Thursday, February 21, 2008

Four Days, Four Posts. Go Me!

Today, as promised....Kobolds.

Kobolds
Kobolds, like goblins, are among the smallest and least physically intimidating of the humanoid races. Also somewhat like goblins, they are less prone to the sort of intertribe violence which marks relations among the larger humanoids. Beyond that, though, they are very different.

Kobolds consider themselves "Children of the Dragon", the first sentient humanoids to exist on Arith, created by the Emperor Dragons at the time of the World's Dawning. They believe they are more ancient than any race save their creators, and that they are, thus, destined to rule over all "lesser" species. The fact that they do not is evidence, they feel, of a great sin and shame they committed at some point in their own distant past. Their racial name is a corruption of the draconic word for 'outcast' or 'shamed ones'.

Other scholars consider this to be bilge, of course. They claim kobolds are no older than any other humanoid race, and that while they may have once been slaves of dragons (the mythical 'Emperor Dragons' never existed), they differ not at all from many other species who spent time in such servitude. Kobolds, it is said, have egos in inverse proportion to their size.

Lifestyle
Kobolds value cunning and skill. They believe the best way to do a job is to have someone else do it. They are not by nature lazy or irresponsible -- indeed, they are masters at certain devious crafts -- but they prefer to put their efforts towards making other people do the work. Unlike goblins, they actively seek out slaves and put prisoners to work. They also organize raids on caravans, storehouses, or cattle farms, as well as more profitable assaults on the treasure vaults of the dwarves or the hidden caches of the hill gnomes.

Kobold lairs are always deep in cave or tunnel systems, and well protected by layer after layer of traps and alarms. Trapmaking is a special art to the kobolds, and many compete to create the most ingenious -- yet still functional -- traps. While goblins will swarm an enemy, kobolds will kill foes without the enemy ever getting sight of them. They have many large, open, tunnels which larger species can easily navigate, surrounded by tiny crawlspaces used by the kobolds themselves. Only in the very deepest, best protected parts of the lair are there large open spaces for rooms, workshops, and farms (often tended by captives).

While kobolds have few wizards, they do produce a large number of sorcerers -- allegedly 'proof' of their draconic heritage. Such sorcerers are important, but they do not occupy the instant leadership position of 'blues' among goblins; there are simply too many born. Indeed, there is often vicious rivalry among them, leading to few surviving to become anything more than nuiscances.

Kobolds are polygamous, with males seeking multiple spouses based on their ability to provide -- ideally via someone else's labors. Unmarried kobolds are the ones most likely to be found outside the safety of the lair, as a single successful raid can produce enough wealth to lure a wife. All of the wives of a single kobold lay their eggs in a communal hatchery, and the children are raised by the family as a whole; only fatherhood matters.

Kobold tribes trace their origins to one of the five great Emperor Dragons, and rivalry between tribes of different Emperors is vicious, much more so than rivalry between tribes of the same emperor. Tribes always include their ancestor in their names -- the Crimson Knives, the Black Fangs, the Azure Blades. There is no (socially approved) mating or trade between tribes of different ancestors. A small number of tribes, disdained by the larger Kobold population, claim to be the outcast servants of other, stranger, dragons. While the existence of many 'lesser' or 'exotic' dragon species is known, few kobolds believe that any but the Five Emperors created them.

Religion
Kobold faith mirrors their history. The dragon gods made the kobold gods; the kobold gods made mortal kobolds to serve mortal dragons. Each of the five main branches has a different pantheon, though many non-kobold scholars insist that all of the gods are just aspects of the same root deity. The truth may never be known. Kobold clerics offer the usual wisdom, guidance, protection, and healing, as well as serving in war. Many clerics are cleric/sorcerors, and the most skilled become Mystic Theurges.

Post Crush
Kobolds have done, overall, very well since the Crush. Their few great cities were badly damaged, but none were utterly ruined. They found a new world filled with wonder which their devious little minds quickly mastered -- especially once they captured Earthborn humans to teach them what to do. Now, there are kobold cities glistening with strings of mismatched electric lights, and oddly configured stereo systems blare music throughout the cave systems. Trapmakers have learned to use electric eyes and pressure plates to enhance their art, and the elite kobold guards carry heavy pistols as two-handed weapons. Further, some of the most ingenious kobolds have begun to learn to manufacture gunpowder and have produced fairly reliable black-powder arms. Battles with other underground races, most notably goblins and orcs, are swinging in the kobolds' favor.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Down, down, to goblin town...

Hey, three posts in three days! This is what I was aiming for, not my 'once every week maybe' rate. Sorry.

Ah, another long essay on another of D&Ds surfeit of humanoids. The main thing with goblins is distinguishing them from kobolds. Small? Check. Cowardly? Check. Considered fodder? Check. In Shattered World, goblins have two marginally interesting traits -- they aren't a race of bloodthirsty backstabbers who kill each other for sport or because they're bored, unlike pretty much every other humanoid race, and they have a naturally occuring psionic 'leader' caste which can make them act very differently (as well as providing unexpected surprises for those who assume all goblins are 1/2 hit die XP on the hoof...)

Coming tomorrow (or later today, if my odd level of creative energy continues): Kobolds, aka, Arrogant Little Bastards.

Goblins
Goblins are the second-smallest and weakest of the four main goblinoid races. They were created as the 'middle management' caste by the Illithids, and given, more than any other servitor race, the gift of psionics. While each of the three major goblin races has their own legends of the rebellion, the truth of the matter is that the goblins -- the weak, despised, and often oppressed goblins -- were the true masterminds and instigators. The hobgoblins were too loyal; the bugbears too brutal. Of all the servitors, it was the goblins who first developed the notion of 'gods', and were the first to create -- or discover -- them. This new faith grew slowly underground, promulgated by the psionic leader goblins who could hide their thoughts, and the thoughts of the faithful, from their masters. By the time the Illithid suspected, it was too late -- the rebellion was spreading out of control.

