[HMtW] The Grumpus (Blogwagon Holiday Special)

Another blogwagon time. This go around its a hex for a Christmas themed hexcrawl in the style of them old Rankin/Bass stop motion pictures outta the 60's. You know the one: young kid runs away from home because he's different from the others, meets various barely contained psychopaths, and returns years later to be accepted because the cruel taskmaster overlord needs to exploit him. A noble yeti is forced into domestication via violence. Something about a toy Vapula? Yeah, that's the one. That and it's eighteen sequels. 

Only trouble is, well, fuck this holiday. It's a miserable time of year when the corporations pump their propaganda on an already broke and breaking working class, guilting them into buying the over priced slop that no one needs. At one point, Saint Nicholas only gave to the needy; a good and proper thing to do. Nowadays, Santa Claus is a false idol in the worship of materialism. Buy that overpriced, easily broken, unrepairable, beeping, blinking, do nothing piece of plastic and precious metals that will sit in the remains of a landfill long after your carcass has crumbled to ash OR ELSE YOU HATE YOUR LOVED ONES. "Consume, you ignorant bastards, it's on sale!" They continue, having jacked the prices, only to cut them by a meager amount to make it look as if you're saving money. 

Fuck that. Fuck them. Fuck it. And the holiday they rode in on. Especially for making me agree with the Calvinists on this. 

"But Wayspell, the lights and decorations are so pretty. Everything is so happy and cheerful." I can't help you if you're going to intentionally blind yourself to the reality at large with glittering trinkets, like some sort of mutant magpie on hallucinogenics. I'd tell you to "put on the glasses" but that would make me Roddy Piper, you Keith David, and, well, my back already hurts. 

But, I didn't come here to go on and on about your shortcomings. I came here to tell you about - 

The Grumpus

Crossing the borders of this forested hex is a notable ordeal: whatever snow was falling, whatever whimsical song was playing in the background, whatever merry time was being had - ends. It all just ends. The snow stops falling, melting upon the ground. Background music goes from wintery bells bullshit to something more appropriate for Halloween. The trees are no longer beautiful pines, hearty and strong, but sad, cruel, twisted things, hunched over and bare of all needles. Ravens caw and mock just out of sight. A thin fog snakes along the ground, thick with malice, but intangible.

At the center of it all lies the homestead: a small cabin and accompanying garden. The garden is a small one, enough for only one person, though it contains several scarecrows wearing red fur coats. The cabin is a simple thing of wood and stone, adorned with wind chimes made from tinnies and antlers. There's most likely a small fire in the fire pit out front. A single, old, wooden chair sits there, partnered with a table for holding drinks and cigarettes. Honestly, the table is probably a telephone cable spool. Inside is mostly bare: A cot, a chair by the fireplace, a cooler for beer. More tinnies dot the floor. The room is awash in the soft glow coming from the noses of the reindeer whose heads are mounted along the walls. 

This is the home of the Grumpus. 

Standing seven foot tall, with eyebrows reaching to the brim of his hat paired with a wispy bearded to his knees, and clad in a shabby blue robe patched with red fur, a rough worn wizard hat, and the lingering smell of nicotine, the Grumpus* is a crushingly dour individual. He lives here, in the cabin, neither happy, nor fully alone; but in an empty acceptance of the bigfeet who call this hex home. If he knew how to make it a sanctuary for them, he would. But he don't. So he don't. Despite his demeanor, he fully respects guest rights, as long as those who intrude respect host rights. 

Now, what he does not respect - not in the slightest; not in a single modicum or even an atom of respect - perhaps better to say he outright reviles, is that villainous, revolting holiday known as Christmas. His malice towards this ever decadent holiday is to the point that he will offer to pay 500 gold for any Santa pelts brought to him. 

What's that? Oh, yes, there's plural Santa Clauses. That's why he (probably) keeps turning up in almost every hex. Plural nasal bioluminescent deer as well.

