Kaylna Country - Part 3 - Weird Landmarks, Towns and Babas!

 Weird Landmarks of Kalyna

Some places don’t just have stories—they make ‘em up while you’re standing there.”
—Stumpy Magree

 

The Green Vault

Ukrainian Nickname: Zernohrud (“Seed-Chest”)

Buried beneath layers of earth, encryption, and half-forgotten prayers lies the Green Vault—a seedbank from before the Hodgepocalypse, once managed by PryvitGrow, now controlled by the fungal diplomats known only as the Harvesters. Lush, humid, and alive in unsettling ways, the Vault is no longer a place of preservation but negotiation: its aisles of cryo-coffins, arcane hydro-tanks, and whispering flora form a living archive of crops long lost to the world above. Access is permitted—but only through “favors” owed, bargains struck, or memories harvested. Those who enter often leave changed, seeded with more than they came f

Plot Hook:

• A dying village seeks a drought-proof barley strain rumored to still rest in Zernohrud’s third chamber, but the Harvester who guards it wants a song that hasn’t been sung since the war.
• A former Vault technician-turned-scarecrow has reawakened and begun growing roots through a nearby town’s dreams—he wants his “archive key” back.

 

The Painted Crossroads

At this crossroads, the dirt has soaked up so much spell-chalk, runic ink, and baba footpaint that it’s turned into a living mural. Roads shift direction overnight, and travelers who pass through might end up in the past, future, or inside someone else’s folk tale. Locals say you must sing a verse before crossing—or risk becoming a footnote.

The Root-Choked Chapel

Once a wooden church, now consumed by massive, intelligent roots. It’s partially aboveground, partially underground, and entirely alive. The pulpit preaches itself. The pews grow moss cushions. Prayers whispered here may be answered by the trees, but the cost is never clear until the next full moon.

The Singing Stove

Deep in an overgrown clearing sits a cast-iron woodstove, still warm after all these years. No fire needed—it burns on memory. It sings old songs when fed family recipes, and warps reality slightly with each verse. Leave stew in it overnight and you may wake up having dreamt a life where everything went right. Or wrong.

The Weeping Milepost

Carved from old-world concrete and rebar, this roadside milepost constantly sheds faintly glowing water. Touch it, and you’ll see visions of those who died traveling—some remembered, some erased. It’s become a shrine to lost pilgrims, truckers, and adventurers who never made it home. Sometimes it whispers names in languages no longer spoken.

The Whispering Silo

A solitary grain tower on the vast prairie, its rusted ribs now hum with other people’s dreams. Those who sleep nearby often wake with someone else’s memory—sometimes helpful, sometimes tragic, always vivid. The Silo is said to record the lives of all who pass by and, on rare occasions, answers questions no one asked aloud.

Kalyna Country Transformed: Post-Apocalyptic Folkloric Map

ong after the world cracked and the stars blinked strangely, Kalyna Country did not simply endure—it remembered. Woven from ancestral memory, mutant resilience, and the shattered ley-lines of a forgotten age, this once-rural land has become a folkloric circuit of survival and spectacle. At its heart lies the Relic Roadshow—a mystical race across nine enchanted roadside wonders, each tethered to a sacred artifact tied to the land's soul. From neon-slick cities to fungal fortresses, psychic duck parks to haunted sausage plants, each stop tests more than strength—it challenges the heart, heritage, and humor of those brave enough to walk the path. For some, it’s a contest. For others, it’s a pilgrimage. But for the land itself, it’s a ritual. One that keeps the Dreamtime stable… and the foolish entertained.

Andrew: Where the Little Bears Play

Andrew is a quiet pocket of post-Hodgepocalypse tenderness—a humble town rebuilt by Little Bears, devoted to harmony, community, and protecting their cubs. With its garlic-scented streets and echoes of a forgotten premier, this settlement seems almost too soft to survive… and yet it thrives. Most homes are cozy, compact, and filled with laughter. The enigmatic Mischief Baba, George Netudyhata, watches over the town like a grandfatherly storm cloud—equal parts entertainer and enforcer. Despite its friendly tone, Andrew holds secrets under its soil: haunted grain elevators, flaming obelisks, and visions sent from the minds of Dreamtime titans. Its greatest trial sends adventurers beyond its borders, on a quest that tests care over carnage. In Andrew, the lesson is simple: kindness is not weakness, and the smallest heroes sometimes guard the biggest relics.

