A greater malformed homunculus is a tortured creature, controlled by an overpowering conviction that they are incomplete. They wander the world, seeking new body parts to add to themselves.
What it wants: New body parts. They will take anything new, cutting it from its former owner as best they can (with whatever claws, pincers, or fangs they have already acquired) and attaching it to themselves. Attachment is simple, as their blood has a mysterious way of melding flesh. The homunculus needs only to slice itself open and jam the new part into the wound, and the blood will rapidly clot and bind. When the wound heals, the new organ will be perfectly integrated into the homunculus.
What it needs: Food. Greater homunculi have prodigious appetites that only grow stronger as they add to themselves. Their mismatched bodies have strange nutritional needs, needs that can change seemingly at random as their metabolisms shift.
Morale: Cautious. They will only fight if they believe they can win, and will not hesitate to flee if they begin to lose. They do not feel pain, but sense damage and seek to avoid it.
What happens if you eat it: Greater malformed homunculi are made entirely out of flesh, and so are as edible as any animal. What animal any given part was originally part of can be impossible to determine, however, making for a challenge for chefs, a delight for the culinarily adventurous, and a toxic surprise for the unlucky.
What can be crafted out of it: Greater homunculi blood is the basis of many powerful medicines. Note that in its raw form it is highly dangerous, able to fuse flesh to flesh even in small amounts. Many foolhardy adventuring parties have had to be surgically separated after being inadvertently conjoined by blood.
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fantasy. Show all posts
Thursday, June 16, 2022
Monday, July 5, 2021
People of the Solar System
In Sol it is whorls of nuclear energy that became people. They are called angels, for their perfect society long ago solved all problems of morality. They do not interact with the rest of the system, but occasionally exile the imperfect, sending them burning through the ether to land on some planet or asteroid or moon and become djinn.
On Mercury it is rocks that became people. They are slow, methodical beings who spend their time in contemplation, for they do not die and require nothing to live. Their powers of introspection and self-control are second-to-none but convincing them to accept you as a student will require incredible patience.
On Venus it is plants that became people. Stately and always flowering, they prize the colors of their leaves and petals. Their movements are slow, deliberate, and carefully practiced so that they are always in an elegant pose. Their understanding of beauty and grace is perfect, but they will not allow you in their society if you will ugly it.
On Mars it is lizards that became people. They spend 4/5 of their lives asleep, and the remainder in frantic action, performing maintenance on the automated machines that run their society. Martian machines are valuable trade goods and trade ships carrying them will be welcomed throughout the system.
On Ceres it is fish that became people. They evolved under the ice, in total darkness, but they and their cousin animals are bioluminescent. They build aquariums out of asteroids and travel the system in glass spheres. They do not like to show themselves, but display alluring lightshows, for which they are nicknamed sirens.
Around Saturn it is birds that became people. They fly between Saturn’s many moons on mirror wings, snatching up shards of ice and bringing shiny rocks to their nests. Their culture is centered on vendettas; each bird can recite a list of who has wronged them and how.
Around Jupiter it is insects that became people. They fly between Jupiter’s many moons on transparent wings, devouring each other and anything that enters Jovian orbit. Their society is without morality, as they are unable to feel any sort of pain.
On Uranus it is coral reefs that became people. Their bodies sprawl across the shallow zones, feeding on radioactive plankton and thinking vast, slow thoughts. It is assumed that their philosophies are filled with unique insights, but their language has never been translated.
On Neptune it is the ocean that became a person. The water ammonia mix of its seas carve channels in the ice, inscribing perfect memories and flowing in patterns of perfect thought. Neptune wants nothing more than to bring itself closer to the sun and awaken the other planets.
Sunday, June 27, 2021
Hollow Men
Hollow men are all skin and bones. They have no eyes, only empty holes in their skull to match their mouths, noses, and ears. Their skin has become a hard shell. Wounds become new holes, and do not impede the hollow unless a part is severed.
Where it comes from: Any who dies by starvation and is left unburied or unburned will become hollow.
What it wants and will fight for: Hollow men want meat. They will tirelessly hunt down living creatures, then pull them apart and stuff their meat into themselves. They will ignore living creatures to try to get dead meat, which has led to the common tactic of luring them into groups with animal carcasses and setting them aflame.
What happens if you eat it: Hollow men are tents of dried skin and bone filled with rotting meat. You will get sick.
Where it comes from: Any who dies by starvation and is left unburied or unburned will become hollow.
What it wants and will fight for: Hollow men want meat. They will tirelessly hunt down living creatures, then pull them apart and stuff their meat into themselves. They will ignore living creatures to try to get dead meat, which has led to the common tactic of luring them into groups with animal carcasses and setting them aflame.
What happens if you eat it: Hollow men are tents of dried skin and bone filled with rotting meat. You will get sick.
Wednesday, September 9, 2020
The Book of Flies
The book is black, an inch thick. On its cover is a gold-leaf design of seven circles, arranged in a hexagon. Inside each circle is the image of a fly. There is no title.
Every page inside is blank. If, however, you write a name into the book, you will find that one of the flies is missing from the cover. Open it again, and you'll see a table of contents, with the name you wrote as the first entry.
