Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 24, 2025

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.

Friday, June 6, 2025

June RPG Blog Carnival: Magic Shops


This month's blog carnival is sponsored by Advantage on Arcana and appropriately themed, "Magic Shops and Their Alternatives."

Well, I'd better hop on board before I lose my muse for another several months...

...with the important question: "Why own, when you can rent?"

***

HEY! HEY! HEY! C'mon down to Lucky Eddy's Magic Rentals! 

(On the corner of Rivenbell Road and Langmug Lane - look for the wacky waving wyvern!)

Why buy, when you can RENT?!?

No need to buy an overpriced item from those sketchy elves down the street or that shop run by the bald dude on the river! Especially if you only need it for this quest or mission! Who needs a pack full of unused magical tinker? YOU DON'T!

Lucky Eddy is here to help you lighten that load and set you up for SUCCEESSSS!! No more hauling three swords, "just in case!" We'll get you kitted out and back from that dungeon before the tavern closes!!!

REASONABLE RATES! By the Day, Week, or Month! (Some Exclusions Apply)*

Source

Wednesday, March 20, 2024

D66 Weird Goblins, an Expansion

Another day, another D66 list. Actually, this one isn't out of whole cloth, but is an expansion of another list I did a few years back and recently rediscovered. There, I'd made up a list of 18 (or "36" d66) oddball goblins in response to someone's Santicore request. 

These guys...

Better fill that list out to the current standard:

D66 Gonzo Goblins

by John D Batten

11. Dervish Quibbles: Dancing fools. +1 to morale checks for chaos-forces in the immediate area. Save or become mesmerized by their dance. The rat-skin kilts and scalp tutus are a nice touch.

12. Necro-prosthetic Qols: Equipped with up to six extra undead limbs sutured on. These limbs may or may not be goblin, or even humanoid. They gain one additional attack per grasping limb (strikes at -2, -1 damage).

13. Immolative Booms: Injected with alchemical solvents, these suicide-troopers fling themselves into battle as they burst into flame, 10’ radius damage.

D4:
1. Blue – cold flame – 1d6+1 freezing damage to anyone within range.
2. Yellow – 1d6 damage, cannot be dowsed with water.  Water causes the flames to scatter and spatter.  Those set aflame may only smother the flames (taking 1d4 damage for an additional 1d3 rounds).
3. Red – sucks all oxygen out of air – 1d6 suffocation damage/round, all flame sources extinguished.
4. Green – 1d6 damage, any metal gear worn or carried corrodes.

14. Fungal-blooming Nurgles: Shroom-infested shambling wastrels. 25% chance of being a hive-mind capable of coordinated action. Spore clouds released by melee will cause anyone killed in battle to rise as a fungal zombie.

15. Accretionary Fibbits: Meld together by running headlong into one another. They will merge until they are a large, sticky ball of limbs and teeth. Unwieldy, they roll into a fray, causing crushing and abrading damage (1d4 per two goblin-bodies accreted). 

16. Luminescent Fleens: Glow with sickly yellow or green pulsing lights, half the range of a torch. A skewered goblin will provide light for 2d6 turns before dissolving into a puddle of dimming goo.

Thursday, August 10, 2023

38 More "Who Followed the Party?"

 ...Finally bringing the Camp Followers list up to 100.

  1. Small circus, including a trained bear named Bobo, who is a surprisingly adept pickpocket.
  2. Halfling Cultists, frighteningly cheerful.
  3. One of more of a PC's alleged illegitimate children.
  4. Crows, lots of crows.
  5. One very irascible possum.
  6. "Influencer" half-elf, constantly painting self-portraits of themselves holding meat pies and ales at various taverns.
  7. Dungeon Dietician: Making the best use of your rations and foraging for fun and profit.
  8. A hermit just off a five-year vow of silence. Very talkative.
  9. A pair of harpies attempting to kick off their singing careers.
  10. Five elves trying to promote a new sport, "hööpentossen."
  11. A halfling gambler of some renown, Two-Thumbs Bogwillow.
  12. A monkey with a knife.
  13. A gnome alchemist brewing sketchy potions. Best to camp him downwind.
  14. A vampire wearing a welding helmet.
  15. A bewildered WWI Tommy equipped with a gas mask, entrenching tool, and Lee-Enfield with 50 rounds of .303.
  16. Claustrophobic minotaur.
  17. Someone's mother: Constantly fussing over everyone to wash their hands and have dry socks.
  18. Two Spartan warriors. Very disciplined, but a bit self-important.
  19. Halfling-driven chuckwagon. You are the envy of adventuring parties everywhere.
  20. An intelligent swarm of bats. Communicate by flying formations to play charades.
  21. A poncy Landsknecht wearing bright motley and wielding a two-hander.
  22. A Witchhunter with a portable library of anti-heretical literature. Completely ineffective at recognizing spellcasters and heretics.
  23. Bounty hunter with a repeating crossbow, a bloodhound, and a sheaf of "wanted" posters.
  24. Killer automaton, nigh-unstoppable. Keeps asking for "Sarakonnor" in every town.
  25. A pair of siege engineers. "Trebuchet is the solution to everything."
  26. A gnome artisan specializing in erotic woodcarvings.
  27. The tabaxi cheerleading team.
  28. Knight-errant, constantly affronted, will periodically challenge duels at crossroads and bridges.
  29. A hill giant named Toby. Wears a very revealing macramé breachclout.
  30. Doom-saying fortune-teller. Constantly followed by a small raincloud.
  31. A platoon of gnoll halberdiers. 30% chance of changing sides in the middle of battle.
  32. An aranea with several charmed minions, may abscond with one of your porters.
  33. Birdwatching elf. Makes random stops and shushes party to make observations. Not amused by people giggling at "greater tit."
  34. A wandering monk, a master of seven styles. Occasionally attracts vengeful ninjas.
  35. Vengeful ninjas.
  36. Explorer claiming to be from the center of the earth. Fascinated by nightfall.
  37. Mage with a collection of magic staves carried in a golf bag by a goblin caddy.
  38. Seven dwarves. Become very cross when you call them by adjectives.

