Tag: Reality is my Sourcebook

Termite Suicide Bombers: How the Animal Kingdom Should Influence Your Game

A new species of termite was discovered recently. That, in itself, is hardly news. New species are discovered all the time, and in fact, I recall hearing that there are many thousands of undocumented insect species in particular. But what makes this species worthy of note is that they explode. No, seriously. When the worker termites grow old, they can fill a cyst on their backs with toxic crystals which have been produced throughout their lifetime. Once the ‘backpack’ cyst is full, it bursts, killing both the termite, and any enemies unfortunate enough to be caught in range of his toxic explosive.

My first thought when I read about these was “Wow, all those video games with exploding insects suddenly have a lot more grounding in reality.”

The scientists who documented this find even released some brief video footage of the phenomena. It’s a little difficult to make out, and it only shows the cyst filling, not exploding. None the less, it’s a fascinating discovery, and one which prompted me to finally cover a subject which I’ve been thinking about for several months now.

Animals are strange. Exploding termites aren’t even the most bizarre creatures I’ve heard of. Did you know that many species of shark fight their siblings to death while still growing in their mother’s womb? Or that some species of hermaphroditic gastropods fight each other to determine which one of them has to be the female? And then there’s shit which just looks strange, like the soft shelled turtle. And for me, the strangest part about these creatures, is that I’ve never seen anything in a tabletop game based on them. The world is filled with potential monsters, all we need to do is make ’em big enough to eat an adventurer.

Angler Fish: I’ve linked before to The Oatmal’s excellent description of the life of a male angler fish, but I’m linking to it again, and if you haven’t read it, you should. Anglers are fascinating, and still very mysterious, creatures. You could base a dozen different monsters off of them, but here I’m specifically interested in the fact that the skin of the female absorbs the male, and uses his remains for reproduction. A Pathfinder monster could do the same thing. Except instead of luring the males of the monster’s species, the creature could instead lure male adventurers. Once their skin touches the monster’s flesh, the contact poison the beast secretes would begin to melt the adventurer, until nothing was left but his testicles. (Or, if you’d like to go more creepy and less vulgar, nothing is left but his expressionless face).

Speaking of angler fish, I just noticed…were they the inspiration for the modern design of the Beholder?

Traumatic Insemination: One of the most interesting things about animals is the way they have sex. Often that’s where the truly unique and bizarre aspects of an animal really come out. I’ve made an effort to avoid filling this list with dicks (which was not easy, let me tell you)! But this one has fascinated me for years, and it translates well to a game.

Essentially, many species of invertebrates do not have external female genitalia. Not even a Cloaca. So since there’s no opening, the male’s phallus makes one. It stabs the female in the abdomen with a sharp phallus, and that’s how insemination is handled. It’s gruesome, kinda disturbing, and a perfect way to fuck with your adventurers. I’m not saying your game should be filled with dagger-dicks (though I did once post a dick-dagger…) but why not have a prehensile blade extending from a monster’s chest, or back? The creature gets an extra attack with it, and upon scoring a critical hit, the monster implants a parasitic larva within the victim, a-la the Alien films.

The Almighty Squid Worm I really don’t have anything specific to say about this creature, or how it acts, or the abilities it has. But I marvel at it’s profoundly alien shape. These are the dreams of a mad god.

The Hagfish: Ocean life is often the most unusual. As humans, we’re at least somewhat familiar with what it’s like to live on land. Legs are a good way to get around, warmth is needed to keep our bodies functional, light is useful to help us understand our surroundings, and so on. Creatures which have adapted to living deep underwater need none of these things. And, as such, serve as perfect inspiration for game masters hoping to create interesting monsters.

The Hagfish is one such creature. For starters, it has a skull, but no column of vertebra. To my knowledge, it is the only known species where this occurs, and that is awesome. But far more interesting to potential monster-creators is its slime. Hagfish can exude insane amounts of slime which reacts with the water around it. If the Hagfish is captured, this slime can clog the gills of an attacking fish, suffocating it. And after it does so, the Hagfish needs to literally tie itself into a knot to clean itself off, restoring its own gill function.

Imagine a creature which could excrete goo which expanded into a foam capable of filling dungeon corridors. Or a giant hagfish which waited until adventurers tried to swim across its pool, only to quickly turn the water around it into a thick gooey substance which is impossible to swim through.

Elephants: A long time ago, Elephants captured the imaginations of the western world. They were huge, majestic, and interesting. And because of the way Elephants captured the imaginations of our ancestors, they had become ubiquitous by the time we were born. While we were growing up, we regularly saw elephants depicted in drawings and cartoons. Most of us even saw them up close at a zoo. I personally, find them somewhat boring.

Then I remember that they have a FUCKING THIRTEEN FOOT LONG, PREHENSILE NOSE. WHAT THE FUCK!?

It’s funny, actually, because I have a difficult time imagining a fantasy creature where such a thing doesn’t look goofy. Yet on an elephant it has a certain majesty, appearing almost regal.

Vampire Squid:Vampire is an acquired template which any intelligent creature can gain if their life force is completely drained by another vampire. But if a mer-person gains the vampiric template, surely they don’t turn into a vampire bat, right? So what do they turn into?

This:

Based on what I’ve read, the Vampire Squid is quite unique. Its order is somewhere between that of a squid and an octopus. It is almost entirely covered in a special organ called a Photophore, which can produce light. The creature can either use a quick flash to disorient attackers, or can sustain its light for several minutes at a time. The vampire squid’s “cape” is covered in spines which, while technically harmless, look quite dangerous. When threatened, it will turn its cape inside out, making itself appear larger, and covered in dangerous-looking spines.

This post could keep going on forever. There are hundreds and thousands of creatures with unusual anatomies or abilities ripe for use crafting monsters. I’m sure the subject will come up again in the future–though someone with a better grounding in biology would probably do a much better job than I can.

Reality is my Sourcebook: Outside

The sun and I are not on good terms.

We’ve got an uneasy sort of détente. It stays out of my realm, and I stay out of it’s. For the most part this works for the both of us. I only need to go outside when travel to work or the game store. But then, all I need do is scurry through the sun’s realm from my front door, to the car door. And since I live in the pacific northwest (the Seattle area) the sun often doesn’t even show up to harass me during that jaunt. Clouds and rain do, but I get along with them just fine.

Then I let a woman with plans to become an ecological scientist move in with me. This was a bad idea. Every so often she drags me, clawing at the carpet, into the natural world. I try to explain to her that the Sun will view this as a breach of our unofficial treaty, but she seems to think that I’m just being melodramatic. Somehow she doesn’t view the sun bombarding me with potentially lethal radiation as proof enough of its malice.

One minor benefit of these harrowing excursions is the inspiration I’m able to draw from them for my games. As I’ve mentioned many times before, reality is filled with amazing facts, many of which can be used as inspiration for gaming. Today I encountered a number of different natural environments at the two nature reserves we visited. And there, I discovered three things which I thought might be fascinating to use in a game.

At the first location we visited, we saw this large space filled with nothing but mud and death. Apparently this area is, naturally, an estuary. Simply speaking, an estuary is a meeting of fresh water and salt water, where rivers reach the sea. When early settlers moved into the pacific northwest, they blocked off the salt water, and used the land around the estuary to create an orchard. The land has since become a nature reserve, though, and the dike blocking the salt water was recently removed. As it flowed back into the landscape, it killed off all of the fresh water plantlife, resulting in this deathlike landscape. In a few years, salt-tolerant plant life will reassert itself. Until then, however, tell me this doesn’t look like a perfect environment for undead to live in? There’s nothing visibly alive out there. Just dead plants, murky water…and mud-caked undead ready to attack foolish adventurers?

