K.I.O.S. - Knights In Orcus' Service

So... I read the Metamorphica Revised. I bought Realm of Chaos: Slaves to Darkness on eBay. I dug into the classic Chaos Patrons Revisited. I love Noisms' idea and it's an inspiration for this post but it doesn't exactly suit my setting, which has exactly seven demon lords. I thought I would have more fun if I wrote up a unique table for each demonic patron! So here is my take on the Gifts of Orcus, done in the classic style of Realm of Chaos: Slaves to Darkness.


Chaos Patron: Orcus

[Stats are for both stupid systems since I run E6 Mathgrinder and Labyrinth Lord]

Like all Demon Lords, Orcus grants gifts to his devout clergy and lay servants alike. When a cultist gains a level they must roll on the Gifts of Orcus table below, according to this scheme:

-Single-classed clerics roll every level starting with 2nd.
-Non-cleric cultists roll on every even-numbered level.

Those who convert to Orcus late in life (after 1st level) must immediately make all the rolls they're entitled to while being inducted through a terribly painful ritual of some kind (sleeping amongst corpses for 6 days and nights, ritual flayings, etc). This changes the character's alignment to chaotic if it wasn't already. Under some circumstances a character may be able to avoid death by signing on with Orcus (just like in Chaos Patrons Revised), but this would require a save to avoid undeath as in result 97-99, and maybe some bonus rolls on the table just to teach them a lesson.

Advancing the cause of the demon lord can affect the gifts he grants. The DM will adjudicate a modifier ranging from -15% (extremely happy, you've advanced the cause of Orcus) to +15% (extremely disappointed, report for torture immediately). Orcus dislikes when undead are harmed but violence among his living cultists is fine, provided his long-term plans aren't ruined. Only the strong are deserving of his gifts.

Goblinoid Games

GIFTS OF ORCUS: d100

1-4 Infernal Assistance - Granted a demonic minion of HD equal to your level. It serves faithfully until destroyed, but may have its own agenda or tasks to fulfill.

6-11 Black Crushing Sorcery - Learn a random necromantic spell from the cleric or M-U list. If normally incapable of casting it due to class or level, the cultist can use it once per day as a spell-like ability. Roll d100 for spell level, with the same modifier used on the main Gifts table: 01-10 4th level, 11-30 3rd level, 31-60 2nd level, 61-00 1st level.

12-17 Grave Goods - Orcus grants the cultist a useful item from the abyssal treasure-vaults of the restless dead. Its purpose may be obscure, but it will always be something he is able to use. This is an opportunity to give the character a clue like a treasure map, mysterious key, one of those artifacts from Goblin Punch that I like so much or just a good magic item. If you're absolutely out of ideas, maybe use those tables from Realms of Crawling Chaos.

18-22 Familiar - Orcus grants the cultist a familiar. It takes the shape of (1d6) 1-4 a skeletal or zombie animal, 5-6 an imp or quasit.

[PF: standard familiar rules apply / LL: use this]

23-30 Undead Servants - A cadre of lower-level undead appear beside the cultist. Consult the 'Type of Undead' table below and subtract four from the cultist's level to determine kind and number. Mindless undead will obey until destroyed. Those of free will are more like hirelings or henchmen and are reluctant to undertake suicide missions, may have their own goals, etc.

31-35 Chaos Armour - Orcus grants the cultist a suit of bad-ass chaos armour. It will be a random type of metal armour irrespective of character class. If the cultist can't or won't wear it he may pass it on to someone else. I suggest allowing NPC cultists to cast spells in chaos armour without penalty.

Regardless of make & material, the armour gains the following magical bonuses every time this gift is rolled. [PF: +1 to AC, grants DR 5/magic or law / LL: +1 to AC, +1 weapons required to hit]

Make a save when the armour is first worn, or if this gift is rolled again [PF: Will DC 20 / LL: vs spells at -2] or it bonds to the wearer and cannot be removed short of a limited wish or similar magic.

36-41 Demon Weapon - A magic weapon appears at the cultist's feet, of a kind he is able to use. Inside is the bound spirit of a demon of the lower planes. Use the Realm of Chaos daemon weapon rules if you can figure them out, the ones in the Metamorphica, or create an intelligent magic sword as per the DMG. It is always chaotic in alignment and serves Orcus, although may have its own personal goals.

[Tables for creating demon weapons may go here, if I can get around to it]

42-49 Death Mask - The cultist is granted an ornate and valuable ceremonial mask. At 2nd level it is made of a base material like lead, iron or bone. As the cultist gains experience the mask's value climbs commensurately [100 gp per level] and it transmutes to copper, silver, then gold. Rolling this gift again doubles the mask's value and decoration each time: old and powerful cultists have ritual masks carved in wild patterns and studded with precious gems, and these are usually still worn while serving in Orcus' undead legions.

They don't do anything magical. Just hide your deformities, look ballin' and are worth a fair bit of dough when the forces of Law loot your corpse!

50-52 Rictus - The cultist's face melts into the desiccated, eyeless grin of a corpse. [PF: -6 CHA / LL: -3 CHA] All who come within 10' and see his face are struck with supernatural dread. 