The Giant Duck

Perched in a tranquil park and surrounded by play structures and laughing children, the Giant Duck exudes an eerie calm—a slumbering sentinel of dream and memory carved from ancient polymer and imbued with a soul. This towering yellow relic is more than nostalgia made manifest; it’s a living node of transfiguration and empathy, echoing the hopes of youth and the bonds of trust. Unlike its louder cousins on the Relic Roadshow circuit, the Duck does not demand conquest but communion. To awaken it, one must return its wandering avatar—a living duck carrying its essence in the form of a keychain—and ensure it arrives unharmed, body and spirit. This sacred act of guardianship activates the Duck's magic, offering blessings to those pure enough to escort it through the madness of Elk Island Eldritch Park. But beware: even serenity has protectors, and not all birds are gentle.

Ed-Town: Where Every Road Becomes a Stage

The Big city of Kaylna Country, ED-Town is Strathcan’s beating, boot-stomping heart—a sprawling urban sprawl of busted neon, psychic festivals, and spiraling ambition. Founded on revelry and reclaimed ruin, the city thrives as a cross between an open mic apocalypse and a roadside attraction theme park. Beneath its cracked pavement and modular food trucks lies a community that runs on spectacle. Everyone is either performing, recording, or being watched by something arcane. The city’s patron is the Western Baba, Helen Gretzky, but she rarely shows herself. Instead, she lets the rhythm roll—her emissaries are punk cowboys, biker mystics, and retail prophets. Whether you're jamming in the alleys or battling in the backlot arenas, Ed-Town rewards flair over form, swagger over subtlety. Here, to walk the path of heroes, you first have to strut it.  For more details of this vibrant place, see the Book of Arrogance.

The Big Boot

Towering like a titan’s castoff and smelling faintly of ozone and oilskin, the Big Boot is a relic of raw evocation—born in a decade when glam, grit, and guitar solos ruled the land. Once a roadside photo stop, it now crackles with storm-forged power, pulsing with every thunderhead and festival beat that rolls through Strathcan. Legends say it was crafted from the leather of a dream-ox and stitched by forgotten gods of showmanship. To attune to the Boot is to earn its rhythm—to stomp, strut, shred, and survive. But the path to its activation lies through the Big Bad Shop, a gauntlet of musical mayhem and commercialized chaos run by Size 13 Rage, a family of minotaur rockers who believe that only the bold—and the loud—deserve the Boot’s blessing. Pass their tests or face the mosh pit of monsters, lasers, and style-based reality distortion.

Glendon: The Town That’s Just Trying to Feed You (and Bill You)

Glendon was once a sleepy little town where the most significant concern was whether the annual garlic butter ran out before the last tour bus. Home to the world’s most famous Pyrogy, it was a welcoming—if quirky—stop on the Relic Roadshow. But now, under siege by a Corpseman platoon, Glendon has traded friendly folk songs for whispered warnings. While undead checkpoints block the roads and playgrounds are converted into sniper nests, the townsfolk remain hidden behind closed doors, quietly rooting for the PCs from behind twitching curtains. If the party succeeds, they’ll be hailed as heroes with a celebratory meal worthy of legend—potato, cheddar, sour cream, and pride. Just don’t forget your wallet: the after-party always ends with a surprise bill. In Glendon, even a thank-you comes with a receipt.

