A Lone Dungeon Room

Back in the spring of 2020, I was involved in an abortive project to present an Exquisite Corpse dungeon. As often happens in the world of table-top role-playing games, the organizer disappeared from the internet, a bunch of people left Facebook, and that appears to be the end of that.

Since I assume that project will never see the light of day, here's the room I contributed. (I present it as originally written, resisting the urge to edit the thing for length and clarity.) Stats are vaguely B/X-ish — if you're converting to another system, the most important thing to know is that a turn is ten minutes long. You can probably figure out the rest.

You could theoretically drop this room into any dungeon in a dead-end room containing a pool.

Chamber #8

Hallway: From Chamber 3, this is a stone archway wrapped with vines that leads into a relatively low-ceilinged arched hall with a bone motif cut into the stonework. The stones closer to Chamber 3 are mossy, with the occasional vine entwined among the carved bones. The stone door leading into Chamber 8 appears to be more recent than the surrounding stone. The door bears a flaking fresco of an androgynous blue-skinned being, clad in river grasses and pulling a dark-skinned man from a river. The man's right side is submerged while the being's left hand grips his left arm. The door (which opens into Chamber 8 so the hinges are not accessible from the hallway) bears two doorknobs. The doorknob on the right is false and trapped with magic; manipulating it requires a save vs. Spells, or else the victim begins drowning as brackish water generates in the lungs. The victim makes a save vs. Paralysis each round or dies from drowning. The doorknob on the left is locked, the key long since missing.

Room: This chamber bears frescoes depicting scenes of daily life in a village by a life-giving river. The two alcoves to the left and right of the stairs are stuffed with offerings of cordgrass and mangrove fruits, long since desiccated and rotted. The stairs lead down into a pool in which reclines an ethereal, androgynous humanoid with greenish-blue skin, clad in river grasses and muddy silt. This being is Streenadi, once a minor deity worshiped by the now-extinct River-People. Clerics conveyed the deity here for safe-keeping after the river was dammed and the riverbed dried, but the loyal priests died before their god could be safely retrieved. Streenadi will implore travelers to find a way to transport them from their prison. They must be at least half-submerged in brackish water (roughly 10 - 20 ppt salinity) at all times. If separated from brackish water for more than a turn, Streenadi will sicken and die. If the travelers can safely transport the deity to a suitable habitat (preferably an estuary, although any appropriately saline body of water will do), Streenadi will grant them a wish.
If the characters deliberately kill Streenadi for some reason, the murderers find water and fish salty and inconsumable thereafter, even if treated with purify food and water. (Alcohol is safer than water anyway.) A suitably sketchy magic-user might pay 3d6 × 100 gp for the river-god's corpse.

Streenadi: AC 5, HD 2 (7 hp), Move 120' (40'), Swimming 240' (80'), 1 claw attack: 1d8 damage (2d8 if the victim is in water), Save As: Fighter 4, Morale: 10, Alignment: Neutral.
Streenadi cannot be damaged so long as they are standing in water. They take double damage from fire. They can perform many minor magical workings related to their sphere of influence, such as rendering water potable or brackish and summoning nearby fish from connected waterways to themself. Once per year, Streenadi can grant a single wish.

The Chicken of Duplication

Although typically found in fantasy space, there is no reason why one couldn't find terrestrial Chickens of Duplication.

There are those who revere the divine entity called the Chicken of Creation, a deific chicken who birthed the world and all within it. (Some believe there are many such chickens, although whether or not there are many Chickens of Creation or merely one is probably not useful for most people.) Among its many progeny is the Chicken of Duplication, a semi-divine chicken of monstrous size. (As with the Chicken of Creation, it is unclear whether there is one Chicken of Duplication or several.)

The Chicken of Duplication is often found flying through other dimensions or even the void of space. If by some strange circumstance you need stats for one, your system probably has an equivalent of a Tyrannosaurus rex; just add a flight speed and you're basically all the way there. They typically don't bother astral ships or other large objects or creatures; they might approach a vessel and give it a curious peck before moving on. Of course, if the occupants decide the peck is an attack and fight back, they will face the full fury of this semi-divine chicken.

Lone travelers are in more peril, as the Chicken of Duplication is roughly as vicious as a regular chicken.

(For Chicken of Duplication stats in 5th edition-style games, I'd start with a regisaur, change the type to celestial, add a fly speed of 120 ft., and change the tail to some manner of stomp or talon attack, dealing slashing damage instead of bludgeoning.)

If the legends are true and there is only one Chicken of Duplication, killing it doesn't stop it: it is reborn in a few days from one of its own eggs. (And like a terrestrial chicken, it lays eggs periodically without fertilization. These eggs are often in remote places in other dimensions. As such, there might be many, many eggs that have not yet been found, and one cannot truly kill the Chicken of Duplication without finding and smashing every such egg.)

The divine beast is rarely seen, but the eggs are the primary reason why anyone knows or cares about it. (It's possible the "Chicken of Duplication" isn't even a chicken; if someone saw a giant chicken and someone else saw a giant hen's egg, a third scholar could have connected the two.) An Egg of Duplication appears to be a hen's egg that is a little larger than human size, somewhere in the seven-by-five-foot range. It feels like a hen's egg, too, although it is significantly stronger — cracking the shell requires a concerted effort, as the shell is harder than steel. It is vulnerable to acid, however. Destroying or cracking the egg renders it inert and kills whatever is inside. (Although if it has not yet been activated, it might produce a truly prodigious amount of yolk. Scholars and sages no doubt would have plenty of uses for the yolk and shell of such a potent celestial egg...)

However, touching the egg with bare flesh causes a reaction. The creature who first touches the egg is enervated, taking a handful of damage, ability score drain, a level of exhaustion, or some similar mechanic that would easily heal in a day or two. No further touches have any effect on either the egg or the person touching it.

If the creature is too large to be contained by the egg, the egg remains inactivated until a creature of the appropriate size touches it.

After being touched, the egg hatches in 1d6+4 days, producing a nude duplicate of the creature who touched it. The duplicate has the same statistics as the original at the time they touched the egg, and the duplicate likewise has access to all of the target's memories until the moment it touched the egg.