When the races fought free to the surface, it was assumed by the goblins that they'd pick up where the Illithids left off. But the long war had reduced their psionics to a mere handful, and in the upper layers of the underworld,strength and size counted for a lot. The three races split and fragmented; the goblins, small and weak, were treated as inferiors or outright slaves. There were new gods, stronger gods, to support the others.

Over time, the goblins retreated to the safety and comfort of the caves. They split into many tribes, each carrying only a small part of their accumulated lore, and as millennia wore on, most of it was distorted and forgotten. Today, the goblins know nothing of their true heritage or origins; they have their own creation myths which only obliquely speak of their captivity and rebellion.

Goblins have learned to be sneaky. There is no goblin term for "fair fight"; there are only "fights you are certain to win" and "fights to avoid". Superior numbers are the primary goblin tactic; they will not attack with fewer than 4-1 odds, and prefer much greater. There are few goblin armies (except those under the command of other powers); goblins form raiding bands. You will never see a goblin force assault a town openly, but a hundred of them might boil up from the sewers, tear through a small neighborhood, and vanish again before the cry can be raised. They take prisoners rarely; they fear what the prisoners might do if they escape. They might capture and torture someone if they think he knows where treasure is, or, very rarely, kidnap someone for ransom (such plots are usually done when a Blue is leading them), but they are not generally slavetakers. They are perhaps the most "merciful" of the humanoids, preferring to kill quickly; this is done more out of fear than kindness, of course.

Goblins like traps, but they are not nearly as cunning as kobolds; they prefer simple traps which immobilize victims so that a dozen goblins can swarm out and fire bolt after bolt into the trapped intruders. If Blues are available, there will often be psionic warning systems put into place, as well.

Goblins are generally self-sufficient, though they prefer to steal if they can. Goblin smiths make passable weapons and armor, and the deep goblin cities are fully functioning centers of trade and commerce. Goblins are primarily carnivorous, but will survive off fungus and others subterranean plants if they must; they mostly herd giant slugs as meatbeasts.

Goblin tribes which have left the caves usually dwell in the deep forests, places where there are many good hiding spots. Such goblins are nomadic; there are few goblin communities on the surface.

Culture
Goblins are among the most cooperative of the humanoids, at least among themselves. Inter-tribe rivalries are settled by formalized ritual combats instead of genocidal war, and internal politics is based on cunning debate instead of raw power. The goblins automatically and instinctively defer to any 'Blue'; all such born are raised by others of their kind (if any exist). A tribe or community which has several such members often changes in character, becoming more driven to conquest or expansion, though still in an essentially cowardly fashion.

Indeed, cowardice is a virtue among goblins, not a vice. To survive to run away is no shame. "Come back without your shield, without your sword, without your leg...but come back!" is the goblin military credo. "Don't let them see the yellows of your eyes!" is another. "Brave" and "Foolish" are synonyms.

Goblin solidarity does not, of course, extend to any non-goblin race, especially not to the dwarves, who are the goblins most vicious foes. The fact goblins are unusually peaceful among themselves does not make them one whit less savage or brutal when dealing with other races. They are almost incapable of making cross-racial deals without treachery or deceit; they never seek to share territory. They will not fight to their own extinction, but will flee rather than live in peace with a powerful neighbor.

Religion is very important to the goblins. They have one of the largest pantheons recorded, and it is often uncertain if the gods are all unique, or are merely different aspects of a smaller number of true deities. Individual gods in the goblin pantheon tend to be weak and highly focused, with few greater gods wielding mighty powers. Much like the goblins themselves, their gods must cooperate to get things done.

Goblins are communal in terms of family and childrearing. They do not marry or form any kind of long-lasting relationships, and are very sexually egalitarian -- another difference from the other humanoid races. Goblins seeking sex will try to bribe a potential mate with gifts and treasures, usually stolen. This is one of the few things which can make a goblin brave -- or at least, less cowardly. Showing daring in the pursuit of a mating-gift is considered admirable (and does a good job of keeping the goblin stock from degenerating completely). As is typical, a 'Blue' does not need to engage in such feats; they merely need to express interest and the object of their affection will almost always comply.

Children are raised by the community and parentage is rarely a matter of record. There is some measure of status in having had many mates, and goblins will often wear tokens from each mate as a way of 'showing off'.

Post Crush
The Crush had surprisingly little impact on the goblins. They lost some of their largest cities in the cataclysm, but they didn't have many to begin with; they were always a widespread people. Tribes which were partially destroyed managed to merge with other tribes and regroup. The destruction of their enemies, especially the dwarves, only benefitted them.

Goblin communities are widespread, but the largest are in the eastern mountains. They are not afraid of technology, but neither are they comfortable with it, and rarely adopt or use it. They do not actively attack holdfasts, but will raid trading caravans if they have an edge, or find passages into towns and use them to conduct lightning-fast assaults.

Of late, though, some goblins have been on the move -- large bands have been spotted migrating. These bands are always led by one or more blues, and engage in some very un-goblin-like behavior, such as directly attacking foes and not retreating until the situation is truly desperate, as opposed to at the point where they take any casualties at all.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

The Floating City

Ah, slowly filling in the gaps. A few things -- part of my world background/future history assumes much higher levels of tension between the US and the former USSR and China, leading to a lot more military bases, underground shelters, and advanced military technology. It also lets me re-open closed bases and give Philadelphia an active military shipyard.

Floating City Of New Philadelphia
The entire eastern seaboard, densely populated on both Earth and Arith, cracked into a chain of rocky islands in a single hour of cataclysm -- followed up, a few days later, by a series of nuclear strikes which lined the Shattered Coast with worldholes, great magical tears between planes. Tens of millions died instantly (and some theorize that this much psychic stress must account for something), but many survived and had to decide what to do next.

