Showing posts with label Creatures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Creatures. Show all posts

the Skull Hawker

The call starts simple enough, piercing the eternal silence of the Dungeon: 

"HEY"

Echoing so close, it can easily be mistaken for something someone in the party said. A sudden outburst in a place like this is not unheard of, and no shame to all but the most hardened adventurer. There would be no judgement.

"HEY? HEY!" 

This time slightly further away. Or perhaps behind. Certainty, now, that it is not one of the party. Yet, no other light source burns in the immediate area. What poor soul could be trapped down here with no light source? Soon the answer becomes all too obvious.

"YOU WANNA BUY A SKULL?"

the Skull Hawker
     [Travel Event] 

S 0 | P 0 | C 0 | W 1
H/D 1/0
Likes: Skulls, Haggling
Hates: Bright light, Slime



Scuttling from the darkness and every tight space in the general area, 10 + [discard value] leathery cephalopods, knee high to the average human and wearing skulls for shells, swarm the player characters, babbling away as they do so. 
"BUY? SKULL? YOU BUY!"

These creatures wish no ill will to the PCs, the opposite actually. They wish to provide the adventurers with the highest quality skulls possible. For a price of course. 

Barking and babbling, they'll call out various prices while showing off the various skulls they carry with them, just in case of a sale. Trouble is, they neither understand currency nor haggling. They sure as hell love it though. To the point they'll even begin swapping between themselves and the players, should the bastards get their fervor up. Should the players seem not interested in buying, the Hawkers will naturally see if they're interested in selling. 

"SKULLS HERE. GET YA SKULLS. ONLY ONE PREVIOUS OWNER! LIKE NEW!"

 Now, by themselves, they ain't much of a threat. They just want to buy and sell their skull collections. That's it. The problem comes with how damn loud they are, and the fact they refuse to take 'No' as an answer. Seemingly incapable of speaking quieter than a scream, they generate a huge racket, drawing the interest of any nearby dungeon horror. That, paired with encircling the players almost instantly, could spell trouble. 

"HEY BUDDY. I'LL GIVE YOU A GOLD FOR YOUR SKULL! YOU SELLING?"

Mechanically, this means that until the Skull Hawkers are convinced to go away, anything that would need peace and quiet, or extended concentration, automatically fails. Attempts at being stealthy are right out. When pulling from the Meatgrinder, pull twice, as both events happen at the same time. (Except for two instances of [Torches Gutter] being drawn at once. Just do it once.) 

"BUYING? BUY! SELL! 30 GOLD! YOU GIVE."

Now, why are they doing all this? It's sort of a cargo cult situation, really. Ever since their home, the Underworld, opened up to the surface, those damned surface dwellers have been coming down here to die. But why? The Hawkers are attempting to figure that out. Finding so many corpses of adventurers, the Hawkers' greatest minds examined them in detail, as they pulled on their beards and scratched their chins in deep thought. Eventually, a pattern was realized; there were almost always two things on the found bodies: coins and skulls. Surely these had to be related. Surely the surface dwellers valued these things. Why else would they bring them down here to be buried with? Thus, Hawker society suddenly formed a Merchant class, one that was immediately sent out to worship and barter with these Surfacers.
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Bubble Head

 I ain't got time to make it pretty, but I've got time to force it up on you. Hell, I'm still on phone, so I don't know how big that image is gonna be. 


Bubble Head




Some poor bastard who's had a parasitic prototype of a military grade cyber augment forced upon him by some unknown party (Vitulus Aureus lab technicians) and some how made his way back into the general public. His actions and consciousness might not be his. 

The gimmick here would have been (players never met Vitulus Aureus "representatives") to teach the players to shoot the glowing red spot that was the Drone Control Unit on the figure's head. Rough, but not impossible, if they didn't get it. Quick and rather easy if they did. Which would have been good, because the system would have turned up on robotic tanks later. 

Update

Huh, okay, yeah. That was not the best time to be gone. 

There are questions, naturally. I will see if I can address them. 

When addressing puzzles, players typically have three options:
  1. Fuck Around and Find Out
  2. Use Knowledge
  3. Run Away

This methodology can apply for component enemies, though with more aggressive results as the "puzzle" will not want to be interacted with or will be trying to interact with the players in a less than friendly manner. 

While usage of a Component enemy is relatively the same as a normal creature deployment, a small amount of effort must be engaged in by the game master/game designer. Namely, as the GM would describe a puzzle in detail, so too must they offer greater detail to the players than "bandit in leather armor." Communication is key here. Care must be taken to ensure that every non-secret piece of the puzzle is provided. Likewise, when the PC attacks or otherwise interacts, the GM should ask "how are you attacking and what are you targeting"?

"The frail, lithe figure stands his ground, though his eyes are ever distant. Upon the top of his head, lording over the figure, a cybernetic sensor array glares, unblinking, forever judging. A heavy shield composed of polycarbonate fullerene drifts quietly on micro fusion monojets tucked within its carapace, lurking hungrily around the figure as though a dog preparing to defend its master."

Here the description has noted the three main pieces: the meat body (just sort of there), the DCU (above the meat body, and suggested to be separate from), and the shield drone (circling the meat body). 

So what are the potential ways the players interact with it? Let's look:

Fucking Around and Find Out
The answer is not always on the character sheet, nor is it always in the GM notes. 

What if we shoot it?
Probably the opening move. The shield intercepts and the attack is absorbed.

What if we shoot it again?
Honestly, you might get lucky and do enough damage to the shield to break it, leaving the Meat Body defenseless.

What about an area attack? 
Probably gets through the Shield's protection. You're attacking an Area, not the Meat Body (pedantic). Also the shield can't really stop gas, can it? EMPs might also screw the system up.  
 
What if we break the monojets of the shield?
Hey! Now you're thinking. Damaging the jets probably slows the shield down, offering a "x in 6" chance of the attack getting through, where x is the number of monojets destroyed. 
 
What if we shoot the sensor array on top? 
It's not part of the Meat Body, so is unprotected. Then the Shield stops receiving information and the Meat Body is unprotected. 

What if we shoot the gun? 
Technically not part of the Meat Body and unprotected. It probably breaks. 

Using Knowledge
You HAVE been leaving lore around the dungeon, right? 

Remembering the post-it note on the discovered schematics complaining about how the Z-axis alignment was misaligned on the Shield orientation. 
Probably means the DCU at the top is unprotected. 

Remembering the Command word mentioned in the inner office email from the hacked system. 
Yelling it probably deactivates the system.

The game mechanics offer multiple ways of gleaning information not typically given in descriptions. 
Try using those to see if something else is available.

Remembering that one episode of Burn Notice where he used a thick wool blanket to trick a motion sensor. 
I wonder if that actually works?

Run Away

Honestly, how is this your problem? Run away and let someone else deal with it. 