As far as anyone can tell, such duplicates have no sinister agenda. However, apart from being birthed from an egg, they believe they are the original, and so will no doubt be very confused and possibly upset by whatever happens next.

The Leap Yeap

Evansville Press, Indiana, February 5, 1912

The leap yeap is considered native to the plains of the lush world of Varasla, although scholars have documented the creatures on other worlds. A leap yeap appears as a cross between a rabbit and a kangaroo, albeit the end result is as large as a Clydesdale. Although the creatures roam wild across the plains, they have also been domesticated as mounts and pack animals and so may be found in settlements outside their native range. (For example, although they are not native to the mountains, travelers have found them to make good, sure-footed mounts in uneven terrain. Some long-haired varieties have even been bred for colder climates and higher altitudes.)

Although they tend to be skittish rather than aggressive, the occasional leap yeap-related death is not unknown; their hind legs can deliver a powerful kick, and their claws are sharp enough to disembowel victims.

BECMI-style stats:

No. Enc.: 1d6 (5d6)
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 180' (60')
Armor Class: 7
Hit Dice: 3
Attacks: 2 (1 bite, 1 kick)
Damage: 1d4/1d4
Save: F2
Morale: 6
Hoard Class: None
XP: 50
Leap yeaps are skittish animals, found both roaming in herds or alone as mounts. They can leap up to 30', and often do if frightened—a riot of stamping feet and screeching.

5e-style stats:

Leap Yeap
Large beast, unaligned
Armor Class 13
Hit Points 22 (3d10+6)
Speed 50 ft.
Str 13 (+1), Dex 17 (+3), Con 15 (+2), Int 2 (-4), Wis 11 (+0), Cha 7 (-2)
Skills Perception +2
Senses passive Perception 12
Languages —
Challenge 1/2 (100 XP)
Standing Leap. The leap yeap’s long jump is up to 30 feet and its high jump is up to 15 feet, with or without a running start.
Actions
Kick. Melee Weapon Attack: +3 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 6 (2d4+1) slashing damage.
Bonus Actions
Skittish. The leap yeap takes the Disengage, Dodge, or Hide action.

Greed in the Heart, Doom in the Mouth

I published a post on Monday and will publish another on Friday that are both blathering about the state of the industry. (The Short Answer: It's the same mess as it ever was.)

Both pieces elsewhere in the week are serious, so I'm hard-pressed to pay the Joesky tax on those posts, but I'm posting it here. Since a lot of my current content is bound up in scattered notes, 5e statblocks, and other such ephemera, I went with the recent Joesky tax writing prompts from Throne of Salt. (I rolled a 16 and a 52, if you're into that sort of thing.)

Timely!

The Avarice Beast

Have you ever met someone who hates? A real Ebenezer Scrooge-style bastard, someone who just takes and takes and takes. A bottomless pit for food, money, and affection.

Most of the time, these are just standard-style jerks, but occasionally, their festering hatred is almost a disease unto itself. (This usually occurs in men and always in humans. Whatever affliction menaces men is unknown to demi-humans. So far as we know.) Physicians have occasionally found small calcified stones in their hearts, the beginning of some sort of bezoar. (These bezoars are prized by alchemists for love potions, potions that allow the imbiber to smell gold as some dwarfs do, or other preparations that enhance the user's ability to covet.)

But the bezoar is less an accretion and more an egg. If the avaricious wretch continues on its path, the bezoar will continue to grow. (Any amount of genuine affection will halt or even reverse the bezoar's growth at this point. It's not too late for a redemption arc.) During this time, the person might notice a shortness of breath or increased fatigue, but most of them are so sedentary that they never notice the change.

Eventually, the egg will hatch.

If it hatches, the miser is living on borrowed time. The creature always hatches in the person's sleep and latches into the heart muscle. From there, it starts taking over the function of the heart over the course of a month. (It is apparent as a dark stain in the heart muscle, eventually turning the heart completely black. Once it has devoured the heart and assumed its function, it looks like a shriveled but overlarge dead fetus implanted into the circulatory tissue, curled in the middle of the victim's chest.) If the person is slain during this time, the creature cannot survive without the host, and will probably die within a matter of hours.

The creature will continue to consume additional nutrients (and negative emotions) from the host, growing to full size in 4d4 weeks. At that time, it messily tears itself out of the chest cavity, unfurling to the size of a small dog, all black skin and gristle and bone. It seems slick with moisture, but whatever is upon it either evaporates quickly or is merely the sheen of its skin.

(No doubt a number of alleged serial killings and botched robberies are actually the work of avarice beasts birthing themselves.)

From there, it begins its nightly hunts. It is a patient and cunning predator, seeking not only food but to cause the most harm possible. It typically targets people who will be missed, often children or lovers, stalking a lone child or half of a couple silently. When they are alone, it will strike quickly, snatching them away to be swiftly devoured. It will either leave their remains near where they disappeared, or in some other place where the family can find them.

Within the span of a week, the avarice beast will hunt enough to grow to roughly the size of a human. The upper limit of its lifespan is unknown.

Avarice beasts are intelligent, and understand the languages of their former hosts. They cannot speak, but can attempt a sort of mimicry, often mimicking children's laughs or cries, or speaking words and phrases of a couple of syllables. ("Come here" or "help me" are frequent favorites.) When the creature becomes aware that people are becoming aware of its activities, it often hitches a ride underneath a cart or other conveyance to leave town as soon as it is able. (On the road, it will hunt by night. In a bit of dark irony, having an avarice beast silently hiding among a caravan is good luck, as the creature often hunts or frightens any random encounters that might occur by night.)

It is entirely possible an avarice beast may not even originate from the town in which it is found.

The Avarice Beast: AC 15, Move 120’, HD 3+3, claw/claw/bite 1d6/1d6/1d8, Morale 10. Climb walls 99%, hide in shadows 95%, move silently 95%. Surprises on 5-in-6.

