Secret Santicorn 2025, Part III: Pathetic Dragons

And now my last(?) gift to shove under the OSR Discord Secret Santicorn tree:

Sylvanas_iii - A dX table of medieval dragons that look nothing like any self-respecting dragon should (e.g. the original French tarrasque)

First of all, before diving into this assignment, I must ask, who gave St. George all the good press for killing such a puny dragon? I mean, this thing looks like it could barely accost a self-respecting princess. Not to mention an armed and armored knight. This creature looks like a hatchling. Clearly, the dragon was the victim here.

IT'S JUST A BABY!

Obviously, the tale grew in the telling. 

Anyway, let's go find some weirdos.

1. Ah yes, the Septacranial Fluharmonizer. A beast notable not for its breath weapon, but its melodious vocalizations. "Septs" are often curated as local attractions, fed on a fine selection of lamb and lemon balm to coax their performances for the local economy. The six prima heads harmonize, as the posterihead maintains a rhythmic drone. Their songs are described as like "living pipe organs" by aficionados and as "feral bagpipes" by their detractors.

Create

Came across this presentation while on my dog walk the other day:

Strong thesis statement. But valid. Creative expression is a critical part of the human experience. Dancing around the fire, painting cathedral ceilings, writing symphonies or novels. Or gathering to roll dice and be in our imaginations.

Regarding one beat within the talk - my real-life job does have its saving-the-world elements. And I do believe that I can continue writing up my little scenarios or lists or whatevers that catch my fancy while still enacting some change and improvement. Besides, having worlds that we have a little control over diminishes the ennui of not being able to "save the world" enough. 

I've always believed that my own creative life was important in one form or another, whether trying my hand at fiction writing, an occasional return to the piano, or making up stuff for silly elf-games. It's part of my general plan to keep my mind and body flexible and functional as long as possible. 

On top of that, I finally confirmed that yes, after 50+ years dithering around, that I do have ADHD. I either very successfully passed or gloriously failed the QbCheck ADHD test, depending on one's perspective. 

So I'd better figure some stuff out here. 

I don't consider myself a particularly strong or creative writer, but at least I can keep a consistent format and catch most of my typos. And as the presenter says, don't let self confidence or the need to be "good" at something hamper us from creating. Anyone who's read my stuff certainly knows it doesn't stop me...

So - Onward. In a frail attempt to organize my home office, I've captured most of my scribbled works-in-progress:

with ADHD-proofing soundtrack

Some of these scenarios are products of the campaign, some are maps that caught my attention, a few are from prompts or particular writing exercises.

There's a good handful. Let's shoot for getting one drafted per week. Think I can do that? 

Anyway, get out there and make your own scribbles. You don't have to save the world. But you can bring a bit of fun and light into your own corner of it.

The Lair of the Pale Toads

Last week, we were introduced to the Pale Toads. To expand on our new friends, they needed a lair, and a bit of a story as to why they have suddenly appeared along the edge of civilization, curious and adventuresome. 

AI Trigger Warning.

The Toads tire of lingering in their dim places, and, curious about those who explore their lands, seek to reach out and make contact. But in that vein, they need a leader to inspire them, and teachers to prepare them to interact with the outlanders.

Fortunately, our little community within the lair has both, and the Toads are ready to seek new lands and new allies. The old Queen seeks a greater calling and legacy for her folk. The priests commune with and teach of the great toad who brought them up. And instructors teach worthy toads the arts they will need to survive in the greater world and the rough language of the foreigners so that they may communicate.

This "adventure" is written more as a settlement or village, with its personalities and resources, than a "lair" to be murderhoboed. YMMV. 

The map was provided by Jean-Claude ''Raznag'' Tremblay. I've used one of his maps before, and have several more in the files awaiting the correct inspiration.

Anyway, welcome to the Lair of the Pale Toads. Try the swamp-beer.

Update: Got called out for the AI art, so I'll address it here, rather than getting into multiple discussions elsewhere. Yes, the Toad images are AI. I happened to find them whimsical and inspiring enough as prompts to write up a couple of posts worth of content. Because I write for fun, after all. This isn't a commercial or professional endeavor. I don't have delusions of adequacy when it comes to my writing. I just put it out there to keep my brain active, and perhaps someone will use a piece of mine at their table one day. And much of what I write here (eleven years of posts, 100+ adventures or scenarios, plus myriad other content) is found inspiration: A good map-space, a piece of history, a photo of an artefact, a scene in a book. But the writing is mine. 