[PF: Will DC 12 + (cleric level or 1/2 other class level) or frightened for 1d4 rounds / LL: As the spell Cause Fear]

53-56 Mark of Orcus / Dead Truce - His symbol is seared permanently onto the cultist's face, hands or some other prominent place for all to see. If an undead creature sees the symbol it must succeed on a save in order to attack the cultist, although it is free to attack his companions or take any other action. Free-willed undead are not affected.

[PF: Will DC 10 + (cleric level or 1/2 other class level) + CHA bonus / LL: Roll on the turn undead table as a cleric of your level]

57-62 Lich Touch - The cultist develops an icy-cold aura. His breath fogs even in warm weather and raindrops freeze on his skin. Touch an opponent in melee to deal cold damage.

[PF: 1d8 + 1/2 level / LL: 1d10]

63-66 Face of the Goatlord - The cultist's face deforms to resemble a monstrous, fanged black goat. His voice takes on a hircine quality and he may stutter or bleat from time to time. If he already owns a Mask of Orcus, it will change to fit his new anatomy.

67-79 Marked by the Grave - An aura of undeath surrounds the cultist, so roll on this great table by Necropraxis.

80-83 Mummified - The cultist's skin becomes withered and leathery, and his voice croaks with the dust of the tomb.

[PF: +4 AC, -4 CHA, +50% damage from fire / LL: +2 AC, -2 CHA, +1 damage per die from fire attacks]

84-87 Skeletonized - One random limb shrivels painfully into an appendage of bone. Roll d4: 1 left arm, 2 right arm, 3 left leg, 4 right leg.

A withered arm gives [PF: -4 STR / LL: -2 to hit & dmg] with any task involved. A withered leg reduces your movement speed [PF: -5' per round / LL: From 120' to 90' or from 90' to 60', you get the idea]

88-90 Contagion - The cultist is infected with an incurable disease of some kind: leprosy, the black plague, red ache, the trembles, polio. It is survivable, but not without damaging the cultist's body irreversibly. However, it can now be transmitted by touch:

Roll 1d6, and count down the stats on your character sheet in whatever order they're written. That statistic is reduced by 1d3 points, permanently. The cultist may touch opponents in melee to damage that same characteristic by 1d3 points. Whether the cultist's victims can recover from this disease or the attribute damage is up to your system and your DM. Play hard...

[PF: Fortitude DC 10 + (cleric level or 1/2 other class level) + CON / LL: Save vs. poison]

91-93 Dead Already - The cultist's organs begin to wither as his body prepares itself for unlife. For now he is still alive and needs to eat, sleep & breathe, but is harmed by Cure and healed by Inflict spells just like undead creatures. He cannot recover hit points naturally, is immune to bleeding damage & won't bleed out below 0 HP, is immune to sneak attacks and critical hits.

94-96 Level Drained! - The cultist loses one level and all corresponding abilities, spells, saves, etc. He retains all experience points and can advance to the next level as normal to make up his losses. I like these Necropraxis level-drain rules, they're what I use at home.

97-99 WAKE UP! TIME TO DIE - The judgement of Orcus descends. The cultist must make a saving throw [PF: Fortitude DC 20 / LL: vs. death with a -2 penalty]. If it's failed by a margin greater than [PF: 10 points / LL: 5 points], he is instantly slain! If the save is failed by a smaller margin, Orcus grants his follower hideous unlife. Refer to the 'Type of Undead' table below based on your level.

If the save is passed, Orcus spares your miserable life for now. Take gift 42-49: Death Mask instead.

00 Chaos Attribute - Found unworthy of a divine gift! Roll on a giant mutation table instead. I'll be using the Metamorphica or you can go back to the original Chaos Attributes table, or I have an old compilation of tables here that includes plenty of greats.

* Type of Undead Table *

-2: skeleton (1-6)
-1-0: skeleton (2-8)
1-2: skeleton (2-12)
3-4: zombie (2-12)
5-6: ghoul (2-12)
7-8: wight (2-8)
9-10: mummy or wraith (2-5)
11-12: vampire or spectre (1)
13+: death knight or lich! (1)


*****

Next up for this treatment: Abraxas! In the meantime, here is some goatlord-approved music:

Necropolis

Last year I found a book called Necropolis - London and Its Dead at the used bookstore. It gets me PUMPED! Although I left my Spoils of Annwn game on the back burner, Necropolis gave me some great ideas for the haunted ruins of Londinium. I still haven't finished reading the book and actually can't find it at the moment, but sometimes thinking up new undead monsters is the only thing worth doing...


*****

"Surely you know that just as the momentous events of the past cast their shadows down the ages, so now, when the sun is drawing toward the dark, our own shadows race into the past to trouble mankind's dreams."
-The Sword of the Lictor, Gene Wolfe

Remember that bit in From Hell (the comic, not the movie) when Gull has that vision of the skyscraper? The carnage, death and infernal magic that brought Londinium low twist not just the city's environment but the very force of time itself. For now, it's just an excuse to do things like this:

PLAGUE-DEAD

Bleeding, weeping, covered in sores, their skin turning black, these zombies still think they're alive (they seem so from a distance) and will do anything to avoid "dying" of the disease that still infests them. Dressed in peasant rags from the plague years (perceptive PCs might notice the differences in fashion and realize something's up), clutching rosaries or garlanded with herbs they stumble, crawl and scream for mercy - from you or God, who knows? They aren't actually intelligent, the things they say are like tics with no real meaning. All the while they're trying to hold your hand, get you to pray for them and lick your face.