The Giant Pyrogy

Glistening with steam, anchored to a slanted fork like a weaponized dumpling of destiny, the Giant Pyrogy is more than a roadside carb-load—it’s a bastion of community spirit and culinary abjuration. Once a tourist trap celebrating Eastern European prairie pride, the relic was awakened during the Hodgepocalypse, infused with defensive magic that makes it resonate with warmth, welcome, and a hint of passive-aggressive hospitality. Now, however, it has been compromised. The Corpsemen, ravenous undead soldiers of warped bureaucracy, seek to hijack its power for necrogastronomic purposes. To attune to the Pyrogy, the party must reclaim it from siege, defuse its sabotage mechanisms, and survive both the undead and the awkward locals who never expected outsiders to save their sacred starch. Only by reclaiming the relic and honoring its spirit can the heroes earn the Pyrogy Keychain, a charm that grants resistance to necrotic effects—and indigestion.

Mundare: The Town Where Meat Meets Mysticism

Mundare is a crossroads of clashing powers and salted legacies. Nestled among cranberry bogs and ritual farmland, it thrives at the strange intersection of culinary folklore and post-apocalyptic pragmatism. At its center is a three-way struggle: the sacred Orthodoxy templars hold fast to ancestral faith; the industrial Packenpocks Production LTD churns out meat and muscle for the region’s economy; and the now-missing Gothic Baba Vera, spiritual protector of the kielbassa, once kept balance between them. As tensions bubble like broth in a blood-filled pot, the town teeters toward eruption. Residents go about their daily lives—dodging Shuffalos, chasing haunted geraniums, and debating whether to fear or feast upon desecrator raids—but all eyes are on the giant meat in the courtyard. In Mundare, heroes aren’t forged—they’re cured.

The Giant Kielbassa

Coiled like a crimson god and glistening with mystic grease, the Giant Kielbassa is more than just a massive sausage-shaped monument—it’s a necromantic artifact of power, pulsing with heat, memory, and preservation magic. Once a folkloric blessing for long winters and family feasts, its essence was twisted during the Hodgepocalypse into a meat-bound conduit of arcane energy and now housed within the Meat Locker—part shrine, part slaughterhouse—this relic fuels ovens and freezes time, its aura able to cure flesh or chill hearts. Guarded by fire, ice, and bureaucracy, the kielbassa tests more than just brute strength. To claim its favor, one must endure its trials, survive its flavors, and confront the truths wrapped in casing: that power, like sausage, is often made from unseen gristle.

Smokey Lake: Where the Vegetables Watch You Back

Once a lakeside retreat, Smokey Lake has become a glittering test plot for psychic flora, retail dreams, and sentient tourism. Reclaimed and redesigned by the Harvesters, a telepathic plant race with both agrarian zeal and corporate ambition, the town is now equal parts botanical utopia and souvenir dystopia. Everywhere you look: pod people with serene smiles, psychic billboards urging consumption, and cheerful kiosks selling produce that might talk back. Despite the saccharine façade, danger simmers under the surface—from rogue flora in fast-food kitchens to nightmare entities walking out of drugstores. Holding the peace is an uneasy pact with the Porcipine Baba, who ensures visitors get a sporting chance to face the Pumpkin Trial. Smokey Lake may look like a family-friendly roadside attraction but stay too long and you might sprout roots—or worse, be recruited for product testing.

The Concrete Pumpkin Patch

Sitting in serene defiance of entropy and autumn alike, the Concrete Pumpkin Patch is no mere gourd. This titanic squash of shimmering polymer and arcane concrete radiates latent abjuration magic—protective, reactive, and temperamental. It doesn’t just defend the land; it remembers what threatens it. Infused with the psychic biocodes of the Harvester species and sanctified by the Porcipine Baba, Ester Kishka, the relic lies hidden within a crystalline labyrinth where thought becomes terrain. Its activation requires not brute force, but careful thought, empathy, and intuition—tested in rooms that challenge perception, identity, and emotional resilience. Only by surviving this botanical mind palace can one earn the Pumpkin Keychain, a charm of harvest protection and aura-based resistance. Beware, though: the pumpkin watches, and its defenses grow stronger the more foolish your intentions.