Ironically, I didn't even "create" the Toads' art, but lifted it from Pale Toad's YouTube posts.  

Will I use AI art in the future? Likely not. It doesn't fit the esthetic of my writing and imagined game-space. And AI is considered anathema in plenty of creative spaces. Anyway, I'd rather hunt down an appropriate bit of Hannes Bok or piece of medieval marginalia to illustrate my little adventures or scenarios. The images I use on my posts are attributed to their sources, and anything that I do put up on DTRPG or similar is typically illustrated by either public domain art or purchased art from human creators. 

So, if for some reason this is the first time you've stumbled on my blog, I apologize if AI is your first impression. Feel free to peruse the nearly 650 posts that aren't AI content.

Secret Santicorn 2024: Another Horror

Once again, from the depths of the OSR Discord craws the Santicorn, leaving the gifts of writing prompts to the good(?) denizens of the server.

You got shutteredroom’s prompt, “The Real Monster of which the Shitting Log of Catalonia is the sanity-protecting bowdlerization.”

First, a quick visit to Webster's to check something....

bowdlerization:
noun
The deletion of all passages considered to be indecent.
Similar: bowdlerisation, expurgation
The action or instance of bowdlerizing; the omission or removal of material considered vulgar or indecent.
The act of deleting or modifying all passages considered to be indecent. 

OK, gotcha. That's what I thought...

***

The portal from the Void opened, and the Entity entered the world. Fools twisted by promises of power and ancient knowledges from before the time that Men walked the land had called it, at a great cost of life and sanity. For, they knew, great power comes at great cost. Particularly if it is others that are paying with their lives. So they had spread war and desolation in their pursuit of this favor.

And desolation they received in turn. For the Entity had no interest in wisdom or power. Just madness and destruction. And piddling little evolved apes were not of consequence. XXX walked the land, its energies from outside of space burning a halo of destruction where it went.

source

However, some of these apes had slivers of power. Whether by craft, or energies arcane or divine. So they fought XXX, desperately and to little effect. After all, fighting a being whose name itself caused fear and madness was a nigh-impossible task. Only the Sightless, paladins blinded of all vision except that which saw auras of evil, were able to stand long before its predations.

They called upon their god, YYY, to aid them against this desolation in living form.

Gods and Such: a collection of deities

When I've written up a village or adventure space, I'll often add a local deity for color and to add to the  depth of the setting. The deity that the community worships lends an indication to their values and the atmosphere of the place (and how friendly they may be to a bunch of unwashed adventurers). The gods include Lawful, Neutral, and Chaotic representatives, to round out the alignments and followers.

For inspiration, I cribbed illustrations from a number of classic pulp and art deco illustrators, including Harry Clarke, Sidney Sime, and Hannes Bok. I've accumulated a long list of artists and art resources for writing inspiration and illustration over the last few years, and it's always fun to find a piece that fits my need from some unexpected source. 

A few of the gods, including Khador, Medeg, Garond, and Combris have shown up in my campaign, with their followers making their own stories and impact. Others have been mentioned or wait in the wings.

Behold, Twelve! gods of various stripes to use in your campaign, or for your own inspiration. Enjoy.

Edit: Added one more, because every pantheon needs a God of Death.

Late Delivery: Secret Santicorn 2023

 Christmas gifts that keep on giving? 

For the OSR secret santicorn, you've been paired with wyattwashere, who wants “A list of modern/urban creatures for use in horror-investigation games like Call of Cthulhu or Delta Green. The weirder and more niche the better!”

Been on this one for a bit. 

I read through my Delta Green quickstart, and thumbed through my CoC. Through it all, the Hounds of Tindalos kept popping up in my imagination.

Good puppy (source)

So why not start from there?

<writing ensues>  

For inspiration, downloaded a glut of images from artist 0nedes, who heavily inspired a prior writing exercise, also with a dark horror/post-apocalypse vibe. 

I mean look at this cutie: 

Who could deny a darling creature like that? "Honey, it wants in!"

Additional inspiration via Dan Davis History, with a bit of Crecganford and Esoterica. Soundtrack by Cryo Chamber and other Dark Ambient channels.

So I'm not sure that I met the criteria for modern/urban, just for the fact that I created a mini-Mythos dating back to Neanderthal times and heavily influenced by Stone to early Bronze Age Indo-European cultures and myths. I mean, why use the published material when you can start from scratch? That said, I rounded up several modern references and occurrences that dovetail in with a potential 'reawakening' of beings/creatures, as well as some descriptions of the misguided or corrupted souls who may want to interact with it.