Turn to the corresponding page and you'll see that name as the chapter title. Wait, and eventually you will see a description being written, of the activities of the named person, written as if from the perspective of a small, flying observer.
These descriptions are thorough, containing descriptions of all activities, transcriptions of conversations, and copies of anything the target reads.
Seven names can be written in the book.
Saturday, February 29, 2020
The Kingdom of Fireflies
The king of the Kingdom of Fireflies is a sickly man. He has never seen the sun and it has harmed his health more than any of his subjects. It is all he can do to reach his throne room, and he must survey his kingdom from his castle windows.
The kingdom is small, built into the sides of the cavern containing the underground lake Bluelight. Everyone lives in carved out spaces in the walls, lit by glowing blue-green lichen. Some are alcoves with patches of dried lichen too sleep on. Some are as fine as a palace on the surface, or so their owners boast, despite no one having seen the surface in living memory.
Open spaces, side passages and islands in the lake, are reserved for agriculture. The people of the Kingdom of Fireflies grow grubs, planting them upright in the gravel with only their shiny black heads showing. The grubs are fed all manner of organic waste, slowly but surely growing fat. A farmer must judge, without digging up the grub, how close it is to pupating and maturing into an firefly. The closer to pupation, the fatter the grub, but the fireflies are inedible. A portion of each crop is allowed to mature, the fireflies swarming above the fields pulsing frantic mating signals, and under this light the people hold their harvest festivals, gorging themselves on grubs until the fireflies fall, then splitting them open and collecting their eggs for the next planting. The king looks for clusters of wandering lights, so that he can know his people will be fed.
Mermen live in lake Bluelight. They are not like the mermaids of the surface the King has read about. Cave mermen are pale, with semi-translucent skin that has a shiny, slimy look. They no longer have eyes, although they still have eye sockets. Instead of legs they have tails like eels, long and sinewy. They trade silverfish scales and steelcrab shells for tools, which they struggle tomake themselves. The king sees them sometimes, from his bedroom window, silhoutted by glowing algae.
The king's castle is carved out of a rocky promentory jutting out above the lake. It was created to closly imitate the childhood home of his grandfather, who grew up in a castle on the surface. It contains many artifacts of the surface, although few of them have escaped rust or rot. Visitors marvel at the workings of metal their ancestors had wrought. They themselves only know how to craft leather, chitin, stone, and bone.
Someday they will reclaim the surface from the evil that banished them, but the king knows he will not live to see that day.
The kingdom is small, built into the sides of the cavern containing the underground lake Bluelight. Everyone lives in carved out spaces in the walls, lit by glowing blue-green lichen. Some are alcoves with patches of dried lichen too sleep on. Some are as fine as a palace on the surface, or so their owners boast, despite no one having seen the surface in living memory.
Open spaces, side passages and islands in the lake, are reserved for agriculture. The people of the Kingdom of Fireflies grow grubs, planting them upright in the gravel with only their shiny black heads showing. The grubs are fed all manner of organic waste, slowly but surely growing fat. A farmer must judge, without digging up the grub, how close it is to pupating and maturing into an firefly. The closer to pupation, the fatter the grub, but the fireflies are inedible. A portion of each crop is allowed to mature, the fireflies swarming above the fields pulsing frantic mating signals, and under this light the people hold their harvest festivals, gorging themselves on grubs until the fireflies fall, then splitting them open and collecting their eggs for the next planting. The king looks for clusters of wandering lights, so that he can know his people will be fed.
Mermen live in lake Bluelight. They are not like the mermaids of the surface the King has read about. Cave mermen are pale, with semi-translucent skin that has a shiny, slimy look. They no longer have eyes, although they still have eye sockets. Instead of legs they have tails like eels, long and sinewy. They trade silverfish scales and steelcrab shells for tools, which they struggle tomake themselves. The king sees them sometimes, from his bedroom window, silhoutted by glowing algae.
The king's castle is carved out of a rocky promentory jutting out above the lake. It was created to closly imitate the childhood home of his grandfather, who grew up in a castle on the surface. It contains many artifacts of the surface, although few of them have escaped rust or rot. Visitors marvel at the workings of metal their ancestors had wrought. They themselves only know how to craft leather, chitin, stone, and bone.
Someday they will reclaim the surface from the evil that banished them, but the king knows he will not live to see that day.
Wednesday, November 13, 2019
Dread Hive
Bee queens may be sentient. This is demonstrated by the use of necromancy by some honeybee queens. Some maintain that the necromancy exhibited
by some bee queens is merely a natural magical ability, and does not
necessarily prove sentience. But most naturalists believe that the queens are sentient, and like all sentient life, can investigate things men (and bees) were not meant to know.
In a dread hive, all but the queen are undead. The queen no longer lays eggs, but dances rituals to raise the exoskeletons of dead insects. Her tireless workers haul in spell reagents and exoskeletons, and arrange themselves in complex patterns to amplify, always fueling the continuous expansion of the hive rituals.
Dread hives differ from living ones in one obvious way: they are too large. The workers collect natural spell reagents, which they purify into dread honey, a powerful spell reagent. The interior of the hive is laid out with geometric precision, in accordance with geomantic and numerological principles.