St. Paul: Homestead of the Stars

In St. Paul, cowboy hats pair with chrome jumpsuits and cattle calls echo alongside space beacons. The town is almost entirely inhabited by Marlarkoids, a proud, mystery-cloaked species who claim extraterrestrial heritage but live the lives of prairie settlers. Equal parts ranchers and retro-futurists, they build rayguns out of farm tools, quote galactic scripture with rural twang, and retrofit UFOs in backyard garages. The community blends frontier grit with Faustian flair, treating their landing pad as both shrine and workshop. Whether you're solving the mystery of a missing mascot, tracking stolen spacecraft components, or getting slimed in a grocery store, one thing’s for sure: St. Paul welcomes all who dream big—especially if they bring snacks, don’t question the lore, and are willing to play hockey under a saucer-lit sky.

The St. Paul UFO Landing Pad

Initially built in the mid-20th century as a publicity stunt, the UFO Landing Pad of St. Paul has become the symbolic and arcane endpoint of the Relic Roadshow. While it once offered little more than photo ops and tourism brochures, the Hodgepocalypse has turned it into something far more profound: a latent Conjuration nexus and gateway to the stars—or perhaps stranger places. To awaken its power, adventurers must clear residual hauntings, restore its arcane signal beacon, and contend with the sabotage of Julia Hellyer, an agent provocateur hiding behind small-town smiles. Those who succeed gain more than just the final Keychain Relic—they open a corridor of fate, setting the stage for future contact, conflict, or ascension. The prize? Fame, a paycheck, and the potential to ride a UFO into whatever lies beyond the edge of the Hallowed World.

Vegreville: The Town That Dreams in Color

Nestled in the heart of Kalyna Country’s warped prairie, Vegreville is a resilient settlement built on layers of tradition, dream magic, and stubborn agricultural pride. Though much of the original town was lost to the Hodgepocalypse, its people endured, rebuilding along a central strip where commerce, culture, and celebration still thrive. The city pulses with community life: greenhouses that whisper, breweries haunted by taxidermy spirits, markets peddling both pies and plasma, and shrines where faith fuels travel. Overseen by Mayor Sofia Kostash and protected by eccentric defenders like a talking quilt and a retired warbot named I.V.A.N., Vegreville has become the first checkpoint for glory-seekers in the Solstice Race. But beneath its festive surface lies a deep understanding: the Pysanka gives freely only to those who embrace both folklore and fury. Here, to race is to be judged—not just by the land, but by legend itself.

The Giant Pysanka

Rising from the dream-tilled earth like a monument to hope and heritage, the Giant Pysanka is more than a roadside oddity—it is a living relic. This massive, rune-etched Easter egg hums with divinatory energy, bound to the rhythms of the land and the will of those who seek its favor. Shimmering with forgotten glyphs and chromatic wards, it channels the echoes of ancestral prayers and future visions alike. To attune to it is to awaken a bond with the Dreamtime itself—a bond overseen by the Silver Baba, who records each attempt like a folkloric census taker. But such favor is not given freely; the Pysanka is guarded by the Earthbound Great Serpent, a horned wyrm of soil and memory that reshapes the ground around the egg into a living gauntlet of trials and tremors. Defeating it is possible surviving it with honor is preferable.

Vilna: Grit, Steel, and Fungal Resolve

The town of Vilna is a case study in post-apocalyptic adaptation: once flattened by fungal mutation, now reborn as a steel-clad mushroom metropolis built by the stoic and obsessive Trollitariots. These workaholic trolls live inside hollowed-out caps, repurpose bottle depots with psychic labor, and hold civic debates over who deserves adorable mutant elephants. They value sweat, schedules, and settlement rights—every mushroom in town is deeded, every metal panel documented. At the heart of their orderly chaos is a community that blends surrealism with socialist engineering: haunted churches, trash heap tigers, public libraries policed by gremlin-resistant reading policies, and enough skill montages to make any handyman weep with joy. Outsiders are welcome—if they help fix something. Just don’t break the rules. Or the ropes. And definitely don’t make fun of the mushrooms. They’re listening.