Attacking a creature using it's weakness (werewolves, silver) is a stripped down form of this. Players know to use silver and/or Wolf's Bane on Werewolves because of previous Knowledge, and well known Fucking Around and Finding Out. The Werewolf's healing factor/damage reduction is simply a component of the beast, which is deactivated using the weaknesses. 

Yes, yes, it's not a terribly complicated puzzle, much like that first lock in the first dragon tomb you encounter in Skyrim, but it's there to ease you into it. More complicated examples to (possibly) come. 

As the enemy can (and should) attack your character sheet, this is similar to attacking theirs. It makes combat a bit more strategic, and certainly better than the boring "I shoot it." round after round after round. 

If it helps, "Bubble Head" can been seen as a collective name for three individual entities working together in symbiosis: 
  1. The Drone Control Unit: Programmed to protect the Meat Body, but not itself, via orders given to the Shield. Sits above the Meat Body, like a malicious hat. 
  2. Shield Drone: Only knows the world through data provided from the DCU. Only wants to protect the Meat Body. And only the Meat Body.
  3. Meat Body: His name used to be Greg and he enjoyed bird watching. Now it's Unit #136 and he enjoys carrying out the violent orders of his handlers. 
The Shield Drone does not stop attacks against the Drone Control simply because it is not the Meat Body. However, without the Drone Control it can not receive input and goes offline. 


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Hydra Knight


Perhaps they were a knight who slew a hydra, only to be infected with the blood in the process. Perhaps they made a poorly worded deal with a fairies to regrow limbs lost. Or maybe some dumb bastard just pissed off the wrong god. Maybe all of them, and they're bound to protect a place, which your PCs just so happen to be robbing. Who knows. 


The Hydra Knight appears as an average height human clad in plate armor, horribly rended. Where their right arm should be two arms grow from the socket. Two hands hang from their left wrist. A tiny, confused head sprouts from an old scar on their neck. 

Removing their helm is not advised. Not for any mechanical reason, but just because they're ugly as hell: a mouth full of too many teeth plus extras, two eyes sharing the same socket (and a third normal eye in it's own socket). Their ears can't be looking too great either.

They smell strongly of copper. 

The Knight's curse is simple: Should they lose a part of themselves, two more will grow back. Lose an arm? Two grow from the socket. Finger bitten off? Worry not, for now there are six on that hand. Cut your leg shaving? Welcome to your new, tiny, vestigial leg.  

Photoshopping on a trackpad is awful. 


The Hydra Knight 


GLoG 

Level 5 (d8)
Defense Plate-1  Attack 5 + (1/extra Arm)  Long Sword (d10) 
Movement 12 + (1/extra leg)   Save 10  Int 6 (Suffering Madness)   Moral 17 
§ Poisoned Blood: Anyone within 5' of a Hydra Knight when it takes damage Save vs Poison
§ Fragile Limbs: Should an Attack against the Hydra Knight succeed by 5 or more, the Hydra Knight loses a limb
§ Regrow Limbs: Should the Hydra Knight lose a limb, two more grow in it's place - almost instantly.


OSE 

AC 3 [16] 
HD 5 (20hp) 
Att 5 (+1/arm) x Longsword (1d10) 
THACO 14 [+5] (-1/[+1] per extra arm) 
MV 30' (10')  (+5 per extra leg)
SV By HD 
ML
AL Chaos 
XP 400  
NA 1 (1) 
TT S
>Poisoned Blood: Anyone within 5' of a Hydra Knight when it takes damage makes a Death save or is poisoned
>Fragile Limbs: Should an Attack against the Hydra Knight succeed by 5 or more, the Hydra Knight loses a limb
>Regrow Limbs: Should the Hydra Knight lose a limb, two more grow in it's place - almost instantly. 

Troika!

Skill 7
Stamina 7
Initiative 2
Armor 3 (Heavy Armor)
Damage as Weapon

Special
>Poisoned Blood: Anyone within 5' of a Hydra Knight when it takes 4 damage and 1 damage per turn until they successfully Test their Luck. 
>Fragile Limbs: If an Attack against the Hydra Knight does the full damage, the Hydra Knight loses a limb. It just pops right off. 
>Regrow Limbs: Should the Hydra Knight lose a limb, two more grow in it's place - almost instantly. 

Mien
1. Curious
2. Wary
3. Hateful
4. More Hateful 
5. Aggressive
6. Aggressive 
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1d10 Gangs of MegaEast

The mofia, Yakuza, and the Irish mob are all alive and well in the year 20XX. Really well. They've moved into politics and have themselves a senator or three. That's good and all for when you get mixed up in corporate business, but until then, here are some lesser gangs of MegaEast.

Rockerboys
There are some who, while enjoying the rockabilly aesthetic, realize what a pain in the ass the upkeep of it is. I then They then give it up and move on with their life. There are others who double down on it and blend it with the modern day cybernetics. Then, obviously, they form a street gang. One with flames on their prosthetics and who chooses their leader based on largest pompadour.

Style: Large Pompadours, Leather Jackets, and Hot Rods.
Wants: Smoke cigarettes, Listen to neuvo-rockabilly, Get money for their hot-rods - sorry, "cyber hot-rods." 

Typical Member
HD 1  AC Medium  Weapon Light Melee 1d6 
Move 12  Int 10  Moral 8

Dead Rabbits
In 20YY, a damn strange and rare thing happened: a teenager opened a history book. Not a vid, but an actual codex full of history. They probably found it in an old dusty, burnt out bookstore, forgotten after the Collapse. Not important. What is important, is the book was on the history of gangs of New York City. And with that, the Dead Rabbits were reborn. Sort of. The thing is the kid didn't actually know what a rabbit was - just thought it sounded cool - and there was no follow up.

Swearing off modern fashions and cybernetics for re-creationist pieces of the 1850's, they're the fanciest, old school lads on the block. But don't let that fool you, these boys love violence, mostly for the sake of violence. You'll note that you're in their territory by the presence of their battle symbol (a hare on a pike) decorating the area. It's rumored the original book that started it all is still kept in their headquarters in New York City.

They also have a Lady's Auxiliary.

Style: Clockwork Orange meets Gangs of New York, but described second hand by someone who read it out of a book they weren't really paying attention to.
Wants: Sex, Drugs, Violence, Defend their turf, Violence and Good times (violence)

Typical Member
HD 2  AC Light  Weapon Medium Melee 1d8/1d10
Move 12  Int 10  Moral Special
*Moral is based on the number of Dead Rabbits still in the fight

Jazz Rabbits
Any large organization has internal arguments. It's just sort of what humans do. The Dead Rabbits were no different. At some point an argument broke out (possibly over what a rabbit was) and almost half took offense and left their ranks. Unlike the Dead Rabbits, however, they mix their fashion with more modern design and will use cybernetics.

