Lively Locals 9: Peaceful Crossing

Some years ago I was in the southern lands. My expeditions had not been fruitful of late, and I was in sore need of some coin. To tide myself over, I took a job as a bounty hunter. The town I was staying in at the time had been harassed by a group of brigands for several months. They pooled they resources, and offered me a hundred gold coins if I would bring them the heads of all seven bandits. Normally I wouldn’t have taken such a poorly paying job, but my purse was so light by that point that it may as well have been filled with feathers.

I waited until the band attacked once more, then pursued them from a safe distance, with as much subtlety as I could manage. Given their superior numbers, I did not want to face them in an even fight. I hoped to attack them in the night, when they could be caught unawares. Their path led through rocky hills, and into a wasteland of dry, sun-blasted earth. The ground was so flat that it would have been impossible to remain hidden, so I allowed them to pull ahead of me over the horizon, and continued to pursue them by following the tracks their horses left on the ground.

In the late afternoon, I happened to catch a hint of movement at the edge of my vision. I turned to see a pack of large, hungry-looking coyotes stalking me. I had no idea where they’d come from, but it was clear they intended to have my horse and I for a meal. Weary from the long ride and the harsh sun as we were, I knew I didn’t have much of a chance fighting the damned things, so I spurred my horse along and we took off as fast as we could. Which turned out not to be very fast, given our exhaustion. Up ahead of us, though, there was what looked to be a dry riverbed with an old wooden bridge across it. It would be as good a place as any to make a stand, so I made for it with all haste I could coax from my steed.

We made it across the bridge, where I leaped down and drew a dagger and shield. It wasn’t much defense, but at least it would prevent them from completely surrounding me, I thought. I turned and waited for them to pounce on me, but they never did. I could see it in their eyes the moment their forepaws landed on the decrepit wooden planks. Immediately I no longer interested them. They took a few more bounding steps forward, but their focus was lost. They all wandered about for a moment, before moving off together, leaving my horse and I untouched.

I was curious, so I examined the bridge more closely. It was clearly very old, but I was surprised by how sturdy it felt. I tried putting my feet through the boards, and shaking the railings, but nothing budged. Upon closer inspection, much of what I had assumed to be gnarled, worn wood was actually expertly carved with leaves, trees, birds, and other small woodland creatures depicted on the railings and posts. Clearly it had been built when its surroundings were much different. Either that, or whoever built it had a very unusual sense of aesthetic.

I jumped down to the riverbed below, and began digging my hands into the ground to see if I could tell just how long it had been since there was any water under the bridge. The surface was so dry that I had to loosen it with my dagger before I could begin searching at all. I dug perhaps a foot into the ground without encountering anything but dry, dead earth. I was about to give up and move on when I noticed some markings on the bottom of the bridge. They were made with paint, but still clear to see. It was a large circle with half a dozen runes inside of it. I copied it to some parchment I had as best I could, then climbed atop my horse and started to ride back the way I’d come.

Back in town I found a scholar who told me the symbol was an old elven one, meaning “Go in peace,” or “Walking the Path of Nonviolence,” or something else to that effect. It wasn’t until I spoke with her that I realized I had completely forgotten about my pursuit of the bandits after I crossed that bridge.

Hireling Traits

While participating in Brendan‘s weekly OD&D game, Vaults of Pahvelorn, I’ve become enamored of the role hirelings once played in D&D. In Pathfinder, it’s uncommon for a player to seek out an NPC companion. And when they do, they need to take the Leadership feat first. In previous editions of the game, it’s more common for every player to have at least one hireling, while many have several. This makes a lot of sense. From a practical standpoint, one doesn’t need to be a particularly good leader to pay someone to perform basic tasks. All you need is money and a sense of superiority, which adventurers and retail managers both have in spades, AMIRITE?

Despite my respect for the hireling system’s elegance, I’ve noticed a potential weakness in the way they are handled. It’s not a flaw; it doesn’t break the game, nor does it render hirelings less effectual than they ought to be. But it’s an area where I feel as though the presence of hirelings in the game could be strengthened to the game’s benefit. Namely, every hireling is a robot that does what it’s told except when a completely random die roll determines that it should do otherwise. They have no personality to them which makes them individual or interesting, despite the fact that players often try to ascribe personalities to them.

To my understanding, Hirelings in OD&D are handled very simply. (Bearing in mind that I don’t actually know how hirelings are handled in Vaults of Pahvelorn. The machinations of loyalty are kept hidden from the players). When the player character orders a hireling to attempt something which the hireling might object to, the GM rolls against a “loyalty score” which the player has earned with that NPC. On a successful roll, the hireling will do what they are told. On an unsuccessful roll, the hireling will refuse the order. It’s a simple and effective means to differentiate between the PC (which the player controls directly) and the Hireling, which is an NPC that the player can only control indirectly.

In my weeks playing Vaults of Pahvelorn, however, I’ve noticed that my fellow players and I often try to impart personality traits on our hirelings. They’re not quite members of the party, but we still view them as more than cannon fodder. I suppose the closest analogue you might draw is that the players view their hirelings as pets. They want to get to know them a little bit, and the simple nature of the loyalty score doesn’t allow much leeway.

I propose a random chart which defines a hireling’s personality. Not in a role playing or aesthetic sense, as -C has already covered that exhaustively and there’s really nothing more to be said on the matter. Rather, this chart would define personality on a mechanical scale. A character’s fears are going to make them less willing to engage in certain kinds of questionable activities, while they may feel more confident about others. To demonstrate what I’m talking about, below is a sample chart which I’m sure could be expanded and improved upon. Each personality trait is the result of two rolls:

Roll 1d6

(1) The character is terrified of… (Takes a -3 penalty on loyalty rolls associated with…)
(2-3) The character isn’t comfortable with… (Takes a -1 penalty on loyalty rolls associated with…)
(4-5) The character is pretty comfortable with… (Receives a +1 bonus on loyalty rolls associated with…)
(6) The character happy with… (Receives a +3 bonus on loyalty rolls associated with…)

Edit: Brendan has pointed out to me that OD&D loyalty checks are made using 2d6, not 1d20. Oops! I’ve modified the bonuses and penalties to work better with that number range. That’ll teach me to try and write a homebrew for a game I’ve never GM’d!

