The Rootwake of Lockroot Tunnels

They say the Lockroot Tunnels weren’t built — they grew. A fusion of living tech and ancient city spirits, woven together when Convergence first punched through the fabric of time, and the stacks were still neatly arranged. The walls vibrate with buried memories, the floors pulse with faint currents, and the bio-lumoss isn't just lighting the way — it’s watching. Travelers who linger too long find the tunnels shifting behind them, walls reknitting into new patterns. Some swear the corridors breathe, guiding or trapping souls depending on the city's will and the character's heart. In the Rootwake, doors open to places that don't exist on any map. Some lead to hidden treasures. Some lead to other Ages. And some... never open again.

  • The walls close faster when you scream.

    Map your path with light. Step where it dies.

    Two doors open. One door lies.

    Not all moss is moss. Step careful.

  • They say if you find a door with no markings, no moss, and no vibration — it’s not a door. It’s a mouth.

    Sometimes, the Rootwake spits you out a hundred years back — or forward. That’s if you’re lucky.

    The tunnels don’t kill you fast. They forget you.

  • The Door of Thorns
    Somewhere deep in the tunnels grows a door made entirely of living thorns and bone-white wood. It bleeds when touched. Legend says if you pry it open (without getting cut), you’ll find a cache of forgotten tech from the Lost Ages... but every thorn that pricks you steals a memory you'll never get back.

    Trade a Memory to the Moss
    Old scavvers say if you speak a true memory into the bio-lumoss and leave something behind — a photo, a name, a piece of yourself — the tunnels might open a hidden shortcut.
    But the memory is gone forever, ripped clean from your mind, leaving only an aching blank space.

    The Clockhand Stranger
    Some who get truly lost report meeting a tall, thin figure whose arms are made of warped, ticking clock hands. If you bargain wisely, they’ll guide you back to the surface. If not... you might keep ticking down there forever.

    The Candlemouth Ritual
    It's said that if you find an abandoned maintenance terminal with a still-flickering red screen, you can perform the Candlemouth Ritual: whisper the name of someone you lost, press your forehead to the console, and wait.
    If the Rootwake approves, you'll find them — or a version of them.
    If it doesn’t, you’ll forget why you ever went looking.

    The Doorless Chase
    Sometimes, explorers hear heavy, wet footsteps behind them — but when they turn around, nothing's there. The only way to survive is to keep moving until you find a door with no handle and no hinges.
    Bang on it exactly three times.
    If you do it right, you’ll pass through to another part of the tunnels. If you don’t... well, at least you won’t hear the footsteps anymore.

The Weep

Beneath the Iron stack, where the factories hammer out steel across the Ages and black smoke colors the Stacks, lies The Weep — an ancient drainage gorge where the city's worst mistakes are flushed away. Technically classified as "Hazard Zone 13C," locals gave it its real name for how the rocks seem to "cry" molten runoff that turns every trickle into a blood-colored river. No one knows what flows through it anymore — industrial waste, chemical residue, something alive... maybe all three.

The cliffs surrounding The Weep are overgrown with Fallowmoss, a mutant plant that thrives on toxins and glows faintly when night falls, lighting the gorge in sickly greens and reds. Travelers typically avoid it. Smugglers use it. And some report voices coming from the tunnels when the bloodwater runs high.

  • If players fall into the bloodwater, they must immediately draw a card:

    Hearts: Minor burn, recoverable.

    Diamonds: Gain a random minor mutation (SB decides).

    Clubs: Suffer corrosive damage over rounds.

    Spades: Contract a Blood Plague (special disease that awakens latent powers... but maybe kills you).

  • For time spent near The Weep, players must flip a card: if it’s a black card, they hear a whisper that tries to convince them to jump in. If they resist (player choice), they gain a bonus somewhere (SB discretion). If they fail...SB has a LOT of fun.

  • A local gang uses empty trucks disguised as garbage haulers to transport rare tech, spirit artifacts, and illegal bioweapons through the tunnels. Could be enemies. Could be... unlikely allies. Could be both.

FLAVOR HINTS

  • The bloodwater isn’t just pollution — it’s "Awakened Residue" from a failed dimensional experiment decades ago.

  • Creatures called SlickBorn are rumored to crawl up from The Weep at night. Slippery, fast, and not supposed to exist.

  • Hidden deep in the tunnels is an abandoned research station still partially operational — if you can survive getting there.

Red Weepfish Fillet

Warning: Highly Toxic. Expert Chef Preparation Required.

A rare "fish" that adapted to The Weep's bloodwater. Its flesh is exceptionally tender if properly detoxified and bursts with complex, spicy flavor. If prepared incorrectly, it can cause instant hallucinations—and maybe death.

  • Only an Expert Chef can attempt detoxification.

  • Chef/SB must draw two cards:

  • If both are Red: PERFECT DISH! — Grants a bonus to Sting and Movement for a limited time.

  • If one Red, one Black: EDIBLE — no bonus, but no harm either.

  • If both Black: TOXIC! — Anyone eating it suffers random hallucinations (SB discretion).

SlickBorn

Malformed creatures that were once living organisms - fish, vermin, and any Protein that became mutated by the Awakened Residue flowing through The Weep.