Where most gangs look to increase their status and riches, the Jazz Rabbits look to reunify with the Dead Rabbits, mostly through force.

Style: Like Dead Rabbits, but more modern and cyberized.
Wants: Same as Dead Rabbits, but also to take over the Dead Rabbits and reunify

Typical Member
Same as Dead Rabbits, but Melee weapon is 1d8 and immune to disarm

Chad Boys
What do you get when you mix a world that idolizes violence and a bored fraternity that has nothing to do as college is out from the constant plagues that sweep the world? A gang that thinks they're top shit, but clearly out of their league. Not that that'll stop them. Fueled by daddy's money, or their own trust fund, they carry top grade gear but lack the training to actually use it effectively. While they act touch and flashy in numbers, they're quick to flee should the fight turn against them. Fully expect litigation afterwards.

Several will carry a vape on them. If given a full round to inhale, they expel a cloud that provides total cover in the area for 1d4 rounds.

Style: Polos (collar popped), Khaki cargo shorts, Socks with sandals
Wants: Cheap beer in copious amounts, Drugs, Hit the kegger on Friday night

Typical Member
HD 1  AC Light  Weapon Medium Pistol 1d8 (+1 Slot)
Move 12  Int 10  Moral 5

The Sentinels
'Roided up, drug fueled masculinity doesn't call it quites at the end of the shift. This is especially true for Zen Security officers who, per company policy, are required to take a concoction of stimulants and mood enhancers at the beginning of their shift. A continued usage of which rots your already diseased mind. So what's a feral pig to do? Take off your badge and put on your gang jacket, apparently.

The Sentinels are a collection of off duty, retired, and administrative leave Zen Security officers who continue to play warrior off duty. Wearing armor and wielding arms they "borrowed" from work, they usually extort a high price for "protection" in the neighborhoods they operate in, and easily meet the most meager of slights against them with an over the top response.

Remember: ACAB.

Style: Tacticool gear, Big guns, Buzz cuts, Shooter glasses
Wants: Shoot shit, fight other gangs/assumed degenerates, compensate personal inadequacies through extreme violence

Typical Member
HD 3  AC Heavy  Weapon Medium Rifle 1d10
Move 12  Int 8  Moral 7

In-Liners
In a world where the 80's never ended, all the worst stuff remained in fashion: unchecked greed, massive fraud, in-line skating. The In-Liners are the raddest cool-dudes on the boardwalk, with a taste for thievery. Specializing in snatch-and-grabs and skate based parkour, while not specifically dangerous, they can be powerfully annoying.

Given their proficiency with in-line skating, they can move-attack-move every round.

Style: Bright neon tank tops, Skating saftey gear, Jean shorts, Roller blades, Sunglasses from back to the Future 2
Wants: do some sweet moves, crime (while doing sweet moves)

Typical Member
HD 1  AC Light  Weapon Light Melee 1d6
Move 24 (splitable)  Int 10  Moral 5

Script Kittens
Decked out in neko themed clothing and a vast array of wearable devices, every member has a headdrive paired to their, and other's, devices. Should you encounter them, you'll not likely meet their full force, as they often leave one or two off to the shadows monitoring the situation and hacking as need be.

Style: Neko themed attire mixed with wearable devices.
Wants: Your personal data, Sex, Drugs, General techno havoc

Typical Member
HD 2  AC Medium  Weapon Medium Pistol 1d8
Move 12  Int 14  Moral 5
*Headdrive augment


Dead Boys
Some grow bored with life and turn to drugs and alcohol. I sure do. It works. BUT there are some that crave more. They crave thrills, excitement; near death experiences and glimpses of the Otherside. They don't wanna die outright or permanently, they just want to see That Which is Kept From Us and Unknowable. And what good is knowledge if your dead-dead? To that end they install Jump Start units near their heart. These are expensive. They don't care. They'll probably be dead before it gets repossessed.

When reduced to Dead, perform a Con check. On failure, the Dead Boy stays dead. On success, the Dead Boy regains 1/3 of their overall HP. They'll be ecstatic and beside themselves with what they saw on the Otherside. They'll be neutral for a couple of rounds, before they remember the situation they're in.

Style: Cheetah print and chrome, Day of the Dead themes
Wants: Near death experiences to glimpse the Otherside

Typical Member
HD 2  AC Light  Weapon Light Pistol 1d6
Move 12  Int 10  Moral 5
*Jump Start augment

Maansiekes
Aweh, me bruh. Howzit? You tired of these doosbrein, no? I is. Listen, you want the best, you come see the Maansiekes, mos. We got booze, buttons, dagga, guns, and the dopest beats. You need a place to hide? We serve you breakfast in bed. You got a job? We'll do the skop, skiet en donner, like in the movies. As long as you got the money.

Maybe you want to join us, mos? Hey tjommie, skiet my een van jou pyle daar myne is skraal. Dankie. Okay, listen, to be Maansiekes - true Maansiekes - you need two things. One: hounding; attitude. You've got to be the meanest roofpoes on the street. You need to shoot first and kick ass. Second: You need style; aesthetics. This arm of yours, carbon fiber. Boring. You need gold plated, or hot pink. Something make you stand out. Something make them 'member you. You get these, then you come see the Maansiekes, we give you the Tests, see if you make the cut. And, oh yes, it will get weird.

Style: Zef, 
Wants: Honestly, who the hell knows. Just give them all the money and drugs you have on you and maybe they'll leave.

Typical Member
HD 3  AC Medium  Weapon Medium Pistol 1d8
Move 12  Int 10  Moral 10

Zealots of the Neon Lady
Life on the street in current day is beyond difficult. More so in the hell of 20XX. Double all that for an orphan. Scared and alone, wandering the neon lit streets, they sought out others like themselves, forming their own society in the hidden places of the busy streets. They traded with each other, with what little they had: food, clothing, and, most importantly, stories. Stories taken from stolen bibles and the occasional comicbook. From these the myth of the Neon Lady was formed, giving the children something to form a community around. Something to give them a purpose and meaning. 

Then, the children grew up. And the Church of the Neon Lady was formed.

Headquartered in what remains of Miami, they operate as a religious institute to the public, and as an armed force in more private matters. They over see both the homeless shelters and orphanages around the city. Their doctrines are ever evolving and their scholars, as they are, continuously seek the Truename of the Neon Lady, believing it will call her forth to end the decay of the world and restore it to it's former paradise.

Style: Catholic priests mixed with dia de los muertos body art, favoring bright neon coloring.
Wants: Help the needy, Give shelter to orphans, Find the Truename of the Neon Lady

Typical Member
HD 4  AC Heavy  Weapon Heavy Melee 1d12
Move 12  Int 10  Moral 7


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Character Sheet Attacking Critters

Because direct HP damage gets boring after a while.

