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.

The Carrow Campaign: Play Report 1

"David, kill the Queen!"

 I promised play reports, and here's the first. But I didn't want to take the usual route and tell you how the game went myself - after all, most RPG bloggers are GMs. You've had that point of view. Instead, I've asked my players to write the reports, which I'll then add my own commentary to. That way we get a complete picture, which seems much more instructive, and a hell of a lot more entertaining.


Without further adieu, here's Steph Cherrywell's report from her first session - which also happened to be my first session in a long time:

"Here is the journal of Spucky Conkerbucket, gnomish druid. Dungeons and Dragons has been a very different and rewarding experience for me so far. I play World of Warcraft on an RP server, and while I enjoy it a lot , the fact is that the "roleplaying" element and the "gameplay" element are entirely divorced from each other. You can make up any story you want, but your character is never in danger of (really) dying or being arrested unless you decided that's what you want happening in your storyline. And you can go through a dungeon with friends 'in-character', but at the end you have just one choice -- "kill the boss". You can't arrest him and drag him back to the city in chains, or infiltrate the pirate crew and then steal his ship, or decide you agree with him and throw in your lot with his gang, or anything else, gameplay-wise. So it's very exciting to get to try this out!

Spucky, level 1, is walking along with her animal companion, Chops the riding St. Bernard, when she hears the sounds of an argument. It's two monks - Sputnam and Ham - who are arguing about the location of a third, Toby, who went off in the woods to use the bathroom and hasn't returned. Spucky, being a Neutral Good meddling do-gooder sort, offers to help find him, and off we go in the woods. Lucky, Spucky's first feat is Track, and soon we found ourselves at the base of a fallen tree. No sooner did Spucky get up close to look at it than a giant spider popped out and bit her with a surprise attack! Luckily, she didn't get poisoned. Since this was the first session and I didn't know what I was doing, I hadn't chosen any spells beforehand, figuring I'd just decide on what to have when I needed it - just a wee bit against the rules, there! For future sessions I would decide on a 'default' list of spells which would be the ones Spucky had prepared at the start of the adventure unless I said otherwise. I also didn't even consider the possibility of trying to use Charm Animal until Chops had already given the spider a good return bite, and of course, it wouldn't have worked anyway because spiders are Vermin rather than animals. So two ignorants made a right, there! There was an intense combat with Chops biting, Spucky swinging with her quarterstaff, and the two monks doing rushing punch attacks. One of the monks was knocked down and took damage, and Spucky used her sole first-level spell (another little error -- I was supposed to have an extra one due to Wisdom bonus!) to Cure Light Wounds. Yay, my first heal!


[And a major one - he was actually dying. Being behind the wheel of the spider, I almost felt bad for her - it was like that scene at the end of Shaun of the Dead where they are all standing around in a circle screaming and beating on the zombie while Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now" blares from the juke box.]

Eventually the spider is defeated without too much trouble, and Spucky and the older monk descended into the hole to look for Toby. I got a little nervous on Spucky's behalf because Chops couldn't come down with her, not being very good at rope-climbing, and at Level 1 most of her attack potential came from his mighty bite and not from the little junior-sized attack staff wielded by a 40-pound spellcaster. The logistics of dog-down-the-rope would come up in the next adventure too -- but he's still a good animal companion to have because he can easily carry a lot more than Spucky herself can. [Chops is like our mascot now. When his turn comes everyone is like "Go Chops!"]

Inside the hole were lots o' webs, some of them with mysterious lumps. We decided to cut loose the most promising lump and see if it was Toby, but in the middle of cutting, scuttling sounds were heard from the darkened part of the room. It turned out there was another spider in the nest! I started to be very paranoid about having Spucky take on an enemy with just one other person and no dog, so we got the bundle out as quickly as possible. However, the spider (which could talk) was actually happy that the other spider was dead. Turns out she was going to mate with and then kill him. I was still a little antsy, probably more than was strictly in-character -- something I need to work on. I am still expecting to do something wrong and get a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure style YOU HAVE DIED. I probably will at some point, too, but I bought the Manual of the Planes, so there are lots of nice afterlives Spucky could pick from.

[Steph doesn't give herself enough credit. I had no idea how worried she was about her character getting killed. This was a fun little reversal for me, where there was a massive amount of tension while they knew the spider was there watching them try to get out as fast as they could, all for it to turn out it was as frightened as they were. This was a way to show that immediately attacking everything isn't always the best solution. Oh, between the talking male and the venom-less female I sort of invented a new species of giant spider.]

There seemed to be other things going on in the spider pit, but I didn't want to explore it alone [there were, but they aren't going anywhere], so Spucky went up the rope as quickly as possible and we cut open the web-lump. Toby was inside, and using Detect Poison I was able to determine that he was paralyzed but apparently not dying [I said the female was venom-less. The male still has a role in preparing the nest, like it or not]. We still thought it was a good idea to get him to a healer as quickly as possible, though, and I wasn't going to cut it! The recently-widowered smaller spider ran up out of the pit and scurried off, while we took Toby back to the cart and set off in search of someone who could cure him! Also, I would find out later that the spider's poison glands were apparently worth something. Oops. This may be why I still have barely any money, even a couple sessions later! [No, you don't have any money because I'm a jerk and make barrows full of gold collapse on you. More on that in a later report] I need to learn who has expensive things growing in them, and how to get at the goodies. You can see that I still have quite a bit to pick up, but it's all been very fun so far!

Next time, Spucky meets Agartha the barbarian, and an expedition to the Farm of Doom!"

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.

Unrelated: I think I may hate Google Instant

Started typing something that began with "How to become an" and this is how Google thinks people usually finish that sentence.

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.