Creature Feature 14: Still Lives

Contrary to the title, Still Lives actually appear to be portraits, most often of wizards and sorcerers. In fact, the painting is a twisted form of undead immortality. They are created when an especially talented artist paints the portrait using paints mixed with the subjects own bodily humors. Thus the subject's life is transferred to the canvas.

COMBAT:
A Still Live can move about in the 2D world within its frame, and cast any spells or spell-like powers it had in life. The gaze of a Still Live medusa can petrify, for instance. The Still Life can also stretch its canvas to form an upper torso with head and arms. Often they will lure prey close by holding still, or by claiming to be a trapped innocent, before launching off the wall to pummel and throttle.

Still Lives can feel their paint deteriorate and their canvas fray and slacken. They thirst for fresh bodily fluids, which rejuvenates their abhorrent materials. Most are created as guardians and traps, and thus powerful spell casters are usually chosen by the evil power that makes them. As a physical threat, the Still Live's fists are supernaturally strong, and it can break bones in its grappling embrace, especially when the painting is larger that life.

Creature Feature 13: Touring Ghosts

Up to bat again is Steph Cherrywell, who's second book through Slave Labor Graphics is now on Amazon. She's good. Go buy it.  In Steph's own words this time:  

The ghosts of those whose vacations were cut short by untimely death, these ghosts are "tied" to traveling, rather than to a specific place.  They haunt inns at night, messing up rooms and causing food to disappear, and popular tourist spots during the day.   The city elders usually want them hurried on their way, unless of course the most famous spot in town is a haunted house, in which case they might be looking for a way to make them stick around...

I see these as the D&D equivalents of your road ghosts - your Big Joes and Phantom 409s, your Hitchhiking Prom Queens, that sort of thing. The key here is the free roaming thing - most ghosts are haunting a specific place, but touring ghosts move around - in fact, they have to travel every bit as much as a focused haunting must stay put.

Don't sound like much of a problem? Maybe one or two wouldn't be. However, anyone who has taken an extended sabbatical will tell you tourists usually end up meeting other tourists. Then they stick together through the rest of the trip, and meet others. This snowballing effect means that, when touring ghosts come to your town, it may be in a spectral swarm.

Creature Feature 12: Iconovores

Hailing from the planes of Entropy, iconovores are a pestilent swarm of information-devouring memes. They are spread via communication - an intelligent being invested with iconovores will spread them to the next intelligence they communicate with. Thus, a book or other written message can sit for years, swarming with iconovores waiting for some hapless soul to glance within.

Once the memes are able to jump to a new host, be it a living mind or other form of communication, they annihilate the information contained in the old. A carrier's mind is often left in ruins, while the pages of a book might become blank. Often an unfortunate wizard has opened their spell book, only to watch it empty as iconovores invade their mind.

Iconovores have no physical presences on our plane. However, in the Ethereal they are visible within their host, as a mass of glowing tube worms constantly squirming through the synapses or glyphs they feed on. On the Ethereal they are quite defenseless, but will still damage the host if simply ripped loose. Only an instance death can promise the host's safety.

On the physical plane, destroying the host entirely will leave the iconovores floating free in the Ethereal. There they can try to infest ethereal creatures like Phase Spiders that can cross back to the physical and, with luck, communicate with something there.

Creature Feature 11: Trophy Ghoul

As evidenced by my being behind a day, I'm getting slammed with work this week. Thankfully, Steph Cherrywell has sent a few ideas to help out. This one's all Steph's.

Trophy Ghouls are created when the stuffed and mounted remains of animals killed for sport are raised. These undead beasts may be whole, or they may be only a part of the animal (like a mounted head). The later case can usually float, as can some smaller Trophy Ghouls such as fish. Pelts can become Trophy Ghouls - they move as if whole but can enfold and smother victims.

Art by Steph Cherrywell

COMBAT:
Trophy Ghouls often hold a grudge against their slayers, and will prefer them or their descendants over other targets. As former prey, however, they enjoy turning the table on any predator.

