Shameful Editorial Admission: I have no idea if I would ever fully use the Van Hoeks as written below in my own campaign. I think my campaign is (or was, before we paused it for Maze of the Blue Medusa) approaching a point where I really might. However "haha you ran over a land mine now you are dead" is always a tricky thing to drop onto a player. On the other hand, my players were truly embracing the Combat as War philosophy; I think it not impossible that if I ever do drop the Van Hoeks on their heads it won't take them long to realize exactly what's happening...
1. The Lucky Bobs
Sir Robert Strong (LN Human Fighter [Free-Hand Fighter] 4)
Big, bluff, blonde-bearded; lowlander scots accent. Wears a dashing long green-plaid surcoat and yellow-blue tabard with gold boar ensign, carries a poleaxe and heirloom knight's sword with greater magic weapon +3 etched onto the steel (doesn't have the UMD to use it). Haunted by an ancestral ghost, which he wrongly believes is a guardian spirit. The sly poltergeist wants him to die so it can wreak havoc freely.
Build Notes: Balances roles between tying up opponents while fighting one-handed or charging/tripping with poleaxe. Potions of Cat's Grace, Agile Breastplate important to build.
Maester Taft (TN Human Alchemist 4)
Long-faced alchemist who makes a show of never laughing at Sir Bob's jokes. Wants to open an apothecary and retire quietly somewhere. Will stay faithful til the end.
Build Notes: Infusion discovery allows him to share his extracts with party members (as potions). Doesn't like to use his bombs. After buffing allies he drinks a Dex mutagen and plonks away from a safe distance with crossbow.
Tul-Uq (TN Orc Fighter [Border Defender] 3)
This orc of the "tamed" Northern Nation wears a heavy gold icon of Beatrix around his neck. Always an opportunity for an impromptu prayer; very eager to show his piety. Actually a nervous coward. Hates fairies and sees their workings everywhere.
Build Notes: Heavy shield and bastard sword. As a Border Defender he's the party anchor, meant to lock down mobile/aggressive opponents. Too bad he'll always be the first to run.
Bryce Peppers, Bachelor Arcanis (CN Human Wizard 3)
Cocky duelist wizard, always combing his coiffed hair, collar perpetually popped. Wears three big medallions won in school dueling competitions. Autonarrates in combat. Carries a double wheellock pistol and knows how to use it. Hates dirt.
Build Notes: Key spells Mage Armor, True Strike, Ear-Piercing Scream and Spray of Ice (as Burning Hands but cold damage). Will have scrolls of Mage Armor and True Strike ready for his allies.
Accompanied By: 1d4+1 hirelings (porters, groom; Bryce has got light covered) and pack-goat. 1d3 mercenaries (guarding supplies/loot only). Well-treated and reasonably loyal though there is some racism towards the orc.
What's the Deal?
The Lucky Bobs are out for gold and glory but they're pretty much as nice and reasonable a band of tomb-raiders as you'll ever meet. They might be willing to divide areas of the dungeon, trade info or even combine wilderness camps for protection. If the PCs act sketchy, Tul-Uq may force a confrontation out of sheer nerves. The poltergeist will repeatedly try to spook the PCs into attacking and sabotage Sir Bob only at the most critical moment.
*
2. The Murakami Brothers
Hideo Murakami (LN Human Samurai [Sword Saint] 5)
Handsome, expressionless and impatient. The elder Murakami is ruthless and bad-tempered but doesn't kill casually. Loves the oracle, Chizu.
Build notes: Offense. Built to charge and power attack, spring back and do it again.
Maseo Murakami (LN Human Samurai [Yojimbo] 4)
The more heavily- armored younger sibling, still wears his green goblin faceplate into battle. Loves the oracle, Chizu.
Build notes: Defense. Class ability lets him help his brother evade blows. Stays positioned to keep enemies off Hideo's flanks.
Chizu (TN Human Oracle 3)
Ex-prostitute, taken along with the Murakami brothers. They have her gratitude but not her love. She's blind but can augur success via a bundle of sticks, and talks with birds. The brothers never do anything without consulting her, but usually they already know the answer they want to hear.
Accompanied by: Both Samurai have one personal servant apiece to act as porter, messenger and dogsbody. 1d4+2 well-trained local mercenaries (lvl 3 warriors, 2:1 spearmen:archers; one out of six will be a lvl 3 fighter). The mercenaries have been ordered to protect Chizu at all costs, but their loyalty to a triad of foreigners is low.
What's the Deal? In the land of their birth, the brothers were simple warrior-retainers locked into an ironclad feudal code. In the "new" land, they are free to be explorers, entrepreneurs and plunder as they will. They always fight as a pair, watching each other's flanks and charging opponents as one. They both love the beautiful, blind augur named Chizu and know one day it will be the death of one of them. If encountered they'll be unfriendly and try to warn the PCs off their claim, but won't attack first--at least not with Chizu in harm's way.
*
3. The Van Hoek Brothers
It's pronounced "heck."
"Captain" Janek Van Hoek (Human Gunslinger 7)
The elder and the brains. Ranks in Use Magic Device, crafting traps and mundane bombs (although he's no alchemist). Wields a snaphance rifle and two double-barreled wheellock pistols, all masterwork, all with True Strike inscribed on their plating. Carries four additional pistols besides. At point blank range, he always makes called shots for the head.
"Sir" Bodvyjn Van Hoek (Human Fighter [Armor Master] 5)
He's a big guy and he doesn't talk much. Carries a hollow-hilted greatsword with Oil of Greater Magic Weapon +2 on a trigger release, main potions are Bear's Endurance and False Life, wears full plate. He is largely there to be big and obvious and quasi-invulnerable while his brother shoots preferably from somewhere hidden.
+ One Trap Guy, one Talky Guy, at least one (preferably two) Wilderness Guys. These will be 1st to 3rd level but may be equipped as one level higher.
Accompanied By: As many men as they can hire. Draining the local hireling pool is one of their established tactics. They'll arrive with at least 18 armed mercenaries: twelve with spears and six with crossbow-blunderbuss combiweapons (made by Janek himself), one out of six being a third-level serjeant who will have a healing potion and two acid-bombs. These eighteen men think since Janek personally equipped and trained them he wouldn't just throw away their lives. They're wrong.
What's the Deal?
The Van Hoeks aren't just murderhobos. They're the murderhobos. They're the guys who keep an ear to the grapevine to hear tell of someone somewhere making a big score, then swoop in and blast anyone between them and fast lucre.
They're not civilized enough to be called a mafia, but you couldn't say they were just brutes either. Just enough low cunning and secondhand polish to pose as civilized gentlemen in short bursts. They're relentless, highly and particularly skilled. At once calculating, sometimes insanely bold, spiteful, will casually endure brutal privation, and move and fortify with the manic speed of army ants playing minecraft.
In short, they're PCs.
You're not really playing NPC Adventurers. You're playing a pair of rival PCs who treat your setting just like the coldest power gamer ever did. I don't know why I made them Dutch but I apologize to the good people of the Netherlands.
Use your cunning, and every book about bush warfare, trench warfare, frontier living, caving, and real life criminal organizations you ever read. These guys are the Final Boss of mundane human enemies who use quasi-realistic weaponry and tactics and aren't wizards or dragons or whatever-the-shit. If your players manage to beat these guys you should never feel the need to have them fight a squad of goons with billhooks and blunderbusses in a muddy trench ever again.
The Van Hoeks aren't meant to be a purely "random" encounter exactly. They shouldn't enter the campaign until the PCs have cleared or at least hauled a good amount of wealth out of at least one dungeon, dealt with at least 2-3 rival adventuring parties and have a good idea of what sort of tactics are effective in your campaign. When the Van Hoeks arrive they'll know the PCs by reputation and already be maneuvering to have the advantage when they're confronted.
Think of it as an all-points attack on your PCs. You have, loosely, three fronts: The Town (social), the Wilderness (strategic), the Dungeon (tactical). The Van Hoeks will take time (no more than a few days) to lie low and study their adversaries, listen to scuttlebutt, catch sight of them via telescope, whatever. Figure out what the weakest link in your PCs' operation is and hit it. Allies, contacts or patrons in the town might be bribed, subverted or otherwise neutralized. Sabotage supplies, animals, hirelings. Anybody they can dig up who has beef with the PCs, any advantage they can deprive them of, any likely place they can begin setting up an ambush.
Be an asshole, but play within the rules. I would give the Van Hoeks a maximum amount of disposable cash equal to the gear value of a lvl 5 + a lvl 7 Heroic NPC (roughly 10,000 gp)---but I wouldn't give them more than whatever the total amount of cash value the PCs extracted from their last dungeon was. That should still be in the ballpark of a couple thousand GP minimum--plenty for bombs, bullets, bags of sand, caltrops, alchemical gadgets, precious combat potions, and the wages of a small army of goons, hirelings and agents.
*
They won't take your loved ones hostage (they assume any worthy adversary must be as ruthless as themselves), they won't introduce themselves by stepping into the light dramatically and they will never willingly speak more than a sentence without intermediaries. It's unlikely the players will ever learn their names. These are not colorful archenemies to be placed like set dressing in your PCs' path. They are PC Killers.
Three-quarters cover; elevation; difficult terrain; called shots; True Strike; Darkness; Mirror Image; acid flasks; alchemist's fire; barricades, berms, cave-ins and pit-falls; area-denial, kiting, sniping; it's a simple formula. Repeat until your players are beaten or limp away and leave the treasure behind. After all, the Van Hoeks are there for the money.
If you somehow get to Close Quarters Combat with them (within 80' and a relatively unimpeded area of movement) you've pretty much already won. Janek might--with amped Init, a True Strike called shot and quickdraw--bag one or two of the squishier PCs with headshots before the Action Economy Death Conga brings him down. Bodvyjn will fight on forlornly and silently, a failed final sentinel. Asking for quarter would never occur to either of them.
Showing posts with label Not Put Into Play Yet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Not Put Into Play Yet. Show all posts
Saturday, January 20, 2018
Tuesday, January 16, 2018
Dungeon Entrance
Given time, this loose collection of ideas will hopefully congeal into a good-sized dungeon module. For now working title is Stonehold of the Shaper. It's a classic "explore the wizard's lair" scenario: there was a powerful wizard, he was a very bad man, he has died in a spectacular and public fashion (or has he...) and his sanctum with all its treasures and strangeness lies open to plunder.
~~
The stonehold lies inside of a massive plateau of limestone, carved out of living rock over decades by a clan of contracted dwarf masons. These are probably the guys who gave your PCs the lair's coordinates: they were sworn to silence, but only so long as the Wizard lived. Getting inside the plateau is a matter of walking across the tableland, a landscape of scrub grass and stunted windblown oaks. Then the plateau's west cliff face must be scaled downwards some 40'. In the cliffside is a sunken, smooth hole six feet in diameter like a knothole in the sheer stone, virtually undetectable from above or below.
Obviously rappelling down the cliff in heavy armor would be nigh-impossible, unless you run one of those campaigns that skips over such annoying details. Carrying out something as large as a chest of treasure is likewise going to present serious difficulties. The cliff towers a little more than 100' high over the grassland below. If your players want to hire some laborers to build scaffolding or a crane at the top of the cliff I would have it take little more than a month for the necessary materials to be moved out to this remote location, via riverboat partway then mule train to the plateau. It would then require a few weeks for building; during that time other treasure hunters might attack the worksite, but there won't be any activity coming in or out of the entrance.
There is at least one secret entrance into the Stonehold directly from the tableland, although I haven't figured out where to place it yet. Another interesting feature of the plateau is a collection of stacks of massive granite blocks, stacked into short pyramids. The light-colored granite cubes are 5x5x5 feet and each weighs approximately one ton (it should probably be more but we'll assume a fairly low density granite...) There are dozens in all, and although the PCs can't know this yet they cluster directly above the area in the Stonehold called the Arena. The granite blocks themselves might be valuable to somebody but appraising and moving them would obviously be a serious undertaking.
Once the PCs reach the hole in the cliff, they'll find that it leads into a smooth funnel of scraped limestone which slopes six feet down into a short drop at one end of a roughly cubical hollow in the plateau. This chamber is 40x40x40 feet. Against the wall opposite the entrance is a fourteen foot high band of polished flecked black granite, set into the limestone. In the center of this wall is what at first appears to be a giant, projecting sculpture of wetly shining gold.
The smooth gold surface looks like a man's head, half-sunk into the granite, eyes shut and expressionless. It measures 10' high from bald crown to chin. The first time someone comes 30' or nearer its eyes open to show smooth gold orbs and the golden mouth moves as fluidly as flesh, or as if the gold were still hot from the smelter. It will ask the PCs a series of riddles, up to four, opening for one person at a time after each answer (right or wrong) and then admitting as many people as want in after the fourth. Rather than provide you with a series of riddles I would suggest a DM should think about his players and tailor the questions to them. For example for my players, I would ask something like:
(The answers "Def Leppard" or "a deaf leopard" would be correct)
The head doesn't introduce itself or anything, it just asks questions. It's not intelligent. Of course, the PCs could just attack the head---but although its made of soft gold it's heavy enough to blunt and damage any weapons continuously beating on it. If the PCs attack it with tools, given a few hours' work they might crumple and finally dislodge the giant head (its total weight is probably close to two tons). Of course they'll have made enough racket by then to be heard throughout the Stonehold.
After a question is answered (right or wrong) the face stretches its mouth impossibly wide apart like The Wall album cover [EDIT: Actually I seem to be thinking of the film poster], the silky wet gold of its lips pulling away from teeth above and below to create a large entryway, through which can be seen the first chamber of the Stonehold proper. Once a person (it doesn't have to be the one who answered) steps into the mouth, it snaps shut like lightning, leaving the hapless entrant trapped against a giant tongue. The aperture to the Stonehold squeezes shut as the construct's gold mouth-juices wash over the entrant.
If the answer to the riddle was correct, the person is shunted out through the sphincter in the back of the head, and lands on the floor of the Stonehold coated in gold saliva but otherwise unmolested. Their voice will be audible if they call back to people in the entry chamber, and vice versa.
If two or more people try to step into the mouth simultaneously any time before the fourth riddle, all but one (pick randomly) will be spat out.
If the answer was incorrect, the mouth also closes over the entrant. They are trapped and washed in sticky gold saliva as before, but the fluid isn't inert. They must make a Fortitude save (DC 15). A failure causes a complete physical transformation as the former PCs' mind is destroyed and body remade into a golden aberration, head replaced by a whipping tendril, limbs or more tentacles randomly erupting from a twisted humanoid form that looks made of beaten, slickly shining gold. In game terms it will either have HD as the PC's level or at minimum 3, plus a tentacle and two claw attacks (multi-attack assumed), and DR 5/bludgeoning from their metallic hide. Armor and other worn gear is destroyed; nonmetallic gear (bedroll, scroll-case, probably rations) is ruined from soaking, but metallic or preserved objects (a sealed jar of oil, a sextant etc.) may be recovered.
The aberration is then spat back out of the giant mouth and immediately attacks the party. It will fight until slain. Following its demise, the giant head simply asks another riddle and awaits an answer.
If the Fortitude save is made, the entrant is ejected out the sphincter in the back of the head. They are however partially transformed into a new creature called a Golden One. Unlike a full mutation, this does not explode any worn equipment though some gear may be lost due to being soaked in vinegar-y gold saliva.
As a Golden One the mutated person is changed into a hairless, shining gold version of themselves with jet black eyes. Any prior imperfections in their physique are erased, their new flesh of gold beautiful in contour and proportion. Their type changes to Living Construct (see the rules on 3.5's Warforged), and they will no longer suffer physical drawbacks from aging. If their Charisma was 12 or lower, they gain plus-two charisma; they also gain plus-two natural armor and a natural slam attack (d4 Med creature, d3 small).
Transformation into a Golden One incurs a DC 17 Will save. On a failure, the transformed person's alignment changes to Chaotic or Neutral Evil, and they become a willing servant of The Formless Many. They will seek to spread chaos---wild magic, hedonism, social decay--by whatever means necessary. The mentally transformed Golden One gains the following supernatural abilities: Detect Law at will, Charm Person 3x/day, True Strike 1x/day. If the Golden One is at least third level they also gain Glitterdust 1x/day, and at eighth level they gain Chaos Hammer 1x/day. Relevant casting stat is INT or CHA, whichever is higher. On a successful save, the new Golden One retains their ego/personality but does not gain any (Su)s.
If a PC gets transformed into a Golden One who serves the Formless Many, take that player out of the room or pass them a note. Explain their new personality/allegiance to them. Ideally they should pretend to have been only physically transformed and remain with the party, biding their time to spread disorder or advance the cause of the Formless Many and its earthly cult. However some players may not like the idea of playing a "traitor," and if that's the case I suggest allowing them to treat their transformed PC as a casualty and roll up a new character, while the newborn Golden One retreats deeper into the Stonehold as a now openly-hostile NPC.
The face will impassively and implacably ask its riddles three times, each time admitting only one person to step through and discover their fate following an answer. The fourth time, it will ask a final riddle and then admit as many people as want to step into the mouth. On a correct answer, they all get squished together and then shunted out through the sphincter, nothing hurt but their dignity.