Updated Chartopia roller

Sunday, June 18, 2023

12 More Found Deeds

After I discovered that I had passed 500 posts on ye olde blog, I was randomly poking around my old posts and looking at some of my creative endeavors. 

One early post was "12 Found Deeds" obviously inspired by the "Deed to a ruined tower" that one can occasionally lift from within the "Random pickpocket loot" generator.

Now, there are bloggers who can regularly post up d100 lists for such things. For now, I can provide twelve more.

"Forest House" by JJcanvas

You have acquired a deed...

  1. ...to a coastal lighthouse, its light continually surrounded by a magical storm. Currently occupied by a trio of sirens who have been serenading ships onto the rocks.
  2. ..to a tower surrounded by grasslands. Co-opted by a swarm of giant bees and now filled with continuous comb. The queen is obstinate about moving, but may be willing to negotiate a co-habitation agreement, dependent on the consensus of the hive-mind, of course. Will be a sticky restoration project.
  3. ...to a floating orb with no apparent entrance/egress. Has a commanding view of the scintillating, psychedelic Piridian Crystal Reefs. The entrance to the chamber is a teleport gate in the 7th level of the Undercrypt of Mighty Chaos. 
  4. ...to just a shack in the woods. Filled with reams of paranoid screeds and rants against the Ostuithen Dynasty and shelves of tottering bottles of unstable reagents. Nice mountain views.
  5. ...to an abandoned caravanserai along an unused trade road. Filled with a band of hard-partying kobolds who won't leave until you chug a bottle of their mushroom wine and recite the Ballad of The Wakasing Canyon.
  6. ...to an ambulatory carapace-domicile. Scuttles along on hundreds of necro-mechanical legs. Not sure where it is at any given moment. It tends to wander according to its own whims. You'll likely wake up miles from where you went to sleep.
  7. ...to a cozy soddy on the frozen tundra. Risk waking up to herds of musk oxen using it as a scratching post.
  8. The deed itself folds via intricate origami. Upon completion, the piece expands into an immaculate pagoda. Very flammable.
  9. ...to a grounded galleon, halfway up the side of a mountain, and one thousand miles from the closest ocean. Haunted by sailors' ghosts. But at least they keep the decks pristine.
  10. ...to an orbital platform, accessible only by dead technology. Currently occupied by an increasingly eccentric maint-bot. Has petty arguments with the station AI and builds art installations from collected space-junk and spare spacesuits. 
  11. ...to one of a never-ending collection of identical manor houses with immaculate lawns. Truly a hellscape.
  12. ...to an abandoned dwarven wrestling arena and goat-racing ring. On humid days, the air is still redolent of acrid unguents and goat musk.

"Houses by a Creek" by Erik Taberman


Tuesday, February 21, 2023

Random Monster: The Conflagration Spider

Stumbled upon via a friend's feed:

art by Edward Gorey, of course

Anyway, this fellow looks like a fun time. 

And since I enjoy aggravating my poor players with yet another spider variant...  After all, they almost had their asses handed to them by a single pesky crustacean last session. So let's do this...

Conflagration Spider:
Angry, belligerent, and aflame, these arachnids were the unholy development of the vivimancer-alchemist Vladan Bačić. Bačić consorted with certain abyssal powers to create a predator with flammable glands that bathed the beast in arcane fire as it sprinted after its prey or invaded a lair.

The spiders, bred and controlled by the vivimancer, were used to protect his lord's fortifications and to raid the camps of besieging enemies or an opposing army, wreaking destruction and panic. The spiders eventually broke free of their bond-magic, escaping into the mountainous region of the Kawrwel Wastes, a rough land of sparse forests and rocky escarpments, where they lurk and dwell among the ruins and caverns of that ancient borderland to this day. 

Stalkers and sprint-hunters, the spiders lurk among the rock, before bursting into the open, igniting their flames, to descend upon panicked and confused prey. Although born of arachnid stock, Conflagration Spiders have a distinct intolerance for other spiders, stalking them, burning their webs, and consuming any that they capture. 