For the most part, the average Trophy Ghoul behaves much like a zombie - they are stiff and slow compared to living examples of their species, but hardy and strong. They retain the attacks they had in life. However, when destroyed they burst into noxious clouds of malevolent sawdust that hangs in the air, chasing down and choking the lungs of their foes in one last act of ill will. Fire will annihilate this cloud, and the Trophy Ghoul, for good.

Creature Feature 10: Glorpers

As undead horrors go, glorpers out-rival vampires for verisimilitude - they are entirely indistinguishable from the living. The only give away is the caution they must show against moderate impacts, and the appalling results should their caution fail. A glorper's body is a barely-contained mass of necrotic jelly, under intense pressure beneath the thin wall of force created by its own will to remain human. For this reason, glorpers move slowly, are terrified of dogs and children and avoid crowds and slippery surfaces. Some impacts will only partially burst them, and with enough feedings they can reconstitute the loss, but severe events like falling down stairs or being trampled will disperse them beyond what their will can reform. If the remnants of such unfortunates are not properly cleansed with purified water, they will remain conscious of their state for all eternity.

COMBAT:
Once a month a glorper must feed on enough subdued humans to satiate the necrotic jelly that forms it - otherwise the jelly destabilizes and the glorper cannot hold itself together. It feeds by draining constitution points as it seeps necrotic jelly onto the victim, melding with their own flesh and absorbing it. The glorper can let them live, but rarely does as few wish to spread their condition.

A glorper's jelly infects those that contact it with the condition. Each day they match their will against the infection; when they have failed enough times to equal their constitution they have fully succumbed and are now glorpers themselves.

Glorpers attack sleeping victims, always. If forced to fight, they will do so from a distance as they try to flee. A glorper is capable of launching one of the following as a missile each round - both eyes, the tongue, or as many fingers as it wishes. All burst on contact and risk infecting the target. The eyes do not leave the glorper blinded, but do instantly blind the target with no save for one day. The tongue makes the target mute for a day and nauseous for 5 rounds. Each finger does acidic damage. These limbs must all be regrown over the course of a month.

Any blow disables a glorper, but also splashes necrotic jelly five feet in each direction. Any blow dealing more that half its hit points will completely splatter it over a 10-foot radius. Pure water will dissolve it without this effect, in a one-to-one ratio.

Creature Feature 9: The Redshifter

A Redshifter is an extraplanar entity that warps gravity and time. Time slows the closer you get to one. The creature itself is almost pure red, and the area surrounding it and anything or one approaching it become increasingly red, while the rest of the world gets bluer as you approach it. This effect is caused by light slowing down as it nears it, and speeding as it escapes.

This means that the entity has already done anything you see it doing. From nearby, you see those further away doing things they haven’t done yet. The being itself seems able to warp this effect at will. Additionally, the creature can create a gravitational focus in front of it to pull objects towards it or to “slingshot” them away by letting them orbit the point, then releasing them. It cannot select what is pulled and what isn’t, other than itself. Finally, sound completely vanishes within 30 feet of the creature.

Redshifters are best described as “alien.” Their actions are unpredictable and impossible to comprehend. They are equally as likely to attack as ignore entirely, but on the few occasions more than one has been recorded, all have sought to slay one another.

Art by Steph Cherrywell

COMBAT:
 A Redshifter affects time. Mechanically, this means a few things. Initiative is rolled, but is severely warped - every five feet of distance from the creature subtracts 1 from the roll. If the creature is not yet 30 feet from its last place of cover, players likely aren’t even aware of it yet and if they are, they are under blind-fighting rules until time catches up. Only those within 15 feet see it where it currently is. All others remain under blind-fighting rules, missing if they specifically target where they see it. If further than 15 feet away and ACTUALLY blinded, they simply stand no chance of striking it, as they can’t infer its “next” move based on where it last was, and it makes no sound.

Once a a round, the creature can force one attack or other action involving it to be rerolled. The first roll never happened - this is merely a reflection of how confusing navigating time around the creature is.

The Redshifter can use its gravitational focus to hurl small stones or other objects at deadly speeds. It can also reflect ranged attacks back at the attacker. This is harder to do accurately the longer the range (and therefore higher the speed) of the missile. Even rays and some other magic attacks can be thus deflected, but they require the most effort.