The Conch of the Damned

Recovered from an ancient shipwreck in the Weeping Bay outside Sorgforge, the conch of the damned is a wicked version of the horn of Valhalla, a way to summon the spirits of the dead to defend the user.

The conch's interior is gilded, and the exterior is decorated with black opals carved to resemble human skulls. When blown, 4d6 zombies arrive within 1d3 rounds, either staggering from the sea if it is in range, or arising from the ground if it is not. (If you want to draw parallels between the conch of the damned and the horn of Valhalla, make the zombies appear as draugr, dead Norse warriors.) They will follow the conch owner's commands for one hour; at the end of this time, they will turn and attack the blower of the conch and their companions, seeking to seize the conch. Where they take it afterward is unknown; in all likelihood, it is placed in some other remote place to cause ruin.

Assuming a conch blower survives the shell's curse, smart conch blowers will typically use the zombies for one task, then order them to destroy one another. Still, there is always the chance that one will not have the opportunity to do such a thing, or that the dead will still come for the conch eventually...

Alacritous Ogre

Here is an intensely stupid conversation from a couple of weeks ago.

A friend of mine was watching the above speedrun, and given Shrek's movement speed, conversation turned to, "How terrifying is a permanently hasted ogre?"

Now your players can find out.

BECMI-style Stats:

(as modified from Labyrinth Lord)
No. Enc.: 1d6 (2d6)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 180' (60')
Armor Class: 4
Hit Dice: 4 + 1
Attacks: 2 (club)
Damage: 1d10
Save: F4
Morale: 10
Hoard Class: XX + 1,000 gp
XP: 290

Ogre culture is as described on page 90 of Labyrinth Lord, except these ogres live at double-speed. Weird, smelly, violent, giant-sized speed-freaks.

5e-style Stats:

Alacritous Ogre

Large giant, chaotic evil

Armor Class 13 (natural armor)

Hit Points 59 (7d10+21)

Speed 80 ft.

Str 19 (+4), Dex 8 (-1), Con 16 (+3), Int 5 (-3), Wis 7 (-2), Cha 7 (-2)

Skills Athletics +6

Senses darkvision 60 ft., passive Perception 8

Languages Common, Giant

Challenge 2 (450 XP)

Evasion.  If the ogre is subjected to an effect that allows it to make a Dexterity saving throw to take only half damage, it instead takes no damage if it succeeds on the saving throw, and only half damage if it fails.

Actions

Multiattack.  The ogre makes two weapon attacks.

Greatclub.  Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target.  Hit: 13 (2d8+4) bludgeoning damage.

Javelin.  Melee or Ranged Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 5 ft. or range 30/120 ft., one target.  Hit: 11 (2d6+4) piercing damage.

Ghosts as Forensics

I caught the inaugural episode of Relics & Rarities the other day, and since their first adventure takes place in a haunted house, it got me thinking about ghosts.

(I've included the video below for the interested, but first the obligatory warning: it's a little over two hours, and streaming elfgames is somewhat different in format than what you might be used to doing at the table.  People who produce RPG content for the camera tend to make more linear stories, and their players bring a little less mayhem than normal.  The one below isn't a livestream, so it even has multiple cameras and editing!)

(Also, in case it needs to be said: this post represents my view on ghosts.  If you like your restless dead, ghosts-as-the-looming-spectre-of-death, keep liking them!)

But anyway, thinking about ghosts.  I often think of ghosts as being boring, but that doesn't quite strike at the heart of the matter.  (Chuck Wendig has an old post about hating seafood until he encountered good seafood, and I think that applies here.)  A lot of authors use ghosts as yet another weird monster or bit of set dressing, a spooky, incorporeal antagonist to be exorcised by the end of the story, which seems like low-hanging fruit.  Once you've encountered one or two hauntings, you know the typical schtick: the monster's vague hints and warnings get increasingly dire until they become physically dangerous, and then the protagonists somehow exorcise the ghost from the place.

(That's probably also a critique of lazy storytelling in general: I love vampires, but I've watched a lot of bad vampire movies.  It's clear that the guy just said, "Let's add a vampire!" with no real thought as to why they're doing it.  So it is with ghosts.  You can't just press the ghost button and hope spookiness falls out.)

Many authors smarter than I have devoted wordcount to how monsters mean things, but that symbolic language isn't precisely universal.  Vampires represent the fear of rape, except that they used to represent disease before Carmilla and Dracula made vampires sexy rather than gross.  (And that ultimately led to modern variants such as vampire-as-ultra-capitalist or vampire-as-sexpot.  Symbolism is weird.)  Zombies and revenants used to be the fear of disappointing our ancestors or retribution beyond the grave, but now they're the pestilential dead, or widespread ignorance made manifest.  Werewolves are anxieties about the wilderness, but they also represent fears about the sociopaths who lurk among us, but they might also be potent warriors in some of the older tales.  (Fears about them might represent old soldiers with PTSD, maybe?)

In that schema, one might expect the traditional role of the ghost is to remind us all of mortality and the debt we owe to our ancestors.  But I tend not to find the first particularly frightening.  (Aren't most monsters ultimately tied up in the fear of death?  That really encroaches on the ghost's niche, doesn't it?)  The second part — the ghost-as-tie-to-the-ancestors — seems infinitely more interesting.

Ghosts are typically created when something tragic happens, cursed to wander until the wrong is righted.  Sometimes that just means that their deaths went unacknowledged, but it usually means that something bad happened.  Ghosts, then, are the ancestors calling out to the modern era for justice.

Ghosts are forensic evidence.

I've previously discussed the possibilities of old epochs interacting with our own, and the fact that it's a recurring subject suggests that I dig my D&D flavored with sad geologic time à la Patrick Stuart.  (I do.)  But in this schema, ghosts aren't scary monsters to fight so much as the remaining thread of evidence that something terrible has occurred.

In stories, that usually means that ghosts are terrifying until you figure out what they want — you often start out thinking it's a traditional ghost story until the reveal that the ghost just wants you to solve its murder.  (Wasn't there an entire subgenre of psychic detective shows in the mid-2000s?)