As a game master, you really don’t need an excuse to create an environment, since most of your players probably won’t be too picky about how a given environment came about. But if you strive for accuracy, just put an abandoned settlement and a dike that crumbled from age.

It was as we were looking at this creepy landscape that my ladyfriend also took the opportunity to tell me about Bog Bodies, which you should totally check out if you’re a fan of undead stuff like I am.

The second location we visited is apparently somewhat unique to our area, and somewhat mysterious as well! Scientists are not entirely sure what causes the formation of Mima Mounds, which are sort of like tiny hillocks. The tallest are a little taller than an average person (about 7 feet), and they apparently occur primarily in areas of plains/prairie. What I found most fascinating about them, from a tactical perspective, is that they are almost invisible. Since the entire area is a field of grass and small plants, it can be extremely difficult to identify the mounds. In the picture above, they are only clearly apparent because that photograph includes the treeline for them to intersect. Check out this photo where the mounds don’t block your view of the trees. I promise, there are a bunch of mounds in this shot:

This would be an absolutely perfect place for an ambush. Particularly for small creatures like halflings, gnomes, kobolds, or goblins. Four or five of them could hide behind each mound. The small field I visited today could cloak several hundred warriors, all able to appear instantly to charge across the flat ground between the mounds.

Wikipedia has a panoramic image of the field I visited today. It’s almost 12mb so it takes a moment to download, but it’s a pretty impressive view.

Finally, there was this crazy moss. Neither of us was even able to identify it, so I can’t share any solid information on it. It was growing absolutely everywhere on the Mima Mounds, in huge patches as large as 7-8 feet across. It was so prolific we assumed it probably was not actually dead, yet it sure as hell didn’t seem alive. It was completely dry and brittle, crunching under our feet as easily as snow would. And a lot louder than snow would as well. It would be impossible to sneak up on anyone through moss like this.

On a final note, as we were leaving to head home, we met Spiderbro. He was a bro.

The Role of Military History

Someday, I want to get paid for this. Not necessarily for writing Papers & Pencils itself, mind you. I somehow doubt I’ll ever have the readership required to make advertisements a profitable endeavor. But I’d like to make a living off of writing or game design, or some combination of the two. I like to think that putting myself out there with this website is the first step in that quest, even if it is the first step of many I’ll need to take. Another step I’m working on is educating myself. I’m trying to take an academic approach to learning about games and game design. I read and analyze anything which seems as though it will help me  traverse the long road towards a career I can be proud of.

I’ve noticed that many of the most renowned game designers – Gary Gygax, Dave Arneson, Steve Jackson – have been students of military history, and credited that knowledge with helping them in designing games. It seemed only prudent, then, that I should investigate this field of study to see what it had to offer. So while I was grocery shopping this past weekend, I picked up a copy of the June 2012 issue of “Military Heritage” magazine. It seemed like an inexpensive way to take my first glimpse at the subject, to see what I could see.

Most of the magazine deals with more contemporary wars, where firearms are used. Personally I’m much more intrigued in the medieval period, but there is a feature entitled “Fight in the Fog: Vercellae 101 BC,” which is more relevant to my interests. And the modern information is certainly not out of place. In many ways, a war fought with fantasy elements is more like a modern war than a medieval one. Wizards, elven archers, and dragons stand in for heavy artillery, machine guns, and aircraft.

One of the magazine’s regular features, “weapons,” is a fascinating piece on tanks. I won’t attempt to reproduce all of the information here, but the essential tale is about the first time tanks appeared on the battlefield, in World War I. When the British deployed them against the Germans, the Germans were understandably intimidated. The article covers the early German attempts to defeat this new technology, and gauges their success. Some tactics (such as strapping 7 grenades together) were quite dangerous to the soldier attempting to employ them, while others which seemed like a good idea (such as digging hidden pits for tanks to fall into) proved to be completely useless due to unforeseen elements. The article also covers many of the failings of early tanks which gave the Germans a fighting chance. For one, since tanks tended to draw a lot of fire, it was impossible for them to maintain an infantry escort. Another example given is that a foolish engineer once attached a supplemental fuel tank to the armored vehicle’s topside to give it increased range. What he didn’t anticipate is that this additional fuel was vulnerable to enemy fire, and a number of tank crews were incinerated due to that engineer’s poor judgement.

It was when I was reading this article that at least one use for this information crystallized for me. Here are real life examples of people trying new things in dangerous situations, and real life examples of other people trying to counter them. If my players engineered a tank, would my monsters counter with antitank mines, armor piercing bullets, or flooding the battlefield to mire the tanks? They probably should. When players come up with a crazy plan, the GM’s response to it should be just as clever. Because intelligent creatures will always find remarkably inventive methods of perseverance.

The “Fight in the Fog” feature has a lot of similarly relevant information. For example, it describes how  the Roman forces built a bridge across the Po River to provide support to their forward troops, and how their enemy ripped a bunch of trees down and floated them downriver to destroy the bridge. A little later, it describes how the Roman commander modified the design of his army’s spears by replacing an iron peg with a wooden one. This caused the spear to off in the enemy shields, causing the shields to become too unwieldy to use, and forcing the enemy to fight shield-less.

I have not yet read the entire magazine, but if the pieces I’ve read are any indication, this will prove to be not only a useful avenue of study, but a fascinating one as well. And it appears as though Military Heritage is associated with a magazine called Medieval Warfare which may be more my speed. I may well be subscribing to it soon!

May of the Dead: Variant Zombies

I’ve always had a passion for the macabre. In particular, I am very fond of all things pertaining to undeath. My preference tends towards the unsettling majesty of gothic fantasy, but I’m not above enjoying a B horror movie or two. So when I was asked to participate in May of the Dead, I didn’t hesitate. I don’t exactly need an excuse to fill this site with my darker imaginings, but since I have one, I thought it would be a good opportunity to work on a number of undead-themed posts in a row. Each Friday during the month of May, I’ll be animating a new undead-themed post. And if you’d like to read more, there are many other websites participating in this little carnival.

For this first post, I’d like to discuss zombies. Though they lack the elegance of an animated skeleton, and are currently suffering from their severe overexposure in recent years, the zombie is none the less a fundamental fantasy foe. And while the classic shambling cadaver will never go out of style, it is diminished by its own omnipresence. What is a GM to do? How can we inject a sense of danger back into a creature which players have faced so many times that they know the creature’s statblock and abilities like the backs of their character sheets?

We reinvent it.

Part of the reason zombies are so enduring is because they are the most fundamental kind of undead we can imagine. They are dead bodies, which none the less are capable of moving on their own, and want to hurt the living.  You might say that a zombie is a blank slate, waiting to be given the kind of unique attributes which can turn it into a truly memorable monster. Pathfinder has already done this, somewhat. In the Bestiary, the zombie entry contains a small section titled “Variant Zombies” on page 289. Detailed therein are the “fast zombie,” and the “plague zombie,” both of which are pretty self explanatory. The former are faster than normal zombies, and the latter can infect victims with a zombifying disease.  Here are a few other ways I’ve come up with to reanimate your player’s fear of zombies:

Exploding Zombies These have become popular in zombie-centric video games which need a way to ramp up difficulty without straying too far from their core theme. The idea makes a certain kind of sense: when a person dies, their decomposing body creates a lot of gas. Normally this gas is expelled gradually, but if we can stretch our imaginations far enough to accept walking dead in the first place, then we can certainly imagine that all of these gasses somehow end up trapped inside the corpse. Perhaps inside a bloated and distended stomach. This state could be an accidental byproduct of the reanimation process, causing perhaps one in every ten or twenty zombies to become an exploding zombie. Particularly sinister necromancers might create these undead bombardiers intentionally, and unleash a horde of them on an unsuspecting adventuring party.