On an incorrect answer, multiple entrants must all make fortitude saves. Those who pass are shunted out the back as individual Golden Ones and make their Will Save as normal. Those who fail are transformed into a single combined Aberration and spat out the mouth. Begin with an Aberration of 3 HD minimum, then add at least 2 HD per person fused (or HD equal to level whichever is higher). At 5 HD the Aberration is Large, at 8 HD Huge and so on. For each person in the fusion it gains an additional tentacle or claw attack and +2 natural armor. This final monster's appearance is of multiple bodies, stretched and welded topsy-turvy together into a trunk of gold flesh crowned with branching tendrils and staggering on two human legs barely adequate to its weight.
What if on the fourth riddle, people give separate answers and then enter together?The Golden Head is only programmed to accept one answer at a time, so in this situation randomly determine which answer it accepts either by rolling d3+ or via eenie-meanie-meiny-moe.
~~
The stonehold lies inside of a massive plateau of limestone, carved out of living rock over decades by a clan of contracted dwarf masons. These are probably the guys who gave your PCs the lair's coordinates: they were sworn to silence, but only so long as the Wizard lived. Getting inside the plateau is a matter of walking across the tableland, a landscape of scrub grass and stunted windblown oaks. Then the plateau's west cliff face must be scaled downwards some 40'. In the cliffside is a sunken, smooth hole six feet in diameter like a knothole in the sheer stone, virtually undetectable from above or below.
 |
| kind of like this but more barren up top |
Obviously rappelling down the cliff in heavy armor would be nigh-impossible, unless you run one of those campaigns that skips over such annoying details. Carrying out something as large as a chest of treasure is likewise going to present serious difficulties. The cliff towers a little more than 100' high over the grassland below. If your players want to hire some laborers to build scaffolding or a crane at the top of the cliff I would have it take little more than a month for the necessary materials to be moved out to this remote location, via riverboat partway then mule train to the plateau. It would then require a few weeks for building; during that time other treasure hunters might attack the worksite, but there won't be any activity coming in or out of the entrance.
There is at least one secret entrance into the Stonehold directly from the tableland, although I haven't figured out where to place it yet. Another interesting feature of the plateau is a collection of stacks of massive granite blocks, stacked into short pyramids. The light-colored granite cubes are 5x5x5 feet and each weighs approximately one ton (it should probably be more but we'll assume a fairly low density granite...) There are dozens in all, and although the PCs can't know this yet they cluster directly above the area in the Stonehold called the Arena. The granite blocks themselves might be valuable to somebody but appraising and moving them would obviously be a serious undertaking.
Once the PCs reach the hole in the cliff, they'll find that it leads into a smooth funnel of scraped limestone which slopes six feet down into a short drop at one end of a roughly cubical hollow in the plateau. This chamber is 40x40x40 feet. Against the wall opposite the entrance is a fourteen foot high band of polished flecked black granite, set into the limestone. In the center of this wall is what at first appears to be a giant, projecting sculpture of wetly shining gold.
The smooth gold surface looks like a man's head, half-sunk into the granite, eyes shut and expressionless. It measures 10' high from bald crown to chin. The first time someone comes 30' or nearer its eyes open to show smooth gold orbs and the golden mouth moves as fluidly as flesh, or as if the gold were still hot from the smelter. It will ask the PCs a series of riddles, up to four, opening for one person at a time after each answer (right or wrong) and then admitting as many people as want in after the fourth. Rather than provide you with a series of riddles I would suggest a DM should think about his players and tailor the questions to them. For example for my players, I would ask something like:
"I'm hot and sweet, known to be hysterical
They never hear me coming, though my spots are inimical
I'm a master of stealth and silent off the branch I fall
Which is just as well, because I can't hear at all
What am I?
They never hear me coming, though my spots are inimical
I'm a master of stealth and silent off the branch I fall
Which is just as well, because I can't hear at all
What am I?
(The answers "Def Leppard" or "a deaf leopard" would be correct)
The head doesn't introduce itself or anything, it just asks questions. It's not intelligent. Of course, the PCs could just attack the head---but although its made of soft gold it's heavy enough to blunt and damage any weapons continuously beating on it. If the PCs attack it with tools, given a few hours' work they might crumple and finally dislodge the giant head (its total weight is probably close to two tons). Of course they'll have made enough racket by then to be heard throughout the Stonehold.
After a question is answered (right or wrong) the face stretches its mouth impossibly wide apart like The Wall album cover [EDIT: Actually I seem to be thinking of the film poster], the silky wet gold of its lips pulling away from teeth above and below to create a large entryway, through which can be seen the first chamber of the Stonehold proper. Once a person (it doesn't have to be the one who answered) steps into the mouth, it snaps shut like lightning, leaving the hapless entrant trapped against a giant tongue. The aperture to the Stonehold squeezes shut as the construct's gold mouth-juices wash over the entrant.
If the answer to the riddle was correct, the person is shunted out through the sphincter in the back of the head, and lands on the floor of the Stonehold coated in gold saliva but otherwise unmolested. Their voice will be audible if they call back to people in the entry chamber, and vice versa.
If two or more people try to step into the mouth simultaneously any time before the fourth riddle, all but one (pick randomly) will be spat out.
If the answer was incorrect, the mouth also closes over the entrant. They are trapped and washed in sticky gold saliva as before, but the fluid isn't inert. They must make a Fortitude save (DC 15). A failure causes a complete physical transformation as the former PCs' mind is destroyed and body remade into a golden aberration, head replaced by a whipping tendril, limbs or more tentacles randomly erupting from a twisted humanoid form that looks made of beaten, slickly shining gold. In game terms it will either have HD as the PC's level or at minimum 3, plus a tentacle and two claw attacks (multi-attack assumed), and DR 5/bludgeoning from their metallic hide. Armor and other worn gear is destroyed; nonmetallic gear (bedroll, scroll-case, probably rations) is ruined from soaking, but metallic or preserved objects (a sealed jar of oil, a sextant etc.) may be recovered.
 |
| So this, but like a 24-karat sculpture |
The aberration is then spat back out of the giant mouth and immediately attacks the party. It will fight until slain. Following its demise, the giant head simply asks another riddle and awaits an answer.
As a Golden One the mutated person is changed into a hairless, shining gold version of themselves with jet black eyes. Any prior imperfections in their physique are erased, their new flesh of gold beautiful in contour and proportion. Their type changes to Living Construct (see the rules on 3.5's Warforged), and they will no longer suffer physical drawbacks from aging. If their Charisma was 12 or lower, they gain plus-two charisma; they also gain plus-two natural armor and a natural slam attack (d4 Med creature, d3 small).
 |
| Like this, but naked-er and more uncomfortably sexy |
Transformation into a Golden One incurs a DC 17 Will save. On a failure, the transformed person's alignment changes to Chaotic or Neutral Evil, and they become a willing servant of The Formless Many. They will seek to spread chaos---wild magic, hedonism, social decay--by whatever means necessary. The mentally transformed Golden One gains the following supernatural abilities: Detect Law at will, Charm Person 3x/day, True Strike 1x/day. If the Golden One is at least third level they also gain Glitterdust 1x/day, and at eighth level they gain Chaos Hammer 1x/day. Relevant casting stat is INT or CHA, whichever is higher. On a successful save, the new Golden One retains their ego/personality but does not gain any (Su)s.
If a PC gets transformed into a Golden One who serves the Formless Many, take that player out of the room or pass them a note. Explain their new personality/allegiance to them. Ideally they should pretend to have been only physically transformed and remain with the party, biding their time to spread disorder or advance the cause of the Formless Many and its earthly cult. However some players may not like the idea of playing a "traitor," and if that's the case I suggest allowing them to treat their transformed PC as a casualty and roll up a new character, while the newborn Golden One retreats deeper into the Stonehold as a now openly-hostile NPC.
The face will impassively and implacably ask its riddles three times, each time admitting only one person to step through and discover their fate following an answer. The fourth time, it will ask a final riddle and then admit as many people as want to step into the mouth. On a correct answer, they all get squished together and then shunted out through the sphincter, nothing hurt but their dignity.
On an incorrect answer, multiple entrants must all make fortitude saves. Those who pass are shunted out the back as individual Golden Ones and make their Will Save as normal. Those who fail are transformed into a single combined Aberration and spat out the mouth. Begin with an Aberration of 3 HD minimum, then add at least 2 HD per person fused (or HD equal to level whichever is higher). At 5 HD the Aberration is Large, at 8 HD Huge and so on. For each person in the fusion it gains an additional tentacle or claw attack and +2 natural armor. This final monster's appearance is of multiple bodies, stretched and welded topsy-turvy together into a trunk of gold flesh crowned with branching tendrils and staggering on two human legs barely adequate to its weight.
What if on the fourth riddle, people give separate answers and then enter together?The Golden Head is only programmed to accept one answer at a time, so in this situation randomly determine which answer it accepts either by rolling d3+ or via eenie-meanie-meiny-moe.
Thursday, February 9, 2017
What's In The Eastwylde Pt 1 - Fairies
Fairy Folk
Pixies, Leprechauns and Brownies are the three common types. Boggarts and Redcaps are the less-talked about, much less funny cousins to these three varieties of Fey.
Pixies (AL: CN)
Pixies are the most numerous---the Eastwylde has a population in the hundreds, at least. They have what comes closest to a real society, with leaders, shepherds, weavers and other specialized roles. Essentially, Pixie society is stratified into the commoners and the Gentry. The main difference is that Pixie commoners live in large tumulous mounds like ant hives (almost all of which are obscured by forest), while Gentry live in houses painstakingly modeled after the latest human architectural fashions, built into the trunk of a living tree with its rooftops among the branches. Likewise, commoners dress in simple wool and linen garb, while Gentry use magic or any other means to dress in miniature approximation of the latest human fashions.
No pixies have appeared in the game so far, but you can bet every time the party's ventured into the forest they've been watched carefully.
Pixie commoners are organized into clans, with each clan living in one mound. It may seem odd for winged creatures to spend so much time underground but they don't seem to mind. They festoon their burrows with tiny oilskin lanterns and hang enough holly and pine to sweeten the subterranean air. Pixies may be only 18" high--the size of a doll, perhaps---but they need to eat, and they keep chickens just like everybody else. Perfectly normal chickens, who have to be led out from underground each day and then watched carefully as they amble about their pens. This is the job of the youngest and lowest ranking Pixies, but they take the job seriously----if you see what appears to be a lost chicken wandering in the woods, leave it alone. Additionally, the pixies have bred a species of dwarf sheep from which they get their fleece and wool. Humans frequently mistake these sheep for lost lambs wandering in the woods and become sheep-stealers without realizing it.
One of the most important things about Pixies is that they cast their spells primarily through archery, which is both a means of communication and an obsessive past-time to them. Pixies imbue their will into the arrows they launch. These tiny arrows---more like long needles, really---cast whatever spell they want on the struck target. Obviously, it's no good to cast, say, confusion, on a dead man so Pixies are really good at shooting people in usually nonfatal body parts. In fact, skilled pixies can plug a hapless commoner two dozen times before he is even in danger of bleeding out. One of their most important spells is Charm Monster, which allows them to befriend any beast or man they strike with their darts. Thus pixies hunt, not necessarily for food, but often for new friends and pets. Their burrows are typically guarded by charmed badgers, who probably have magic fang and a few other basic enchantments ready to go.
Pixies are vaguely brythonic in origin and if you crack open any ancient history book about Britain you should find a bunch of ready-to-use names. Caradog, Cunobelin, Admindios, Gwydyros, sure (One of the few problems is a lack of female names in the sources but, like, just stick -etica at the end and you're probably safe. Like Caradetica, Gwydyretica). Gaulish and modern Welsh and Breton names should be close enough for government work.
Common pixies decorate themselves and make fastening toggles with fangs and bits of horn and bone and wear cloaks and hats of fleece in Winter, of woven leaves in Spring and Summer. They paint spirals and celtic knots in blue woad on everything, including their faces in wartime. Since metal is abhorrent to them they officially rebuke it and only use bone and flint for arrowheads, but the truth is every pixie has a pouch of a few nails or other iron bits which they might make into particularly dangerous arrows for a particularly hated rival. Pixie clans go to war with each other all the time, but real fights only happen between two individuals who really hate each other.
Pixies not only enslave animals to be their guards and cattle, they enslave men to be their, uh, slaves. Actually, common pixies do this way more than Gentry, because more than anything they abhor the drudgery of labor, while Gentry families pride themselves on not being so lazy. It is rare for them to enslave anyone long-term: when slaves are taken it is because they were a target of convenience (usually lost in the woods), or one of the youngest/lowest-ranking Pixies has some particularly odious task such as a long journey and wants to fob it off. In such cases they may just find any old human, shoot him in the ass with a charm arrow, and say something like, "dear friend, would you do me the great kindness of taking this important letter to such-and-such down the road?" The poor human might find himself bewitched by the addressee of the missive as soon as he finally arrives, sent back with a simple message such as "we do not appreciate solicitors!" This kind of incidental/accidental happening is how Pixie slavery works and slaves usually are forgotten/reprieved/escape after a few chores.
Of course, younger Pixies usually can't cast charm spells that last long. What often happens is the spell wears off when the human is halfway through his errand, and he is often left in a state of confusion as to why he was doing what he was just doing. Human peasants, of course, conflate this with perfectly ordinary forgetfulness--like when you come into a room to get something and immediately forget what it was, if you're some salt of the earth type you'll often go "confounded pixies!"
Sometimes humans get enslaved longer term. Usually it's attractive and unmarried young women, just one more reason for farmers to lock up their daughters at night. If a human is "taken on as help" by Pixies for a longer term, they are often shrank down to be of better use. A fully-grown human in a Pixie burrow usually isn't much good except as a doorjamb. Gentry almost always shrink their humans down to Pixie size (this requires a higher-level version of Reduce Person), but some cheaper ones might leave them at Halfling-size, which is still awkwardly big for a burrow or treehouse.
Slaves of the gentry are always house-servants, working in the kitchens inside the brick foot of the house (being built into treetrunks, these houses are always quite vertically, usually 12 feet tall with 3-4 stories). Obviously working in a kitchen in a tree is a precarious job which is why the little ovens and stoves are carefully built into brickwork. This makes the kitchens of a Pixie Gentleman hellish hot. Human nurses frequently tell tales of naughty children taken by the Pixies and put into the kitchen, forced to bake "the squire's" bread in heat and smoke like hell until they pass out and fall into the oven which, of course, was what the vile Pixie wanted all along ("now along with the bread comes the roast!" is the punchline to these stories). In real life any Pixie Gentleman who did this would be a sociopathic monster among his own kind---but who knows what the Gentry do in their big ornate houses?
However, the truth of enslaved ("adopted") human children is nothing like these nursery tales. It does happen that sometimes a Pixie---common or genteel--gets the idea to kidnap a human child and raise them as a full-time servant. The kid is usually treated with much condescension, since humans can't fly and are ridiculously clumsy; men are just sort of inherently comical to Pixies. Most Pixies can't really stomach cruelty to a child any more than you or I can, and such servants are treated reasonably and often released when they get old enough to start really missing other humans. There are quite a few ordinary people in the border country who spent one or two years as a servant of the Pixies, with experiences ranging from the harrowing to the pleasant.
Almost always, Pixie Gentry cultivate a beehive on one of the branches of their tree. They obtain massive amounts of honey and put it on everything: baking it into cakes, brewing mead, spreading it on toast, etc. This honey is the absolute property of the Gentry, and often used as a means to cajole the commoners into doing something for a Gentleman (which task they may well then kick down to a hapless human). Genteel Pixies get along fabulously with bees, because they frequently wear clothes with beestripes (they cover a lot of their shit in stylized stripes just like commoners do with spirals) which means they practically look like bees themselves. They often walk around with a bevy of bees crawling all over them, the fuzzy little dears being the size of a tiny toy dog in comparison perhaps. The noise of this is incredible and a little frightening to shrunk-down servants.
Of course, Pixie Gents utilize archery just as much as their common kin, and are usually better at it (notwithstanding they always have much fancier, more powerful composite bows). They also carry special swords, never of metal but typically a length of thornbush or nettle, carefully stiffened and sharpened, with its prickles bristling off the "blade." When two Pixie Gents are going to duel, as a mark of station and bravery, they prefer to swing these "stings" at one another while spinning around in a flashy midair melee. They sting like hell without inflicting serious injury, which makes them excellent dueling weapons and prods for recalcitrant slaves.
You might assume the Gentry are the leaders of Pixie society, but really the Gentry and Commons are like two wholly different societies. Gentry families are usually just 4-6 individuals plus servants and get their social lives from parties thrown at so-and-so's house, or special balls held in such-and-such glade. Commoner clans have their own internal leadership structure, always led by a patriarchal elder, who deals with the Gentry on behalf of his people more in the way of negotiation than deference.
In theory, if the Pixies were to ever go to war, all the clans would get together under the leadership of their hereditary squires, who would assemble before the King of the Forest in their leaf armor, perhaps riding specially bred war-pigeons. Nobody could even imagine this happening in modern times, especially in the Eastwylde where there hasn't been a King of the Forest in 500 years.
