READ IT PLAYED
MORK BORG
In a hardcore world where the apocalypse can strike at any time, Chris Lowry and his party of outcasts try their best to scrape through another day
Words by Chris Lowry
Growing up isn’t really a thing you do in Galgenbeck. At best, you sort of, congeal. Get harder. Dirtier. You do what’s needed to hang on, to eke out a bit more life, trying not to think about the things you have to do to survive. Or the people you step on along the way. Personally speaking? I’m just gutterborn scum and I’ll happily gut you for thruppence.
That’s what’s dumped us here. My gang lost souls glued together by hatred and despair - are hunting for treasure. “Where there’s gold, there’s hope.” That’s what they used to yell at us when they cast us orphans out to beg.
So, where do you find treasure? Dungeons, that’s where! The problem is where do you also find goblins, horrors and grisly, forsaken deaths? Aye, that’d be dungeons too. We stood before a spiked pit. “There’s a single log balanced over the top of it. Recklessly.” said Dave, with a grin. He was our GM and he’d invited the three of us over to play MÖRK BORG, knowing we couldn’t resist its grim charms. I was playing as “Gert,” Sam as “Grint” and Celion had taken on the role of “Svind.”