They Called Them Wolves (link permissions fixed)

Thanks also to Archon's Court for shepherding the project through this year.

Monster: Damned Horses

"Yeah, when the riding animals start fighting, we're in new territory" - Frederick

The party heard the sounds of struggle and battle through the trees. Rushing forward, they glimpsed four mounted warriors in a desperate fight against an unequal number of Chaos mutants, some on foot, some mounted. As they watched, one of the warriors was dragged from his horse and slain.

"Are we heroes today?" "I guess so.."

The skulky characters quickly assessed the scene, fading away to target the apparent leaders of the foes, as the elf and a couple of henchmen readied bows and spells to pick off the soldiers...

Slick and Flick made their ways around the melee, getting into position to shank the Chaos knight on his warhorse. Out of the corner of his eye, Slick saw the robed figure struggling with Frederick as he reappeared. Now! Slick leapt, stabbing between the knight's plate, as his companion flanked from the opposite side. Gravely wounded, the knight reeled in his saddle as his warhorse instinctively wheeled to seek the threat.

Slick looked up to see the horse rear with a horrid scream and glaring red eyes. A pair of iron-shod hooves sprouting what appeared to be rooster spurs came down on him, hard, nearly sending him to the Other Side...

... And that is how my party became aware of the Damned Horses. Like many of their Chaos foes, the horses have also been mutated to become "more perfect" in the eyes of the Maker.

.

All Damned Horses by Rigardatta

A Curse of Demons - Some Toren Atkinson Inspiration

After F'Norp's misadventure, I explored a bit more of Toren Atkinson's portfolio, and borrowed these fine individuals for a bit of hellish creativity:

General:
Of the five lovely specimens below, all have demonic resistances to normal weapons, requiring silver or magic to cause damage (in addition to whatever other physical resistances they may have). All take half damage from non-magical fire. 

Soth'tath: The Hound-Headed: 

Appearing to wear the oversized skin of a flayed victim, this multi-limbed "Hound of Draglemol" acts as a servitor-porter and tracker that retrieves the damned, both on the Abyssal planes, and without. Its mole-like nose scents out fugitives from the dark places and unpaid pacts. Two or more are typically dispatched to hunt down their prey.

Running on bird-like feet, or scrabbling along walls and ceilings, the demon moves at the same pace on any surface. Upon catching prey, they are often seen portaging them away, grasped on their backs with their posterior claws.

HD: 4+1; Armor: as Chain; atk 4x claw (1d6 ea), if two or more attacks strike, the target is grappled, taking 1d6 automatic dmg/round until freed.

Monday Monster: The Smolder

Continuing with my attempt to rekindle a bit of spontaneous writing inspiration. Another piece of art found in the forums:

The smell of charred forest lingered as the party crossed the still-warm ground, ashy from the recent conflagration. Flickers of flame and threads of smoke rose from the dying burn. The stacked stones rose from the burned land, blackened and cracked, but whole. The storehouse of the artifacts of Chotarr, The Burning One.

"Looks clear, Custis! Nothing here but a dead charred cat. Thing probably got caught in the forest fire." 

"Odd. The fire's barely burned out. Wonder what started it."

"Probably goblins. Who cares, there's a hammer in there I've been seeking since the Battle Of Burning Plains." 

The two looters stepped on the platform of the crypt. They suddenly felt a wall of heat rising as an acrid burning filled their noses. A crack like a tree exploding in a forest fire sounded and they faced the "dead" panther, now animated and flaming.

by Andrea Radek

The Smolder: 

Feline elemental guardian/constructs, appearing in the form of a massive, charred panther. Created to guard temples and sacred places of the fire gods. Often called as guardian-companions to fire giants and similar primordial beings.

AC: 5/14

HD: 5+1

Atk: Bite/claw/claw 1d8/1d4/1d4 - on a successful hit, save or take an additional 1d8 heat damage

THAC0: 15 [+4]

Movement: 120' (40)

Saving Throws: D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 

Morale: 10

Special Abilities: Magical construct/elemental - Immune to mental magic. Magic required to hit/damage. 

If a smolder has been left to guard a location, there is a 5% chance per year (cumulative), that it will break free of its servitude and become a self-governing predator, prowling the area around its former station. Now treating the area as its territory, it will attack any encountered intruder. The prowling of a smolder will often set fires in its area, leaving its territory and surrounding terrain a charred, blighted locale.