The Philadelphia Naval Base, closed in the mid 1990s and converted to civilian use, had been reactivated by the military in 2015, as foreign tensions increased to greater than Cold War levels. Several destroyers and smaller ships were regularly docked there, and by a fortunate coincidence, were out to sea on the day of the Crush. While the captain of the Olympus chose to take his ship and its support group deeper out to sea, Captain Craig Kallisto of the destroyer Gallatin decided to attempt a rescue of survivors now trapped in the drowned ruins of Philadelphia. Risking disaster by navigating the rocky and storm tossed waters, he managed to save a few hundred people, and used a mix of bluster and force to 'recruit' anyone in the area with working boats -- from sport fishermen to yachtsmen -- into helping him. By the time he had saved everyone he felt could be saved, New Jersey had been nuked and it was painfully obvious there was nowhere safe to go. (The first attack on the smaller ships of the Gallatin fleet by sahuagin raiders convinced him of that....)

He found that most of the survivors didn't want to leave, and of course had nowhere to go. The thought of transporting hundreds of civilian refugees on a wild hunt for a safe haven didn't appeal to him. Partly by inertia and indecision, the survivors started to settle in, the fleet drifting among the ruins. The seas of Arith, now mixed with those of Earth, contained fish in a density not seen in the Atlantic for decades. Small islands proved stable enough for subsistence farming. The mad tangle of ruins proved very defensible, and a few dozen depth charges wiped out the sahuagin city which had appeared a mile or so offshore, ending the most regular threat.

The Gallatin itself is anchored, its fuel long since exhausted. It and its sister ships, bedecked with every scavenged solar panel that could be found, form the hub of a dispersed, half-floating, city. Smaller craft, capable of running on alcohol or biodiesel, provide an active coast guard, protecting converted fishing boats. Dozens of small islands are covered in crops, providing steady if not always varied food, and regular runs into the ruined suburban sprawl return all sorts of useful treasures. In 12 PC, a diving expedition found and recovered the Liberty Bell, which is now displayed on the foredeck of the Gallatin.

As with a lot of post-Crush societies, democracy has taken a back seat to expediency. Captain Kallisto considered the situation to be a state of emergency justifying martial law, and nothing since the Crush has changed this perception. When Kallisto died in PC 18 (of, oddly enough, natural causes), his second-in-command, Julius Operman, took over as Captain, and there was very little dissent over this. Society is divided between 'the fleet' and 'the ciies', and while all able-bodied citizens are expected to form up when ordered to do so during an attack or invasion, there is no formal draft -- indeed, joining the fleet is difficult if one comes from a 'civvie' background, and marrying an officer is considered a major social move. The 'civvies' elect or appoint ombudsmen to represent their interests, and there are monthly public meetings where complaints, issues, or concerns can be voiced.

The Floating City is currently at a state of semi-peace with its neighbors, though tensions are high. The tritons of Siliamish have engaged in several skirmishes with fishing boats which have entered 'their' waters, but there is also a mutual protection pact against the sahuagin who still sometimes raid from south. There are several holdfasts surrounding the Floating City which view it will suspicion; its military outlook and the fear of an expansionist leader coming to power worry many of the locals.

Outsiders are generally not turned away, but are also not encouraged to say. There is a flotilla of trading barges which is moored on the outer edges of the fleet's claimed territory, and this is where merchants and wanderers are expected to stay. Private arms above the level of a shortsword are not permitted; Fleet officers maintain weapon lockers where all such items are stored during visits. Petitions for citizenship are possible, but closely scrutinized.

As with many Earthborn holdfasts, magic is viewed with suspicion, but it's too useful to be banned. Three sorcerers have been born to the locals over the years, all of whom ended up being "recruited" into the fleet; in addition, attempts have been made to master the arts of wizardry, though with few Arithian teachers and no real books of arcane lore, it has been painfully slow going. The ship's chaplain developed 'miraculous' powers, of course. The fleet maintains no 'official' faith, in accordance with military regulations, but the New Unified Church Of The One God is the most popular religion, its missionaries being both enthusiastic and willing to perform miracles on demand. Those claiming a need for religious services are often allowed to travel, escorted, to one of the several floating places of worship, which include one of the only surviving synagogues.

Non-humans and Arithian humans are rare. A few have petitioned for citizenship over the years, but the Floating City is very strongly Earthborn in character and is, if not actively hostile to Arithians, profoundly unwelcoming.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Get Your Kicks On Route..er...70...

If I ever do this commercially, I will have to do a Route 66 supplement. For now, however, this is a "sketch" of Route 70, specifically the part from Indiana to Pennsylvania. Why? Because the PCs are crossing it in "downtime", and I want the players to make up some Cool Stuff that happens en route. There's a lot of points here I want to detail in the future; I could drill down to do a dozen pages on a single city-ruin if I need to, but for now, this general 'sense of the place' will have to do.

And of course, in so doing, I realized I needed to do a history of Mantaros, the kingdom which occupied the Northeast region on Arith. Since I included a throwaway reference to a floating sky-palace, I then leap to the conclusion that Mantaros, already established as the oldest kingdom of the Alliance, was one of those very magic-heavy kingdoms, with cities filled with magical wonders of all sorts -- which naturally self-destructed dramatically when the Crush came. Look for some more essays soon, and sorry about the long gap.



For those traveling across the northern part of the former United States, the best and safest road -- and this is using very qualified definitions of 'best' and 'safest' -- is the former Route 70, which was also a series of wide, Roman-style paved roads on Arith. Today, of course, it is a cracked and broken ruin -- impassable in many parts -- but still the closest thing to a direct east-west route in the area.

It passes through many dead and ruined cities, which creates a need for long detours for those not brave or foolish enough to enter the monster haunted ruins. Indianapolis is a swirling madhouse due to the Worldhole created during the Day of Fire; Columbus escaped the nukes but remains a deadly jumble of fallen buildings and lethal lairs; the outskirts of Pittsburgh hold strange and twisted creatres which spawn from its own reality-twisting center.

Monsters native to the area include roaming bands of gnolls and orcs, as well as bullettes, ankhegs, and wild wyverns (often confused with dragons by the Earthborn; Arithians laugh at such childish errors). There are bands of hill giants in many parts of western Ohio, as well as their ogre cousins. Ragedrakes are known to dwell in the Pittsburgh region. Rogue golems, freed from the spells which bound them and filled with rage at their enslavement, are common near the old Ohio border, where an academy of magic specializing in the art of soulless constructs (all mages learned well the lesson of Skallidane!) once stood in the kingdom of Marridon. Countless dozens of other monstrosities exist in lesser numbers.

