned town. Citizens lived in floors of houses and office buildings, making the most out of the structures that had lain abandoned since the Incident. The name of the settlement, Lansk, was scrawled in graffiti across the wall of a warehouse on the outskirts.

Severn made his way through the compound, as those within gave him looks, called out their wares, or simply pushed past. He looked at what was for sale. He figured he could use matches, a cookpot, and maybe a knife. He wouldn’t mind having a couple more bandages either. He bought a pack(d6=3) of matches for 3c, a Cookpot for 3c, a knife for 4c, and a couple bandages for 8c. He had 2c left over, but at least he’d be able to make a meal, had something other than his shotgun to use in a fight, and some more bandages. As he bartered, he talked, learning that the town was controlled by an elected council and that as a whole, the settlement was relatively stable. He also heard a rumor of a nearby Remnant somewhere in the North, of which he took note. Remnants were powerful and strange objects, left behind and twisted after the Incident. They could be dangerous, powerful and most importantly to most, lucrative.

He asked around about where he was headed, the abandoned buildings he was hoping to check out. Some folks knew about it, and the direction it was, but that was the extent.

One figure introduced himself as Lev, an outcast, he wore scavenged-together leather and rags, and he had a calculating look. “You, you want to help me out?”

Severn shrugged. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”

“I want to be something, out here, you understand? I want to be somebody important. I want a legacy.”

Severn shouldered his pack and looked off in the distance. “And how exactly can I help you with that?”

“I need something that makes me important. I’m thinking, a powerful Remnant. You find something like that, you bring it to me, you’ll be well-rewarded.”

Severn nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Lev offered Severn a cot in his shack on the outskirts of town and Severn accepted.

---

The next morning, Severn meant to leave Lansk, but a heavy storm rolled in, rain, thunder and lightning pounding the area. He stayed holed up with Lev as they rode out the storm. He took off his bandage and noticed the wound had mostly healed. (Failed Heal roll. Heal 1+VIG, back to 7)

“You been in Niv Lova long?” Lansk asked.

Severn shrugged. “All my life, just on the Boundary. My father has a farm.”

Lev chuckled. “I’m curious, what the hell grows on the edge of the zones?”

“Same as anywhere else, mostly. Just looks a little different. Malformed, misshapen, odd colors. Taste might be off but I wouldn’t know, would I?” Severn looked out the window at the downpour. “What about you?”

Lev smoked a cigarette, looking at the ceiling. “I was a criminal. I stole shit. Whatever I could get my hands on. Problem was, I kept getting caught. Finally, I got sent up here. That was…5 years ago.”

“Five years..Got any advice?” Severn asked, looking at Lev.

“Lev smirked and shook his head. “Go back to the farm.”

---

The next day, the clouds had parted, and Severn left Lansk behind, the settlement’s citizens beginning to check the damage from the storm. The sky was clear, the air crisp and chilly, the pale sun rising into the sky.

Severn headed north west. During his stay, his food had run down (3 remaining) so he decided to scavenge. It wouldn’t hurt to find some Junk as well, in case he needed to break or craft something. He found a small stash stored in the hollow trunk of a dead tree, a few cans of food (+3, 6) and a couple metal odds and ends (+2 Junk). A good haul.

He kept moving. The day passed pleasantly and uneventfully. Gray dirt crunched under his boots, patches of grass grew here or there, a dead tree spotted the landscape but other than that, nothing. It was nice and quiet.

That night, he gathered some sticks and dead brush, using a match (2 left) to get a fire going. He placed the cookpot over it, dumping a can of soup into the bottom (5 Food left). The smell was tantalizing. He wondered when the last time he had a hot meal was, probably the night before he left home. He wondered what his father was up to for a moment, before shaking his head. He ate the stew and went to sleep, feeling warm and satiated.

He woke to a movement nearby. Sitting up, he found half a dozen soldiers approaching him, in uniform, guns held at the ready.

“Hands where we can see em!” a voice called out.

Severn showed his hands.

They came closer, difficult to see any details in the moonlight, the fire down to embers.

“What the hell you doin’ out here?” the voice asked, gruff and angry.

“Just a scavenger looking for gear, that’s all. I just came from the settlement, Lansk,” he said. What else would he be, out here alone?

Roll PRE: 2d6+0 = 10 → Success

One of the soldiers went through his pack, pulling out his things, tossing them on the ground. “Alright, alright,” the voice said. “Leave him be. We have reports of something out here, attacking and scaring folks. We’re patrolling the area. As you were.” The leader turned to the men. “Move out,” he said, and the soldiers moved on.

Severn let out a breath, waiting for a minute before putting his stuff back into his pack and laying back down to sleep.

---

The morning was cloudy but at least the rain continued to hold off.

Severn took advantage of the decent weather, making good time across the tundra, until he spied the abandoned buildings ahead.

The town had been decimated by the incident, almost every structure pulverized or smashed, except for two worth taking a look at.

There was a mall off main street that looked relatively solid, as well as a manufacturing plant on the other side of town.

