Magical Marvels 13: Snowstorm Blade

When found, this weapon appears to be nothing more than a very elaborate hilt. It has a silver cross guard in the shape of a lightning bolt, a grip wrapped in blue-dyed leather, and a pommel circled with brilliant blue sapphires. One might at first suspect that the blade has simply broken off, but any cursory examination of where the blade ought to be will reveal no trace that a blade was ever there.

If the sword is held aloft, a bolt of lightning will arc from the sky towards the hilt. If the bolt reaches the hilt, a 3ft long blade of jagged ice will slowly begin to form over the course of 1 minute. However, if there is anything in between the hilt and the sky (such as a roof, or a monster) then the lightning will strike that instead, dealing damage as normal. (6d6 damage, save v. breath for half). Lightning cannot be called for while the blade exists, nor can it be called for more than once per minute.

Note that while underground, holding the hilt aloft will cause a lightning bolt to strike the surface directly above you, potentially causing harm the player will not be aware of immediately.

Once the ice blade has formed completely, it functions as a longsword. Upon a successful hit, however, the ice blade shatters into a cloud of snow. Creatures with 5HD or or lower are frozen completely solid, and could easily be kicked into tiny pieces. Creatures of 6HD or greater take 6d6 frost damage, and are frozen to the ground until they can make a successful strength check to dislodge themselves. In particularly hot environments, a cumulative +2 each round would be appropriate.

Colorful Characters 26: Ronder Thelleper, The Drunk Warlock

Ronder Thelleper, or as he loudly proclaims himself to anyone who will listen, “The Greatest Warlock in Existence,” is the strangest caster you’ll ever meet. He doesn’t know how to read, and he worships no gods. All he wants is a cold brew, and someone else to buy them for him. For enough coin, he’ll hire on with any band, and face any danger, for the promise of a steady stream of booze.

Armor 12, 3 Hit Dice, Movement 120′, 1 dagger attack, Morale 8 (Lamentations of the Flame Princess rules)

Magical abilities function only while Ronder is completely drunk. If he’s only tipsy, or starting to sober up, spells might function at 1/2 effectiveness, as ruled by the GM. Using any of his magical abilities requires a full round, as it does for other casters. There is no limit to the amount of times these abilities may be used in a given day.

Firebelly – Flame arcs from Ronder’s mouth, unerringly immolating his target for 2d6 damage. save v. breath for half damage.

Bubbly – Tiny bubbles pour out of Ronder’s clothes, and begin to grow larger. They float towards a targeted group. 2d6 human sized creatures must succeed on a save v. palatalization or become trapped in a bubble for 1d4 rounds. The bubble cannot be popped from the inside, but can be popped normally from the outside.

Blackout – A single target must succeed on a save v. magic, or become stupefyingly drunk. They will stumble around, tell people they love them, and probably fall asleep at the soonest opportunity. Fades as normal drunkenness would.

Reverse Goggles –The target of this spell must succeed on a save v. magic. Upon failure, they will find Ronder irresistibly attractive for 1d4 + 2 hours. During this period they’ll do whatever they need to do to get his attention and make him happy.

Anytime anyone asks Ronder to perform a task, roll 1d6 to determine what Ronder does.

1-2: Ronder performs the task as requested.
3-5: Ronder performs some task which he thinks will be even more beneficial to his employer. These are almost always terrible ideas.
6: Ronder gets confused. His turn is wasted. Make a morale roll to determine if he has become confused enough to change sides.

Magical Marvels 12: Silvertongue Ink

When discovered, this item appears to be a moderately ornate inkwell, filled with a silvery liquid. The inkwell itself appears only slightly valuable, and the liquid inside can easily be mistaken for quicksilver. Altogether, a merchant would pay perhaps 50 gold pieces for it.

If the silvery liquid is used as ink (any quill will do) whatever is written with it takes on magical properties which affect whoever reads them.