Where it comes from: Like all sentient beings, honeybee queens occasionally delve into forbbiden knowledge.
What it wants and needs: Dead insects. Their exoskeletons will be raised and join to the colony. The queen wears parts of insects as her armor, and can control them. Her colony incorporates the risen corpses of other insects; while most are still worker bees, everything from wasps to centipedes can be expected.
What it will fight for: They will fight other insects to kill them and incorporate their bodies. Otherwise, they fight only defensively.
What happens if you eat it: Dread honey is made from purified natural reagents. Eating it can awaken magical potential, cause prophetic dreams, or make for a bizarre death.
What can be crafted out it: Dread honey can be substituted for many other spell reagents, making it a very valuable substance. Candles made from dread wax reveal the presence of ghosts.
In a dread hive, all but the queen are undead. The queen no longer lays eggs, but dances rituals to raise the exoskeletons of dead insects. Her tireless workers haul in spell reagents and exoskeletons, and arrange themselves in complex patterns to amplify, always fueling the continuous expansion of the hive rituals.
Dread hives differ from living ones in one obvious way: they are too large. The workers collect natural spell reagents, which they purify into dread honey, a powerful spell reagent. The interior of the hive is laid out with geometric precision, in accordance with geomantic and numerological principles.
Where it comes from: Like all sentient beings, honeybee queens occasionally delve into forbbiden knowledge.
What it wants and needs: Dead insects. Their exoskeletons will be raised and join to the colony. The queen wears parts of insects as her armor, and can control them. Her colony incorporates the risen corpses of other insects; while most are still worker bees, everything from wasps to centipedes can be expected.
What it will fight for: They will fight other insects to kill them and incorporate their bodies. Otherwise, they fight only defensively.
What happens if you eat it: Dread honey is made from purified natural reagents. Eating it can awaken magical potential, cause prophetic dreams, or make for a bizarre death.
What can be crafted out it: Dread honey can be substituted for many other spell reagents, making it a very valuable substance. Candles made from dread wax reveal the presence of ghosts.
Tuesday, October 29, 2019
Armor with a life of its own
A necromancer hired a bodyguard, a giant of a man who boasted of his skill in combat. The bodyguard died at the first sign of trouble, an arrow to the throat. Chiding himself for trusting the foolish living, the necromancer turned to the steadfast undead. With one spell, the bodyguard's body was skeletonized. With another, the bones rearranged themselves, becoming a suit of armor with an extra pair of bony arms extending from the shoulders. The bodyguard's arms are far more effective in death than they were in life, holding shields in the necromancer's defense, leaving his hands free for spell casting.
An elf wanted to protect his woodland home. He begged a dryad for strength, so she cut open his chest and planted an acorn beside his heart. The acorn took root and began to grow into a might oak, reinforcing him like a tree strengthens a stone wall. He patrols the borders of the woods, walking more slowly each season. One day he will join the trees he has protected.
The ogre was going to eat the gnome, but the gnome kept explaining how he should be cooked until the ogre found himself with the gnome on his shoulder, being directed to find herbs in the forest. He grew used to the situation quickly, and before long the gnome was dictating all aspects of his life from a seat on his shoulder.
Even dragons grow old. When its scales began crack and fall of, one dragon began to replace them with the shields of those that had tried to slay it. The colors of heraldry are a riot across his body. When he next went ravaging across the countryside the survivors told only of an army that ate towns.
An elf wanted to protect his woodland home. He begged a dryad for strength, so she cut open his chest and planted an acorn beside his heart. The acorn took root and began to grow into a might oak, reinforcing him like a tree strengthens a stone wall. He patrols the borders of the woods, walking more slowly each season. One day he will join the trees he has protected.
The ogre was going to eat the gnome, but the gnome kept explaining how he should be cooked until the ogre found himself with the gnome on his shoulder, being directed to find herbs in the forest. He grew used to the situation quickly, and before long the gnome was dictating all aspects of his life from a seat on his shoulder.
Even dragons grow old. When its scales began crack and fall of, one dragon began to replace them with the shields of those that had tried to slay it. The colors of heraldry are a riot across his body. When he next went ravaging across the countryside the survivors told only of an army that ate towns.
Saturday, July 13, 2019
The Swarm the Countess
The countess was a clever girl,
she wrote a grammarie of bees,
stole family jewels from an old earl,
a tuneless hum is on the breeze.
She grows her children in the wall,
they stare and glare and grow so tall,
her husband's useless as her thrall,
he sells strange honey at a stall,
his knight's their vows they don't recall,
they fight with splinters one and all.
Now she her thoughts are many thoughts,
her people work for her all day,
they choose who dies by drawing lots,
but from their labor they can't stray.
she wrote a grammarie of bees,
stole family jewels from an old earl,
a tuneless hum is on the breeze.
She grows her children in the wall,
they stare and glare and grow so tall,
her husband's useless as her thrall,
he sells strange honey at a stall,
his knight's their vows they don't recall,
they fight with splinters one and all.
Now she her thoughts are many thoughts,
her people work for her all day,
they choose who dies by drawing lots,
but from their labor they can't stray.
