Letters From the Liberty Motel is an ominous journaling RPG about a housekeeper performing their duties in an infinite eldritch motel. This playthrough's protagonist is half human, half monster, and has sought sanctuary in the Liberty Motel; she must now endure the horrors behind every door and unravel the mystery of the motel and the curse that has befallen her.
Game link: https://worldchampgameco.itch.io/letters
The game is split into four days. Each day features a number of rooms, each of which contains an event. Room numbers are chosen by rolling d66, and events by rolling d10 and consulting the corresponding prompt.
The outcomes of most events are decided by a dice roll. There are two accompanying questions to answer, the results of which affect the roll. The game provides specific prompts for each outcome, but generally a result of 10 or higher leads to a more controlled outcome, 6 or lower is more dangerous or troubling, and 7-9 is somewhere in between.Some events also call for marking one point of "Tire"; after three of these, the day ends and an Overnight event occurs. There are prompts for these as well, but they do not make use of dice rolls.
Legend:
🎲 Roll performed for event (d10) or event outcome (2d6 with modifiers)
➕ Event question answered with "yes" or item used; event outcome roll +1
🌫️ Event question answered with "no"; event outcome roll unaffected
➖ Same event encountered twice in one day; event outcome roll -1
⚙️ Item gained or lost
💤 Tire point marked
Content warnings: blood, body horror, murder, grief, religious themes
Introduction
My name is Annabella.
I don't recall if this is my real name. It's the one that remains surfaced in my memories, but it's been so long since I was around anyone who would know my true name that I can't be sure if this is it, or if I gave it to myself.
I am avoiding the world, my old life, the countless masses out there who would wish me harm for being different. I can't control what I am.
So many memories of my past life are clouded, but most of all, I miss my nephew Alexander. He welcomed my presence, even when my sister, his mother, did not. His childlike joy bled into the fringes of my life, and now it's gone.
So far, I have been able to restrain my violent nature to the woods, the cliffs, the dark edges of the world. If anyone were to uncover it, to connect me with the bodies, I'm sure this job would be forfeit.
Every night, I am visited by the visage of the specter that cursed me to be this way. I no longer remember the details, and as such, I've long since stopped cursing their name. But their face haunts my dreams all the same.
From my past life, I've brought a sachet of lavender. Breathing in its scent brings me comfort, though for reasons unknown to me, pulling at its drawstrings causes my fingers to burn. The physical pain has stopped me from ever opening it. I long to see its contents for myself someday.
⚙️ Sachet of Lavender added to inventory
The motel's nature vexes me; though its inhabitants come and go, the building itself remains rooted to a single point in time. Its decor is antiquated and it smells of old wood, but it never creaks, never rots. Any damage the guests cause to its structure is gone the following morning.
I've told no one of my concerns because this place is a safe haven for me. The staff treat me kindly enough.
My greatest fear is hurting someone important to me. Maybe this has already happened, and I've simply forgotten. It's been so long.
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