The Elmore, Vane, & Elmore Preserving Co.: A Victorian Dungeon Scenario (Part 1)

16 Sep, 2024

What follows is the first part of a dungeon scenario I ran and am now adapting for general audiences. Included in this part is an overview of the scenario, the factions involved, and encounters and the dungeon key for rooms 1–8.

London, 1878.

The Elmore, Vane, & Elmore Preserving Co. has achieved rapid success as a private contractor to the British Army and Royal Navy, providing industrial quantities of canned beef stew at competitive rates. As a loss leader, the company's low prices were to be expected, but three years have passed and it has neither raised its prices nor expanded its operations to the scale necessary to maintain them as they are. Elmore, Vane, & Elmore's secret is a gruesome one—its canned meats are ground human flesh and gristle, sourced from scavenged corpses dead of drowning or exposure.

Factions

The Elmore, Vane, & Elmore Preserving Co.

Brothers Dorian and John Elmore have long understood the greatest roadblock of a London-based cannery on the path to financial viability to be the exorbitant price of sourcing and transporting fresh meat. It was their friend Roger Vane that came up with a solution, albeit one that was facetious at the time. His fix? Local meat. A simple euphemism. They incorporated the next day.

The Elmore, Vane, & Elmore Preserving Co. is a modest operation in comparison to other industrial canneries in London and across the globe—after all, it cannot outgrow its supply, nor its relative obscurity. It sustains itself by charging low prices in comparison to its competitors and paying its workers enough for them to not pay close attention to what exactly is going in the cans they seal. In comparison to the brutal conditions imposed by other employers, who would not want to work for Elmore, Vane, & Elmore?

Albert Abercrombie is a heavyset Scotsman currently employed as the foreman of the cannery. He is a cruel man, more than willing to settle into lethargic relaxation bought with all that he knows of the company's illegal operation. His predecessor, another man that got too comfortable, felt the same way. Something Abercrombie does not know is that he ended up in a can.

The company wants all of this to continue for eternity. It has no dreams of expansion, nor does it plan for a future where its crimes are discovered. The status quo is perfect; surely it must last forever.

Martel & Co. Private Security

Charles Martel—a burly man, like a gorilla, and with a similar amount of hair—is a Londoner ex-policeman who quit after a decade of service to found his own private security company. He quickly put together a team of fellow ex-police. Three years ago he came into contact with the Elmore, Vane, & Elmore, newly incorporated and in need of both a security force and a competent fixer. The first problem to fix was the biggest one: how do they start harvesting local meat?

The first month was the hardest—scavenging corpses in alleys and killing vulnerable nobodies when that wasn't sufficient. Martel came upon the solution to his problem by chance one night, when he witnessed a hunched figure scurry up from the sewers: a ratman, he would soon discover. By the end of the second month, Charles Martel had forged a deal with the Rat King and production was in full swing. Ratmen would scavenge corpses (and sometimes collect a few more than could be scavenged) for the cannery in exchange for the supplies and cheap fineries needed to support his reign and lifestyle. A gilded oak tree rotting from the inside.

Charles Martel (3HD). A brute that relies on size and strength in close quarters, but is a surprisingly good shot. Has at least two guns on him at all times. Wants for this all to continue smoothly for now, but holds dreams close to his chest of expanding his operation beyond mucking about the sewers. If things get too hot, or if he is offered a better opportunity than the one he has now, he will cut any tie to get there. He would betray his own mother for an inch.

Martel security guard (2HD). Ex-policeman—thug accustomed to superior numbers and more lethal equipment. Hired by Charles Martel to shoot first and ask questions later. If they have a choice, encounters with them will always be lethal.

Ratmen

The sane ratmen of the London sewers are few, for they loathe themselves. None of them would beget another rat. Each and every one weeps for a life they can no longer have, taken from them in one quick bite.

There are thirty-four sane ratmen in the London sewers, divided into two factions: monarchists and clandestine revolutionaries.