Severn decided he’d start off with the mall. He found a jagged hole in the wall of one of the mall stores and entered that way. The store held racks and racks of old, moth-eaten clothing. Moving through, he found himself feeling strange and sickly but was able to shake it off. He checked the store for anything worth salvaging.

Hazard: Radiation. Roll 2d6+VIG = 10 → Success

Scour → Rarity: 2d6 = 8 → Uncommon.

Uncommon: 3d6 = 12 → Police Baton

He found the corpse of a policeman in the corner, long-since dead, body armor shredded, but baton held in his hand. Severn took it. It’d be more useful in a fight than his knife.

He found the entrance from the store into the rest of the mall but the roof had collapsed here, completely blocking it off. He left the store and walked around the perimeter of the mall, looking for another way in. He found a large enough vent but unfortunately didn’t have the strength to pull it out. He kept looking, feeling frustrated.

Finally, he found another hole he could climb through, that led into the mall corridor. He strode down, past a variety of stores, most with the chain walls down.

It was there, walking down the mall, he came across his first aberration.

Type: Rupture, Range: Close, Intensity: Low

He stopped walking, feeling something, a vibration maybe, in the air. Staring intently in front of him, he could see the air itself, moving, shifting, ever-so-slightly. He gulped. He’d heard about this type. ‘Rupture’, it was called. There was no getting through it without pain. No avoiding it.

He could just turn around, go back out, but…within Aberrations there were often Remnants. Scanning the area, he saw, maybe ten feet ahead of him, a strange object on the ground he hadn’t noticed before. If he could just make it through, he could get it.

“Fuck it,” he whispered and moved forward.

(d6/d = 1dmg. HP = 6)

The air twisted and pushed against him. He felt something rip at his arm, slicing it open, he hurried forward falling and reaching for the remnant. He picked it up and kept moving, leaving the Aberration, the air spinning and twirling behind him. Once free, he took a seat on a mall bench and contemplated the remnant in his hands.

Strength of remnant: d6 = 6 → Strong

Qualities: Moving, large, rectangular, rubber

It was large and rectangular, a little bigger than a basketball. It was made of rubber, and a deep black color. The more he looked at it, the more it looked like it was moving, swirling, captivating. Underneath his hands, he could feel it subtly shifting, constantly. He set it down, feeling unnerved.

After taking a breath, he picked it back up, turning it over and looking at it, trying to determine how it might be activated.

2d6+MIN(0) = 8 → Success

He noticed if he thought about, and concentrated, something started to happen, the remnant would begin to activate. “What the hell,” he muttered, holding the box and concentrating. Sweat dripped down his brow, until a burst of electricity emerged from the box, spreading out along the ground, sizzling and crackling across the entire floor of the mall corridor. He scrambled onto the mall bench as the electricity continued to spread, crackle and sizzle for a little over a minute. He could feel the force of the electricity in the air and knew if he stepped down into it, he’d be electrified and likely killed.

Once it died down, he noticed he’d been holding his breath and let it out, gulping in air. His hands, still holding the box, were shaking. “I’ll call you the Electrifier,” he said. He gingerly stepped down, flinching when his foot touched the floor, but nothing happened. He carefully strapped the black box to his pack and slid the pack onto his shoulders. He held his shotgun in his hand and moved forward. He would rather not use The Electrifier unless he had to.

He noticed he was still bleeding from the Aberration and wrapped a bandage around his arm. (3 bandages left)

The corridor turned and as Severn stepped around the corner, he spotted a figure ahead, in the shadows. Then it was gone. He scanned the area, not moving, but he couldn’t see it.

Foe → Skulk

Reaction w/disadvantage: 8

A movement in the air, a growl to his left. Before he could bring his shotgun to bear, it was there, next him, a pale humanoid figure with a mouth of sharp, jagged teeth and arms that ended in sharp, vicious claws.

As he swung around, it disappeared again, invisible. He circled, looking for it.

It appeared down the corridor, leaping through a window and leaving.

Severn let his breath out, watching where it’d gone for a minute, making sure it wasn’t coming back. He’d heard of such things, mutants called Skulks or Lurkers, who could turn invisible. He was lucky it hadn’t attacked. He scoured the area, looking for anything useful.

Scour → Rarity: 2d6 = 12 → Rare

Rare: 2d6 = 9 → SMG (broken)

He found an SMG under some rubble, a bit scuffed up but, with the right parts, he could fix it. He stashed it into his pack.

The rest of the mall was either impossible to navigate or simply already looted so he left, noticing the sun hanging low.

He found a little room in a department store, in the back to camp out for their night. He didn’t bother with a fire and ate a can of tuna, cold, not wanting to draw any attention. (5 Food left).

The night passed uneventfully.

In the morning, he packed up, checked the bandage, (Heal 1 HP, back at 7) and left the department store behind, heading for other potential salvaging location in the town, the manufacturing plant.

As he got closer, he noticed a pile of rubble leading up to a second floor window, which had been smashed long ago. He climbed up and into the plant, finding himself in an overseer’s office.

Inside, he found three figures huddled around a strange symbol painted on the floor in blood. The figures turned to face him as he entered. They were thin and pale, dressed in rags.