In RPGs, that means ghosts are puzzles to be solved.  More importantly for a game in which you sit around a table talking to each other, ghosts mean you can talk to the evidence.  That means they can tell you things standard forensic evidence can't: thoughts, feelings, names.  Conversations also tend to stick in the memory in a way descriptions don't: a list of facts is going to be hard to remember without writing it down, but you'll probably remember the flow of a conversation, even if it's a little weird.  Plus, a ghost describing its own murder is probably more memorable than just coming across a body with no personalization.

(Another reason why RPGs are great: there are often multiple ways to deal with ghosts.  Low-powered characters have to deal with ghosts on their own terms and unravel the puzzle of their existence.  High-powered parties can always resort to punching ghosts, or using magic to lay them to rest, or whatever recourse they have.  Any good RPG usually has a couple of different games hidden in its matrix.)

You can never really give away too much information as a GM, but if you're worried about it, ghosts are often addled, or have facts they can't quite recall.  Keep in mind all the ways that people can misremember information, or the limits of an individual's perception.  (Rewatch Rashomon.)

If you're fine with restless ghosts being just another monster to fight, they can absolutely work that way, but folklore and the Monster Manual are filled with tons of monsters, including many that can go incorporeal or possess people.  It seems better to play to the themes that ghosts reflect: use them to reveal ties to the past and evidence of past tragedies.  Another piece of the past with which players characters can interact.

I'll leave you with a couple of examples:

The above adventure, "The Haunting of Benthem Manor," features an evil ghost that has possessed a woman whom the PCs need to contact for further information.  While it culminates in a fight against the aforementioned evil ghost, the bulk of the session involves going around the house solving puzzles and talking to the ghosts of other victims.

James Maliszewski's The Cursed Chateau takes a similar tactic, hiding many of the clues regarding the house's history among the (ghostly) household staff.  Of course, since the ghosts are all mad, interacting with them is... unpredictable.

The protagonist in Crimson Peak surmises (correctly) the apparitions tormenting her are actually trying to warn her of the danger in the titular manor.  (For that matter, it appears the dead have some knowledge of the future, as they try to warn her about it long before she ever goes there.)

Basic Red's Monster Draft

Haven't just posted random stuff from around the blogosphere as much as I used to, but I can tell this is going to be a sweet project.  Basic Red is instituting a monster draft where he recruits the 100 best monsters across all D&D-ish things and makes that his Monster Manual henceforth.  He'll eventually clean them up, give them basic stats and whatever write-ups they merit, and stick them in a big pdf.  The first entry is here.  Berserkers rather than orcs?  A strong choice.

It's not really an opinion I've expressed on the blog, but I fully support this, because most monsters are just slight variations of other monsters.  Like, once you have orcs are rampaging hordes, goblins dig hierarchies, and kobolds dig traps, why do you need other humanoids?  (Although, to jump on the LotFP bandwagon, why do you need humanoids at all; human cultures can rampage, dig hierarchies, and love traps, and sometimes do all these things at once!  Humanoids are just there to look weird and let the GM do silly voices, which is admittedly its own reward.)

Watch this space, is what I'm saying.

Flailceratops for D&D 5e

Since I've been running fifth edition a fair amount, my version of the Temple of the Snail is likely to be there, located in the Heathwood of the Sorrowfell Plains.  Since it gets referenced, here's a fifth edition-compatible version of the flailceratops from Vornheim:

This time with sick Aeron Alfrey art!

Flailceratops
Huge monstrosity, unaligned
Armor Class 14 (natural armor)
Hit Points 152 (16d12+48)
Speed 30 ft.
Str 22 (+6), Dex 9 (-1), Con 17 (+3), Int 2 (-4), Wis 11 (+0), Cha 5 (-3)
Senses blindsight 60 ft., tremorsense 60 ft., passive Perception 10
Languages —
Challenge 10 (5,900 XP)
Trampling Charge.  If the flailceratops moves at least 20 feet straight toward a creature and then hits it with a flail head attack on the same turn, that target must succeed on a DC 15 Strength saving throw or be knocked prone.  If the target is prone, the flailceratops can make one stomp attack against it as a bonus action.

Actions
Multiattack.  The flailceratops either makes three flail head attacks against any targets of its choosing, or a stomp and a tail attack against different targets.
Flail Head.  Melee Weapon Attack: +9 to hit, reach 10 ft., one creature.  Hit: 25 (3d12+6) bludgeoning damage.
Stomp.  Melee Weapon Attack: +9 to hit, reach 10 ft., one creature.  Hit: 22 (3d10+6) bludgeoning damage.  The target must make a DC 15 Strength saving throw or be knocked prone.
Tail.  Melee Weapon Attack: +9 to hit, reach 10 ft., one creature.  Hit: 19 (3d8+6) bludgeoning damage.

The Decapus for D&D 5e

The Tortle Package from DM's Guild includes information on a region in Tomb of Annihilation, stats for the Tortle race, and a couple of assorted bits and bobs.  To my surprise, the pdf also includes stats for the decapus (that links to the Pathfinder version), the monster first introduced in Palace of the Silver Princess and illustrated on the cover by the legendary Erol Otus:

Love the vibrant, unwholesome Erol Otus colors.

The fifth edition version of the decapus is large — both AD&D and Pathfinder list the size as "medium," although that Erol Otus picture suggests it's probably "large" — and basically attacks as one would expect.  It clings to walls and swings from trees, grabbing prey with its tentacles and biting them.  It deals more damage when it's climbing and more of its tentacles are free.

However, the original is described as being intelligent; both AD&D and Pathfinder suggest it's of average intelligence, an ambush predator with the capacity for human tactics.  (Pathfinder also gives it the ability to mimic sounds it hears, which is incredibly cool.)  Very different from the large, agile predator in the Tortle Package.

It just so happens that I cobbled together stats for the decapus over a month ago for a game I'm going to run over the holidays, and so I'll present them here.  These stats are partially adapted from both the Pathfinder version (above) and 5e SRD version.  This version of the decapus is smaller and not as tough as the official 5e version, but played correctly, is potentially scarier as it creeps around, making noises to attract the PCs and then picking them off one-by-one.