The Rat King, he calls himself. A sorcerer of considerable power, Lord Henry Atwood was bit by the mother of rats five years ago. He organized the ratmen of the London sewers into the shape they are today—it was he that gathered those disparate enclaves that wish to remain men together and placed them in a single court. Lord Henry's special talent is in magical charms and mental domination, a skill that was a great aid in forming his kingdom. But, there were two popular ratmen that resisted his rule. So he enlisted the aid of another London magician, one that frequents the sewers by choice; Lord Henry placed his two rivals in a magically-sedated state, and the Doctor (see 14A) grafted them to Lord Henry, such that might never plot against him. Thus Lord Henry Atwood became the Rat King. Civilization is what separates men from the animals, and what the Rat King wants, more than anything, is to maintain the civilization that he has built. He has never felt more regal than in the partnership of Charles Martel. He contemplates killing the mother of rats in the hopes that that might lift his curse, but that dream, once all-consuming, seems a distant need at present. More often, he contemplates the need for a third body grafted to his own—Templeton—and watches the other ratman carefully. But not carefully enough.

Templeton is a conniving, charismatic ratman of low birth. He has not been a ratman for long, and he yearns to live under the sun once more. He has convinced three others to share his dreams. In a week, he will have convinced another. In a month, three others. In six months, he will attempt a coup against the Rat King, with the outward goal of renegotiating better terms with the Elmore, Vane, & Elmore Preserving Co., and the secret goal of blowing up the deal entirely. Without outside aid, he will fail and be grafted, his schemes twisted to serve only the Rat King's desires.

There is a third faction of ratmen, feared by both monarchists and revolutionaries. Not all ratmen are sane. Not all can resist the disease. Or is it a curse? Is it a lack of willpower or constitution that leads a man to debase himself, to crawl on all fours and mate with the mother of rats in Oedipal fashion?

Ratman (1HD). Wields a knife and carries a burlap sack, or a stretcher if in teams of two or more. Never a gun—the sewers are no place for a weapon that loud. Can squeeze into any space its head can fit. Will bite if cornered, infecting the target with innumerable diseases, one of them the curse of the rat. This is an act of mutual destruction—to bite is to take the first step on the path of the animal. Those already feral have no issue with debasing themselves further.

Encounters

Per turn or loud sound, roll a die. On a result of 1, roll on the relevant encounter table.

1–4: Cannery basement

No encounter table. See individual room keys.

5–7: Crypts

Locations

I don't want to pay for bearblog premium, so please view the DUNGEON MAP HERE.¹

When otherwise unmentioned, basements and crypts have plaster-over-brick walls with cement mortar and flagstone floors. Ceilings are eight feet high. Doors are made of wood banded with steel and swollen with moisture.

When otherwise unmentioned, sewer construction is of brick and cement mortar. Ceilings are barrel vaulted, eight feet tall at their highest point. Doors are made of rusting steel and open whichever way the players want. Bridges are arched, with enough clearance for a canoe or narrow barge to slip under were it unmanned or its passengers horizontal. Metal hooks meant to hold oil lanterns are spaced every fifty feet (unmapped), though from 8–27 they are empty more often than not (4-in-6 chance, with ratmen carrying lanterns themselves) and from 29–37 they are nearly always empty (5-in-6 chance) and always unlit. There are no railings at the edges of the walkways to prevent one from falling into the channels, but there is a two inch lip of brick overhanging the channels, built to prevent swimming rats from being able to reach solid ground. It does not inhibit ratmen in the slightest, rabid or not.

The water in the channels is almost stagnant, tinted a fecal brown in color and emitting a stench that pervades the area. Because of this opacity, the depth of the channels is impossible to gauge without the aid of a measuring stick or physical inspection; they are fairly uniform and six feet deep. Immersion in the channels near-guarantees exposure to cholera or worse.

1. Cannery basement

Originally the basement of an adjoining building that was long-ago demolished and replaced with slum houses, it now serves as a storage hub for the Elmore, Vane, & Elmore Preserving Co. cannery. Illumination comes in the form of a natural gas lighting system, controlled by a panel and knob on the western wall. Several crates of tin sheets and spools of lead solder, though the floor is mostly bare so as not to impede movement.