A statement of fact, however ridiculous it may be, will be believed. A command, even a command to kill oneself, will be followed. And a question, no matter how personal, will be answered. A successful saving throw against magic can be made to negate this effect. However, unlike many similar effects, a successful save will not alert the subject to the fact that someone has attempted to affect their mind, unless they are a magic user of 10th level or higher.

It should be noted that addressing a note with something to the effect of “To the King of Gorpagop” will cause whoever reads it to immediately stop reading it, and make every effort to deliver the note to the king of Gorpagop.

When found, the inkwell contains enough ink for 100 words.

Deadly Dungeons 22: The Slide Room

This room is exceptionally simple in function, but can prove quite confusing to players. Particularly if they need to flee quickly!

The room itself (shown here in red) is actually just a small chamber which rests inside of a much larger one. It is mounted to the walls, floor, and ceiling of the larger chamber by a set of expertly crafted rails, which have been treated with a magical oil which does not degrade over time. So perfect are the mechanisms which move this room, that it does not produce the normal rumbling vibrations which would normally be a dead giveaway that something was amiss. Those who are particularly in tune with the ground (such as dwarfs) should be given a chance to notice the movement, but only when they are inside of the moving room itself. And even then, their ability to detect the movement is not certain.

Every corridor which can be used to approach this room is strewn with pressure plates. When activated, these plates will cause the room to move into position to receive the approaching characters. The pressure plates are specifically placed far enough away from the sliding room that it will have ample time to be in position before anyone is within eyesight of its doors. If these pressure plates are detected and avoided, there is a 4-in-6 chance that the room will not be in position when the players arrive, and they will instead find themselves looking into a long featureless room. If the players choose to enter this room, roll a check every few turn to determine if the sliding room moves to crush them.

The inside of the sliding room itself is almost entirely featureless and boring. It must be, or else the extremely sensitive weight detection mechanism would be too difficult to calibrate! So long as any character is inside of it, the room will move to a new position any time one of its doors is closed. If it is at the south-most position, it will move north, if it is in the north-most position, it will move south. If it is in one of the two central positions, randomly determine whether it will move north or south.

So, for example, if the red room is in the position shown above, and the players approached it from the curving corridor on the southern side of the map, then it would glide to the south-most part of the larger chamber before they arrive. If they see the room, and all enter it, then close the door behind them, the room will glide back to the position shown on the map. If they then exit it, and close the door behind them, it will not move, because there is no weight inside of it (unless they left equipment weighing at least 30lb behind). If the party’s halfling then enters the room, and closes the door leaving the others outside, they will see the room slide away with their halfling inside of it.

The 1 Hour Dungeon

Remember when you told your mom that you were leaving food out “as an experiment?” but really you just didn’t want to clean it up? No? That was just me? Well that’s pretty much what I’ve been doing with my GMing lately. I’ve been shamefully avoiding preparation, and justifying my laziness by calling it an experiment in improvisation. But unlike my childhood self, I’m legitimately interested in how the experiment will turn out. So after working on being a better improvisor for the last few weeks, I thought it would be an interesting change of pace to sit down and give myself a single hour to create an entire dungeon adventure. The idea is to simulate the time crunch I experience while improvising a dungeon for my players, while still actually preparing something in advance of the game.

This is what I came up with, all within 60 minutes, which includes the map. I have cleaned up the text a bit, though. I don’t want to ask anyone to understand my sketchy shorthand.

Note that my thought is that this would be used with a game system similar to the one I wrote about last Wednesday. The idea is that the players begin with no classes at all, similar to The Funnel of DCC RPG. As they play through this dungeon, they will seek to define their character.

General Info:

Old man Herst recently pulled down a bunch of trees at the end of his property. His onions were profitable last year, and he’d like to increase his crop this year. While tilling the soil, though, he discovered the most peculiar thing: a stone stairway! Leading right down into the earth! It was the damndest sight he ever done seen, and when he was telling the tale down at the pub that evening, you overheard him.

It’s perhaps 2 in the morning now, and you and your friends have gathered around the stairs. You’ve heard it said that treasures can sometimes be found beneath the earth–treasure enough that a bunch of farm hands like yourselves could buy a better life for yourselves.