Pick the one you want, or use both.  Maybe the "official" version is some throwback (a dire decapus?), with the more intelligent version being a highly-evolved specimen.

Decapus

"Decapi are solitary creatures that dwell in ruins, caverns, or dense forest (where their climbing ability gives them great mobility through the tree canopy for pursuing prey or evading predators). On the ground, decapi are slow-moving, so they spend most of their time among the tree tops or hanging from ceilings.

"As nocturnal hunters, decapi are quite fond of human, elf, and halfling flesh. When food is scarce, they can exist on a diet of rats, snakes, and other small creatures or dungeon denizens.

"Decapi prefer a solitary life; the only time more than one will ever be encountered together is during their infrequent mating season. Young decapi are born live, and the female gives birth to only a single young decapus during each mating season. If food is extremely scarce, some decapus females have been known to eat their young.

"This creature’s body is a 4-foot-diameter globe of pallid green. Some have been reported with purple or yellow coloring, but they are rare. Dark brown or black hair grows in seemingly random patches. Regardless of its body color, each decapus has 10 tentacles similar to an octopus’s protruding from its spherical body. Each tentacle is covered in suction cups that aid the creature in climbing and moving trees, but also in catching and killing its prey. Its large wide maw sports sickly yellow teeth and foul breath. Decapi seem to be able to speak with others of their kind using guttural noises."

(In the AD&DMonstrous Manual, the decapi language is described as clicking and body movement.)

A decapus hunts with its mimicry ability. When it senses potential prey nearby, it emits sound intended to draw unwary creatures within reach of its tentacles. Usually this involves a creature that will elicit sympathy from the prey being threatened somehow. For example, when typical humanoid adventurers approach, the decapus is likely to create the sounds of a child surrounded by hungry wolves or of a young woman or man being terrorized by bandits.

Medium aberration, chaotic evil

Armor Class 15 (natural armor)

Hit Points 44 (8d8+8)

Speed 10 ft., climb 30 ft.

Str 16 (+3), Dex 13 (+1), Con 15 (+2), Int 10 (+0), Wis 11 (+0), Cha 12 (+1)

Skills Deception +3, Stealth +3

Senses darkvision 60 ft., passive Perception 10

Languages Decapus

Challenge 2 (450 XP)

Brachiation.  A decapus can move through trees at its climb speed (30 feet per round) by using its tentacles to swing from tree to tree, provided the trees are no more than 10 feet apart.

Mimicry.  A decapus can mimic any sounds it has heard, including voices.  A creature that hears the sounds can tell they are imitations with a successful DC 13 Wisdom (Insight) check.

Actions

Multiattack.  The decapus makes four tentacle attacks.

Tentacles.  Melee Weapon Attack: +5 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target.  Hit: 6 (1d6+3) bludgeoning damage, and the target is grappled (escape DC 13).  The decapus can grapple up to four targets in this fashion, grappling a single target with every pair of tentacles.

I Want a New Duck

There was a conversation over at the Unknown Armies Fan Club, and somebody posted these poor Swedish translations over pictures of birds.  One thing led to another, and the Tomb Duck was born.

The tomb duck is a duck that has felt the touch of ultimate evil, rather like an anatine version of a bodak.  Like regular ducks, they tend to hang out by the water, although their aversion to sunlight means they are typically only found underground, or at night.

Tomb Duck (Lamentations of the Flame Princess/OSR)
AC 14 (AC 8 in AD&D), HD 1d4, Move 60', Fly 270', Morale 12
Attacks: Death Gaze (victims within 30' that meet the tomb duck's gaze make a saving throw vs. paralyzation or die)
Tomb ducks are immune to charm, hold, sleep, slow, and poison.  They have infravision to 180 feet.  Tomb ducks take 1 point of damage per round from direct sunlight and are turned as undead.

Tomb Duck (Dungeon Crawl Classics)
Tomb Duck: Init +0; Atk special (see below); AC 12; HD 1d4; MV 15’, Fly 90'; Act 1d20; SP immune to charm, hold, sleep, slow, and poison, infravision 180'; SV Fort +0, Ref +0, Will +2; AL C.
A tomb duck attacks with its vicious death gaze.  Anyone within 30 feet meeting the tomb duck's gaze must make a DC 10 Fort saving throw or else be instantly slain.  Tomb ducks take 1 point of damage per round from direct sunlight and can be turned.

Doll Baby (Unnatural Entity)

The following is an unnatural entity for Unknown Armies.  Stats are for third edition, but conversion for first and second editions are provided.  As always, feedback is welcome.

Nobody is entirely certain, cosmologically speaking, what happens to a fetus that miscarries. (If the Supreme Court can't agree on it, what makes you think the occult underground would do any better?) Conventional wisdom suggests that they pass beyond the Veil just like any other decedent. However, there are rumors that sometimes, the parents' grief and love and anguish keeps the ghost from passing beyond the Veil. Weirdly, some occult scholars claim these form the basis of legends of the Fair Folk (see Postmodern Magick, pg. 129-131), but some claim that under the right circumstances, the fetal ghost can become a Doll Baby. (The "right circumstances" aren't well known, but it's suspected that it's any stillbirth wherein the parents are upset enough to turn it into a power-object fixation. Does mom carry around a doll and refer to it as her dead child? There's a strong possibility that child will become a Doll Baby.  Granted, nobody knows because the circumstances required to make a Doll Baby are intensely rare and few people even know about them.)

Doll Babies flit around the astral plane, nearly invisible, trying desperately to find the appropriate emotional resonance to feed. ("Feed" might be a strong term; the Doll Baby wants to live the life it missed, but in this case, feeding is a relevant enough analogy.) Specifically, Doll Babies feed on the parental instincts of those without children — a child playing with a baby doll and miming taking care of it is a potential candidate, although two teenagers taking care of one of those artificial babies is an even more potent resonance.