Stats as zombies but if they touch you, could get the black plague. Save vs. death or you're fucked: lose 1d4 CON/day. Every day you get a new save, and the disease has run its course if you can make 2 saves in a row (if you're a merciful DM). Cure Disease and similar magic will help as normal, but only high-level spells like Restoration will restore lost CON points.





PLAGUE PIT HORDE

To this day there are places under London they can't dig for fear of what will be unearthed. In 1665, the expense of individual burial plots for each dead Londoner was too high. The poor of the city were dumped by the authorities into huge mass graves. Since the city's Bishop wasn't willing to consecrate ground that couldn't be held in perpetuity by the church, these short-term plague pits were left unhallowed. And now the poor dead are restless.

A great mass of human bones, animal skeletons and dirt all mixed together. The horde might be stuck in a wall as if just breached by digging machinery - this makes the immediate area highly dangerous, but much worse is a horde freeing itself to move around, crawling & dragging slowly through the cramped dungeon corridors, hungry to add infected victims to itself.

Stats go like this:

No 1, AL C, Mv 60' (20') or none, AC 13, HD 6, Att 1d6x1d6 + plague, Sv F, ML 12, HC XII + XIII, XP 820

Their touch is infectious exactly as the Plague-Dead above.
Miasma - The entire area around a plague pit horde is infected. Anyone within 30' must save vs. paralyzation every 2nd round (every single round when breathing hard - running, combat, etc) or begin to choke & cough on the noisome air: -2 to attack rolls AC and saves, stealth is impossible. 1d6 rounds after leaving the miasma it wears off, but make a final save with a +2 modifier. If you fail, contract the black plague as above.

These creatures make the tunnels and crypts beneath Londinium extremely hazardous. Many adventurers have returned to civilization laden with Roman coins and grave goods only to perish a few days later, coughing colours. A few enterprising grifters have begun selling miracle-cures for the malady (which they call Orcus' Revenge) outside Verulamium - needless to say their effectiveness is limited.


*****

These Brits need no introduction around here:

The Tomb of Abysthor - pt 2 - The Pit of Bones

Part one here. [Status: not playtested. My group isn't too far off - I hope - but this is as much as I'm posting before player contact.]

I have been picking up more game-able ideas from this book Necropolis - London and its Dead, which I bought last year. Did you know: when they dug up St. Paul's cathedral (after it burned in the great fire I think?), under the contemporary English buried in the floor they found Saxon graves. Beneath those were Roman burial urns. Deeper, maybe 20 feet (I forget) were the shrouded bodies of pre-Roman Britons.

The holy sites have been so for a long time.

*****

The sheer cliff a thousand feet high runs north to south, cutting the world in half. The lands below are covered in clouds. Nobody knows what lives there. The Barrier separates civilization from wilderness, known from unknown, law from chaos, restriction from freedom.

The Empire of man covers the whole world except what's past the Barrier. On the Empire's fringes, in the badlands and desolate places by the cliffs, the wild elves live their lives of barbarism. Endlessly the generations churn onwards, violent and brief.

Each tribe has a god or demon that it follows and claims as its totem. These gods might be idols & statues or invisible sky-lords like those of the civilized folk. One such tribe had a powerful idol - a man with a jaguar's head. They lived right at the edge of the Barrier, the final limit of the Empire. As the city-folk spread ever outwards, the tribe feared one day they would have nowhere to go. With no magic and no great pantheon of civilized gods, all they could do is pray & sacrifice to their jaguar idol.

So they threw their own people over the Barrier, and augured the tribe's future from the screams echoing back up the cliff. (Once they threw over a man who didn't scream - who didn't die - but his story is not yet told).

Always in the same place they conduct their sacrifices. Tradition dictates it but nobody now living understands why this particular spot, and not another. Hundreds of wild elves, half-elves and human captives have gone over the edge but they were not the first dead to rest in that holy place. They won't be the last.

At the bottom of that cliff, at the edge of a misty jungle lies the Tomb of Abysthor.

*PSA: Buy it yourself if you want to see the original, you can get the old one for CHEAP or the new shit HERE*

The Pit of Bones

The jungle around is sickly thin and dying, with no underbrush in the entire hex (~3 mile radius) although the constant mist obscures vision. Nothing grows within 500' of the pit, splinters of bone poke out of the ground everywhere instead of grass. It's impossible to avoid crunching them under your feet.

The pit is a great half-bowl about 150' wide and 40' deep at the centre, focused on the dungeon entrance. The priests of Orcus have been unearthing ancient skeletons for their ever-growing army of the dead. A narrow ramp of earth cuts the pit in half and slopes up to an opening in the cliff face 10' above ground level (50' above the bottom of the pit). This is the entrance to the Tomb.

-At night, make two random encounter rolls. At least one encounter will be a group of Orcus cultists excavating, accompanied by some skeletons. They won't be on guard for trouble unless the PCs are returning to the Tomb after a few delves. During the day, just roll on the undead table below.


Dig Progress [d*]

The cult of Orcus is constantly excavating new recruits. Higher numbers on the table are generally older and buried deeper. The weak corpses on the lower entries normally get chucked into the Font of Bones in L1-6, but they can be fielded in a pinch when the cult is traveling the wilderness (ie. random encounters).

