1. Orcs, Grey or Green. Grey Orcs live in colder climates up north, or mountainous highlands. Green in forests and verdant hills. Grey warriors wear mail and wield steel weapons, while green are primitive but skilled in poisons and witchery. These are middle-road fantasy orcs: tusks, muscles and bristly manes; can be hot in a beastman kinda way or butt-ugly pig people. Greys are nobly savage while greens are savagely noble. They can get along with humans alright but old enemies to dwarves and elves. More an alt. PC race than an enemy.
2. Orcs, White. Driven deep underground long ago. Have abandoned their old gods for Demon Princes, partic. Baphomet, Demogorgon, Kotschie, or Obox-Ob. Followers of rival princes fight each other as often as anyone else. Champions and chiefs always sport at least one demonic "gift" (significant mutation---six arms, ceratinous armor, acid tongue, etc). Metalworkers, masters of crafting Arcane Tattoos.
3. Orcs, Pink. Creations of the Arch-Wizardess Cyrell the Chaotic. Their genetic matrix is highly unstable: virtually all have at least a minor mutation (us. extra eyes or teeth ridges over limbs etc.), 50% have major mutation. Flesh rubbery and soft. Explode when slain, which gives them unwarranted confidence. Cyrelle grants her followers stylish black leather armor and fine weapons; feral examples will fight with what they can scavenge.
4. Orcs, Ochre. These Orcs' liverspotted yellow flesh is overgrown with pustules, many as big as a fist. When popped these spheres release acid (if damaged, d3 splash 5 ft). Some also vomit acid (d6, 5ft). Many orcs become so swollen with pustules they cannot wear armor and live in constant pain. Primitive, us. fight with greatclubs or stone axes. Those who become champions often wear Otyugh or Troll-hide amor, which resists acid spills better. They grow in gigantic, dangling batches of birthing cysts like grape bushels. Probably a wizard created them but none willing to take credit.
5. Orcs, Violet. Symbiotic relationship with large gilled shelf-fungus called Dream Polypore, brackets of which grow mainly off shoulders and back, staining skin purple. Fungus constantly emits trickles of smoke-like purple sporeclouds, which Violet Orcs can manipulate to show minor illusions or exhale hallucinogenic exhaust once per day. Have their own language based on thought-forms half-glimpsed in the haze. Makes hiding tough for them. Dreamy, peaceful, they see a heightened version of reality. If encountered may trade potions or other herbal magic items. Maybe a good PC option, but wearing armor problematic---only decent as Druid or Sorcerer.
6. Orcs, Red. Base 2HD. Vomit a shower of their own blood, which is as flammable as gasoline. Their skins are resistant to flame. Usually well-equipped, they favor scale mail, the voulge-glaive and two-handed falchions. All Red Orcs descend from a batch created by a wizard centuries ago and consider themselves to be a single nation: they will fight for anyone's pay, but not each other. Beneath their disciplined facade each is capable of entering a truly terrifying but always fatal rage, gaining +4 Str/+10' Spd and taking 1d4 dmg/rnd from their own boiling blood until, steaming, it squirts from eyes and nostrils and they collapse dead.
7. Ogrillons. Also known as "Orcres" thanks to my players. The product of an Orc and Ogre mating. Most are Med. size (< 8 ft) but a few (10%) reach Lg. size. A degree of ogrish natural armor, and powerful natural weapons including thick bonespurs protecting/reinforcing fists and tusks able to gore. Suffer from the ogres' Hunger Curse only slightly less. Most orc tribes regard them as abominations but a few use as shock troops. Sometimes hags breed them as they eat slightly less than Ogres so you can keep a few more around.
Sunday, May 6, 2018
Friday, April 20, 2018
1d12 Hirelings
1. Esquival the Freshmaker - Obese baker with dreams of being a knight. Surprisingly tough, but gets winded easy, -4 Svs vs Exhaustion from travel. Treat as always carrying a Medium Load. Excellent income means he comes with a coat of scales (let out to acccomodate his bulk, only +3 armor bonus), longsword, sturdy wood shield and enough supplies for a week in the wilds. Pay as soldier.