Brownies (AL: CG)
None of the other Fairy Folk like the Brownies. They're such brown nosers. Always cozying up to Men. Living in barn lofts, cellars and cabinets. Mending shoes, pans, doorhandles, and always respectfully retreating with the dawn, not looking for so much as a thank-you---just a bowl of milk and crushed chestnuts for me, thank-you ma'm--don't they know that Fairies are supposed to be feared and respected by mortalkind? Where do they get off toadying like that, letting the whole side down??
Right, so nobody likes Brownies. Brownies don't live in the forest, because the tougher and meaner Fairies would make game of them, but they don't all necessarily squat in human houses either. Most live on the border of the forest, usually in a little one-room burrow beneath an old stump or mossy stone. Brownies are vaguely related to Gnomes, who are inclined to the earth element, so they're very comfortable in a subterranean hollow that would be claustrophobic to anyone else. If the burrow is home to multiple generations it might be expanded to something like a little cabin, with a rabbit chamber and a reading nook. Brownies are, as a rule, the most unassuming, mild-mannered cornpone little motherfuckers on earth. Other Fairies find them absolutely gratingly pleasant, like they have no pride at all.
Brownies like doing things for people, and they're also very good at it. They're not creatively inclined, but they can fix just about anything, of whatever material. In fact, a brownie just has to hold an object in his hands and study it for a while, and they'll sort of absorb the essence of it and have an epiphany as to how, if at all possible, they might fix a thing. For example, a Brownie who had never tinkered in his life might hold an iron pan for a minute and then take up a hammer and beat the dents out of it as though he'd been apprenticed to the task all his life. Likewise with stitchery, cobbling, gardening, whatever. They can't make new things (or they only can with great difficulty) but they can repair almost anything.
You would think they would just come out in the open and be welcomed by human society. But Brownies are smart enough to understand that, inevitably, humans would try to take advantage of their good intentions. It's better to just keep the relationship simple and indirect. That way the Brownies have a use and the humans get their stuff fixed---everybody's happy, nobody's hurt. Brownies are only a little shorter than Halflings and could be mistaken for them quite easily though, so who knows how many adventurous young brownies walk out in the open in Halfling or mixed towns?
Brownie society, such as it is, is laid back and pleasant. They either live solitary lives or with
immediate family. Being fey, obviously, there's no rush for them to get married. When not helping others they love comfortable pastttimes like storybooks, pipe tobacco, trimming a dwarf tree, or making paintings. I said Brownies couldn't create anything, but they can make totally fatuous Thomas Kincaide style landscapes as a racial ability. They think that shit is adorable which further baffles and enrages other Fairies. They can't write though, so all their books are "borrowed" from Men (being virtually ageless they don't see the problem with borrowing a book from some family for a few decades or centuries---they really do keep close track of the bloodline). Brownie weddings are wonderful week-long affairs that draw in families from the whole region, usually held in a clearing or heath on the forest border. Although they remain hidden or disguised in human communities, out in wasteland Brownies walk around quite openly. You might see a few on their way to a wedding party with kegs of beer and loaves under their arms.
The other thing about Brownies is they all carry swords and, at the end of the day they're ready to throw down. Like, Pixies stick to bows and Leprechauns to clubs, because while they're more ready to use violence, using metal is a level of hardcore they don't like to go to. If a Brownie needs to settle some shit though he's going to be pretty dead serious about it. They have no ego but they do have a strong sense of decency, and aren't the toughest Fairies but will always do the right thing. Another genre of Fairy Tales is the one about the brave little brownie who stepped in to save a maiden from an Ogre. Usually the Brownie ends up a smear on the Ogre's fist, which is a lesson to teach kids that you can't succeed just through good intentions or something.
I have no idea what Brownies would call themselves. Probably gentle nature names like Willow, Ashwhite, uh.... Heath? Whatever. Let's be honest these dudes are a little boring, and they'll probably just adopt halfling/human names.
Leprechauns (AL: CN)
Leprechauns could almost be Brownies---they're the same size. But while Brownies are proportionate and can be attractive like halflings, Leprechauns are misshappen, with enormous heads, stooped shoulders and twisted legs (that in no way impinges their strength or speed). Really, each Leprechaun's proportions and features are quite unique, which is to say that each Leprechaun is ugly in his own unique way. If there are lady leprechauns no one's ever seen one. Maybe Leprechauns are just an adolescent phase Brownie Boys go through.
The best way to describe Leprechauns is that they are punk-asses. They are jackasses, and they are punks. They're greedy, territorial and clannish, but also they love doing stupid reckless shit to impress their friends. Pin the tail on the Hill Giant, steal a water-wheel and try to keep it spinning downstream, tie your friend to a treebranch while he's sleeping and smear his face with honey, etc. Fortunately for Leprechauns they are shockingly tough, or at least resilient to blunt force trauma.
Not every Leprechaun guards a pot of gold. That's a story they spread around to troll humans. Actually Leprechauns themselves aren't sure if any of them has a pot of gold, but they're always sort of suspicious that one of them might, if they could just find the bastard and shake it out of him.
Leprechauns always dress well, or at least flashy. They copy human fashions although they are often centuries out of date or appropriated from weird and obscure cultures, or often a bizarre mix and match in garish colors. They actually do not like green or colors that blend in with the natural environment, they want to stand out. Hideous as they are, they go to great lengths to cultivate unique styles of facial hair (and occasionally their copious body hair). They form associations, or gangs, based on neighborhoods which are hidden to humans but are clearly marked all over the forests, usually with a Fairy Circle (of mushrooms, stones etc.) demarcating a Leprechaun's yard.
I haven't even talked about Fairy Circles yet so I guess I will here---Fairy Circles are reputedly gateways to other worlds and sometimes they are, but more frequently they're just the Fairy version of boundary stones, like a fence around your yard. Like a Pixie gentleman will have a ring of mushrooms around the giant gnarled oak he lives in, or a ring of mushrooms will crown the top of a Pixie tumulus, or there will be a semicircle of mushrooms spread around the stump a Brownie lives in. Fairy Circles basically just mean "I live here (get lost)." Leprechaun gangs usually consist of 4-6 individuals whose Fairy Circles happen to be fairly close. Like boys from the same neighborhood they fight constantly but always close ranks against outsiders (anybody from outside their tiny district of the woods).
Individually leprechauns are just surly little men, but in gangs they can be terrors. They love to get blitzed on berry wine and white lightning and "roam around the woods looking for fights." (A fight usually consists of finding the nearest Brownie and shoving/ridiculing him until he cries). The common story is that Men (or other mortals) who blunder into a Leprechaun "neighborhood" will be expected to present a "gift" to "the lords" because that's only manners. Indeed Leprechauns shake people down for their valuables constantly; they'll take money but soon forget about it and leave it somewhere. But fine clothes or magic items are what they really prize. They are always looking to extravagate their wardrobe and they can read magic easily. As mentioned, intimidation is a favorite tactic if they're in a gang, but individually or together Leprechauns love to trick and confound Men and take great pride in doing this. They are capable of powerful illusionary magic and will go to elaborate lengths to confuse a Man so bad he doesn't know what's up from his right. Convincing a guy he's drowning and then going "quick, throw me your [coin pouch/nice hat/magic sword] and I'll throw you a rope!" is a favorite (the punchline is tossing a coiled rope into the guy's face once you let the illusion fade). Just imagine a million mean jokes of that nature.
Leprechauns as a rule carry sticks, but sometimes one makes a "punch" from carved knucklebones complete with nasty enchantments like woozify or slurrinate (confuse and slow; Leprechauns have their own better names for spells). One thing everybody knows is that Leprechauns are jerks but they will never actually kill anybody (this is actually more of a risk with Pixies who might kill you accidentally; Leprechauns have a much better idea of what they're doing when they handle mortals). If you're too wise to their routines they may just beat the shit out of you and leave your bruised hide back at the edge of the forest, though.
Leprechauns aren't all bad. They will stick up for their mates. They won't inflict more cruelty on a humiliated victim. They may be spontaneously kind, to children, forest hermits, the lost or wretched.
They like pretty girls and will usually rob one of no more than a kiss.
Leprechaun names are long and complicated and prone to change with their mood. They are usually comprised of medieval Irish conventions (so Brendan Og Cailean rather than Brendan O'Colin) plus word salad. Really just invent something that sounds goofy. Here are the Leprechaun names I've used so far: Tyrnaut Fitz Tyrnaut; Clontarf Mac Cock-Whistle; Peevish Thurible; Boykin Creakly; and Kelly Kelly Kelly.
Yes, when I play Leprechauns at a table I put on the worst 30's Hollywood-style brogue that I can. It's not offensive, Leprechauns are supposed to be horrible!
Redcaps (AL: NE)
If Leprechauns are the rudeboys of the Fairy World, Redcaps are the lone nuts. Seriously, murder is their whole thing. There is no Redcap culture. Even other Fairies don't know how many there are, if they reproduce or if there's just a certain number of insane immortal killers wandering the world. Nobody knows why Redcaps kill. They target Beast, Man and Fairy alike, leave no explanations and usually no survivors.
The story goes that they are a Vengeance from the Lost World (A Hate From Old Times, if you will). Fairies know, vaguely, that they used to inhabit some other world before they came to this one, and that world was destroyed, and the Gnomes had something to do with it which is why they're not counted among the various Folks anymore. Some fairies say the Redcaps are a holdover from that world, a weapon that was unleashed and stalks its prey still, following a mandate that no longer has a source or a purpose. But maybe that's just a story. Redcaps don't talk, but they do laugh---a noise nobody who survives an attack will ever forget.
Redcaps would be about the size of gnomes if they stood straight, but they're bent like old men, which they resemble. They have twisted little legs and long apelike arms knotty with muscle. Their trepezial muscles are jacked and they have thick, trunklike necks that jut their wan, sunken faces forward. They have long white beards, always silky smooth, and long white hair, also straight, flowing back from under the long red wool stocking caps they wear. Other than the bright cap they usually wear dull brown rags, clothes long worn from centuries(?) of skulking and wandering, sometimes concealing cloaks. Redcaps' eyes are huge, like an owl's, with little dead black pupils in a sea of white. Under a beaklike nose their mouths break open to display long, yellow angler-teeth which seem to project forward a little whenever their lips pull back. They carry long scythes (man-sized) which they seem to be able to pull from nowhere at all, and wield with speed and ferocity.
Some say the reason Redcaps don't talk is their face isn't their real face---the real face is on the top of their skull, under their cap. But survivors of Redcap attacks say that's just a stupid fable, because they've seen Redcaps doff their caps to dip in the blood of their victims, and beneath was just a bald crown. Redcaps pause to dip their caps in the blood of a fresh kill, always, which is why their caps are always bright red, and how some manage to escape them.
Redcaps hide in all kinds of places you'd never expect, but places any child would suspect too. Under stairs, beds, in cabinets, in wells, under piles of hay, under a sick calf, in mother's chaplet. They wander with seemingly no preference between wilderness, countryside and towns. They are not only shaped like apes but just as strong and can leap high enough to catch the eaves of most roofs. Sometimes they won't use their scythes but bite with those oversized teeth which are iron-strong, and lap up gushing blood from their dying victim.
Redcaps don't exactly work together, but it's surprising how often two or three might independently choose the same place for a murder. If two Redcaps encounter each other by chance, they silently doff their caps, and continue on with their grim work. Once everyone in the immediate vicinity is dead, they retreat back into the shadows. Of course there are plenty of murderers among Men so Redcaps are rarely suspected, but among Fairies, a discovered murder almost always means Redcaps.
It is possible for a Wizard to lure out a Redcap with tobbaco and bloody beef (and, a recent discovery, chocolate), then if they are powerful enough to overawe the creature, take it as a familiar. Redcaps make excellent (and perhaps more importantly, intimidating) bodyguards in some wizards' opinion. It's said that with some work a wizard can make his Redcap familiar talk, although what they might have to say is known only to those wizards.
Boggarts (AL: CE)
Boggarts look like Leprechauns aged about 40 years---in other words they look like twisted, misshappen little old men rather than boistrous brutes or ugly coxcombes. They dress well but usually in dour and concealing cloaks or mantles with broad caps. They wander roads quite openly and fearlessly in broad daylight, and but also up mountain or forest paths as if on some world-spanning errand only they know. Wherever a Boggart encounters someone, it's likely to lead to trouble, as Boggarts are both wicked and quite sensitive, which is a terrible combination.
Boggarts are sensitive about everything---their age and ugliness, their height, their clothes, the weather--it's extraordinarily easy to offend one. That's when the Boggart whips off his hat and cloak, face reddening and growls "now ye've done it!" Stripped to shirtsleeves the Boggart grows and grows--not a smooth, ghostly resizing like the Enlarge Person spell but a Jeckyll-esque ripping and popping of muscles, stretching and tearing shirt and britches, until they are a grotesque muscled form the size of a Bugbear.
Usually in this scenario, the Boggart will take his sweet time displaying his jacked form, flexing and posturing, and belting out things like, "how d'ye like me now!?" "bet ye feel a dem fool fer accostin' a gentlemen about his way!" "Ye jest had t'push me, didn't ye? Y'jest keep pushin' and pushin' jest like all t'udders! Well not this time!" and other aggrieved nonsense. Every Boggart thinks he is the most put-upon person in the world and that their lashing out is well deserved by whoever gets it. You could say their endless wandering is one long, fuming walk, ostensibly to calm themselves down but really rehearsing an eternity of grievances.
The thing is that Boggarts won't stop short of murdering their victims. Beating them senseless and throwing them off a cliff or ripping out their hearts are all good ends to an encounter. Boggarts will make a faint show of respecting the Fairy Courts if they have to, but any crime they can get away with will be indulged in. Occassionally a Boggart comes to visit some luckless family. If they know what he is they can prolong their lives a little by inviting him in and showing overweaning deference, putting him at the head of their table, etc. but eventually he will find some excuse to punch them all to death, and then he'll go through their wardrobe and take what he likes.
Some Boggarts are further gone even than that. They dispense with the language and the perfunctory justification. They just kill, and usually they stay in their monstrous form all the time. The term "bugbear" originally described these creatures, who would haunt neighborhoods, slipping into wealthy homes and eating the children in their beds. It was much more satisfying to let the parents live and discover their son or daughter as a pile of regurgitated bones the next morning. Modern Boggarts act like these were some bad apples who went too far, and that as civilized members of Fairykind they repudiate such violence, which to be fair was only directed at Men anyway, but nobody buys that.
Amazingly, some Fairy Courts actually tolerate Boggarts, although certainly nobody likes them. This is because where they are accepted, Boggarts virtually always direct their violence outwards from the community, namely at Men. Boggarts loath Men to their core, because Men just look like a big stupid version of Fairies with big stupid faces and put on airs like they own everything like, what are they thinking, they just put some sticks together and now they own all this pasture? According to who? Where do they get the nerve? And they make all this milk and jerky and silk hats and other fine things but just pass it around among themselves even though they're all Johnny-Come-Latelys? Seriously the only question is why somebody hasn't blown their houses all over and cracked open their heads yet. Occasionally you get a Boggart who hangs around the Court so long he even puts on airs like he's some kind of courtier, and tries to talk like Richard Attenborough, but this cracks the second something annoys them, and then they have to go back to the Land of Men to blow off steam.
The worst though is when Boggarts come 'round to Leprechaun neighborhoods. Because Boggarts have a way of taking over Leprechaun gangs---it involves repeated beatings and cowing displays, and a lot of goading the Leprechauns to do worse and worse "pranks." Like sure, open that guy's barn doors and let the cows out, but if you know what would be really funny is if that snot-nosed little brat boy of his was sitting in front of the doors when it happened. Because what's he going to do, spank the cow??
All too often the Leprechauns start buying into the Boggart's way of seeing things (Boggarts are all old, right, so they must know something), and then a campaign of terror can really start. With 4-8 Leprechauns backing him a Boggart might make a bid for becoming the Fairy Lord of a Forest, smashing all the poor Pixies' houses and evicting Brownies from their burrows unless they start talking tribute. It gets really bad if there's a human community nearby---the only reason Boggarts will leave a human community standing if they manage to seize power is that it's funny to keep stringing them along with hope that no, next year I won't kill anyone if your tribute's just a little bigger, really!
Fairies and Religion
Cold iron will kill the shit out of any Fey right quickly, but even ordinary old iron makes Fairies uncomfortable to say the least. Nasty rashes, quaking and sweats, they react to the stuff as if it were radioactive. But Fairies have another weakness, namely icons of the Saints.
It doesn't matter if the Fairy is good of heart or black as coal. They can scarcely look at let alone go near representations of the Saints and the Godhead. They can handle effigies of the Old Gods a little better, but still aren't fans.
A Fairy who looks directly at an icon or image of a Saint is shaken for 10 rounds. A Fairy luckless enough to touch one, or a book of holy scripture, is burned for 1d4 damage and sickened for 10 rounds, and must make a DC 15 Will save or flee to a safe distance from the religious object.
This is mostly a problem for Brownies who want to be helpful, "good tenants" to their unwitting human hosts, but have problems looking up at the icon on the wall. Mostly they just train themselves to keep their eyes down and not look at it, although a Brownie with spellcasting class levels might, I don't know, combine Invisibility and Remote Hand (I forget the actual spell name) and disapparate the icon for as long as they need to work.