Saturday, June 8, 2019
The Town of Blue in the Desert
This town was built around a prosperous market on a busy trade route, but the sand has swallowed the roads and most of the town too. The houses are half filled with drifts of orange sand, preserving carved wood furniture and brightly colored frescoes. Bright blue lizards sun themselves on cracked rooftops during the day, then fill houses with warm sand to sleep in at night.
The lizards are very intelligent, but reluctant to speak to visitors. They can be tempted into conversation with gifts of rare meats and liqueurs, and when drunk will wax philosophical about the cycles of life and history. They keep many secrets, buried in the sand, and cannot be persuaded to part with them, but their eyesight is poor and their hearing worse. If you can present them from smelling you, records of ancient empires, strange and beautiful artwork, and books with no other copies might be dug free.
The lizards are very intelligent, but reluctant to speak to visitors. They can be tempted into conversation with gifts of rare meats and liqueurs, and when drunk will wax philosophical about the cycles of life and history. They keep many secrets, buried in the sand, and cannot be persuaded to part with them, but their eyesight is poor and their hearing worse. If you can present them from smelling you, records of ancient empires, strange and beautiful artwork, and books with no other copies might be dug free.
Friday, June 7, 2019
Psionic Lich
A being with incredible willpower, perfect focus, and endless patience, can make their way through the ordeals necessary to become a psionic lich. The only way to kill one is by destroying its mummified corpse, without which its mind will dissipate in the astral.
What it wants: Inscrutable. Many liches act in ways that seem random: observing unimportant doings, making seemingly inconsequential adjustments to the world, or simply wandering, gazing implacably at whatever they encounter. Others pursue obsessive tasks, building labyrinths, shifting rivers, experimenting with animals. A few have understandable goals, such as protecting nations or eradicating certain monsters.
What it needs: Nothing.
Where it comes from: Potential psychics must practice meditation. If they have the talent, diligence can uncover it. Once their talent emerges, they must continue their meditation to refine their power. To become a lich, they must gain perfect self-knowledge. When they believe they have have succeeded, they must prepare their body. They will drink nothing but a special tea, containing toxins that polymerize the body, shutting down a preserving organs one by one. When this process is complete they will be paralyzed, and must be sealed in clay and buried in an unmarked hole. If their self-knowledge is truly perfect, their psychic power will allow them to survive the death of their body. They will be trapped in their mummy, but their mind will persist. After centuries of constant meditation, they will learn to create an avatar of pure willpower, with which they can interact with the world.
What it will fight for: The avatar of a psionic lich will engage in combat only if it doing so is interesting to it. Otherwise, they will leave. The exception is if its body is threatened, in which case the lich will not retreat and continually escalate the fight, tearing apart the area with psionic force.
What happens if you eat it: The flesh was toxic when buried and its time beneath the earth has not improved it. Also, this would be cannibalism.
What can be crafted out of it: Mummy leather blocks psychic influence, making it useful for shields, armor, and wallpaper. The dirt surrounding the mummy is often suffused with psionic energy and is prized by psions as a stimulant.
What it wants: Inscrutable. Many liches act in ways that seem random: observing unimportant doings, making seemingly inconsequential adjustments to the world, or simply wandering, gazing implacably at whatever they encounter. Others pursue obsessive tasks, building labyrinths, shifting rivers, experimenting with animals. A few have understandable goals, such as protecting nations or eradicating certain monsters.
What it needs: Nothing.
Where it comes from: Potential psychics must practice meditation. If they have the talent, diligence can uncover it. Once their talent emerges, they must continue their meditation to refine their power. To become a lich, they must gain perfect self-knowledge. When they believe they have have succeeded, they must prepare their body. They will drink nothing but a special tea, containing toxins that polymerize the body, shutting down a preserving organs one by one. When this process is complete they will be paralyzed, and must be sealed in clay and buried in an unmarked hole. If their self-knowledge is truly perfect, their psychic power will allow them to survive the death of their body. They will be trapped in their mummy, but their mind will persist. After centuries of constant meditation, they will learn to create an avatar of pure willpower, with which they can interact with the world.
What it will fight for: The avatar of a psionic lich will engage in combat only if it doing so is interesting to it. Otherwise, they will leave. The exception is if its body is threatened, in which case the lich will not retreat and continually escalate the fight, tearing apart the area with psionic force.
What happens if you eat it: The flesh was toxic when buried and its time beneath the earth has not improved it. Also, this would be cannibalism.
What can be crafted out of it: Mummy leather blocks psychic influence, making it useful for shields, armor, and wallpaper. The dirt surrounding the mummy is often suffused with psionic energy and is prized by psions as a stimulant.
Friday, May 24, 2019
Hamun-ran
South of the mountains streches a great salt desert, white dunes as far as the eye can see and a wind that stings the eyes. It is not hot, but rain never falls, and the air is drier than anywhere else in the world. There are no rivers, but there are oases, where water bubbles to the surface. The greatest of these springs is surrounded by the palace of the god-king Hamun, which is surrounded by the city of Hamun-ran, "Hamun's Household," built entirely out of salt.