Pungent Cloud Zombies Speaking of gasses, why limit ourselves to something as ostentatious as an explosion? I find undead are always the most enticing when they’re a little mysterious, and subtle. Those same gasses produced by decomposition could form an oppressive miasma. A single zombie would only effect those standing in adjacent squares, but each zombie reinforces the cloud of fear and despair which surrounds them. A large enough horde might affect anyone standing within a mile of them. Those affected would have their intellects clouded, and their bodies made sluggish. Wizards would find they could not recall their most powerful (read: highest spell level) incantations, and fighters would seem to miss a lot more than they normally would (-5 to attack rolls).

 Slightly Intelligent Zombies Traditionally, zombies are mindless. That’s almost part-in-parcel of what it means to be a zombie. If a necromancer needs a servant which can think, they create a ghoul. A zombie is created when a necromancer needs a large force which will obey them without question. But lets say that a group of zombies is created by an erratic necromancer, or perhaps has no master, but has managed to avoid destruction for years or even decades. Why not give them an intelligence of 2? That’s not enough that they could learn speech, or form any kind of society. But it is enough that they could communicate on a very basic level, and even form simple tactics to better defeat their enemies with.

Somewhat-to-Highly Intelligent Zombies Zombies created by a downright insane necromancer, or who have lived for a century or more, might become as intelligent as you or I. It is unlikely that they would recall, or care to recall, anything about their life, but their intelligence would provide them with a unique advantage in their un-life. It is doubtful that any such zombie could ever be anything but evil, since their continued life depends on negative energy and consuming the flesh of the living. But as villains, they might be truly formidable.

Necrotic Bite Zombie The dangerous nature of a Zombie’s bite is an important element in most zombie fiction. For some reason it’s never really made the leap to game mechanics, leaving Pathfinder zombies to rely on their slam attack. Necrotic Bite Zombies gain a +0 bite attack which deals 1d6 damage. Anyone who is hit by the zombie’s Necrotic Bite must make a fortitude save (DC is equal to 10 +  half the zombie’s HD + the zombie’s cha modifier). If the fortitude save fails, roll 1d10 to determine where the victim has been bitten. A result of 1-2 is the right leg, a result of 3-4 is the left leg, a result of 5-6 is the right arm, a result of 7-8 is the left arm, a result of 9 is the torso, and a result of 10 is the head. The skin around the bite becomes black and flaky, like skin which has been severely burned. This effect slowly spreads throughout the day. After 24 hours, it grows enough to spread to an adjacent part of the body. The spread can be stopped either with magical healing, or by amputating all affected body parts. Aside from severe discomfort, the necrotic zombie bite has no negative mechanical effects until it has fully spread throughout both the torso and head of the victim, at which point the victim dies and rises as a necrotic bite zombie 1d6 minutes later.

Zombification Zone A particular dungeon could be enchanted in such a way that anything which died within it would be raised as a zombie within 1d6 minutes of death. This would include any creatures which the players slay, or any players which die within the dungeon. Just as the players leave a room after clearing it, they would be accosted from behind by the very creatures they thought they had just destroyed!

Boneblade Zombie Zombies are often covered with jutting bones. It can be an exposed ribcage, a broken femur, or just a forearm without a hand. Boneblade Zombies have been specifically crafted to maximize the number of jutting bones, and to sharpen those bones to razor points. The slam attacks of these zombies deal 1d8 +6 piercing damage, and they gain +2 natural armor bonus to AC.

Minion Zombies When I was first learning about 4th edition, the concept of minion NPCs was one of the first things to really turn me off to the game. As a rule, I don’t like the inclusion of enemies which functionally exist for the purpose of being defeated easily. As an option, however, I think it could be a flavorful alternative to the zombies presented in the bestiary. When a level one party is fighting a necromancer, and 5 zombies enter to assist him from the next room, the players are in pretty serious trouble. While zombies are not particularly difficult to hit, they are capable of doing a fair amount of damage. And since each one has 5 damage reduction on top of 12 HP, the party is going to need to devote at least a few turns to each one. If, on the other hand, you remove the damage reduction from each zombie, and reduce their HP to 1, the necromancer could call 30 zombies into the room to help him! Since Zombies are cannon fodder anyway, it makes sense for them to be easy to destroy. And since they don’t lose any of their ability to harm the players, they still pose a serious threat.

Plant Zombie Rather than being animated by negative energy, zombies could functionally be created by a flower which grows in the skulls of dead people. The roots weave throughout the brain, and stimulate it to produce movement. The blood and flesh of the living are used as fertilizer, allowing the plant to sustain itself, and a puff of pollen on the corpses of the dead would allow it to reproduce. Functionally this would be no different from a normal zombie, but don’t discount the value of fluff in making something old feel new again.

Parasitic Zombies Did you know that zombies are real? There are a variety of real life parasites which take control of their host creatures. One such parasite, the lancet liver fluke, was featured by The Oatmeal, and its life cycle serves as a good example of other similar parasites. Insofar as I’ve read, all of these parasites take control of a specific type of organism, then do their best to get that organism eaten by one of its natural predators. The parasite then reproduces in the colon of the new host, and its eggs are released into the world when the creature poops. In reality, I’ve never heard of these parasites taking control of anything larger than a small fish, but in fantasy such a parasite might be used to take control of humans. Once controlled, the brain-dead humans would function essentially as zombies. They would attack anything in their path, sustaining themselves on the flesh of others, with the ultimate goal of being devoured by a dragon, or other large human-eating creature.

Beloved Zombie These zombies are sometimes created by experienced necromancers with a particularly sadistic bent. Each zombie is under the effect of powerful illusion magic, which causes anyone who sees the zombie to believe it was created from the remains of a deceased loved one. Any attack roll made against such a zombie is made at a -1 penalty per HD of the zombie. Low level beloved zombies might simply appear to be the viewer’s long dead grandparent who was kind of a dick. Whereas a high level zombie would appear to be the recently deceased son of the viewer, crying while he plays with all of the viewer’s dead childhood pets.

Reality is my Sourcebook: Bejeweled Skeletons

History is interesting.

Like, really interesting.

Americans, like myself, don’t tend to get a lot of historical education. I don’t know about the what others may have experienced, but looking back it seems as though I simply learned about the same things over and over. It wasn’t until a few into my university education that I realized I knew next to nothing about American history after the revolutionary war. I was even less familiar with the history of other countries, and even less familiar than that with the history of countries outside of the west. It is a failing I have been regrettably slow to correct, which is really too bad, because ya know all those people who were alive before our parents?

They were awesome.

I mean, they were awful. For most of history, every social group has been dirt under the feet of the social group above it. I firmly believe that the human race has, overall, improved as time has gone forward. But none the less, if you take the time to explore the past, I guarantee you’ll find something amazing. Something like bejeweled skeletons.

I haven’t been able to find much more information than is given in my original source (Defunct). The scant information I’ve been able to discover about the individuals has covered their lives, and stopped short after their death. But, apparently, these are all saints of the catholic church. As best I can determine, it seems that all died sometime before 1100 C.E. Each was taken from Rome (probably the catacombs under Saint Peter’s Basilica, though I’m not positive) sometime in the 1600s. Their remains were dressed in these elaborate, bejeweled imitations of what was then modern fashion. They were then re-interred in the catacombs of a small German chapel.