The Pittsburgh worldhole is a partial gateway to a part of the Elemental Plane of Earth, one made of every kind of hard metal. As a consequence, creatures surrounding it have become things of living metal, of lead and iron and even adamantine, though they are not constructs nor golems, but creatures of metal flesh.

Columbus is a wild zone, a tangled mess of ruined skyscrapers mixed with the remnants of high magic, as it was an old city, called Jaliath, in Mantaros. Its most spectacular feature was the Emerald Minaret, the flying palace of the Baron of Jaliath. During the crush, the Minaret shattered, the lower half falling to earth, the upper half remaining afloat. The Baron and his family are presumed dead, but the remnant of the twisted spire still defends itself, firing green beams of arcane energy at any fliers foolish enough to approach. Not a few rogues of Arith idly dream of a plot to enter the place, as the treasures of the old Baron are said to be of incaculable worth...

Once the mountains of middle Pennsylvania (or the Kraz Kar Haj) are reached, the threat of orcs and goblins becomes more dire, as these species have laid claim to much of this area, and while they are not well organized, they are numerous, and regularly raid for food and slaves. There are a few dozen faltering Dwarvish fortresses scattered along the range, most deeply paranoid and mistrustful, and so cunningly hidden an army could march over their front door and never know it. The mountains also hold dire beasts.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Happy Johnson and Huggy

Over on RPG.net, in a thread on customizing monsters and why 4e's simplified system was better than 3x's "everyone works by the same rules" system, someone commented on the pointlessness of being able to give Perform skills to a choker.

Ladies and gentlemen, Happy Johnson and Huggy!

Happy Johnson, formerly Bandolimiir, was one of uncounted itinerant bards of Arith, making his way from town to town as part of a general troupe of entertainers. When the Crush hit, the open road upon which they had been traveling suddenly became a 4-lane superhighway filled with speeding vehicles, smashing the caravan and scattering the survivors into the surrounding towns.

Bandoloimiir barely managed to escape with his life and fiddle. Never a fighter, he spent the next few weeks mostly in hiding, trying to avoid both newly-emboldened monsters and Earthborn humans who couldn't tell him from an orc. Taking shelter in a mostly-looted mall, he happened on a box of "Happy Johnson" brand joke t-shirts. Not yet speaking English, but enjoying the comical art (and soft cloth), he made off with a few.

Eventually, hunger drove him to seek shelter among a band of humans traveling in a self-propelled metal house. (This was while there was still ample gas to scavenge easily.) He used his various perform talents...and a hasty Charm spell..to win them over. As he expected, they found his antics adorable and him harmless, so he became their companion as he learned all he could about the new world which had been formed. They found his oversized t-shirt truly hilarious, and quickly gave him his new name. Once he learned enough English to "get" the joke, he decided it was a perfect icebreaker -- no one would attack someone named Happy Johnson, after all!

Once he felt confident enough to move on, he did so, bartering entertainment for transit and food. It was during a dark and stormy night (sigh), taking shelter in a cave, that he met Huggy.
Huggy was an infant choker, abandoned and alone, and too feeble to actually harm anyone. Happy, on a whim, desided to feed the poor thing, and managed to raise him as a sort of pet and companion. Dressed in a makeshift clown outfit and taught to do acrobatic tricks, "Huggy" is a main part of Happy's act. Arithians are often fearful or nervous, but Earthborn -- who are Happy's main audience -- usually don't know about chokers and consider Huggy to be just a strange sort of midget.

Happy is not a fighter, and he knows it. If he is going into dangerous territory, he will seek out powerful company. If on his own, he will use his natural charm, comedic skills, and sometimes magic to make himself some friends and protectors. He does all he can to come across as harmless and non-threatening, which he mostly is. If a fight breaks out, he will use his magic to slow/distract pursuers and leave as fast as he can, though he will not abandon Huggy.

HAPPY JOHNSON CR 5
Gnome; bard 5
CG Small humanoid ( gnome )
Init +0; Senses Low-light, Listen +4, Spot +2
Languages Common, Gnome
AC 15, touch 11, flat-footed 15; ,
hp 20 (5 HD)
Fort +1, Ref +4, Will +6
Speed 20 ft. (4 squares)
Ranged masterwork crossbow (light/small) +5 (1d6 /19-20 )
Melee rapier +1 (small) +5 (1d4+1 /18-20 )
Face 5 ft. Reach 5 ft.
Base Atk +3; Grp -1
Known Bard Spells (CL 5): 0th - dancing lights , ghost sound (DC 13) , lullaby (DC 12) , mending (DC 12) , prestidigitation (DC 12) , summon instrument 1st - charm person (DC 13) , comprehend languages , hideous laughter (DC 13) , sleep (DC 13) 2nd - alter self , eagle's splendor (DC 14) , enthrall (DC 14)
Prepared Spells Spell-Like Abilities (CL 1):
speak with animals ( 1/day) dancing lights ( 1/day) ghost sound ( DC 12, 1/day) prestidigitation ( DC 12, 1/day)
Abilities Str 10, Dex 10, Con 10, Int 14, Wis 14, Cha 15
SQ +1 racial bonus on attack rolls against kobolds and goblinoids., +2 racial bonus on saving throws against illusions., +4 Dodge bonus to Armor Class against monsters of the giant type., Bardic knowledge (+7), Bardic music 9/day, Countersong (Su) for up to 10 rounds, Fascinate (Sp) can effect 2 creatures for up to 5 rounds, Inspire Competence (Su) +2 to skill checks for up to 2 minutes, Inspire Courage (Su) +1 to saves against charm or fear effects and +1 morale bonus on attack and damage rolls (Concentration + 5 rounds)., May wear light armor without incurring the normal arcane spell failure chance., Speak with Animals (burrowing mammal only, duration 1 minute).
Feats Armor Proficiency (Light), Extra Music, Negotiator, Shield Proficiency, Simple Weapon Proficiency
Skills Balance +8, Bluff +10, Climb +5, Diplomacy +16, Disguise +4, Disguise (Act in character) +6, Escape Artist +2, Perform (Comedy) +6, Perform (Sing) +8, Perform (String Instruments) +8, Sense Motive +9, Sleight of Hand +9, Tumble +5,
Possessions mithral shirt; musical instrument (fiddle); potion of misdirection; rapier +1 (small); Masterwork Crossbow (Light/Small) ;