Room 1: The walls and floor are a moss-covered flagstone. Stones are missing here and there, exposing the earth. The ceiling is almost entirely exposed earth, supported by stone arches which criss-cross the ceiling. Roots poke through here and there, and it looks as though it wouldn’t take much for the dirt to collapse into the room. These conditions persist throughout the dungeon, unless otherwise indicated.

There’s also a good deal of timber in this room, stacked in piles against the east and western walls. It is clearly old and rotten, perhaps part of the structure which originally stood over these stairs.

Exits to the North and South are visible upon entering the room. The secret exit to the West can be revealed by moving the timber aside.

There are 6 mouse-folk here, huddled in the corner and clutching their clubs. Their fur is mottled, and they appear to be malnourished.

Room 2: The walls have corpse shelves here, though most of these are empty. There are 12 shelves in all, but only three bodies remain. Close examination of any of the empty shelves will reveal a small pressure plate in roughly the same spot on each shelf. Pressing the plate does nothing. Close examination of the wall across from any shelf will reveal a small hole, the purpose of which is unclear.

Moving any of the three bodies which remain releases the pressure plate under their heads, and a crossbow bolt is fired at the player’s back from across the room. Also under each of these bodies, roughly where the small of the back would be, is a small ovoid piece of amber. Each is worth 10gp.

Room 3: Some of the floor stones here have been pulled free, and water from above has formed into a pond which is 2ft deep at its deepest point. There are six mouse people here, drinking the water. Two more stand guard.

Aside from the water, there are three shelves in the room which were once filled with books. The shelves have now been knocked over, and the books scattered about the floor. Most are torn to pieces, and nearly all of them are covered in black mildew and small mushrooms. Thoroughly searching through the books will reveal only one book which is still in good condition. It is written in an odd script, but anyone who makes a successful intelligence check will strangely be able to read it.

Studying the book from cover-to-cover takes 8 hours. Once completed, the reader’s mind will be awakened to magical power. The player may immediately become a 1st level wizard, and may use this book to prepare a 5lb Mage Hand spell.

Once someone has been awakened in this manner, the book must rest for 100 years before it can awaken another.

Room 4: Most of the stones from the walls and ceiling have been piled in the center of the room in a 4ft high mass. Mouse folk have burrowed small nests in the dirt here. There are 14 adult mouse people here, and 26 young.

Beneath the pile of stone is a small chest containing the treasures of the mouse people: 16 gp, 42 sp, 317 cp, and 1 ruby worth 25gp.

The secret door in this room is opened by pushing on a hidden stone, and can only be discovered by performing a search check on the appropriate wall.

Room 5: In the center of this room is a wooden chair with skulls piled up around the base of it. Several skulls are nailed to the sides and legs of the chair as well. A young man in black robes with skulls haphazardly sewn onto the shoulders is nervously pacing here. He is Hezaphezus the Malevolent Bringer of Doom and Unlife. An inept necromancer of 18 years. He already cast all of his spells for the day, but carries a dagger and a Wand of Cold, which deals 1d6 damage and has 1d10 charges. Also on his person are 30 gp.

Room 6: Eight shambling corpses are here, banging on the door which leads to room 5. If zombies can show emotion, these zombies are angry. They’re so intent on getting through the door that they will not pay attention to the players unless they are attacked.

The flagstones on the floor of this room make a spiral pattern which twists towards the center of the room. At the center of the floor is a glass lens, about 1ft in diameter. If you look through it, you will see the plane which your soul would be bound for if you died today.

Room 7: This is the lair of the Spidersnake. The room has no obvious features upon entering. However, it is bisected by the web of the spidersnake, and anyone attempting to move from one door to the other will become tangled.

The spidersnake itself rests in a web funnel it made in the ceiling of the room. Among the bodies in this funnel the players can find 40 sp, 8gp, and a sword whose blade always seems to be covered in a thin layer of green slime. This is a Sword of Rotbane, which sets fire to any undead it successfully strikes.

