Lamentations of the Flame Princess - Ruinous Palace of the Metegorgos.pdf

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Presented by ISoG
for use with Lamentations of the Flame Princess
.
In Search of Games
Contents
•||
Introduction
•||
The Woods
•
Sad Zombie &
•
Funeral Song
•||
Ruinous Palace
•
Where’s Metegorgos & Curses
•
Map of Metegorgos’s Lair
•
Outside (Obsidian Wyrm)
•
Entrance (Sunstroke)
•
•
Receiving Hall (Excreta/Gnomi)
•
Temple/Dressing Room/ Hallway
Encounters
Pg. 4
Pg. 6
Pg. 7
Pg. 9
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Pg. 11 ||
Pg. 11 ||
Pg. 12 ||
Pg. 13 ||
Pg. 14 ||
Pg. 15 ||
Pg. 16 ||
Pg. 17 ||
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Ablution Chamber (Thunder Hags) Pg. 18 ||
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Bed Chamber
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Aftermath
Pg. 19 ||
Pg. 20 ||
3
Introduction
The gods are cruel; this is well known.
The gods are jealous and petty: needy,
self-absorbed, and oh so powerful.
Long ago... no, longer than that... long,
long ago, there was a woman tied to a good
house. She believed she should have been
born a goddess.
She dared to speak such things aloud,
even under the jealous light of the yellow
eye.
Her boldness grew and grew with her
fecundity. She gave her husband -with
some little help- 100 sons.
The terrible gods took notice, and waited
with bated breath for the first hint of
unforgivable blasphemy.
Now, she has outlived more
children than you
will ever
see.
Pg 4
Intro...
She waddles within her wet, dark home, the skin of her swollen breasts
and swollen belly purple with bruises. Metegorgos is overfull, leaking
milk and children.
Tenderly, she caresses and cares, most maternally, for all of the
objects and beings in her cold home. She birthed them, each and every
one.
The awkward amphora, half full of wine: she brought it bloodily into
this world. She nursed it up to its full size. She set it tenderly in the
corner of the room. When she remembers, as she walks by, she tells the
clay vessel how much she loves him.
Now, imagine the love she holds for the children that can love her
back?
The Dragon, her first born monstrosity, which she has given suck to for
thousands of years? He loves her beyond sanity. He poorly adjusts to
being weaned even as he learns his own great strength. Mutton is not
mother's milk, but hot blood warms him nicely. Mostly, though, he
sleeps and dreams of being useful.
Of course, her hair is curling snakes and terrible to behold, though
mostly they sleep, as well.
Her home has no hearth. It is cold, and fire has been disinvited. The
snakes sleep. She keeps what little warmth she has for her children
alone.
z
5

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