Thought I had time for art. I was wrong. Hopefully I'll fix this later.

The Grumpus

Man Strategist

A former wizard adventurer turned hermit, the Grumpus carries no patience or joy for things deemed "cheery" or "jolly." He resides alone, save for the occasional visit from the near by bigfoot tribe, and prefers it this way. While retired, he still carries his archwood staff, mostly out of habit, slightly out of necessity for walking in his old age. Not that he'll admit it. 

Health/Defense: 3 / 4

Attributes: Swords 1 | Pentacles 3 | Cups 4 | Wands 7

Likes: Bigfoots, Being alone, the Mari Lwyd (strangely)

Hates: Christmas, Santa Clauses

Notes: 

* Heavy Metal Christmas - His beard counts as a Shield, for the purpose of Defense.

* The Night Santa Went Crazy - IF violence does break out, he's attacking the jolliest looking motherfucker first. 

Lesser Dooms

* Drinking Up Christmas - Heals a Wound by chugging a beer as a Miscellaneous action. Dude can carry a full sixer in his robe.

* It's Not Christmas Until Someone Cries - Using the Staff as a focus, the Grumpus can make attack Attack actions of arcane energy up to one zone away. He adds is Wands attribute, rather than Swords, to these Attacks on his turn. He is never engaged by using this ability. 

* Merry Christmas (I Don't Wanna Fight Tonight) - Seemingly having a mind of its own, the Grumpus can wiggle his beard, lashing out in surprising ways. He may perform Roughhouse actions using his beard. 

Greater Dooms

* There Ain't No Sanity Clause - While holding the staff, the Grumpus can cast any Weald spell from Appendix A without components. Also the Welkin spells Binding and Life, for some reason. Cast spells by playing a lesser doom Speak Invocations actions and discarding a greater doom card to cover Resolve cost. Each additional greater doom card discarded adds +1 Resolve. 

If you're cold, they're cold. Let them in.

Mari Lwyd

Unique Spirit

The Grey Mare, a grim yet festive personification of winter. Appearing as a skeletal horse with glowing, wrapped in a cloak of spectral mist and wearing festive ribbon and bows, the Mari Lwyd wanders from home to home, spreading cheer in the form of screaming rhymes at each other and consuming all the booze in the house and chasing people.

Health/Defense: -

Attributes: Swords - | Pentacles - | Cups - | Wands - 

Likes: Singing Rhymes, Booze, Chasing people

Dislikes: Teatotalers, Sobriety

Notes:

* Put the Cards Away - You won't need them, we're trying something a little different here. 

* Pwnco - When the Mari Lwyd appears, it demands booze from the party in the form of a rhyming couplet or insult. Should the party fail to respond in kind with a witty excuse as to why they cannot provide wanted booze, the Mari Lwyd inflicts damage against the part in the form of consuming all the booze within their inventory. Should the party have no booze in their collective inventory, then it consumes half of all rations. Should there be no rations within the party, it inflicts one Wound to everyone and leaves. IF the party manages to outwit the Mari Lwyd, it cackles wildly and runs off, leaving behind twenty inventory slots of alcohol. 

The Meatgrinder

01. Torches/Spells Gutter

02. Torches/Spells Gutter

03. Torches/Spells Gutter

04. Torches/Spells Gutter

05. Torches/Spells Gutter

06. [Curiosity] A mournful cry of something intelligent, but not human, echoes through the forest.

07. [Curiosity] What looks to be a poorly made lean-to sits forgotten beside a fallen tree. 

08. [Curiosity] The mixed smell of spiced cider and wet moss drifts on the wind. 

09. [Curiosity] A skeleton in a faded red coat lays impaled upon a twisted wooden spike, several feet taller than expected. Smaller spikes dot the area, hidden in the underbrush.

10. [Curiosity] Muddy ground still holds massive, human-like footprints, well over 15 inches long.