The other use for the focus is to disarm or even bodily drag foes forward. When created, all creatures and objects within 45 are dragged forward 10 feet. The Redshifter can’t maintain a single focus longer without risking being struck from behind.

Since this gravitational focus is not selective, it usually leaves a tight ball of debris in its wake, which falls to the earth afterwards. It is possible to fire a missile of some type at the Redshifter while its creating a focus to deflect or drag something else, and strike the Redshifter unerringly.

Creature Feature 8: Opossum of the Grotto

(With thanks again to Kitty Lowrance)

Some say it’s only a myth, and others say it’s a real place. Still others believe it exists somewhere at the heart of every great swamp. It is a grotto, rising from the mist and the sludge to shelter a lone, albino opossum.

There are many who devout their lives to searching for this opossum, for it is said to be very wise and very magical. Some say it even holds sway over life and death, and can ferry souls back to this realm that seemed utterly annihilated.

However, to when the Opossum’s boon, one must first accept the Kiss. By kissing the Opossum, one is bound beneath an unbreakable geas to complete a task of the Opossum’s choosing. One cannot know what task they will be forced to do prior to the Kiss - if they are told to commit an atrocity they will have no choice but to carry it out. For this reason, only the foolish and the truly desperate seek the Grotto, and most die wandering the swamps long before they ever do.

COMBAT:
If attacked the Opossum will defend itself as an extremely powerful necromancer that favors direct attacks over summoning undead. However, it can and will summon various swamp creatures to aid it - will ‘o’ wisps, shambling mounds and rogue trents being most common. If slain, the Opossum’s influence over all those under the Kiss will briefly lift, until it returns in a new location months later, set on revenge.

Creature Feature 7: The Structured

Originating somewhere in the planes of pure Order is a great construction - a structure so perfect and untouched by entropy that mortal minds ache simply contemplating it. The forces that rule there loathe the state of the other planes - in truth the very existence of other planes less structured than their grand conception is proof that existence could be further improved on. Thus, the massive “city” is ever seeking to manifest within and restructure other realities.

On the front lines of the eons-old invasion are the Structured. The Structured are part-construct and part-organism, having been left less-than-”perfect” by the forces of the Still City to let them better operate in non-structured environments. Structured rarely, if ever, resemble the creature they once were - in fact multiple beings may have been combined, or one being may have been split into many. Usually the structured resemble platonic solids made of some species of flesh, with sensory organs on some surfaces and at least one limb or appendage of a metallic structure. This is usually a multi-purpose weapon.

COMBAT:

Structured capabilities vary by the purpose of the individual, but all usually have the following abilities. A Structured can emit an energy blast every three rounds, with the effect of either locking the target in a brief stasis, dispelling any magical effects, or dealing damage as body tissue is reorganized at an atomic level. The result of this last use is a non-healing wound that is covered in tiny blocks of carbon and other base elements. Note that none of these attacks are magical in nature - in fact, the Structured are surrounded in a permanent anti-magic field extending one foot in all directions.

Structured are always equipped with a gripping mechanism that can neatly remove flesh. All Structured are also capable of performing Restructuring - using materials taken from other life to repair themselves - and can even built simple new Structured in only a few rounds. Structured made from non-living tissue are small, weak and usually lack intelligence. A team of 5 can usually turn a living being into a full-powered new Structured in a half-hour’s time.

Creature Feature 6: The Waxen Image

Waxen Images are golem-like constructs made of living wax surrounding a specially-built lantern that acts as a skull. The lantern contains a blue flame - the driving essence of the creature - and is often magically shielded to prevent simple “create water” spells and the like from snuffing it out.

When created, a variation on the standard summoning spells is performed. Whatever the result of this spell would have been, is instead encoded into the Waxen Image and it takes on both the appearance and any special powers of that creature. Thus a Waxen Image of a cockatrice shares that monster's death gaze, and one of a lamia would resist magic. Even natural abilities, like sharp claws or venoms, are supernaturally replicated. Most Waxen Images have up to four forms imprinted, and may shift through them at will.

In addition to the powers of its stolen form, the Waxen Image heals damage rapidly by resealing cuts. Severed limbs become inert but can be reattached instantly. Only fire does lasting damage, melting away and annihilating the creature’s form. Still, it will attack until all wax is gone from the lantern.