Room 8: A statue on the Western wall stretches an arm straight out, pointing at a spot on the floor. The statue wears a crown. If the base of the statue is inspected, the players will find writing which reads only “The Pretender.”

Any player who kneels before the statue will cause a crossbow bolt to fire from the tip of the pointing finger.

Stairs: The dungeon descends further down…though to what I have not yet determined.

Deadly Dungeons 21: Firebelly Statue

Built into the wall is a huge iron statue of a man’s torso. The man’s pot-belly starts at the floor, and the man’s head meets the ceiling at eye level. His massive hands grip tightly to the floor, which is indented and twisted to fit around his clasping fingers.

There is a large opening in the belly of the statue, with a fireplace inside of it. Preferably this statue would be used in an inhabited area, so that the players can first encounter it with a fire blazing. This isn’t necessary, however the puzzle will probably be more difficult to figure out if there’s not an active fire.

At the base of the iron statue is an engraving, apparently an epitaph for whomever the statue depicts.

May the world never forget the name of Elric Warmaker. So skilled in war that he came to be called the man of the iron skin, for no wound would scar his body. He fought with a fire in his belly, and united all the peoples of the Uklik.
The gods had given him more than a warriors gifts, for in peace he spoke with a silver tongue. He won twice as many wars with his words as he ever did with stone and steel.

Though the mouth of the statue does not appear unusual upon viewing, it in fact is on very discrete hinges. Having been undisturbed for centuries, though, these hinges are quite stuck. The only way to open the mouth would be with a crowbar, or other lever instrument. Within the mouth is a silver tongue the size of a grown man’s torso. The value is not high as a piece of art, but such a large amount of silver is worth plenty on its own!

Lifting it might be difficult though.

Deadly Dungeons 20: Dancing Skeleton Room

There is nothing tricky about the dancing skeleton room.

Nor is there anything deadly.

Nor even is there anything dangerous.

No map has been provided, because the room is both extremely plain, and extremely variable. It may be any shape or size, and have any number of doors. Its features may be entirely plain, or if you wish, the room may have wooden floors and mirrors on all of the walls. The only important element of the room is that it be large enough to support a large number of medium creatures. I’ve used 50-100, though larger or smaller groups may also work.

Upon opening the door to the room, the players are greeted with a truly bizarre sight. Droves of skeletons are dancing in unison. Graceful, energetic, wild dancing, with occasional maneuvers which could never be performed by a body with muscles and ligaments. One style of dance flows seamlessly into another, and no dance ever repeats.

The skeletons will ignore the players unless the players interact with them. If the players dance with the skeletons, the skeletons will gather around them and emulate the player’s movements. If the player sings, the skeletons will try to sing backup–though their voices are a high pitched screeching which can’t enunciate words very well at all. The skeletons will be intrigued by anything which involves new and exciting ways to dance. And that is all they care about. If the players propose a dance competition, the skeletons will gleefully participate. But the winner will quickly grow bored of their prize once they run out of ways to dance with it.

If at any point the skeletons do have reason to perform an action, they will dance while they do it. Even tied up, a skeleton will find a way to rhythmically wiggle in their bonds. The only time the skeletons will stop dancing is if the players deal damage to one of their number. In this event, the skeletons will wail and cry in their high pitched screeching. They will flee from the players, and cower in the corner as far from their attackers as they can. Once they have been attacked, they will not dance again. If the player returns to this room after some time has passed, she will find the skeletons standing nearly motionless, shifting sadly from one foot to the other.

These skeletons provide no experience points.

Merciless Monsters 13: Simonlefera, or "Cricket Wizard"

I’ve always hesitated to share the monsters I make for my games, because I believe monsters require art in order to be communicated clearly. Previous entries in the Merciless Monsters series have either relied on finding an image which looks kinda-sorta like what I imagine in my head, or on my ladyfriend’s marvelous art. If I had my way, she’d illustrate all of my posts, but she has this whole “life of her own” which gets in the way of that.