Roll 1d20

(1) Being left alone in to stand guard in a dangerous place.
(2) Being sent ahead to scout in a dangerous place.
(4) Magic and Magic Users
(5) Religion
(6) Fire
(7) Darkness
(8) Undead
(9) Monstrous Humanoids
(10) Insects
(11) Demons and Devils
(12) Evil
(13) Lawbreaking
(14) Near death experiences
(15) Being asked to participate in battle with a ranged weapon.
(16) Being asked to participate in battle with a melee weapon.
(17) Dangerously cold weather.
(18) Dangerously hot weather.
(19) Large scale battles.
(20) High places

The GM could roll for an individual hireling as many times as they like, ignoring any contradictory results on subsequent rolls. The GM is also strongly encouraged to work a hireling’s trait into their personality. For example, a hireling who is comfortable with fire might have been part of the fire fighting volunteer squad before they joined up with the party. If they’re happy to confront fire, then perhaps they’re even a little unstable, with pyromaniacal tendencies.

There are some potential problems with this idea. Aside from complicating a simple system (and thus, potentially, making it less effective) it adds to the amount of information the GM will need to keep track of. I do like the idea, though, and I’d be curious to hear other’s thoughts on it. I’m particularly curious what oldschool GMs think, since my only experience with OSR gaming is as a player.

Lively Locals 8: Hero's Rest

If you visit the town of Everbrook, there is a sight you ought to see. Follow the stream which runs through town upriver, and you’ll come to a crumbling watchtower near the town’s edge. Behind it is an overgrown path leading up into the hills. The trees here grow large, and broad, blocking out all but the occasional trickle of sunlight. You may need a lantern to follow the path, even at noon on a bright summer’s day.

The climb is steep and winding, but the path never strays far from the stream, so you’ll have plenty of water to slake your thirst. A mile or so up, you will happen upon a clearing. It’s the only spot for miles, aside from Everbrook itself, where the sun shines through the dense tree cover. The southern edge of the clearing drops off suddenly, and if you stand on the edge you can see a rolling ocean of thick leaves extending as far as human eyes can see.

The clearing is small, no more than 15ft from any point on the clearing’s edge to any other. The stream pools in a tiny pond here, before continuing further up the hillside. There are no insects or animals there, only a profound stillness that makes you keenly aware of every sound you’ve brought with you–your footsteps in the grass, your breathing, your heartbeat.

Beside the water is a tomb; 6ft long, 3ft wide, and 3ft high. It is made of local stone, and somehow seems more at home than I would have thought a man made object could be in such a profoundly natural place. Its surfaces are covered in ornate carvings, depicting great battles, and slain demons. The side of the tomb which faces towards the water, and out over the trees, bears the only word, written in common.

“Hero”

If you were to ask anyone in town where it came from, none of them could give you an answer. They say that the town’s founders only discovered it several years after settling in the area, and no one has ever found out where it came from, or how long it has been there. Most of the townsfolk have visited the Hero’s Rest at least a few times. It is a solitary experience for them, one of solemnity and contemplation. Specific beliefs and traditions regarding the site vary from person to person, but every last citizen of Everbrook agrees that Hero’s Rest deserves reverence.

No one has ever opened the tomb, nor would the people of Everbrook ever willingly allow someone to do so–though they do not guard the site and could not stop a determined thief. Nor are they eager to learn of who was lain to rest there. Whoever that person was, the town of Everbrook embraces them.

Whoever that person was, they were a hero.

(Un)Lively Locals 7: Lilbr, Village of the Dead

Thirty years ago, the town of Lilbr was utterly commonplace. It wasn’t deep in the wilderness, nor was it convenient to any large cities. Its people were not renowned for any great craft or service. They lived unremarkably, and no one paid them any mind.

Then a virulent diseased spread rapidly throughout the land, touching every community. Its victims died horrible, retching deaths. Many attempts were made to cure it, but they seemed powerless to stop or even delay the spread of the terrible malady. Like an avatar of death, it killed the ones it chose for itself, and ignored the rest completely. Even those who tried to keep themselves completely separated from society had no luck escaping the scourge of what came to be known The Death Cough, after its distinctive first symptom.

The disease raged for only three months, but in that time it nearly halfed the size of most communities. Some towns were reduced to a tenth of their previous population. Everyone was scared, and mourning, and many towns were abandoned because their devastated citizenry could no longer support themselves. It took a few months before people started to realize that in all the shuffling, no one had heard anything, from anyone in Lilbr.

Scouts were sent to investigate. They discovered what everyone had feared. Not a single person in Lilbr had been left alive. Upon inspection, no new graves were found. There was no indication that anyone had taken the time to bury any of the numerous bodies curled up in their homes and in the streets. It was apparent that the Death Cough had afflicted all the people of Lilbr at the same time, and had not spared anyone as it had elsewhere. Even the livestock were seen curled up and motionless, apparently dead from the disease which had only been observed affecting humans before.

With the threat of the disease still fresh in everyone’s minds, no one even dared bury the bodies. That would require being near them for far too long. Instead, it was agreed that no one should approach within 20 miles of Lilbr until 10 years hence. The number was arbitrary and unscientific, but to the farmers and other peasant folk who made up the surrounding villages and towns, it seemed like a safe bet.

Signs were posted warning travelers away, and indicating safe detours. For a decade, no one set eyes on Lilbr. And when the 10 year quarantine finally drew to a close, the emboldened villagers sent a small band to purge the village. They were to bury the bodies—no doubt skeletal by now—and burn the buildings and fields. The band returned three days later, each of them as pale as death. They said there were no bodies to bury, because the dead of Lilbr walked the streets as though they were alive.