F'Norp's First Flight

Haven't written off a prompt for entirely too long, but this image came across my feed, and I decided this hapless fellow needed a story...

Via Toren Atkinson

F’Norp looked at the rickety contraption bodged together by the goblins. F’Norp always tried to be a good tribe member, but this made his guts twist uncomfortably. The breeze made the unevenly cut and stitched hides and fabric flutter and ripple. His guts burbled and he let loose a nervous fart. The goblins tittered.

“Now, Fnoop, or whatever your name is – just like we talked. This fine contraption will waft you like a leaf on the breeze above the Baron’s camp, and you let fly with my little gifts. They’ll never know what hit ‘em!” The bald, twitchy softskin conjurer waved his bony fingers at the fragile flier. Jorgagu had called him an alkimest or something like that, deemed too crazy for the softskins, so he sold his crafts to Lord Az'gezan and the horde instead. All F’Norp knew was that the little guy was pushy and that his tent smelled of acrid brews. One goblin assistant had lost a hand in a blast, and a second was blinded by some fetid spray. If the conjuror hadn’t been useful and under the protection of Az'gezan, he would have found himself wearing his guts as a hat.

F’Norp looked over the edge of the cliff. The treetops sure looked a long way down. He poked at the flier. A goblin smacked his hand away. A raven cawed.

A cart squeaked as two of the conjuror's surviving goblin assistants gingerly trundled their load up to the launch site.

“All right, Fjord, ready for your day as a hero? Ohh, this is going to be glorious!” The alkimest started to juggle a number of corked vials and bottles filled with viscous fluids. The goblins cringed a bit. “Now hold still, very delicate, you know. Get plenty lashed on and some spares on the craft. Ooo, this will be a show!”

F’Norp was a bit concerned. After all, the vials didn’t appear to be easily untied. Perhaps they’d give him a blade. But there sure were a lot of bottles.

Lord Az'gezan approached. This was the first time that F’Norp had ever been this close to His Putrescence. It was a heady experience. His voice boomed, “Minion, you are The Chosen Bombardier! Great Glory to you! You will Rain Discord in the camp of our enemy, Sowing Much Destruction and a Victory for The Cause!”

Arrayed with the vials and bottles, F’Norp was assisted into the flier. “Now lean in the direction you want to go, and you will be like a great bird of prey, Fneed!” crowed the scrawny alkimest. 

With a push and a heave, F’Norp found himself tossed from the clifftop. The spindly flier spiraled for a moment, caught a thermal, and suddenly climbed.

F’Norp realized that in the intoxicating moment of being addressed by His Putrescence, that he had forgotten to ask about releasing the bottles of reagents. They sure seemed bound securely to the frame of the flier, and to his limbs. Oh, and how to land. That would have been good to ask, too.

As the flier began its unstable descent toward the softskins’ battle camp, F’Norp felt the wind through his unruly mane, and heard its rush past his ears. He was flying! Terror passed to momentary exuberation. That crazy conjurer was right about one thing. It sure was a glorious sight up here.

Writing Prompt: Secret Jackalope 2022

What's in my Discord inbox today?

You've been paired with Rook#1407, who wants "Take a non-intelligent DND monster of your choosing from the 1977 Monster Manual, like a Roper or Bulette (or a couple of real world animals) and 'speculatively evolve' it into a few distinct evolutionary niches. Basically, take that creature and specialize it into a new environment or ecological role for several dozen million years and see what happens to it. It's more biological that putting gills on a Rust-Monster if it evolves into the oceans. Here's a great example; https://sites.google.com/site/worldofserina/home. Points for stats. Ten thousand million points for a couple of sketches of your new creatures. "

(Or perhaps After Man...)

Welcome to Secret Jackalope 2022. Been a couple of years (or maybe I just missed last year's effort)?

Anyway.

Meet the Hegemonic Cube.

Through assimilation of genetic material over generations of scavenging and predating, at some indistinguishable moment, the gelatinous cube reached a tipping point to gain an alien intelligence, after a fashion. 

Source

The body form modified from a cube into a lobed protoplasm that extruded throughout its territory, slowly creeping, branching and creating sensory nodes of massive neurons to "feel" its environment. The evolved "hegemonic cube" became a decentralized intelligence, with each nerve center sharing a portion of the creature's intelligence and memory, a redundant, multiple-parallel network.