At the end of the western corridor is a metal ladder, welded to both the floor and the rim of a trapdoor on the ceiling, which leads to the cannery above (unmapped). Though not properly hidden on either side of the trapdoor, the trapdoor is located in a windowless room of the cannery.

The basement is nearly always busy. Roll two dice—the higher number is how many cannery employees are currently en route to or from 2 or 3, and the lower number is how many Martel security guards are currently patrolling (if more than three, consider it two patrols passing each other). Only if both dice show 1s will the basement be uninhabited, and only for a turn at most.

The south door is made of steel and kept locked, with keys held only by the foreman and Charles Martel. Employees know that the company has a butchery operation and that meat is delivered from the other side, but most assume only that it is acquired via smuggling to avoid tariffs or transit fines. None suspect the truth.

2. Storage closet

This closet is filled with crates of tin sheets and spools of lead solder. In the corner of the room, behind a wall of empty crates, is a nook that cannery employees have cleared. There is a 5–in–6 chance one or more cannery employees are present in the nook. If so, roll a die: 1–3: an employee is taking a nap; 4–5: an employee is doing drugs (roll another die: 1–2: cocaine, 3–4: laudanum, 5–6: cannabis); 6: some employees are having sex (roll a die and divide by two; a result of one means masturbation).

3. Cold room

The door to this room has been replaced with a steel one, beaded with condensation and cold to the touch. Inside, metal shelves hold industrial tubs of mincemeat, kept cool by stacked blocks of ice. Melted ice is replenished each day at ten a.m. by George Carter and Jack Fanning, icemen in the employ of the London Ice Works Company.

4. Crypts-turned-butchery

Despite its occupants' best effort, blood has seeped into the flagstones of this room, staining them a patchwork red. The air smells of charnel mixed with feces, a combination potent enough to make the unprepared retch. Metal tables line the south wall, an impressive array of butcher's knives sitting hanging from hooks drilled into the wall above. An industrial meat grinder sits in the middle of the room, waiting for its next meal.

Each morning the butchery crew arrives at five a.m. to process the day's catch and deliver it to 3 before the icemen arrive. The crew consists of ten young men, all recent migrants from the British East Indies, the British West Indies, British Guiana, the Cape Colony, China, Egypt, India, etc., and all with a sorry grasp of English. More than once a butcher proving himself to lack in either skill or secrecy has found himself in the grinder the next day. The company pays well in comparison to other opportunities—another will take his place. They are supervised by the foreman. Charles Martel does the killing.

Every morning from five to eight a.m., the butchery crew can be found here processing meat. From eight to nine a.m., they can be found here cleaning with mops and rags. Outside of the hours of five to nine a.m., this room is always empty.

4A. Barred tomb

The door to this tomb is barred shut by a heavy metal table turned on its side. A foul intelligence lurks within, biding its time. There is no coffin within the tomb. This was not its original place of rest. When the grinder is doing its work, no one can hear it scratching—fingernails worn away by friction, leaving bloody trails up and down. It will resort to teeth soon enough. Within a month the ghoul will break through the weakened door, slip around the table, and attack. The foreman will escape to 1 and lock the door behind him. The abandoned crew will be killed to a man and nibbled on, though they will not be fully eaten, as within the hour the ghoul will be slain by an armed force led by Charles Martel. It is not that he couldn't have done it before. A new butchery crew will be hired that same day, with eleven more bodies to process.

4B. Storage tombs

These tombs are identical and used as storage spaces for aprons, goggles, masks, gloves, and other equipment used by the butchery crew.

4C. Byproducts 'tomb' with secret door

This chamber is where the tubs of bones and other material unable to be processed in-house is located: blood, bones, hair, heads, skin. These products are transported each day to partners trusted to not inspect them too closely—a few oddities lost in the sea of London industry. Up until about a month ago, 4A was the storage space for byproducts, and it still has the infrastructure to prove it—though its current inhabitant has surely consumed anything edible.

Unbeknownst to anyone still living, a panel on the north wall of this chamber can be slid aside to reveal a secret door leading to 6A. Once, it wasn't secret, but age has taken its toll on the plaster walls and hidden the seams amidst a spiderweb of cracks. This 'tomb' was empty even before the company converted the crypt.