Fearing the worst, a party of adventurers was hired to investigate further. They found that, indeed, the people of Lilbr had been raised as zombies. But even the adventurers, widely traveled though they were, had never seen anything quite like what the town had become.

While on the surface the town appeared to be overrun by completely average zombies, the adventurers discovered them to be anything but. For one thing, they did not attack the living on sight. In fact, they completely ignored the adventurers until the group destroyed one of the shambling corpses. When they did that, every zombie in town immediately attacked, and the adventurers thought for sure they would be devoured by the sudden onslaught. But the moment they stepped outside the city limits, all pursuit ceased. The zombies stopped running, picked up the remains of the one who had fallen, and went about their business. Stranger still, the following day, the adventurers saw the same zombie they had destroyed walking about as though nothing had happened! That shouldn’t be possible. A destroyed zombie cannot be reanimated a second time, it is common knowledge.

Still more strange, the adventures noted that the zombies did not mill about aimlessly as mindless creatures are apt to do. They seem to be living the same lives they had before the plague came.The farmers farmed, the millers milled, the children played, and friends stood around chatting with one another. It would be an idyllic scene, if the participants were not dead. The running children moved in a stilted, rigor-mortised shamble, and every conversation was nothing but guttural noises produced by lungs and throats which no longer functioned as they were designed to.

Unsettled by this news, the surrounding villages began to empty. No one was comfortable living near such a horrifying place. It wasn’t long before the village of the dead was surrounded by a dozen ghost towns. Occasionally, a group of paladins have taken it upon themselves to destroy Lilbr, and rid the world of its foul mockery of life. Many died trying, unprepared for the vicious coordination of the zombie counterattack. And before a more organized force could raze the town, necromancers began to arrive from all over the world.

Lilbr was unique. An absolutely unparalleled opportunity to study naturally occuring necromatic phenomena. Every powerful necromancer in the world wanted to be a part of it. Many went so far as to build their towers within sight of the town, forming a very loose coalition. They quickly noticed something the adventuers had failed to recognize: each zombie’s actions are exactly the same nearly every day. Down to the number of steps taken and the tones of the guttural conversations. Very occasionally, once, or perhaps twice a year, the zombies deviate from their routine. For a day, everything is different. They have a festival, or a trial, or a war. So far none of these odd days have repeated themselves, and no one is quite sure what they represent.

Entire towers have been filled with tomes pertaining to the bizarre puzzle of Liblr. To this day, no one actually knows what is going on.

Merciless Monsters 7: Fotavyon

The Fotavyon is a huge reptilian creature which lives primarily near swamps and bogs, or occasionally around underground pools. When standing on all four of its spindly, almost spider-like limbs, the creature is about 8ft tall, and 20ft from nose to tail. It is covered in hard scales, with small groupings of feathers on certain areas of its body. The coloring and location of these feathers is unique to each fotavyon, sometimes lining the jaw or forming a crest on the head, or even covering the entirety of the tail. The only feathers which are consistent for each fotavyon are the ones on the the creatures legs, which flay black like vestigial wings. These do not allow the creature to fly, but it does sometimes use them to leap, or to flap threateningly at an intruder while emitting a deafeningly loud, chrip-squawk sound.

Fotayvons have an elongated jaw, with numerous rows of teeth, and eyes mounted on the sides of their head. Their body is lean, and ends in a strange tube-like tail, with a large orifice on the end of it. The creatures four legs are lean and muscular. While at rest, these limbs orient upwards from the creature’s body, and are turned down at the elbow, with long forelegs so they can reach the ground. Each of the four legs ends in a three fingered claw with an oppasble digit, allowing Fotayvons to pick up objects and manipulate them as a human would, though they lack the intelligence to make use of this ability to make tools or other objects. Though they have occasionally been known to improvise crude weapons such as clubs or stones.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this species is that all of its members are female. Or, more accurately, the females of the species are the only ones anyone is likely to recognize as a living creature. The males of the species are microscopic organisms which live in a slimy substance which is excreted whenever the creature lays an egg from the orifice on its tail. When the egg hatches, the newly born female eats this slime for sustenance, and in doing so, also consumes the fotayvon males. The microscopic creatures then live as parasites within their mate’s stomach for the rest of her life.

The digestive process of the fotayvon female creates a large amount of noxious, poison gas. An interesting aspect of the fotayvon anatomy is that this gas is expelled not directly through an orifice, but is instead placed within the creature’s unfertilized eggs, which it must constantly produce in order to siphon off this gas. The unfertilized eggs are under immense pressure from this gas, and if an egg is cracked, the gas will tear the egg apart quickly. Once exposed to oxygen, the gas ignites, and expands rapidly. Occasionally, however, one of the fotayvon males will travel to the egg sac of its mate, and enter one of its eggs. The male then dies, releasing a chemical which neutralizes the dangerous gas, as well as fertilizing the egg.

Fotayvons typically bury their eggs, if it is possible, leaving only a small part of it exposed for the potential child to climb out of. Most fotayvon lairs are surrounded by a small field of slime and mostly buried eggs. The fact that 99% of these eggs are explosive prevents most predators from attempting to eat the eggs, and surroundings its lair with what is essentially a minefield is the fotayvon’s best defense against aggressors.

Fotavyon

Moving on spider-like legs, a reptilian creature approaches, ruffling the feathers that cover its body menacingly.