Reaction w/disadvantage: 4 → Angered/Hostile

They raised their weapons, improvised pieces of wood or metal and growled at Severn.

Severn raised his shotgun.

Initiative: d6 + FIN = 8 vs 4 → Severn goes first.

HP = 5, 2, 5

He shoots the closest one.

Roll 2d6+FIN w/advantage: 3d6k2h = 11 → Success.

d6 DMG = 5.

One blast takes out the first fanatic, dropping him to the ground. The others surge forward, swinging.

Defend: 2d6 + FIN(2) = 10 → Success

Defend: 10 → Success

Severn dodged a swing from the first fanatic and shoved him back. The other, a woman with greasy hair surged forward, swung a 2x4 at his head. He ducked, racking another shell into the chamber and firing.

Attack→ 2d6+FIN w/advantage: 3d6k2h = 10 → Success

DMG = 2.

The shell catches the woman in the gut and she collapses.

The remaining fanatic shrieks and swings again.

Defend → 2d6+FIN = 12 → Success

Severn knocked the piece of metal away with the butt of his shotgun. He dropped the empty gun and drew his baton.

Attack → 2d6+MUS: 7 vs 8 → Failure

Defend → 5 → Failure. d6/d = 2dmg. 5 left

The fanatic knocked the baton away and smacked Severn in the face, knocking him stumbling back. He wiped blood from his mouth and attacked.

Attack → 1,1 → Critical Failure.

Severn missed and the baton slipped from his fingers, clattering across the floor.

Defend → 5 → Failure. Take 4 DMG. 1 HP left

Jagged metal cut across Severn’s stomach. He backed away, drawing his knife and throwing it.

Attack → 10. D6/d = 3,2 → Fate Point → 3,2 → 2 DMG. 3 left.

The knife sank into the man’s shoulder. He barely noticed, his eyes enraged. He charged.

Defend → 1,1 → Critical Failure = Enemy doubles damage dice.

d6/d = 3,4. d6/d = 5,3. 3 + 3 = 6 DMG.

Severn drops to -5. Rolls 2d6 + VIG - 5(HP below 0) = 1 → Failure.

Roll on Wounds Table. 2d6 + VIG - 5 = 3 → Fatal Wound. Die in d6 rounds. d6 = 5 rounds.

Without a weapon, the fanatic drove the sharp end of his metal deep into Severn’s gut. Severn stumbled back and fell on his side.

The fanatic breathed deeply.

Severn scrambled over the floor and picked up the baton, one hand holding his gut. If he was going to go out, he was going to take this piece of shit with him. “Come on,” he growled.

The man smiled and came at him.

Defend → 12 → Success.

4 rounds left until death.

Attack → 7 → Miss.

Defend → 13 → Success

3 rounds left until death.

Severn batted the man’s hand aside and swung at him, but the fanatic was quick, stepping back. The man charged again, and Severn juked to the side, dodging the blow.

Severn could feel blood seeping out of his gut as he tried to hold his insides in with one hand and fight with the other.

Attack → 7 → Miss

Defend → 12 → Success

2 rounds left

A feint, a miss, a block, neither gained the advantage. Severn knew he didn’t have much time left and charged.

Attack → 7 → Miss

Defend → 9 → Success

1 round left

The fanatic backed away, dodging Severn’s clumsy attack, before moving forward with his own attack, which Severn blocked away.

Severn noticed his vision going dim, there was blood pouring out of his stomach. This was his last chance. He gave it everything he had, yelling and leaping forward.

Attack → 4 → Miss

Defend → 10 - Success

The fanatic side-stepped with ease, bringing down his weapon from above.

Severn managed to turn and knock it away.

The baton dropped from his hand and he fell to his knees.

He took a couple last, shuddering breaths before collapsing onto his side.

Why did I leave the farm?

---

Olmak breathed in and out, in the sudden silence, watching the corpse.

With a grunt, he pulled the knife out of his shoulder and used a bandage to patch himself up. He made a quick prayer for his fallen fellow believers, “You are with the zone now, be at peace in whatever follows this life.” He went through the stranger’s things, opening the pack. He pulled out a large rectangular box, made of rubber and seemed to move or vibrate as he held it. He gently placed it on the floor and knelt before it.

It was clearly a Remnant, a powerful one.

He thanked the zone, for bringing this stranger here, for bringing this holy relic to him. He bowed, touching his forehead to the floor, praying to the zone.

The zone was proof there was a supernatural force, a being, a God.

The zone was all.

Photo by Oleksandra Bardash on Unsplash

I really should have reloaded instead of switching to melee…

Thanks for reading this. It was generated completely through the dice rolls, prompts and results from my upcoming game, Niv Lova, a system heavily adapted/inspired from Kal Arath, by Castle Grief and a setting inspired by Roadside Picnic, the Stalker film, and the Stalker video games.

I hope you enjoyed and I apologize for the lack of updates.

What’s next? Who knows! I’m open to suggestions.

Thanks to Andrew Wylde, BuddhaRandom, Eric, and

Tom Cook

for being paid subscribers.

Thanks for reading!

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Check out the Table of Contents for previous games I’ve played as well as other stuff I’ve written.