As long as a Fairy is unaware that they are close to a religious image, they're fine. However this doesn't apply to iron, which they can sense with a twinge in their guts.
Likewise, Fairies cannot approach consecrated ground. The lost saints' tombs and shrines of the Eastwylde are still, after 500 years, anathema to them, treated as warily as the remaining sinks of Wild Magic. They would certainly never think of going near a Temple or Shrine that was being actively used.
So what's the deal with them and the Saints? It seems like whatever empowers the destiny of man has a real hate-on for the Fairy Folk. Like they don't belong in his plan. Wherever Man settles, he builds shrines, entombing the bodies of holy men inside and consecrating the stones in their name, raising up high towers to please the eye of god. This is ground forever lost to the Fairies. Whatever is given in His name they can never take back. There is no countermeasure to this. Even if they go on the warpath and slay Men left and right, Fairies can't "win" territory back from God. They can only lose. This makes even the kindliest fairies not fans of Man as a whole, though individual people they can like well enough (especially the irreligious). Good Fairies understand that "your God is a shithead" is kind of a rude thing to say and just try to avoid the subject of religion with Men as best they can. In fact, those enslaved/raised by Pixies at a young age rarely ever feel quite comfortable in a house of the saints ever again. They usually settle on some gently compromising position like, "the beauty of nature is the greatest Temple of all and it surrounds us already. Why worship in some house when we're so much closer to Him out here?"
So, that's Fairies. Good, bad, mostly just annoying. Common wisdom is that you're better off never meeting them at all, but stay polite if you do. Don't eat their food, give them what they ask for, stay out of the woods, and pray to the Saints; keep an icon on your wall and a pair of shears under your pillow and you should be alright. Although Fairy-folk don't seem to have an infinite lifespan (Pixies live only a little longer than humans, Brownies certainly age and die, the other three breeds are more mysterious in their ways), they scarcely seem to notice the passing of years nor understand how time can matter so much to humans. Their lives are hazy as the submerged world from which they came; they would rather feast and play and fight and fuck than keep to a calendar. Cosmogenic questions of good and evil they seem to miss entirely---stuck in a past that is now only a dream which settles over the wild and deep places sometimes, ever retreating, soon to be gone forever.
Pixies, Leprechauns and Brownies are the three common types. Boggarts and Redcaps are the less-talked about, much less funny cousins to these three varieties of Fey.
Pixies (AL: CN)
Pixies are the most numerous---the Eastwylde has a population in the hundreds, at least. They have what comes closest to a real society, with leaders, shepherds, weavers and other specialized roles. Essentially, Pixie society is stratified into the commoners and the Gentry. The main difference is that Pixie commoners live in large tumulous mounds like ant hives (almost all of which are obscured by forest), while Gentry live in houses painstakingly modeled after the latest human architectural fashions, built into the trunk of a living tree with its rooftops among the branches. Likewise, commoners dress in simple wool and linen garb, while Gentry use magic or any other means to dress in miniature approximation of the latest human fashions.
No pixies have appeared in the game so far, but you can bet every time the party's ventured into the forest they've been watched carefully.
Pixie commoners are organized into clans, with each clan living in one mound. It may seem odd for winged creatures to spend so much time underground but they don't seem to mind. They festoon their burrows with tiny oilskin lanterns and hang enough holly and pine to sweeten the subterranean air. Pixies may be only 18" high--the size of a doll, perhaps---but they need to eat, and they keep chickens just like everybody else. Perfectly normal chickens, who have to be led out from underground each day and then watched carefully as they amble about their pens. This is the job of the youngest and lowest ranking Pixies, but they take the job seriously----if you see what appears to be a lost chicken wandering in the woods, leave it alone. Additionally, the pixies have bred a species of dwarf sheep from which they get their fleece and wool. Humans frequently mistake these sheep for lost lambs wandering in the woods and become sheep-stealers without realizing it.
One of the most important things about Pixies is that they cast their spells primarily through archery, which is both a means of communication and an obsessive past-time to them. Pixies imbue their will into the arrows they launch. These tiny arrows---more like long needles, really---cast whatever spell they want on the struck target. Obviously, it's no good to cast, say, confusion, on a dead man so Pixies are really good at shooting people in usually nonfatal body parts. In fact, skilled pixies can plug a hapless commoner two dozen times before he is even in danger of bleeding out. One of their most important spells is Charm Monster, which allows them to befriend any beast or man they strike with their darts. Thus pixies hunt, not necessarily for food, but often for new friends and pets. Their burrows are typically guarded by charmed badgers, who probably have magic fang and a few other basic enchantments ready to go.
Pixies are vaguely brythonic in origin and if you crack open any ancient history book about Britain you should find a bunch of ready-to-use names. Caradog, Cunobelin, Admindios, Gwydyros, sure (One of the few problems is a lack of female names in the sources but, like, just stick -etica at the end and you're probably safe. Like Caradetica, Gwydyretica). Gaulish and modern Welsh and Breton names should be close enough for government work.
Common pixies decorate themselves and make fastening toggles with fangs and bits of horn and bone and wear cloaks and hats of fleece in Winter, of woven leaves in Spring and Summer. They paint spirals and celtic knots in blue woad on everything, including their faces in wartime. Since metal is abhorrent to them they officially rebuke it and only use bone and flint for arrowheads, but the truth is every pixie has a pouch of a few nails or other iron bits which they might make into particularly dangerous arrows for a particularly hated rival. Pixie clans go to war with each other all the time, but real fights only happen between two individuals who really hate each other.
Pixies not only enslave animals to be their guards and cattle, they enslave men to be their, uh, slaves. Actually, common pixies do this way more than Gentry, because more than anything they abhor the drudgery of labor, while Gentry families pride themselves on not being so lazy. It is rare for them to enslave anyone long-term: when slaves are taken it is because they were a target of convenience (usually lost in the woods), or one of the youngest/lowest-ranking Pixies has some particularly odious task such as a long journey and wants to fob it off. In such cases they may just find any old human, shoot him in the ass with a charm arrow, and say something like, "dear friend, would you do me the great kindness of taking this important letter to such-and-such down the road?" The poor human might find himself bewitched by the addressee of the missive as soon as he finally arrives, sent back with a simple message such as "we do not appreciate solicitors!" This kind of incidental/accidental happening is how Pixie slavery works and slaves usually are forgotten/reprieved/escape after a few chores.
Of course, younger Pixies usually can't cast charm spells that last long. What often happens is the spell wears off when the human is halfway through his errand, and he is often left in a state of confusion as to why he was doing what he was just doing. Human peasants, of course, conflate this with perfectly ordinary forgetfulness--like when you come into a room to get something and immediately forget what it was, if you're some salt of the earth type you'll often go "confounded pixies!"
Sometimes humans get enslaved longer term. Usually it's attractive and unmarried young women, just one more reason for farmers to lock up their daughters at night. If a human is "taken on as help" by Pixies for a longer term, they are often shrank down to be of better use. A fully-grown human in a Pixie burrow usually isn't much good except as a doorjamb. Gentry almost always shrink their humans down to Pixie size (this requires a higher-level version of Reduce Person), but some cheaper ones might leave them at Halfling-size, which is still awkwardly big for a burrow or treehouse.
Slaves of the gentry are always house-servants, working in the kitchens inside the brick foot of the house (being built into treetrunks, these houses are always quite vertically, usually 12 feet tall with 3-4 stories). Obviously working in a kitchen in a tree is a precarious job which is why the little ovens and stoves are carefully built into brickwork. This makes the kitchens of a Pixie Gentleman hellish hot. Human nurses frequently tell tales of naughty children taken by the Pixies and put into the kitchen, forced to bake "the squire's" bread in heat and smoke like hell until they pass out and fall into the oven which, of course, was what the vile Pixie wanted all along ("now along with the bread comes the roast!" is the punchline to these stories). In real life any Pixie Gentleman who did this would be a sociopathic monster among his own kind---but who knows what the Gentry do in their big ornate houses?
However, the truth of enslaved ("adopted") human children is nothing like these nursery tales. It does happen that sometimes a Pixie---common or genteel--gets the idea to kidnap a human child and raise them as a full-time servant. The kid is usually treated with much condescension, since humans can't fly and are ridiculously clumsy; men are just sort of inherently comical to Pixies. Most Pixies can't really stomach cruelty to a child any more than you or I can, and such servants are treated reasonably and often released when they get old enough to start really missing other humans. There are quite a few ordinary people in the border country who spent one or two years as a servant of the Pixies, with experiences ranging from the harrowing to the pleasant.
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| The only picture specifically of a pixie I've ever liked |
Almost always, Pixie Gentry cultivate a beehive on one of the branches of their tree. They obtain massive amounts of honey and put it on everything: baking it into cakes, brewing mead, spreading it on toast, etc. This honey is the absolute property of the Gentry, and often used as a means to cajole the commoners into doing something for a Gentleman (which task they may well then kick down to a hapless human). Genteel Pixies get along fabulously with bees, because they frequently wear clothes with beestripes (they cover a lot of their shit in stylized stripes just like commoners do with spirals) which means they practically look like bees themselves. They often walk around with a bevy of bees crawling all over them, the fuzzy little dears being the size of a tiny toy dog in comparison perhaps. The noise of this is incredible and a little frightening to shrunk-down servants.
Of course, Pixie Gents utilize archery just as much as their common kin, and are usually better at it (notwithstanding they always have much fancier, more powerful composite bows). They also carry special swords, never of metal but typically a length of thornbush or nettle, carefully stiffened and sharpened, with its prickles bristling off the "blade." When two Pixie Gents are going to duel, as a mark of station and bravery, they prefer to swing these "stings" at one another while spinning around in a flashy midair melee. They sting like hell without inflicting serious injury, which makes them excellent dueling weapons and prods for recalcitrant slaves.
You might assume the Gentry are the leaders of Pixie society, but really the Gentry and Commons are like two wholly different societies. Gentry families are usually just 4-6 individuals plus servants and get their social lives from parties thrown at so-and-so's house, or special balls held in such-and-such glade. Commoner clans have their own internal leadership structure, always led by a patriarchal elder, who deals with the Gentry on behalf of his people more in the way of negotiation than deference.
In theory, if the Pixies were to ever go to war, all the clans would get together under the leadership of their hereditary squires, who would assemble before the King of the Forest in their leaf armor, perhaps riding specially bred war-pigeons. Nobody could even imagine this happening in modern times, especially in the Eastwylde where there hasn't been a King of the Forest in 500 years.
Brownies (AL: CG)
None of the other Fairy Folk like the Brownies. They're such brown nosers. Always cozying up to Men. Living in barn lofts, cellars and cabinets. Mending shoes, pans, doorhandles, and always respectfully retreating with the dawn, not looking for so much as a thank-you---just a bowl of milk and crushed chestnuts for me, thank-you ma'm--don't they know that Fairies are supposed to be feared and respected by mortalkind? Where do they get off toadying like that, letting the whole side down??
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| Smug little bastard |
Right, so nobody likes Brownies. Brownies don't live in the forest, because the tougher and meaner Fairies would make game of them, but they don't all necessarily squat in human houses either. Most live on the border of the forest, usually in a little one-room burrow beneath an old stump or mossy stone. Brownies are vaguely related to Gnomes, who are inclined to the earth element, so they're very comfortable in a subterranean hollow that would be claustrophobic to anyone else. If the burrow is home to multiple generations it might be expanded to something like a little cabin, with a rabbit chamber and a reading nook. Brownies are, as a rule, the most unassuming, mild-mannered cornpone little motherfuckers on earth. Other Fairies find them absolutely gratingly pleasant, like they have no pride at all.
Brownies like doing things for people, and they're also very good at it. They're not creatively inclined, but they can fix just about anything, of whatever material. In fact, a brownie just has to hold an object in his hands and study it for a while, and they'll sort of absorb the essence of it and have an epiphany as to how, if at all possible, they might fix a thing. For example, a Brownie who had never tinkered in his life might hold an iron pan for a minute and then take up a hammer and beat the dents out of it as though he'd been apprenticed to the task all his life. Likewise with stitchery, cobbling, gardening, whatever. They can't make new things (or they only can with great difficulty) but they can repair almost anything.
You would think they would just come out in the open and be welcomed by human society. But Brownies are smart enough to understand that, inevitably, humans would try to take advantage of their good intentions. It's better to just keep the relationship simple and indirect. That way the Brownies have a use and the humans get their stuff fixed---everybody's happy, nobody's hurt. Brownies are only a little shorter than Halflings and could be mistaken for them quite easily though, so who knows how many adventurous young brownies walk out in the open in Halfling or mixed towns?
Brownie society, such as it is, is laid back and pleasant. They either live solitary lives or with
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| BASTARD I SAY |
The other thing about Brownies is they all carry swords and, at the end of the day they're ready to throw down. Like, Pixies stick to bows and Leprechauns to clubs, because while they're more ready to use violence, using metal is a level of hardcore they don't like to go to. If a Brownie needs to settle some shit though he's going to be pretty dead serious about it. They have no ego but they do have a strong sense of decency, and aren't the toughest Fairies but will always do the right thing. Another genre of Fairy Tales is the one about the brave little brownie who stepped in to save a maiden from an Ogre. Usually the Brownie ends up a smear on the Ogre's fist, which is a lesson to teach kids that you can't succeed just through good intentions or something.
I have no idea what Brownies would call themselves. Probably gentle nature names like Willow, Ashwhite, uh.... Heath? Whatever. Let's be honest these dudes are a little boring, and they'll probably just adopt halfling/human names.
Leprechauns (AL: CN)
Leprechauns could almost be Brownies---they're the same size. But while Brownies are proportionate and can be attractive like halflings, Leprechauns are misshappen, with enormous heads, stooped shoulders and twisted legs (that in no way impinges their strength or speed). Really, each Leprechaun's proportions and features are quite unique, which is to say that each Leprechaun is ugly in his own unique way. If there are lady leprechauns no one's ever seen one. Maybe Leprechauns are just an adolescent phase Brownie Boys go through.
The best way to describe Leprechauns is that they are punk-asses. They are jackasses, and they are punks. They're greedy, territorial and clannish, but also they love doing stupid reckless shit to impress their friends. Pin the tail on the Hill Giant, steal a water-wheel and try to keep it spinning downstream, tie your friend to a treebranch while he's sleeping and smear his face with honey, etc. Fortunately for Leprechauns they are shockingly tough, or at least resilient to blunt force trauma.
Not every Leprechaun guards a pot of gold. That's a story they spread around to troll humans. Actually Leprechauns themselves aren't sure if any of them has a pot of gold, but they're always sort of suspicious that one of them might, if they could just find the bastard and shake it out of him.
Leprechauns always dress well, or at least flashy. They copy human fashions although they are often centuries out of date or appropriated from weird and obscure cultures, or often a bizarre mix and match in garish colors. They actually do not like green or colors that blend in with the natural environment, they want to stand out. Hideous as they are, they go to great lengths to cultivate unique styles of facial hair (and occasionally their copious body hair). They form associations, or gangs, based on neighborhoods which are hidden to humans but are clearly marked all over the forests, usually with a Fairy Circle (of mushrooms, stones etc.) demarcating a Leprechaun's yard.
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| That sick cloak/jacket on the right is I imagine the height of Leprechaun fashion |
I haven't even talked about Fairy Circles yet so I guess I will here---Fairy Circles are reputedly gateways to other worlds and sometimes they are, but more frequently they're just the Fairy version of boundary stones, like a fence around your yard. Like a Pixie gentleman will have a ring of mushrooms around the giant gnarled oak he lives in, or a ring of mushrooms will crown the top of a Pixie tumulus, or there will be a semicircle of mushrooms spread around the stump a Brownie lives in. Fairy Circles basically just mean "I live here (get lost)." Leprechaun gangs usually consist of 4-6 individuals whose Fairy Circles happen to be fairly close. Like boys from the same neighborhood they fight constantly but always close ranks against outsiders (anybody from outside their tiny district of the woods).
Individually leprechauns are just surly little men, but in gangs they can be terrors. They love to get blitzed on berry wine and white lightning and "roam around the woods looking for fights." (A fight usually consists of finding the nearest Brownie and shoving/ridiculing him until he cries). The common story is that Men (or other mortals) who blunder into a Leprechaun "neighborhood" will be expected to present a "gift" to "the lords" because that's only manners. Indeed Leprechauns shake people down for their valuables constantly; they'll take money but soon forget about it and leave it somewhere. But fine clothes or magic items are what they really prize. They are always looking to extravagate their wardrobe and they can read magic easily. As mentioned, intimidation is a favorite tactic if they're in a gang, but individually or together Leprechauns love to trick and confound Men and take great pride in doing this. They are capable of powerful illusionary magic and will go to elaborate lengths to confuse a Man so bad he doesn't know what's up from his right. Convincing a guy he's drowning and then going "quick, throw me your [coin pouch/nice hat/magic sword] and I'll throw you a rope!" is a favorite (the punchline is tossing a coiled rope into the guy's face once you let the illusion fade). Just imagine a million mean jokes of that nature.