Creature Feature 5: The False Moon

The False Moon is a rare type of giant arachnid, of the "Harvestmen" or "Daddy Longlegs" family. It’s also a chameleon: Its tremendously long legs and the smaller portions of the body shift tone to blend in with the night sky, while its most prominent feature - the great round orb of its rear thorax - is an almost perfect mimic of the moon, distorted to show the proper face to all directions. It’s bio luminescent and can even cast “shadows” over itself, or darken portions out to achieve the proper phase.

The False Moon primarily dines on stray wolves and other nocturnal creatures that are easily confused by it, but it will also stalk travellers moving after dark. It tries to wait for overcast nights when its competition is hidden, then attempts to mislead prey by making it appear they’re going in a different direction than they thought. It will repeat this behavior for nights, and eventually show itself even when the real moon is present, all in an effort to wear its food down.

COMBAT:

When a False Moon has tired of playing with its food, it will approach (the vision of the moon getting steadily bigger is disconcerting enough). Once close enough, it has enough reserves of what is dubbed “Lunar Venom” to spray the contact poison once. If the victim cannot resist the moderately strong drug, they will lose all willpower and become completely open to suggestions from the soft, whirring “voice” of the False Moon. This is usually a way to make prey hold still as they are eaten, but it can be used to make a party member turn on friends, in a sluggish zombie-like manner.

Another tactic of the False Moon is to stoop down, pick prey up with its mandibles, and stand at full leg extension - roughly 70 feet. It then releases the victim and watches them plummet.

Creature Feature 4: The Grounded Ghost

(A big, big thanks to Steph Cherrywell, who will be contributing art to these throughout the month! I also made a lot of this entry up based on the image she sent, so she gets extra double special credit for this one)

Many years ago a hoard of troll-like creatures swept through the land. They snatched up and devoured anything they encountered with their prehensile tongues, and tore down forests to build colossal fires for no discernible purpose. Armies that rode out to meet them were slaughtered, discovering too late that while the monsters could be slain, their spirits seeped into the earth with their blood, congealing below the surface and regenerating. Just as soldiers celebrated victory, a new wave of foes would rise from the dirt. Humans called it the Rippling War, because it was fought in a perfect, growing ring as the monsters spread every outward, leaving nothing but fire behind them.

Everything changed when the Druids appeared at the front lines of the Ripple. None realized so many existed until that day, and now most have forgotten the great roaring armies that poured from the forest. They came armed with scimitars of carved bone and long pikes of cedar core. As the monsters fell, the Druids rolled their corpses away and drove the pikes down into the dirt where they once lay. Soon the creatures realized something was wrong, and they retreated. For weeks the Druids hunted them, always marking the spot their blood fell with a cedar post. No new beasts rose, and the Rippling War was over.

Art by Steph Cherrywell

Most of the posts have weathered away, taking the spirit they pinned with them. Others have been buried by time, or paved over, or lost in great cataclysms. But there are some that remain, overgrown and worm eaten in the forest, or tall and lonely in a secluded glen. Disturb one, and you might hear a gruff voice ask your help. “You pull,” it may say, “and I’ll push!”

COMBAT:
Grounded Ghosts are actually ethereal creatures bound beneath the soil by a sacred cedar pole. They cannot move or take any action while the pole remains, and can only speak if the pole is touched or otherwise disturbed. Removing the pole or destroying it by any means will allow the monster to become corporeal again. It will be very hungry.

In the flesh, Grounded Ghosts are large, strong and tough. Their tongues are actually their throat turned out, and have a “mouth” on the end for dragging prey into their huge gullets. The tongue turns back in like a rolled sock as it retracts, enfolding the victim and eventually spitting them into its stomach. The beast can stretch to accommodate prey as big as it is, and prefers to eat things alive. It isn’t above pummeling prey to death or tossing them into a fire first if they struggle too much. Overall, Grounded Ghosts are obsessed with destruction, and will slay, burn and tear apart all they encounter. A free Ghost will likely seek out trapped kin.

Creature Feature 3: The Switch-Witch

EDIT: I am remiss for not crediting Kitty Lowrance for this one, as the concept was almost entirely her own, right down to the name.