Fotavyon; CR 10; [Aberration] [Wetlands, Caves] [Temperate/Warm Climate] [Diurnal Cycle]

XP: 9,600
N Huge Aberration
Init +11; Senses Darkvision 60ft, Perception +11

DEFENSE

AC 19, touch 15, flat-footed 12 [10 + Dex(7) – Size(2) + Natural(4)]
HP 116 (11 HD, 1d10)
Fort +8 Ref +14 Will +4;

OFFENSE

Speed 100 ft. Climb 40ft. Swim 20ft (Water’s surface only)
Melee +22/+17 Bite (2d8)(Piercing)(May choose to grapple on successful bite attack)
Melee +22/+17 Slam (2d6)(Bludgeoning)
Ranged +17 Egg Hurl (5d6)(2d6 splash)(40ft)(Fire Damage)(Noxious Cloud)

STATISTICS

Str 33 Dex 24 Con 16 Int 2 Wis 13 Cha 08
BAB +10/5; CMB 32; CMD 39
Languages None
SQ Quick Initiative, Egg Hurl, flying leap

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Quick Initiative +4 to Initiative Rolls
Egg Hurl Once per day, the Fotavyon expels an egg through its tail orifice. If in combat, it can make a ranged attack to attempt to hurl one of its eggs at an attacker. An egg created during the stress of combat will never be fertilized.
Flying Leap Using its feathered limbs, a fotavyon can make impressive flying leaps, easily covering distances of up to 50ft with a single bound.
Explosive Eggs When a fotavyon’s egg explodes, it deals 5d6 damage to anyone standing within 5ft of it, and 2d6 damage to anyone standing within 10ft of it. This damage is from the flames and pressure of the gas expanding and igniting. After the initial explosion, a cloud of fumes is left in a 15ft radius from the egg’s location. Anyone who ends their turn in these fumes will be paralyzed until they are taken out of the fumes and given a turn to rest, or until the fumes dissipate 10 rounds later. The fotavyon will often attack this paralyzed character first.
‘Mine’ field The slime covering a fotavyon’s egg field is harmless in and of itself. It is slightly slippery, but not enough to cause any penalties.

ECOLOGY

Environment Wetlands, or dank caves. They enjoy moist, cool environments.
Organization Solitary
Activity Cycle Fotavyons are diurnal, so they function during the day and sleep at night.
Diet Fish, small mammals; Natural Enemies Dragons, occasionally.
Treasure Typical

Colorful Characters 21: Margo Waggletongue

Note: Margo is my dead PC from Brendan’s Vaults of Pahvelorn game. Since I’m taking some significant liberties with the setting, I avoided any direct references to locations or characters. But I still wanted to give credit where it is due.

Margo was born in a land where learning was scarce, and magic was feared. Books were more rare than gold, and far less valued. Margo didn’t have much of either growing up. All Margo had was something so common as to be nearly worthless: ambition. He knew from his teen years, without any doubt, that he was destined to become the greatest wizard the land had seen in centuries.

That ambition manged to catch the attention of a middle aged magician who was willing to teach Margo the basics of the magical arts. But the sum knowledge of his mentor’s entire life was not enough to slake Margo’s thirst for magical powers. By the time he was in his early twenties, he had determined that the only way he would ever achieve his goals would be to recover lost magical knowledge himself. He would delve beneath the earth, into forgotten dungeons left behind from greater civilizations long past. He would find the journals and tomes of the greatest wizards who had ever walked under the sun, and he would learn their secrets. He would surpass them, and he would be remembered for all time.He would have a tower filled with ancient tomes, and young wizards eons from now would learn spells such as “Margo’s Floating Tentacle,” or “Margo’s Black Disk,” or his favorite idea, “Margo’s flinging roof tile.”

Margo found a party to adventure with. Ruffians searching for something as paltry as gold. Margo had use for treasure, but only as financing to further his quest for power. But that suited Margo just fine. The last thing he needed was someone else vying for the tomes he sought. And his companions were no less ambitious than he was; they had no time for smaller expeditions, and the promise of only small rewards. The group traveled immediately to the dreaded pit, where countless adventurers had been lost before them. They boldly descended to one of the numerous entrances to that labyrinth beneath the earth. At first, everything seemed to go well for the group. They cleverly avoided deadly traps, defeated terrifying monsters, and aside from a scratch, a bruise, and a gutted hireling, no one was any worse for wear. They grew more confident, daring to delve ever deeper into the vaults, without losing the caution which had kept them alive this long. Everything went well.

Until they encountered the Necromancer.

The party was actually successful in that battle. They slew the necromancer before he could cast any of his more powerful spells, and were able to flee the scene before the numerous undead were able to devour them. But unfortunate Margo took a blow to the head from a skeleton’s fist, and fell to the ground unconscious. By the time they realized he was missing, his companions assumed their magic user was long dead.

In fact, Margo was taken by the undead, and dragged before a necromancer named Turlok The Unrestful. He offered Margo the chance to join him. He could study the powers of necromancy as Turlok’s pupil, to replace the one Margo and his companions had killed. Turlok even told the young magic user of the great army of undead monsters which had been sealed beneath the ground. Monsters he intended to unearth, and control. All the young mage needed to do was join him, and he too could command legions of the fearsome monsters, as Turlok’s vassal. Margo was tempted, the opportunity to study under a true master of the magical arts was all he had thought he wanted. But he was not so narrow minded as to be devoid of morals. Margo refused the necromancer, and in turn was sent to join the throng of slaves in digging tunnels.

Margo lost track of the time he spent in the dark tunnels, slaving alongside other captured adventurers. It would have been easier and cheaper to just kill them and raise them as skeletal diggers, but they surmised that Turlok enjoyed watching them slowly die from exhaustion and malnutrition, only to then raise them to serve as overseers to their former fellows. Escapes were attempted from time to time, but the labyrinthine, pitch black tunnels offered little hope for those who escaped. The only way out anyone could be sure of was back towards Turlok’s citadel, but that was even more suicidal than the tunnels were. After a few months, Margo didn’t even bother his mental exercises any longer. Magic had failed him, and he could die without its help.

It took years, but the diggers did finally reach the magical barrier holding the army of undead at bay. Dutifully, they cleared around it, opening enough space for Turlok the Unrestful to begin the dispelling rituals needed to unleash his hordes. As they cleared, they saw the monsters on the other sides clawing at them, waiting for a chance to tear them piece by piece.