Hamun has absolute control over the spring. Not a sip is drunk in the city without his blessing. It is his terrace-tower gardens that supply all food. It is his masked and voiceless guard who keep the peace, it is they who prevent any from leaving the city.
Hamun's wife, the Queen of Birds, keeps watch over the people through the eyes of vultures. She alone lives in a building not made of salt, but a gilded stone tower whose shine becomes painful to look at when the sun has risen. No one has seen the Queen of Birds, and it is rumored that there have been many Queens, discarded and replaced at Hamun's whim.
Hamun has absolute control over the spring. Not a sip is drunk in the city without his blessing. It is his terrace-tower gardens that supply all food. It is his masked and voiceless guard who keep the peace, it is they who prevent any from leaving the city.
Hamun's wife, the Queen of Birds, keeps watch over the people through the eyes of vultures. She alone lives in a building not made of salt, but a gilded stone tower whose shine becomes painful to look at when the sun has risen. No one has seen the Queen of Birds, and it is rumored that there have been many Queens, discarded and replaced at Hamun's whim.
Tuesday, May 7, 2019
Making Use of an Empty Thing
At the north side of the steppe, where the great grey mountains that birth the ten rivers rise out of the grass, there is an ancient, isolated nation where they practice an ancient and terrible tradition called Making Use of an Empty Thing. They do not believe, or do not care, about the warnings and proscriptions applied by all civilized nations to necromancy. They had convinced themselves that as long as necromancy was practiced on beasts, and not on people, they were not doomed. As a servant of the Saint, it was Allix's duty to save them from themselves.
Allix had seen a military parade where the necromancers displayed their masterworks. Steppe crabs, killed with poison and then animated, riveted with steel plates and painted yellow-gold for the parade. They carried howdahs of black lacquered wood with tall banners and seats for two crab-knights, one armed with a pike, one with a long-barreled musket, and both in black chitin lamellar.
Allix had fled the parade as fast as he could without attracting attention, and returned to the boarding house where he was staying, hurrying to his room and latching the door behind him. He felt for the burlap bundle beneath his bed and pulled it out, unwrapping it to check the contents. The larvae had almost finished off the pig carcass they had been living in, but it was no matter. Soon they would mature, and then the parasitic wasps they grew into would seek dead flesh, eating and growing and multiplying until no dead thing could last and every undead beast were devoured from the inside.
Allix had seen a military parade where the necromancers displayed their masterworks. Steppe crabs, killed with poison and then animated, riveted with steel plates and painted yellow-gold for the parade. They carried howdahs of black lacquered wood with tall banners and seats for two crab-knights, one armed with a pike, one with a long-barreled musket, and both in black chitin lamellar.
Allix had fled the parade as fast as he could without attracting attention, and returned to the boarding house where he was staying, hurrying to his room and latching the door behind him. He felt for the burlap bundle beneath his bed and pulled it out, unwrapping it to check the contents. The larvae had almost finished off the pig carcass they had been living in, but it was no matter. Soon they would mature, and then the parasitic wasps they grew into would seek dead flesh, eating and growing and multiplying until no dead thing could last and every undead beast were devoured from the inside.
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
Skeletons
In the north, labor is the duty of the dead. Brightly painted skeletons farm, herd, build, and haul. The living are free to raid their neighbors.
In the south, combat is the duty of the dead. Skeletons, intricately carved with their deeds in life, defend against attack. They have perfect discipline, perfect morale, and perfect technique.
In the south, combat is the duty of the dead. Skeletons, intricately carved with their deeds in life, defend against attack. They have perfect discipline, perfect morale, and perfect technique.
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
Crafting Magic
It was past noon when Alexander arrived at the farm, a small cottage with a larger barn. The farmer was an old man, wrinkled but wiry. Alexander's appearance did not make the old man reconsider for more than a moment.
"I assume yer here fer the rats? I'll show ya," he said, and began walking towards the barn.
"Large as cats, some of 'em, and not as afraid a me as they ought to be. I cooked up some poison but they ignored it. I need em gone before they get ambitions and go after my sheep." We reached the bard and showed me the holes he had discovered. They were uncommonly large.
"Shouldn't be a problem." Alexander said. "I'll weave some weasels out of sunlight. They'll be fierce and fearless and will evict the rats no problem. I'll cut some dogs out of the shadow of the barn, to chase down escapees. Come evening I'll weave an owl out of the wind, to stay with you and kill any survivors."
"How long will this take? And how long will the owl last?"
"It shouldn't take more than an hour. The owl will last one night, but you'll be surprised by how many rats and mice an owl of the wind can kill in just one night."
Told man nodded, and left Alexander to it. It had been some time he had woven creatures. He thought back to his lessons, trying to make butterflies out of candle flames. Ashpool had been the instructor, fond of lectures.
"To create, we combine two things: form and substance. You must have an intimate understanding of both. To know the substance, how tough it is, how brittle it is, how malleable it is, and every other property you can think of. To know form, you must know what the thing you are creating does, what stimuli it respond to, what you need it to do. The deeper your understanding of these things, the longer your creation will be able to last before disintegrating. With time, you will be able to create a sword out of wit, a ship of dreams, or a dog from a fond memory, but for now, concentrate on the flame."