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| Imagine these guys 3' tall with big heads, that's a roaming Leprechaun Gang |
Leprechauns as a rule carry sticks, but sometimes one makes a "punch" from carved knucklebones complete with nasty enchantments like woozify or slurrinate (confuse and slow; Leprechauns have their own better names for spells). One thing everybody knows is that Leprechauns are jerks but they will never actually kill anybody (this is actually more of a risk with Pixies who might kill you accidentally; Leprechauns have a much better idea of what they're doing when they handle mortals). If you're too wise to their routines they may just beat the shit out of you and leave your bruised hide back at the edge of the forest, though.
Leprechauns aren't all bad. They will stick up for their mates. They won't inflict more cruelty on a humiliated victim. They may be spontaneously kind, to children, forest hermits, the lost or wretched.
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| Ladies, all this could be yours |
Leprechaun names are long and complicated and prone to change with their mood. They are usually comprised of medieval Irish conventions (so Brendan Og Cailean rather than Brendan O'Colin) plus word salad. Really just invent something that sounds goofy. Here are the Leprechaun names I've used so far: Tyrnaut Fitz Tyrnaut; Clontarf Mac Cock-Whistle; Peevish Thurible; Boykin Creakly; and Kelly Kelly Kelly.
Yes, when I play Leprechauns at a table I put on the worst 30's Hollywood-style brogue that I can. It's not offensive, Leprechauns are supposed to be horrible!
Redcaps (AL: NE)
If Leprechauns are the rudeboys of the Fairy World, Redcaps are the lone nuts. Seriously, murder is their whole thing. There is no Redcap culture. Even other Fairies don't know how many there are, if they reproduce or if there's just a certain number of insane immortal killers wandering the world. Nobody knows why Redcaps kill. They target Beast, Man and Fairy alike, leave no explanations and usually no survivors.
The story goes that they are a Vengeance from the Lost World (A Hate From Old Times, if you will). Fairies know, vaguely, that they used to inhabit some other world before they came to this one, and that world was destroyed, and the Gnomes had something to do with it which is why they're not counted among the various Folks anymore. Some fairies say the Redcaps are a holdover from that world, a weapon that was unleashed and stalks its prey still, following a mandate that no longer has a source or a purpose. But maybe that's just a story. Redcaps don't talk, but they do laugh---a noise nobody who survives an attack will ever forget.
Redcaps would be about the size of gnomes if they stood straight, but they're bent like old men, which they resemble. They have twisted little legs and long apelike arms knotty with muscle. Their trepezial muscles are jacked and they have thick, trunklike necks that jut their wan, sunken faces forward. They have long white beards, always silky smooth, and long white hair, also straight, flowing back from under the long red wool stocking caps they wear. Other than the bright cap they usually wear dull brown rags, clothes long worn from centuries(?) of skulking and wandering, sometimes concealing cloaks. Redcaps' eyes are huge, like an owl's, with little dead black pupils in a sea of white. Under a beaklike nose their mouths break open to display long, yellow angler-teeth which seem to project forward a little whenever their lips pull back. They carry long scythes (man-sized) which they seem to be able to pull from nowhere at all, and wield with speed and ferocity.
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| You'll never improve on the MMII picture |
Some say the reason Redcaps don't talk is their face isn't their real face---the real face is on the top of their skull, under their cap. But survivors of Redcap attacks say that's just a stupid fable, because they've seen Redcaps doff their caps to dip in the blood of their victims, and beneath was just a bald crown. Redcaps pause to dip their caps in the blood of a fresh kill, always, which is why their caps are always bright red, and how some manage to escape them.
Redcaps hide in all kinds of places you'd never expect, but places any child would suspect too. Under stairs, beds, in cabinets, in wells, under piles of hay, under a sick calf, in mother's chaplet. They wander with seemingly no preference between wilderness, countryside and towns. They are not only shaped like apes but just as strong and can leap high enough to catch the eaves of most roofs. Sometimes they won't use their scythes but bite with those oversized teeth which are iron-strong, and lap up gushing blood from their dying victim.
Redcaps don't exactly work together, but it's surprising how often two or three might independently choose the same place for a murder. If two Redcaps encounter each other by chance, they silently doff their caps, and continue on with their grim work. Once everyone in the immediate vicinity is dead, they retreat back into the shadows. Of course there are plenty of murderers among Men so Redcaps are rarely suspected, but among Fairies, a discovered murder almost always means Redcaps.
It is possible for a Wizard to lure out a Redcap with tobbaco and bloody beef (and, a recent discovery, chocolate), then if they are powerful enough to overawe the creature, take it as a familiar. Redcaps make excellent (and perhaps more importantly, intimidating) bodyguards in some wizards' opinion. It's said that with some work a wizard can make his Redcap familiar talk, although what they might have to say is known only to those wizards.
Boggarts (AL: CE)
Boggarts look like Leprechauns aged about 40 years---in other words they look like twisted, misshappen little old men rather than boistrous brutes or ugly coxcombes. They dress well but usually in dour and concealing cloaks or mantles with broad caps. They wander roads quite openly and fearlessly in broad daylight, and but also up mountain or forest paths as if on some world-spanning errand only they know. Wherever a Boggart encounters someone, it's likely to lead to trouble, as Boggarts are both wicked and quite sensitive, which is a terrible combination.
Boggarts are sensitive about everything---their age and ugliness, their height, their clothes, the weather--it's extraordinarily easy to offend one. That's when the Boggart whips off his hat and cloak, face reddening and growls "now ye've done it!" Stripped to shirtsleeves the Boggart grows and grows--not a smooth, ghostly resizing like the Enlarge Person spell but a Jeckyll-esque ripping and popping of muscles, stretching and tearing shirt and britches, until they are a grotesque muscled form the size of a Bugbear.
Usually in this scenario, the Boggart will take his sweet time displaying his jacked form, flexing and posturing, and belting out things like, "how d'ye like me now!?" "bet ye feel a dem fool fer accostin' a gentlemen about his way!" "Ye jest had t'push me, didn't ye? Y'jest keep pushin' and pushin' jest like all t'udders! Well not this time!" and other aggrieved nonsense. Every Boggart thinks he is the most put-upon person in the world and that their lashing out is well deserved by whoever gets it. You could say their endless wandering is one long, fuming walk, ostensibly to calm themselves down but really rehearsing an eternity of grievances.
The thing is that Boggarts won't stop short of murdering their victims. Beating them senseless and throwing them off a cliff or ripping out their hearts are all good ends to an encounter. Boggarts will make a faint show of respecting the Fairy Courts if they have to, but any crime they can get away with will be indulged in. Occassionally a Boggart comes to visit some luckless family. If they know what he is they can prolong their lives a little by inviting him in and showing overweaning deference, putting him at the head of their table, etc. but eventually he will find some excuse to punch them all to death, and then he'll go through their wardrobe and take what he likes.
Some Boggarts are further gone even than that. They dispense with the language and the perfunctory justification. They just kill, and usually they stay in their monstrous form all the time. The term "bugbear" originally described these creatures, who would haunt neighborhoods, slipping into wealthy homes and eating the children in their beds. It was much more satisfying to let the parents live and discover their son or daughter as a pile of regurgitated bones the next morning. Modern Boggarts act like these were some bad apples who went too far, and that as civilized members of Fairykind they repudiate such violence, which to be fair was only directed at Men anyway, but nobody buys that.
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| A boggarts' monstrous form closely resembles a bugbear and was the original meaning of the name. |
Amazingly, some Fairy Courts actually tolerate Boggarts, although certainly nobody likes them. This is because where they are accepted, Boggarts virtually always direct their violence outwards from the community, namely at Men. Boggarts loath Men to their core, because Men just look like a big stupid version of Fairies with big stupid faces and put on airs like they own everything like, what are they thinking, they just put some sticks together and now they own all this pasture? According to who? Where do they get the nerve? And they make all this milk and jerky and silk hats and other fine things but just pass it around among themselves even though they're all Johnny-Come-Latelys? Seriously the only question is why somebody hasn't blown their houses all over and cracked open their heads yet. Occasionally you get a Boggart who hangs around the Court so long he even puts on airs like he's some kind of courtier, and tries to talk like Richard Attenborough, but this cracks the second something annoys them, and then they have to go back to the Land of Men to blow off steam.
The worst though is when Boggarts come 'round to Leprechaun neighborhoods. Because Boggarts have a way of taking over Leprechaun gangs---it involves repeated beatings and cowing displays, and a lot of goading the Leprechauns to do worse and worse "pranks." Like sure, open that guy's barn doors and let the cows out, but if you know what would be really funny is if that snot-nosed little brat boy of his was sitting in front of the doors when it happened. Because what's he going to do, spank the cow??
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| Apparently in proper D&D Boggarts are... giant frogs? That's weird. |
All too often the Leprechauns start buying into the Boggart's way of seeing things (Boggarts are all old, right, so they must know something), and then a campaign of terror can really start. With 4-8 Leprechauns backing him a Boggart might make a bid for becoming the Fairy Lord of a Forest, smashing all the poor Pixies' houses and evicting Brownies from their burrows unless they start talking tribute. It gets really bad if there's a human community nearby---the only reason Boggarts will leave a human community standing if they manage to seize power is that it's funny to keep stringing them along with hope that no, next year I won't kill anyone if your tribute's just a little bigger, really!
Fairies and Religion
Cold iron will kill the shit out of any Fey right quickly, but even ordinary old iron makes Fairies uncomfortable to say the least. Nasty rashes, quaking and sweats, they react to the stuff as if it were radioactive. But Fairies have another weakness, namely icons of the Saints.
It doesn't matter if the Fairy is good of heart or black as coal. They can scarcely look at let alone go near representations of the Saints and the Godhead. They can handle effigies of the Old Gods a little better, but still aren't fans.
A Fairy who looks directly at an icon or image of a Saint is shaken for 10 rounds. A Fairy luckless enough to touch one, or a book of holy scripture, is burned for 1d4 damage and sickened for 10 rounds, and must make a DC 15 Will save or flee to a safe distance from the religious object.
This is mostly a problem for Brownies who want to be helpful, "good tenants" to their unwitting human hosts, but have problems looking up at the icon on the wall. Mostly they just train themselves to keep their eyes down and not look at it, although a Brownie with spellcasting class levels might, I don't know, combine Invisibility and Remote Hand (I forget the actual spell name) and disapparate the icon for as long as they need to work.
As long as a Fairy is unaware that they are close to a religious image, they're fine. However this doesn't apply to iron, which they can sense with a twinge in their guts.
Likewise, Fairies cannot approach consecrated ground. The lost saints' tombs and shrines of the Eastwylde are still, after 500 years, anathema to them, treated as warily as the remaining sinks of Wild Magic. They would certainly never think of going near a Temple or Shrine that was being actively used.
So what's the deal with them and the Saints? It seems like whatever empowers the destiny of man has a real hate-on for the Fairy Folk. Like they don't belong in his plan. Wherever Man settles, he builds shrines, entombing the bodies of holy men inside and consecrating the stones in their name, raising up high towers to please the eye of god. This is ground forever lost to the Fairies. Whatever is given in His name they can never take back. There is no countermeasure to this. Even if they go on the warpath and slay Men left and right, Fairies can't "win" territory back from God. They can only lose. This makes even the kindliest fairies not fans of Man as a whole, though individual people they can like well enough (especially the irreligious). Good Fairies understand that "your God is a shithead" is kind of a rude thing to say and just try to avoid the subject of religion with Men as best they can. In fact, those enslaved/raised by Pixies at a young age rarely ever feel quite comfortable in a house of the saints ever again. They usually settle on some gently compromising position like, "the beauty of nature is the greatest Temple of all and it surrounds us already. Why worship in some house when we're so much closer to Him out here?"
So, that's Fairies. Good, bad, mostly just annoying. Common wisdom is that you're better off never meeting them at all, but stay polite if you do. Don't eat their food, give them what they ask for, stay out of the woods, and pray to the Saints; keep an icon on your wall and a pair of shears under your pillow and you should be alright. Although Fairy-folk don't seem to have an infinite lifespan (Pixies live only a little longer than humans, Brownies certainly age and die, the other three breeds are more mysterious in their ways), they scarcely seem to notice the passing of years nor understand how time can matter so much to humans. Their lives are hazy as the submerged world from which they came; they would rather feast and play and fight and fuck than keep to a calendar. Cosmogenic questions of good and evil they seem to miss entirely---stuck in a past that is now only a dream which settles over the wild and deep places sometimes, ever retreating, soon to be gone forever.
Wednesday, February 8, 2017
NPC Adventurer - Dr. Wong King
Will be encountered on the highways of Gardenwall or Stormcrown or in the hill-roads passing through the Eastwylde. May be stopped at Last Stand Meadery in Mossgather or the Silver Dragon Inn in Grifflet. He is accompanied by the siblings Furio, Canio, and Gryffina (whose name is sort of a slurred devolution of Agrippina).
Dr. Wong is a traveler from the far east who has come to this continent to found a school for the martial arts. He wants someplace suitably remote and has chosen the frontier of the Shield Baronies as the perfect place. The doctor has already picked up two disciples from the port city where he entered the continent---the brothers Furio and Canio, two street toughs (both level 1 brawlers) who believe the portly doctor can turn them into great warriors. Traveling along is the brothers' older sister Gryffina (expert 2). Having taken care of the boys since they were all children, she continues now out of habit and Wong is happy to use her as cook, maid, pack mule and all-purpose dogsbody.
Doctor Wong takes his title from his expertise in the medical arts: his specialties being chiefly chiropractic therapy and herbatives (although as he is largely unfamiliar with the names of western flora this is now limited to the small supply of tinctures carried in his pack). He does that thing with the hot cups and also the needles. He has a bunch of crazy anatomical diagrams showing the chakras and spinal vertebrae in [Chinese]. He is technically a priest although the details are hazy and irrelevant since he is so far from the land of his gods, as he puts it. That little topknot is an actual thing Tao Priests wear. None of this really matters---he doesn't talk much about his own country and the people he travels with aren't curious.
Currently he has visited four of the six barons. Like everyone in the last 50 years he was denied a face to face meeting with Baroness Spellwise. He concluded that Baron Silas was too suspicious and grasping to permit an independent school of martial arts in his land. Baron Ogrebane seemed a good man, but unimaginative and slow to accept foreign ideas not in line with his Order of St. Justin's teachings. Lightning Van Hussel seemed too eager to look for trouble from the Eastwylde, still a young man eager for glory at heart. Dr. Wong is winding his way towards the courts of Baron Greatsword of Stormcrown and Baron Silvertongue of Gardenwall, in no particular hurry, stopping and interviewing just about everyone he meets---what sort of man is the baron, how safe is his territory, how permissive is he to the flow of ideas and the founding of new institutions, etcedera. By the way, one a scale of one to ten how interested would YOU be in mastering the arts of combat and inner perfection?
Incidentally, Furio and Canio are wanted men. It's a fact they were already somewhat notorious in the streets of their hometown as a pair of robbers, but Dr. Wong is far too kind to mention to strangers how he recruited the brothers after they made the mistake of trying to rob him. That's all water under the bridge, as far as the Doctor is concerned---part of becoming his disciples means their moral fortitude will improve along with their physical conditioning. For their part the brothers are fine spending a few years away from their hometown so long as they can return armed with the Deadly Arts of the East.
If Dr. Wong and his triad of followers are encountered, be sure to take the measure of how the PCs come across. If like mine they are bristling with weapons and grizzly trophies and basically look terrifying, the Doctor will urge his charges to hide somewhere by the road and pretend to be alone. He is confident enough in his skills to attempt to take on even a squadron of mounted men, but if pressed hard he may flee for a nearby copse or brush. He will fight to the death to protect the siblings, however. He is somewhat venal and lazy but ultimately Lawful Good. However unless your players are really unreasonable (.....) violence shouldn't break out---Doctor Wong will simply ask them the same questions he asks of everyone he meets, about their opinion of the local Baron and his governance, and perhaps about any monsters known to haunt the area. If they are friendly and it is approaching evening he may suggest combining camps. He carries a great supply of wine and is simultaneously generous and greedy with it. This could be a great excuse to surprise your players with a carousal roll in the middle of the woods.
If left to his own devices for long enough, Wong will eventually establish a foundation for his school somewhere in the Shield Baronies. More disciples of varying skill levels, including part-timers, will begin to appear and if a whole year passes without his interference the PCs may find their locality shifting pastiches from Lord of the Rings to Shaw Bros.