Babel Mold
A dark, chalky mold, that smells slightly of rotten fish, growing in damp, dark places. Typically it grows sprawling across any porous surface, however when it takes to reproducing it grows in fragile nodules that, when disturbed, erupt in a cloud of spores. In most animals, these spores are harmless if inhaled. In animals with a speech ability, the spores infect the brain and creates a spontaneous case of aphasia. Should the PCs be foolish enough to walk through it, have them Save vs Disease. Failure causes their known language(s) to be replaced with "Babble" until cured.

Torri Meddwl
Often called "Brain Fucklers" by the uneducated, the creatures resemble slimy humanoid brains with four probing barbed tentacles. Upon a successful touch attack, the creatures cloud the mind, essentially rending a Lore Bid from their targets current pool. These bids can be restored as normal. Should no Bid remain, the attacks become physical.


     1HD
     Armor: Touch
     Damage: Special, or Barb 1d4

This guy gets it.
Red Crowned Torri Meddwl
No one is quite sure who named these, or why they named them as they did, as the pattern around their crown is blue. They typically grow to twice the size of their smaller cousins, however are a particular threat to spell casters, as each successful touch attack consumes a spell slot, chosen at random. Should a prepared spell have occupied that slot, there is a 1-in-6 chance the Torri will cast the spell. Spell slots are restored as normal, and the attack becomes physical should none remain to be sapped.

     3HD
     Armor: Leather
     Damage: Special, or Barb 1d6

Queen Torri Meddwl
The biggest bitch in the brood, her abilities attack the victim's memory directly. In this context, that means the game notes. Yeah, the things you write on the back side of the character sheet. Upon a successful attack, hand them over to the white-out equipped GM, who will then remove 1d8 words "randomly." Don't look at me, I use my brain meat to remember things; straight physical damage for me.

     3HD+1
     Armor: Leather
     Damage: Special, or Barb 2d4

Bog Cat
So Majestic
With the body of a jaguar and the head of a handsome ginger with glowing blue eyes, the Bog Cat lurks in swamps and the namesake bogs, awaiting wayward adventures. Upon encountering any that may cross his path, it'll offer games of trivia in exchange for fabulous prizes. It's probably a magic item. Or a freshly killed swamp deer. Either way, should the adventurers accept the challenge and lose, the Bog Cat will eat their name, causing everyone and everything to forget it.

The Bog Cat abhors violence and will slink off effortlessly into the trees, should it be attacked. 

     3HD+1
     Armor: Chain+1
     Damage: Special, or Claw Swipe 1d8

<Name Sidebar> 
Names don't heal on their own, as they're not simply a thing you call yourself; those would be titles. Names are the manifestation of the bonds you form in world. When you were born, your parents loved you enough to name you after a great hero. Your schoolmates hated you to the point of giving you a nickname based on a bodily function. Sharing an intimacy with your partner as generated pet names between the two of you. To have your Name eaten is effectively to have those bonds eaten.

While it can't be healed, you may be able to get it back. This would take some major convincing on your part, as the Bog Cat is reluctant to regurgitate it's food. How trashy. And that is, of course, assuming you can find the correct one a second time.

It should be noted that Names are not the same as True Names, and that mortals do not have True Names. Also, the name/title thing is the opposite for the Fey. But those are topics for other sidebars. 
</Name Sidebar>


Eald Wiht
In a darker time, a cruel wizard performed horrendous experiments that involved literally sucking the years of life out of his victims, in an attempt to obtain immortality.  He, himself, probably became a lich; they usually do. His victims, on the other hand, became corpses. However, still charged with the dark arcane energies, the corpses soon arose once more, and now lurk in the dungeons of the ruined tower. Confused by their premature aging, the corpses will lash out at anyone foolish enough to enter their entrapment with their burning cold hands, seeking to sap the remaining years from their bodies. As you can imagine, it REALLY hurts. 

     3HD
     Armor: Touch-1 
     Damage: Adds 1d6 onto the age of the character. 

Aufhocker
Strange, shape-shifting spirits that often take the form of small animals or, on occasion, short humanoids - most often a dog or elderly woman. It waits quietly at crossroads, on watch for any lone traveller or small group of rubes (i.e. the PCs). It offers no hostility until gaining their trust, at which point it leaps on to one of their backs, grabbing on tightly. Once grappled, the Aufhocker increases the victims encumbrance level by one every round (light to medium to heavily) or by 1d4 if point buy. Once the victim is immobilized, the spirit begins to consume it's prize.

     2HD
     Armor: Chain
     Damage: Encumbrance rating

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Gorcrows



A Legends of Asgard staple I am looting from our database for my own cruel purposes.

Gorcrow

Imagine a crow - your standard crow, we don't need to get fancy. Now, picture it the size of a dog. You got it? Not the thing you wanna find in the woods while alone, is it?

Great. Remove the feathers and skin from the skull, thickening the skull a bit; liberally apply mange and open sores across the whole of it. Don't forget parasites. There we are.

I suppose "vulture sized crow" would have saved us all time.

These bastards have the intelligence and a penchant for stealing things of normal crows, combined with a cruel intention and a desire to ruin your day. Typically found in groups (a premeditation) of 2+1d4 among the tree tops of the spookier forests, waiting for the opportunity to prey on an inconvenienced traveler. They smell of moist, rotting meat. They taste of skin flakes, old dust, and parasites. They feel as you would expect. Their cry is a cross between a 'caw' and solid anxiety ground into a powder.

2 HD
Armor: Touch 

Special:
   * If It Ain't Nailed Down - On a successful attack, instead of applying damage the Gorcrow snatches one randomly rolled item not with in the target's pack. It then proceeds to fly off with it, probably back to a nest (...gornest?). 
   * Cannonball! - Should no one have items outside their pack, or sometimes as an opening move, a gorcrow will drop from the sky, diving down directly into a target. Said target gets a Save vs Falling on their ass, spilling the contents of their pack in the process. These newly exposed items are prime targets for the other gorcrows. 


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Gran' Paw, what's a dragon?



"Dragon?" Who done taught you that word, y' dang Turnip Head? Let me guess, they also done told you they was a form of thunder lizard, sorted based on the color of their scales. Well. they were right, to a point, but they were also egregiously wrong. Dragons, or a dreki as my grand-sire's grand-sire called 'em, are large and lizard like, but they ain't born that way, nor are their temperament a consequence of their scale coloring, y' kin?

See, they don't start out as no egg, but rather a man, kin to the likes of you or me. Now, we all gots our vices, true enough, but them there dreki-kin (see it was a consonant gradati--oh, shoot, nevermind, you ain't got the head for wording, Turnip), when they was man, loved their vices. Took to 'em more than was healthy like. Imagine them pinnacle of virtue's the preacher man's always telling y' about, then apply 'em to the vices he warns you against. Thems were they folk.