Creatures of humanoid intelligences, or those similarly evolved, speak of feeling a 'static' in their minds upon approaching one of these slow-moving minds. Those who attempt to probe the cube's "minds" by mental means are often met with blasts of howling psychic energy that can stun, blind, or even destroy a mind. 

Although light sensitive, the "hegemonic cube" has no true vision, relying instead on the sensory input of chemical means. Likewise a "cube" will communicates with other colonies of its type via chemical means - establishing boundaries, or sharing memories and resources.

Happy Jackalope 2020! A Writing Prompt...

James Young has helped run the Secret Santicore community writing 'gift' project over the last secret years. With the demise of G+, the project was ported over at the OSR Discord Server. And with the current state of the world, James added the Easter equivalent for a bit of creativity and levity - Behold, the Secret Jackalope!

I've played in these projects on and off, so threw my prompt into the list. In return, I received my Secret Jackalope prompt:

Hello Vance!

The Jackalope is here, and requires a SACRIFICE.

SherlockHole requests the following gift:

Weird monsters to stalk through some post-apocalyptic ruins in a world with lovecraftian horrors & GLOG sorcerers, or some plot hooks/ a dungeon for investigations within a walled-off city at the edge of the world

And a prompt needs inspiration. Serendipitously, a piece of 'appropriate' art popped across my DeviantArt recommendations:

https://www.deviantart.com/ondes7

All things considered equal, this fit. And so did the rest of Ondes7's work, a collection of surreal and adequately creepy pen and ink and graphite pieces that fit the imagery of Lovecraftian horrors...

So off to the races with several atmosphere-pieces of creatures that have invaded the world from the Void.

So these monstrosities aren't statted out - more notes, impressions, and perhaps a few strategies that have been found effective to counter them. But hopefully something useful as think-pieces and inspiration for a twisted world.

And I did have to shoehorn some background for the city of Redoubt, and some rumor seeds, as well. Because apparently prompts for last cities is a thing for me...

So, thanks to SherlockHole for the prompt, and thanks to Ondes7 for a batch of inspiration.

Welcome to a City on at the edge of a ruined world, and the things that prowl beyond the walls. 

Wormkin

Glynn drew this. I wrote up some slapdash words...

Original Sketch by Glynn Seal

Hailing from the Boglands of the south, or found creeping about in the temperate rainforests of the Northwet, the secretive wormkin make their way in their silent, mysterious societies...

Annelid-humanoids ranging in height (length?) of four to six feet, with spindly arms, their moist skin ranges from a translucent pale to dark red in color. Other than than light-sensitive organs around their head regions, the wormkin are essentially blind. Compensating for this, the wormkin have finely-attuned 'tremor-sense' for vibrations and an acute sense of smell. Because of their thin skin, wormkin require moist environments and are found in rainforests, humid caverns, and bogs. Some "invasive" wormkin have been encountered in city sewers and cesspools, although their reason for occupying such spaces in a mystery.

Their society is divided into three classes - Aporrectodea (Priest), Lumbricus (Royal), and Eisenia (Soldier). One will never encounter a single wormkin, as they always travel in groups, or 'congregations' of at least four individuals and up to 100 in verdant, humid locales.

Wormkin communicate via a subtle combination of vibrations and scents, and communication with outsiders is exceptionally difficult. There is a 20% chance that a Priest may have a rudimentary form of ESP, allowing communication with the Aliens, as they refer to any non-wormkin intelligence. Contact with these creatures is almost always a discomforting interaction, as any collection of wormkin seems to act as a hive-mind.

Wormkin:

AC 8/11, HD variable (see below), Att: 1d3 corrosive, or by weapon (hand weapon only), Move 30, Save variable per HD, Al neutral.

Wormkin variable HD (roll 2d6)
2-5	1 HD
6-8	2 HD
9-11	3 HD
12	4 HD

Special: Due to their squishy nature, blunt attacks cause half damage. Wormkin are highly resilient, though, and are immune to disease, including such things as vermin bites, molds, and mummy rot. Wormkin also have prodigious healing capabilities, recovering 1d6 hp per night of rest. Subsisting on vegetative matter, wormkin have evolved powerful gut enzymes, which can degrade natural fibers (cloth or leather) similar to a jelly or be spat in combat (15' range) for 1d3 hp damage.