Dr. Wong King - Middle-Aged Human Monk (Unchained) 7 - Med. Humanoid | HD: 7d10+24 (59 hp) | Init: +5 | Spd: 40 ft (-10 fatass) | AC: 20 (+5 Dex, +3 Wis, +1 Class, +1 Dodge) Touch 20, FF 14 | BaB: +7 | CMB: +9 (+11 trip) | CMD: 24 (26 v. Trip) | Atks: Unarmed Strike +9 melee (1d8+2 x2 bludg) or MW hvy iron triple-section staff +9 melee (1d10+3 19-20/x2 bludg.), or acid-spray nozzle +11 touch 1d6/1 splash x2 acid, DC 12 Fort or blinded 1d4 rounds) | S/R: 5/5 ft | SA: Flurry of Blows, Stunning Fist (Fort DC 16), Ki Strike (as long as 1 pt in ki pool) treat unarmed as magic/cold iron/silver, Style Strike: Headbutt | SQ: Fvrd Class Monk (+3 HP/+1 ki pool), Heart of the Mountains (+2 Climb/Acrobatics on slopes), Ki Powers: High Jump, Ki Guardian; Evasion, Purity of Body, Still Mind | Svs: Fort +7, Ref +10, Will +5| Ablts: Str 14, Dex 20, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 16, Cha 12 | Ki Pool: 9 points
Skills (7/35) - Acrobatics +15* (+17* slope), Climb +10(+12 slope), Escape Artist +13, Heal +9(+11 first aid/treat illness), Kn. Religion +6, Kn. Nature +8, Perception +10, Ride +9, Stealth +13, Handle Animal +6, Survival (cc) +4
(*+18/+20 jump, always has running start)
Feats: Imp. Unarmed Strike (class), Dodge, Combat Expertise, Mobility, Imp. Trip, Spring Attack, Deflect Arrows, Whirlwind Attack
Traits: Iron Liver (+2 v. poison/drugs, +4 v. alcohol), Accelerated Drinker (quaff potion as move actn), Honored Fist (+1 ki pt)
Drawbacks: Fatass (-10 ft spd, Fort svs e. round to keep running after 10 rnds)
Equipment:Big skin of wine, two bottles of cheap choujiu, iron and gold 3-section staff. The gold is just a thin boss over good steelwork.
The staff has the heavy iron quality giving it a -1 to hit penalty. The sections are hollow and actually contain the connecting chains and fit together via grooves within the gold lips joining each section so you can turn the thing into a really heavy jangling quarterstaff if you want. At one end is a sculpted steel head in the shape of a frog's mouth. This head is set over a collapsible wood slider so you can grip it and pull it back to connect with the iron section---this opens the frog's mouth, and if you twist the head 90 degrees as you bring it back, it releases a puff of acid through a wire screen under the mouth, into the square directly in front of you. This abrasive compound has little chance of directly bringing someone down, but it can badly sting and momentarily blind an opponent.
Potions -
Bull's Str x1
Bear's End. x2
Cat's Grace x2
OMW +1 x3
Haste x1
Pint (16 oz.) of Wong's special eye-irritant acid. Each use eats up 1 oz.
Waterproof medical bag with medical chart scrolls, books, first aid gear and a couple glass jars of herbatives (mostly simple decongestants, also one powerful laxative).
NOTES
Feats
AC v AoOs moving 24 (26 Ct's Grc)
Cmbt Exprts up to -5 atk/+5 AC (dodge)
No AoO on trip; can mv, atk, mv up to 40' ttl
if not FF can negate 1 arrow/bolt hit for no dmg
can use FAA to atk every enemy in reach
Ki Powers
High Jump: +1/2 lvl jump, always rnng strt
Ki Guardian: immed. actn, spend ki pts = ppl effectd. If u & allies are in AoE or multiple target effect, they roll w/ur sv bonus - if they fail, u fail
Flurry - +9/+9 (+9/+9/+9 if 1pt in ki pool)
Fl Atk + Flurry - +9/+4/+9 (+9/+4/+9/+9)
--One of these is the style strike (Head Butt, 1 ki pt: CMB v. Target's CMD (-8v. non humanoids) - if successful, target staggered 1 rnd.
Bear's End. -+ 14 hp, Fort +9
Cat's Grace: AC 22, Ref +12, Init +7; acrobatics +17 (+21 jump), +19/+23 slope; escape artist +17, stealth +15
Bull's STR + OMW+1 + Haste :
Staff +13 (1d10+7)/Unarmed +12 (1d8+4)
Fl Atk + Flurry + Ki Pool + Haste + Bull's STR + OMW+1 :
+13/+8/+13/+13/+13 (1d10+7 staff & headbutt 1d8+4, CMB+11 to stagger)
Gryffina - Human Exp 2 (Med. Humanoid) | HD: 2d6+4 (10 hp) | Init: +0 | Spd: 30 ft | AC: 10 or 14 (can use big sack for cover) | BaB: +1 | CMB: +3 | CMD: 13 | Atks: iron skillet +4 melee d4+2 x2 bludg.) | SQ: Fvrd Class Expert (+2 hp), +1 skill pt/lvl | Svs: Fort +2, Ref +0, Will +4 | | Str 14, Dex 10, Con 14, Int 15, Wis 13, Cha 8
Feats - Endurance, Weapon Fcs (skillet)
Skills (2/18) - Profession (cook) +6, Profession (tailor) +6, craft (weaving & stitchery) +6, Kn. Local +6, Kn. Nature +7, Heal +9 (+2 kit), craft (dress & butcher) +6, Sense Motive +6, Climb +7, Appraise +6, Stealth (cc) +1, handle animal (cc) +0
Traits - Extraordinary strength. For purposes of lifting and dragging quadruple her strength score.
Equipment - Use your imagination on this one. She's basically carrying a well-stocked campsite on her back.
Furio - Human Brawler 2, Med. Humanoid | HD: 2d10+5 (15 hp) | Init: +1 | Spd: 30 ft/rnd | AC: 16 (+1 Dex, +4 mailshirt, +1 buckler), Touch 11, FF 15 | BaB: +2 | CMB: +5 | CMD: 16 | Atks: Arming sword |5 melee (1d8+3 19-20/x2 slash & pierce), or hunter's bow +3 ranged 60 ft (1d8 x3 pierce), or unarmed strike +5 melee (1d6+2 x2 bludg.) or shield bash +5 melee (1d6+2 x2 bludge) | S/R: 5/5 ft | SA: N/A | SQ: Fvrd class brawler (+1 hp/+1 skill), brawler's cunniing & martial training, martial flexibility (1 feat, st. actn), heart of the streets - +1 ref/AC adj. at least 2 allies, crowds not difficult terrain
Feats: Power Attack, Imp. Shield Bash, Combat Expertise, Imp. Unarmed Strike (class)
Skills (2/7) - Kn. Local +4, Climb +4*, Acrobatics +3*, Intimidate +6, Escape Artist +1*, Bluff (cc) +2
*-3 armor & shield chk pen.
Equipment: Mailshirt, arming sword, buckler, bow & 10 arrows, light traveling accouterments in pigskin bag
Canio - Human Brawler 1, Med. Humanoid | HD: 1d10+2 (7 hp) | Init: +2 | Spd: 30 ft/rnd | AC: 16 (+2 Dex, +1 dodge, +3 jack of plates) Touch 13, FF 13 | BaB: +1 | CMB: +3 | CMD: 15 | Atks: Unarmed Strike +3 melee (1d6+2 x2 bludg), spear +3 melee (1d8+2 x2 pierce), hunter's bow +3 ranged 60 ft (1d8 x3 pierce) | S/R: 5/5 ft | SA: N/A | SQ: Fvrd Class brawler (+1 hp), heartr of the streets, martial flexibility, martial training, brawler's cunning | Svs: Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +0 | Ablts: Str 14, Dex 15, Con 13, Int 08, Wis 10, Cha 12
Feats - Imp Unarmed Strike (class), Dodge, Mobility
Skills (1/3) - Acrobatics +5*, Climb +5*, Escape Artist +5*
*-1 armor chk pen.
Equipment: jack of plates over padded jacket, bow & 10 arrows, spear, light traveling accouterments in an old flour sack
ALSO NOTE - I derive HP for NPCs by just halving their HD max before adding Con bonus/fvrd class points etc. If you want your NPCs to be a little more surviveable probably change that.
 |
| Yes I cut off the top of the page and taped it to the bottom to get his feet in. |
Dr. Wong is a traveler from the far east who has come to this continent to found a school for the martial arts. He wants someplace suitably remote and has chosen the frontier of the Shield Baronies as the perfect place. The doctor has already picked up two disciples from the port city where he entered the continent---the brothers Furio and Canio, two street toughs (both level 1 brawlers) who believe the portly doctor can turn them into great warriors. Traveling along is the brothers' older sister Gryffina (expert 2). Having taken care of the boys since they were all children, she continues now out of habit and Wong is happy to use her as cook, maid, pack mule and all-purpose dogsbody.
Doctor Wong takes his title from his expertise in the medical arts: his specialties being chiefly chiropractic therapy and herbatives (although as he is largely unfamiliar with the names of western flora this is now limited to the small supply of tinctures carried in his pack). He does that thing with the hot cups and also the needles. He has a bunch of crazy anatomical diagrams showing the chakras and spinal vertebrae in [Chinese]. He is technically a priest although the details are hazy and irrelevant since he is so far from the land of his gods, as he puts it. That little topknot is an actual thing Tao Priests wear. None of this really matters---he doesn't talk much about his own country and the people he travels with aren't curious.
 |
| Gryffina. Shit-tier peasants don't get surnames. |
Incidentally, Furio and Canio are wanted men. It's a fact they were already somewhat notorious in the streets of their hometown as a pair of robbers, but Dr. Wong is far too kind to mention to strangers how he recruited the brothers after they made the mistake of trying to rob him. That's all water under the bridge, as far as the Doctor is concerned---part of becoming his disciples means their moral fortitude will improve along with their physical conditioning. For their part the brothers are fine spending a few years away from their hometown so long as they can return armed with the Deadly Arts of the East.
 |
| Until I can draw a proper picture of the brothers, this will suffice |
If left to his own devices for long enough, Wong will eventually establish a foundation for his school somewhere in the Shield Baronies. More disciples of varying skill levels, including part-timers, will begin to appear and if a whole year passes without his interference the PCs may find their locality shifting pastiches from Lord of the Rings to Shaw Bros.
Dr. Wong King - Middle-Aged Human Monk (Unchained) 7 - Med. Humanoid | HD: 7d10+24 (59 hp) | Init: +5 | Spd: 40 ft (-10 fatass) | AC: 20 (+5 Dex, +3 Wis, +1 Class, +1 Dodge) Touch 20, FF 14 | BaB: +7 | CMB: +9 (+11 trip) | CMD: 24 (26 v. Trip) | Atks: Unarmed Strike +9 melee (1d8+2 x2 bludg) or MW hvy iron triple-section staff +9 melee (1d10+3 19-20/x2 bludg.), or acid-spray nozzle +11 touch 1d6/1 splash x2 acid, DC 12 Fort or blinded 1d4 rounds) | S/R: 5/5 ft | SA: Flurry of Blows, Stunning Fist (Fort DC 16), Ki Strike (as long as 1 pt in ki pool) treat unarmed as magic/cold iron/silver, Style Strike: Headbutt | SQ: Fvrd Class Monk (+3 HP/+1 ki pool), Heart of the Mountains (+2 Climb/Acrobatics on slopes), Ki Powers: High Jump, Ki Guardian; Evasion, Purity of Body, Still Mind | Svs: Fort +7, Ref +10, Will +5| Ablts: Str 14, Dex 20, Con 16, Int 13, Wis 16, Cha 12 | Ki Pool: 9 points
Skills (7/35) - Acrobatics +15* (+17* slope), Climb +10(+12 slope), Escape Artist +13, Heal +9(+11 first aid/treat illness), Kn. Religion +6, Kn. Nature +8, Perception +10, Ride +9, Stealth +13, Handle Animal +6, Survival (cc) +4
(*+18/+20 jump, always has running start)
Feats: Imp. Unarmed Strike (class), Dodge, Combat Expertise, Mobility, Imp. Trip, Spring Attack, Deflect Arrows, Whirlwind Attack
Traits: Iron Liver (+2 v. poison/drugs, +4 v. alcohol), Accelerated Drinker (quaff potion as move actn), Honored Fist (+1 ki pt)
Drawbacks: Fatass (-10 ft spd, Fort svs e. round to keep running after 10 rnds)
Equipment:Big skin of wine, two bottles of cheap choujiu, iron and gold 3-section staff. The gold is just a thin boss over good steelwork.
The staff has the heavy iron quality giving it a -1 to hit penalty. The sections are hollow and actually contain the connecting chains and fit together via grooves within the gold lips joining each section so you can turn the thing into a really heavy jangling quarterstaff if you want. At one end is a sculpted steel head in the shape of a frog's mouth. This head is set over a collapsible wood slider so you can grip it and pull it back to connect with the iron section---this opens the frog's mouth, and if you twist the head 90 degrees as you bring it back, it releases a puff of acid through a wire screen under the mouth, into the square directly in front of you. This abrasive compound has little chance of directly bringing someone down, but it can badly sting and momentarily blind an opponent.
Potions -
Bull's Str x1
Bear's End. x2
Cat's Grace x2
OMW +1 x3
Haste x1
Pint (16 oz.) of Wong's special eye-irritant acid. Each use eats up 1 oz.
Waterproof medical bag with medical chart scrolls, books, first aid gear and a couple glass jars of herbatives (mostly simple decongestants, also one powerful laxative).
NOTES
Feats
AC v AoOs moving 24 (26 Ct's Grc)
Cmbt Exprts up to -5 atk/+5 AC (dodge)
No AoO on trip; can mv, atk, mv up to 40' ttl
if not FF can negate 1 arrow/bolt hit for no dmg
can use FAA to atk every enemy in reach
Ki Powers
High Jump: +1/2 lvl jump, always rnng strt
Ki Guardian: immed. actn, spend ki pts = ppl effectd. If u & allies are in AoE or multiple target effect, they roll w/ur sv bonus - if they fail, u fail
Flurry - +9/+9 (+9/+9/+9 if 1pt in ki pool)
Fl Atk + Flurry - +9/+4/+9 (+9/+4/+9/+9)
--One of these is the style strike (Head Butt, 1 ki pt: CMB v. Target's CMD (-8v. non humanoids) - if successful, target staggered 1 rnd.
Bear's End. -
Cat's Grace: AC 22, Ref +12, Init +7; acrobatics +17 (+21 jump), +19/+23 slope; escape artist +17, stealth +15
Bull's STR + OMW+1 + Haste :
Staff +13 (1d10+7)/Unarmed +12 (1d8+4)
Fl Atk + Flurry + Ki Pool + Haste + Bull's STR + OMW+1 :
+13/+8/+13/+13/+13 (1d10+7 staff & headbutt 1d8+4, CMB+11 to stagger)
Gryffina - Human Exp 2 (Med. Humanoid) | HD: 2d6+4 (10 hp) | Init: +0 | Spd: 30 ft | AC: 10 or 14 (can use big sack for cover) | BaB: +1 | CMB: +3 | CMD: 13 | Atks: iron skillet +4 melee d4+2 x2 bludg.) | SQ: Fvrd Class Expert (+2 hp), +1 skill pt/lvl | Svs: Fort +2, Ref +0, Will +4 | | Str 14, Dex 10, Con 14, Int 15, Wis 13, Cha 8
Feats - Endurance, Weapon Fcs (skillet)
Skills (2/18) - Profession (cook) +6, Profession (tailor) +6, craft (weaving & stitchery) +6, Kn. Local +6, Kn. Nature +7, Heal +9 (+2 kit), craft (dress & butcher) +6, Sense Motive +6, Climb +7, Appraise +6, Stealth (cc) +1, handle animal (cc) +0
Traits - Extraordinary strength. For purposes of lifting and dragging quadruple her strength score.
Equipment - Use your imagination on this one. She's basically carrying a well-stocked campsite on her back.
Furio - Human Brawler 2, Med. Humanoid | HD: 2d10+5 (15 hp) | Init: +1 | Spd: 30 ft/rnd | AC: 16 (+1 Dex, +4 mailshirt, +1 buckler), Touch 11, FF 15 | BaB: +2 | CMB: +5 | CMD: 16 | Atks: Arming sword |5 melee (1d8+3 19-20/x2 slash & pierce), or hunter's bow +3 ranged 60 ft (1d8 x3 pierce), or unarmed strike +5 melee (1d6+2 x2 bludg.) or shield bash +5 melee (1d6+2 x2 bludge) | S/R: 5/5 ft | SA: N/A | SQ: Fvrd class brawler (+1 hp/+1 skill), brawler's cunniing & martial training, martial flexibility (1 feat, st. actn), heart of the streets - +1 ref/AC adj. at least 2 allies, crowds not difficult terrain
Feats: Power Attack, Imp. Shield Bash, Combat Expertise, Imp. Unarmed Strike (class)
Skills (2/7) - Kn. Local +4, Climb +4*, Acrobatics +3*, Intimidate +6, Escape Artist +1*, Bluff (cc) +2
*-3 armor & shield chk pen.
Equipment: Mailshirt, arming sword, buckler, bow & 10 arrows, light traveling accouterments in pigskin bag
Canio - Human Brawler 1, Med. Humanoid | HD: 1d10+2 (7 hp) | Init: +2 | Spd: 30 ft/rnd | AC: 16 (+2 Dex, +1 dodge, +3 jack of plates) Touch 13, FF 13 | BaB: +1 | CMB: +3 | CMD: 15 | Atks: Unarmed Strike +3 melee (1d6+2 x2 bludg), spear +3 melee (1d8+2 x2 pierce), hunter's bow +3 ranged 60 ft (1d8 x3 pierce) | S/R: 5/5 ft | SA: N/A | SQ: Fvrd Class brawler (+1 hp), heartr of the streets, martial flexibility, martial training, brawler's cunning | Svs: Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +0 | Ablts: Str 14, Dex 15, Con 13, Int 08, Wis 10, Cha 12
Feats - Imp Unarmed Strike (class), Dodge, Mobility
Skills (1/3) - Acrobatics +5*, Climb +5*, Escape Artist +5*
*-1 armor chk pen.