Attributes: HD4, AC 5/14, Atk: 1d8 bite + 1d8 flame damage (1d3 rounds). Anyone in melee takes 1d6 automatic heat/fire damage. The flame is arcane fire, and not readily extinguished. An individual spider can maintain its fire for 2d3 rounds before needing to regenerate its fire-gland stores. Resistances: Immune to fire, half damage from cold attacks. Curiosities: The glands may be of great value to alchemists and similar researchers hoping to reverse-engineer Vladan Bačić's methods. Great care is required to safely remove a spider's flame-gland, requiring an appropriate attribute or skill roll at difficulty. Failure will result in an explosion (2d6 damage, 10 foot radius, save for half).

seemed apropos

Note: According to the table of contents I found for the book, the cover image depicts "The Black Spider," by Jeremias Gotthelf, a horror story/morality tale of misfortunes befalling a town after a bargain is struck with the Devil (and his avatar, the eponymous spider). I was hoping to find a Project Gutenberg or Librovox version, but it looks like "free" English versions aren't currently available... What translated excerpts I have been able to find have an atmosphere of classic gothic horror and desperation.


Monday, November 7, 2022

Sunday Game recap: The Necromancer's Lament...

 Another Sunday game on the books - 

Tonight's band of miscreants: 

  • Jax and Goober - barbarian/wardog dynamic duo
  • Frederick - Increasingly insectaphobic thief
  • Pepto Von Bismol - Devo Dwarf
  • Rondel Keebler - Crumbly elf
New player showed up - is this a serious game? Well, judging from the existing player names and the fact that everyone gets a random hat, I'd say no. Geoff grabbed a blank character sheet and rolled 3d6 down the line, like a boss...
  • and our new chap: Tylenol - Painkiller Cleric

We started our scene in the fair village of Neuförde, did a bit of banking and real estate investment (the party bought a vacant house), and established a few NPC relationships (There's no thieves' guild, but the town halflings seem to know how to find or disappear things; and the weird elf twins are happy to identify unknown items). Tylenol was determined to be a colleague of the town's priests, and dovetailed in with the group.

The party had closed down the bar, as one does, when an alarm was raid of a raid on the town. Torches and a commotion were heard north of the bridge, and most of the party moved north to investigate, joining some of the locals in discovering a group of goblins raising a ruckus setting fires, and stealing stuff. They engaged in a brief skirmish, slaying a few, and chasing the raiders off. Tylenol sensed that this could be a feint, and stayed south of the bridge, alert for another incursion. Which occurred in the form of several shambling forms from the trees. Aided by a couple of NPCs, Tylenol called upon his god and turned several of the undead. Joined by the party, they killed the remainder. Some of the zombies were unusual, in that a couple were surprisingly fast, and one, when it struck Pepto, left him in a weakened state. Additionally, the undead were formed of deceased goblins and orcs, an interesting observation. The party discovered that the turned number had retreated across the river and slogged north, following the goblin raiders.

Realizing that an abandoned dwarven temple was a good candidate site for the raiders' lair, the party trekked out the next day after shaking off their injuries from the night before. Tracks indicated that the place was quite occupied, and the entrance now sported a deadfall trap. The PCs skirted it, taunted the carrion crawler in the chasm, and crept to the entrance. The door was readily picked, and the door flung open, surprising a goblin sentry. He was rapidly sniped, and disposed of via carrion crawler. 

I provided a sketch map of the previously-explored areas, and the party opted to investigate unexplored areas. Crossing a heavily damaged bridge, the party was ambushed by another goblin guard, but they dispatched him before he was able to retreat and get off a warning. Accessing some corridors and rooms, they found an empty galley and corridor occupied by a pair of dwarven statues, known by Pepto to be animated, provided the correct 'key' could be found to activate them. The party chose to 'walk' one to the top of a flight of stairs in the event they needed to flee and it could be pushed down on pursuers, since they didn't know what would activate it.

Finding a long corridor, a couple of party members saw a faint light and heard communication at the end. Fred stealthed to the end of the corridor, finding a crowd of goblins being berated by a cloaked figure. He returned to the party, indicating that this may the the leader of the previous night's raiders.

The party approached, although their clanking did alert a few of the goblins. As they approached, Fred took a pot-shot at the leader, wounding him. The leader turned, revealing to be a human wearing bone armor. In good bad-guy form, he cursed at the players, giving a monologue about how he wasn't to be fooled like his predecessor, and that he wasn't to be trifled with. Melee issued, with a couple players shooting the big-bad again, preventing him from casting. 

Sunday, August 21, 2022

The Hallucination Made Flesh

So I added to my list of sketchy camp followers a couple of weeks ago, and #25 was evocative enough to me that I needed to expand on the idea... So here ya go, for whatever it's worth...

The Hallucination Made Flesh*

(An NPC companion for a PC who got into a batch of REALLY good mushrooms.)