These Fey are made of living hickory - extremely long supple branches forming the rough figure of a human. They are the height of an average human, but their lash-like fingers can reach up to 15 feet away to deposit welts on the flesh of their foes.

Switch-Witches grow when the cries of a child unjustly “switched,” spanked, struck or even beaten are heard by sympathetic Fey. These Fey plant the cries, then gather the child’s tears to water them. By the next twilight a Switch-Witch will have grown in the spot. It will then track down and whip the perpetrator mercilessly until dawn. Lashing them unconscious is enough - the Switch-Witch will wait until they recover enough to reawaken, then beat them back under, but won’t beat them to death unless they are attacked with enough power to potentially slay them.

A Switch-Witch will leave at dawn, but will return every night to repeat its retribution for a full lunar cycle. If slain, they’ll regrow from the same spot and return the next night. The only way to dispell them prematurely is to dig up the “seed.” The Switch-Witch itself will never lead anyone back to this spot - at dawn it simply wanders into the woods and dissolves into sticks. Only the child it is revenging can find the seed, via a supernatural intuition.

While the Switch-Witch may seem like a boon - a protector of the weak and small - one must remember it is Fey, and the blessings of the Fey are indistinguishable from their curses. The Switch-Witch punishes a light smack on the bottom that’s immediately regretted just as viciously as a severe beating from an unrepentant abuser. Furthermore, it will often decide anyone who could conceivably have contributed to the situation also need punishing - the rest of the household for not stopping it, someone who contributed to the perpetrator’s bad mood by being rude that day, or the wood wright that carved the paddle used could all wake up to the cruel caress of the Switch-Witch.

COMBAT:
A Switch-Witch can attack with both arms each round, using them as huge whips, with each of six fingers leaving angry red welts. They will tear cloth to shreds - padded armor will be destroyed by the first hit. Other kinds of armor are ignored as the Switch-Witch’s fingers always find gaps, seams and other ways around them. The damage dealt has the potential to be lethal, but the creature will only do enough damage to leave its victim unconscious. It will not extend this concern for anyone that tries to interfere.

Creature Feature 2: The Malignancy

Malignancies are pure hatred, spite and bitterness distilled and made corporeal. In fact, each one represents an entire lifetime of negativity, compressed into a tight wad of churning flesh. The creation of one requires the processing of both the soul and corpse of a humanoid that whiled away an entire lifetime in anger, in a method not dissimilar to refining grain alcohol.

The resulting being barely maintains the form of a human head, writhing with temporary sensory organs, digits and mouths that re-submerge just as quickly as they arise. Disturbingly, taken alone these pieces are often very attractive - supple lips, long dark eye-lashes and comely noses only add to the horror of the overall mass.

Malignancies float at roughly head-level, and it's not uncommon for the twisted sorcerers that make them to sew on expensive wigs, attach fine jewels and drape cloaks that trail below them and create the illusion of a full figure.  

COMBAT
Malignancies and corporeal undead, but their ooze-like nature allows them to ignore most bashing wounds, and quickly seal up other kinds of damage.

Each mouth unleashes a string of intensely foul curses that assault the will of its victims, trying to drag them into the same spiral of misery that birthed it. By focusing its fueling force, it can also spawn a great black orb of an eye, filled with such supernatural loathing that its gaze can boil flowing blood, damaging the constitution of it's target. This assault is particularly draining, though, and weakens the creature equally. The Malignancy is primarily interested in feeding on the facial tissue of its victims, though. It will try to weaken them via other attacks, then get close enough to use it's multiple bite attacks until killing the prey.

Curiously, the Malignancy seems only interested in eating the face, suggesting that it gains nothing but psychological satisfaction from the act.

As a closing note, there are legends of Malignancies being instantly vanquished by the site of an item that reminds them of a lone happy moment in their life, or proof that they were not as spurned as they believed. Whether these tales hold truth is unconfirmed.

Creature Feature 1: That Which Was Taken Outside

According to common lore, these creatures are the twisted revenants of dead newborns. Only those left to die by exposure in cold climates become the phantasmal beasts - in some places placing a baby in the wilderness is the preferred method of infanticide, an attempt to somehow defer guilt upon Nature itself.