I’d love to learn more if anyone can find anything on the subject. Though the benefit of not knowing is that I get to imagine the details for myself. Was this odd, elaborate ritual done peacefully, or were the remains stolen? If the former, why? Was the transfer of hallowed corpses a bargaining chip in a diplomatic negotiation, or were the corpses moved because it was felt they did not belong amongst the hallowed corpses? Perhaps they were garbed in such a rich fashion in an attempt to satiate their spirits for the dishonor of being removed from a more respectable grave. And if the latter, if the remains were stolen, why, and how? Was there a battle, or was their acquisition a daring act of subterfuge? Were they each members of some secret society, and were taken so they could be buried according to that society’s rituals, or were they all secretly members of a single family? The possibilities are enticing, and endless.

This is the stuff adventures are made of. For a low level adventurer, finding just one of these skeletons would be worth delving through a 10-level dungeon. Even higher level adventurers would be awed to find a group of these skeletons posed around a table, perhaps reenacting some magnificent deed from their lives.

Pictured above is Saint Maximinus, whom I imagine would not be a fun person to game with. Each of the skeletons below are labelled in turn. Many thanks for the beautiful photography must be given to Toby De Silva. You can see more of his work on his website. (Defunct) He’s got an eye for the macabre, which I like.

Merciless Monsters 3: Draugr

For the first time in a long while now, I sat down to write today’s post without the foggiest idea of what it was going to be about. It’s Friday, so my choices were narrowed down to either Merciless Monster, a Colorful Character, or a Magical Marvel. Most of the time, when I wake up Friday morning, I start thinking about what I would like to create. While I’m taking care of the mundane tasks which make up our daily lives, I’m also fumbling through the details for the monster, character, or item I’ll be writing about once I can finally sit at my keyboard in the morning. Today I…just didn’t do that. Not quite sure why. By the time I got home I was so exhausted I went straight to bed after dinner. Couldn’t have been later than 7 o’clock. When I awoke at 3 in the morning on Saturday, I sat down to write without the foggiest idea of what I’d be writing about.

I had wanted to continue my Magical Marvels series on the artifact weapons found my my Ascendant Crusade campaign, but the artist who has been illustrating those is asleep, so that’s a no-go. And since I’m still a little tired of the Colorful Characters posts, I decided to write another Merciless Monsters post. But what to write about? If you’re not willing to randomly combine animals together and call it a ‘monster,’ coming up with a fearsome creature on the spot isn’t so easy. I was first inspired by my plushie of Jabba the Hutt to create a Pathfinder version of Hutts which hoarded gold and made Faustian bargains with those who sought their aid. Truth be told I think it’s a really great idea, and I may return to it, but the creature I imagine would be used for role playing encounters, rather than combat encounters, and that’s not what I wanted to write about tonight.

Out of ideas, I gave into my inner-zombie and googled “Undead in Folklore.” Unsurprisingly, wikipedia was the first result, but I opened a number of windows in anticipation of a lengthy search. I started with Wikipedia’s list of “Forms of Undead,” and clicked the first type which I wasn’t already intimately familiar with: the Draugr. At first they didn’t seem particularly interesting, just mummies without the wrappings. I almost clicked away, but continued reading long enough to learn that they could grow in size at will. That’s pretty interesting. I kept reading, and learned even more interesting things. This creature (which, incidentally, was the very first type of undead on that list) is surrounded by superstitions and rituals which I’ve never seen represented elsewhere.

Let this be a lesson to all game masters: Mythology will never let you down.

Particularly the shit that vikings came up with. Those people were fucking crazy.

Draugr

The imposing form of the corpse-blue creature stands before you, emanating a stench of decay which nearly makes you gag. It wears the garb–and the grin–of a fearsome warrior.

Draugr; CR 14; [Undead] [Crypt] [Cool Climate] [Nocturnal]

XP: 38,400
NE Medium Undead
Init +1; Senses Darkvision 60ft, Perception +0

DEFENSE

AC 23, touch 13, flat-footed 21 [10 + Dex(1) + Dodge(1) + Ring(1) +Armor(10)]
HP 85 (11d8 + 33)
DR 5/Iron
Regeneration 2 (See “Destruction”)
Fort +9 Ref +4 Will +5;
Immunities Undead Traits

OFFENSE

Speed 30 ft.
Melee +2 Greatsword +25/+20/+15 (2d6 + 17)

STATISTICS

Str 29 Dex 12 Con — Int 3 Wis 10 Cha 16
Base Attack +11/6/1; CMB +20; CMD 33 (+8 vs. Bull Rush or Trip attempts.)
Feats Combat Expertise, Combat Reflexes, Disruptive, Dodge, Improved Vital Strike, Lunge, Mobility, Spellbreaker, Spring Attack, Vital Strike, Weapon Focus (Greatsword), Weapon Specialization (Greatsword), Whirlwind Attack
Skills Intimidate (+14)
Languages Common
SQ Gaseous Form, Stability, Armor Training 3; Weapon Training (Heavy Blades +2,Light Blades +1)
Gear +1 full plate, +2 Greatsword, Ring of Protection +1

ECOLOGY

Environment They guard their crypt unless disturbed, then they will attack nearby settlements.
Organization Solitary or in groups of up to ten.
Activity Cycle Primarily nocturnal, but do not tire, and can function even in daylight.
Diet None; Natural Enemies None
Treasure Standard

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Gaseous Form(Su) As a standard action, a draugr can assume gaseous form (Pathfinder Core Rulebook Pg. 287) at will. It can remain in this state indefinitely, and has a fly speed of 20 feet with perfect maneuverability.

Swim Through Earth(Su) As a standard action, a draugr may enter into earth or stone at will as though it were water. This state lasts indefinitely, and allows the dragur to travel at a speed of 10 through any surface made of these materials. A draugr may take a grappled creature with him when he uses this ability. This creature will not suffocate, but is considered to be under the effects of a Meld Into Stone spell (Pathfinder Core Rulebook Pg. 312). Non-casters may be unable to escape without assistance.

Enlarge Self(Su) As a standard action, a draugr can enlarge itself at will. This functions as the spell Enlarge Person (Pathfinder Core Rulebook Pg. 277) except the draugr can only cast it on itself, and its duration is indefinite. In addition, a draugr is able to grow up to four times its normal height. A medium creature would become a huge creature, gaining  a -2 penalty to attack rolls and AC, a -6 penalty to Dexterity and a +6 bonus to Strength. The creature also gains a +2 special size modifier to combat maneuver checks and defense due to its increased size, and has a reach of 15ft. A draugr’s speed also doubles while in this form. One of the draugr’s preferred methods of slaying its victims is to crush or devour them while increased in size.

CREATING A DRAUGR

Brutish Draugr lose nearly all their intelligence when they become undead, though they retain enough to be sentient and aware. They are also creatures of immense strength. When a draugr is created, its Intelligence is reduced to 3, and its Strength is raised by an amount equal to the amount its Intelligence was lowered. So if a creature has 10 STR and 10 INT, then upon becoming a draugr its INT becomes 3, and the STR becomes 17.

Forceful Presence Upon become a draugr, a creature gains 6 Charisma.

Weapon Resistance Draugr gain Damage Reduction 1/Iron for every 2 HD

Overweight Draugr are unnaturally heavy, and gain a +8 bonus to their Combat Maneuver Defense when resisting a bull rush or trip attempt.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

Background Draugr are crypt guardians, not unlike their distant undead cousins mummies. They rise to protect their tombs (or the tombs of powerful leaders they were interred with), from graver robbers and thieves who would defile them, and pilfer their riches. They are sometimes created intentionally,using simple burial rituals which are known to a number of warrior peoples. Most often, however, draugr simply rise from the corpses of those whose wealth was gained through violence and bloodshed. Warriors who valued gold more than they valued the lives of others.

