Posts Tagged ‘ monsters ’

Jasper’s Starfish Dragon

In my last post, I imagined Jasper, son of Laryssa and John Payne, as the superheroic Crayola Kid. I also explained that Jasper needs ear surgery to help improve his hearing. At the time of this writing, the Payne family has raised $2,050 of $4,300 needed for Jasper’s medical bills. Check out the Paynes’ GoFundMe page. I’m planning on another donation by Spes Magna Games at the end of this month once my March sales receipts are deposited to my PayPal account. I’m also hoping that the little bit of exposure my posts bring might inspire others who can to be generous.

Of course, I need something gaming related for this post, and so this time I’ve statted up Jasper’s starfish dragon (click on the pic to embiggen the image).

The Starfish Dragon

Deep beneath the waves of the vast sea lurks the starfish dragon. The size of a galleon, supernaturally strong and invulnerable to all but the most powerful weapons, it seldom surfaces except to protect its territory against hostile interlopers. When the starfish dragon attacks, it stirs up massive waves and then tears the hull open from underneath. It usually then descends back to its depths, leaving the sailors to the mercy of the elements.

For Dungeon World

Intelligent, Magical, Hoarder, Huge, Solitary
Tentacles (b[2d10]+5 damage, +2 piercing)
20 HP
4 Armor
Forceful, Messy, Reach
Special Qualities: Aquatic, know the deeps, nigh-invulnerable scales
Instinct: To terrorize the weak
* Crush with tentacles
* Exhale unquenchable fire
* Toss massive waves

For Swords & Wizardry

HD 10; AC 1 (18); Atks 3 tentacles (1d8), 1 bite (3d6); SV 5; Special +1 or better weapon to hit, 35% magic resistance, breathe cone of fire (10d8 with save for half damage), control ocean waters; MV 6 (Swim 21); AL N; CL/XP 14/2,600

March 22nd, 2015  in RPG No Comments »

The Terror of Toys

So, I started reading J. R. R. Tolkien’s Roverandom last night. I’ve long maintained that all good children’s stories must have an element of fear, darkness, et cetera, in them. Tolkien obviously agreed. Rover, after being turned into a toy, complains that he wants to run and bark and play. Other toys chide Rover, telling him to be quiet because the more a toy gets played with, the quicker it wears out, breaks, gets discarded and so forth.

In other words, the very thing that a toy is made for is the thing which a toy dreads.

Excellently dark.

Of course, I could not help but think of the fantasy game implications of Tolkien’s tale. In short:

1. Toys are sentient, capable of communication, and are motile. We don’t know they’re sentient because we can’t hear them talk or see them move. Toys can’t move when they’re watched, and even when not watched most move very slowly, especially if they aren’t appropriately articulated. A block of wood carved into the shape of a horse can perhaps wobble a little bit and fall over, but that’s about it.

2. Toys don’t like being played with. They want to be left alone, kept in mint condition on display on a shelf out of reach of children’s fingers.

3. Toys fear death at the hands of children. They also fear being discarded or lost, which likely leaves them at the mercy of the elements, nibbling rodents, and so forth.

Thus, the life of a toy tends to be limited and full of dread. Toys are created by thoughtless craftsmen to endure torture and eventual destruction, all to amuse children who are oblivious to the terror they inflict.

Quite understandably, many toys become quite bitter, even hateful, especially of children. Rarely, one of these toys entreats whatever powers might listen for aid, and Cro† infrequently decides to intervene. In his mercy and his cruelty, he grants the toy magical powers, almost always including the ability cast Animate Object, but in such a way that it can affect dozens of toys at the same time. Individually, few of these animated toys pose much of a threat, but acting in concert against a terrified child alone in his playroom….

†Cro, the God of Truth, Chaos, and Opposites. Cro always speaks the truth. Cro always lies. Cro stands firm against what is evil. Cro revels in evil, his hands stained with innocent blood. Cro is all things, and all things are Cro.

February 4th, 2015  in RPG 1 Comment »

The Bajang

Evil and intelligent, the bajang, a type of lesser spirit, lives in tropical jungles, where it delights in terrorizing settlements. Wicked magic ties the bajang’s lifeforce to a single tree in the forest in which it dwells.

In its true form, the bajang looks like a stunted, stocky human with a blunt nose, wispy hair, and pale brown skin. Its beady orange eyes glare malevolently, and a permanent evil sneer creases its wide, lipless mouth. Instead of fingers, it has bony claws, and its feet resemble the talons of a vulture. The bajang can also take the form of a small wildcat, and its victims most often encounter the bajang in this form. As a wildcat, it has light brown fur and retains its distinctive orange eyes.

A vicious and devious fighter, the bajang delights in attacking the wounded, weak, or otherwise helpless. This monster seldom negotiates, and it may be incapable of telling the truth even to save its own life.

For Barbarians of Lemuria

Attributes: Strength 2, Agility 2, Mind 1

Combat Abilities: 2 bony claws +1, damage d6-1 plus poison; Defence 1; Protection 0; Lifeblood 12

Special: The bajang can turn into a small wild cat at will. It uses magic as if it has two ranks in the magician career. Bajang poison forces the victim to make a Hard strength roll to avoid suffering from painful cramps that impose a -1 penalty to strength and agility for 1d6+1 minutes.