HUGGY CR 2
Choker; aberration 3
TN Small aberration
Init +7; Senses Darkvision (60'), Listen +1, Spot +1
Languages Undercommon
AC 18, touch 14, flat-footed 15; ,
hp 23 (3 HD)
Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +4
Speed 20 ft. (4 squares) Climb 10 ft.
Melee tentacle +5/+5 (1d3+2 )
Face 5 ft. Reach 10 ft.
Base Atk +2; Grp +4
Abilities Str 14, Dex 17, Con 14, Int 8, Wis 12, Cha 11
SQ Aberration Traits, Constrict (Ex), Improved Grab (Ex), Quickness (Su)
Feats Acrobatic, Improved Initiative, Skill Focus (Tumble)
Skills Move Silently +4, Perform (Comedy) +2,
Possessions tentacle;

Friday, January 25, 2008

Illithid Sex

See, the 'official' name for Mind Flayers is 'illithids', so, it's sort of a pun on 'illicit' and...oh, forget it.

Mind Flayers
In vast, deep, underground cities sprawls the Empire Of The Mind Flayers...both the most widespread and the weakest of the Three Dark Powers Below. ("Weak" being a rather relative term, of course...)

Arithian history begins in ancient and forgotten times, easily 50,000 years in its past. At that time, there are few records of intelligent surface-dwellers; the only races whose recorded history goes back so far are those who dwell in the darkness below. Secure in their caves, they created many forms of life, opened portals to other worlds, built empires and dominions that spanned creation, and grew old, insular, corrupt, and debased.

The mind flayers (their racial name for themselves is purely psionic, and cannot be pronounced by humans) were the most comprehensible of the older races. They were also the masters of creation, breeding many subject races in their great vats. They enjoyed the taste of sapient thought, and crafted beings for flavor as well as utility. Many of the surface races, though they know it not, began life as cattle.

Something happened, though, long ago, which caused the fall of the great empire. To create servants worth feasting upon, the Mind Flayers needed to give them souls. The Flayers themselves, soulless and godless, did not understand that soul-stuff calls to soul-stuff. The servitors needed gods, believed in gods...and found gods. Some claim their belief created the gods from the raw energy of the universe; some claim their need called out to already-existing gods who took them in and appeared to them as they believed. Either way, the gods empowered the slaves, enabling them to rebel. (Tens of millennia later, the same would occur on Skallidane). The Empire, vast and disconnected, did not fall all at once, nor did every slave rebel, but bit by bit, it crumbled, and the freed races fled upwards, finding a surface world free of any dominant power.

Today, most of the great empire is in ruins. Many of the former cities, outposts, and fortresses are in ruins; others are held by new powers. A few places, though, are still in the control of the Flayers; such locales are deep, hidden, secret, and deadly.

Very recently, a great psychic tremor -- and an equally great physical one -- passed through all of the Underworld. Sensing that the world has changed greatly, the ancient powers, long content to sit and dream alien dreams of forgotten glory, are extending their tendrils outward and upward...


Culture
Psionics informs everything Mind Flayers do. They exist in a world alive with thought. They build their cities of psychoactive crystal, and their language is a mixture of simple words and complex psychic overtones. Their writing, a seemingly random sequence of colored shapes and lines, is likewise imbued with psychic impact; to a Mind Flayer, each shape and color triggers a stored memory of a complex concept. A red triangle of a certain size and shape might mean 'Enemies are approaching'; a green hexagon following it might impart 'The are beholders, six of them'. Almost imperceptible differences in shade, size, and angle can change the meaning of a symbol dramatically, and a non-psionic, or a psion who has not absorbed the training of the Mind Flayer, can not easily learn even the simplest part of the language.

Mind Flayers cannot conceive of other thinking beings as possessing any inherent right to exist. They are food, slaves, and entertainment, nothing more. The best one can hope for from a Mind Flayer is to be seen as an amusing pet; this is where other races' psions tend to be categorized. Among themselves, they lack any emotions of love, affection, or compassion, but they also tend to lack the virulent hatred and treachery which define the other great powers of the Underworld. Mind Flayers can cooperate, form successful communities, and work together for a goal. They are not prone to self-sacrifice or to put any kind of collective good ahead of their own, but they do understand the concept of "Either some of us die, or all of us die" and have traditions and means of choosing a sacrifice when it is necessary.


Biology
Mind Flayers are naturally hermaphroditic, and mostly disinterested in sex. Indeed, it is almost never the case that two will mate. Rather, at a random point late in a Mind Flayer's life, it will spontaneously impregnate itself. The young grow inside the parent, using their latent psionic power and direct, physical, connection to its nervous system to control it, forcing it to seek out shelter and isolation. Then they burst forth, killing the parent, but devouring its mind and some portion of its memory and personality, allowing it to 'live' in a way, scattered among its 5-10 children. Because the children, at first, share portions of a single mind, they will cooperate and help each other, until the squirm (collective noun for a Mind Flayer kids) has grown strong enough to rejoin greater civilization. By this time, most of them will have died, prey to other forces of the Underworld; usually, no more than 1 to 2 survive to adolescence. The adolescents have developed enough experiences of their own that they are unique beings, and have only a dim sense of ever 'being' their parent.

Mind Flayers are basically humanoid in shape, with flexible cartilage for bones and a head which looks like a 4-tentacled octopus. They live on a diet of fungus, insects, and brains. They do not need much brain to live -- once a month is sufficient -- but they need at least a pound of it. Sapient brains are much preferred, both for flavor and the fact that they need the neurochemicals of a thinking mind to fuel their own psionic powers. A Mind Flayer denied access to sapient brains for three months loses all of their psychic abilities; this is a common form of punishment or control among the community.