After the PCs' first visit the clock starts. Roll 1d4 to determine the initial undead troops available to the cult. As long as the digging operation persists, increase the die size every week or so (d4, d6, d8, d10, d12, d20). Basically the time it takes the PCs to crawl back to town, heal up and return to the dungeon should bring new challenges.

1-3 - 1d6 Font of Bones skeletons, as normal [2 HD, turn resistance +2].

4 - 1d8 sacrifices made by the wild half-elf tribes above. Bones are shattered after falling 1000 feet. [1 HD skeletons, very fragile, no resistances]

5 - 1d6 neanderthal oldsters of the local tribes who wander here to die when they can't fight or contribute anymore. Recalcitrant and difficult for the cultists to command, their dead dreams are alien to humans. [2 HD skeletons - stone axes 1d6]

6 - 1d6 witches and medicine men of the local neanderthals, died on failed vision-quests or slain by a rival magic-user. [2 HD skeletons - stone daggers 1d4, each can cast a random 1st-level spell]

7 - 1d8 imperial soldiers killed in one of many uprisings at the end of colonial adventures in the area. Speak Skeletongue or Imperial Common, highly disciplined. [Dead Legion: 1 HD skeletons - rusted shortswords 1d6-1, shields and armour 50/50 of chain or breastplates. -2 AC penalty for rusting]

8 - 1d4 imperial missionaries of the 137 gods. Mutilated & tortured terribly for their troubles. They serve Orcus in Hell now. [3 HD huecuvas, rotted robes, tarnished holy symbols]

9 - An animal killed by the neanderthals and buried in the pit as a sacrifice. Hungry! [50/50 - jungle bear or gorilla skeleton]

10 - 1d8 Charau-ka pilgrims thrown into the pit, their souls sent to the underworld as tribute to the demon lords. Happy to work with fellow infernalists! [3 HD ape-men skeletons - thrown rocks 1d4, stone clubs 1d6]

11 - 2d4 warriors of the first "civilized" barbarian kings who ruled the area over a millennium ago. Speak a dialect similar to Old High Imperial. Love a jolly good scrap. [2 HD skeletons with rusting grave goods - hand axe, shield and chain]

12 - 1d12 victims of the Duvan'ku death cult. Not so much "dug up" as unleashed on the world when their bones are disturbed. Can't communicate - souls trapped in a perpetual black void. Come join them! [1 HD lesser shadows - wandering alone, killed the cultists who dug them up]

13 - 1d6 barbarian warlords who died with dishonor and didn't get their own barrow-mounds. Prideful lovers of battle, difficult to control. [4 HD skeletons - rusted greatswords, piecemeal barbarian armour (as splint), great torcs and wristbands of corroded gold]

14 - 3d6 ancient sacrifices. Their bodies long gone, only the severed heads were cast into the pit. Now they fly about in a hungry swarm like airborne pirahnas. [Swarm: HD equal to half no. appearing, anyone inside 10' area takes 1d6/round]

15 - 1d6 Duvan'ku stranglers. The earliest humans who fell to Orcus worship, preying on each other and sacrificing to the Goatlord to escape the iron fist of the High Elves. [4 HD wights, rotted black robes]

16 - 1d6 Chthonic Elf corpse-fathers, awakened from slumber. These semi-mythical patriarchs were the first to devour their own dead millennia ago. Now grown massive and corpulent on carrion, spreading terror - and an unbearable stench - wherever they go. Their progeny will hear of their return eventually and take them to the lost city. [4 HD fat ghasts]

17 - 2d12 servitors of the High Elves. A mass grave of these now-extinct humanoids. Bred to the whip, easily controlled. [Skeletons of (d4) - 1 Pig-men (1 HD), 2 Gnolls (2 HD), 3 Hobgoblins (1 HD), 4 Bugbears (3 HD)]

18 - 1d6 High Elves, freed once more to crush the globe in their mailed fists! These apostates are distant kin to the sin-knights in the lost city. Their long, thin bones radiate Jack Kirby x-ray light through glowing armour. Wouldn't serve a human, least of all grimy cave-dwellers venerating a giant goat! [6 HD skeletons - two-handed swords and plate mail of lambent red which fade away when they're destroyed, each can cast 1 random wizard spell of 1st-3rd level at maximum effect]

19 - Unique Result. Once rolled, cross it off and write your own. Here are two:

(1) Forvalaka. The dread beast arises, bloodthirsty and insane after long ages of sleep. It goes its own way to hunt prey through the jungle as it used to in the ancient days. [A vampire were-jaguar. I'll probably have to use a few templates. In your system, it's a maximum-HD vampire with a tropical theme: transforms into a jaguar instead of a bat, summons local animals (jackals, hyenas) instead of wolves, etc]

(2) Lich. The sorceror-king of an empire lost to time. His reign ended when he was bound and thrown into the pit, but now the cult has dug him up and you're fucked!! Scintillating crystal manacles cause his spells to fail 33% of the time. If the cult can remove them, he is at full power. Defeat him beforehand and recover them intact, they're worth 12,000 gp. [8th level wizard - remember this is E6! - knows spells of a lost age. Dig out that supplement you've been meaning to use, open up a different gamebook, whatever you gotta do]

20 - 1d10 Snake-Men skeletons! So old they're almost fossilized. Woken from their serpentine dreams of sex, death & black sorcery to terrorize the mammalian races again. They'd never serve some idiot humans, but strike out on their own to cause trouble elsewhere in the campaign world. [10 HD large skeletons - 50/50 warriors w/ silver swords, sickles and bronze breastplates or sorcerors with 1d6 spells your players have never seen before]

Once a 20 is rolled, the great pit is exhausted. No more useful bodies can be dug up, just parts & pieces for the Font of Bones.