Mushroom Prime

Fused from three titanic stalks of bio-metallic mycelium and pulsing with green luminescence, Mushroom Prime is not just a building—it’s a biomechanical colossus, a post-Hodgepocalypse temple to grit, growth, and galvanization. At its core lies a metaphysical altar, a conduit between the Hallowed World and this reality, protected by labyrinthine fungal corridors, spring-loaded deathtraps, and territorial trolls with clipboard schedules. This living fungus isn’t simply grown—it’s engineered, each cap and stalk infused with psionic steel and the memory of every Trollitariot who climbed it before. To reach the relic within—the Mushroom Keychain, symbol of resilience, industry, and earthen strength—the party must endure obstacle courses, mind-warped spores, and an invasion of Hyperdemons trying to make this place a launchpad into the wider world. Mushroom Prime doesn’t just test adventurers. It records them. And if you're not memorable, you’re mulch.

Whoswho

The Eight Babas of Power

In Kalyna Country, where folk magic and post-apocalyptic mystery intertwine, the Eight Babas of Power stand as matriarchal guardians of the land’s strangest truths. These eccentric, formidable elders each rule over a different town, their personalities as distinct as the relics they protect. Whether guiding with cosmic insight, matchmaking with undead charm, or laying down frontier justice with spell-slamming revolvers, the Babas are equal parts protectors, meddlers, and living legends. Their influence shapes the spiritual and magical balance of Kalyna Country, and crossing one often means crossing them all.

Cosmic Baba

Alexander “Aleck” Molchan, better known as the Cosmic Baba, is a stargazing, cosplay-obsessed arcane powerhouse who guards the UFO landing pad in St. Paul. Clad in a starry robe over a lumberjack shirt and horn-rimmed glasses, he looks more like a fan-con fixture than a magical heavyweight—but don’t let that fool you. Aleck is a gentle, lawful good soul with a deep yearning to make first contact with actual extraterrestrials, offering aid to any who share even a whisper of alien knowledge. A master of arcane and cosmic forces, he hovers through the air, deflects magic like a pro, and throws around Gamma Blasts and reality-bending spells with nerdy enthusiasm. Just don’t challenge him to a costume party—you’ll lose, and he’ll still bring the fog machine.

Gothic Baba

Vera Polyakov, the Gothic Baba, is a black-garbed necromancer with a limp, a heart full of garlic-scented compassion, and dominion over the Great Mundare Sausage. Though she channels the grim art of White Necromancy, her magic is used for nourishment, resurrection, and romantic meddling more than malice. She commands corpsemen with uncanny ease, acting as a quiet architect of peace between the living and the dead. Despite her mournful aura and poetic leanings, Vera is an unabashed matchmaker who champions love in all forms and has little patience for heartbreakers. Kind, clever, and deeply haunted, she is a reluctant legend of the wastes—one part mournful aunt, one part death-powered deli matron.

Industrial Baba

Once a beloved elder named Helen Chornyi, the Industrial Baba lives on as a towering iron construct animated by soul-forged magic and Trollitariot devotion. Though encased in steel and bound to the bio-metallic mushroom fortresses of Vilna, her heart remains warm—if overbearing. She is a meddlesome matron who helps with a heavy hand, frequently making decisions for others “for their good.” Kind, clever, and practically immovable, she is a master of industrial magic and battlefield control, channeling spells through her massive frame like a living forge. Rumors persist that carrying a metal mushroom may allow her to travel—but until then, she rules her domain with stern affection and iron resolve.

Mischief Baba

George Netudyhata, the Mischief Baba, is a charming old trickster wrapped in blue jeans, suspenders, and the scent of wood shavings, with a ghostly dog always at his side and a glint of playful wisdom in his eye. Guardian of the Great Mallard Duck of Andrew, George is both a prankster and a protector, delighting in harmless thefts, misdirections, and "teachable moments" designed to help others grow. While he may bargain with sly grins and vanishing goods, he is fiercely loyal to children and will mete out justice to anyone who harms them. Underneath the mischief lies a strict code: every deal he makes is honored to the letter, and perhaps even the spirit if you earn his respect. Expect tricks, illusions, and laughter—so long as you’re not on the wrong side of his dog’s teeth.