By now, though, I’ve accumulated quite a bestiary of monsters I created for fun or for my personal use It seems a shame not to share them, so I’m going to experiment with subjecting you all to my own doodles of my monsters. I’m sorry for the general lack of quality this will probably lead to. (Though, truth be told, I’m quite happy with how this one turned out).

Simonlefera are unnatural creatures, and no one is quite certain where they come from. They’ve been observed congregating around areas of profound magical energy–or places where such energy is later discovered. No mating rituals have ever been recognized, nor have the dissected bodies of the creatures revealed any obvious reproductive organs. Some scholars have suggested that Simonlefera may be proof of the long-discredited theory of spontaneous generation. Lacking any other hypothesis, this idea has begun to gain some traction.

In appearance, simonlefera resemble a bald human head with tough, rubbery skin. From where a normal human’s head would have ears, the Simonlefera has a massive pair of legs which resemble the hind legs of a grasshopper. When laid flat, these legs can be as much as 12ft long! These legs are used for moving quickly, and jumping as much as 30 times the creature’s height. Four smaller legs sprouting from the underside of the ‘head’ provide stability for forward motion. These legs can also cling to walls, allowing the Simonlefera to climb them as a spider does.

The eyes, while small and mounted much as a human’s eyes are, are multi-faceted like the eye of an insect. From the lower jaw grow two weak, spindly arms ending in 3-fingered hands. While capable of significant dexterity, these hands are largely useless. They seem to exist primarily as a means to interact with magic, though they are also used when the creature eats. Finally, from the creature’s chin grows what appears to be a long beard which drags across the ground. In fact this is a sensory device. It allows the Simonlefera to sense vibrations in the ground, replacing the functionality of the ears.

Bodies, or body parts from a simonlefera can often be sold to a wizard for a very good price. Various parts of their anatomy are of immeasurable use in magical research.

In terms of diet, simonlefera primarily sustain themselves on small mammals, such as rats, mice, rabbits, or ferrets. However, if need be, any meaty animal of this size will suffice, such as a frog or small bird. In addition to this diet, it is speculated that simonlefera also sustain themselves by drawing upon magic. None which have been removed from areas of strong magical energy have ever survived for more than a day; after which their head appears to “deflate.”

The most notable aspect of the simonlefera is their ability to use magic. This appears to be a natural trait, and draws on no known source of magical power. They are often able to cast both arcane and divine spells (though all of their magic use in fact registers as arcane). And as they grow older, their spell repertoire becomes even more diverse. While most of them can only access the most mundane spells, there appears to be no limit on their ability to cast. And when working in groups, even a skilled adventurer can be overwhelmed.

Despite their appearance, Simonlefera are not intelligent creatures. The chittering sounds they make do not have linguistic content.

Simonlefera

You hear a strange chittering sound, and what appears to be a human’s head on insect legs hops into view.

Simonlefera; CR 3; [Aberration] [Near Leylines] [Diurnal]

XP: 800
N Medium Aberration
Init +8; Senses Perception +10

DEFENSE

AC 16, touch 11, flat-footed 6 [10 + Dex(4) + Natural(2)]
HP 12 (4 HD, 4d6 + 0)
Fort +6 Ref +10 Will +10;

OFFENSE

Speed 50ft Climb Speed 20ft
Melee Kick + 7 (2d6 + 2) [May only use this attack on opponents behind it]

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Natural Caster(Su) Each time a Simonlefera gains a new hit die, it also gains access to a new spell which can be cast at will. The spells are determined randomly from the lists below. Any duplicate entries should be re-rolled.