Draugr are intelligent, though barely so. Most draugr know only two things for sure: they must protect their tomb, and they hate the living. Draugr are painfully jealous, and take great delight in killing. If they cannot have life, then why should anybody else? Often times after they encounter a living creature who has entered their tomb, they will become so enraged that killing only once is not enough. They will dare to leave their crypt for a few hours every night for a few days, searching for more living creatures to kill. If anything is actually taken from their tomb, then the draugr may not stop venturing out at night until it is slain.

Occasionally when a draugr kills someone, they will drag the body back to their crypt. The next night, that body will also rise as a draugr, and work with the first to protect the crypt. Some scholars speculate that the draugr who do this are slowly becoming more intelligent, and realize that additional draugr will allow them to spend more time away from their own crypt, killing the living.

Appearance Draugr are bloated and ugly. Their skin is a blue-black color, and they have a pungent stench of decay about them.

Emanations of Evil Animals which feed near a draugr’s tomb often become dire animals. They will attack anyone who approaches, and obey any command given them by the draugr.

Progression Sometimes, usually after a draugr has left its crypt and slain a number of interlopers, it begins to regain some of its Intelligence–though none of its memories. These draugr become even more intensely jealous of the living, and often become more concerned with tormenting them than they do with protecting their tomb. They also gain a number of powerful magical abilities, allowing them to enter dreams, spread magical diseases and plagues, bestow curses, control the weather, change their form to that of an animal, or even see the future. On occasion, extremely powerful draugr have been known to prevent the sun from shining anywhere within miles of their tombs. The goal of these draugr becomes to drive all living beings mad, so that they cannot enjoy the life which the creature so envies.

Destruction Destroying a draugr is difficult. Even when its damage reduction can be overcome, the creature’s bones knit back together of their own volition. Wounds will close, and even severed limbs may reattach themselves. Even a draugr reduced to 0 HP is not destroyed, as most undead creatures are. The only way to truly destroy a draugr is to cut off its head, incinerate it, and scatter the ashes into a sea or river. If this is not done within 6 days, the draugr will regenerate within two weeks.

REFERENCE

Merciless Monsters 2: Bloody Avenger (Bloody Mary)

I recently became rather intrigued by Bloody Mary folklore. I’ve always been a fan of undead creatures. In particular, I’m fascinated to learn about the reality of humanity’s fear of the dead. Pop culture is so inundated with movie monsters these days that it’s easy to know everything about zombies of vampires without ever learning the reality which inspired the fantasy. In fact, it was the trailer for the movie “Paranormal Activity 3” which first got me interested in this folklore. I find it hilarious that a movie trailer failed to convince me to see the movie, but succeeded in motivating me to do some reading. Even if it was just Wikipedia, and a handful of other websites.

Each of us is a student of popular culture, whether or not we realize it. But there’s so much more to these creatures. Historical information, which filmmakers never passed down to us. Did you know that while Catholics in Western Europe took a slowly-decomposing corpse as a sign of sainthood; Catholics in Eastern Europe took it as a sign that the corpse was waking at night as a vampire? It’s true. Likewise, Zombies originate from Afro-Haitian superstitions, where “sorcerers” would use psychoactive chemicals to place a victim in a highly suggestible state, then order that victim to do their bidding.

Interesting stuff.

Hoping to find some similarly interesting revelations for Bloody Mary, I did some looking around. I haven’t found a ton of solid information on the tale’s origins–it seems to be a relatively recent, and particularly fractured piece of folklore. However, the sheer volume of completely different accounts of this mirror-dwelling creature make it a curiosity to me. And as I looked for additional sources of information, I began to wonder if Mary had ever been converted into a monster for gaming. I flipped through the various incorporeal undead in my Bestiaries and Monster Manuals, but didn’t find anything which seemed specifically based on her. Since I find the folklore so fascinating, I thought I’d go ahead and create my own.

As an aside, in my study of Bloody Mary, I learned a word which should be very useful to game masters and world crafters. Catoptromancy; Divination by use of mirrors, or other reflective surfaces.

Bloody Avenger

At first all that can be seen is the dripping blood, falling apparently from thin air. Once one looks upon vengeful specter’s crimson form, the black pits of its eyes widen, and it gurgles a curse from a blood filled mouth.

Bloody Avenger; CR 10; [Undead(Incorporeal)] [Urban] [Any Climate] [Nocturnal]

XP: 6,400
CE Medium Undead
Init +7; Senses darkvision 60ft; Perception +12

DEFENSE

AC 18, touch 18, flat-footed 14 [10 + Dex(3) + Dodge(1) + Incorporeal Deflection(4)]
HP 90 (9d8 + 45)
Fast Healing 2
Fort +3 Ref +6 Will +12
Defensive Abilities Incorporeal
Immunities Undead Traits

OFFENSE

Speed fly 30 ft. (Perfect)
Melee Lacerate Face + 14 (4d6 + 4)
Special Attacks Death’s Gaze, Share Guilt, Expose Guilt, Bloody Chains

STATISTICS

Str — Dex 16 Con — Int 6 Wis 15 Cha 18
Base Attack +6/1CMB+9 CMD 19
Feats Improved Initiative, Dodge, Ability Focus(Death’s Gaze), Iron Will, Toughness, Natural Weapon Focus (Lacerate Face)
Skills Fly (+12), Intimidation (+21), Perception (+12), Stealth (+20)
Languages Common

ECOLOGY

Environment Most commonly in urban homes, but they can strike wherever a mirror is nearby.
Organization Solitary
Activity Cycle Primarily nocturnal, but do not tire, and can function wherever there is low light.
Treasure Standard

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Invisibility(Sp) A bloody avenger may cast Invisibility (as the spell) at will.

Catoptromancy(Su) A bloody avenger can enter any mirror, and exit through any other mirror on the same plane. Broken mirrors do not affect the creature’s ability to travel through them, however, a mirror covered with a cloth cannot be traveled through. The creature can do this while invisible. Note that this ability works only for mirrors, surfaces which are incidentally reflective cannot be used for this, or any other mirror-related ability of the Bloody Avenger.

Lacerate Face(Ex) Bloody Avengers are compelled to destroy their victim’s faces. It is not entirely clear why they do this, but it is surmised that it is based on the creature’s intense feelings of guilt, and a desire to destroy its own identity. This is a melee touch attack which deals damage equal to 1d6/2 hit dice. A Bloody Avenger’s charisma modifier is considered a weapon bonus for the purposes of this attack, and can be added both to the attack and the damage roll.

Death’s Gaze(Su) 3 times per day, as a standard action, a Bloody Avenger may show a target opponent their own death. This is the death which they are currently fated for, though their fate is not immutable. However, the individual who sees this image of their death will know, inherently, that it is not an illusion. The fear this causes is profound. The target becomes immediately Panicked, but is entitled to a will saving throw [DC 20 (10 + 1/2 HD + Cha + Ability Focus)] to be only shaken. Targets can repeat the will save on each turn until they succeed. The Shaken condition lasts 3 rounds. In order to be affected by this attack, the target must look either at the Bloody Avenger, or at any mirrors.

Share Guilt(Su) Once per day a Bloody Avenger may pass through a target creature by moving through a square which that creature occupies. The target is entitled to a reflex saving throw [DC 17 (10 + 1/2 HD + Cha)] to take an immediate 5-foot step out of the way. If the Bloody Avenger successfully passes through the target, then for the next 24 hours, any damage inflicted on the Bloody Avenger will be inflicted on that target. This effect is treated as a curse, and any ability which removes curses will end this effect.

Expose Guilt(Su) Once per day, a Bloody Avenger can select a target. As a standard action, the Bloody Avenger shares the target’s greatest unknown sin to all of that target’s allies within 60ft. Any moral boosting effects which that character granted to his companions ceases to function, and all opponents within 10ft of the character take a -1 penalty to all rolls. This effect lasts for 24 hours.