Porcupine Baba

Ester Kishka, the Porcupine Baba, is a camouflage-clad recluse with a tassel-fringed jacket that bristles into spines when danger draws near. Crouched and squinty, she skulks through the wilderness like a spirit of caution and sharp lessons, letting her Harvester allies run things while she obsesses over secrets and survival. Though gruff and easily forgotten by outsiders, she’s fiercely loyal once bonded—and bound by an obscure ritual that, if properly performed, obligates her to help. A master of stealth magic and tactical strikes, she’s a prickly ally who favors indirect solutions and painful truths. Just don’t comment on her speech, and you might survive long enough to learn why she always travels with a packed bag and a silent promise.

Rose Baba

Rose Pieroginik, the Rose Baba, is a fiery, plant-bodied powerhouse in shoulder pads and heels, blending 1980s business ambition with arcane charisma and chlorophyll charm. Once a driven entrepreneur, her destiny was derailed by an encounter with the Harvesters, and she survived only by transferring her soul into a pod person’s form. Now the glamorous guardian of the Giant Perogy, she runs a bustling tourist-trap restaurant with a smile, a pitch, and a secret hunger for the next big opportunity. Fiercely persuasive and disarmingly friendly, she can charm crowds with pheromones or crush minds with spells. Of all the Babas, she’s the one most likely to offer you a contract—and the one you least want to disappoint.

Silver Baba

The Silver Baba, Sophie Obbizhysvit, guardian of the Great Pysanka of Vegreville, is a radiant elder wrapped in shimmering runes and divine insight, serving as the spokesperson and spiritual compass for the Babas of Power. Once forged by hardship, she now channels her strength into divination and justice, loathing arrogance and silently orchestrating poetic downfalls for bullies. Her gleaming attire stuns both in style and in combat, and her gaze can paralyze the unwise. Though reserved, she grants favors to those who uncover her hidden truths, appearing like a vision for a single round to tip fate’s scales. With foresight in her pocket and humility in her heart, the Silver Baba sees what others dare not dream.

Western Baba

Clad in worn leather, spurred boots, and grit-soaked wisdom, the Western Baba, Helen Gretzsky, is the arcane gunslinger of the eight—part wizard, part frontier legend. A master of evocation and raw force magic, she blends spellwork with sharpshooting, her long-bore revolver doubling as a spellcasting focus and symbol of justice. Gruff but good-hearted, she rides the line between law and freedom, protecting the overlooked and putting down the wicked with a steady hand and a flash of cyan flame. She’s seen strange things out on the range—stranger still if you know where to dig—and she doesn't hesitate to act when fate draws its gun first. Respect her boundaries, and you’ll find no more faithful ally this side of the Hodge Line.

Beyond the Babas - Key NPCs of Kalyna Country

Coach Danya Belski

Solstice Gym-Theologian of the New Cimmerians

Coach Belski is built like a shrine and talks like your favorite gym teacher crossed with a mystic firebrand. A revered mentor among New Cimmerians, he runs “Temple of the Rep” inside an abandoned curling rink-turned-sanctuary, where squat racks share space with votive candles and protein altars. He preaches the gospel of discipline through exercise, quoting ancestral sayings between sets and insisting that spiritual enlightenment starts with proper form.  Known for blessing barbell plates before competitions and officiating the sacred Trial by Burnt Barbell, Belski trains youth not just to lift—but to lift with purpose. He believes everyone has a “deadlift destiny,” and if you don’t know yours yet, he’ll help you sweat it out.

Plot Hook: Coach Belski’s prized anvil-dumbbell relic, the Burden of Saints, has been stolen before the Solstice Trials, and all the gym mirrors are now showing scenes of failure—some prophetic, some forgotten. To recover it, the party must track the thief through rival gym-cults, shadowboxing spirits, and a weightlifting ghost who refuses to rest until someone finally hits their PR.

Father Melosky

The iron backbone of Mundare’s Orthodoxy—a broad-shouldered priest who quotes saints mid-grapple and leads sermons with bruised knuckles and blessed sweat. Once a humble Basilian monk, he now trains “devotional wrestlers” in the Basilica-Bunker’s holy gymnasium, delivering faith through footwork and fearsome forearms. While the townsfolk respect his strength, they whisper about the day he knocked out a demon mid-prayer... and smiled.