Lowest of the low, y' kin? You ain't gonna be finding the average, or even above average, hooch- nor whore-monger shrugging outta their skins and leaving what few villages we have for the seclusion of the hills.

Now, for whichever reason - I ain't the preacher, ask him - these folks became altered by their chosen evil. Corrupted. Twisted. And depending on the vice sacked up inside 'em, that's what led to the style of dragon. From there, their coloration is dependent upon the environment that they take to holdin' up in, and the diet they take to there. Much like those one legged birds down on the southron shores.

Now, here's what we've got to knowing about each of the sorts, based on a codex I seen in the city a long spell ago. They all take to having a fairly similar shape: monitor lizards heightened to draft horse stature, with the skin of a gator. Though, the older they get the bigger they get, mind y', and I've heard tell truly old ones bear wings, but, honestly, that sounds made up. Their claws do damage as though a Standard Weapon, their bite tends to be equal to a Great Weapon.

Yeah, that's the one.

Most of these tend to be one form of avarice or another, but preacher man swears they're different:

Envy
Magics a talent, and with so few of us left, a very few are able to master it. Like boat building, for them shipwrights of old, 'fore they all were called back to the old world. Understandibly, there are them that covet the ability for magicfying when they lack it. The worst of 'em take to hoarding any and all petty magics - scrolls, grimoirs, and like. Major magics too, don't rule them out. They can't use 'em, but boy do they like looking at 'em.

When the Vice finally takes them, they're known to be able to smell magic - from the spells in a magician's head, to the fetishes carried by a wizard. Their very breath is said to cause Maleficence upon them caught within it.

8 HD
Armor: Chain 
Special: 
   * Smell Magic - The dragon can smell magic upon a creature, or within a place, out to 50'
   * Chaotic Breath - target must Save vs Breath, else roll upon the Maleficence table, suffering the effects
   * Steal Spell - Any castin' sort that comes in physical contact with the beast looses a portion of their magics. Whether it be a prepared spell, free slot, some magic points, or whichever your system hankers to, they're gone until refreshed as normal. 

Greed
Thems the ones for hording gold and other material wealth. We all needs a bit of coin now and again, but there are them that are never happy and crave it more than anything. Some even take to killing for it. It's that final murder that tends to do it. Either way, given their propensity to lounge upon their amassed wealth - better to guard, y' kin - their skin tends to stick with gems and coins. Makes them a bit harder to hurt. No doubt they can smell items of value on y'.

8 HD
Armor: Chain + 1
Special:
   * Smell Riches - The dragon can smell items of significant value (50+ of money standard) within 50'. The more expensive it is, the better it smells. 
   *  Increasing Hoard - Once per 1d4 rounds, when within 50' of the beast, a random item from the party vanishes from their possession and appears in the collected hoard 

Gluttony
These are the ones that tend to ravage the country side, consuming everything they come across: livestock, trees, houses, coal piles, and so on. The land around their lairs tends to be stripped and left barren. Their lairs themselves are little more than shafts of consumed earth, serving as den and midden. Following 'em, should you have the strange notion, is fairly easy t'do as their swollen bellies drag along, leaving a track.

8HD
Armor: Chain
Special: 
   * Rending Bite - Any bite attack made by the dragon that is blocked by armor, but still touches the target, does half damage to the target's armor instead. Armor damaged in this way has a lower AC rating until repaired. Should the AC drop to touch value, the armor is destroyed.
   * I've Eaten Worse - Anything that finds it's way into the dragon's mouth does no further damage to the beast. Poison, fire, pointy bits; all are consumable to it. 
   * Vomit - The beast can expel the contents of it's stomach, burning anyone caught within the deluge as if acid. 

Lust
Thems be the ones kidnapin' all those princesses in the stories. Y' see, when a man and a woman...that is t'say, you're at the age where you'll notice...no, I had to tell your pap 'bout your age, it's his turn to tell you. Pester him for this one.

8HD
Armor: Chain
Special: 
   * Pleasure or Pain - As the sublimating azure breath washes over the target, the target is given a choice. Either take the damage to HP or accept the effects of Hold Person (no save). 
   * Obsession  - The spit of the beast is laced with a powerful chemical that makes any touched by it feel an uncontrollable longing for their greatest desire. If'n they don't have one, one may be provided for them. 

Pride
Them there one that take to riddling and yammering on 'cause they thing they're better'n you? Thems the pride ones. They're magnificent and they'll make sure you know it. Their scales are shinier, their voices are a rich alto/bass.

8HD
Armor: Chain
Special:
   * No Higher Power - The beast is so devoid of humility that any, and all, divinely inspired abilities cease working within their presence.   
   * Pride Prevents the Fall - Any compliment paid to the beast - and it'll fish for 'em - will be "stored" and act as a shield, being sacrificed to prevent damage taken from a future attack. 

Sloth
More of the "acedia" sort, than the "lazy" sort. These are the ones that take to brooding in solitude. Doesn't sound much harm, sure, but they do it to the point where it gets to infecting the very land itself. Green, healthy forests turn to black, dying woods forever choked in an unmoving fog. Sparrows leave, replaced by overlarge bats. Gloom. Doom. You're gettin' the picture.

8HD
Armor: Leather
Special:
   * Invasive Thoughts - Anyone the dragon is aware of tends to be plagued by invasive thoughts of failure, unable to act. All affected by these thoughts must save versus Magic every round. Those that fail will attempt to harm themselves to the best of their abilities. Poisons, cliffs, nooses; anything convenient. Probably most convient'll be the very weapons they're holding, autohitting themselves. All affected characters (still standing) must save successfully for the Thoughts to end. 
   * Slowing Touch - Anyone struck by the dragon must save vs Paralyze, or suffer a level of encumbrance and the effects that come with it. Effect lasts until a long rest.  



Wrath
Thems the sort that go around breathing fire on everything. Theirs eyes literally burn with hatred, glowing as embers. Smoke constantly billows from their nostrils, and their scales are scorched, covered in soot and melted metal. You'll feel their heat long before you ever see 'em. Should you ever find a cave glowing with heat and surrounded by scorched earth, you'll probably be wanting to leave, as it'll most like be a den of wrath.

8HD
Armor: Plate + 1
Special:
   * Fire Proof - As living furnaces, they ain't inclined to be burned themselves.
   * Torrent of Flame - If'n you hear 'em start to suck in a deep breath, you'll be wanting to get out from in front of them, as they're about to breath out a 40' worth of flame. Not just normal flame, mind you. It's hot. Damn hot. Any one dumb enough to be caught in it while in metal armor will be burnt the next 1d4 rounds for 1d6 each.
   * Blind Anger - For whichever reason, should the beast's Intelligence be damaged (spell or what not), it's Constitution increases by that much damage. Should it's Wisdom be affected, it's Strength is adjusted. 


