Creature Feature 19: Childcatcher Costumes

Another contribution from Steph Cherrywell, I'll let her do the talking:

Art by Steph Cherrywell

A construct creature, based on the idea of trick-or-treating, if there is a festival similar to Halloween in the campaign world.  These creatures pretend to be inanimate but very scary-looking costumes and wait until a child puts them on - then they take possession of the child's body and force them to acquire candy by any means possible  (first begging, then scaring, and finally attacking people if it's allowed to run free long enough.)  The  costume stores some of the energy and uses it to gain more power and control the longer it's worn.  These costumes were created by a hag and set loose as a way of fattening up the local children for eventual eating, without having to go to the trouble of doing it herself (or the expense of building a gingerbread house).

Really, any holiday in your campaign world that involves a) people in costume and b) food can have Childcatchers. I can see a similar version for adults.

Unrelated: When we do Halloween, we do Halloween.

The daring steamship bandit Topper Lee, who never met a bank vault he couldn't blow big holes through.

Wanted across all seven skies, Evil-Eye Estrella has left a trail of death, destruction and flustered young ladies.

Left to right: Kitty's six-round mini-singularity instigator, this one's a Quantum-Industrial Labs "Imploder X-9Z." Only a handful of prototypes of the "Imp" were produced - the likelihood of adverse litigation made QUIL reconsider mass-marketing a purse-sized handgun that creates black holes inside people's torsos.

Chris's gun, also sporting a six-round chamber, is a Hydrogen-Carbon Fusion Cell Protocaster, a custom magnum version standard issue to the Priests of the Order of World Commerce. Rumors persist that Lee modified his to fire other ammo, probably due to the high rates of radiation poisoning among OWC's priesthood.

The problem with the Age of Steam was all the coal dust in the air. The problem with the Atomic Age of Steam is that the coal dust can mutate your lungs into a separate organism with its own motives that might clash with your own. Best to wear a mask when outside quantum-filtered air conditioning.

The Hour Grows Late

The most recent Creature Feature was #18. Today is the 26th. Obviously, I've very behind if I'm to have 31 on Halloween.

I have one more from Steph Cherrywell to post, so there's 19. And I know who #31 is, as the finale was the first one I thought up (Steph illustrated it weeks ago). That means I need to come up with 11 more in 6 days, roughly two a day.

I'm also trying to catch up on the work I'm paid to do. All this is to say, I may not make it. Regardless, you can expect a few more before the big finale on Halloween. I'll repeat this Sunday, but I want to thank everyone that's commented and encouraged me to slog through this little experiment in spontaneous creativity. I hope at least something I've spewed out finds life in another's campaign!

Creature Feature 18: The Gelatinous Sphere

"Oh bullshit!" you say. "A Gelatinous Sphere? You're going to give us a reworking of the Gelatinous Cube where you just picked another Platonic solid?"

"Well, this one could roll," I reply coolly.

"So?"

"Well, how the hell does the Cube move? I mean, if it's on a downward incline it might kinda... slide.. like lard on a skillet. But uphill?"

"Yeah. That's part of why it's lame. Making it faster still makes it lame, though."

"Okay, calm down, I was just jerking you around. The Gelatinous Sphere has nothing to do with the Cube. People call it that because that's what it looks like - a big, floating ball of clear gel, with something vaguely nerve-like in the center. Also, they don't know what else to call it.

Among the oddest entities recorded, very little is know about the Sphere's intelligence, motives, biology or even if there are more than one in existence. One always seems to be present somewhere, though, hovering over the landscape, occasionally pausing to make something that crossed its path spontaneously erupt in flames. Really, it's assumed the Sphere is responsible, since there's no visible action on its part aside from the brief stop in its slow and steady movement. Why it does this is anyone's guess and everyone's woe.

Of course, attempts have been made to slay it, or force it to turn when it nears a settled area. These usually end in disaster. On three recorded occasions after the first volley of arrows, or spells, or ballista bolts struck near the Sphere, a cloud giant's severed, bloody head plummeted out of the blue sky and onto several key members of the chain of command, even though at least once they were in a tent miles away. On two occasions, a thick rain of large, live frogs fell on the soldier's lines, ruining moral and impeding movement. After one of these incidents the Sphere did then turn to the left and away from the village the soldiers wanted to protect, but a month later the entire population died from illness due to the massive amount of dead amphibians littering the streets and wells.