Bloody Chains(Su) Once per day, a Bloody Avenger can cause four blood-soaked barbed chains to emerge from any mirror within 60 feet, and grapple with a target. The chains are treated as having the Grab ability, so they do not provoke an attack of opportunity when they attempt to grapple. The chains have an effective CMB of +14, and can extend a maximum of 30ft from the mirror. The chains immediately begin attempting to draw a grappled target into the mirror (requiring a successful grapple check each round to move the target at half of the chain’s speed of 30). Each of the 4 chains has hardness 10, hp 5, and a break DC of 26. Each chain destroyed reduces the chain’s overall CMB by 2.

If the chains successfully move a target to a space adjacent to the mirror which they came out of, then on their next turn they may attempt a final grapple check to pull their target into the mirror. (This is considered a hazardous location, granting the target a +4 on their grapple attempt). If the target is successfully drawn into the mirror, then they fall out of another mirror somewhere on the same plane. This mirror could be elsewhere in town, in another nation, or even on another continent.

Death Rattle(Su) Upon its destruction, a Bloody Avenger lets out a piercing wail of anguish. Characters within a 60ft radius of the destroyed Bloody Avenger, who are not wearing protective ear coverings, take 10d6 sonic damage from this wail.

SPECIAL WEAKNESSES

Distraction All Bloody Avengers are created from a death which resulted from the death of someone else–whether or not they are guilty of it. They are fixated on that event, and seek indiscriminate revenge for it. However, if they are presented with someone who reminds them of whomever’s death caused their own, the Bloody Avenger may become distracted. For example, a mother who went mad and died after the passing of her child may, as a Bloody Avenger, become distracted by a young child, believing it to be her own for as long as her distraction is not interrupted.

Summoning If an adventurer looks into a mirror and speaks the true name of a Bloody Avenger three times, then confesses to causing the death for which the Bloody Avenger is seeking vengeance, then the Bloody Avenger is immediately transported to that mirror.

Forced Medium Bloody Avengers can be used to discover secrets which may otherwise be impossible to discern. Once one is encountered or summoned, the party or individual who encounter it must not meet the Bloody Avengers eyes, nor harm it at all. For 1 minute (10 rounds) the Bloody Avenger will attack the party normally, however, unless the party meets the creature’s eyes or attacks it in return, it cannot use lethal force. After a minute has passed, the Bloody Avenger can no longer attack the party. The party can, at this point, ask to speak with a specific dead person. They need not know the person’s name, but must know something about them. “The person who designed the ruins of Aomur,” or “The little boy who was killed by Joey Grills four years ago” would be sufficient. The Bloody Avenger will then retrieve the soul of this person with unerring accuracy, assuming they are dead, their souls still exist, and the phrasing of the question did not specifically exclude the intended person (Such as if Joey Grills killed a girl).

The soul is then compelled to answer any questions the party has for it. This bypasses any of the normal restrictions on the Speak with Dead spell. Three conditions cause this effect to end: 1) if the party meets the eyes of, or attacks, the Bloody Avenger, then the dead spirit disappears, and the party must combat the Bloody Avenger normally. 2) If the party tells the spirit it can go, then the Bloody Avenger will also excuse itself by exiting through the nearest mirror. If the mirror has been covered, the Bloody Avenger will attack the party. 3) after 10 minutes, the Bloody Avenger is released from its compulsion, and will release the spirit and attack the party.

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION

Background A Bloody Avenger is a very particular manner of ghost. In life, the creatures who eventually become Bloody Avengers all suffer greatly from the horrible death, or loss, of someone dear to them. Such as a mother whose child goes missing, a man whose mother is murdered, or a child who watches another child fall down a well. The exact manner of the loss is irrelevant, so long as the person feels guilt over the loss. It matters not if the person in question is actually responsible in any degree for the loss, so long as they feel guilt over it.

That guilt must then drive the person to their own death, or dominate the rest of their life. To use the above examples, if the mother who lost her child went mad, and eventually committed suicide, that would qualify. If the man mentioned above had murdered his mother himself; and was then tried and executed for the crime, that would qualify. Even if he denied his guilt, it is likely that he still felt that guilt on some level. Lastly, if the young child lives a long life, yet is always haunted by feelings of guilt for the other child’s death, then even dying of old age would not save him or her from qualifying. Any of these people might potentially rise as Bloody Avengers.

Bloody Avengers remember very little of their lives. They wander, only half aware of the world around them, while the other half of their attention is constantly reliving the moment which caused their guilt. This leaves them angry and violent, and poised to attack anyone who disturbs them.

REFERENCE

  • The Undead Type is described on page 309 of the Pathfinder Bestiary.
  • The Incorporeal Subtype is described on page 312 of the Pathfinder Bestiary.
  • The Incorporeal Trait is described on page 301 of the Pathfinder Bestiary.
  • Information on the Bloody Mary legend drawn from the Wikipedia entry, and the Snopes.com entry (oddly enough. Do ghost stories really need to be verified?)
  • Images for this post taken from a remarkable fan-video for the Lady Gaga song “Bloody Mary”

Reality is my Sourcebook: The Phylactery

I learned something the other day.

The concept of a lich’s phylactery is taken from Judaic mysticism. In reality, phylacteries were a complex kind of ‘magic underwear’ which were apparently quite common in Jewish communities at one time. Jewish Encyclopedia.com has an absolutely fascinating article on the subject, written in the early 20th century. There’s an impressive amount of detail there, much of which I think I would need to know a lot more about Jewish tradition to fully understand. But enough of the article is written in plain English for me to learn a lot about the beliefs surrounding this tradition.

As I mentioned in my post titled Succubi Deserve More, I like to explore the mythology behind fantasy tropes. Not only does it result in me becoming a more educated and historically aware person, but the real-world mythology always offers fascinating insight into the fantastic possibilities. Whoever first decides to take some cultural or mythological element and include it in a fantasy story takes what works for them, and leaves the rest. That’s how fantasy writing works. But who is to say that the elements they left behind aren’t sometimes just as interesting as the elements they chose to keep?

For clarity’s sake, lets start with the explanation of what a phylactery is in Pathfinder, pulled from The Pathfinder Bestiary, page 188. For those curious, this excerpt is functionally identical to the same excerpt in the Dungeons and Dragons 3.5 Monster Manual.

An integral part of becoming a lich is the creation of the phylactery in which the character stores his soul. The only way to get rid of a lich for sure is to destroy its phylactery. Unless its phylactery is located and destroyed, a lich can rejuvenate after it is killed. (See Creating a Lich, below).

Each lich must create its own phylactery by using the Craft Wondrous Item feat. The character must be able to cast spells and have a caster level of 11th or higher. The phylactery costs 120,000 gp to create and has a caster level equal to that of its creator at the time of creation.

The most common form of phylactery is a sealed metal box containing strips of parchment on which magical phrases have been transcribed. The box is Tiny and has 40 hit points, hardness 20, and a break DC of 40.

Other forms of phylacteries can exist, such as rings, amulets, or similar items.

Not a lot to go on, really. I also seem to recall very distinctly that the process of becoming a lich (and so, presumably, creating the phylactery) is supposed to be profoundly evil. To my knowledge, that is the sum of official material on what a phylactery is within the game world. There are probably a few dragon magazine articles, and sourcebooks from the 70s and 80s which contain further tidbits of “official” information, but for now the basic definition will do.

Before moving any further, I would like to again remind my readers that I am not a credible source on the topic of Judaic history and lore. The sources for this post, which have far more information on this topic, are the Jewish Encyclopedia.com article on Phylacteries, and the Skeptic’s Annotated Bible.