Alexander was startled out of his reverie by a flash of light. The first of the sunlight weasels was finished, a silhouette so bright it looked like an afterimage on his eyes. He got started on the next.
"I assume yer here fer the rats? I'll show ya," he said, and began walking towards the barn.
"Large as cats, some of 'em, and not as afraid a me as they ought to be. I cooked up some poison but they ignored it. I need em gone before they get ambitions and go after my sheep." We reached the bard and showed me the holes he had discovered. They were uncommonly large.
"Shouldn't be a problem." Alexander said. "I'll weave some weasels out of sunlight. They'll be fierce and fearless and will evict the rats no problem. I'll cut some dogs out of the shadow of the barn, to chase down escapees. Come evening I'll weave an owl out of the wind, to stay with you and kill any survivors."
"How long will this take? And how long will the owl last?"
"It shouldn't take more than an hour. The owl will last one night, but you'll be surprised by how many rats and mice an owl of the wind can kill in just one night."
Told man nodded, and left Alexander to it. It had been some time he had woven creatures. He thought back to his lessons, trying to make butterflies out of candle flames. Ashpool had been the instructor, fond of lectures.
"To create, we combine two things: form and substance. You must have an intimate understanding of both. To know the substance, how tough it is, how brittle it is, how malleable it is, and every other property you can think of. To know form, you must know what the thing you are creating does, what stimuli it respond to, what you need it to do. The deeper your understanding of these things, the longer your creation will be able to last before disintegrating. With time, you will be able to create a sword out of wit, a ship of dreams, or a dog from a fond memory, but for now, concentrate on the flame."
Alexander was startled out of his reverie by a flash of light. The first of the sunlight weasels was finished, a silhouette so bright it looked like an afterimage on his eyes. He got started on the next.
Saturday, September 8, 2018
Pale Riders
Out of the pale morning sun, pale men on pale horses with pale hounds. But they are not men; their limbs are too long, their horses have the mouths of tigers, and their hounds move with the grace of cats. Their armor and weapons are made of polished bone, their hair is as white as their skin. They ride and slay until coated with blood, and then ride into the red setting sun.
Thursday, August 30, 2018
Lesser Malformed Homunculus
Fundamentally, a humonculus is a parasite of form. Clay-flesh, the creation of which is beyond the scope of this document, can use a human body as its mold, stealing away shapeliness and poise for its own use.
The creation of a homunculus is a complex undertaking that can go wrong in many different ways. Errors in early stages of development usually force an early "birth", creating a small, weak creature that is of little use. If this happens, you can still recover costs by placing the malformed thing within the skull of a freshly dead body. If all goes well, the homunculus will learn to control the body, and thus still be able to serve.
Wants: Sensation. When malformed lesser homunculi view the world it is as if through smudged glass, when they touch it as if their hands were wrapped in cloth. They pursue pleasurable sensation without care for its nature or cost, seeking more and more intensity. Their incredible hedonism gives them incredible reputations; they can often be tracked down by seeking the sources of the strange rumors that are spread about them.
Needs: To obey their creator. Even malformed homunculi must obey their creator. They will bend meaning and interpret as far as they can, but they must obey the letter of a command. Use them but never trust them.
Morale: Malformed lesser homunculi rarely have a instinct of self-preservation. Their morale depends on their attitude towards pain. Some despise pain so desperately they will surrender upon merely being threatened with it. Others embrace pain as another sensation that can be felt intensely, and will fight until destroyed.
What happens if you eat this monster: The bulk of the body is human, and eating it has all the usual ethical, legal, and occult implications of eating human meat. The homunculus itself, is made of skin surrounding a core of disgustingly soft fatty meat. It is calorie rich, but needs to be cooked carefully to be made palatable.
What can be crafted out of this monster's body: The body of the homunculus is of great value, as it can be made into a clay-like material out of which replacement limbs and organs can be shaped.
The creation of a homunculus is a complex undertaking that can go wrong in many different ways. Errors in early stages of development usually force an early "birth", creating a small, weak creature that is of little use. If this happens, you can still recover costs by placing the malformed thing within the skull of a freshly dead body. If all goes well, the homunculus will learn to control the body, and thus still be able to serve.
Wants: Sensation. When malformed lesser homunculi view the world it is as if through smudged glass, when they touch it as if their hands were wrapped in cloth. They pursue pleasurable sensation without care for its nature or cost, seeking more and more intensity. Their incredible hedonism gives them incredible reputations; they can often be tracked down by seeking the sources of the strange rumors that are spread about them.
Needs: To obey their creator. Even malformed homunculi must obey their creator. They will bend meaning and interpret as far as they can, but they must obey the letter of a command. Use them but never trust them.
Morale: Malformed lesser homunculi rarely have a instinct of self-preservation. Their morale depends on their attitude towards pain. Some despise pain so desperately they will surrender upon merely being threatened with it. Others embrace pain as another sensation that can be felt intensely, and will fight until destroyed.