Using their tremor-sense and sense of smell, wormkin can discern the distance and direction of a target accurately, and may may track humanoid or larger creatures at distances of up to one-quarter mile. Wormkin are exceedingly difficult to sneak up on, and any thief attempting to do so will make their rolls at two levels lower.

Soldiers and Royals may reinforce their bodies with a chitinous armor of unknown manufacture (AC6/13), and there is a 10% chance for individuals to be wearing ceramic armor (AC3/16). Because of the wormkins' anatomy, this armor may not be transferred to another species, nor will they manufacture, modify, or sell the armor to a non-wormkin. The secrets to these lightweight non-metallic armors is a hard-sought goal.

A congregation of wormkin may commune to effect a number of spell-like abilities - their so-called "Dirt Magic." At least one Priest is required for any spell ability, and a Royal is required for 7th level spell-equivalents:

# wormkin/"Spell" (1e equivalent)

2/"Quicksand" - cause a 10x10' area of soil to 'quick' enough to engulf a humanoid. If the target is not extricated, they will sink and suffocate in one turn. Each additional wormkin increases the diameter of the affected area by five feet.

4/Plant Growth (3rd Druid)

4/Speak with Plants (4th Cleric)

5/Transmute Rock to Mud (5th Druid)

6/Move Earth (6th MU)

7/Conjure Earth Elemental (7th Druid)

8/Earthquake (7th Cleric)

This post is biologist-approved.

Random Monster: Hippolyta's Hounds

Just attended A Midsummer's Night Dream ballet with the kidlet, had been a few years since I'd seen the performance.  As always, a visual and dance spectacle...

I had forgotten details of some of the scenes and set, and was quietly amused at some surprised audience gasps as a set piece representing a dew-covered spiderweb descended on-stage - complete with a spider that dwarfed the dancers (4HD, I estimated....).

And so gamable. Fey, drugs, love triangles...

Midway through the first act is a solo dance by Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons.  In this production, she is accompanied by six 'hounds', who circle the stage around her, as if flushing prey.

There is a mere glimpse of the hounds at about 1:40:

Again, noticing details - the dancers ran with their arms stretched before them, the nearly-white dog-heads (below) contrasting with form-fitted reddish 'coats'...

Source

And all I could think was Undead....

www.deviantart.com/seriocomic

Hippolyta's Hounds

Undead hunting dogs bearing the souls of poachers, those who wasted their kills, and those who trespassed in the sacred groves. Captured and cursed by a goddess of the hunt, they live their afterlife in the bodies of decayed hunting hounds...

Bony skulls and bodies flayed of skin, baying in pain and anger, they pursue their own ghostly hunts or trespassers into the groves, as well as seek those next accursed souls.

HD 4; AC 6/13; Atk 1 bite (1d8)1d8 - save or the wound becomes necrotic and can only be healed by magic; Move 14; Save 12; AL N; CL/XP 5/240; No. appearing: 3-6; Special: The hounds' baying has the effect of a 'Scare' spell, -1 to saves for each additional dog in pack greater than three.

www.deviantart.com/nikkiburr

Monster: The Tumorous Spider

Writing up a selection of '4 Scenarios' for a certain mapper's lair, and I needed to throw in a Tumorous Spider to haunt a cavern.

Wait, what.

I never statted up the damn thing (well, a few showed up briefly in a OPD draft). And after I had my wife sketch one up and send it to me so I could immediately lose it in my email.

So a quick stat and description of this lovely critter, so I can add it to the lair...

Isn't she pretty?

Twisted by local corruptions, whether they be magical, biological, radiological, or illogical, these giant (4-5' diameter) spiders crawl about on twisted limbs, warts and tumors seeping pus and fluids.  Tortured and deformed by the powers that bent and diseased their bodies, the spiders remain formidable predators, even in their foul, degraded state. Some hunt from disordered webs, as deformed as their weavers, while others remain ambush predators, lurching from cover to pounce or bowl over prey.

The deformities slow these beasts, and many will have one or more twisted, ineffective legs.  Too many intruders have thought these pathetic creatures an easy foe, only to find themselves cornered and disabled.  For the spider's venom slows an unlucky victim, thus leveling the playing field... 

Likewise, striking the creature has a chance of rupturing one of the tumors, spraying corruption on a melee attacker.  Woe to those exposed to the fluids, as they may soon fall under the same ailment as the spider...