Equipment: jack of plates over padded jacket, bow & 10 arrows, spear, light traveling accouterments in an old flour sack
ALSO NOTE - I derive HP for NPCs by just halving their HD max before adding Con bonus/fvrd class points etc. If you want your NPCs to be a little more surviveable probably change that.
PROVISIONAL HOUSERULES FOR MY CAMPAIGN
NEW HOUSERULES SHEET - Eastwylde 2/8/2017
1. LEVELING
Leveling up requires at least one week of rest and training even if you have enough XP to level. It is possible to level up multiple times over one of these rest periods if you have done enough/earned enough XP.
------What Counts as Resting?
No fighting, no hard travel, no sticking your nose into dangerous places (e.g anything we'd consider "adventuring.") Bar brawls and love-related imbroglios don't violate a rest period. Shopping, exploring a town/city, doing non-dangerous work (such as crafting an object or making a profession check) are all allowed.
2. INJURIES & HEALING
It is possible to sustain an injury via a critical hit or a called shot which exceeds a certain damage threshold. These can include broken limbs, punctured lungs, maiming or disfigurement, etc. The conditions of such injuries (reduced to half speed by an injured leg for example) can only be removed through a period of natural recovery (how much depending on the injury), even if magical healing restores hitpoints back to full. Lost body parts do not come back through rest, obviously.
---How Much Damage?
If a called shot removes at least 1/3 of a character's HP (doing 20 damage to a 60 HP character, for example) it will inflict an injury. Undirected critical hits have a 50% chance of inflicting some injury.
A night's rest heals Your Level + Your Con Mod of HP. Subtract this number from the damage that dealt you your injury to find out how long your injury will take to heal. For example, say you were hit on a called shot: leg by an ogre's club for 20 damage, more than 1/3 of your HP. You are level 3 and have a +2 Con modifier. You will have a bum leg for 15 days (20 - 5) and must avoid worsening the injury in that time.
---That Sounds Harsh, Fam
If you get really fucked up in a fight consider it an opportunity to chill out in town and make connections, win friends and influence people, craft that MW sword you've been wanting, etc. Not all of it has to be roleplayed through. I'm trying to slow the pace of the campaign down a little so not so much happens over so few days.
3. FILTH ACCRUATION
If a player character goes longer than ten days without washing or bathing while engaging in heavy activity (fighting, hiking, etc.) during that period, they gain one of the following conditions (1d4):
1. Flea Infested - You suffer a -2 penalty to concentration and endurance checks, as well as skill checks requiring time or patience (such as craft or disable device). Each night you spend in camp with others they must roll over 20% or acquire fleas from you.
2. Bronchial Congestion - Some bug is taking up residence in the inflamed mucus of your nose/throat/lungs. -2 Con penalty
3. Clothes/Armor Rotting - Fungus or bugs have taken up residence in your armor's padding or in your clothes. 1d4 damage to armor/outfit, will continue taking damage every two days until treated.
4. Untreated sores - your armor has creased your hide so heavily you now take a -2 Dex penalty and can only move as fast as a double move.
For every additional 10 days without hygiene, roll 1d3, then 1d2, then award yourself all four conditions and a special trophy from Papa Nurgle for being the grossest MFer ever.
How Do I Avoid This Embarrassing State?
Buy some soap and clean yourself at least once every 10 days. It's seriously in the basic equipment list. One cake of tallow soap (1 lb.) lasts for 100 uses. Alternatively, visit a public bath. Some inns will have baths as well. A quick clean usually costs 5 sp to 1 gp. Some cultures have alternate methods of cleaning themselves like mud baths or smoke baths.
If I Failed to Avoid This Embarrassing State, How Can I Get it Removed?
In case of rotting armor/clothes, visit an armorer or tailor to have it repaired. In case of the other three conditions, a visit to a doctor (or someone with training in the Heal skill) is in order. Many stores sell itching-powder and lozenges.
Should I use the public fountain in Stormcrown as a bath ever again?
If you want Swordwyte to robo-pulp your skull, sure.
4. INSECTS AND VERMIN
If you travel through dense forest or brush in the Summer, you will quite likely be attacked by insects. Mosquitoes, ticks, gnats, horseflies, noseeums, whatever. Bugbites are usually no more than a trivial annoyance but enough can be debilitating. For every eight hours spent traveling in the forest, roll a Fort save (DC 10). For every additional eight hours spent traveling in the forest, roll the save with the DC increased by one (DC 11 after two days' journey, DC 12 after three, etc.) Spending at least one night's rest out of the woods resets the DC back to 10. If you fail this Fortitude save you are covered in bugbites and become fatigued (-2 Str/Dex) until you spend a day outside of the forest (but performing strenuous activity does not cause you to become exhausted). "Outside the forest" can mean in the upper hills, or under the ground in a dungeon as well.
Vermin means mice, voles, even rats or weasels. If gear--especially food--is left unguarded or unprotected in the forest it is an invitation for these critters to invade. If anything made of leather, paper, untreated cloth or anything else that would be edible is left on the open ground in the forest there is a 20% chance of it taking damage from vermin, or being befouled/spoiled in the case of food and drink.
5. LIGHT AND FEEDING YOURSELF
A pint of lamp oil burns for six hours, and most lamps hold one pint. Torches are soaked in enough oil to burn for one hour. The average candle lasts one hour, but of course candles come in all shapes and sizes.
If you regularly engage in strenuous activity (marching, climbing, fighting, etc.) then you need at least a pound of food and a pint of water a day, although your body would like more. A gallon of other fluids (such as milk or beer) can substitute for water. Less than that and you will slowly begin to suffer the effects of malnutrition: you can only go 1 day + a number of hours equal to your Constitution before you begin suffering dehydration (Fort DC 10 +1 per hour, each hour, taking 1d6 nonlethal every failed save until you collapse and start taking lethal damage). After three days without food starving characters gain the exhausted condition (-6 Str/Dex, can't run). After six days consuming nothing, characters will begin making Fort saves as above; it is possible to prolong the time one must begin making saves up to one month by such extreme measures as boiling and eating grass, wood pulp, shoe leather, etc.
6. MONEY AND MEASUREMENTS
WARNING: SPERGY SHIT AHEAD. SKIP THIS PART IF YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT HOW MUCH BARLEYCORN YOU CAN CARRY OR DRY SETTING STUFF ABOUT FIAT CURRENCY HORSESHIT.
Remember that for all intents and purposes what we are calling a "pint" is 16 oz, and in terms of dry weight a pint counts as a pound. Two pints equals a quart and four quarts equals a gallon.
Some standard containers (e.g. what you get for the listed price in the PFCRB):
---A common stave/barrel holds 8 gallons, or 64 pints of liquid (a big tun such as used by merchants holds 75 gallons/600 pints).
--A common bottle or tankard holds 16 oz. A common mug/stein holds 8 oz.
--A common copper cookpot weighs 5 lbs and holds approximately 1 gallon/8 pints (would feed four Med. humanoids for two meals).
--A common chest (Med. sized) holds 4 cubic ft or 3 gallons (24 pints).
In the Kingdom of Pellegrine and its adjacent territories, the only currency (stamped coins) allowed to circulate come from royal-backed mints. The gold coins are all stamped with the royal seal and known as Gold Crowns (of the King); silver coins bear an image of a dragon and are called Silver Drakes or if the image of a stag, Silver Stags. Copper coins bear various seals but are usually just called pennies. 10 pennies = 1 Stag/Drake; 10 Stags/Drakes = 1 Crown. All the coins are about the same weight: 50 weigh a pound. Gold Crowns are about half an inch in diameter and 1/24 of an inch thick. If you cut up a gold crown it retains its value, so if you don't have a silver handy you might give a tenth of a gold coin (as weighed out). Note that none of the coins are actually purely what they say they are, so if you melted down a bunch of "silver" stags you'd just have a fused lump of tin and iron with a bit of silver patina.
By Royal Fiat, the value of 20 golden crowns equals the value of one pound of pure silver. A pound of silver is 16 ounces just like everything else, so now you know what the value of an ounce of honest to god silver is. Beware pewter or tin objects that are merely silver-plated, you looters.
Note that the standard value for healthy animal flesh is given by the pound, e.g., judged by the living animal's weight. For example, the value of a healthy pig in his breeding prime is 6 sp per pound, so say you had a 100 lb pig---that's 60 crowns/600 stags, or as valuable as 3 pounds of silver. Note that a canny trader can often find something wrong with an animal such as long teeth or dim eyes in order to give you less than full value. It's never a simple matter of weighing and swapping with animals.
7. OTHER CHANGES (stuff about combat here)
-All ranged/thrown weapons are upgraded one die above their listed damage die. This doesn't include melee/thrown weapons such as spears or daggers.
-Firearms are simple weapons. If you can aim and shoot a crossbow, you can aim and shoot a caliver. Note that proficiency doesn't mean you can reload the thing like a continental soldier, that'd be represented via the Rapid Reload feat.
-Firearms' criticals reduced from x4 to x3. Firearms only jam on a confirmed critical failure.
-Unless a crossbow has a crank/winch you cannot reload it while mounted.
-There is no offhand damage penalty for Two Weapon Fighting. Seriously TWF is suboptimal enough it doesn't need to get shat on more.
-Combat Expertise is restored to its 3.5 glory---this means you can drop your attack and raise your AC as much as your BAB allows up to +/-5.
-Darkvision is lame. Hobgoblins, dwarves and other subterranean denizens instead see in total darkness via infravision (which means they can track in pitch dark based on residual heat-patterns such as footprints). Orcs are night hunters and have Low-Light Vision.
SUGGESTED/NEEDS GROUP APPROVAL
Firearms no longer are Touch attacks. Instead, within their range increment (20 ft for pistols, 40 ft for calivers/muskets) firearms target flat footed AC. This means no dodge bonuses from fighting defensively ("huah! I'll block your bullets with my trusty blade, HUAH!"). Cover still adds to AC and Uncanny Dodge means you can indeed dodge bullets.
Draw A Bead - Full Round Action. Any time you spend a round taking careful aim with any ranged weapon against a target not in cover and are within the weapon's range increment (80 ft for a crossbow, 100 ft for a longbow, etc.) you roll vs the target's Flat Footed AC. You should be combining this with "called shot: head" basically every time.
Called Shot: Head - If you are shot in the head, roll a Fort save DC 10 + damage dealt. If you whiff the save you die instantly. Wearing head protection grants a +4 bonus to this save, but costs you a Hero Point because Heroes Don't Wear Shit On Their Heads.
1. LEVELING
Leveling up requires at least one week of rest and training even if you have enough XP to level. It is possible to level up multiple times over one of these rest periods if you have done enough/earned enough XP.
------What Counts as Resting?
No fighting, no hard travel, no sticking your nose into dangerous places (e.g anything we'd consider "adventuring.") Bar brawls and love-related imbroglios don't violate a rest period. Shopping, exploring a town/city, doing non-dangerous work (such as crafting an object or making a profession check) are all allowed.
2. INJURIES & HEALING
It is possible to sustain an injury via a critical hit or a called shot which exceeds a certain damage threshold. These can include broken limbs, punctured lungs, maiming or disfigurement, etc. The conditions of such injuries (reduced to half speed by an injured leg for example) can only be removed through a period of natural recovery (how much depending on the injury), even if magical healing restores hitpoints back to full. Lost body parts do not come back through rest, obviously.
---How Much Damage?
If a called shot removes at least 1/3 of a character's HP (doing 20 damage to a 60 HP character, for example) it will inflict an injury. Undirected critical hits have a 50% chance of inflicting some injury.
A night's rest heals Your Level + Your Con Mod of HP. Subtract this number from the damage that dealt you your injury to find out how long your injury will take to heal. For example, say you were hit on a called shot: leg by an ogre's club for 20 damage, more than 1/3 of your HP. You are level 3 and have a +2 Con modifier. You will have a bum leg for 15 days (20 - 5) and must avoid worsening the injury in that time.
---That Sounds Harsh, Fam
If you get really fucked up in a fight consider it an opportunity to chill out in town and make connections, win friends and influence people, craft that MW sword you've been wanting, etc. Not all of it has to be roleplayed through. I'm trying to slow the pace of the campaign down a little so not so much happens over so few days.
3. FILTH ACCRUATION
If a player character goes longer than ten days without washing or bathing while engaging in heavy activity (fighting, hiking, etc.) during that period, they gain one of the following conditions (1d4):
1. Flea Infested - You suffer a -2 penalty to concentration and endurance checks, as well as skill checks requiring time or patience (such as craft or disable device). Each night you spend in camp with others they must roll over 20% or acquire fleas from you.
2. Bronchial Congestion - Some bug is taking up residence in the inflamed mucus of your nose/throat/lungs. -2 Con penalty
3. Clothes/Armor Rotting - Fungus or bugs have taken up residence in your armor's padding or in your clothes. 1d4 damage to armor/outfit, will continue taking damage every two days until treated.
4. Untreated sores - your armor has creased your hide so heavily you now take a -2 Dex penalty and can only move as fast as a double move.
For every additional 10 days without hygiene, roll 1d3, then 1d2, then award yourself all four conditions and a special trophy from Papa Nurgle for being the grossest MFer ever.
How Do I Avoid This Embarrassing State?
Buy some soap and clean yourself at least once every 10 days. It's seriously in the basic equipment list. One cake of tallow soap (1 lb.) lasts for 100 uses. Alternatively, visit a public bath. Some inns will have baths as well. A quick clean usually costs 5 sp to 1 gp. Some cultures have alternate methods of cleaning themselves like mud baths or smoke baths.
If I Failed to Avoid This Embarrassing State, How Can I Get it Removed?
In case of rotting armor/clothes, visit an armorer or tailor to have it repaired. In case of the other three conditions, a visit to a doctor (or someone with training in the Heal skill) is in order. Many stores sell itching-powder and lozenges.
Should I use the public fountain in Stormcrown as a bath ever again?
If you want Swordwyte to robo-pulp your skull, sure.
4. INSECTS AND VERMIN
If you travel through dense forest or brush in the Summer, you will quite likely be attacked by insects. Mosquitoes, ticks, gnats, horseflies, noseeums, whatever. Bugbites are usually no more than a trivial annoyance but enough can be debilitating. For every eight hours spent traveling in the forest, roll a Fort save (DC 10). For every additional eight hours spent traveling in the forest, roll the save with the DC increased by one (DC 11 after two days' journey, DC 12 after three, etc.) Spending at least one night's rest out of the woods resets the DC back to 10. If you fail this Fortitude save you are covered in bugbites and become fatigued (-2 Str/Dex) until you spend a day outside of the forest (but performing strenuous activity does not cause you to become exhausted). "Outside the forest" can mean in the upper hills, or under the ground in a dungeon as well.
Vermin means mice, voles, even rats or weasels. If gear--especially food--is left unguarded or unprotected in the forest it is an invitation for these critters to invade. If anything made of leather, paper, untreated cloth or anything else that would be edible is left on the open ground in the forest there is a 20% chance of it taking damage from vermin, or being befouled/spoiled in the case of food and drink.
5. LIGHT AND FEEDING YOURSELF
A pint of lamp oil burns for six hours, and most lamps hold one pint. Torches are soaked in enough oil to burn for one hour. The average candle lasts one hour, but of course candles come in all shapes and sizes.
If you regularly engage in strenuous activity (marching, climbing, fighting, etc.) then you need at least a pound of food and a pint of water a day, although your body would like more. A gallon of other fluids (such as milk or beer) can substitute for water. Less than that and you will slowly begin to suffer the effects of malnutrition: you can only go 1 day + a number of hours equal to your Constitution before you begin suffering dehydration (Fort DC 10 +1 per hour, each hour, taking 1d6 nonlethal every failed save until you collapse and start taking lethal damage). After three days without food starving characters gain the exhausted condition (-6 Str/Dex, can't run). After six days consuming nothing, characters will begin making Fort saves as above; it is possible to prolong the time one must begin making saves up to one month by such extreme measures as boiling and eating grass, wood pulp, shoe leather, etc.
6. MONEY AND MEASUREMENTS
WARNING: SPERGY SHIT AHEAD. SKIP THIS PART IF YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT HOW MUCH BARLEYCORN YOU CAN CARRY OR DRY SETTING STUFF ABOUT FIAT CURRENCY HORSESHIT.
Remember that for all intents and purposes what we are calling a "pint" is 16 oz, and in terms of dry weight a pint counts as a pound. Two pints equals a quart and four quarts equals a gallon.
Some standard containers (e.g. what you get for the listed price in the PFCRB):
---A common stave/barrel holds 8 gallons, or 64 pints of liquid (a big tun such as used by merchants holds 75 gallons/600 pints).
--A common bottle or tankard holds 16 oz. A common mug/stein holds 8 oz.
--A common copper cookpot weighs 5 lbs and holds approximately 1 gallon/8 pints (would feed four Med. humanoids for two meals).
--A common chest (Med. sized) holds 4 cubic ft or 3 gallons (24 pints).