Turlok arrived alone, looking about as gleeful as a Necromancer ever can. He began to scrawl a meticulous circle in the dirt. With the digging complete, Margo watched him quietly, waiting for his doom. The mad wizard’s bent form was detailing each rune with ominous precision. Margo looked down at his hands. They had been capable of such delicate work once. Now all they were good for was swinging the pickaxe he held.

Margo blinked. He looked around, confused. Then he stepped forward, and buried the pickaxe into Turlok’s brain. It was simple. Stupidly simple.

Without direction, the skeletal overseers began to attack their wards. But their attacks were random, and disorganized. The skeletons standing far enough away didn’t even seem to notice, merely wandering off aimlessly into the blackness. A few prisoners were killed, but the rest fled back towards Turlok’s citadel. From there it took them several weeks and a few more lost companions to find a route to the surface, but that was it. They were free.

His taste for magic lost, Margo staked a claim on a few acres of land to farm not far from the town he and his companions had supplied in years before. He even learned that they had become successful adventurers, and upstanding members of the community. But he did not go to see them. He didn’t need to. He was content just being under the sun again.

Margo Waggletongue (CR 4)
XP: 1,200
Male Human Wizard 1/Commoner 8
N humanoid
Init +2; Senses Perception +5
Note: Margo’s history has led to him losing many of the abilities which would normally be entitled to.

Defenses

AC 8, Flat Footed 10, Touch 8 [10 + Dex(-2) ]
hp 37 (9d6 + 0)
Fort +2 Ref +0 Will +1

Offense

Speed 30ft
Melee Quarterstaff +5 (1d4 + 1)
Wizard Spells Prepared (CL 1st; Concentration +3)
1st– Shocking Grasp
0 (at will)– Flare, Ray of Frost, Mending
School Evocation
Opposition Schools Necromancy, Divination

Stats

Str 13 (+1) Dex 07 (-2) Con 11 (+0) Int 14 (+2) Wis 09 (-1) Cha 08 (-1)
Base Atk +4; CMB +5; CMD 13
Feats Scribe Scroll, Improved Initiative, Combat Reflexes
Skills Knowledge(Arcana)(+3), Spellcraft(+3), Perception (+5)
Languages Common, Ancient Common, Draconic
Gear Simple leather clothes, 120gp, quarterstaff

Seven Cursed Items for Fun & Profit

Greed’s Guilt – Golden coins of slightly larger than normal diameter, with a small ruby inlaid into a cavity in the center. They appear to be particularly valuable, and are likely worth more than standard gold coins if you can find the right collector for them. These cursed coins were actually made by a church of a goodly and lawful deity, whose clergy wished to punish the sin of greed by crafting an item of obvious value, which harm the owner.

For as long as these coins are within a character’s possession, whether they are currently being held, or are in a bank in the character’s name, the owner is cursed. They must roll a will save each night, with a DC equal to the number of Greed’s Guilt Coins possessed. Upon failure, the character cannot fall asleep by any natural means. They incur all of the penalties which would normally be associated with not sleeping, such as slower traveling speed, fatigue penalties on rolls, and an inability to prepare spells if they are a caster.

If an unnatural means is used to put the character to bed (such as a Sleep spell) then they will succeed in making the character unconscious. However, the sleep will not be restful at all. When they awaken, the character will feel as though no time has passed, and they will still incur all the normal penalties from not sleeping.

The Golden Quill – A fine writing implement, the size of a standard scribe’s quill, with a plume of fine golden strands, and a cap of the finest silver craftsmanship. This is obviously a piece of only the very highest quality, and is doubtless quite valuable. The origin of these quills is unknown, but the most common educated guess is that they were painstakingly crafted in the depths of the Abyss to sow seeds of discord amongst the mortal kingdoms. It is a good guess.

Once every 1d4 days, the possessor of a Golden Quill will use it to pen a letter to some friend or ally. In this letter, they will do everything they can to harm their relationship with that person. They will bring up their friend’s every failing, reopen every old wound, and curse their fellow’s very existence. Once the letter is written, they will do whatever they need to do to have it delivered promptly. If they are in the wilderness, they will store the letter pending their return to civilization. The curse of the Golden Quill allows no saving throw, and the writer of the hurtful letters will have no memory of writing them. Even if the quill leaves their possession, they will continue to ignore the letters hidden in their pack, and will dutifully have them delivered once it is possible.

Boots of Great Movement – A pair of finely crafted boots constructed from red-dyed leather and silk, with an intricate stitching of a wing on each heel. They appear to be luxuriously comfortable, and still very durable footwear. Anyone who wears these boots has their maximum movement speed increased by 15, but finds that they cannot stop moving. Every round, the character must move at least 10ft. The Boots of Great Movement cannot be removed without the use of a Remove Curse spell.

Rod of Lightning – This rod of blue glass appears to be a simple enough magic item. When directed at a foe and waggled up and down, an arc of electricity jumps from its tip to the target, dealing 1d6 damage. Targets are allowed a reflex save, DC 17, to take half damage. The Rod of Lightning is not a fancy magic item, but it does perform its task adequately.

However, if a character carrying the Rod of Lightning on their person is ever outdoors during a storm, then at least once they will be struck by a bolt of lightning from the sky, dealing 10d6 damage. It is likely that this will need to occur twice or more before the character will realize they are not merely the victim of a random occurrence. Even then, it may be difficult to deduce that the rod is responsible.

These devious items were crafted by a group of fundamentalist shamans. They wished to teach a lesson to anyone arrogant enough to think that the elements could be controlled with magic.

The Finishing Blade – This +3 longsword appears black in color, with a green shimmer if held under the light. The weapon deals an additional 3d6 negative energy damage to any target who has less than 20 hp remaining. While this at first appears to be an effective weapon, particularly when fighting against weaker opponents, it–of course–has a drawback.