The historical phylactery, by comparison, was considered a very holy thing. In fact, if you look at the word’s etymology, the Greek root words suggest that it was intended to protect the wearer from evil. The Jewish custom is based on a number of passages in the Torah, most notably this excerpt from Deuteronomy:

And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on they gates.

The ‘words’ this passage wants the reader to spend so much time talking about are, as best I can determine, God’s laws. Variations of this passage show up in a number of places, since repetition is an essential element in an oral tradition. The important part, though, is the bit I emphasized. That’s the origin of the historical phylactery. The exact means of how these devices were worn is somewhat unclear to me. The image at the start of the post demonstrates how complicated they appear to be–and every element was important. Even the way the knots were tied was meant to symbolize specific Hebrew lettering. Essentially, however, historical phylacteries are small boxes or pouches which are worn on the arms and between the eyes. Within the pouches are a specific arrangement of passages from the Torah, written on tiny scrolls of paper. This is likely where the idea of a lich’s phylactery being a metal box filled with tiny magical scrolls came from.

One of the archetypical things which liches do is hide their phylacteries. Common ideas are to hide it in a fortress somewhere, or to give it to a powerful dragon to protect. I’ve been involved in discussions on /tg/ and elsewhere which focus just on coming up with the most outrageous, funny, and clever ways to hid a phylactery. And I’ve heard some positively fantastic ideas. But the historical phylactery was a thing which had to be worn. You couldn’t leave it at home and continue to rely on the spiritual protection it provided.

Of course, if every lich was wearing their phylactery dangling between their eyes, the monster would loose all of its flavor. But what if there was a limit to how far away the phylactery could be from the lich? Say, it must be within 1 mile of the lich’s location. For each additional mile away, the lich suffers from 1 negative level, and if the lich reaches 0, it dies and re-forms at the location of its phylactery. Perhaps the lich might even get some kind of bonus if its phylactery is within 100ft, say, plus one caster level? Adding a mechanic like this takes nothing away from the the fun of hiding the lich’s phylactery, and in fact may end up being a great deal more fun for the players. Looking for a hidden item can be fun, but if that item is in an adamantite box which shifts to a random location in the multiverse every 30 seconds, the players are simply going to get bored. Adding limits gives the players somewhere to start their investigation. Plus, this adds a fun element to the game of a lich needing to actively manage their phylactery’s location in order to avoid negative levels.

Also interesting is that the wearer of a historical phylactery was not supposed to enter a cemetery, or “any unseemly places” whilst wearing it. Again, this suggests some interesting possibilities for the lich’s phylactery. Since liches never have their phylactery, it wouldn’t make sense for certain places to only be accessible when the lich didn’t have it, but what if there were certain places a lich couldn’t enter UNLESS it had its phylactery with it? Such as an area which is consecrated, or perhaps they cannot go within 10 miles of their original birthplace without their phylactery. It might even be interesting to say that a lich could never enter a cemetery without its phylactery. Though, given a lich’s frequent need for necromancy reagents, this could make things difficult.

There are a number of rules for historical phylacteries…actually there are a plethora of rules. There is an entire pantheon of rules. This is, after all, Judaism. The rules range from the spacing on the letters on the little scrolls, to the attention span of the chap scribing those letters, to even the color of the case. Largely, I don’t think these have much application. They could be fun if one was trying to come up with a good ritual for creating a phylactery, but unless a character becoming a lich is the focus of a campaign, I don’t think it’s particularly useful to go into the creation process too much. Although that would be a kickass campaign.

However, this rule caught my eye: “The straps (Yad. iii. 3) were made of the same material as the boxes, but could be of any color except blood-red.” Perhaps I’m shooting in the dark, here, but what if blood were harmful to phylacteries? What if, perhaps, blood was the ONLY thing which could harm a phylactery. The blood of a goodly person–or perhaps even the blood of a fallen hero. The phylactery must be coated with it, and then it becomes as brittle as a twig.

I encourage you to read up on the historical phylactery yourself, and comment on your own ideas for making a lich’s phylactery more interesting!

Magical Marvels 4: Gravewhisper's Claw

This week’s artifact kopesh is again from my Ascendant Crusade campaign, much like the previous two artifacts Wallcraft’s Offerings and Kofek’s Tongue. This weapon is again illustrated by my ladyfriend. You should check out more of her art on her DeviantArt page.

Gravewhisper’s Claw
Artifact Kopsh

KOPESH

The kopesh is the ancient Egyptian name for a type of sword dating back to 3,000-2,000 B.C.E. The hooked design of the sword was, ostensibly, to allow warriors to grab shields out of their opponent’s hands. The sword was used in the Dungeons and Dragons 3.0 supplement “Arms and Equipment Guide,” as a heavy slashing weapon which could be used for trip attacks. The base weapon is exotic, can be wielded in one or two hands, costs 20gp, deals 1d8 slashing damage, has a crit range of 19-20 and multiplies damage by 2 on a critical attack. This is something of a misrepresentation of the weapon, which had a narrow, light blade. For my own purposes, I combined the more traditional blade design and purpose with the thicker width and high damage.

PHYSICAL ATTACKS

(Blade)2d8 + 5 (Slashing)(19-20/x2)

SPELLS GRANTED

1/Day – True Strike, cast by whispering “Blade of mine, fail me not!” This is a free action. The next attack gains a +20 attack bonus, and ignores any miss chance from concealment. (Pathfinder Core Rulebook Pg. 363)

SPECIAL ABILITIES

  • The blade of Gravewhisper’s Claw has one of the keenest edges ever forged. Not only was the swordsmith a master of their craft, but magical enhancements to further narrow the edge, and protect it from dullness have been cast upon the weapon with the skill of the greatest of archmages. This grants the weapon its additional 1d8 damage die on top of the standard kopesh.
  • Aside from the powerful sharpness enchantments upon the blade, Gravewhisper’s Claw also holds an enchantment which causes the edge of the blade to be hot as a blacksmith’s fire. When attacking, Gravewhisper’s Claw is able to ignore up to 8 hardness. This allows the wielder to cut into stone as though it were paper. Even steel provides little more resistance than leather. This bonus does not apply to Damage Reduction, nor does it bypass any amount of Armor Class. It does, however, aid in sunder attempts.
  • Anyone wielding Gravewhisper’s Claw gains the Improved Sunder feat if they do not already have it. Sunder attempts attempted by the wielder do not provoke attacks of opportunity, and are made with a +2 bonus. Additionally, the wielder gains +2 to their combat maneuver defense against sunder attempts.
  • Gravewhisper’s Claw’s hooklike blade can be used to make a trip attempt. If the wielder is tripped during their own trip attempt, they can drop Gravewhisper’s Claw to avoid being tripped.
  • Gravewhisper’s Claw’s hooklike blade can be used to make a disarm attempt at a +2 bonus to the wielder’s combat maneuver check. This is in addition to the +2 granted by the Improved Sunder feat, for a total of +4.
  • The first time anyone takes hold of the hilt of Gravewhisper’s Touch, they are immediately affected by a powerful illusion which last several hours for them, but for others appears to last only a few minutes. In this illusion, the wielder experiences the greatest battle the blade was ever involved in: the fall of Niston.

APPEARANCE

Gravewhisper’s claw is made of polished black adamantine, and inlaid into an ornate hilt of silvery mithril. The grip of the blade is wrapped tightly in red leather–made from the skin of a Balor killed within the realms of the Abyss. A large sapphire is serves as the pommel of the blade, and two thin bands of gold encircle the silvery hilt just below the blade. The blade itself is thicker than the blade of a standard kopesh, and it hooks more sharply at the end. The edge of the blade glows a dull red color, and though it does not burn to the touch, water which strikes the edge instantly turns to steam. In the crook of the blade floats an ancient Negunian rune. The rune is insubstantial, so objects can pass through it as though it were not there. Roughly translated, the rune means “loyalty above all,” with the connotation of strong, even romantic, affection.