2. Zelga the Begger - Former Guild-Thief. Maimed (foot sawed off) as punishment for prior thefts. Reduced to begging in the town square. Speed reduced to 20ft and -2 AC but Skill Focus in Perception/Disable Device. Starts out with no gear but cloak, crutch and beggar's bowl. She will accept the lowest level of pay despite her skills.
3. Pol - A draper's son, claims to be 17 but clearly younger. Ran away or disowned. Literate and excellent with figures. Useless at physical labor. Offers himself as a clerk (skilled pay) but will take job as linkboy. Has a dagger, pot of tar and a few torches.
4. The Dragon - Fire-swallower. This former circus performer is well-muscled but recalcitrant. Has an oroborous tattoo over chest and stomach. Lost his taste buds long ago. Does not start with gear, shirt or shoes. Can be hired as unskilled labor (in which case he won't fight) or as soldier (skilled brawler but will eventually demand equipment).
5. Jon the Bargeman - Tall and hiresut with knotty, powerful muscles. His broken bargepole makes for a quarterstaff. No one his age should be as strong as he is. Sharp-eyed, rarely speaks. Hire as labor or combatant--will do either without complaint. Mourning his wife. 15% chance every day he departs without a word.
6. Brian the Chicken-Infested Peasant - A former crofter, Brian suffers from a curse that causes chickens to spontaneously appear inside his clothing. This is definitely uncomfortable for him (the chickens claw, bite and often immediately shit) but a boon to any party that will adopt him. Brian produces 1d4 chickens every day unless he is naked or constantly observed (the chickens only appear when no one's looking). The fowl are violent-tempered and immediately try to escape. Brian dearly wants the money to pay for a Remove Curse and might do anything to get it. He has no equipment.
7. Llewyn of Blauders - Llewyn is a skilled rogue who was born into a minor religious sect. A total pacifist, he refuses to carry weapons or participate in combat even to save himself. Nonetheless Llewyn is an excellent acrobat, trap-disabler and has a talent for making himself scarce. Pay as an expert hireling with hazard pay. He has leather armor, thieves' tools, a bag of marbles and a collapsible 10-foot pole.
8. Arecilia Dantwidge - This pale, death-obsessed young woman is a noble scion and terrible poet looking for "experience." She wants to witness combat, poke dead bodies, and examine monsters up close. She will make a game effort at being a hireling but has no idea how to do basic things like start a fire, dig a pit, etc., tires easily. Can be a clerk, linkgirl or unskilled labor. Has a wardrobe worth 35 gp, purse of 100 gp and set of masterwork daggers. A gang of bounty hunters hired by her parents will arrive to collect her in 2d4 weeks.
9. Vaughn Meachum - An ex-miner and mason with many useful skills. Stonecunning as a dwarf, able to recognize metal veins, coal seams etc. Starts with a shovel, which he wields with deadly skill, and a manual of architecture and engineering. He is in fact a budding revolutionary and will attempt to secretly organize the party's hirelings against them.
10. Chauncey St. Claire and His Amazing Pigs - This swineherd (Com3, Skill Focus Handle Animal) has a staff, wallet and three puckish pigs he has drilled to near-perfection. The pigs are watchier than watchdogs, excellent at foraging and can fight viciously as a coordinated team. Give them 8 tricks, teamwork feats, alertness and trapsense +3. Chauncey will expect to be treated as a full party member and also a stream of constant flattery to his handsome and clever animals. He will not brook sending his pigs alone into danger. The animals actually know no loyalty and will will eat anyone left alone and vulnerable, including Chauncey.
11. Ebard the Touched - Once a teller of false fortunes and seller of fake relics, Ebard has since become known as a wild-eyed mountebank. A wallet of food, some torches and a ratty old robe are all he brings. He claims that dreams and visions have summoned him to the deep chambers of the earth, there to sublime his mortal existence before an immensity he calls The Caller in Dreams. He will perform any task so long as a party takes him into the deeps beneath the earth. Once below he manifests supernatural abilities--either give him the Oracle class or Sanctuary and Know Direction as (Sp)s. Ebard will continue to serve the party faithfully until an encounter with a Gelatinous Cube, Ochre Jelly or other ooze---whereon he will charge forth to be devoured by the thing, crying "as I dreamed! I go to join the world-mind! This mortality is over!"