4D. Portcullis and loose brick

A steel gate has been installed in this previously-open corridor to prevent incursion from the crypts beyond. The gate was installed after the first attack by the undead from 5. A steel door still allows limited access—both Charles Martel and the foreman hold keys, the latter of whose infrequent forays to grave-rob is the reason for the state of 4A.

Close inspection reveals that a loose brick on the other side of the portcullis sticks out half an inch further than its fellows. Futley Ali Kala, a Cairene former-lascar, found it previously. It is reachable from this side of the portcullis only by those with long enough arms or the willingness and ability to dislocate one's shoulder—like him. By sliding out the brick he has used the cavity to store, without anyone's knowledge, a small, faceted sapphire found in the stomach of a butchered corpse. He has hidden it here while he makes arrangements to liquidate it and send a portion to his mother. It will take him over a month to finalize the arrangements.

5. Crypts

Once the basement crypts of a small Roman Catholic church demolished two centuries ago, the walls of these corridors are filled with burial niches, their stone plugs long since smashed and grave goods looted. The corpses were left to molder. Some grew angry enough that they rose to take vengeance. Nearly all have been destroyed in the attempt.

The floor is littered with masonry, bones, and other bits of trash, enough that movement is impaired. Despite the foreman's best efforts to ensure the floor and burial niches are bereft of treasure, a lengthy search of all the niches over the course of four or more hours may reveal one of the following (3–in–6 chance):

Such searching will surely attract the attention of the restless dead in 7.

5A. Ransacked tomb

The door to this tomb is cracked open and marked with a chalk "X." It was ransacked long ago and is now the nest of a number of giant centipedes (roll two dice and take the highest result; roll these dice every time the characters approach the tomb until both are 1s: these are the final two). Black and coiled, one might initially mistake them for snakes and back away slowly. A fatal mistake—there is another one crawling down the wall to land on your head.

5B. Weeping fountain

A fountain sits in the center of this room, left with only a half-inch of fetid water. The fountainhead is water-stained and depicts Mary cradling Christ in her arms—an unskilled, miniature replica of the Pietà. Water no longer pours from the nozzle, but there is still a bit of water in the basin. Someone watching the fountain for a turn or more will witness a single drop of water escape from a small crack in the ceiling, hit Mary on the head, then stream down her cheeks like tears and into the basin below. A leaky pipe or nearby groundwater pocket might lie above? The water is filthy with cholera, but if imbibed by a Roman Catholic—not an Anglican, not an Orthodox Christian—it is transubstantiated into the Blood of Christ. Not only does the drinker not contract cholera, the referee should waive their next roll—their action is successful (the player should not learn of this boon until it comes to pass). A character may only benefit from this effect once.

There is a 2–in–6 chance for a small number of giant centipedes (roll a die and divide by two) to be drinking from the fountain when the characters approach.

5C. Untouched tomb

This tomb remains sealed against time. Within, the desiccated remains of Ernst von Marschall, a Saxon knight and devout Catholic—the latter more important to him than the first. He was exiled from the Wartburg by the same hand that welcomed 'Jörg'—one knight replaced the other.

Disturbing his crypt will awaken him as it has awoken the other restless dead, but Ernst will not attack immediately: he will be confused and ask for the nearest character to identify themself, uttering the question first in his native Saxon German (thanks to his hated Martin Luthor, fairly intelligible to a modern German speaker) and then in Middle English. If the response does not immediately indicate to Ernst that the speaker is a Roman Catholic, he will launch into action and attack all those present—attacking each person in turn until everyone is dead or his blade identifies a Catholic. Upon finding a Catholic, Ernst falls to his knees and begs them to guide him. He doesn't understand what has happened to him—he does not remember dying, nor heaven, nor hell. Ernst will follow reasonable guidance. If beseeched for aid in a reasonably-holy-sounding quest, Ernst will swear himself to the service of the character. He will constantly offer unsound advice and religious counsel, and tests loyalty whenever the character acts in a sinful manner. A year and a day after leaving his tomb, he will disintegrate into ash, leaving nothing behind but his blade and cross.