Occasionally the powers of our minds and illusions are so great, that dreams or visions seem real. And even more rarely, does that mind-altering trip, perhaps in search of enlightenment, inspiration, or an experimental mode, rip a hole in reality, letting that dream enter through.

That hallucination that you swore was so real last night while under the influence of those halfling-grown shrooms, or that sparkly powder you bought off that gnome? Well, it just showed up to breakfast and helped itself to the bacon.

Eyebeam by Sam Hurt

Perhaps your buddies can't see or hear it, but it's there, plain as day, and it just introduced itself as “Hank.” It seems harmless, and friendly enough. Although the appearance of a bug-headed six-foot-tall bunny is a bit off-putting.

But the next time the charlatan illusionist tried to fear the party away, his conjurations had no effect on you. “Don't worry, I got you buddy,” says Hank.

OK, so the odd looks from your companions as you talk to something only you can see might just be worth it.

The Hallucination Made Flesh

HD: PC's Level-1

AC: 7/14 if visible to opponents, otherwise 0/19. Illusionists and creatures with mind control or displacing abilities have a 2 in 6 chance to see a Hallucination Made Flesh.

Attack: Non-combatant. Will use trait from Defense table, below, if attacked.

Saving Throws: As companion PC

Alignment: Neutral

Distinguishing characteristics?

*This is for parody purposes only, and is not intended to make light of addiction, trauma, or mental health.


Monday, August 8, 2022

The Beave-phant, coming to a swamp near you!

 Ok. So the wife picked up this thing on impulse:



Apparently it's a plushy called a Squishmallow. And although the character tag claims that this particular plushy (reportedly named "Mila") is an elephant wearing a beaver costume, we of the adventuring community know the truth.

This is yet another unholy chimera, redolent of the owl-bear. 

Do not let Big Plushy lie to you.

The Beave-phant:

Denizens of the meandering savannah rivers, the beave-phant is a dwarf pachyderm hybridized with a beaver by someone who thought it was a good idea.

HD: 4-6; AC 5/14; Atk: Trunk toss and tail slap (2x 1d6+concussion) or trample (2d8); Move 120’ (40’) (on land or swim); Saving Throws D12 W13 P14 B15 S16 (3); Morale 8; Alignment Neutral; Number Appearing 1d4+2; Special: Concussion - save vs paralysis or be knocked unconscious 2d4 rounds. Drowning potential if victim lands in water.

Ancestor-elephant tusks have been substituted with large chewing teeth, which the creatures use to fell trees for construction of their dams and massive lodges. After felling the tree, the beave-phant will drag it to the waterway, manipulating the log with its trunk. The logs are then stacked and woven together and wattled with excavated mud to build their structures. The dams can block rivers, create lakes, and redirect waterways. Additionally, the beave-phants will excavate into the riverbed to create underwater accessways into their lodges. Where an infestation of beave-phants occurs, they can significantly impact river navigation, canal integrity, and riverside communities and agriculture.

Beave-phants live in small family groups, with a matriarch accompanied by one to two generations of her offspring. The females tend to have a retiring nature, and only act in defense of their family pods or lodges. 

Bachelor herds comprised of semi-aquatic, non lodge-building males migrate between water bodies, seeking mates and sparring with one another for territorial dominance. The males have been known to wreak havoc on crops, as well as excavating furrows through saturated ground during their foraging. The males tend to be overtly aggressive, confronting intruders into their territory, whether beave-phant, other large herbivore, or humanoid. The males will often occupy ponds and lodges abandoned by matriarchal groups or other beave-phant.

Abandoned lodges find other semi-aquatic occupants, including the lizard-folk, who may share the environment with the beave-phants. Beave-phants tend to be wary if not defensive towards lizardfolk, as the latter have been known to hunt beave-phant. If a matriarch or male recognizes lizardfolk who have hunted their kin, they will attack on sight, with no quarter. 

While these aquatic pachyderm-hybrids don't have the valuable tusks of their uncorrupted kin, the heavy chewing teeth can fetch a good price with some ivory collectors (1d6x50gp per tooth).

Not a Beave-phant, but a Platybelodon.
Because Nature is more random than I am.


Sunday, August 7, 2022

More of Who/What has followed the party?

Just putting out a bit of content of the random sort today. A long-awaited continuation of  "Who/What has followed the party?" Because random mooks and ne'er-do-wells are always "helpful" to saddle our otherwise serious and upstanding adventurers with...