12. Jack Ville - The son of poor but proud farriers, this well-muscled youth desires experience and to collect some interesting stories before settling down. No equipment and knows none but his father's trade, but will shoulder his burden however tasked. The joke with this guy is he is exactly what he appears to be. See how long it takes for your players destroy his innocence, for science.
2. Zelga the Begger - Former Guild-Thief. Maimed (foot sawed off) as punishment for prior thefts. Reduced to begging in the town square. Speed reduced to 20ft and -2 AC but Skill Focus in Perception/Disable Device. Starts out with no gear but cloak, crutch and beggar's bowl. She will accept the lowest level of pay despite her skills.
3. Pol - A draper's son, claims to be 17 but clearly younger. Ran away or disowned. Literate and excellent with figures. Useless at physical labor. Offers himself as a clerk (skilled pay) but will take job as linkboy. Has a dagger, pot of tar and a few torches.
4. The Dragon - Fire-swallower. This former circus performer is well-muscled but recalcitrant. Has an oroborous tattoo over chest and stomach. Lost his taste buds long ago. Does not start with gear, shirt or shoes. Can be hired as unskilled labor (in which case he won't fight) or as soldier (skilled brawler but will eventually demand equipment).
5. Jon the Bargeman - Tall and hiresut with knotty, powerful muscles. His broken bargepole makes for a quarterstaff. No one his age should be as strong as he is. Sharp-eyed, rarely speaks. Hire as labor or combatant--will do either without complaint. Mourning his wife. 15% chance every day he departs without a word.
6. Brian the Chicken-Infested Peasant - A former crofter, Brian suffers from a curse that causes chickens to spontaneously appear inside his clothing. This is definitely uncomfortable for him (the chickens claw, bite and often immediately shit) but a boon to any party that will adopt him. Brian produces 1d4 chickens every day unless he is naked or constantly observed (the chickens only appear when no one's looking). The fowl are violent-tempered and immediately try to escape. Brian dearly wants the money to pay for a Remove Curse and might do anything to get it. He has no equipment.
7. Llewyn of Blauders - Llewyn is a skilled rogue who was born into a minor religious sect. A total pacifist, he refuses to carry weapons or participate in combat even to save himself. Nonetheless Llewyn is an excellent acrobat, trap-disabler and has a talent for making himself scarce. Pay as an expert hireling with hazard pay. He has leather armor, thieves' tools, a bag of marbles and a collapsible 10-foot pole.
8. Arecilia Dantwidge - This pale, death-obsessed young woman is a noble scion and terrible poet looking for "experience." She wants to witness combat, poke dead bodies, and examine monsters up close. She will make a game effort at being a hireling but has no idea how to do basic things like start a fire, dig a pit, etc., tires easily. Can be a clerk, linkgirl or unskilled labor. Has a wardrobe worth 35 gp, purse of 100 gp and set of masterwork daggers. A gang of bounty hunters hired by her parents will arrive to collect her in 2d4 weeks.
9. Vaughn Meachum - An ex-miner and mason with many useful skills. Stonecunning as a dwarf, able to recognize metal veins, coal seams etc. Starts with a shovel, which he wields with deadly skill, and a manual of architecture and engineering. He is in fact a budding revolutionary and will attempt to secretly organize the party's hirelings against them.
10. Chauncey St. Claire and His Amazing Pigs - This swineherd (Com3, Skill Focus Handle Animal) has a staff, wallet and three puckish pigs he has drilled to near-perfection. The pigs are watchier than watchdogs, excellent at foraging and can fight viciously as a coordinated team. Give them 8 tricks, teamwork feats, alertness and trapsense +3. Chauncey will expect to be treated as a full party member and also a stream of constant flattery to his handsome and clever animals. He will not brook sending his pigs alone into danger. The animals actually know no loyalty and will will eat anyone left alone and vulnerable, including Chauncey.