*****

Once again the Tome of Horrors delivers the goods! I love the Font of Bones in the original adventure, but after Vuk Thuul's player had the idea of cliffside human sacrifices, everything fell into place and I had to frame the Tomb this way. Player-directed worldbuilding!

The Drowning Dead

ACHTUNG: This post is actually pretty grim and contains descriptions of real-world torture & executions, be warned!

*****

Well shit. I owe Joesky more back-taxes than I owe the government by now! Let's get into something useful, some fun undead varieties from Land's End.

The Drowned Lands at the center of my Land's End hexmap is the locus of the setting. It's home to the lizardfolk, one of the few non-chaotic humanoid groups. One of the PCs is a lizardman so relations should start cordially - leading to plenty of roleplaying opportunities and adventure hooks. Most of the ancient cities and monoliths of the elder races lie in the swamps, for reasons unknown.

I'm excited about next session: my PCs are about to delve into the great swamp in search of Aercius' lost holy symbol, still held by his arm which was ripped off by a horde of zombies years ago! Of course it's a viciously dangerous region, so we'll see how much time the PCs spend there. The undead hordes make it especially difficult:


The Dead Legion

When the Empire of Man held (nominal) control over the wilderness beyond the Barrier, they stationed hundreds of soldiers to control the humanoid swamp-dwellers and guard the valuable resources they attempted to exploit. As Imperial might waned, the locals reclaimed what was theirs. One particular revolutionary slaughter destroyed an entire Imperial legion, leaving a literal mountain of corpses heaving out of the swamp. Over the years the site has been avoided by the locals, who so hated the invaders it was decided they weren't even worth eating.

Now the island stirs with vile unlife. A wriggling mass of slime-covered bones reaches out of the swamp, and some of these bones crawl, swim and walk away to pursue the Dead Legion's unknown purpose. What force animates these long-dead soldiers, and why now?

Of course it's all the clergy of Orcus' fault. Their activity in the Tomb of Abysthor to the south, digging in the great and ancient pit of bones, has emboldened them. One of their more puissant clerics has built a small house on the island of bodies and digs underneath through the rotting mound, for purposes unknown.

The only swamp faction that has to deal with the Legion is the bog elves. The island reaches down into their shadowed mirror-world beneath the waters of the swamp. Hanging upside-down above them in the black like a pale, rotting white sun. They hate it. Sometimes a few Legionnaires drop off and fall into their shadowy kingdom to cause death and mayhem - the elves fear what might occur should the island be destroyed or broken up completely.


[Dead Legion: Stats as normal skeletons. Slimy bones make them difficult to grapple (-4 penalty). Rusting weapons (-1 dmg) break on an attack roll of 1 or 20. Depending on the unit, they will have light or medium armour. I'm using chain shirts or breastplates (50% chance of each). All armour is rusted to hell (-2 AC). Dead Legionnaires speak a mix of Skeletongue and Imperial Common.]

Adapted from the Dyson Logos classic 'Challenge of the Frog Idol,' which you can get for free HERE.

Rebels & Sacrifices

The lizardfolk were the worst hit by the old Imperial occupation. A proud and violent warrior culture does not bend to the yoke easily. In those days, the empire had ruthless methods of putting down rebels and "traitors." Their public executions were legendary, and included the swift "Dozen Swords" and the slow, torturous Leng Tch'e: death by a thousand cuts. Many lizardfolk braves suffered these torments, which still loom large in their imagination hundreds of years later.

The tsathar and crabmen were just killed - too chaotic or stupid to be made use of anyway. All these corpses were just dumped in the rivers and ponds of the drowned lands.

In the distant past, when every humanoid race was in thrall to the gods of Chaos, even the proud lizardfolk conducted sacrifices to appease those ancient demon lords. Strangulation, drowning, impalement or worse were all pronounced by the high priests. They turned from that path ages ago, but the swamp remembers. The bodies of those sacrificed to propitiate the demon lords litter the drowned lands, and sometimes they wake up...


[Lizardfolk Zombie: Stats as normal zombies but great lizard-strength gives them +1 to damage. If you're playing Pathfinder, I guess you're stuck using templates like me. Those zombies who died at Imperial hands speak their normal language, while sacrificial victims of the old ways may speak Draconic or even Hissing if they're truly ancient.]

They differ by method of execution, roll for each individually (d6):

1 - Strangulation: Neck is bent at a disconcerting angle, head may be fixed or flop about sickeningly. The head can be damaged or even destroyed without affecting the zombie's HP total.

2 - Bamboo Impalement: Tied down over new bamboo shoots, which can grow 4cm in an hour, slowly impaling the body. The assortment of bamboo spikes in the corpse can be thrown like small javelins (1d6), or the zombie can attempt a spiky bearhug (2d6 on a successful grapple, 1d6 to an attacker who attempts a grapple).