Once the Doll Baby has found suitable foster parents, it gets to work. To maintain the emotions it needs to stay on this side of the Veil, the Doll Baby implants the suggestion that the parents are loving parents, and they should try to have a child. The Doll Baby feeds on emotions throughout this process, but its ultimate goal is to live the life it missed by any means necessary. Most Doll Babies do this by attempting to possess the conceived child in utero or as it's born.  If a Doll Baby fails, it usually leaves; most occultists assume it expends the last of its energy, and so either dissipates or passes beyond the Veil.

Doll Babies have enough psychic oomph to permanently throw out the soul of the possessed child, but at the end of the day, they're basically just revenants.  Once they find themselves in a familial situation, they have little volition for anything else — such are typically quiet, often nonverbal, and occasionally catatonic.  Such children are often erroneously diagnosed with autism.

There are unsubstantiated reports of potent Doll Babies able to possess the actual dolls themselves and create Unnatural Phenomena, but so far, no one has proven such things.

[Stats below are for UA3. For previous edition stats, you can just use the generic stats for Revenants (UA1, pg. 154, or UA2, pg. 305). A resisted Soul check against the parents can instill the desire to have a baby; a resisted Soul check against the baby possesses it. (Possession rules can be found in demon section, UA1, pg. 147-149, or UA2, pg. 220-222.)  Assume babies have Soul 10 for the purposes of resisting possession.]

Doll Baby (Significant)
Raging against the dying of the light
Wound Threshold: 30
Instill Love 50%: The Doll Baby rolls this ability to instill parents with the desire to have children.  It works just like a coercion attempt: either the parents can start family planning, or take a rank-5 Self challenge.
Possession 30%: The Doll Baby rolls this to attempt to possess an unborn or recently-born child.  It if fails, the Doll Baby leaves and never returns.
Urge 30%: Doll Babies have an Urge stat, relating to being part of a family.  Outside of a body, they're astral voyeurs; inside a body, they try to be the warm center around which a family gathers.

The Slender Man for D&D 5e

The other day, I made a post about D&D 4e stats for the Slender Man, and Trey requested D&D 5e statistics.

Well, here we go.  Note that killing the Slender Man may not kill it, but instead banishes it back to its point of origin.  In such a case, further steps would need to be taken to permanently destroy the creature — there's a long-standing rumor that the Slender Man is some manner of psychic entity from the Astral Plane, and must be confronted on that plane to be permanently slain.

Unsurprisingly, this version of the Slender Man owes a lot of its lineage to Marble Hornets' Operator.  Like the Operator, this Slender Man is probably best used as an antagonist when the (low-level) PCs stumble across its lair or cultists.  It then performs weird, quick, blitz-style attacks, appearing at inopportune and seemingly random times to menace the PCs.  It usually aims to frighten or wound rather than kill, reserving murder for anything that seems truly capable of threatening it.  (Such as high-level PCs that come poking around its lair to put an end to it once and for all.)

The Dungeon Master probably wants to determine its agenda, if any.  It might have a goal that drives it (the fact that it occasionally dominates cultists suggests it seeks worship or validation somehow), or maybe it's just a hyper-intelligent beast that feeds on the fear its presence causes.  (Maybe it's even a psychic entity that requires minds to think of it, lest it winks out of existence.  It would certainly explain why areas and people tainted with its influence count as "associated objects" when it uses its teleport power.)

And at least a couple of cagers have suggested its ability to maze people, its penchant for dismemberment, its complete silence, and its odd locomotion suggest kinship with the Lady of Pain somehow...

The Slender Man
Medium monstrosity (plant), neutral evil
Armor Class 18
Hit Points 187 (25d8+75)
Speed 0 ft., teleport 30 ft.
Str 16 (+3), Dex 22 (+6), Con 16 (+3), Int 22 (+6), Wis 19 (+4), Cha 17 (+3)
Saving Throws Dex +11, Int +11
Skills Insight +9, Intimidation +8, Perception +9, Stealth +11
Damage Resistances bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing from nonmagical weapons
Senses blindsight 120 ft., tremorsense 120 ft., passive Perception 19
Languages telepathy 120 ft.
Challenge 13 (10,000 XP)
Grappler.  The Slender Man has advantage on attack rolls against any creature grabbed by it.
Nonterrene Consumption.  The Slender Man does not require air, food, drink, or sleep.
Shapechanger.  The Slender Man can alter its body proportions at will, extruding appendages or altering its size to Small or Large.
Sigma Radiation.  Any humanoid that starts its turn within 30 feet of the Slender Man must make a DC 19 Constitution saving throw.  On a failed save, the creature is poisoned for 1 minute.  A creature can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, with disadvantage if the Slender Man is still in its presence, ending the effect on itself on a success.  If a creature's saving throw is successful or the effect ends for it, the creature is immune to the Slender Man's Sigma Radiation for the next 24 hours.
Teleportation.  Three times per day, the Slender Man can innately teleport as per the spell (PHB, pg. 281), requiring no components.  If the Slender Man is teleporting to its lair or to the location of someone it has encountered and is stalking, it is considered to have an associated object with regard to its destination.  (100% chance of teleporting on-target.)

Actions
Multiattack.  The Slender Man makes three tendril attacks.
Tendril.  Melee Weapon Attack: +11 to hit, reach 10 ft., one target.  Hit: 14 (2d8+6) bludgeoning damage, and the target is grappled (escape DC 19).  Until this grapple ends, the creature is restrained.

Legendary Actions
The Slender Man can take 3 legendary actions, choosing from the options below.  Only one legendary action option can be used at a time and only at the end of another creature's turn.  The Slender Man regains spent legendary actions at the start of its turn.
Missing Time.  A targeted creature must succeed on a DC 19 Wisdom saving throw, or else take 13 (3d8) damage and become removed from time for 1 minute.  While removed from time, a creature disappears and is incapacitated.  A creature can repeat the saving throw, with disadvantage, at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on itself on a success.
Slender Sickness.  One creature poisoned by the Slender Man must succeed on a DC 19 Constitution saving throw or else take 13 (3d8) damage, fall prone, and become incapacitated for 1 minute.  This effect ends if the creature is no longer poisoned.