In the Kingdom of Pellegrine and its adjacent territories, the only currency (stamped coins) allowed to circulate come from royal-backed mints. The gold coins are all stamped with the royal seal and known as Gold Crowns (of the King); silver coins bear an image of a dragon and are called Silver Drakes or if the image of a stag, Silver Stags. Copper coins bear various seals but are usually just called pennies. 10 pennies = 1 Stag/Drake; 10 Stags/Drakes = 1 Crown. All the coins are about the same weight: 50 weigh a pound. Gold Crowns are about half an inch in diameter and 1/24 of an inch thick. If you cut up a gold crown it retains its value, so if you don't have a silver handy you might give a tenth of a gold coin (as weighed out). Note that none of the coins are actually purely what they say they are, so if you melted down a bunch of "silver" stags you'd just have a fused lump of tin and iron with a bit of silver patina.
By Royal Fiat, the value of 20 golden crowns equals the value of one pound of pure silver. A pound of silver is 16 ounces just like everything else, so now you know what the value of an ounce of honest to god silver is. Beware pewter or tin objects that are merely silver-plated, you looters.
Note that the standard value for healthy animal flesh is given by the pound, e.g., judged by the living animal's weight. For example, the value of a healthy pig in his breeding prime is 6 sp per pound, so say you had a 100 lb pig---that's 60 crowns/600 stags, or as valuable as 3 pounds of silver. Note that a canny trader can often find something wrong with an animal such as long teeth or dim eyes in order to give you less than full value. It's never a simple matter of weighing and swapping with animals.
7. OTHER CHANGES (stuff about combat here)
-All ranged/thrown weapons are upgraded one die above their listed damage die. This doesn't include melee/thrown weapons such as spears or daggers.
-Firearms are simple weapons. If you can aim and shoot a crossbow, you can aim and shoot a caliver. Note that proficiency doesn't mean you can reload the thing like a continental soldier, that'd be represented via the Rapid Reload feat.
-Firearms' criticals reduced from x4 to x3. Firearms only jam on a confirmed critical failure.
-Unless a crossbow has a crank/winch you cannot reload it while mounted.
-There is no offhand damage penalty for Two Weapon Fighting. Seriously TWF is suboptimal enough it doesn't need to get shat on more.
-Combat Expertise is restored to its 3.5 glory---this means you can drop your attack and raise your AC as much as your BAB allows up to +/-5.
-Darkvision is lame. Hobgoblins, dwarves and other subterranean denizens instead see in total darkness via infravision (which means they can track in pitch dark based on residual heat-patterns such as footprints). Orcs are night hunters and have Low-Light Vision.
SUGGESTED/NEEDS GROUP APPROVAL
Firearms no longer are Touch attacks. Instead, within their range increment (20 ft for pistols, 40 ft for calivers/muskets) firearms target flat footed AC. This means no dodge bonuses from fighting defensively ("huah! I'll block your bullets with my trusty blade, HUAH!"). Cover still adds to AC and Uncanny Dodge means you can indeed dodge bullets.
Draw A Bead - Full Round Action. Any time you spend a round taking careful aim with any ranged weapon against a target not in cover and are within the weapon's range increment (80 ft for a crossbow, 100 ft for a longbow, etc.) you roll vs the target's Flat Footed AC. You should be combining this with "called shot: head" basically every time.
Called Shot: Head - If you are shot in the head, roll a Fort save DC 10 + damage dealt. If you whiff the save you die instantly. Wearing head protection grants a +4 bonus to this save, but costs you a Hero Point because Heroes Don't Wear Shit On Their Heads.
Monday, February 6, 2017
NPC Adventurer - Glorianna Maltese
Glorianna Maltese - Human Fighter 3
Will be encountered leading a party of 1d4 fellow adventurers and 2d4 hirelings, or trying to recruit such in taverns throughout Stormcrown Barony.
Claims to be a noble knight. Is neither. Everything about her---including the name Glorianna Maltese---is a fraud (she is really a peasant woman from Hochsump named Lette Schunk). It all began when she stumbled across a dead man in a bog wearing an out-of-date but very fancy suit of armor. Since then she's run various scams pretending to be a knight for nearly a decade. Has inhabited the role of Glorianna so long that she has actually learned how to fight very well, but only out of self-preservation, and if personally threatened she will flee at the first opportunity. Her current scheme is to recruit a large number of followers and "lead" from the rear while they excavate treasure from the ruins in the Wylde, then collect the lion's share of the loot under terms of a signed contract. She has a hundred stories of her own heroism (all of them in conveniently distant lands: "This is like that little job I took for the Sultan of Transpooria..." "You think this is wet, let me tell you about the time I did an errand for an Archmage on the Elemental Plane of Water...") but is brilliant at inventing excuses at the last minute--an old injury flare-up, a spat of pneumonia, she has just learned of her beloved husband's death---whenever called to actually do something.
Quirks: Is constantly just making up bullshit to convince people she's a veteran adventurer like, "did you know wyverns can only turn clockwise when they fly?" "did you know goblins spontaneously generate in dead cows?" "Did you know if you rub a ruby over a wound it stops any sickness?" "There really is a country where they walk backwards, I've seen it." a lot of this is taken from bestiaries and childrens' storybooks. She has a thing for kids and tries to amuse them when she meets one.
Alignment: Probably Chaotic Neutral tending towards evil. Not a murderer (if exposed she will try to bluff or bargain but not kill to protect her fake name). Is haunted by some of the things she's done---once took the money a village scraped together to hire an Ogre-hunter and never actually hunted the Ogre. Wonders what happened to that village sometimes. Her notions of knighthood are taken straight from goofy Romance stories and she believes a lot of silly stuff like: you can have your knighthood revoked if you don't protect the innocent, or all priests can curse a knight who doesn't do good, so in this way it is actually fairly easy to guilt her into spontaneous acts of selflessness.
Stats for Pathfinder
Human Fighter [Tower Shield Specialist] 3 - Med. Humanoid; HD 3d10+6 (21 hp); Init: +7; Spd: 20 ft (x3 run heavy armor); AC: 19 (+1 Dex, +8 half plate) Touch 11, FF 18 (24/12/22 tower shield); Atks: Pistol +7 ranged (+8 PBS) 20 ft (1d10 x3 bludg/pierce) or dual pistols +5 ranged (+6 PBS), or springblade pistol +6 ranged 15 ft (1d4 19-20/x2 pierce) or short sword +4 melee (1d6+1 19-20/x2 pierce); S/R: 5/5 ft; SA: N/A; SQ: Fvrd Class: Fighter (+3 HP), Heart of the Streets (+1 AC/Ref adj. at least two allies, crowds not difficult terrain), Burst Barrier (+1 Ref vs AoE spells behind Tower Shield) Armor/Tower Shield Training 1 - (-3 chk pn/+2 max dex tower shield, -1/+1 armor); Svs: Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +0; Ablts: Str 13 Dex 16 Con 12 Int 13 Wis 08 Cha 15
Feats - Imp. Init, Weapon Focus [Pistol], Quickdraw, Two Weapon Fighting, Point Blank Shot, Flick of the Wrist
Skills (3/9) - Bluff (cc) +4, Diplomacy +7, Sleight of Hand (cc) +0*, Ride +1*, Handle Animal +6, Perform: Tall Tales +6, Stealth +1*
*-6 armor chk pn.
Traits - Barroom Tale-Spinner (+1 Diplomacy & Perform: Tall Story, both class skills); 1x/week roll Int for chance of knowing a legend or story of relevance.
Slippery - +1 stealth and considered a class skill.
Equipment - Ornate & Antique Suit of Plates (Half-Plate Armor, +300 gp value), six pistols--four matchlock and two snaphance, short sword w/OMW release, pair of springblade pistols, ox powderhorn, six brass cartridges, bag of shot, extra coil of slowmatch, mechanical bootblade
oil of magic weapon +1 x2 (one in sword)
potion cat's grace
potion CLW x2
books:
Houses of the Red March, History & Deeds (+5 kn. history/nobility concerning noble houses of Redmarch, can make kn. rolls untrained)
Wych Lurkes Beelowe - (+3 kn. Dungeoneering to identify underground creatures, can make checks untrained. If a check is successful (i.e. the monster is in the book, roll 50% chance for misinformation.)
A Seemple Ladey's Mirror (+3 kn. nobility for ettiquette and behavior, can make kn. checks untrained)
Letters Patent of nobility, a poor fraud (as a further obfuscation, written in the language of Dasan. Anyone familiar with the language will note obvious grammatical errors)
Letter from the Printing House of Mr. Jon Peter of Windwake, rejecting for publication The Complete Truth of a Dame's Adventures & Strange Tales of Wars Abroad on the ground of it being "clear fabrication without merit in turgid and self-aggrandizing prose." The manuscript is being held for return at an address in Rubene.
Springblade Pistol: Of gnomish make, these extremely skinny pistols have 7" barrels of bore about the width of a coin, and grips so small as to disappear in the hand. They fire a three-sided, sharp-pointed metal dart which fits over the barrel by means of a mechanical steel spring and pressurized air. The pistol can shoot no further than 15 feet.
NOTE - Glorianna keeps her springblade pistols in special holders attached to opposite sides of her gauntlets with the grips at the elbows. Her springblades use all-metal furniture, meaning they are disguised to appear as part of her armor, with a DC 20 perception check to notice. If the pistols go unnoticed Glorianna can quickdraw them and enjoy the benefit of surprise (targeting an opponent's FF AC). She will usually try this move as a last resort, taking a called-shot to shoot her blades at an enemy's face or neck.
Boot Blade: Concealed blades such as this, released by a hard stomp of the heel, take the target by surprise and use their Flat Footed AC unless the target beats a DC 20 Perception check, but take a -2 penalty to hit.
OMW-Release: Weapons with this ability have a hollow in the hilt which contains a pool of oil of magic weapon. By pushing in a stud on the hilt the oil is released to flow down the blade, granting it the enchantment as a swift action. Weapons with the hollow suffer from an imbalance and cannot be made Masterwork.
A NOTE ON HOW I DO HITPOINTS: In my campaign, rather than roll HP for leveled NPCs I just give them half of whatever they get from their HD plus Con bonus &c. This has the effect of making NPCs fairly fragile while the players have a certain advantage over any equally-leveled NPC individually, which is how I like it. If you want to use Glorianna in your campaign and don't have my predilection for sudden death you may want to roll her hitpoints normally.
WHY ARE THE PISTOL DAMAGES WEIRD: I upgrade all ranged weapons a damage die in my campaign and brought down firearms' crit from x4 to x3.
Will be encountered leading a party of 1d4 fellow adventurers and 2d4 hirelings, or trying to recruit such in taverns throughout Stormcrown Barony.
Until I draw a proper portrait this will have to serve
Claims to be a noble knight. Is neither. Everything about her---including the name Glorianna Maltese---is a fraud (she is really a peasant woman from Hochsump named Lette Schunk). It all began when she stumbled across a dead man in a bog wearing an out-of-date but very fancy suit of armor. Since then she's run various scams pretending to be a knight for nearly a decade. Has inhabited the role of Glorianna so long that she has actually learned how to fight very well, but only out of self-preservation, and if personally threatened she will flee at the first opportunity. Her current scheme is to recruit a large number of followers and "lead" from the rear while they excavate treasure from the ruins in the Wylde, then collect the lion's share of the loot under terms of a signed contract. She has a hundred stories of her own heroism (all of them in conveniently distant lands: "This is like that little job I took for the Sultan of Transpooria..." "You think this is wet, let me tell you about the time I did an errand for an Archmage on the Elemental Plane of Water...") but is brilliant at inventing excuses at the last minute--an old injury flare-up, a spat of pneumonia, she has just learned of her beloved husband's death---whenever called to actually do something.
Quirks: Is constantly just making up bullshit to convince people she's a veteran adventurer like, "did you know wyverns can only turn clockwise when they fly?" "did you know goblins spontaneously generate in dead cows?" "Did you know if you rub a ruby over a wound it stops any sickness?" "There really is a country where they walk backwards, I've seen it." a lot of this is taken from bestiaries and childrens' storybooks. She has a thing for kids and tries to amuse them when she meets one.
Alignment: Probably Chaotic Neutral tending towards evil. Not a murderer (if exposed she will try to bluff or bargain but not kill to protect her fake name). Is haunted by some of the things she's done---once took the money a village scraped together to hire an Ogre-hunter and never actually hunted the Ogre. Wonders what happened to that village sometimes. Her notions of knighthood are taken straight from goofy Romance stories and she believes a lot of silly stuff like: you can have your knighthood revoked if you don't protect the innocent, or all priests can curse a knight who doesn't do good, so in this way it is actually fairly easy to guilt her into spontaneous acts of selflessness.
Stats for Pathfinder
Human Fighter [Tower Shield Specialist] 3 - Med. Humanoid; HD 3d10+6 (21 hp); Init: +7; Spd: 20 ft (x3 run heavy armor); AC: 19 (+1 Dex, +8 half plate) Touch 11, FF 18 (24/12/22 tower shield); Atks: Pistol +7 ranged (+8 PBS) 20 ft (1d10 x3 bludg/pierce) or dual pistols +5 ranged (+6 PBS), or springblade pistol +6 ranged 15 ft (1d4 19-20/x2 pierce) or short sword +4 melee (1d6+1 19-20/x2 pierce); S/R: 5/5 ft; SA: N/A; SQ: Fvrd Class: Fighter (+3 HP), Heart of the Streets (+1 AC/Ref adj. at least two allies, crowds not difficult terrain), Burst Barrier (+1 Ref vs AoE spells behind Tower Shield) Armor/Tower Shield Training 1 - (-3 chk pn/+2 max dex tower shield, -1/+1 armor); Svs: Fort +4, Ref +4, Will +0; Ablts: Str 13 Dex 16 Con 12 Int 13 Wis 08 Cha 15
Feats - Imp. Init, Weapon Focus [Pistol], Quickdraw, Two Weapon Fighting, Point Blank Shot, Flick of the Wrist
Skills (3/9) - Bluff (cc) +4, Diplomacy +7, Sleight of Hand (cc) +0*, Ride +1*, Handle Animal +6, Perform: Tall Tales +6, Stealth +1*
*-6 armor chk pn.
Traits - Barroom Tale-Spinner (+1 Diplomacy & Perform: Tall Story, both class skills); 1x/week roll Int for chance of knowing a legend or story of relevance.
Slippery - +1 stealth and considered a class skill.
Equipment - Ornate & Antique Suit of Plates (Half-Plate Armor, +300 gp value), six pistols--four matchlock and two snaphance, short sword w/OMW release, pair of springblade pistols, ox powderhorn, six brass cartridges, bag of shot, extra coil of slowmatch, mechanical bootblade
oil of magic weapon +1 x2 (one in sword)
potion cat's grace
potion CLW x2
books:
Houses of the Red March, History & Deeds (+5 kn. history/nobility concerning noble houses of Redmarch, can make kn. rolls untrained)
Wych Lurkes Beelowe - (+3 kn. Dungeoneering to identify underground creatures, can make checks untrained. If a check is successful (i.e. the monster is in the book, roll 50% chance for misinformation.)
A Seemple Ladey's Mirror (+3 kn. nobility for ettiquette and behavior, can make kn. checks untrained)
Letters Patent of nobility, a poor fraud (as a further obfuscation, written in the language of Dasan. Anyone familiar with the language will note obvious grammatical errors)
Letter from the Printing House of Mr. Jon Peter of Windwake, rejecting for publication The Complete Truth of a Dame's Adventures & Strange Tales of Wars Abroad on the ground of it being "clear fabrication without merit in turgid and self-aggrandizing prose." The manuscript is being held for return at an address in Rubene.
Springblade Pistol: Of gnomish make, these extremely skinny pistols have 7" barrels of bore about the width of a coin, and grips so small as to disappear in the hand. They fire a three-sided, sharp-pointed metal dart which fits over the barrel by means of a mechanical steel spring and pressurized air. The pistol can shoot no further than 15 feet.
NOTE - Glorianna keeps her springblade pistols in special holders attached to opposite sides of her gauntlets with the grips at the elbows. Her springblades use all-metal furniture, meaning they are disguised to appear as part of her armor, with a DC 20 perception check to notice. If the pistols go unnoticed Glorianna can quickdraw them and enjoy the benefit of surprise (targeting an opponent's FF AC). She will usually try this move as a last resort, taking a called-shot to shoot her blades at an enemy's face or neck.
Boot Blade: Concealed blades such as this, released by a hard stomp of the heel, take the target by surprise and use their Flat Footed AC unless the target beats a DC 20 Perception check, but take a -2 penalty to hit.
OMW-Release: Weapons with this ability have a hollow in the hilt which contains a pool of oil of magic weapon. By pushing in a stud on the hilt the oil is released to flow down the blade, granting it the enchantment as a swift action. Weapons with the hollow suffer from an imbalance and cannot be made Masterwork.
A NOTE ON HOW I DO HITPOINTS: In my campaign, rather than roll HP for leveled NPCs I just give them half of whatever they get from their HD plus Con bonus &c. This has the effect of making NPCs fairly fragile while the players have a certain advantage over any equally-leveled NPC individually, which is how I like it. If you want to use Glorianna in your campaign and don't have my predilection for sudden death you may want to roll her hitpoints normally.
WHY ARE THE PISTOL DAMAGES WEIRD: I upgrade all ranged weapons a damage die in my campaign and brought down firearms' crit from x4 to x3.
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