Wilhelm Diez – The Camp Followers (1888)

More minions, hirelings, and camp followers of dubious value, a D30+ list:

  1. Miscellaneous torchbearer, whose life you inadvertently saved from a tragic tumbril accident. Insufferable and cloying.
  2. Drunk who followed you from that bar. Just never leaves.
  3. The Last Goblin Standing. Surrendered. Acts as a servant. Awful cook.
  4. Former/deserter soldier. Constantly looking over their shoulder. Wears ridiculous fake moustache when in towns.
  5. Uplifted, sentient giant rat. Can't help stealing food.
  6. Dwarvish twins. Indistinguishable. Their names are indistinguishable, as well.
  7. Alewife. Doughty. Wields a mean beer stein.
  8. Snake-oil salesman. Always has 2d4 vials of questionable potions on hand.
  9. A very attached chicken. Lays one egg per day. Miraculously survives all threats and hazards.
  10. Silent, hooded figure carrying a chained chest. Useful for storing stuff you won't need for a while. Or ever.
  11. Pair of argumentative siblings. Pawned off on you by a distant relative to get them out of the house.
  12. A bankrupt lamp-oil salesman with a gambling problem.
  13. Surveyor. Constantly measuring things with the 10' pole.
  14. An animated hammer. Somehow appeared after visiting that wizard's tower. Taps on doors, sets spikes on command.
  15. Ghost attached to that signet ring you found. Helpful for communicating with undead and peering through walls.
  16. Emancipated gnomish automaton. Communicates through beeps and boops. Collector. Presses flowers, and the occasional fairy.
  17. An ogre named "Petunia." She's a hugger.
  18. A dude that hums that same song over and over again.
  19. Kobold trap-master. Constantly showing off the "provisions" they've caught (Usually rats and large spiders). Spiders are surprisingly good when seared.
  20. Pet ooze. Cleans up after dinner and altercations. Good at obscuring tracks and disposing of evidence.
  21. An escaped cloistered nun. Passable bandaging and herbalism skills. Fascinated by EVERYTHING.
  22. Nudist elf. Maintains eye contact a bit too long. Helpful in finding secret doors, at least.
  23. Mummy on a frankincense bender.
  24. Serpent-folk mystic. Speaks in riddles. Or nonsense. Fabulous feather headdress and bone necklace.
  25. A hallucination made flesh. Those were some reaalllyyy good shrooms.
  26. Several squabbling brownies. They do keep the party's footwear in good condition, though.
  27. A familiar that lost its mage. A random PC now has an extra 1d4 hp and a random 1st level spell, useable once per day.
  28. Drummer boy. Perhaps a fife player too. Blatantly patriotic.
  29. "Famed Mage From Another Land" Actually just a passable sleight-of-hand street magician. Makes balloon animals. Useful for distracting goblins and hayseeds.
  30. Halfling pipeweed dealer. Just got some good shit in from the shire, plus some sketchy powder from the gnomes. May have sold you those shrooms (#25).
  31. Washed-up prizefighter sporting a fine set of cauliflower ears. 2x1d6 unarmed damage/round and grapples opponent on a 19 or 20.
  32. An alien. Taking notes. Will carry something under duress. Zaps things with blaster only in self defense (2d12dmg).

"Camp Followers" by Anton Hoffmann

And updated the Chartopia table with the expanded list of characters...

Monday, May 23, 2022

Writing Prompt: Secret Jackalope 2022, Part IV

One more prompt from the OSR Discord "Secret Jackalope 2022" writing prompts (Round 2 assignments). This time, "Nonstandard creatures with useful bits and how to harvest them" via user @wyattwashere.

Nonstandard creatures, eh? 

Well, OK. I guess I'll delve back to the lunacy that is the 1981 Fiend Folio and pull up a few uncommon (and at least one better-known) critters and make up some stuff.

The harvested organs and products are each one element in the creation of their respective products, and other undetermined ingredients or reagents will be required....

1d7 Unpleasant Monsters and Their Useful Bits

The Adherer - The adherer is a creature resembling a mummy, but is not an undead. Instead, it secretes a “resinous solvent” that causes any weapons to stick to it until the creature is slain. Fortunately, it is susceptible to fire, and boiling water, in sufficient quantities, can break the adhesive's grip. The adhesion breaks down 5-10 turns after the creature's death.


Product: Although the excretions from this creature have been rumored to be ingredients for sovereign glue or universal solvent, wise practitioners of the alchemical arts know that this is folly. However, the “glue” has been incorporated into another reagent to help deal with more ghostly foes:

Spirit Gum: An application of this viscous fluid will cause an incorporeal foe to become semi-corporeal for 2d4 rounds, allowing them to take half-damage from non-magical weapons during that period. 

Adhesive from two adherers is required to create one use of spirit gum. The adhesive must be collected immediately upon the adherer's death by dissolving the adhesive in four gallons of hot water. The water is then distilled off to provide raw material for creation of the gum. 

Crypt Thing – This is a moderately powerful undead whose primary defense/effect is to teleport its foes to a random location (100-1000 feet distant, or up/down one dungeon level). 


Product: Arcane research has determined that this ability lies within the shriveled pituitary of the creature, nestled at the base of its mummified brain. Upon slaying one of these challenging undead, a knowledgeable individual may be able to identify and remove the gland with a magical weapon.

These may be used to create a Wand of Teleportation at half the time and expense. However, because of the corruptions inherent within the crypt thing's preservation and reanimation, there is a 2 in 20 chance that use of the item will send the user in a random direction consistent with the crypt thing's inherent abilities (table from FF, below).