11. [Travel Event] Lashing out from the debris littered ground, a snaggle vine wraps around the leg of the final adventure of the marching order, Rooting them. The more they struggle, the tighter it squeezes. 

12. [Travel Event] The mist moves in tight around the characters, obfuscating the path. A Disadvantaged Cups test is needed to keep from getting lost.  

13. [Travel Event] In the distance, a ways through the dark, a red glowing light blinks slowly. Anyone approaching the glowing reindeer nose must make a Pentacles test or get caught in snare traps, dragging them up into the tree branches.

14. [Travel Event] Laying on a rock, pretty as you please, is a golden triangular coin. Free gold! Score! (Well, actually, the coin is cursed and if it's picked up, the carrier is Stressed by strange voices as long as they carry it.) 

15. [Travel Event] During a brief rest, a tear in an adventurer's pack is discovered. The item in the last inventory slot(s) has fallen out and is now missing. Taking the time to backtrack and scout for it causes another Meatgrinder check. 

16. [Random Encounter] Three imps make silly faces at one another, using the shiny breastplate of a long dead knight as a mirror. 

17. [Random Encounter] Nestled among the withering trees, a premeditation of Gorcrows watch the adventures, following along and looking for their time to strike.

18. [Random Encounter] Wandering leisurely through the forest, a troop of bigfeet will begin throwing stones and other debris, should they notice the adventures.  

19. [Random Encounter] Escorted by an entourage of corpse lights, the Mari Lwyd cuts through the thick fog, eyes aglow and set on the party's food and drink.

20. [Random Encounter] Weaving through the misty forest, the Grumpus keeps watch for that villain Santa Claus. 

21. [Quest Rumor] 

---------

* His real name is Percival Cromwell of House Humburg

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[HMtW] Hilbert Whales and the Tools Used to Harvest Them

Hilbert Whales

Beast Dungeon Lord

Descending from higher Euclidean n-spaces to feed, the Hilbert Whale is a native to the Flesh realm, just a different geometric part of it. Long ago gams* of Hilbert Whales were seen traveling the astral space on a regular basis, but once Wizards learned of the powerful astrogris and stochastaceti all up in their guts, the numbers dwindled from constant harvesting without time allowed for the numbers to repopulate.

Attributes: Swords 8 | Pentacles 0 | Cups 2 | Wands 2

Likes: 8D Krill, the echoing songs off of Minerva Cascade

Hates: Harpoons, Lances, Whalers

Special Rules

• The Whale itself is a big ass creature, consisting of several zones unto itself, each an antagonist: Head, Tail, Body, Left Tentacle Node, Right Tentacle Node.

• Each zone has lesser and greater dooms associated with it. If a particular  zone is disabled, entangled, or defeated, it can no longer use those abilities. 

• Despite having separate pools of HD for each section, Whales have only a single Initiative.

Head

Health/Defense: 4/6

Frontal part with all the thinking bits, hard cranial shell for ramming, and big bitey bites for chomping. If this part is defeated, it is Blind.

Lesser Dooms

• Bite: Usually a filter feeder, it’ll still bite the shit out of you. Doing a big chomp, it makes an Attack and Roots the target on a success, until it opens its mouth again. 

Greater Dooms

• Bile Attack: Feeding on linear causality, it can regurgitate its recent meal as chaos. Forces everyone within a zone to draw from a random maleficence table.

• Swallow: Any foes currently being Bit may be Swallowed. The victim is held in an extra dimensional space composed of higher geometries, until they fall into the whale's stomach. Killing the whale causes it to automatically barf up all swallowed creatures.

• Victims can use the Test Fate actions to test Swords while swallowed. 
• If they succeed 3 times, they make the whale vomit them up. 
• If they fail 3 times, they fall into the whale's stomach and are annihilated. 
• Greater outcomes count as 2 outcomes for free/annihilated purposes.
• Smart ideas may cause the whale to barf up all swallowed creatures.