3 - Leng Tch'e: The eyes, ears, nose, tail and organs of generation have been cut off, to say nothing of strips of flesh all over the body. Perpetually oozing blood from numberless wounds. No special abilities - they're just horrifying.

4 - Swamp Drowning: Mud poured down its throat and sunk to the bottom of the swamp. It will attempt to grapple and pin an enemy, and drown them by coughing & vomiting a perpetual flow of river mud into their mouths. Use your system's drowning rules, or say 1d8 damage and -1 CON per attack.

5 - Fed to Crabs: A horde of small yellow & green swamp-crabs live in the zombie's abdomen. I'm going to use a half-HD version of Pathfinder's "Crab Swarm" monster (I suppose there are SOME useful things about the system). Simply put, take 1d6 damage every round you stand within 5' of the zombie.

6 - Dozen Swords: Impaled by 2d6 rusting imperial swords right through its body. Just like the Man of Wounds from Varlets & Vermin. Its hit points/HD are equal to the damage rolled by all the swords stuck into it. Striking it causes your weapon to stick, and adds hit points equal to the weapon's damage. Damage it by removing a weapon from its body. When all weapons are gone, it's dead.


*****

Phew, that was a good one! Lots of cool shit coming up soon, let's keep it rocking:

The Slithering Dead

THE STANDING STONES

In the jungles and swamps past the Barrier, forlorn carven monoliths dot the landscape. Engraved with strange runes none now living can understand, explorers who happen across them assume they are the scratchings of degenerate humans or lizardfolk. In fact these stones were carved by the primordial snake-men in the time before humanity. Now they are one of the only traces left of those mysterious beings.

Every snake-man was a born sorceror. Magic was life, it permeated all they did and made. The magic in their standing stones is faint and difficult to reach, but it's still there. All the obelisks stand in empty jungle clearings where no tree obscures the skies. Even so, the constant rain slackens to a gentle mist. Wild animals avoid them - instincts turn them away.

The perfect place to rest.

But when you sleep near an obelisk its old magic can reach you. In your dreams will appear visions of a lost world: great halls and vaults underground, laboratories where the "ancient" races of the world were engineered to be slaves. A millennium of dominion over the earth. Looking down at your hands in this dream, you'd see only the scaly talons of a reptile. Waking up from these dreams leaves a human feeling odd, drained. Uncomfortable in his primate skin. Not sure of his place in the world. [In game terms, a cumulative -1 to attack rolls, saves, morale checks, anything else you like per night of sleeping next to an obelisk]


THE DREAMING DEAD

All undead in Land's End - no matter their diverse origins - are dreamers. They aren't awake, aren't alive, but act as if they were. Sleepwalking from beyond the wall of death they chase the ambitions and whims they once cherished and believe themselves real. The cult Orcus conducting their foul rites of undeath are in a way oneiromancers of a very specific and dreadful kind. Their spells whisper to dead souls, cajoling them into wakefulness just enough to animate their bodies as puppets for the goat-god's will.

The lowly skeleton has no idea it lives a dream of its old existence. It craves food, warmth, treasure, companionship and glory just as in life, but sees these goals through a haze of unreality. It isn't exactly an automaton, it has the same mind it did before dying albeit massively compromised. It can still speak the languages it knew and sometimes recognize familiar faces, but its priorities have shifted. It's so cold, being dead. So tiring. The cravings. The hunger. Food you can never taste, sex you can never have, it's enough to turn dream into nightmare. And who hasn't had a nightmare about choking their best friend to death once or twice...?

Intelligent, 'free-willed' undead like vampires or liches could be likened to lucid dreamers who have learned to change the rules of the world to suit their whims. A vampire can taste the blood of humans and remind itself what living in the waking world was like. The puissant magical fires within a lich's rotting brain keep it warm, a small consolation but more than most get.


THE SLITHERING DEAD

Dying near a snake-man obelisk is a bad idea. Over time, the stored memories of those snake-men worm their way into what's left of the dead brain. Falling into the dream of unlife, they find their bodies totally unsuited to their memories and feelings. Squirming along the ground on brittle bones where they remember supple scales, reaching out to bite with an omnivore's dull teeth instead of venomous fangs.

Memories of snakes, dreaming through the bodies of men. Twice removed from the real world. Less than the sum of their parts.

Through this haze of perception they know only the hunt for food, for prey. The great technology and magic of the snake-man civilization is all closed to them. They wriggle along the ground, a parody of a real snake's movements. Piling on top of each other, clacking their bones together. Hissing through chattering teeth.

Confused, cold, lost.
And hungry.


*****

Only one song could follow this post:

Nameless Cults 666: Reflections of the Solstice / I'm Flaying Everyone

Here we go with some cultishness that for once isn't based in H.P. Lovecraft! 

I'll bet you thought it would never happen. Starting with the heaviest, nastiest, most Black Metal bad guy, the whole reason I'm using the classic demon lords in the first place:

ORCUS!!!
AKA Prince of the Dead, The Goatlord, Yredelemnul, His Corpulence

Why even play Labyrinth Lord without Orcus? He is the game's mascot. The question is how to make him scary, dangerous and interesting? We already have Chthulhu, Azathoth and other extra-dimensional beings inimical to human life and sanity.