11. Ebard the Touched - Once a teller of false fortunes and seller of fake relics, Ebard has since become known as a wild-eyed mountebank. A wallet of food, some torches and a ratty old robe are all he brings. He claims that dreams and visions have summoned him to the deep chambers of the earth, there to sublime his mortal existence before an immensity he calls The Caller in Dreams. He will perform any task so long as a party takes him into the deeps beneath the earth. Once below he manifests supernatural abilities--either give him the Oracle class or Sanctuary and Know Direction as (Sp)s. Ebard will continue to serve the party faithfully until an encounter with a Gelatinous Cube, Ochre Jelly or other ooze---whereon he will charge forth to be devoured by the thing, crying "as I dreamed! I go to join the world-mind! This mortality is over!"
12. Jack Ville - The son of poor but proud farriers, this well-muscled youth desires experience and to collect some interesting stories before settling down. No equipment and knows none but his father's trade, but will shoulder his burden however tasked. The joke with this guy is he is exactly what he appears to be. See how long it takes for your players destroy his innocence, for science.
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Two Character Record Sheets
Was going through a giant pile of old gaming-related papers (looking for stuff on my unfinished Seclusium of Cyrelle adventure actually) yesterday and found these. I must have made them early last year: two characters for a half-imagined amalgam of OD&D/AD&D, 3.5 and 5e...?
Sunday, January 21, 2018
The Canticle of the Formless Many
This is for my mainstay campaign setting, which still doesn't really have a proper name. It's the same setting as my Eastwylde campaign, and the world in which I plonked down The Maze of the Blue Medusa. It's background stuff for the Stonehold dungeon I'm writing.
*
Don't call them a cult; much less a faith. The ladies and gentlemen of the Canticle would be insulted at the term. What they do is no act of faith, but the ultimate act of reason.
To wit: the ultimate act of reason is accept its own impossibility.
The universe is chaos: growth and decay and the random movement of particles. Throughout the many worlds truth is change, and the idea of Eternity--with its golden rays and choirs of insipid angels--is the lie. Creation and destruction, transmutation: paint on the canvas, form growing from clay under the sculptor's fingertips. This is truth and beauty, invention and imagination. That is what the Canticle holds to. It is perhaps best thought of as a collective of artists.
The Canticle is a coterie of wizards from the western lands. Specifically a group of wizards born to land and wealth, specializing in the Transmutation school. There are perhaps only a dozen. Most of them are more than a century old, perhaps few would be easily recognized as human any longer. But though they have altered themselves, the members of the Canticle save their boldest and most striking work for others.
That work may not be devotional in the sense usually imparted to cultic activity, but there is a metaphysical resonance in it as surely as in the transcendent work of all serious artists. A somebody, at least, an other, grants inspiration and power to fuel his devoted as surely as the architect of the finest Temple can claim his inspiration to be heavensent. That other is The Formless Many, the Great Warper, an immense Toad of Limbo squatting above the fraying nerves of the cosmos. Perhaps not a god but certainly no fiend as the grossly limited manichean cosmos holds. And more than powerful enough to influence the Prime Material through his blessing of manifold mutation.
In his name the masters of the Canticle sculpt flesh and transform matter, juxtaposing and lampooning the dull taxonomy of creation. When they gather---only a few such salons occurring each century--it's a chance for each to show off in craft and imagination. Competition such as true artists live for. At their last gathering for example, exhibits included a woman meticulously half-transformed into a giant centipede; a living man with flesh of crystal glass; a mosaic in precious stones and dragonscale that eats, shits and sings; a girl who grew old in a day, gave birth to herself, and died. Such gatherings are inevitably ostentatious affairs. The privilege of birth combined with arcane power and flagrant defiance of the Arcane Order's strictures means each member of the Canticle lives like a prince, if only in their sealed and hidden Seclusiums.
They are aesthetic hedonists. Corruption of the body is no problem---any decent wizard should be able to restart his liver or banish a venereal blemish, let alone sustain himself over decades of sumptuous living. To live below a certain level of luxury would be a disgrace to any of them, and certainly mean exclusion from the Canticle. [In my setting, most wizards are from upper middle class families at least, and almost all of the very powerful ones, heroes or villains, were born into wealth and power]. Most of these wizards were born in a time period roughly corresponding to the Late Middle Ages, and their outlook is that of any baron standing defiant of a distant throne: my demesne, my land, my people, my house, my money, and I'll do what I like with it all.