Regardless of origin, Those Which Were Taken Outside are a very real phenomenon when traversing the wintry woods. Haunting the few scenes of their short lives, those on the ethereal plane can see them clearly as a naked and frostbitten child, sitting on the cold ground and staring. On that plane they are at their weakest; they use it only to hide and sneak. They can enter our own plane at will, in the form of an over-sized, child-like thing with a massive, softened head and cord-like, withered limbs.

IN COMBAT
Those Which Were Taken Outside attack by manifesting in physical form directly before their chosen victim, usually the party member that reminds them most of the parent that abandoned them. A manifestation is preceded for a round by the sound of a baby crying, giving anyone familiar with such creatures a chance to avoid being taken off guard. Otherwise, the attack comes as a complete surprise, as the child-thing lurches forward and “embraces” its victim in a death-grip. While some speculate Those Which Were Taken Outside seek only the warmth and love denied them, in truth they leech heat out of all they touch, and those in their arms are doomed if they cannot break free.

To add the the horror, the monster grows larger as it drains warmth and, finally, life. This makes it harder to escape the longer one is trapped, and the beast only moves on to the next victim after dropping the frost-burned, stiffened corpse of the prior. All the while, its gaping mouth never stops emitting the piercing cry of an abandoned babe slowly succumbing to the chill night air.

Announcing: 31 Days, 31 Creature Features!

October is my month, and Halloween my day. I've loved it all my life, for as long as I can remember. As a teen I could never shake the feeling Halloween would one day change my life for the better. As it happens, I married a woman born on Halloween. I proposed in a graveyard in Salem, MA on (the weekend before, close enough!) Halloween, and we married a year later on... you guessed it... Halloween.

I am hardcore about Halloween.

Thus it felt fitting to celebrate the month that justifies the existence of every other month with all of you. The best way I can think to do that is gifts, 31 of them, handed out one at a time.

Each day from 10/1 to 10/31 I will post a completely original beast, monster, undead horror, uncouth abomination or particularly unpleasant person. I will try and post some kind of original art with them, but no promises. I also can't promise stats - I'll try to give D&D 3e stats, at least, but as that's the most time consuming part I may skip it. Hey, I'm giving you 31 ideas for monsters here! It's kind of a big commitment! Besides, make up your own stats and you can use them in Call of Cthulhu, GURPS or whatever you wish.

I hope you find Make Believe's menagerie tricky for your players and a treat for all involved. We'll see you tomorrow... meh heh heh...

Brainworm, Large

Idea totally stolen from Steph Cherrywell's delicious comic Intragalactic. No, really, it tastes good - lick your monitor and see.

The Brainworm, Large (Also know as the 'Brainworm - Large,' the 'Brainworm (large)' or the 'Brainworm fingerquotes Large fingerquotes') is a... um, worm that eats brains, absorbing the information contained therein. It then uses the corpse to find more prey... unless the victim was sentient.

The parasite survives by gripping onto the skull of its victim via four strong mandibles, gnawing into the brain cavity and devouring the contents. The worm then "plugs into" the sensory organs, takes control of the muscle system and receives sustenance through the victims' usual methods. It can live this way indefinitely, preserving the corpse it's riding in an (almost) perfect state. However, the worm can't progress in its growth cycle this way, and usually uses the host to reach a fresh meal of brains.

However, when a brainworm mistakenly latches on to a fully sentient lifeform, something odd occurs. While the victim still dies, the memories and emotions absorbed by the brainworm form a dominant personality. The worm both recalls being a brainworm, and being the victim. In this state, the parasite effectively becomes a new incarnation of the dead host and will simply try and live the life it technically ended. Often with a massive guilt-complex.

For crunchiness (rules, for you non-DnD blog readers), most mental stats of a brainworm-bitten PC or NPC remain the same. The primary difference is that the actual life form is the large grub-like worm-thing stick out of their head, and only damage to it can kill the character. The corpse can suffer damage, and at 0 - CON hitpoints the worm will be forced to detach from its ruined host. Otherwise the corpse can go indefinitely. No critical hits or sneak attack bonuses. The only drawback is that the body cannot heal naturally, and potions of healing (as with any other potion or poison) only affect the worm. Healing spells work normally.