Disenchanter – This aggravating creature's ability is magic drain, as it "feeds" on magical energy, attacking enchanted items and sucking out the magic through its extensible snout.



Product: The capacitor-like organ where a disenchanter "digests" enchantments resembles a stomach, but is packed with filaments capable of absorbing arcane energies. From this organ, an expert biomancer may create one of two devices. 

Monday, May 2, 2022

Writing Prompt: Secret Jackalope 2022, Part III

Sneaking in another uncompleted Secret Jackalope writing prompt off the OSR Discord:

Goblin Glenn Close requested:  "Party time! Please invent 6 festivals for a town or city in the setting of your choice."

Here we go:

Several years back, I roughed out an insular halfling collective of interconnected villages out in the hinterlands somewhere, so I suppose that they need a few celebrations specific to their community and individual settlements...  

1. First Bloom: The village of Amberhallow tenses with anticipation in the spring as the buds swell on the sacred tulip tree, an ancient, twisted growth in the center of the market square. It is a unique tree, with none like it in the forests, and although it blooms, no seeds ever germinate. It also hearkens the end of the Hungry Gap, as herbs and leafy greens begin to emerge. Oh yes, the blooms. Lots are drawn and food and drink laid in for the fete. Eyes can't help but drift to the tree as it greens and buds. What day and hour will it bloom, and who will receive the blessed tiding of the year for having guessed the closest to the emergent moment? At the sign of the first bloom, all tasks are dropped, all duties set aside, as the town explodes in joyous exultation, with gaunt residents pooling the remains of their stores to feast and dance, for the spring can't truly arrive until this storied tree reveals itself.


2. Burning Minds: Upon the summer solstice, the Myconids silently emerge from the deep forest to join the citizens of Birchspell for a week of spore-driven hallucination and hive-minding. Secrets are revealed and thoughts stripped bare during this week of ecstatic dance, commutation, and clairvoyance. It is a time of soul-baring and forgiveness, going back generations for the community, since they first made contact with the mysterious mushroom-folk. The Myconids receive, in turn, wagonloads of manure and corn whisky, which they carry back to their enclaves hidden within humid caverns deep in the forest for their own cultivations and purpose. 

3. The Scouts' Honor: The Bogaert Scouts are the community's watchful eyes and outriders. In the summer, they are honored in Myrkan with a festival of food and competitions. This is one of the few celebrations where outsiders join, as halfling marksmen, hunters, and snipers from far-flung communities ride in to try themselves against the Scouts. The Scouts and their guests compete in archery and slinging, both in accuracy and trick-shooting. Many apples are slain, and arrows are split. The sling competition of “Bonk the Giant” is always a crowd favorite, as the large wicker figure takes abuse from sling stones until collapsing into a splintered wreck. The celebration culminates with a hide-n-seek competition lasting three days, with the winner receiving the honorary Green Hood of Peplyn.


4. Call of the Bread: Upon the grain harvest comes the Call of the Bread, the hallowed celebration of the baked crafts. This is often the most festive and raucous of the community celebrations as the halflings gather in Myrkan to celebrate and eat. And eat. All things baked are joyously and intensely celebrated, and baking contests of complex artworks of bread, sweets, and rolls are the order of the day. Last year the theme was “Bread as Hats” and quite elaborate and tasty headgear was flaunted by the competing bakers.

5. Return of the Brown Cow: The hamlet of Deepshire releases a blessed cow into the Ablan Timberlands every spring. She fades into the dark forest, rumored to be haunted by the dead of failed pioneers, or by ineffable fey. Upon the bovine's return in the autumn (and somehow, she always returns), the village feasts and fetes, with the village elders and seers gathering around the prodigal beast to read auguries writ into the scars on her hide and ferment holy draughts from her milk. 

6. Grim Dance of the Winter Wolves: Held on the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, lean villagers gather to make a solemn dance in their halls, howling in imitation of the wolves that call at the edges of the forest. At midnight, an extra pig, or perhaps a totem of salted meat, is left in the market square, to be stolen away by the wolves in the night. There are rumors that in past times, or during particularly harsh winters, that a resident would be chosen by lot to be drugged and left out as offering for the beasts, but if anyone inquires to this tale, the villagers will politely change the subject.

***

And Some Bonus Festivals:

Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Writing Prompt: Secret Jackalope 2022, Part II

Folks over on the OSR Discord have started sniping one another's Secret Jackalope prompts, adding to the variety, creativity, and insanity of the writing prompts.

And I need to loosen up my mind with a bit of free-writing.  So here's a request from user Sigmacastell: "1d10 Failed World-Ending Rituals"

Ok. 

First of all, a word from our sponsor: Tonight's creative muse is brought to you, in part, by Hellbent Kölsch.

Ahem...

Apocalypse 6. Opening the seals

1d10 (plus one) Failed World-Ending Rituals 

(or, Eleven Reasons That the World Was Inadvertently Saved From Certain Doom On This Fateful Night)

  1. Dyslexia: The Ancestral Invocation of the Wraiths of Insanity was disrupted because Brother Llewellyn brought a vegan for the sacrifice instead of a virgin.