The difference has to be interest. Yog-Sothoth doesn't care about you and doesn't even notice its human worshippers, but Orcus Wants You to play Labyrinth Lord! (and for his army of the undying). He answers prayers, gives instructions and sends servants and avatars to Earth, just like normal D&D gods & demons.

If you don't want this guy in your game, then fuck you.

In classic D&D and Labyrinth Lord, Orcus is the lord of the undead, but I've already given some control over undeath to the Esoteric Order of Dagon, who raise the drowned from beneath the waves. Of course lots of people could learn to raise the dead, but I want more flavour.

Since I included muscled-up Chris Moyen goat monsters in my game, they naturally fall under Orcus' purview. Let's say their own legends place him as their ancient progenitor. If this is true, it means they are a race of true demons living on Earth, and should be vulnerable to banishment, holy word, etc, although few pious folks are interested in finding out. No musclegoat-women have ever been spotted, and nobody knows if they are created, summoned through gates from Orcus' realm, or born by some other means.

Orcus also resembles Baphomet, which is interesting. D&D and heavy metal already combine in a great way, but Baphomet means the occult is no longer implied, it MUST be involved. This gives Orcus domain over secrets, forbidden magic and maybe some groups worship him under the guise of some other being, never knowing who they really pay homage to? I see it as Orcus representing all the things your mom's church said D&D was about. Orcus' priests will have special spells, and I can try to base them on historical ceremonial magic to add that little bit of Extra.

The grand-daddy of them all.

To sum up:

Orcus is the demon lord of all black metal topics: undead, goatmen, spikes, whips, church burnings, human sacrifice, the occult and crucifixions. He opposes Christianity (unlike Satanism, which I'm placing alongside Gnosticism, etc as one of many choices in a MUCH more tolerant, polytheistic and unrealistic Judeo-Christian pantheon), countering the ideas of piety, meekness, martyrdom, and heavenly reward with: existing forever among the undead.

He is not charismatic, tempting or sly. He just sits around saying "Hey human, you wanna live forever? Well, here's the next best thing: lichdom, or if you aren't a wizard, maybe as a shadow or wight or something. We'll give you a bunch of skeleton slaves and you can keep all the goth girls to yourself."

"Don't like it? Finger of Death!!"

LICK THE HOOF.

Placing the worship of Orcus in the setting should be quite easy: the historical Orcus was a Roman underworld deity. So I'm thinking Rome made dire bargains to preserve its power in the waning years of the corrupt empire. Along with Demogorgon and other demon lords, Orcus was invoked by the Romans during their withdrawal from the old city of Londinium. The disastrous results of that final battle can still be seen today by anyone foolish enough to venture near that cursed city (better believe we'll be seeing more of it soon).

Wherever decadent and corrupt Roman culture still lives in Albion, the worshippers of Orcus can't be far behind. They hate that they were driven underground by Christianity, and sometimes make temporary alliances with other forgotten cults to bring down the age of the Crucified One.

The other great thing about putting Orcus in the game is I can use all those Necromancer Games adventures I have, since they also love the guy and so many of the dungeons were built by his cultists. Holy fuck, should Rappan Athuk, the dreaded Dungeon of Graves, be somewhere in Albion? Maybe/maybe not, but there is a good stack of other great adventures to be used. The Crucible of Freya and The Tomb of Abysthor are both sweet low-level jams.

Flipping through these modules again is already getting me stoked to start hacking them up and shoehorning them into the game!

*****

I was going to write up Demogorgon too, but I forgot about this! I simply can't come close to doing a demon lord like the aliens from Animal Man and referencing every band with that name from Metal Archives. I'll try and reinterpret some other classic D&D villains if I can.

*****

Now here is a fat stack of Orcus-approved albums:

The main thing:

You have no choice but to turn this up loud:

Hella fast goat-grind, listen or be FLAYED:

Worth it for the atmosphere, vocals and guitar tone alone:

Monster grab-bag

Okay, I haven't posted in a while. Just to keep up a shade of appearances, here is one article so at least I'll have a "2016" entry on the side bar over there. A few of my roommates and buddies went to play AD&D 2nd edition yesterday while I had to work, but it got me thinking about other things I have lying around in the can. Here's a small start:


BLOOD SKELETONS

No. Appearing: 1d4 
Alignment: C 
Move: 90’ (30’)
Armour Class: 13
Hit Dice: 1 hit point 
Attacks: 1
Damage: 1d6
Save: Fighter 
Morale: 12 
Experience: Special

I got these guys from Castlevania. Fairly simple concept. They are “impossible” to kill permanently - 1d4 rounds after being reduced to 0 HP, a blood skeleton will get up and resume attacking until it's destroyed for good. 1000 experience if you can concoct a method for permanently destroying one. Each time you invent a new method you can get the bonus again. I like putting these near places the PCs might like to linger and check things out or solve puzzles, or maybe just some high traffic area of the dungeon, where spending time fighting them will draw the attention of bigger, scarier problems.


WITCH-HAGS OF ANNWN, Lesser

No. Appearing: 1d6 (3d6)

Alignment: C

Move: 40’ (15’) / fly 90’ (30’)

Armour Class: 12

Hit Dice: 3

Attacks: 2

Damage: 1d6

Save: Magic User

Morale: 8

Hoard Class: XVII

Experience: 95

You know them, you love them. There isn't much point in throwing up a picture, you all get it. Call them whatever you like, these cackling troublemakers float around the dungeon ceilings, waiting to harass, torment and eventually kill their victims. Greater Witch-Hags are rumoured to exist, but no-one living has ever seen one.