For Dungeon World

Intelligent, Magical, Medium, Solitary, Stealthy
Bony Claws (d10 damage, messy)
16 HP
0 Armor
Instinct: To terrorize the weak
* Ambush even the alert
* Form of a wild cat
* Weave enchantments of disease and loss

For Swords & Wizardry

An opponent struck by the bajang’s claws must make a saving throw or succumb to the monster’s poison, which inflicts wracking pains that cause a -1 penalty on all saving throws and attack rolls for the next 1d6 + 1 rounds. The poison’s effect is cumulative; each failed saving throw increases the penalty and adds one round to the duration. In its natural form, the bajang can cast control winds, hold person, and locate object three times per day each. It can cast cloudkill once per day.

In wildcat form, the bajang retains the Armor Class, Hit Dice, movement, and hit points of its original form. It attacks three times per round, inflicting 1-2 points of damage for each successful bite and front claw attack. If both forepaw attacks are successful in the same round, it can attempt two rear claw attacks for an additional 1-2 points of damage each. A bajang cannot cast spells while in wildcat form.

HD 6; AC 2 (17); Atks 2 claws (1d4 plus poison); SV 11; Special 10% magic resistance, change form, poison, spells; MV 12; AL C; CL/XP 11/1,700

November 27th, 2014  in RPG No Comments »

“This forest sucks!”

The humid night breeze rustled the leaves, which shifted just enough to reveal the corpse’s pallid arm.

“Look,” the thief said, pointing.

The thief’s companions followed the finger with their eyes. The leaves covering the body rustled some more, revealing more of the corpse.

“What caused all those wounds?” the fighter said.

“I have a better question,” said the wizard. “Why are those leaves starting to swirl about when the wind hasn’t picked up?”

The pile of leaves, as if they heard the wizard’s query, roared into a vortex of autumn colors before they raced toward the adventurers.

“We’re in trouble,” said the cleric, gripping his holy symbol.

Vampire Tree

The tree itself is immobile, but its leaves fly in swarms at night, hunting for prey much like vampire bats. When a swarm of leaves has drank their fill, they fly back, reattaching their swollen bodies to their branches to pump the blood into the tree. A vampire tree possesses dim intelligence, and its leaves have rudimentary visual and auditory senses combined with keen olfactory powers. A vampire tree fears fire, and will never send its leaves near flame.

For Barbarians of Lemuria

A full-grown vampire tree has hundreds of leaves. The stats below are for the tree’s leaves. The tree itself has no attributes or combat abilities.

Attributes: (for a batch of 10 or so leaves) Strength -3, Agility 3, Mind -1

Combat Abilities: Batch of Leaves +4, damage d6-1; Defence 4; Protection 0; Lifeblood 5

For Dungeon World

Large, Solitary
Flock of Leaves (d8+1 damage, 2 piercing)
20 HP
1 Armor
Close, Reach
Instinct: To drain blood
* Blend into woodlands
* Control flying, blood-sucking leaves
* Fill the air with danger

For Swords & Wizardry

These creatures use their leaves as weapons, releasing the leaves from the branches to fly toward prey. The leaves attempt to attach themselves (attacking as 12 HD monsters) to a body. When attached, they suck blood, doing 2d4 points of damage per attached leaf. Damage is automatic after the first successful attack, each attached leaf continuing to drain 2d4 hit points per round. The leaves are AC 9, and each has only 2 hit points, plus any hit points drained from the victim. The leaves will return to the tree when any being travels more than 120 yards from the parent tree or when the creature has no blood left. The tree can only control 10 leaves at a time. Vampire trees save vs. fire at a -2 penalty, and take +1 extra point of damage for every die of damage done by flame.

HD 12; AC 0 (19); Atks 1d10 leaves (2d4); SV 3 (18 for leaves); Special never surprised, vampiric leaves, fire vulnerability; MV 12 flying (leaves only); AL C; CL/XP 16/3,200

November 26th, 2014  in RPG No Comments »

The Girl in the Water Tower

In life, her name was Annabella Jenkins. She was a student at New Falls High School, but she had few interactions with her peers during the school day due to her mental disability keeping her out of general education classes. Pretty and too trusting, Annabella desired very much to fit in, to have friends, to go to dances, and, above all, to have a boyfriend like Cindy Robinson had.

It was this latter desire that Cindy and some of her friends used to lure Annabella to the catwalk around the town’s watertower. Everyone, even Annabella, for a time had fun. A few beers and a few cigarettes were shared. When things took a turn toward the ugly, it took most of the high schoolers a while to notice. Annabella was the last to notice, and by then she’d agreed to go swimming in the tower.

Frustrated, angry at herself, and too ashamed to admit that she was being made fun of, Annabella climbed the rest of the way to the top of the tower. One of the boys opened it, and Annabella jumped in. It proved a fatal mistake. Pretty and too trusting Annabella drowned. Of course, the death shocked and saddened the town, but shock and sadness were all the justice Annabella got.

The Girl in the Water Tower is a Scary Monster.

The Girl in the Water Tower is scary when it throws down its hair. It wants a real friend.

Fight 4
Grab 5
Chase 3
Scare 3

It’s a drowned teenage girl.
Its hair snakes, stretches, and entangles.
It can appear as it did in life.
It cannot be away from the watertower during the day.

Health 40
Terror 8

Climb Like a Spider ØØØ
* Scuttle Rapidly (Chase +2)
* Stick to Walls and Ceilings

Dangerous Hair ØØØ
* Entangling Mess (Move -1)
* Grab at a Distance
* Wield Weapons (Damage +1)

Weep Horribly ØØ
* Mind-Numbing Grief (Think -2)

November 25th, 2014  in RPG No Comments »