  2. Scheduling Conflict*: Who could have known that both the the Creed of Greprithos and the Harbingers of Clarity would have foretold that their particular apocalypse rituals at the Stone of Perchaverack would occur on the same night intersecting a particular 200-year planetary alignment and gibbous moon? A serious kerfuffle ensued, followed by a coordination of Google calendars for the next bicentennial planetary alignment.

  3. Pronunciation Error: The Chant of L'etllx inadvertently called up the Dark Lord's brother-in-law L'yttlx, who, instead of ushering in The Burning Winds, indoctrinated the Cult of the Wanderers of Aleflashi into a multi-level-marketing scheme, inspiring them to shill questionable dietary supplements and ergonomic sacrificial daggers to friends and relatives.   

  4. Dress Code: Brother Simon wore the wrong socks to the Ancient Ceremony of Fiends. The Fiends are quite particular about their 100% merlino wool. Blends will just not do.

  5. Procrastination: Fortunately the world-core-shattering Consuming Evocation of the Ghastly Monolith keeps getting postponed by the Cult of Our Holy Sister of the Frittering Nemesis.

  6. Quality Control: No organic-certified(tm) sacrificial goats were available during the window of opportunity for the Paragons of the Comet's Star-Fall Ritual of the Chain of Disorder.

  7. Divine Intervention: Planetary doom was delayed when the dark All-Father-God Croesten showed up when the Cult of Harrowed Emissaries summoned his son Antasban the Dire to enact the Bane of Mankind. Croesten admonished Antasban and grounded him for being out after the solar alignment, before likewise giving the cult a good scolding and leaving in a huff.

  8. IT Problems: Vaccine-implanted 5G microchipping was found to be incompatible with the original coding used by the Antikythera mechanism for the Summoning of the Grave of Heaven.

  9. Failure to Read the Terms and Conditions: Something-something first-born....

  10. Global Warming: The Ritual of the Sallow Wolf has been canceled due to the death of the One-Tree Athachenth, which has been attributed to climate-change-driven invasive boring beetles.

  11. Dead Language: The last native speaker of the Hallowed Tongue of the Hontintur passed away last week prior to the completion and quality-control verification of the final phonetic transcription of the Moon-Splitting Song of Vlu.

or perhaps pancakes...

Completed with some help from a few Random Name Generators.

* And, because user Jojiro was curious as to what constitutes a 'kerfuffle' when two apocalypse cults meet on the same foretold night:

Thursday, December 30, 2021

Improvised Solo Adventure

Greetings, fellow adventurers!

Currently having the mixed blessing of the inadvertent adventure of cancelled flights due to a combination of the plague and two atmospheric rivers gut-punching the West Coast.

Thankfully, I'm visiting family, so much better off than the poor souls stuck at airports or hotels. And I have a notebook and the interwebs. 

So I cobbled together a quick and dirty solo adventure of random rolls using OSE as a framework. 

Initially I grabbed a PC from a random character generator - yielding a cleric with above average WIS and CHA and equipped with plate and shield. Solid start. I bumped our hero to 2nd level for a spell, and gave him two Meatshields extras.

I could have found a procedural dungeon generator, but went bare-bones with a simple d6 roll:

1-3: corridor

4: Door

5: intersection ('T' or 'cross' 50/50)

6: Room

When a room was rolled, it got the B/X random stocking roll:

Monsters were generated using the OSE Reference Booklet.

Encounters were d6 for surprise plus 2d6 for reaction. Combat was loosely based on Kevin Crawford's Solo Heroes. Successful monster attacks caused 1 point of damage, and heroes/hirelings caused 1hd damage (e.g. a 2HD monster required 2 hits to go down).

How did it go?

The adventure:


Saturday, December 4, 2021

The Grumpy Old Man character class

This came to me as I woke up this AM. So I had to write it down. And share. Sorry about that.

A friend was lamenting the impending passage into dotage with the purchase of a pair of readers. Welcome to the club, dude.

Oh look, time for a new pair of readers

Which must have inspired my morning meditations on that neighborhood terror, the Grumpy Old Man.

A dynamic duo for the ages

Anyway, I'm not sure how many of us get characters to name level/retirement age. Mine seem to get retired early in the depths of some labyrinth. But I'm sure it happens. And while one may aim to build a domain, lord over some vassals, and make a name for themselves, I'm sure that plenty of others are happy to hang up the spurs or spellbooks and just tend a garden, rock on the front porch, and complain about the kids and their too-loud lute music. 

So bask in the glory that is the convertible character class, the Grumpy Old Man. Simply take your 10th level PC, change their class to G.O.M., and park them on their porch.


Ok, well, if someone askes nicely, they may step off to totter out and help out with a local problem.  Bulettes in the field, dragon eating sheep, necromancer defiling the graveyard. But don't ask much, because it's Tuesday, and that's the Early Bird Special at the pub.  