Outcasts
Of course, there are always exceptions. For as long as any can recall, some Mind Flayers, a rare few, have not been content to be part of the complex and convoluted machine which Mind Flayer society. They desire power for its own sake. Often unable to find this among their fellows, who will swat down the impudent one, they leave to become lords of their own pretty domains. It is these renegades and radicals who were the first to sense the great change which came upon the world, and it is they who have begun to explore the long-forgotten routes to the brightly lit hell which is the surface.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Smarter Than The Average Half-Fire Elemental Awakened Bear....

Another bit of random geography to be more fully detailed later...and an NPC...


The Yellowstone Inferno

It is a well known fact that Yellowstone park sits atop a dormant supervolcano which might explode at any moment – it's a few thousand years overdue. In the instant of the Crush, the overlapping geological instability triggered just such an eruption. Fortunately, it was not the world-destroying event predicted, in large part because the underworld of Arith was much more open (and thus, less lava-filled) than the subsurface of Earth. However, it was still catastrophic. The entire region was consumed in a chain reaction of volcanic activity, turning forests, mountains, and lakes into a wasteland of black ash and lava.

Worse, such an explosion, in a time of great magical instability, ripped open elemental walls. The Yellowstone Inferno is now riddled with gates to the planes of Earth, Fire, and Magma. Elementals of all three planes, mephits, fire giants, azer, and similar beings have all laid claims to portions of the wasteland. The surrounding region defies all attempts to tame it; there is no demi-human or humanoid civilization within a hundred miles of the central eruption, and those who live on the borders of the Inferno are elementally tainted. Half-elementals, elemental blooded, and stranger things are born there, and natural creatures are often caught up in vortexes of elemental energy and transformed. Of course, there are elementally infused ores to be found here, as well as other rare and magical substances...

The nearest outposts of civilization remaining are the American Falls Holdfast, The G'rukh Mag dwarven fort, and Pines Blowing West, an Elven settlement. Trade between the three is limited, but in the past few years, all have agreed to contribute a few dozen men to a series of patrols which monitors the western border of the Inferno for major incursions, as well as trying to keep bugbear and orc activity under control, an effort which grows more difficult with each passing year. Rumors abound that some being of power – a red dragon, an evoker with a love of fire, an elemental baron, or even something stranger – has begun to tame the Inferno for its own ends, but these are dismissed as travelers tales of little merit.

There are further rumors that the slowly-recovering outskirts of the Inferno are patrolled by a most unique guardian...

Name: Yuggi, Guardian Of The Inferno
Race: Brown Bear (Awakened)
Player:
Classes: Animal8 Druid10
Hit Points: 175
Experience: 153000 / 171000
Alignment: True Neutral
Vision: Low-light
Speed: Walk 40 ft.
Languages: Druidic, Ignan

Stat Score Mod
STR 24 (+7)
DEX 14 (+2)
CON 21 (+5)
INT 10 (+0)
WIS 17 (+3)
CHA 12 (+1)

-------------------------- Skills --------------------------
Skill Total Rnk Stat Msc
Climb 9 2.0 7 0
Concentration 9 4.0 5 0
Concentration (Cast defensively) 13 4.0 5 4
Diplomacy 4 3.0 1 0
Handle Animal 4 3.0 1 0
Heal 7 2.0 3 2
Knowledge (Nature) 9 5.0 0 4
Listen 9 4.0 3 2
Spot 10 5.0 3 2
Survival 14 7.0 3 4
Survival (Natural environments) 16 7.0 3 6
Swim 13 2.0 7 4


-------------------------- Feats ---------------------------
Alertness
You get a +2 bonus on all Listen checks and Spot checks.

Combat Casting
You get a +4 bonus on Concentration checks made to cast a spell or use a spell-like ability while on the defensive or while you are grappling or pinned.

Improved Natural Attack (Claw)
The damage for the selected natural weapon increases by one step, as if the creature's size had increased by one category.

Multiattack
The creature's secondary attacks with natural weapons take only a -2 penalty.

Natural Spell
You can complete the verbal and somatic components of spells while in a wild shape. You can also use any material components or focuses you possess, even if such items are melded within your current form.

Self-Sufficient
You get a +2 bonus on all Heal checks and Survival checks.

Weapon Focus (Claw)
Armor Proficiency (Light)
When you wear a type of armor with which you are proficient, the armor check penalty for that armor applies only to Balance, Climb, Escape Artist, Hide, Jump, Move Silently, Pick Pocket, and Tumble checks.

Armor Proficiency (Medium)
When you wear a type of armor with which you are proficient, the armor check penalty for that armor applies only to Balance, Climb, Escape Artist, Hide, Jump, Move Silently, Pick Pocket, and Tumble checks.

Shield Proficiency

-------------------- Special Abilities ---------------------
Animal Companion (Ex)
Animal Traits
Improved Grab (Ex)
Nature Sense (Ex)
Resist Nature's Lure (Ex)
Scent (Ex)
Spontaneous casting - Can spontaneously cast Summon Nature's Ally spells
Trackless Step (Ex)
Venom Immunity (Ex)
Wild Empathy (Ex) +11 (+7 on Magical Beasts)
Wild Shape (Su) 4/day for 10 hours (Large)
Woodland Stride (Ex)


------------------------ Templates -------------------------
Awakened Animal

-------------------------- Combat --------------------------

Total / Touch / Flat Footed
AC: 21 / 16 / 19

Initiative: +2
BAB: +13/+8/+3
Melee tohit: +19/+14/+9
Ranged tohit: +14/+9/+4

Fortitude: +21
Reflex: +14
Will: +15

Unarmed attack:
to hit: +19/+14/+9
damage: 1d4+7
critical: 20/x2

Bite:
to hit: +17
damage: 2d6+3
critical: 20/x2

Claw:
to hit: +20/+20
damage: 2d6+7
critical: 20/x2

--------------------- Special Abilities --------------------


------------------------- Equipment ------------------------
Name QTY LBS
Amulet of Natural Armor +3 1 0lbs
Cloak of Resistance +3 1 1lbs
Ring (Protection +2) 1 0lbs

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

New York, New York

OK, no more pointless 4e snarkfests. Besides, there's been just the tiniest trickle of things which give me hope it might not totally suck (though the new licensing program sure isn't one of them...). Anyway...