What happens if you eat this monster: The bulk of the body is human, and eating it has all the usual ethical, legal, and occult implications of eating human meat. The homunculus itself, is made of skin surrounding a core of disgustingly soft fatty meat. It is calorie rich, but needs to be cooked carefully to be made palatable.
What can be crafted out of this monster's body: The body of the homunculus is of great value, as it can be made into a clay-like material out of which replacement limbs and organs can be shaped.
Friday, June 22, 2018
Corpse Colonies
Bone-white ants chew tunnels through the corpse. Workers chew apart nearby leaves and bring them in procession to the empty stomach, where more chew those leaves into mulch for fungi, and more still chew that fungi into layers of pale-grey plaster that smother rot. In the smallest chamber of what used to be a heart, a pale queen lays row after row of glistening eggs. The colony is expanding, slowly and surely.
Soon the colony will reach maturity, and the corpse will rise.
Wants: To reproduce. Corpse-colonies wander aimlessly, searching for corpses, or living things they can turn into corpses. They will try to kill anything they come across to make new homes fit for juvenile queens.
Needs: To eat. A constant supply of fungal plaster is required to prevent the corpse-colony from rotting, and a constant supply of vegetable matter is require to grow the fungus. A colony can be tracked by the trail of mutilated vegetation it leaves behind.
Morale: Corpse-colonies do not give up. If enough damage is done to an inhabited corpse, they will abandon it and the entire colony will swarm, hoping to pull victory from the jaws of defeat by turning their attacker into a new home.
What happens if you eat this monster: Preserved behind layers of fungal plaster, the corpse in which the colony lives dries, but is kept soft by movement. It can be eaten like jerky. The ants themselves are also edible, as are their eggs, although both are quite bitter.
What can be crafted out of this monster's body: The fungal plaster the ants use to prevent their home from rotting is a very effective antiseptic, and serves as the base for many healing unguents.
Soon the colony will reach maturity, and the corpse will rise.
Wants: To reproduce. Corpse-colonies wander aimlessly, searching for corpses, or living things they can turn into corpses. They will try to kill anything they come across to make new homes fit for juvenile queens.
Needs: To eat. A constant supply of fungal plaster is required to prevent the corpse-colony from rotting, and a constant supply of vegetable matter is require to grow the fungus. A colony can be tracked by the trail of mutilated vegetation it leaves behind.
Morale: Corpse-colonies do not give up. If enough damage is done to an inhabited corpse, they will abandon it and the entire colony will swarm, hoping to pull victory from the jaws of defeat by turning their attacker into a new home.
What happens if you eat this monster: Preserved behind layers of fungal plaster, the corpse in which the colony lives dries, but is kept soft by movement. It can be eaten like jerky. The ants themselves are also edible, as are their eggs, although both are quite bitter.
What can be crafted out of this monster's body: The fungal plaster the ants use to prevent their home from rotting is a very effective antiseptic, and serves as the base for many healing unguents.
Monday, March 26, 2018
Pheonix Fire
The flame of a pheonix burns things back together. It burns things into health. It burns wood into trees, sickness into health, and metal into magic. If you light a funeral pyre with a pheonix's flame, it will even burn death into life.
This story is from the ancient days. Before all things had been created, before all things had taken their places, before the people built cities and organized their affairs. Across the land there was only death and those that feed on death. The people huddled under unrotting logs, fought with jackals for scraps of unrotting carcasses, and those that spent the night away from the warmth and light of a bonfire were never seen again.
One youth declared that the world could be better, and so he would make it better. The people had heard talk like this before, and knew that it always ended grand promises and a brave soul wandering away from the fire, never to be seen again. So they discouraged him, telling him about all the others who had failed, and when they saw he was determined to go, they wished him well, although in their hearts they knew they would never see him again.
The youth wandered the lands for an uncounted period of time, stealing meat from jackals and sleeping in what shelter he could find. He found only mud, carcasses, and maggots. Nothing that could make a change or give him hope.
Eventually he resolved to climb to the peak of a mountain and see what he could see. Clambering upwards, he began to hear the sound of laughter. When he reached the top, he saw a great bird made of blue flame, laughing at the state of the world from above. The youth picked up a branch and held it aloft, lighting it from the bird's belly as it passed. He then began to descend from the mountain, to bring back to the people this new thing he had found.
As he descended, he noticed that the branch was becoming heavier. When he looked at it, he was astonished. Out of the bottom of the branch were growing pale white roots, seeking the earth. Out of the top of the branch were growing bright green branches, seeking the sun. The branch burned, but as it burned it grew.
The branch grew so heavy that he could not carry it. He planted it in the mud, where it grew faster and faster. The fire spread from the growing tree to the branches, logs, and stumps that littered the earth. As it burned them, they sprouted green branches of their own. The fire spread from wood to flesh, burning the carcasses that had lain in the mud for longer than memory, and as they burned they began to stand and run. The fire grew into a wildfire that covered all land, and it burned all day and night.
Next morning, the sun rose over a grand forest, through which wandered now-living wildlife. It was the most beautiful thing the youth had ever seen, but as he stared he realized he could no longer spot see any of the landmarks he knew. He was never able to find his way back to his people.