So why slay these creatures?

Because it's doin' a kindness to the poor souls trapped within, Turnip Head. Also, there's some that take to the fame and glory of it. And the loot. There's also a rumor that cooking and eating the heart will get y' strange knowings and doings. It's probably true.

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The Stones of Teufel

Lately, I've been thinking about the meaningless of reality. About the unstoppable march of entropy leading to the eventual heat death of the universe. About how void life is of meaning; the uselessness of effort.

I've also been thinking of demons, wizards, dogs and runes. Two of these I'll jam together. The other two, I'll hold for later. Let's see what the hell I'm up to:

The Stones of Teufel


Runes carved on to stones have been used for divination since magic came to the northern lands. Place them in a sack, think about your question and draw. Knowledge can then be gleaned from the results. Basic stuff that everyone knows.

However, there was one wizard who saw this as nothing more than random chance. He sought more in his divination rituals; he sought certainty. He sought knowledge unknowable. In his madness he carved the runes and inked them in his own blood. Then, from the gap beyond physical space, he drew forth twenty four shapeless consciousnesses, and bound them to the stones.

For this his name should have been remembered for all time. Instead, due to what happened next, his name has been burned from the history books. Cursed and forgotten.

The stones - or rather the consciousnesses bound to them - given form in this reality did indeed provide the accurate divination the wizard so craved, but in doing so began to learn. Began to grow.
Within the decade, the entities on the rune stones gained true sentience and with it, free will.

The stones whispered out to those nearest the wizard, tempting them into stealing the stones, and taking the stones for themselves. Promises of power, appeals of lust, or brute mental assault; these were the lures used, and, in time, the stones were stolen. Once claimed, however, the thieves found themselves patsies to, and now hosts of, the entities bound within. Through these hosts, the entities were able to take full physical manifestations.

Now calling themselves the Teufel (or "Demons" by the peasantry, as they spit and make several warding gestures), they sought nothing more than to sew fear and destruction through out the ages. Some formed cults, others played games of chess with city-states as pawns. Still others turned the weak minded into murderous psychopaths. Several groups have risen to defend against them, yet all eventually fall, the stones they took possession of returning to circulation.

Interestingly, should conflict arise between the Teufel, lines seem to be drawn along aett membership.

Listed below is overview information on the Teufel. More indepth information on each to follow as warranted. They are known to have three physical forms: that of the host, that of the Tuefel in full, and a hybrid of the two forms. While in hybrid or true form, a mark of the Teufel's rune burns dully on their skin. While the rune names are used for individual Teufel when needed, feel free to create your own by mashing the keyboard randomly, then adding random apostrophes - because fantasy names.

A smarter man would have shortened this list by aetts. I've started this and stopped, several times, overwhelmed by the amount of work I've bit off. I've learned a lot about production management and setting timing goals in writing this thing. Or, rather, I've encountered these problems. It is likely I've learned nothing from this.

Rune
   A humanoid with multisegmented legs, matted rusty fur hiding rows of barbs, an over broad head bound in a carapace and flesh with a mouth poorly stretched around two mandibles, dripping a foul viscus fluid, and two burning green eyes. Hosts tend to be wealthy individuals, whether suddenly or old money. In both host form and teufel form, any treasure given out freely is cursed. Holder of the treasure should make a Save vs Magic per hour, until the curse is triggered. Once the curse has been triggered, the treasure is no longer cursed.

Rune
   The beasts stands a foot or more higher than the host, bearing the legs and head of an ox, though the chest of human, matted in thick fur. Onyx horns grow from the side of the head, tipped in gold. Its eyes, nose and mouth constantly drip blood. The host enjoys significant increased (+4) physical attributes, significant lowered (-4) mental attributes and the ability to perform bull rush attacks. They also gain a lust for brutality.

   In an ancient age, the Mad King Tryggvason received the uruz stone as a coronation gift. Where his father's reign was known as a time of peace, his is noted for the violence and suffering forced onto the kingdom by the king. Myth states he built a hidden maze under the capital city, in which he hunted humans for sport.

Rune
   A hulking, hunched over, blue thick-scaled reptilian humanoid monstrosity, armed with five inch claws on each finger. Lighting arcs across the beast's body, occasionally leaping to near by things, allowing the host and demon to apply electrical damage to their attacks. Externally sourced electricity tends to provide healing. The host also gains a controlled and moderately uncontrollable (save based, when angered) ability to enter a Rage state.

   There is a  tale of an old man that stalks the ruins through out the Pass of the Thunder King seemingly searching for something. The old man, if encountered, will offer hospitality, but inevitably grow short in temper, casting the adventurers back out in the harsh weather of the pass. In short order, the old man summons a hulking beast and a monstrous storm to hunt down those who provided the offense. None are known to have escaped the beast. So...how do these stories get back to be told? Same way they always do.

Rune
   A speaker of honeyed words (a constant charm effect), the host form tends to have the ear of a king, general or other person of power. The transformation to teufel form involves the peeling of skin and sickening shifting of bone. The head elongates and sprouts four extra eyes, the hair melding into fleshy tendrils. Along the body further tendrils sprout. Each of these flesh stalks - including the tongue in the skull - split open on the tip, revealing a mouth. As the beast moves, the mouths whisper  secrets and taunts; lies and truths.

Rune
   The monstrosity appears as the host, but with six extra arms growing from their abdomen, multi-jointed backwards; their legs merged together, bending the wrong way around into a crude stinger tail, tipped by bone spikes generated from their feet. They crawl on their backs, neck twisted 180 degrees. Their lower jaw splits open, creating mandibles dripping with a thick green toxin. This toxin allows for a Poison attack via bite and stringer, which offers the standard Save vs Poison to resist, and causes paralysis and eventually death.

   Centuries ago, the beast ravaged a countryside, poisoning the fields and water, praying upon livestock and peasants alike. Farms were razed, meadhalls abandoned. A passing band of gallowglass heard of the destruction and sought the beast out. What they found was a maddening cave of gore and horror. Quivering sacks of flesh, pools of poison, shifting caverns that doubled back on themselves and, at the center of it all, the beast. Before confronting the monster, the leader of the men sent the survivors to find their fallen alchemist's supplies and, as he distracted the creature, bring the cave entrance down. Neither were seen again, though the land remains uninhabitable.

Rune
   Walking upon festering, cracked hoof legs; wearing thin stretched yellowy skin over a lithe frame; and having a horse skull for a head, Kaunan is the Plague that Walks. Where he walks ruin follows. Plants wilt and die, milk curdles in the teat, livestock begin to rot while still alive, peasants grow festering wounds.  Standing ten feet tall, it is capable of belching forth a cloud of disease (once per hour; 20ft radius; Save vs Poison) as well as imbuing arrows with plague (as Apollo from Greek myth; 3/day).