Levels 1-4: 1. Cause Fear, 2. Cure Light Wounds, 3. Doom, 4. Inflict Light Wounds, 5. Obscuring Mist, 6. Shield, 7. Magic Missile, 8. Mage Armor, 9. Sleep, 10. Reduce Person, 11. Shocking Grasp, 12. True Strike
Levels 5-8: 1. Acid Arrow, 2. Summon Swarm, 3. Web, 4. Hideous Laughter, 5. Darkness, 6. Gust of Wind, 7. Scorching Ray, 8. Blur, 9. Cure Moderate Wounds, 10. Hold Person, 11. Sound Burst, 12. Inflict Moderate Wounds
Levels 9-12: 1. Bestow Curse, 2. Contagion, 3. Cure Serious Wounds, 4. Inflict Serious Wounds, 5. Meld to Stone, 6. Stinking Cloud, 7. Deep Slumber, 8. Fireball, 9. Lightning Bolt, 10. Gaseous Form, 11. Blink, 12. Haste

Jump(Ex): Using its powerful hind legs, the Simonlefera can easily leap as high as 150 feet in the air, and land again safely.

ECOLOGY

Environment Anywhere magic is strong. They often gravitate towards leylines, and such can be found in nearly any environment.
Organization Solitary or cabal (4-8)
Activity Cycle Diurnal
Diet Magical Energies, tiny mammals; Natural Enemies Wizards

Deadly Dungeons 19: Bladesea Sailing Ship

There’s a boat in this room. A big-ass wooden sailing ship resting on the floor of the dungeon.

What the actual fuck?

The walls and ceiling of the room are a massive aquarium filled with sea life, from the green & leafy kind, to the toothy and bitey kind. It is not immediately apparent, but players who observe closely will be able to make out passages in this aquarium which lead out and away–presumably to the sea. The glass walls are not reinforced with magic, but rather, with remarkable feats of structural engineering. So while the glass is quite tough and won’t be shattered with a single blow from a hammer, it’s still possible to break it using mundane means. If that occurs, this room, and likely the entire dungeon, will flood.

The only horizontal entrance to this room opens onto a small 10x10ft alcove in the wall. If players step to the edge, they will see that the actual floor of the room is roughly 15 feet below where they are now. A wooden bridge long enough to reach the deck of the ship hangs from a crane on the ceiling. Unfortunately, it’s currently about 20ft higher than the surface of the entrance platform, and the lowering mechanism can be plainly seen on the deck of the ship, near the wheel.

The floor of the room has been painted blue, and is covered in dozens upon dozens of slits which run parallel to the ship. From these slits, massive 5ft diameter saw blades rise and fall in a rolling pattern, with each blade rising from its slit only after the one before it in line has reached its apex and begun to recede. This creates the image of a rolling sea of steel blades. By studying the pattern of movement, a player could easily run across the floor safely. However, at best they’d only have one chance to climb up the sheer 15ft side of the wooden boat before they were reduced to bloody chunks by the sea of steel.

The ship itself does not appear unusual in any way, save for its location here in the dungeon. There is a wheel for steering, a deck, masts with sails which are currently tied. The floor of the room has a “pocket” in it, shaped particularly so as to keep the ship upright. I have refrained from populating the ship, as there are simply too many interesting possibilities. I personally like the idea that someone wealthy and powerful created this room simply to use the ship itself as an office or dining hall, with kitchens and stores below decks. It might also serve as an excellent treasure chamber, or prison. I leave the specifics up to you.

One thing I will note is that while the entrance is the only horizontal way into or out of the room, there are two vertical exits. One is a trapdoor on the ceiling just above the main mast. It can be seen easily by anyone who looks up, as it stands in contrast to the aquarium. The other is a trapdoor in the bowels of the ship which leads to a room further down. This trap door is not secret, but it is concealed by barrels full of grog.

When Ginny Bo Fails a Morale Check

A few months back, in Vaults of Pahvelorn, my character Eriara’s apprentice died. It was really too bad, he’d shown a great deal of promise (took out an entire flock of pegasi)! but ultimately succumbed to one of the most ancient sources of character death: a large rolling stone. We weren’t even able to recover his hat.

I told the mighty Brendan that Eriara would like to search for a new apprentice. As she’s only 12 herself, I noted that I’d very much prefer a young apprentice. Someone who wouldn’t have any problems taking orders from a child. Brendan did some rolling, and informed me that the only hireling available was an 86 year old man.

I was…annoyed.