This story is from the ancient days. Before all things had been created, before all things had taken their places, before the people built cities and organized their affairs. Across the land there was only death and those that feed on death. The people huddled under unrotting logs, fought with jackals for scraps of unrotting carcasses, and those that spent the night away from the warmth and light of a bonfire were never seen again.
One youth declared that the world could be better, and so he would make it better. The people had heard talk like this before, and knew that it always ended grand promises and a brave soul wandering away from the fire, never to be seen again. So they discouraged him, telling him about all the others who had failed, and when they saw he was determined to go, they wished him well, although in their hearts they knew they would never see him again.
The youth wandered the lands for an uncounted period of time, stealing meat from jackals and sleeping in what shelter he could find. He found only mud, carcasses, and maggots. Nothing that could make a change or give him hope.
Eventually he resolved to climb to the peak of a mountain and see what he could see. Clambering upwards, he began to hear the sound of laughter. When he reached the top, he saw a great bird made of blue flame, laughing at the state of the world from above. The youth picked up a branch and held it aloft, lighting it from the bird's belly as it passed. He then began to descend from the mountain, to bring back to the people this new thing he had found.
As he descended, he noticed that the branch was becoming heavier. When he looked at it, he was astonished. Out of the bottom of the branch were growing pale white roots, seeking the earth. Out of the top of the branch were growing bright green branches, seeking the sun. The branch burned, but as it burned it grew.
The branch grew so heavy that he could not carry it. He planted it in the mud, where it grew faster and faster. The fire spread from the growing tree to the branches, logs, and stumps that littered the earth. As it burned them, they sprouted green branches of their own. The fire spread from wood to flesh, burning the carcasses that had lain in the mud for longer than memory, and as they burned they began to stand and run. The fire grew into a wildfire that covered all land, and it burned all day and night.
Next morning, the sun rose over a grand forest, through which wandered now-living wildlife. It was the most beautiful thing the youth had ever seen, but as he stared he realized he could no longer spot see any of the landmarks he knew. He was never able to find his way back to his people.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
Ooze Cyborgs
Ooze slime is a translucent yellow-green substance with the consistency of honey. It is a complex material, capable of regulating virtually any organic chemical reaction, as well as acting like a muscle. When young, oozes are simple scavengers, slowly squirming their way through tunnels and caves, eating whatever they find.
As they grow, they get smarter. Sooner or later, a young ooze's dreamlike sentience will direct their body to preserve, rather than dissolve, useful organs.
Most common are bones. Incorporating the skeletons of animals it has eaten allows an ooze to sustain a discrete shape, with useful features like limbs. Ooze skeletons are always unique, created by mixing and matching bones from many creatures. If an ooze is lucky enough to find a set of plate armor, it will wear it like an exoskeleton.
Oozes are also fond of glands. The powerful stomach of an owlbear might be re-purposed as an acid spray, the venomous sting of a wyvern might be implanted at the end of an "arm", and the flame glands of dragon hatchlings have obvious uses.
Oozes are translucent enough that incorporated organs can be seen from the outside. Those familiar with oozes, and with the interiors of local monsters can guess at the capabilities of a mature ooze.
As they grow, they get smarter. Sooner or later, a young ooze's dreamlike sentience will direct their body to preserve, rather than dissolve, useful organs.
Most common are bones. Incorporating the skeletons of animals it has eaten allows an ooze to sustain a discrete shape, with useful features like limbs. Ooze skeletons are always unique, created by mixing and matching bones from many creatures. If an ooze is lucky enough to find a set of plate armor, it will wear it like an exoskeleton.
Oozes are also fond of glands. The powerful stomach of an owlbear might be re-purposed as an acid spray, the venomous sting of a wyvern might be implanted at the end of an "arm", and the flame glands of dragon hatchlings have obvious uses.
Oozes are translucent enough that incorporated organs can be seen from the outside. Those familiar with oozes, and with the interiors of local monsters can guess at the capabilities of a mature ooze.
Friday, March 9, 2018
12 Rewards for Quests that are not Gold
1. The local priest will say prayers in your name.
2. A puppy, ready to be trained.
3. Your name will be entered into the annals of the city as a hero.
4. Past crimes will be forgiven.
5. A local hedge wizard will cast a spell of good luck on you.
6. Access to the Lord's library.
7. A mule, old but healthy.
8. A portrait by a visiting artist.
9. A reserved seat at the local pub.
10. A letter of introduction to the local Lord.
11. A charm that will ward off illness.
12. The whole community made donations, and the reward is a dozen eggs, 2 chickens, half of a bushel of barley, a basket of apples, a newly forged knife, a keg of ale, and a fine new hat.
2. A puppy, ready to be trained.
3. Your name will be entered into the annals of the city as a hero.
4. Past crimes will be forgiven.
5. A local hedge wizard will cast a spell of good luck on you.
6. Access to the Lord's library.
7. A mule, old but healthy.
8. A portrait by a visiting artist.
9. A reserved seat at the local pub.
10. A letter of introduction to the local Lord.
11. A charm that will ward off illness.
12. The whole community made donations, and the reward is a dozen eggs, 2 chickens, half of a bushel of barley, a basket of apples, a newly forged knife, a keg of ale, and a fine new hat.
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