They're tough, they know stuff, and they are not ones to suffer fools. And don't you dare track across the lawn. They just mowed it.

Hmmf!

(Updated 15/5 - minor edits to character description and immunities)




Saturday, March 6, 2021

Dwarven Architectural Criticism, or Yozzat Makes Fun of Mega Bloks

(Wherein a friend shared pics of his 5-year-old's progress building a castle with Mega Bloks, and my dwarf PC gets all judgey- a quick freewriting exercise) 

***

Magnus Keep and the Surrounding Lands

Notes by Yozzat Leadjaw, Engineer

Uncle Thurnael,

I have traveled to the site of Magnus Keep, a fortification along the Oshawa Wildlands, to collect a bounty for an old blood feud. As I had a few days waiting for my contact, I made a survey of the fort to bide my time. I have attached sketches and illustrations of the fort’s architecture and probable construction sequence for future reference.

The Keep is a keep-and-bailey fortification, typical of small to medium sized hardpoints on the boundaries of territories in these parts. Situated on a defensible defile, the Keep overlooks a wide valley into the inhospitable cold lands to the north, and a large lake to the south.

The stonework is passable, if not a bit primitive (no dwarven craftsmanship, to be sure). The fort shows evidence of typical progressive construction, with stone transported from multiple quarries. As such, the quality and fitment of the stonework is variable.

The keep itself is narrow and rectangular. Based on the position and craftmanship, it is obvious that this was the original structure. A tower abutting the keep shows some signs of settlement and poor foundation engineering, another clear indication of non-dwarven construction techniques and haphazard building. The attached gatehouse and barbican are overbuilt, as if to compensate for this shoddy work (sketch below).



Sunday, December 13, 2020

Witebörd Dungeön

Well, last week's foray into Steve's White City of the Death Monkey God saw Shamus get feared out of the room, Vicil reduced to 3hp, and Sumeh avert a hold spell (and pending disaster) by judicious use of longsword. We did get some gems and a human femur with a crystal that seems to act as a detect magic. A qualified success, then. 

Steve also posted up his whiteboard the following morning. Obviously working on some Very Important Manager Stuff. 


And when people leave maps around, I may pick them up and make an even bigger mess of them. 

And I needed a focused writing exercise: About 90 minutes of freewriting produced the first draft, with some half-assed editing and additions this AM. Was good to just walk through the space room by room and say, "OK, what's here and why?" Steve says he's going to kill/run his home group in it. So we'll see how that goes...

 DARE YOU ENTER THE WITEBÖRD DUNGEÖN

As a bonus, the adventure also includes some brief advice for Dungeon Project Managers. You're welcome. 

Oh, and Matt prettied up the map.

Thursday, October 3, 2019

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)
2-51 HD
6-82 HD
9-113 HD
124 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.

Saturday, July 27, 2019

Beware the Goblin Peehole!

Well, Bryce reviewed/savaged a few of my released adventures... Within his usual snark was some serviceable criticism - I do need to tighten up my writing on some aspects of descriptions and such, and make sure the important details are up front for the GM. (I do appreciate feedback, after all - pro or con).

One criticism was redundancy and superfluous room description, using a statted 'guardpost' room as an egregious example... yeah - I over-wrote it.  But then there's the detail of the peephole in the post's door, where intruders may be spotted - per Bryce:

"The guardroom has a peerhole and a couple of monsters poking around in the rubble, with a small chance of them using the peehole. " (italics mine)

My own snark here, but if you're reviewing and criticizing someone's work and quality, proofread your own blog. Typos set me off. I may not be the best writer, but I proofread/spellcheck my stuff.

But peehole...  And the associated goblin guards... 

"There is a 2-in-6 chance that one of the goblins will hear someone outside the door, leap onto the door, and urinate through the peephole.  Any PC attempting to spy through the peephole will be drenched..."

Save vs disease or contract a virulent goblin malady:
  1. Screaming Buboes  - The buboes scream, not the patient. No chance of silent movement. No one gets any sleep.
  2. Crawling Pox - Oh gawd where am I gonna itch today?
  3. Spitting Sores - Any uncovered sore spatters ichor up to six feet. Anyone struck with the fluid must save vs disease or become infected in turn.
  4. Glowing Rash - Infected glows as per candlelight - possibly useful, probably a liability.
  5. Honking Cough - Infected sounds like a flock of arguing geese. Don't even think of trying to sneak up on anything.
  6. Walking Lockjaw - Seizes up a different random joint each day.
  7. Steaming Boils - Infected is surrounded by a vaporous mist. Some boils may intermittently whistle. The boils put off a putrid miasma (troglodyte equivalent).
  8. Hopping Tremors - The infected is consumed by involuntary hopping and jittering. No sleep-based recovery allowed.
The effects typically last 1d6 days, although there is a 20% chance that the PC has acquired a particularly virulent strain, lasting 1d6 weeks, and a 10% chance that the affliction is chronic... Cure disease should do the trick. Maybe... Hopefully...

Beware of GTDs - Goblin Transmitted Diseases