New York City is my hometown (more or less), so it always gets some focus in any kind of modern or post-disaster game. This is mostly a sketch of the city, a framework into which other ideas can pour. Half-ruined skyscrapers as fortress kingdoms, trade between them as if on the canals of Venice, twisted winged creatures flitting from rooftop to rooftop, and obscene monsters lurking in the drowned tunnels below...

(Someone fund me. I wanna write the supplement for this!)

But for now, a few paragraphs...and an organization.

I had no intention of writing up the Wyvern Lords when I started writing this essay. I just kept writing, and there they were, aging fanatics yearning for a dying dream, proud warriors twisted by self-hatred, missing the chance to build a new world because they are blinded by tears for the loss of the old...there's a lot of story hooks there.

This happens to me a lot. I just start writing, and ideas fall into place, and I end an essay somewhere I never expected it to go...

New York City
In 2020, New York City was a primary center of trade, industry, and commerce, with the metro region home to some 23 million people. The city was little different than it was in the early 21st century; the skyline had grown slightly, and the sprawl was even denser in the surrounding regions, but it had not experienced any radical changes in size or status.

The Crush struck it hard, as it did most of the Eastern Seaboard. Manhattan buckled and crumbled. Staten Island fractured. A rift cracked along the center of Long Island, destroying Brooklyn and Queens, along with must of the suburban sprawl. Bridges and tunnels collapsed under the strain, cutting the islands off from food -- not that there would be any coming, anyway. While millions survived the initial disaster, the death toll in the next few months was catastrophic; the region could not support a hundredth of its current population, and most died in fighting over the scarce resources.

In addition, the same place on Arith was home to the capital of Mantaros, the oldest of the Alliance Of Free Kingdoms. The largest city in Mantaros, Azalian, sprawled over the region, a blending of five older cities merged into a single political entity, and a center of learning, culture, and spellcraft. While almost overwhelmed in the merger, its population had power if not numbers, and reacted predictably to the seeming attack. Wyvern-riding troops mobilized from shattered rookeries. Wizards climbed out of the ruins of their towers and unleashed fire, ice, and choking gas on rioting mobs. Beings of all lands and races, trapped and confused, lashed out at anything which seemed hostile -- or which could not defend itself.

The result, inevitably, was slaughter. Millions died in the first few weeks, trapped in the ruins without food or potable water. Those who tried to swim often drowned in the tempests which followed the shattering of the coast, or were killed by monsters. Some, of course, made it, and surviving Coast Guard and naval units (both Earthborn and Arithian) did all they could. Sometime during this time, the nuclear-powered aircraft carrier Olympus sailed out to sea, with a full compliment of crew and planes, and, rumor has it, significant supplies seized from whatever stores they could find.

After a few months, the major fighting ended. Most of the populace which could flee, did; the rest entered a state of spiteful detente. Surviving skyscrapers became fortresses. Canny residents learned to set up fishing nets from fifth-floor windows to find food, and built rooftop stills and desalinization plants. A few managed to rig up solar panels to provide limited power. The city ruins could not support more than miniscule fraction of the old population, but New Yorkers in any universe are tough...

New York has the honor of being one of the few major American cities to not be consumed by a worldhole -- much as with Chicago, nukes aimed at it missed, striking New Jersey and creating the Blighted Woods. It is still in ruins, however. About one building in 10 is still standing. Manhattan is now submerged under about 40 feet of water, leaving many of the ruined buildings still partially visible, and turning navigation into a lethal game. Locals who have learned the lay of the land -- well, of the water -- and know which patterns of ripples spell a sharp steel shard ready to slice a hull in half -- can navigate the treacherous waters with relative safety -- they are much calmer than the Sparred Sea, but outsiders would be advised to travel slowly -- and know how to swim.

The largest land area still semi-habitable is Staten Island, or parts thereof. Relatively undeveloped, it offered areas which could be farmed by survivors. Several holdfasts exist on the island, some Arithian and some Earthborn, and there are constant brushfire wars between them.

The great buildings, ruined or not, of Manhattan provide an attractive nesting place for monsters, especially winged ones. A harpy colony rules the former Broadway area. Wyverns, now feral and wild, constantly prowl the skies. Assorted humanoids, mostly tribal exiles, have laid claim to various buildings. And there are rumors...rumors only, mind you...that the flooded and collapsed subway tunnels have, somehow, merged with darker and deeper caverns, home to things unknown and unknowable...

There are also more venal rumors -- that untold caches of wealth, stockpiles of gold and jewels, lie just below the surface or are hidden in some forgotten safe on some high level floor. Certainly, the wealthy of Manhattan did not manage to take all or even most of it with them, and some treasure must survive somewhere...Further, there is the fact that, almost forgotten in the ruins of New York lie the ruins of five of the largest Arithian cities. Artifacts, magical scrolls and treasures, strange items, powerful relics...all of these might still exist.

The Wyvern Lords
The Wyvern Lords of Azalian were once the elite fighting force of the Alliance Of Free Kingdoms, legendary for their skill, honor, and bravery. When the Crush hit, many of them survived the initial chaos, only to fall trying to protect their people or reclaim what was left of their home. A small number, seeing the odds growing desperate and hope growing slim, made a painful decision. They pulled back, leaving the sinking islands, and took refuge in the north, roughly (and ironically) in the location of Valhalla, New York. While this area, too, had been shattered by the Crush, it was generally less war-torn, and it was fairly easy for the 50 or so riders who fled -- or, as they put it, retreated -- to find shelter and a place to dig in, protecting bands of Arithian refugees who were in desperate need of such protection. Shamed by their flight, the Wyvern Lords have sworn to reclaim the lands of Azalian, and to defend all citizens of the Free Kingdoms who come seeking their aid. The Valhalla Holdfast (or, as they call it, New Azalian) is one of the largest pure-Arith holdfasts on the East Coast. The region has become an island some 15 miles across, and it is now tightly held by the Wyvern Lords. Earthborn are forced off at swordpoint; if they resist, they are killed.