Ernst von Marschall (3HD†). Never breaks morale. Wears a worn set of plate armor and a hefty silver crucifix around his neck. Wields a consecrated sword whose pommel is a sleeping lamb—its blade passes directly through Roman Catholics. The sword doesn't know about anything post-Calvinism and, if someone verbally claims they are a Roman Catholic, the sword believes them until proven otherwise.

6. Priest's tomb

The door to this tomb has been hacked down by an axe. Wood chips and splinters lay forgotten on the flagstones. Within, the tomb of a Roman Catholic priest. The plaster covering the walls is a faded blue, except for the largest west and east walls. There, two Biblical scenes are illustrated in frescos—Christ feeding the multitude graces the west wall, while he cleanses the ten lepers to the east. While the door may have been hacked down, the priest's coffin of plain stone is untouched. Within, only dust and bones, inanimate even upon disturbance.

The northern end of the west wall has a secret door. The fish in Christ's hands (to the left of the scene) can be depressed as a button to open a door behind the multitude (to the right of the scene). The door swings inward to 6A, hinges ingeniously concealed.

6A. Grave goods and shrine

A small shrine has been set up amongst the grave goods of the priest in entombed in 6. A wooden table stands beside the north wall, upon which rests a hand-illuminated copy of the King James Bible. Beside it, a small portrait of the Virgin and Child leans against the wall. The base of the portrait is held sturdy by a folded cloth-of-gold chasuble. All items in this chamber are of great value to collectors and ruined if handled roughly.

The southern corridor ends in a secret door leading to 4C. From this side of the panel its purpose and mechanisms are obvious.

7. Hidden tomb

The trash on the floor of the crypt has been disturbed in a fairly regular pattern from the foreman's visits. It has been some time since his last time in the crypt, and another layer of dust has settled. Thus the disturbance of dust in front of this set of niches is obvious to the careful observer. Physical inspection reveals that the top niche—the fifth from the bottom—is false, and the ceiling of the fourth niche is actually a lightweight panel that can be slid away from the entrance, revealing a hollow shaft where the fifth niche would be. If the character is not careful, the ceiling panel will fall away and clatter on the floor of the large chamber hidden beyond the shaft. It requires someone to squeeze into the niche and then contort themself over the rear wall of the fourth niche (which is really a more like a lip when the space is considered as a whole).

There is a 4–in-6 chance that the two ghouls that stalk these crypts are within the secret chamber, and that a character who goes to all this effort is immediately attacked by them. The ghouls grab whatever limb is poked into the secret chamber and pull its owner in between them, not even stopping to kill their target before beginning their feast. The ghouls were once grave robbers—lovers, two out of the original three in their band. Upon the discovery of the treasures within this tomb, one turned on the other two and slew them, though not before they were wounded mortally. All three rose again, their avarice punished as all-consuming hunger.

Against the south wall, in a coffin hacked open with an axe, housed in a bronze case held in a skeletal hand, the treasure waits: ninety-seven English florins, minted in 1344. The grave robbers only saw the gold; they would have killed each other a hundred times over if they knew the coins' true value.

8. Portcullis and unloading dock

A makeshift dock, the entrance to the sewers, is located behind a steel gate that stretches the width of this corridor. The western half of the gate—large enough for two people to walk through while carrying a corpse between them—can be opened and swung northerly along a set of grooves in the stone floor, where it affixes to the north wall of the corridor and can be fastened shut to open access from the sewers to 4 while simultaneously blocking access to 1. Both Charles Martel and the foreman hold keys to this gate.

This dock is where a team of six ratmen leave each day's corpse pallets, deposited by four a.m. such that the butchery crew need never see who exactly is supplying the company's corpses. Outside of the hours of three and four a.m., no ratmen are found here. They know the consequences of such a mistake.

The walkway ends soon after the sewer begins, though the channel may be either swum or sailed a great distance further—after half an hour, arriving at the ratmen complex and the loading dock at 9.