Tumorous Spider: HD: 3 or 4, AC: 6/13, Attacks at -2 due to deformed limbs, Dmg:1d6 + poison (save or slowed, as per spell, 1d6 turns), Movement: 1/2 rate of healthy spider, Special: When struck by a melee weapon, there is a 20% chance for the attacker to be sprayed by tumor fluids. Save or undergo twisted limbs/painful tumors within one week.  1/2 movement and -2 to attacks and poison/disease saves (cure disease to counteract).

Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual Project - The Multicerebral Ogre

Apparently, the watch-lions are too busy ogling the bathing beauties to help our hero out with his little conundrum.  "Oh, don't worry about me, I'll just be over here, slaying the ogre in the dark...."

Multicerebral Ogre
Armour class: As Chain
Hit dice: 1 HD per head (2d4)
Move: walk/run, medium
Attacks: claw x2 (1d8 ea), or by weapon, plus head effects
No. Appearing: 1-2
Morale: 10
Treasure: 50-100 GP/head, 5% chance 10-100 GP gems/head
Alignment: Chaotic
Special: Individual head effects

A multi-headed ogre-kin, perhaps some odd crossbreed between an ogre mage and an ettin, with a healthy dash of infernal influences mixed in... Each ogre will have a random number of heads (2d4), with each head having a particular characteristic or ability (see below).  The variable heads and abilities make them a formidable and unpredictable foe, with each ogre encountered having a nearly unique collection of abilities.

As a being of multiple heads, the ogre is only surprised on a 1 in 6 chance, even when slumbering, as one head always tends to be awake. Fortunately, the heads can be fractious, arguing and occasionally delaying the creature from taking an action or making an attack (-1 initiative).  Negotiating is nearly impossible, unless you can somehow get the heads to agree on a vote. Even then, one head will probably accuse the others of cheating.

Head effects* (d20 per head, reroll duplicate #s):
1-8: None, just yells a lot
9: Bite (1d6 damage)
10: Bite, venomous (1d4 damage, +4 save or die)
11: Tongue-lash (1d3 damage, successful hit may entangle or disarm opponent)
12: Cast Darkness (15' radius)
13: Cast Spook
14: Cast Protection from Good
15: Cast Hypnotism
16: Glare (save or be petrified, 1d4 rounds)
17: Spit acid (1d6 damage, 15' range)
18: Breathe smoke (obscures 10'x20' area)
19: Hock a loogie (gross wad of mucous, half speed for 1d4 rounds)
20: Halitosis (Effect as troglodyte)

* Physical attacks (9-11) at-will; Spell effects (12-16) 1/day; breath attacks (17-20) 3/day

Written for Eric Nieudan’s The Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual Project. This monster ('Multicerebral Ogre') is released under this license:  https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual Project - The Yellow Dwarf

Last(?) contribution to the project.  I think....  A feline-riding fiend that will raid your mage's kit....

"The Yellow Dwarf […] set spurs to his cat, which yelled horribly."

Yellow Dwarf
Armour class: As plate
Hit dice: 3
Move: walk/run, medium to fast
Attacks: "sword," as dagger (1d4)
No. Appearing: 1
Morale: 8
Treasure: 70-100 gp, gems worth 20-200 gp, 50% chance of magical components or minor item
Alignment: Chaotic
Special: Silver or magic weapons to hit, Spells

Not specifically a 'dwarf' by the common understanding, this yellow-skinned fey is more closely related to more malevolent kin as pixies and redcaps.  Wearing a metallic cap and fey-crafted armor, they are immune to mundane weapons, requiring magical or silver weapons to do them harm.

The minuscule miscreants are drawn to arcane magic, and will raid unsecured magical workshops or wizards' studies, stealing rare magical components and small magical items (up to wand-sized).  If caught, they will disappear into a smoky cloud or via some other illusionist subterfuge.

The dwarf may cast three spell per day from the following list: Invisibility, Mirror Image, Phantasmal Force, Protection from Good, Pyrotechnics, and a weak version of Prismatic Spray (30' range;1d6 damage effects, no save; paralysis and blindness last 1d6 rounds if failed save).

The dwarf will press a black cat into service as a mount, luring the cat out of hiding with promises of stinky, oily fish, then capturing it with a cat-sized magic bridle and bit. The cat will typically be ridden to exhaustion on whatever mischievous mission that the dwarf has undertaken. The dusty and disheveled cat may eventually return home, smelling of smoke and dust. The poor creatures are often driven from their homes, under the belief that they have been tainted by the fey.

"The princess sees the yellow dwarf for the first time."