   Centuries ago, a strange sickness befell the small village of Krankheit. One in every three fell sick. The king, in his grace, sent his very own physician. Arriving in customary plague garb - bird mask, brim hat, overlong robe - the physician took the old town meeting building as his ward. At first, it seemed relief had finally arrived to the town. Yet, despite the efforts of the plague doctor, the plague grew worse. Or, rather, it simply grew. It spread to the live stock, the plants, the very ground. A purple, spore releasing weed slowly grew from the town hall.  And then, most disturbingly, the dead began to walk. The mass graves emptied themselves, the newly deceased rose from their sick beds. In fear, the people sought out the doctor. What they found in his stead, however, was the Kaunan tuefel.

  A sole survivor was found miles from the town, suffering and in pain. Based on the account he relayed, the king ordered a wall built around the town. Since then, the wall has been guarded by the kingsmen, and expanded out of necessity twice - to attempt to hold off the spread of the strange weed. The tuefel has not been seen since, but no one has had the steel will to journey into the town to check.

Rune
   In teufel form Gebo appears as a figure covered in pink, wet, burned-healed flesh, lacking hair, eyelids, nose, ears and nails. On occasion the skin can be seen to squirm of it's own accord. Other times - the bad times - the skin can be seen to peel away from the body in strips, exposing the leaking flesh underneath, and lashing out as if tentacles. Further, should any weapon (missile) strike the sticky wet skin, the holder of said weapon makes a Save vs Paralysis/Resist Disarm, or have the item wrenched from their hands (missiles, obviously, do not get this save). The aforementioned skin tentacles can then easily weld these weapons.

Rune
   Unlike the transformation of the other teufel that usually involve the slow and subtle changing of features, the transformation for Wunjo involves the host literally vomiting their insides up, until the expelled quivering mass of flesh inhales the remains of the host, before solidifying into a lithe form with cloak like black molting wings for arms, and a horned raven head. Black, fermented ichor spills from its mouth as it speaks. Strange parasites crawl in and out of the feathers. Those that come in physical contact with the creature suffer from a hangover, though all within 30 feet find it hard to remember the encounter later.

Exposure to the ichor causes permanent memory loss.
Exposure to the parasites bestows (on a failed save) a blood borne disease that causes uncontrolled dancing.

Rune
   While most teufel forms are fairly consistent, Hagalaz's form alters based on the dead in the surrounding area, as they crawl from their resting spot and join the collective form. Due to this, Hagalaz is typically composed of animals, however in urban areas it tends to be more humanoid form. Which ever form it takes, Hagalaz carries the ability to bestow unlife onto corpses around them, from zombie to bone golem  when fresh bodies are hard to find. Often works in conjunction with Kaunan.

Rune
   A creature of pure, twisting shadow, Naudiz is rarely encountered directly. His power, however, when encountered, is rarely forgotten. The teufel is able to bend light and shadow to form the most believable illusions, showing the victim their greatest fears, pried from the depths of their very souls. So fine is its control over the illusions that it can show one adventurer an image of their mother peeling her own skin off before disemboweling herself while never losing her ever widening smile, whilst the rest of the party watches helplessly in imaginary chains as the original party member is swallowed whole by a (real??) flesh worm.

Rune
  Appearing as a Large, vaguely humanoid form of solid ice, save for the host trapped frozen within, Isaz is a slow moving force of nature.  Any water based substance that touches (including blood) freezes instantly, allowing for an increasing of mass and change in shape relatively easily. As an abomination of ice, fire does time and a half damage in both teufel and host form. Not exactly known for it's ability for independent thought, Isaz is often used as muscle in the plans of other teufel. The host is given little consideration.

Rune
   On first sight, Jera appears to be the host from the waist up, and a large, swollen locust from the waist down. Though, on a closer, more awful, second look, they're revealed to be entirely composed of locusts, of various size and colors, squirming and crawling over one another. At will, the teufel can explode into a swarm and control said swarm with full proficiency, and can strip a corpse of all flesh in mere moments. When in this state, Jera attacks as though a breath weapon (save or be bit for 1d8), and can only be damaged by area effects.

Rune
   Often confused for a Bla-Maor of the southern Highsunlands by the untraveled peasantry, Ihwaz appears as a bald, muscular, figure standing seven feet tall with deep obsidian skin and glowing red eyes. It rarely speaks, and prefers being hosted by mutes, but when it does it speaks in a voice as deep as stone slap sliding over burial vaults. Ihwaz grants the ability to cast and read the runes with complete accuracy, however all divinations are grim and of ill portent. Consider it a Bestow Curse [Pretty Fucked] if you're needing more detailed mechanics.

Rune
   Appearing as a floating sack of flesh with a subliming form and trailing, elongated arms, the body doted with a plurality of eyes, and a maw lined with needle teeth, Pertho allows the host to summon spirits of the dead, and compel them to speak. With this ability, the teufel has formed many cults through out the ages, tempting the followers with ability to speak to lost ones once more.

Rune
   Standing a noble seven feet tall, Algiz appears as a humanoid covered in short brown fur with a deer's head, the antlers of which are shedding and bloody. A flame burns eternal between the antlers, yet produces no heat and only the faintest of light. Those posessed by it gain access to magical abilities  and arcane knowledge (+3 level). They also gain the desire to wear nothing but fine magical robes.

   Little is known of Algiz, as it prefers to work behind the scenes, in support of other teufel plots.

Rune
   The host's hair burns away as scales erupt from their skin, their legs elongating and forming a twelve foot tail. The eyes are completely replaced with fire. A ridge of bony spines runs from the base of the neck to the tip of the serpentine tail. The upper torso, besides the scales and spines remains mostly the same. Anything the teufel touches takes fire damage; parchment burns, metal heats up hot enough to brand, leather...does whatever leather does when heated. Smells delicious? Weakens it, surely. Further more the teufel is immune to said fire, and even has some control over nearby fire sources (as thematically appropriate). The cold, however, strikes at his heart doing damage and a half again.

   Some scribes attest that the burning of the Knowledgehoard of Wissenstadt - famed for being the largest collection of human works of art, literature and research - to a failed attempt by the Brothers of the Sworn at exercising a pyromancer bound to sowilo, in order to imprison the teufel and secure the stone. Along with hundreds of lives, many rare secrets were lost that night, as the collections of scrolls and codices provided fuel for the raging fires.

Rune
   Ill doom falls upon the community in which Tiwaz takes residence. Magic falters, artisans lose their passion, the common folk become disinterested in their various duties. Continued contact with the teufel imposes cumulative penalties to Mental attributes as minds dull, communication becomes difficult, cleverness is lost (only restored via Remove Curse).  As the small folk don't tend to be strong in the mental functions, towns soon devolve into roaming hordes of angry, grunting thugs.
 