Any living creature which is slain by this weapon rises as an undead monster precisely one month later. They retain all of the knowledge and abilities which they possessed in life, but gain the “undead” and “incorporeal” subtypes. Beings reanimated by The Finishing Blade’s curse have only one goal: to seek out the one who killed them, and force that person to join them in death. These creatures have a sixth sense which allows them to always be aware of their target’s current position relative to themselves. And they are absolutely relentless in their search.

Scabbard of Protection On one side of this leather scabbard, the material is dyed a deep red, whilst on the other it is a deep blue. The two colors are highlighted with gold, which is intricately shaped around the edges to create a supporting frame. The size and shape of the scabbard will change to suite any blade inserted into it. This is no mere work of mystic artistry, however. It also grants fast healing 1 to any who wear it. Upon strapping the scabbard to their body, an adventurer will immediately feel life flowing into them, and energizing them.

They may not even notice that every damage roll made against them is subject to a +5 bonus while the scabbard is worn.

The Lantern Beneath the Nose No one really understands the design of this lantern when they first lay eyes upon it. At the top, there is a hollow nose shaped from iron. A horizontal handle inside of it allows it to be held not unlike a buckler. Two chains descend from the nostrils, with a small lantern suspended about 1ft down.

Strange as it appears, however, adventurers who discover it are quickly excited by its power. When the handle is gripped, the lantern immediately lights up, and magically fills the entire room the wielder is in with light. Regardless of its size, or the position of objects which would normally create shadows. The entire room is magically illuminated.

As the light fills the room, however, it also casts a spell of greater invisibility upon any creatures of evil alignment.

Merciless Monsters 6: Octorok For Pathfinder

Lately it seems as though all I post about is the Legend of Zelda Adventure System that I’ve been working on. Which isn’t really surprising, I’m inspired to work on it and I don’t have anything else related to tabletop games drawing my attention right now. I enjoy the OD&D game I participate in on Monday but don’t have a lot to say about it beyond that, and it’s been awhile since my Pathfinder group has found time to get together. So when I work on tabletop stuff, it’s focused on the Legend of Zelda.

But I thought that instead of posting another monster constructed with a half-finished monster system, I’d adapt one of the most classic Zelda enemies to Pathfinder: The octorock. It’s a land-based octopus that shoots rocks out of its mouth. Literally, that’s how it was originally conceived. See?

As with all of my recent Zelda work, however, I’m using the Link to the Past as my source. That game’s conception of the creature was a little less silly looking I think. Unfortunately, there is no art for the creature that I am aware of, but I did find this nice image of the game’s sprite:

I’d also like to note that starting with this post, and from now on, I will not be using the ‘proper’ methods for creating monsters in Pathfinder. It takes far too long, and the results are not worth the effort it involves. My monsters will have no skills, nor will they have any feats, nor will they be constructed with painstaking care to ensure that the CR is “accurate.” Personally, I don’t even use the CR anymore, preferring that my players learn the fine art of running away if they encounter something beyond their ability. I’ll still include the most accurate CR I can, but it will be estimated, not calculated.

Pathfinder Octorok

The Octorok is an aberration which makes its home in plains. It is often incorrectly assumed that the octorok prefers plains of dirt, but this is only an illusion. Octoroks often migrate to grassy plains rich in plant and insect life, but they quickly overgraze the land, reducing it to an expanse of dirt where the creatures must forage for worms, beetles, and nutrient-rich soil.

Part of this confusion rises from the assumption that the nozzle on an Octorok’s face is a ‘mouth.’ For lack of a better word, it is in fact a kind of sphincter which the octorok uses to expel waste products. The octorok’s actual ‘mouth’ is an unusual scooping apparatus located on the bottom of its body. Octoroks feed by moving across the ground at high speeds, picking up soil, insects, and plant life as they do so. The octorok’s digestive tract quickly siphons part of this collection into the octorok’s stomach, where it is digested and used to produce energy. Meanwhile, any unneeded food, or inedible substances such as stones, are shunted to the octorok’s colon, where they are coated in an unusual kind of adhesive juice which is actually quite valuable if it can be harvested. This organ shapes the ‘leftovers’ into a solid ball, which the octorok can hurl with some force from its forward nozzle. The ball formed by this process is quite hard, making this hurling ability an effective defense mechanism for the octorok.

While similar in appearance to the aquatic Octopus, Octoroks differ in a number of important ways to help them survive and thrive on land. On close inspection, their eight ‘legs’ more closely resemble the bodies of snakes than they do the suckered tentacles of a cephalopod. While these legs might not seem practical, they actually allow this aberration to move much faster than many larger creatures. Most of the Octorok’s body is also covered by a soft ‘shell’ which protects the creature from most attacks. While this shell is not calcified as a turtle’s shell is, meaning it can be pierced or cut, it is actually much more resistant to cracking, and distributes the force of an impact more effectively. This is a useful ability when traveling in a herd of creatures which are constantly hurling heavy objects around.

Octorok

A dull red creature darts past you on a mass of wriggling legs. A strange nozzle protrudes from its face.

Octorok; CR 2; [Aberration] [Plains] [Temperate/Warm Climate] [Diurnal Cycle]

XP: 600
N Tiny Aberration
Init +9; Senses Darkvision 60ft, Perception +0

DEFENSE

AC 17, touch 17, flat-footed 12 [10 + Dex(5) +Size(2)]
HP 3
DR 3/Slashing, Piercing
Fort +9 Ref +4 Will +5;

OFFENSE

Speed 45 ft.
Melee +2 Slam (1d4)(Bludgeoning)
Ranged +7 Rok Hurl (1d6)(15ft)(Bludgeoning)

STATISTICS

Str 10 Dex 20 Con 10 Int 2 Wis 14 Cha 10
BAB +2; CMB -2; CMD 13
Languages None
SQ Quick Initiative