If someone aims for the worm, use the worm's AC to determine if they hit it. If attacking the worm specifically, sneak-attack damage, critical hits DO apply.

If someone attacks the character without aiming for the worm (most figure it's a hat), natural 20s are assumed to hit the worm, but still without bonus damage. Things that hit everything in an area, like fireballs, hit the worm.

So, here's what happens when your PC's brain gets eaten. Drop your Charisma 1d4 for the giant bug and the fact you look like death. Raise your Intelligence and Wisdom each a point for the addition of the brainworm's past meals (which would have all been non-sentient things, remember?). Raise your Constitution 1d4 for being dead meat. Lower your Dexterity a point for mild joint stiffness and counterbalancing the big thing sticking out of your head.

And without further adieu, the Brainworm:


Attached Brainworm, Large
Abberation, Tiny (although quite Large for a worm)
HP: 6
AC: The host's, minus armor, plus 5 (+2 size, +3 natural armor)
Saves: Fort + 1, the other two are the same as the host's
Abilities: Str 18, Dex Host's -1, Con 13, Int Host's +1, Wis Host's +1, Cha Host's -1

Unattached Brainworm, Large
HP: 6
Initiative: +0
Speed: 10 ft
AC: 15 (+2 size, +3 natural armor)
Saves: Fort +1, Reflex +0, Will +1
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 2, Wis 11, Cha 3
Attacks: Leap and Grab with Mandibles +5
Special: After a successful grab, the worm can automatically bite for 1d10 damage each round until dislodged. On a natural 20 it's grabbed the opponent's head, it may spend a turn to maneuver to the back instead of biting. On the next round, it instantly opens the skull and devours the brain, killing the victim. On the subsequent round it may take over the corpse.

"Twas a Dire whatzit... opossum."

Let me go on record as saying I think "Dire" things are stupid. I suspect the idea comes from the Dire Wolf, a prehistoric canine and the largest on record. Fine. Giant wolf. Here's the thing there: Worgs are cooler, and once you've introduced Worgs, Dire Wolves are just confusing.

Dire Bears... okay, a giant bear. Why can't we call them giant bears again? Does that not sound metal enough? You know "bear" and "wolf" are actually the results of "taboo deformation" - that is, in several languages they were called one thing, but people so feared them they stopped using their "real name" for fear just saying it would attract their attention. Thus they called them things like "the brown one," until eventually that taboo reference replaced the actual name.

STORY TIME: The Goblin Queen

The following is an EXCERPT from Who's Who in the Realms Outside the Windowpane, which is itself a distillation of the unfinished work A Complete Listing and Description Of the Courtesans Most Strange In Both Their Beauty and Fearsomeness, That Humanity and Friends to Her May Better Avoid Any Trespass Against the Former, With The Intent to Educate and By No Means Offend by the human scholar Horciel Pentrefibber in the year (covers hand with mouth and coughs) oh two.

The Goblin That Fucked My Computer

I was going to write a whole thing about goblins and an introduction to the Strange Court. I wanted to doodle a quick sketch of my metal image of "goblins" to go with it.

Then my computer froze in the middle of it, I hadn't saved, and all I could do was take a goddamn photo of my monitor.

Not in much of a mood to write now. All I really wanted to say was I like goblins to be very small and almost child-like until you realize they want to kill and eat you, and maybe not in that order.

Basically I want to bring back a little pre-Tolkien to fantasy. Hence goblins, fairies, brownies, changelings and the like are all sort of on the same team - goblins are just the more corporeal variant.

How's it hanging, bone daddy?

The elf awakes, expecting to see warm sunlight trickling into her family's home, high in the trees. Instead, she sees smoke and ash clouds. Averting her eyes from the corpses in her parent's cots, she looks out to see no forest, but instead a waste full of smoking rubble - great chunks of masonry like that in the human city to the east. Withered man-sized carcasses pepper the gray powdered spoil. The air is silent and still... and then, something creaks like an old door hinge. Again. Then, again... out of the smoke lumber gaunt pallid shapes, like elves or men but not quite.

Kitty has played DnD for the first time... but that warrants its own post. I wanna talk real quick about skeletons.