Left/Right tentacle clusters

Health/Defense: 5/0 (each)

Typically used for feeding, they can also be used for limited defense. Once defeated, these limbs become useless.

Lesser Dooms

• Grab: Roughhouse to attempt to grab a foe. While grabbed, an adventurer is Rooted. 

• While grabbed, a foe can be Squeezed, Thrown, or moved to the mouth for Biting. 

Greater Dooms

• Sweep: A tentacle lashes out, sweeping across the zone. Performs an Attack against everyone in the Zone. 

• Squeeze: Play a greater doom to squeeze all grabbed foes, automatically dealing them a Wound. 

Body

Thick fur covers the body making it extremely hard to injure, but also climbable. If you’re into that. The flippers are located here and, if defeated, it will be unable to steer itself.  

Health/Defense: 6/6

Notes

• Tough. Actions targeting this section must exceed its Initiative. 

Greater Doom

• Ram: With a mighty thrust of its flippers, the whale rushes forward crashing through with its mighty cranial shell. Both Attacks and Roughhouses whatever it crashes into. 

Tail

A bifurcated, Y-finned…uh, tail. Also its primary form of locomotion. Defeating this section causes the beast to be unable to Dash.

Health/Defense: 7/0

Greater Doom

• Thrash: Through a broad sweep, the tail attacks every target in the zone.

Yeah, the front part is more active than the back.

Harvestables

You're not out here butchering these beautiful creatures for nothing. Besides pay. Once you harvest the whale, though, its technically company property, so these reagents will have to be purchased.

Potions: Using the astrogris within the intestines you're able to make a Love potion, which effectively drags anyone experiencing the wearer two positions towards "Admiration" on the Disposition star. 

Bomb: Using the stochastaceti from inside the skull, you make a bomb which forces the target to draw against a random maleficence table as stochastic energies crackle around the area. 

Oil: The blubber of the beast creates one helluva oil. Lanterns burning this whale oil gain an extra flicker, but forever reek of a fishy smell. 

Oil: The astrogris may also be rendered into a frictionless oil that is used to power many magical machines.

Food: Preparing the dark, tender, red meat is possible in multiple ways: steak, sashimi, salt-cured, dried (jerky), or in hot pot dishes. Consuming it, however, swarms with consumer with visions of multiple possible futures, leaving them Stressed. Much like mince pies of the mid-1800's though, the nightmare experience is part of the appeal. 

Wearables**: Whale hide and fur may be made into light armor with 1 extra Notch. 

Tools of the Trade

Harpoon

Harpoons are technically spears: Wooden shaft, metal tip, made for jamming into soft meat bits. Whaling harpoons were much heavier than the war spears, intended not to be thrown and retrieved, but only thrusted into a whale long enough to deliver the barbed iron tip, tied to ropes leading back to the whaling boat. This tied off bard was then used to tire out the whale and keep it in place while it was getting killed by the lance. Technically, it should be a petty officer doing the harpooning, but this is a game, make the players do it. 

Mechanically, the harpoon does 1 damage, as standard. When a harpoon is struck, the thrower is Rooted to the larger creature. If the combined Swords of all harpoon-wielders is greater than the total Health of the larger creature, the creature is Rooted instead. Requires two hands.

Lance

Lances are what did the gruesome killing on a whale. Vicious blades jammed into the vital organs of the tired out whale and jambled around until everything keeping the whale alive stopped working. Technically, this should be a mate or the captain, but this is a game, make the players do it. 

Mechanically, the Whaling Lance does Critical damage to Rooted targets. Requires two hands. 

____________________
* Hold up, hold up, hold up. A pod of whales can also be called a "gam," right? Well, habitual readers will note from the last entry that whalers called their social gatherings "gammings." They named their social gatherings after whale pods. Those dork ass losers. No wonder no one liked them. 

** I could have sworn someone wrote a subsystem for armor crafting in one of the gamejams. Damned if I can find it now, though.

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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. 

Continue Reading...

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 9 

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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