Written for Eric Nieudan’s The Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual Project. This monster ('Yellow Dwarf') is released under this license:  https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual Project - Nyamatsanes

What's up with these little fellows, stumbling along arm in arm as a band of revelers closing down a bar?

Nyamatsanes
Armour class: As Leather & Shield
Hit dice: 1 per individual, cumulative
Move: walk/run, medium to fast
Attacks: claw (1d6) or bite (1d4)
No. Appearing: 2d4
Morale: 6
Treasure: None
Alignment: Chaotic
Special: Damage resistance, cumulative hit die

Little black-skinned demon-goblins swarm out of desert, raiding oasis settlements on moonless nights.  Their anarchic goal is not loot or blood, but dairy...  For the little creatures become intoxicated on milk, accosting dairy animals, raiding milk-barns or looting larders for butter and cheese.  Settlements may withstand their nocturnal predations, only to see the raiding groups return to the deep desert as dawn breaks, stumbling drunkenly and sated until the next moonless night.

Due to their infernal heritage, Nyamatsanes take half damage from normal weapons; however, holy water burns them equivalent to fire. Unfortunately, harming or killing these pilferers is exceptionally difficult. By some mechanism of their conception, the little buggers' vitality is linked, as a hive-being.  Rather than harming an individual, damage is distributed through the bodies of the raiding group...  When half of the group's cumulative hit points are expended, they will flee as a noisome mass, supporting one another and limping into the night.

Written for Eric Nieudan’s The Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual Project. This monster ('Nyamatsanes') is released under this license:  https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual - The Columba-Siren

Can't stop ...  Ford's works are evocative and ripe for the picking.  This time, a small bird-creature confronting a skeptical sailor...

The Columba-Siren

Armour class: As Chain
Hit dice: 1/2
Move: fly, fast
Attacks: claw or wing-buffet (1d2)
No. Appearing: 2d4
Morale: 10
Treasure: None
Alignment: Neutral
Special: Charm

Appearing as a small flock of doves, Columba-Sirens may raise alarm among boatmen in the fjords and rocky archipelagos where they tend to congregate (In fact, a group of these creatures is referred to as a congregation...).

The doves flock to boats as the fishermen cut bait and chum the waters for their day's catch.  Unwise fishermen will attempt to chase the creatures from their bulwarks.  Those who repel or molest the creatures may incur their wrath, as the sirens transform, revealing human heads on their bird bodies.  The creatures will sing, effecting a charm on malicious boatmen, much like their mythical sisters.  However, due to the diminutive size, their powers are likewise diminished.  Saves vs a single columba-siren are made at +4, with a penalty of -1 per 2 additional sirens (i.e. 5 birds would save at +2).  The sirens will attempt to charm the boatmen into shoals or onto rocks, where their boats will be grounded or sunk, and they may become prey to other malicious creatures of the shallows...

However, if mariners shows kindness to the bird-creatures, such as sharing the catch, the sirens will guide them through hazardous passages, or may even act as spotters for productive schools of fish.

Written for Eric Nieudan’s The Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual Project. This monster ('Columba-Siren') is released under this license:  https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual - Fire Naga

One more for the Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual project (taking contributions through 7/31).

Fire Naga

Armor class: As chain
Hit dice: 7
Move: crawl, medium
Attack: Breath weapon 1d8+3 (25’ range, 3x/day) or constrict 2d6/round
Appearing No.: 1
Moral: 10
Treasure : 1000 gp, random wand or magic item (in lair)
Alignment: Chaos
Special: Spells, fire teleportation

Phasing in from the Plane of Fire, the Fire Naga may take an unfortunate unawares as she emerges from a hearth or forge, which she uses as her gateway between the Planes, or perhaps where she has simply been taking a respite.  Fire Nagas are often summoned as spies or servants by elementalists.  However, as a mercurial denizen of fire, they may also be dangerous and unpredictable, with a 10% chance/day to either turn on their summoner, or to choose to follow their own agenda. In combat, she may spit a gout of flame as an attack or defense, or constrict a foe. She will also have access to the following spells: Charm person, heat metal, pyrotechnics (each up to 2/day), and fireball (1/day). If pressed and in need of retreat, a Fire Naga may escape by teleporting through fire, either back to the elemental plane, or to another mundane fire within one mile of her current location.

Written for Eric Nieudan’s The Henry Justice Ford Monster Manual Project. This monster ('Fire Naga') is released under this license:  https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/