The Slender Man's Lair

The Slender Man's lair is usually either an abandoned ruin made by humanoid hands, or a wooded area away from civilization.  (Frequently, however, this wooded area is poorly-traveled, but not so remote as to be unreachable.)  Even in woods, however, it frequently lairs among the detritus of civilization — an abandoned shack, a crumbling tower, a ruined fort.  The Slender Man encountered in its lair has a challenge rating of 15 (13,000 XP).

Lair Actions

When fighting inside its lair, the Slender Man can invoke the ambient magic to take lair actions.  On initiative count 20 (losing initiative ties), the beholder can take one lair action to cause one of the following effects:

• The Slender Man targets any creatures that can see it within 120 feet of it with a fear effect.  Affected targets must succeed on a DC 19 Wisdom saving throw or be frightened by the Slender Man.  The creature can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, ending the effect on itself on a success.  The Slender Man can't use this lair action again until it has used a different one.
• The Slender Man targets one creature that can see it within 120 feet of it with a mind-influencing effect.  The target must succeed on a DC 19 Wisdom saving throw or be charmed by the Slender Man.  The charmed target regards the Slender Man as a potent being capable of granting great enlightenment or power, and is inclined to assist it to further curry its favor.  If the Slender Man attempts to take action against the target, it can repeat the saving throw with advantage.  The charm effect lasts 24 hours, or until the Slender Man is banished, is destroyed, is on a different plane of existence than the target, or takes a bonus action to end the effect.  The Slender Man cannot use this lair action again until the charmed condition is ended on the initial target.
• The Slender Man casts maze (no components needed; PHB, pg. 258-259) on one target that can see it within 120 feet of it.  While maintaining concentration on this effect, the Slender Man can't take other lair actions.

Regional Effects

The region surrounding the Slender Man's lair is warped by the creature's presence, which creates one or more of the following effects:

• Trees within 1 mile of the Slender Man's lair become twisted and spindly.
• Buildings within 1 mile of the Slender Man's lair become increasingly decrepit, and are frequently vandalized.
• Creatures within 1 mile of the Slender Man's lair make saving throws against the frightened effect at disadvantage.

If the Slender Man dies or is banished, these effects fade over the course of a year.

The Slender Man for D&D 4e

About three-and-a-half years ago, I wrote an article on the Slender Man, with a focus on using him in fantasy settings.

Well, guess what?  I used him in a fantasy setting.

The Crux of Eternity group suffered a near-TPK at the hands of some giants, and so I wrested an old, forgotten plot thread — another group was attempting to find a fey noble who was lost while seeking a legendary artifact — and had the remnants of one group run into the aftermath of the other.  They allied to continue their separate quests, but the fey noble was being followed by the Slender Man.

He's a difficult fight all by his lonesome, but he showed up with a couple of corrupt druids and their treant allies.  Anyway, without further ado:

Also: The Slender Man on Obsidian Portal

Also, in related news: we may be updating the Crux group to 5e.  I've enjoyed 4e, but the long, slogging combats are beginning to grate.  We'll stick with 4e for at least the next session, but I think we're going to try the switch in a session or two.

Edit: Interested parties may wish to see the Slender Man for 5e.

Happy Thanksgiving from the Wendigo!

In honor of Thanksgiving in the United States, I offer you a Compendium Class for Dungeon World: The Wendigo!  Based on the D&D 4e monster of the same name (detailed in the Demonomicon), the wendigo is a demon that possesses people who become cannibals.  Willing cannibals can channel the power of the demon such that they retain control of their faculties.

It's my first Compendium Class, so feedback is welcome.

So, without further ado, The Wendigo!

BOOOY!

So, I was thumbing through the Chaositech book when I came across statistics for "attack spheres," chaositech spheres that can be used to attack one's enemies.  Unsurprisingly, they sound a lot like Sentinel Spheres from Phantasm, so I was immediately intrigued.

Boooooooooy!

Well, naturally, something like that needs more stats (obviously), so I whipped up a quick D&D 4e stat block.  The things are designed to be quick and dangerous.  Enjoy!

The Carcosa Sessions

My D&D 4e group is just about finished in Carcosa, so I might as well post the encounters.  All told, there are fourteen encounters, most of which are with different groups of monsters (four encounters include Space Aliens, and two encounters include Green Men; the others are unique).  Some of these are homebrewed, some of them are reskinned 4e monsters, and some are from the 4e version of Gamma World.  You can direct any questions to the comments section of this post.

Check out the Encounters here.

The Cenobites of the Pleasure in Pain, the Hierophants of the Order of the Gash

Unsurprisingly, this was inspired by too many recent conversations about Hellraiser.  I decided I wanted a faction comparable to the Cenobites (also at The Other Wiki) in my D&D 4e game.  Here's what happened:

The Cenobites of the Pleasure in Pain, also known as the Hierophants of the Order of the Gash, is a shadar-kai cult of personality gathered around an entity known as the Architect of Pleasure and Pain, or alternately, the Engineer of Pleasure and Pain.  (Occasionally, this entity is called "Leviathan" for unknown reasons.)

The origins of this group are unknown.  Anyone's best guess is that the Cenobites (or Surgeons, as they are also known — they seem to be quite enamored of epithets) form from a confluence of three factors.  The first, is the shadar-kai themselves — when the shadar-kai first arrived in the Shadowfell, they found that they would fade away without strong emotions.  As such, they took to the extremes of living to maintain their own identities.

The second factor is a now-disbanded Sigil faction called the Society of Sensation.  Before they disbanded after the Faction War, the Sensates believed in experiencing all things to achieve enlightenment.  Despite their reputation as hedonists, they sought to experience all available experiences — positive and negative.  Although the Sensates as a group disbanded after the Lady of Pain's decree, some keep their traditions alive.  It is not precisely clear how a group of shadar-kai came across the beliefs of the Sensates, but the shadar-kai would easily take to their worldview of empirical thought and experiential enlightenment.

The third factor is the Architect itself.  This entity is apparently a somewhat potent baatezu, as those shadar-kai pledged to it are almost universally warlocks.  The Architect appears as a striking, sensual male humanoid with pale skin and leather clothing.  This figure appears to be constantly in a mixture of ecstasy and agony from the various hooks, pins, and piercings worked through its flesh.