A similar tragedy occurred when the Sphere approached a great desert palace. Unconcerned, the Queen ordered a giant iron box to be built directly in front of the Sphere's path, with two sides left open to allow it to pass through. Sure enough, it entered the box and then, with chains and horses, the sides were lifted and hammered closed by several dozen metalworkers. The Sphere was trapped. The Queen the ordered the Box to be guarded 24/7, and that any living thing approaching it be immediately slain without question.

An hour later, the fish began to fall. First it was small fish. Then larger ones. Occasionally a tuna, or dolphin, or moderately large shark plummeted down on the palace grounds and burst across the golden tiles, lush tapestries and tan flesh of the terrified Court. For days no one could venture out from under shelter less they be slain by falling sea life. The carrion piled higher and higher until structures failed and crumbled. Men and women were crushed beneath roofs, or drowned in rotting fish innards, or struck dead by the stench. The Throne Room was the last place to withstand the onslaught, and the Queen finally got word out by eagle to free the Sphere, hoping it would end this horror once released. The great box was opened... but the Sphere wasn't there. The fish fell until the Queen could tolerate the smell no longer and drown herself in her bath trying to escape it. She was the last living soul in the Palace, and the rain of fish stopped as did her heart.

Scholars, looking back, noted that one hundred miles away, the population of a fishing village starved after every fish in their waters shot straight up into the sky. And on the same day the box was closed, the Sphere was seen incinerating a halfling bard that tried to sing it to sleep in the next kingdom.

Danger aside, these stories do demonstrate that the Sphere can be detered. The cost of doing so is often steep, however.

There, is that better?"

"No."

Creature Features 16 & 17: Jack-in-the-Pulpits and Witch-Traps

Catching up!

Jack-in-the-Pulpits are an unusually large and complex plant. They consist of a network of thick root-like structures only slightly beneath the soil, radiating out over a 45 degree cone from a tall structure resembling a cleric's pulpit. At this pulpit, the torso, arms and head of an elven man grow, in green leafy vestments. With animated zeal, this false figure proselytizes on the nature of good and evil, the wickedness of false beliefs and modern innovation, and the need to repent violence and destruction and return to a natural way of life. He especially excoriates the armed and armored, beseeching them to put down their implements of war and receive Nature's blessing.

When a sufficient crowd has gathered, the root system secretes a sticky sap up through the soil. If it isn't noticed in time, it is impossible for most humanoids to pull themselves free. Even then, those closest to the Pulpit have a lot of sap-soaked ground to cross, and every bit of it is as sticky as the last. "Jack" falls silent and still at this point. Victims eventually collapse from exhaustion, down into the mire. There they eventually die of dehydration or hunger, and attract animals that also get stuck. The Jack-in-the-Pulpit absorbs their nutrients through the root structure - with captures carrion-eaters included, one small crowd is enough to get a Jack-in-the-Pulpit through it's life cycle. Over the course of a few months the pulpit will fold up over "Jack," dry out and finally burst into a cloud of large seeds that float unnaturally.

Another form of murderous vegetation is the Witch-Trap, which grows exclusively in swamps and other murky locations. Far less animate than the Jack-in-the-Pulpit, assassin vines or other predatory plants, the Witch-Trap substitutes patience and specialization which allows it to expend less energy and therefore eat less.

A living Witch-Trap clump is invisible. It's known from dead samples that they consist of several large pairs of thick, magic-resistant leaves in a jaws-like configuration. These leaves hang open and tipped against to the ground to allow prey to wander between them. Just entering the leaves does nothing - in fact you can walk in and back out safely. But cast any kind of spell - say, in an attempt to see what invisible wall you just bumped into - and the leaves clamp shut and seal tight as the stalk stiffens and lifts you off the ground. The leaves then ooze a toxic sludge that drains life from the spellcaster inside (gives negative levels, in terms of rules) while dissolving flesh and bone as well. In this way, the plant both feeds and recharges its ability to remain invisible and impervious to magic. Should it ever fail to feed for too long (decades), or waste energy on a magic-less meal (a rogue that activated a magic device while in it, for instance), it will become visible. Thus exposed, it is doomed to starvation.