Plot Hook:
During the Feast of St. Demetrius, an initiates' match ends in a vision of fire and betrayal etched in sweat on the gym walls. Father Melosky needs help uncovering whether it’s prophecy—or punishment for loving the fight too much.

 

Pauly PackenPocks,

 

The slick-talking, deal-making meat mogul of Mundare, is the founder and face of PackenPocks—the post-apocalyptic prairie’s most infamous meat processing empire. Charismatic, cutthroat, and always ready with a handshake or a sales pitch, Pauly rose to prominence after the collapse of inter-provincial trade barriers, flooding the market with his vacuum-sealed meats and catchy jingle: “Pick me up a PackenPocks!” Though he paints himself as a visionary feeding the nation, locals know him as a wheeler-dealer with a golden tongue and a silver knife, always angling for the next big contract, relic, or loophole. Rumors swirl about just what kind of meat makes it into a PackenPocks pack—but Pauly smiles, pats your back, and says, “Don’t worry, it’s local.”

Plot Hook:
A rival distributor has gone missing after accusing PackenPocks of selling “miracle meat” that doesn’t spoil—and might not die. Pauly hires the party to clear his name, but every clue leads deeper into the meatworks, where the sausages hum and the vats breathe.

 Kalyna Country Quest Hooks

The following are 10 playable quest hooks for adventuring parties traveling through Kalyna Country, each rooted in folklore, magical surrealism, and post-Hodgepocalyptic eccentricity. Use them as one-shots, campaign arcs, or side plots along the Relic Roadshow.

The Pickled Prophecy

A barrel of enchanted dill pickles begins whispering accurate predictions—then goes silent. The villagers believe the final message warned of a betrayal during the Solstice Feast. Now everyone’s a suspect, and the pickles are missing.

Trial by Barbell

A New Cimmerian gym-camp goes quiet after an initiation rite leaves the forest trembling. Rumors speak of a cursed barbell that lifted the lifter instead. Locals need someone to recover it before the next flexquake.

Relic Roadshow Sabotage

One of the Solstice Race checkpoints—the Giant Duck—is missing its living keychain again. But this time, the duck is laying decoy eggs filled with psychic traps. Why? And who’s tampering with the course?

The Singing Stove’s Lullaby

A villager accidentally left stew cooking in the Singing Stove and woke up speaking an extinct language, and can’t stop. Worse, their dreams now broadcast locally. The stove must be appeased before it starts a psychic storm.

The Sausage Knight Has Gone Rogue

The enchanted Kielbassa Golem of Mundare, normally a protector, has wandered off muttering strange anti-orthodoxy poetry. The Orthodox want it sanctified. The PackenPocks want it weaponized. The Baba wants you to ask it what’s wrong.

Ghost Wheat Harvest

A golden field has sprouted overnight in a zone scorched by leyfire decades ago. Locals who try to reap it disappear, replaced by smiling doubles. The field sings at night. The didukhs are starting to sway.

The Perogy Pact

Rose Baba has struck a temporary alliance with a rogue Corpseman band—but a love triangle, a cursed recipe, and a stolen soul-storage tupperware have thrown everything off. Unpack the emotional mess or risk undead litigation.

The Root-Choked Chapel Awakens

Prayers muttered in the wrong tone have reawakened the sentient root system. The chapel now preaches fire-and-brimstone sermons through wind chimes and tree bark. The villagers are starting to agree. Intervention is required.

Raiders of the Lost Recipe

A Living Recipe scroll from Redbog Hollow has gone missing, rumored to grant immortality through soup. Several factions want it. Unfortunately, it’s now in the belly of a Thornslither with a taste for poetry.

Return of the Baba's Scar

A psychic eclipse has caused the Baba’s Scar to start rewriting local reality. Trees turn into doors. People find versions of themselves arguing in mirrors. A brave team must descend into the crater to stitch the storylines back together—or be edited out of history.