The Wyvern Lords are harsh, but fair, masters to those under their protection. A military organization, they have little patience with the needs or interests of civilians, and consider themselves to be in a state of constant war. Rules in New Azalian are simple, direct, and ruthlessly enforced. All resources other than those needed for pure survival are directed towards the goal of "reclaiming Azalian", and then, the entirety of the Alliance. While most Arithians have painfully accepted that this world is neither Earth nor Arith, but a new land to which neither side has full title, the Wyvern Lords reject this conclusion utterly. This is their land; they will let no one claim otherwise.

The human Wyvern Lords, 40 of the 50 who left Azalian, are all aging; the youngest is 50. A handful of new Lords are being trained, but there is a fear that with such a small pool to pull from, the glory of the Wyvern Lords will soon fade. This has made many of them desperate; if something is not done soon, all of their dreams will come to naught. A few in the Holdfast have begun to wonder what the point would be in reclaiming a drowned ruin, when building New Azalian into a true city is a much more desirable goal, but few will wonder this out loud. Wyvern Lords have keen ears...

Monday, January 7, 2008

In Which Lizard Snarks On 4e

Not really Shattered World related, but since this blog also serves to hold my rants on game design, I might as well put it here.

Trap design in every other version of DnD.

Ug the kobold:"OK, here's a hidden trip wire, and it triggers this crossbow and then deflates this bladder, so that it blows through a horn, letting us know someone is coming."
Zug the kobold:"Looks good."

Trap design in 4e: (You may need to make a free account to read this article)
Ug the kobold:"OK, here's a hidden trip wire, and it triggers this crossbow and then deflates this bladder, so that it blows through a horn, letting us know someone is coming."
Zug the kobold:"No, that will never do. The thief will spot it and disarm it."
Ug:"Well, yeah, but he might miss it. Besides, it will warn us against goblins or even wild animals coming down the tunnel. We have enemies besides PCs."
Zug:"No, no, that's not the point! What does the FIGHTER do?"
Ug:"Kill our women and children, usually. Thus, the traps."
Zug:"No. First, you need some arcane runes for the mage to read and disable. They'll set off the fireball if he doesn't."
Ug:"We have a fireball?"
Zug:"Then, I think, we'll have the runes cast 'animate dead' on some skeletons, so the cleric can turn them.
Ug:"We have someone who can can cast that?"
Zug:"Of course, the skeletons will be trying to stop the thief from disarming the crossbow, so the fighter will have to protect him from them! Perfect! The whole party is involved!"
Ug:"You want this done by WHEN?"
Zug: "Just make sure there's something like this every 50 feet down this tunnel. But make them all different, we don't want people getting bored."
Ug:"Look, are we defending our lair or setting up a theme park ride for adventurers?"
Zug:"Theme park. Duh. Didn't you get the memo?"

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Pining Away

Another random piece of geography for people to correct my errors on. :) As someone who is from New Jersey, it's always one of the my favorite places to destroy.

The Blighted Woods
South-Central New Jersey was always a small patch of wilderness in the midst of suburban sprawl. The area was worthless for development, and ultimately attained value as a nature preserve. In 2020, it remained so, with the only commercial use being collection of rare or exotic plants to test for useful sequences of DNA. On Arith, the same region was similarly empty of settlement, and was a place where bandits, outlaws, and other such types fled to hide from encroaching justice. Autumn Druids were known to practice dark rituals there, and the places where failed towns lay in ruin were regarded as unhallowed sites prone to undead or worse.

In 2020 (or 0PC), a nuclear missile targeted at New York City veered sharply off course, landing squarely in the center of the Pine Barrens. A worldhole was created there, and the region transformed. Today (2040/20PC), the area is a twisted and warped place, a realm which is, according to some, trapped halfway between the material plane and the shadow plane. It is a dark and forboding zone, monster haunted and evil. As with much of the rest of the Eastern Seaboard, the region is now an archipelago, part of the so-called Shattered Coast, but the waters surrounding the islands are shallow and choked with black, acidic seaweed, causing some to call the region the Sargasso of Shadows. Shipwrecks exist in many places just below the surface, providing additional hazards to navigation, and in many cases, they are filled with the zombies or shadows of their drowned crews.

It is never daylight. At high noon, the Blighted Woods are still cloaked in misty twilight, and most of the time, the place is just black. Light, even magical light, is swallowed by the gloom; it is impossible for those without darkvision to see more than thirty feet ahead. The place is filled with constant noise -- trees swaying and creaking without wind to move them, the chittering of strange insects, the mournful cries of alien birds. Where the ground is not swamp or mire, it is covered in a foot-thick layer of dead leaves, fallen branches, and the like; this undergrowth constantly shifts and moves as the things which dwell beneath it seek prey.

The worldhole region, occupying about a one mile radius from the blast point, is different. Here, all is barren; dead, leafless trees form black shapes against an eternally grey sky. Nothing solid seems to live here, but shadowbeasts of all description flit from here to there, winking in and out of reality. Dire cold is constant, and fires flicker and die unless they are magically sustained.

There are no normal communities or holdfasts in the Blighted Woods. Nor do any normal, mortal, creatures live there for long, unless they are very powerful and very strange. One local power is Nergiaphen Of The Black Scar, a being rumored to be a druidic lich, who has taken over a twisted grove near to the worldhole and is practicing bleak arts. A few creatures who were dwelling in the woods when the blast struck have been transformed; a gang of bandits known as Martin's Marauders has been transformed into dread shadows, and they are known to ride and raid on moonless nights.

The place is also home to a Chancery of the Seelie Court, one of the largest on the Shattered Coast.

Many of the shadow beasts created in the Blighted Woods have roamed outwards, becoming a persistent threat to travelers and outlying farms.