ECOLOGY

Environment Plains. They prefer grassy plains, but quickly reduce these to large expanses of dirt.
Organization A ‘Tangle’ of Octoroks is usually between 6 and 20. They are rarely seen in smaller groups.
Activity Cycle Octoroks are diurnal, so they function during the day and sleep at night.
Diet Plants, Insects, Earthworms, Nutrient-Rich Soil; Natural Enemies Hawks, Leevers, Most Medium-Large Aberrations
Treasure Typically None

Colorful Characters 20: Melina Ayvon, The Apothocary

Melina Ayvon’s goal in life was to coast by as easily as she could. That’s why she applied to the wizard’s academy in the first place. She thought if she could control the fabric of the universe, everything else would be child’s play. She never anticipated quite how many long hours and sleepless nights were required to master even the most basic cantrips. To Melina’s credit, she wasn’t stupid. She managed to avoid much of the work expected of her for a time, skirting along at the bottom of her class. That couldn’t last forever, though, and before she’d finished her second year at the academy, she was expelled. She cursed the wizard’s college for spurning her, accusing the ruling council of elitism and bias against their slower-learning students.

One of the wizards of the college, an archmage named Edilon, felt sympathy for her. He’d seen her potential, and had felt for some time that the academy’s headmasters were becoming too elitist–though he could not know then that her claim was a selfish one born of humiliation, rather than a reasoned critique. Edilon took his leave of the academy, and went to the young wizard. He offered to tutor her in the mystic arts, and without any better options before her, Melina readily agreed. Over the years they spent together, Edilon showed remarkable patience, and for her part Melina put forth a greater effort than she had in the past. Though she never accepted any responsibility for her expulsion from the wizard’s college, she none the less realized that Edilon was her last chance to learn the mystic arts.

But Melina never tried to change her own nature. She was an immature girl who could not recognize her own flaws, and found no great joy in the study of magic. Though she applied herself, her resolve in this matter was finite. Over time, Edilon came to understand that his pupil’s talent would never be able to compensate for her lack of drive. Still, he pushed her, hoping he could draw a passion for study out of her. His patience only came to an end when he discovered Melina attempting to deceive him. For months the two had worked, trying to teach her a somewhat complicated spellcasting technique. She became frustrated with the time spent on the subject, and attempted to fool her teacher by hiding a wand up her sleeve so she could cast the spell more easily. Furious, and disappointed, Edilon rescinded his offer of tutelage, and cast her out of his tower. As she indignantly stormed away, Melina convinced herself that the old man had wanted her to fail, and so put a problem before her which was too difficult for her to solve.

With nowhere to go, she traveled south from the city to settle in one of the smaller villagers. There the moderate magic she possessed would be prized and feared.

Melina tried to settle in several communities, and they were always happy to have her for a short while. As she had predicted, the villagers were eager to make use of even her limited magical abilities. But it never took long before she found herself unwelcome. Her brash demeanor and privileged attitudes did not engender friendship among the townspeople, and her increasingly exorbitant demands eventually always led to the town asking her to leave. And in the next town, she’d tell stories of the how the last village she’d visited did not appreciate her, and how it was filled with rubes too frightened of a little magic to realize what a benefit she could have been.

It only took a few years for Melina to run out of towns to live in. On the furthest reaches of civilization, she was surrounded by woodspeople and hunters. Gruff folk uninterested in her petty conceits about her own importance, but willing to let her live among them so long as she didn’t bother anyone. The once proud mage set herself up as an apothecary, dispensing herbs and elixirs to the townsfolk, and adventurers who passed through the area.

More than once, Melina tried to join those adventuring parties. Each time she’d board up her shop and brag about the riches she would find, but she’d always be back soon enough. She’d say the party had tried to rob her, or that they’d been incompetent, or didn’t know how to stand away from the spell she was casting. Occasionally she wouldn’t say anything about why she’d left, which was fine, because nobody really cared anyway. She soon gave up on adventuring as well, resigning herself to a life peddling cures for rashes and bald spots. It’s not the easy life she wanted, but it’s the one she got. Sometimes she waxes poetical about how the world has wronged her and how her potential isn’t being realized, but the words are beginning to sound hollow even to her.

Melina Ayvon (CR 1)
XP: 400
Female Human Wizard 2
CN humanoid
Init +2; Senses Perception -1

Defenses

AC 13, Flat Footed 10, Touch 13 [10 + Dex(2) ]
hp 10 (2d6 +4)
Fort +2 Ref +2 Will +2

Offense

Speed 30ft
Wizard Spells Prepared (CL 2nd; Concentration + 5)(+1 Conjuration DCs)
1st– Mount, Summon Monster I, Unseen Servant
0 (at will)– Light, Touch of Fatigue, Mage Hand, Mending
Wizard Spellbook Melina’s spellbook doesn’t contain anything more than what is shown here. Learning more spells than she could prepare would be a waste of her time.
School Conjuration
Opposition Schools Enchantment, Abjuration
Conjurer Abilities
Summoner’s Charm (Su)— Whenever you cast a summoning spell, increase the duration by a number of rounds equal to half of your wizard class level.
Acid Dart(Sp):— 6/day, As a standard action you can unleash an acid dart targeting any foe within 30ft as a ranged touch attack. The dart deals 1d6 + 1 damage. Ignores Spell Resistance.
Arcane Bond: A pair of wings crafted from gold with a sapphire between them, mounted on a golden chain and worn about the neck.

Stats

Str 12 (+1) Dex 14 (+2) Con 15 (+2) Int 16 (+3) Wis 08 (-1) Cha 07 (-2)
Base Atk +1; CMB +2; CMD 14
Feats Scribe Scroll, Heighten Spell, Spell Focus(Conjuration)
Skills Bluff (+0), Craft(Alchecmy)(+8), Knowledge(Nobility)(+8), Knowledge(Nature)(+8), Spellcraft (+8)
Languages Common
Gear Fancy Red Robes, 4 ornate golden rings, 230 gold.

