Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Cinolth Citadel, manning some more Dyson Logos real estate

From Dyson:

The citadel sits on a chunk of generally unprofitable land surrounded by poor farming land, making it unappealing for most nobles. It generally sits quiet and cold, manned by a small garrison at most, a skeleton staff of four to six men and a single priest out of favour with the church at worst.

Baron Nichol Ondrae never cared for the family's scheming and machinations to overthrow the last dynasty, and after the last attempt on his life, possibly from Duke Augh-enryn, or perhaps his own cousin Enoch, it was time to put some space between himself and the fractious infighting of the capital.

So when the Black Pox created a opening for custodian of the Citadel, Nichol took it as a sign.  The gambles of remaining too close to the capital (and family) have become too rich for his blood.  Time to take in a new view.  With a few loyal retainers, and what second-rate soldiers were begrudgingly offered for the post, Nichol took his family and moved west to the isolated outpost.

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Itzultzaile* Spider

Left or found at certain places of ancient rendezvous and crossroads, this bio-mechanical creature, although extremely off-putting, is a critical catalyst for allowing communication.

The spider, although intelligent, doesn't speak, itself. Instead, its venom acts as an agent of translation, allowing individuals to understand the spoken work of a counterpart.  Anyone bitten by the spider will understand and speak any other verbal language for 1d4 days.

The spider must bite an individual wishing to gain the benefit, crawling on their back and biting the individual's spine.  "Failing" a save vs poison (at -2) causes the venom to go into effect, a "successful" save merely renders the victim unconscious for 1d4 turns.

The spider's venom can't be milked for later use, or for utilizing an alternative, less-ghaslty method of injection.  Once the venom has been removed from the spider's body, it is no longer viable.  l

The spiders are rather long-lived, as necessary for a watcher or ward at a crossroads or meeting-place.

4HD, AC6, Move 3"/30" (ground or web), atk: 1d4+translation poison, Special: Intelligent (equiv to Int=10)

* -  'translator' in Basque, because messing around in Google Translate is fun.

Monday, March 7, 2016

Spider Jellies vs Jelly Spiders

Two squishy critters to lurk and crawl in your subterranean habitat of choice (Statted per S&W, easily convertible):


HD: 6, AC: 7, Move: 6, Save: 9, AL: N, CL/XP: 8/800, Attack and Specials, see below:

These gray-green "limbed" ambulatory jellies creep across walls and ceilings by pseudopods, moving quickly for their ilk. The jellies leave a network of filaments in their wake, hence their name.  The filaments are tough and may be used by dungeon denizens as sutures, tripwires, and small snares.

They attack by pseudopod bash (2d6 dmg), plus incorporating a painful sting (-2 all rolls for 1d4 turns) from filaments embedded in the target.

After a successful hit, a victim will be stuck to the jelly by its filaments and partially entangled (a filament may be broken by rolling a successful to-hit vs AC2). Additionally, the jelly secretes a digestive enzyme, dissolving cloth, leather, and wood after one round.

Although immune to normal fire and flame attacks, the jellies are susceptible to magical attacks, which cause double damage.


HD: 1-1, AC: 8, Move: 3, Save: 18, AL: N, CL/XP: 1/15, Attack and Specials, see below:

These brightly-colored, bloated arachnids, are generally slow and torpid, and prey from funnel-webs. Smallish (1-1.5 feet in diameter), they occur in groups of 1d4+2.

The spiders may bite (2d4 damage, save at +2 halves) or spit a sticky globule (save or be stuck as web spell). Their soft exoskeletons and organs can deform from physical attacks, decreasing damage (Blunt: 1/2 damage, edged: -1 damage).

Thursday, March 3, 2016

Trap, Shower of Gold

Murder-hobos, scavengers, and looters are drawn to the lure of unguarded gold. And the mythical image of being rained with gold and treasure may be too much to resist....

The trap is baited with runes along passages or elsewhere declaring that anyone entering a particular room will be showered with gold.  Those blinded by greed will not realize it is a warning, a literal mis-translation.

The trap is a typical, empty, 10x10 room. Gold flecks and spatters may be observed scattered on the floor.

Anyone looking up will notice a grid of small holes covering the ceiling.  The floor is rigged to be pressure-sensitive, requiring at least 400 lbs to trigger the trap as trespassers enter the room to scavenge the  "gold" detritus.

After two minutes, a warm whoosh will emanate from the ceiling, followed by rain of molten "gold" - an alloy-tinted lead melted by alchemical means.

Those caught in the molten rain will receive 2d6 burn damage, distributed between all those in the room (characters wearing metal armor and/or helms reduce damage 1 point), with 1d6 damage the 2nd round (minimum of 1 point damage per character). Additionally, removing the solidified metal that has embedded itself will cause 1d2 additional damage.