Whatever their origins, the Cenobites typically keep to themselves in their own demiplane forged partially from the Shadowfell and partially from the Nine Hells.  However, they sometimes emerge to explore the boundaries of experience, and to proselytize their experiences to others.  While they consider themselves evangelists and explorers, most communities encountering the Cenobites consider them to be invaders and fiends of the worst sort, arcane torturers who typically leave their victims dead or worse.  The Marquis d'Ennui of Sorgtomb has a standing bounty on any Cenobites found in his domain.

The Cenobites usually travel between realms through the use of arcane puzzle boxes provided by the Architect.

Unbeknownst to the Cenobites, the Architect is actually an aspect of Belial, Lord of the Fourth and Lord of Pain and Sufferings.  Belial is using the Cenobites as a cult to further his goals, and also as a militant order in case he needs to counteract any plans of his scheming daughter, Fierna.  It is possible that Fierna controls a group similar to the Cenobites.

Playing a Cenobite

Cenobites are universally shadar-kai (Dragon 372, page 5) and almost always have the Sensate theme (Dragon 414).  They are usually of the warlock class (Player's Handbook), although some may not be directly bound to the Architect by contract.  Some Cenobites learn how to use a spiked chain; those who do take the Spiked Chain Training Feat (Dragon 372, page 11) and may take the associated Novice, Expert, and Specialist Feats as well.

Cenobites' warlock powers usually manifest as barbed chains appearing from their bodies or nearby shadows.

It is, of course, possible to play a former Cenobite (much like the typical repentant warlock character).  In such a case, the character is likely being hunted by his or her former comrades.

NPC shadar-kai appear, among other places, in Monster Manual and Monster Manual 2.

Enterprising DMs could use probably adapt the Cenobites for use in other editions of D&D.  The shadar-kai appear in the 3e Fiend Folio, while warlocks appear in Complete Arcane.  It is also possible that they could created using the rules for magic-users, clerics, elves, and suchlike in earlier editions.

The Life and Death of Large LeFarge

Well, this past weekend, my Crux of Eternity players killed notorious gang leader, Large LeFarge.  I previously mentioned Large LeFarge a while back, as well as giving him a shout-out on the Fantomist entry.

I'm particularly proud of him.  He came out of a desire to match the awesomeness of Bill the Butcher, but with a D&D twist.

So I made him a very, very angry pixie.

My favorite attack is his ability to throw pixie dust at people, causing them to float away.  The party's fighter ended up falling victim to this attack, floating around the room for several rounds before he finally saved against the effect and fell to the floor.

Without further ado, here's Large LeFarge (4e stats):

Pour out a little for our fallen homies.

Level 12 Encounter (XP 3500)

• Large Lefarge (level 10 solo soldier)
• 4 streetwise thugs (level 9 minion, Dungeon 161, pg. 32)
• 2 Waterdeep street thugs (level 7 soldier, Dungeon 171, pg. 96)

Jamming Spells in the Nine Hells

Another random update lacking in substance.  This time, I happened to find a couple of fourth edition treatments of the much beloved/reviled Giant Space Hamster from Spelljammer.

Here's one from d20 Monkey as part of an article on people playing D&D BadWrongFun:

And here's another from David Flor (this time in pdf).

Wednesday Werk: Xilmpa

In this week's Wednesday Werk, we'll look at the Xilmpa.

The Xilmpa are a conquering, warrior race of crocodilian humanoids.  Horror, disease, and destruction follow in their wake, but the reasons are unclear.  Some scholars seem to think they are cursed, while others believe they are infected with the raw soulstuff of the Elemental Chaos.

Partial credit.  The Xilmpa are known to enslave those they conquer for use in their mining operations, as their desire for rare minerals is insatiable.  Oddly, reports suggest they eat these materials.  For strength.

In fact, reports filter back from blasted wastes and ancient mines that the creatures ignore silver and gold, instead mining and eating a silvery-grey metal sometimes called the Dross of the Sun God, but also known as the Excrement of Pelor.

(If you clicked the second link, you'd know the stuff as uranium.)

Some claim the strange metal gives the creatures their strength.  Others suggest they're addicted to it.  Still others say they need it to survive.  Some say all these things are true.

Supposedly, a group of Xilmpa are mobilizing.  Even now, those in the know have offered a large bounty for any who can stop their quest, for the creatures supposedly seek an ancient holy site known as the Sun's Kingdom on Earth.  If they find it, they may be unstoppable.

(These creatures may also be found on Gamma Terra.  Assume they go looking for uranium deposits and other sources of radiation to feed.  At the DM's discretion, they might be cannibalistic, devouring other mutants for the high background radiation in their blood.  On second thought, you might just want to assume they eat people anyway, just to make them more unpleasant.)

In combat, the Xilmpa are efficient hunters.  They typically open with Geislun Auga, attempting to irradiate and weaken opponents before wading into melee.  They attack efficiently and make optimal use of group tactics; if several can surround one opponent, they will typically try to stack as many status effects as possible on that opponent to deal maximum damage.  If that is not possible, Claw is a favored attack as it deals a little extra damage.

DMs without access to Gamma World should assume that radiation damage is a unique damage keyword only found on things that are, well, radioactive.  Radiation damage is probably only a hazard in uranium mines, natural nuclear fission reactors, and the like (I recently updated Expedition to the Barrier Peaks to 4e, and included radiation damage there, too).  It is best described as a combination of disease, necrotic, poison, and radiant, but it is truthfully none of these.  Adventurers are only likely to encounter it with regard to the Xilmpa, and so probably will not have resistances or vulnerabilities to radiation, nor will they deal radiation damage; it simply allows the Xilmpa to persist in toxic environments of the DM's devising.

Additionally, enterprising DMs can create mutant Xilmpa strains in the same method as mutant Almas strains, as described in this Wednesday Werk post.  Simply swap out Geilsun Auga (actually a reskinned Das Gamma Auge Alpha Mutation) for another Alpha Mutation and you're ready to go.