They carry a long knitting needle in one hand, and a cleaver or butcher knife in the other, wearing long, sweeping green rags that trail behind them as they fly through the air. They love treasure and will hoard whatever they take from adventurers. They attack males first, and when all are dead, will allow any females 1d3 rounds to flee, unless they seem to have especially nice gear or treasure. Due to their prejudices, they have a +4 reaction adjustment with men and -4 with women. They have two special attacks:

1 - Stabbing themselves with their knitting needle, which does 1d4 damage to one target in 60' (the target makes a saving throw vs. death - no attack roll needed). They can do this every round, in addition to a melee attack or their other special ability:

2 - They will cut out their own organs with their butcher knives and send them to attack their victims. Each Witch-Hag can have up to 3 organs attacking at a time. Stats: Fly 90’ (30’), AC 15, HD 1, Att 1, Dmg 1d4, SV F1. The organs can be turned like undead, or if they can be captured the hags will pay a ransom to get them back. They attack by choking, smothering, or even just splashing greenish-black  ichors and humours on their victims. If a Witch-Hag's organ is destroyed, she loses HP equal to the organ’s. I love the mental image of a PC being strangled to death by an animated small intestine.


THE HORSE ROTORVATOR (Dungeon Version)

No. Appearing: 1 

Alignment: C 

Move: 150’ (50’) 

Armour Class: 16 

Hit Dice: 6 

Attacks: 1-4 

Damage: 1d8

Save: Fighter

Morale: 12

Experience: 570

Inspired by one of the best Coil albums. The lower mandibles of four giant horses, stuck together in an 'X' shape. It rotates and rolls around like a clacking wheel. Can “bite” with up to four jawbones in a round, but because it has to keep moving to make the next attack it can't attack any target more than once per round. It chews & grinds up the floor as it passes, making a CLACKETYCLACK sound. Also, somewhere deep in the dungeon are four murdered horses with no jaws. Creepy. The full-size wilderness version would probably be 150 feet tall with ten times the Hit Dice, as is described on the record itself:

“On the Eve of the Apocalypse – the Four Horsemen betray their steeds – slitting open the animal throats – and in doing so release the Second Great Deluge – Horsegore – (The air choked with horsehair) – Infinite Divisibles Split – An infinity of open sewers.

The Four then fashion an immense earth-moving device from the collective jawbones – The Horse Rotorvator – with which to plough up the waiting world – (ROTA turns through 180 degrees to TARO) – Wheels replace Horses – Dark Horses Run – Dark Horses Run Deep (We plough the fields and scatter Our Dead Steeds on the land) … and Hell is paved with horseflesh”

Now jam these tracks to give your players the proper sense of trepidation in your next dungeon.

I suddenly have a lot of free time.

I was in a band until about 2 weeks ago, when the bullshit finally became too much. After 2 1/2 years of tantrums, yelling, imperious commands, and generally being treated like someone's whipping boy and slave, it was time to go.

Similarly, my "job" has gradually reduced in hours/week until I can't survive on it anymore. So begins the hated resume-polishing, door-knocking and cold-calling.

I've been gaming with a few acquaintances on & off for the last year. Our sessions are infrequent, many players don't show up for a month or more, and we have a bad case of "gamer ADD" - before a given campaign gets off the ground, we've started playing something new.

I had been reading Ars Ludi and The Alexandrian for several years, but without a regular, serious gaming group, I could only take notes and dream of running a game again. In the spring, I stumbled across some of the OSR blogs and began reading voraciously. Suddenly, I remembered what my life was all about back home - gaming! I went out and bought the Pathfinder core rulebook, roped my roommates into rolling up characters, and just like that - I'm back!

GMing again feels like riding a bike after five years away: I'll never forget how to do it, but I'm a little unsteady. It's great fun sitting on my bedroom floor drawing maps on graph paper while listening to REM, just like I did when I was 14. After very little consideration, I decided to start up my own blog and see how it goes. I'll be posting up my ruminations as I develop my campaign world; new monsters, spells and magic items; session reports (maybe); house rules, and all kinds of other fun stuff.

That's more than enough preamble for now. Let's give the people something they can use:


OUBLIETTE, aka CAGE SKELETON

This is a monster that's geared towards scaring your players. It's a skeleton inside a man-shaped spiky metal cage, hanging from the ceiling by a chain. It looks like some unfortunate bastard stuck in there to rot by the local Duke or whoever, until it reaches through the bars to choke the shit out of passersby. Throw it in your next prison or torture chamber to surprise-attack the PCs!

Stats for these things are pretty simple.

Use regular Skeleton numbers, except their natural AC and hit points are higher, and give them some more Damage Reduction if you have that in your game. They have the 'Grab' and 'Constrict' abilities if you're playing Pathfinder.

We almost had a TPK when I put these up against my PCs, because I didn't read the grappling rules for Pathfinder very closely. I thought 'Grab' allowed an instant grapple when it only allows for a free grapple check. So every time they attacked, the PC was immobilized and started taking damage. It didn't take long to put a few guys below 0, but the ranger and cleric pulled a few clutch moves and saved the day, so it all worked out in the end.