   In transformation, the hosts body twists like a washrag, with all of their limbs splitting in two, gaining length and ending in spikes. Despite being elongated and wrapped around its head, the teufel suffers no hindrance in sight or speech.

Rune
   While the host is always a striking lovely young woman, the teufel appears with a broad, eight-eyed, four mandible mouth full of barbs, on an eight limbed body. The four limbs not shared by the host end in the needle sharp points, and gore webs between each of the limbs.
   In host form, it fully understands the power its physical attributes carry, and will use them in full to carry out its plans. In teufel form, it is fond of lounging in a web of arms and tormenting victims trapped in cocoons of flesh, through injecting them with venom and slowly, agonizingly melting their insides to eventually be drank.
   While rare, on occasion the host can become pregnant. When carried to full term and excreted from her flesh womb, the spawn almost always come out wrong. Too short limbs, tails, tiny horns - all possible deformities. There has only ever been one to come out perfect and passable for human, and he is her Favorite.

   Should she ever find herself in dire straits and at least one of her less favorite children be alive in the world, she need only climb into her armweb, which can then fold in on itself, smaller and smaller, into a singularity. The armweb, and her, will then erupt violently from the offspring, killing it and making a general mess of the area.

Rune
    Gifts the host with extreme speed, but also curses them with a short temper and the ability to be summoned by Mannaz. When in demon form, the host's skin splits and peels away as Ehwaz crawls out, a skeletal horse with eight legs and constantly on fire (has resistances like skeletons). Burning hoof prints mark the ground upon which it walks. Fire belches forth from the bone jaws (Breath Attack, every 1d4 rounds).

   When mounted by Mannaz, Ehwaz gains several additional abilities. Fire solidifies into armor on the skeletal flanks, burning any whom might touch it (save Mannaz) and providing protection. Bull like goring horns burst forth from the horse skull, allowing for an additional attack. Liquid fire drools from the mouth of the horse.

Rune
   Appearing as the host, but with rotten and decaying skin, blood maggots swimming in and out of the flesh. Mannaz, however, when in teufel form, prefers to don bone plate armor over its horrific visage - the suit always having a helm of a human skull fused with ram horns. The teufel bears attack progression as a fighter, and when in the bone plate can sacrifice pieces to force the opponent to reroll damage. On a critical hit, Mannaz has a chance of stealing a bone from the target and replacing the missing piece (through a failed Save vs Magic, obviously). When pieces are missing, however, he gains the ability to attack using the blood maggots, which very much want to burrow into the heart of whom ever they land on. Failed save victims have 1d3+2 rounds before the maggots get to the heart to drink up all the blood within.

Rune
   The head of the host takes the form of a cephalopod with over large eyes and ten tentacles, two of which are three times as long as the rest, encircling a barbed filled mouth, that constantly oozes a thick viscus substance. The body is covered in chromatophores allowing for a Skilled blending into the environment (5-in-6). When in a panic, Laguz can expel a thick cloud of nauseating ink, that both blinds and hinders it's opponents. Further, while uncomfortable, the host has the ability to breathe underwater.

   While not known for one specific event, Laguz tends to take a pleasure in hired killing, considering it a form of art. Perhaps the truest form. Hosts tend to be already skilled assassins. The last known host was rumored to be Longshot Cecil, a member of the Rocktown Assassin's Guild.

Rune
   A bloated, hulking, malformed toad of a thing standing ten feet tall, with gelatinous rolls of fat, hunched shoulders, and pale sickly skin constantly dripping with mucus. A neckless head bears a hinged bullfrog mouth full of needle teeth that is capable of swallowing a small calf whole and two eyes larger than melons. What makes Ingwaz truly terrible, however, are the pox marks covering its back. Evidence of the thinly scab sealed puss sacks underneath it, each mark is an exit point for a one inch, plump, tendriled worm, which, when introduced into the cranial cavity of a host, proceeds to grow its tendrils into the nerves of the host, soon gaining control over them.

Rune
   Appearing as an androgynous humanoid with alabaster skin and a face void of features, save for a ring of cataract filled, lazy dead eyes that encircle the head. While the eyes are physically incapacitated, they offer the host/teufel normal vision in 360 degrees, albeit colorless. Although Othila floats a couple feet off the ground, as touching said ground would sully Othila, it lacks actual capacity for flight. In the rare instance it chooses to speak, it's shrill voice seems to come from within the listener's head.
   While playing host to this stone, the host gains a wealth of arcane and forgotten knowledge, though lucidity may be an issue.

   In the times when prophecy and divination come in fashion, one may find the Brothers of the Poisoned Eye lurking in major cities. Appearing as a social club, they are actually a cult in service to Othila, worshiping it as a deity and, in exchange for their devotion, the teufel teaches the followers the art of divination.

Rune
   A figure of pure light, Dagaz offers the host the ability to see into other realities, even though the way be traditionally blocked. From this the host can glean knowledge of people they couldn't otherwise have, using this (giving bonuses) to persuade or intimidate the target. This ability may also be weaponized. On a successful touch, and failed save by the target, the target is filled with glimpses of other realities. Visions of their infinite failures and uncountable insignificance flood the mind of the target, staggering/stunning them for 1d3 rounds. On a critical and failed save, the target is driven to suicide because, after all, what does it matter? What does anything matter?

Variants 


While I'm personally against its usage, if you're of lesser moral character, you could use the blank stone:

Rune:
   While not actually a rune stone, some sets of lesser integrity hold a blank stone to represent the unknown or unforeseeable. While this seems in contrast to the nature of a divination tool, the set used all those centuries ago contained one. Through dual slit irises, its eyes glow softly with the color of void. Its voice echos with the sounds of burning suns and existential probability. This teufel has only ever had one host, who, upon binding the other teufels to stone, set out to burn his name from existence. In his presence probability and chances tend to alter. Sure Things tend to become Far Shots, and One in a Million Chances happen Nine Times Out of Ten.

Another potential variation is instead of voluntary possession caused by whispered temptations, the stones act as Magic Jars, forcing the hosts out of their bodies and trapping within the stones. How awful would it be to watch the hulking horror melt into an ectoplasm covered old man, who proceeds to vomit up a strange stone, just as the tank screams in pain and begins arcing lightning off themselves? Very much, that is how awful.

Originally, the thought was to have these demon bound to tarot cards, but then flavors and ideas changed. Using that idea is simple enough, however. The above demons are bound to the Major Arcana, while the Minor Arcana is host to minor demons without names. These minor demons provide bonuses to the host based on the card value (divided by 4, round up) and to the attribute represented by the suit.
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