Merciless Monsters V: LOZAS Skeleton and Popo

If you haven’t yet, there’s only today and tomorrow left to fill out the first annual Papers & Pencils survey! It honestly means a lot to me, so if you enjoy the blog, and you have a couple minutes, I would really appreciate your time!

It’s been a long while since I made a Merciless Monsters post. The Draugr were all the way back in March, and my only attempt since then was when I adapted Telecanter’s work in April. For awhile after the Draugr, I avoided writing another MM because they took so damned long to get done. Then I had my big rant denouncing Pathfinder’s complex methods of stat block creation. Since then I haven’t really been sure about how to approach making monsters. I figure I ought to come up with my own style of Pathfinder-compatible statblock which allows monsters to be built faster, but I haven’t gotten there yet.

So instead, I thought it would be fun to waste everyone’s time by working out some of the monsters for my in-progress LOZAS system. Below are two of the monsters which will appear in that game, built using the current iteration of the rules. First is the Skeleton, which I’ve included to serve as a connection between the tried-and-true (skeletons in fantasy RPGs) and the new-fangled (the LOZAS system). The other creature, which I’m currently calling a Popo, is a little more unusual, and to my knowledge hasn’t appeared in a tabletop RPG before.

None of these rules are quite pinned down yet, so these creatures may end up changing before I’m done. I’ve also added some commentary to the statblocks, to explain my reasons for making certain choices. Despite my joke above, I hope you find this enjoyable rather than annoying. The survey isn’t over until tomorrow, but a lot of people have noted that they’d like to read more about my amateur game design.

Skeleton

HP 8
AC 20
Body 10; Agility 26; Wisdom 3
Speed 40
Special Protection: Skeletons take no damage from piercing weapons unless it is a critical hit.
Special Weakness None
Attacks Claw (+5/1dmg); Throw Bone (50ft)(+8/1dmg)
Special Moves

Disengage: As an action, the skeleton may leap straight back 20-50ft. If there is a wall within that range, the skeleton is not harmed by colliding with it, instead gracefully sliding down the wall to land at the bottom.

Stealthy: A sneaking skeleton is able to move with complete silence, and hide itself within deep shadows. While sneaking, a skeleton can move at full speed. While hiding in deep shadows, it must remain still while it is being observed, or it will be revealed.

Description With magically animated joints the skeleton glides silently across the stone floors of a crypt. While the creature was once a person, all flesh and humanity have been stripped from it, leaving only a collection of bones with a fervent desire to harm the living. Skeletons are created either by powerful and evil sages, or by the sheer evil presence of a monster even more merciless than itself.

Tactics Skeletons much prefer to fight from range, breaking off spare bones from their rib cage and throwing them with deadly accuracy. If a skeleton ever ends up in melee range, it will sometimes attack with its claws, but its immediate reaction is to leap straight backward. Skeletons are not very bright creatures. They’re barely more than an automaton, with only a rudimentary understanding of friend & foe, and not much ability to think ahead. Clever players could potentially trick a skeleton into using its disengage ability to take a blind leap into lava, or some other dangerous substance.

Design Notes In this game, the the range of human ability can go as low as a score 2, and as high as a 22. Given that, the skeleton shown here has an average body score, extremely low wisdom score, and supernaturally high agility score. Lacking the constraints of flesh and sinew, skeletons are more flexible and fast than the world’s greatest gymnasts and runners. I’ve never liked the portrayal of skeletons as level 1 cannon fodder, possibly because of my love for the 1963 film Jason and the Argonauts. My hope is to make them a little more menacing in this game.

While individual GMs are free to run the skeleton however they like, obviously, I thought it would be fun to play up the graceful aspect of the skeleton, making it a quick, stealthy foe. I particularly like the idea of skeletons being able to avoid melee range, thus allowing them to force their foes to use arrows–which they are immune to.

Popo

HP 2
AC 12
Body 16; Agility 11; Wisdom 5
Speed 30
Special Protection: None
Special Weakness None
Attacks Constricting Barbs (Auto-hit on entangled foes/1dmg)
Special Moves

Entangle: If a popo enters the same space as a target, then that target becomes entangled. The target cannot move until the popo is either killed or shaken free with a successful agility check. Once entangled, a target is vulnerable to the popo’s Constricting Barbs attack, which does not require any attack roll.

Description ‘A multicolored mass of wriggling tentacles with no other recognizable anatomy” is the simplest way to describe the popo’s appearance. While primarily colored in shades of orange and purple, a popo’s tentacles can fall anywhere on the color spectrum. The creature uses its bright colors and wriggling movements to attract potential predators. Once it is attacked, the popo latches on tightly, extruding small barbs which allow it to draw bloody sustenance from its would-be attacker. Even the strongest or most agile creatures find it difficult to rid themselves of a popo once it has latched on.

Tactics Popos are simple creatures who live in ‘clusters’ which generally range from 4-10. Often, members of a cluster will hunt separately. But when threatened, the creatures demonstrate remarkably unity by gathering together, and moving in union. In doing so, they cover a larger surface area than a single popo would, making it more difficult for attacks to avoid getting their feet entangled.

Design Notes I’m experimenting with mechanics which have ‘absolute’ results in this game. Above, you saw how the skeleton is almost completely immune to piercing weapons (as opposed to Pathfinder, where skeletons have DR/bludgeoning). The popo is another example of a mechanic with an absolute outcome: if the popo enters the same area as a PC, that PC is entangled. No saving throw or chance to avoid it. The player’s best chance to avoid being entangled by a popo is to deprive the monster of the opportunity in the first place.

You might note that all of the attacks mentioned deal a set amount of damage, rather than a dice range. At present, the game uses different rules for monsters and players in this regard. On the one hand, monsters can have any number of HP, and player weapons deal damage using a dice range. Players, on the other hand, start with only 3 HP, which can be increased one at a time by adventuring, and discovering magical items which allow them to resist wounds beyond what a normal human could sustain.

I don’t really like that method very much, but it’s what I’m working with for now.