I wasn’t upset or even really frustrated, mind you, but annoyed. I had gotten the exact opposite of what I wanted, and since magical healing in Pahvelorn has a small chance to age your character by 1 year, this 86 year old bastard may well die of old age. I understand that in this form of play, we give dice the power to tell us how the world exists. Sometimes it doesn’t exist in a way which is advantageous to us. I embrace that, but it doesn’t mean I’m always happy about what I get.

I took him, because he was the best I could get. I dubbed “Ginny Bo” because it sounded ridiculous and I wanted to make this imaginary person feel bad about being my only option. I didn’t train him as a magic user. I intended to use him merely as a torch bearer until we got back to our home town where I could search for a proper hireling. But then something started happening.

I don’t remember if it was Brendan, or I, or someone else who said it. But it was agreed that Ginny Bo had lived a long and boring life. That he regretted not being more adventurous in his youth. He had decided to jam all of the life he could manage into his last years. This was convenient for me, since I kinda wanted him to die. Using this as justification, I sent him into all manner of dangerous scrapes. And even though he was rarely effective, he somehow managed to end up alive at the end of every session. I began to inject more personality in the character for shits and giggles. Before I started to like him, the rest of the party already loved him. That proved infectious because soon enough, I loved him too.

His adventures at this point are too numerous to recount, but you’ll find hints of them in the ever-lengthening titles he’s given to himself: Ginny Bo of the Devil’s Helm. Wielder of the Black Sword Obynig, called “Butter Steel.” The Giantslayer. The sludgifier of the Great Worm.

All of that is my long, rambling way of leading up to my problem: morale checks. In OD&D, when a player character tells a hireling to do something which places them in particular danger, the GM makes a die roll to determine whether that hireling will obey, or flee. The mechanic is important, because it prevents the player from having a bunch of entirely expendable pawns they can order about without repercussions. But it doesn’t work for Ginny Bo.

The crazy things Ginny Bo does aren’t done because Eriara orders him to do them. He does these crazy things because he’s a glory hound eager to make his mark on the world before he dies. If he were ever to fail a morale check (which he hasn’t yet) and flee from danger, it would break the wonderful illusion of his character which has amused us all so very much. Yet as a GM myself, I wouldn’t ask Brendan to exempt Ginny Bo from the rules for role playing reasons. That’s just not how I like to play.

Fortunately, I came up with a better idea. Last week I got permission from Brendan to draft a random chart. One which will serve as an alternative to mere flight in the event that Ginny Bo ever does fail a morale check. The idea is that while Ginny Bo will never flee from danger, he might become so wrapped up in the adventure that he acts to the detriment of himself or the party.

Here is the chart, as I’ve drafted it. A 1d6 should be rolled in out-of-combat situations (such as dungeon exploration), whereas a 1d12 should be rolled in combat.

Ginny Bo begins to monologue. He rants about his greatness and his achievements.
He opens the nearest door and charges through it heedless of the danger, or charges deeper into the most dangerous looking part of the wilderness.
He attempts an overly complicated maneuver and throws out his back. For the next 3 turns he can’t do much more than walk around and carry a few things.
Ginny Bo realizes HE ought to be the party leader! He begins barking orders at the rest of the party. All of his ideas are terrible.
Falls asleep, probably standing up. He is very old, you know.
Regardless of any need for stealth, he shouts his name and attempts whatever task he was given recklessly. He will probably fail spectacularly.
Ginny Bo drops his weapon and headbutts the nearest enemy. (Probably while wearing the Devil Helm).
He puffs out his chest and taunts enemies. Possibly offering them a “free shot.”
Attempts to perform a Karate-Kid style leg sweep. There is absolutely no power behind it, and he looks like quite a fool impotently kicking at his opponent’s legs.*
Tries to twirl his weapons around in a fancy display of swordsmanship. Drops his weapon.
Tosses aside any armor which can be easily removed and declares “I can take ye’ naked!”
Attempts to tackle opponent and wrestle them on the floor. Regardless of the opponent’s size.

*This may or may not be based on an actual childhood experience.