The mightiest of the Canticle is the arch-rogue, Cyrelle the Chaotic. Her infamous Seclusium--towers of pink marble on a grand manor--still lies unconquered at the heart of the trackless forest of Broceliande, in defiance for centuries of the justice of the Arcane Order and the Kingdoms of the West. Prior to her recent disappearance Cyrelle was perhaps the most hated rogue wizard alive. Not a few Archmagi and other would-be champions were felled or twisted into mockeries of themselves by her over the centuries. It is said she is over 400 years old and has the appearance of a great lizard in kaleidoscoping colors; it is said she created her own tiny world to tend as goddess; it is said she gave birth to a demon so powerful it ate her; it is said a host of angels abducted her for judgement in the night; some say she has simply tired of the West and is living large in the Yellow City of Yoon-Suin, tasting the debaucheries of the Slug-Men.
More Prosaically,
So the Canticle of the Formless Many is sort of my version of a secret evil chaos cult. Except it's more like The Legion of Doom than a traditional army of nameless hooded acolytes. You have to be 1. at least a level 13 Wizard (that is, Archmage candidate material---a serious badass) and 2. enormously wealthy/landed aristocracy to even join (and ofc., Transmutation as a specialty school is a must. Most of them bar Abjuration and Evocation or Illusion). There are at most maybe a little over a dozen active living members, and each one would (or should) be a suitable Boss Badguy for a long term campaign in their own right.
They aren't trying to do anything esoteric like change the world, end the world, summon a god or enact some prophecy or whatever. I always struggle on an engagement level with "high concept" villains. These guys are basically a club of libertine aristocrats with Arcane PhDs who like to fuck with and torture people for fun; they're generally not as deep as they think they are. You know that old horror story about English aristocrats who pay to have homeless people kidnapped, brought to the woods on their estate, and then hunt them with hounds? Yeah like a wizard version of that.
However, the Great Warper/Formless Many/Great Grotesque Toad is a very real thing, and the Canticle's activities really do extend its randomizing and liquefying influence on the Prime Material. You could call it a Demigod I guess; Divine Rank 0. Not as powerful as the Archangels or the Demon Princes but much more fun. If the Formless and by extension the Canticle have an agenda, it's "make everybody roll on that d1000 mutations table from Realms of Chaos over and over because LOL."
Cyrelle is the first (and so far only) Wizard/Seclusium Dungeon I created using Vince Baker's Seclusium of Orphone dungeon generator thing. She's a 17th level wizardess which makes her probably one of the 10 most powerful humans on the European subcontinent and somewhere in the top 24 for Eurasia. I did a massive amount of writing for her Seclusium/the Forest of Broceliande; it was way too ambitious for a first go however so I'm starting with the Stonehold as a more modest dungeon of ~50 rooms or so.
*
Don't call them a cult; much less a faith. The ladies and gentlemen of the Canticle would be insulted at the term. What they do is no act of faith, but the ultimate act of reason.
To wit: the ultimate act of reason is accept its own impossibility.
The universe is chaos: growth and decay and the random movement of particles. Throughout the many worlds truth is change, and the idea of Eternity--with its golden rays and choirs of insipid angels--is the lie. Creation and destruction, transmutation: paint on the canvas, form growing from clay under the sculptor's fingertips. This is truth and beauty, invention and imagination. That is what the Canticle holds to. It is perhaps best thought of as a collective of artists.
The Canticle is a coterie of wizards from the western lands. Specifically a group of wizards born to land and wealth, specializing in the Transmutation school. There are perhaps only a dozen. Most of them are more than a century old, perhaps few would be easily recognized as human any longer. But though they have altered themselves, the members of the Canticle save their boldest and most striking work for others.
That work may not be devotional in the sense usually imparted to cultic activity, but there is a metaphysical resonance in it as surely as in the transcendent work of all serious artists. A somebody, at least, an other, grants inspiration and power to fuel his devoted as surely as the architect of the finest Temple can claim his inspiration to be heavensent. That other is The Formless Many, the Great Warper, an immense Toad of Limbo squatting above the fraying nerves of the cosmos. Perhaps not a god but certainly no fiend as the grossly limited manichean cosmos holds. And more than powerful enough to influence the Prime Material through his blessing of manifold mutation.
