The Weekend First Play: Machine Gods of the Noxian Expanse #3
Wrapping up Jocelyn's Quest in the Ancient Temple
“Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends! We’re so glad you could attend! Come inside, come inside…for even more Machine Gods of the Noxian Expanse…”
I’ve created a bit of a monster with this “Weekend First Play” idea, haven’t I?
What was envisioned as a one-and-done “First Look” has now turned into an ongoing series where people want me to narrate a lengthy and epic quest… (Editor’s Note: It’s your own fault for not making it clearer, you idiot!)
To be clear, the “shelf of shame” now has MORE games on it than when I first started this series four weeks ago—I need to move on before the pile of gamebooks topples over on top of me, and kills me!
Anyway, since I left Jocelyn mid-quest, I’ve decided to do one more Weekend Write-up to wrap things up in a neat(er) bundle before moving on to another game next weekend.
Don’t hate me… 😛
In the previous post, we left Jocelyn and T-459X in the first main room of the Ancient Ruins, having dispatched the Ghost Protocol. I’ve since decided this place is colloquially known in Rockmound as “The Vault of the Last Protocol…”
Jocelyn dragged the edge of her sleeve across the blood-slick rapier, cleaning the blade with a sense of relief. She exhaled slowly as she considered their next steps.
She’d first heard the name, The Vault of the Last Protocol, muttered by a crusty old scavenger in the town store, certain it was just an old wives’ tale. But stories sure as hell didn’t leave behind scorch marks and ruptured circuitry like the thing she and T-459X had just put down.
She glanced at the corridor branching off to the west. The shadows there were thick, expectant. She didn’t know if the Vault’s secrets were buried, broken, or waiting.
But she intended to find out.
First, we roll the Usage Die, as discussed in the previous episode, to determine if we move a step closer to completing the dungeon. Rolling a one or two on our d8 would mean dropping down to a d6, but we roll a five. Onwards we go...
The corridor to the West is (the d10 tells us) seven “squares” long and leads to a room measuring 6x4 squares. I roll a d10 for monster activity—it’s an eight, so there are none. Not needing to roll on the Encounter table, instead I roll on the Ruin Events table and discover that “an ancient PA device is still broadcasting”, as it presumably has for thousands of years…
Pausing for a moment, I consider this strange device, barking out orders to nobody for thousands of years. If I wanted to, I could envisage what it is saying and add flavour to my story. Since the room is empty otherwise, I decide to press on.
There’s only a single exit in this room, to the north, so I trudge north and roll the Usage Die (UD) once more. Whoah—it’s a one, which means next time I’ll be rolling a d6 rather than the d8. We’re making progress!
The corridor is short and leads directly into a smaller room than the previous two. Again, the dice confirm the room is devoid of monsters, but there are “floating geometric patterns” emitting from a device recessed into the ceiling.
This time, I do want more narrative, so I roll on the supplied d100 theme oracles for some flavour and roll up “Challenge” and “Weakness.” That suggested that maybe the patterns begin to affect T-459X. His repeating patterns of speech begin to slow; his voice patterns shift to a lower octave, and he moves noticeably slower.
Concerned that the bot is being somehow weakened by whatever is projected, Jocelyn decides that discretion is the better part of valour. There are exits east and west, but unwilling to waste time contemplating, Jocelyn quickly runs to the western corridor with T-459X grinding and clanking behind.
The duo arrive in a long, thin room. Jocelyn pauses to recover her breath and is heartened to detect that her robot friend appears to have returned to a normal rhythm. Again, there is no monster activity, and the Usage Die (UD) remains at six. Glad for the chance to pause, she lets her eyes become accustomed to the half-light.
Her eyes found the wall. A massive digital screen stretched across it—wafer-thin and somehow still intact after all these centuries. It shimmered with a quiet glow, playing images that flickered like dreams behind fogged glass.
Jocelyn stepped closer.
Golden fields rippled beneath blue skies. People are working in harmony, their tools efficient but simple. Herds of strange animals she’d only seen in old children’s books. Vehicles—not armoured or armed, but strange and elegant—gliding along black ribbons of road.
The Old World. Before the fall. Before the Machine Gods. A lump rose in her throat. She stood in awe for a moment longer, eager to absorb the serene peace of the images.
But time was a luxury she didn’t have. With one last look at this echo of paradise, Jocelyn turned from the screen and toward the western corridor. The Vault hadn’t given up all its secrets yet. And she wasn’t done asking questions.
The next UD roll is a 2. Yikes! We are now down to a d4 and another 1 or 2 (which is a 50/50 shot) will signal the end of this ruin. Moving through yet another corridor, the two companions arrive in a large square room (5x5), which appears to have some kind of gravity shift.
Small objects float in mid-air, and Jocelyn feels herself taking longer steps than usual and almost walking on the air. Worried about the effects of sticking around her too long, she calls to her trusty robot companion, and they make for the exit to the north.
We roll the UD once again. It’s a two! The next room will be the final room of the quest. Jocelyn drops to a crouch and murmurs to T-459X to be quiet. I roll for monsters, and there are none
The Last Protocol was indeed the last one left active. Now the name makes perfect sense.
Nonetheless, I decide on a cautious entry because who knows what might await? I have Sneak as one of my “feats.” It’s time to put it to use.
Checks are an important mechanic in Machine Gods of the Noxian Expanse. In this case, I need to pass a DEX check to complete an entry in sneak mode, and, would you believe it, I roll a nine, which is below my DEX of 10.
Rats! Then I remember I also took the “Lucky” feat, which gives me a re-roll on a DEX check. Breathing a sigh of relief, I roll again—fifteen. I pass the check and move silently into a 3x2 antechamber. Looking for some clues, I roll on the d100 theme oracles and get “Exchange” and “Power.” I roll on the Event table, and it’s a ten—” a data leak causes shared memories.” Hmmm… what to do?
Jocelyn stood with her hands planted firmly on her hips, her gaze fixed on the strange object embedded in the far wall—a slender tube, pulsing with a cool, pale luminescence. It gave off no heat, no sound, but it seemed to thrum with a kind of silent energy, as if it were waiting for something. Or someone.
She heard the soft clank of metal footsteps behind her. T-459X stepped into the room, his optics adjusting to the low light. The moment he crossed the threshold, the tube came alive.
A beam of radiant energy shot forth, striking the panel in the centre of the robot’s chest. Jocelyn flinched, instinctively reaching for her weapon—but then froze as the space before her shimmered. A holographic projection bloomed into the air, rich with colour and dimension. It wasn’t just an image—it was a memory.
She saw it unfold in disjointed fragments: blinding pulses of light, platforms gliding through air, and an endless staircase spiralling into a void so deep it seemed to swallow time itself.
Jocelyn had never been there. But she knew what it was. The Voidspire.
A name whispered in half-truths and bedtime warnings. A place said to exist outside space, outside reason. A nexus of myth, machine, and madness. And somehow… it was calling her.
Suddenly, as quickly as it started, the projection vanished. The robot whirred back into life.
“T-459X knows where the... click… Null Reliquary is... whhhrrrr… T-459X will lead Jocelyn to …click… The Voidspire … to find what she is looking for…”
Nice write up, as always! I do hope you’ll continue Jocelyn’s quest even if you plan on going through your shelf of shame…