HISTORY

When it was created, this blade had another name. It was commissioned by an an ancient king who ruled over the entire continent of Negune from the great city of Oriac, which spanned the entire isle of Argania. The blade was to be given as a gift to the king’s mightiest servant who resided far to the North, who was presently quelling a small uprising there. The blade was sent to the king’s servant’s forward command post by way of a heavily guarded caravan. It was to be the symbol which would carry the royal army to victory against the rebellion.

Unfortunately for the king, a rebel force which had made its way deep into the king’s territory ambushed the caravan, and stole many of its treasures; including the mighty blade. Instead of serving as a symbol of the king’s generosity and his people’s unity, it came to represent the might of the rebellion, and the ability of the people to strike a blow against the seemingly invincible armies which ruled over them. The sword rallied the people to the rebellion’s cause. And though it took twenty years and countless lives, the rebellion overthrew the king and his kingdom.

The end of the war also saw the end of law on the continent. After twenty years, the rebels were ruthless in their extermination of all that their overlords had stood for. The entire city of Oriac was razed to the ground. Its books, its artwork, its many treasures were lost forever. The rebels had come to find authority so distasteful that they rejected the very notion of government. The continent descended into tribalism for centuries, descending eventually into barbarism. For some time the blade would appear here or there for a generation or two, in the hands of a powerful warrior. But it soon became lost.

It wasn’t until several millenia later, after the continent had been re-settled by immegrants from another land that the blade was rediscovered by an Illumian adventurer named Byert Gravewhisper. It had made its way into the bottommost depths of an unexplored crypt within the boarders of the Regalian province of Volpan. He was there with his adventuring party, led by she who would someday come to be known as The Whispered Queen, looking for the one true c0py of The Book of Vile Darkness, bound by Vecna’s own hand. It was easy to spot, for though a thick layer of dust had settled over its entire surface, the red glowing edges burned away any dust which settled upon them.

Byert carried the blade with him through the rest of his adventures. The weapon’s original name and history had been lost to the ages, so he dubbed the blade “Gravewhisper’s Claw.” It served him well as he adventured across the continent, and later as he conquered the continent as a general of The Whispered Queen. It was during this period that he commissioned an enchantment placed upon the blade. A passionate military historian, Byert collected many historical weapons and had them enchanted to allow him to re-live the weapons’ greatest battle in an illusory world.

The weapon remained by Byert’s side until his ultimate demise by the side of The Whispered Queen, over a thousand years after he first took the blade for his own. One of the warriors who defeated the Whispered Queen took the blade as his own for a short time. But shortly before his death, he donated it to the clerics of Byblyx, an order which holds the preservation and sharing of knowledge to be the greatest commandment of their goddess. Since then, the blade has been kept in a museum within the capital city of the new Negunian Republic.

NPC Reactions

Fair warning: the job that pays for my rent has been exhausting lately. I fell asleep immediately after coming home last night, and didn’t wake up until morning. I had a rough outline of this post prepared already, but don’t have as much time as I’d planned on to actually put it together.

Non-player characters pose a real challenge for me, as a game master. Much as I pride myself on improvisation as a general skill, I am not at all satisfied with my ability to conjure up interesting NPCs on the spot. Over the years I’ve found that I default to a handful of naming conventions (Um…it’ll start with a P…”Hello traveler! My name is…Pyort!” *Players all crack up*) and that all my voices, personalities, etcetera start to sound suspiciously similar over time. An entire world full of Pyorts is not a good idea, let me tell you.

To try to remedy this failing of mine, I’ve tried coming up with a number of tools. I once spent a good six months working on a PHP script which would randomly generate a bunch of “seed” information for an NPC. The idea was that you could hit a button, and be given a race, class, personality type, mood, name, etc. All of which were suited to my campaign setting. The whole project had the added bonus of helping me hone my sloppy PHP skills. Unfortunately I had to move just as the project was gaining momentum, so it’s been on the back burner for going on three years now.

The project may have been overly ambitious in the first place anyway. These days I’m convinced that there must be a simpler, more elegant way to make NPCs distinct from one another. One which doesn’t require that I have a laptop behind the GM screen. There are, after all, a number of identifiable things which modify a person’s attitude and behavior. Cultural traits, for example. There have been some interesting studies about how culture modifies a person’s behavior, even within the united states. For example, as a statistical average, people in the south are more likely to be polite, but they’re also more likely to become violent if they feel they’ve been insulted or marginalized. Whereas my experience in the pacific northwest for 24 years has led me to expect that people are largely passive aggressive about their feelings. That’s a pretty big difference, and it’s the same species within the same country. Imagine a world like Pathfinder’s where there are literally different races. (In fact I did look at that question just recently.)

Over the last few days, however, I’ve been thinking much more about what makes people act the way they do in my own life. If I go outside and talk to my neighbors, or to my girlfriend, or to my coworkers, or to my friends, what will affect the way they act towards me? We’re all the same species, and we all live in the same area, so ostensibly we would have the same basic rules about social interaction. Yet even day to day a given person can change the way they act. So what’s going on, and how can it help me make a better NPC? The way people act around one another is heavily influenced by their mood, their reaction to your mood and appearance, and a myriad of other tiny details which could be placed on a simple random chart for quick NPC generation.

  • Just received good/bad news/experience This can be small news, like receiving a discount on an item at the shop, or stubbing one’s toe. Or it can be bigger things, such as when a merchant arranges a deal which will ensure long-term profits for them, or when a farmer learns that his neighbors farm has been ravaged by locusts and fears he may be next. People are more likely to be helpful and friendly when they’ve received good fortune, and more likely to be unhelpful and dour when they’ve received bad. And, of course, the level to which their mood affects them is proportional to how good or how bad the news is.
  • Looking forward to something with anxiety/excitement Anxiety and Excitement can manifest themselves very similarly to having just received good or bad news, but in either case a person is likely to be preoccupied with something which is going to happen soon, and may not have as much time for strangers.
  • First impression of you is good/bad People have many standards by which they judge a person. The aristocracy, or other contributing members of society, might find you dirty and unpleasant due to your adventuring lifestyle. However, they might also look on you as a curiosity. Someone with interesting tales to tell. Likewise a farmer might see an adventurer as a compatriot. Many adventurers are low-born folk, and they live roughly as low-born folk do. Unlike knights, adventurers are just trying to get by rather than serving a lord. But adventurers also have a nasty reputation for wooing farmer’s daughters (or sons).
  • Likes/doesn’t like members of your gender/race/class/etc The fantasy worlds that many of us play in are based on a medieval world which, in reality, was insanely prejudiced. Now, I am strongly of the opinion that in most fantasy adventure games, history should be ignored on this point. I won’t go into that here, because I could write an entire post on that topic. However, it’s perfectly legitimate for individual people (or towns or cultures) to hold a particular prejudice which makes them difficult for specific player to deal with. Wizards or Sorcerers could be viewed as untrustworthy, or as offensive to reality. Perhaps men are viewed by a particular culture to be brutish and rude. And elves, don’t get me started on those slack-jawed daffodils…
  • Generally outgoing/introverted This one seems pretty simple, really. Some people are friendly and eager to interact with new people. They’re most likely to be helpful on minor issues, though it doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll go out of their way for strangers. More introverted folks may be no less friendly, but they’re not going to be as comfortable dealing with people they’re not already familiar with.