Many a tragic and gruesome report exist from the soul survivors of traveling cohorts of wizards. They tell of watching helplessly as their companions were lifted into the air by an invisible force, held aloft and slowly dissolved before their eyes. Worst of all was that their mighty magic could not save them - indeed they only escaped with their life because they became too terrified to attempt a spell themselves. The best schools of magic make their students study these reports, to demonstrate that sometimes even the greatest incantation is less useful that a simple sharp dagger.

Creature Feature 15: Fused Fey

"Well, I haven't said anything to anyone but... well, that morning I had the bread loaves all set out to rise before I stuck 'um in the oven when Carnlee stopped by. Well, when I came back to 'em, one had risen a little higher than the others, but eh, I figured the yeast was old. Into the oven they went. Well of course the biggest loaf was the first to sell... but do you know it was to Mrs. Cornsdale? Poor dears... and to think they had just finished dinner when the fire started."

"Oh, I'll sell it to you cheap! It's special, you know. Magic, I think, though the blacksmith said nothing of it. It just... had that feel to it, like it was different than all the other blades... anyway, it always struck true for me. Why of course I'm serious! Well I know that's awfully little to ask for a fine weapon like this but... look, I need the coin, okay? You're right, it isn't any of your business what happened to my damn arm, you want the sword or not?"

"But I swear I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't even want to sell the Duchess that straight-razor, but she saw it whilst touring the studio and insisted! I told you, I didn't make it! The silver razor I cast was unadorned... someone must have stolen it and replaced it with the cursed one, knowing the Duchess would see it. Everyone knows she's fond of artwork portraying the Kind Neighbors, so making the handle into a likeness of a Faerie child was a perfect plot... no, it was not my plot! That wasn't a confession..."

Any crafts-person working with great heat or fire should take heed: It's unwise to leave your materials unattended for long. The Fey are a curious folk, but not half so much as they are vengeful.

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.

Ghostbusters RPG Part 1: I tear up a little when everyone is cheering Lady Liberty

I'm a big fan of Ghostbusters. How big? I think the second movie is just as good as the first, and am offended anyone would think otherwise. That big.

Naturally, I loved the Ghostbusters video game that came out in 2009 - it was an absolute dragon's hoard of fan service. It expanded on all the little details of the films, the pseudo-science behind them and their uniquely humorous occult mythos (you get to fight a fuckin' sloar! Nobody roasted in it's belly that day I can tell you!). The slavish revisiting of every location from the first film did get a little tiring, but it was forgivable when they got away from it in the later half of the game. I do have some issues with the story (did we really need a new young love interest for Venkmen to sexually harass into submission?), but otherwise it was perfect.

Almost.

You see, at the end of the game there's a voiceover where your character (a nameless rookie) is sent to open their own franchise in another city. Now, back in the 8- and 16-bit days there were several shitty GB games, and a reoccurring theme was having to buy equipment and pick a model of car for the ECTO. Those games sucked, but the idea of building a custom Ghostbusters team stuck with me. What if you got to play that franchise - getting a building and vehicle, hiring a team? And all those things had pluses and minuses.

And what if, instead of a linear plot (the new game was a typical "hit all these stops on the way to save the world" structure), you answered calls from a variety of locations? A family thinks they have a poltergeist, a restaurant's staff is being driven off by black shapes... and of course you get paid when you succeed. Talking to my wife, I realized what I wanted was a Ghostbusters RPG.

Then I thought about the 80s. There was a pen-and-paper RPG for everything in the 80s. Licensed properties were hot - Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles, Star Wars, Marvel and DC comics, the list goes on. This continued into the 90s, actually - Men in Black jumps to mind. So what were the chances there was a Ghostbusters RPG?

100%.

And it is absolutely awesome.


LATER: Details on the Ghostbusters RPG, the revised rules known as Ghostbusters International, how to get a hold of them and why you want to.

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 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.

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...