In his name the masters of the Canticle sculpt flesh and transform matter, juxtaposing and lampooning the dull taxonomy of creation. When they gather---only a few such salons occurring each century--it's a chance for each to show off in craft and imagination. Competition such as true artists live for. At their last gathering for example, exhibits included a woman meticulously half-transformed into a giant centipede; a living man with flesh of crystal glass; a mosaic in precious stones and dragonscale that eats, shits and sings; a girl who grew old in a day, gave birth to herself, and died. Such gatherings are inevitably ostentatious affairs. The privilege of birth combined with arcane power and flagrant defiance of the Arcane Order's strictures means each member of the Canticle lives like a prince, if only in their sealed and hidden Seclusiums.
They are aesthetic hedonists. Corruption of the body is no problem---any decent wizard should be able to restart his liver or banish a venereal blemish, let alone sustain himself over decades of sumptuous living. To live below a certain level of luxury would be a disgrace to any of them, and certainly mean exclusion from the Canticle. [In my setting, most wizards are from upper middle class families at least, and almost all of the very powerful ones, heroes or villains, were born into wealth and power]. Most of these wizards were born in a time period roughly corresponding to the Late Middle Ages, and their outlook is that of any baron standing defiant of a distant throne: my demesne, my land, my people, my house, my money, and I'll do what I like with it all.
The mightiest of the Canticle is the arch-rogue, Cyrelle the Chaotic. Her infamous Seclusium--towers of pink marble on a grand manor--still lies unconquered at the heart of the trackless forest of Broceliande, in defiance for centuries of the justice of the Arcane Order and the Kingdoms of the West. Prior to her recent disappearance Cyrelle was perhaps the most hated rogue wizard alive. Not a few Archmagi and other would-be champions were felled or twisted into mockeries of themselves by her over the centuries. It is said she is over 400 years old and has the appearance of a great lizard in kaleidoscoping colors; it is said she created her own tiny world to tend as goddess; it is said she gave birth to a demon so powerful it ate her; it is said a host of angels abducted her for judgement in the night; some say she has simply tired of the West and is living large in the Yellow City of Yoon-Suin, tasting the debaucheries of the Slug-Men.
More Prosaically,
So the Canticle of the Formless Many is sort of my version of a secret evil chaos cult. Except it's more like The Legion of Doom than a traditional army of nameless hooded acolytes. You have to be 1. at least a level 13 Wizard (that is, Archmage candidate material---a serious badass) and 2. enormously wealthy/landed aristocracy to even join (and ofc., Transmutation as a specialty school is a must. Most of them bar Abjuration and Evocation or Illusion). There are at most maybe a little over a dozen active living members, and each one would (or should) be a suitable Boss Badguy for a long term campaign in their own right.
They aren't trying to do anything esoteric like change the world, end the world, summon a god or enact some prophecy or whatever. I always struggle on an engagement level with "high concept" villains. These guys are basically a club of libertine aristocrats with Arcane PhDs who like to fuck with and torture people for fun; they're generally not as deep as they think they are. You know that old horror story about English aristocrats who pay to have homeless people kidnapped, brought to the woods on their estate, and then hunt them with hounds? Yeah like a wizard version of that.
However, the Great Warper/Formless Many/Great Grotesque Toad is a very real thing, and the Canticle's activities really do extend its randomizing and liquefying influence on the Prime Material. You could call it a Demigod I guess; Divine Rank 0. Not as powerful as the Archangels or the Demon Princes but much more fun. If the Formless and by extension the Canticle have an agenda, it's "make everybody roll on that d1000 mutations table from Realms of Chaos over and over because LOL."
Cyrelle is the first (and so far only) Wizard/Seclusium Dungeon I created using Vince Baker's Seclusium of Orphone dungeon generator thing. She's a 17th level wizardess which makes her probably one of the 10 most powerful humans on the European subcontinent and somewhere in the top 24 for Eurasia. I did a massive amount of writing for her Seclusium/the Forest of Broceliande; it was way too ambitious for a first go however so I'm starting with the Stonehold as a more modest dungeon of ~50 rooms or so.
Saturday, January 20, 2018
Three NPC Adventuring Parties
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.
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.
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