Thursday, May 29, 2014

Frogstar Peninsula Hexcrawl v0.2

Ugh.  I've been typing for so long I feel nauseous.

I chose the Frogstar Peninsula for my first hexcrawl.  It's the only place in Centerra where you can see the Frogstar in the sky.  I wrote some rumors for it a couple of days ago.

So here's the area of Centerra that's getting turned into a hexcrawl.  I've never done a hexcrawl before, so a I figure that a 16x16 grid of 8-mile hexes would cover a decent area.


I was fucking wrong.  128 miles is nothing on a big world map like this one.

Anyway, I made the hex map.  That doesn't look so hard to fill out!  That doesn't look so big!


Except it is big.  16 x 16 = 256.  Even if I didn't fill in the water tiles, I'd still be writing 125 entries.  That's on par with that giant bullshit House of Hours thing I wrote once.  (And that thing is halfway to having an actual PDF.  It's just LARGE and WEIRD and STRANGELY HUGE).

(I wonder how much work it would be to cover the whole continent of Centerra with hex crawls?  Is that a good life goal?  I'm 26, and I don't know what good life goals are anymore.)

Anyway, I plan for the Frogstar Peninsula to be a good spot for levels 1-3.  It will have 10+ mini dungeons (<10 rooms) and 3 full-size dungeons.  The TREE PALACE OF THE APE KING, the WATERFALL WARRENS, and the SECRET FROGSTAR DUNGEON THAT DOESN'T EVEN APPEAR ON THE MAP.

Honestly, I'm more excited about the mini dungeons.  My favorite part of any Zelda game is taking time out from the epic main quest to investigate some random hole in the ground, and then being delighted when the hole in the ground has more than 1 room.  Because I never know what I'm going to find in those random mini dungeons.  Big epic dungeons, I got expectations.

Starting Out

I have given some thought to how to start players out.  They could enter from the civilized direction: Fort Forello, on the southern border.  They could land in one of the harbors from god-knows-where.  Or they could be passengers on a ship that is attacked by pirates, and then either escape to shore or join up with pirates.  Or they could be prisoners on a ship that is attacked by pirates, and make their escape through the hole that the catapult stones tear through the wall.  That would be cool.

Spoiler Warning

If you happen to be already playing on the Frogstar Peninsula, you should probably stop reading now.  You know who you are.  Yes, you in the loincloth.  And your friend in the puffy pirate shirt.  Stop reading.

Or if you keep reading, just skin through it really fast.  I mean there's 125+ entries.  No way are you going to remember more than a smidge of this stuff.  I can't remember more than a smidge of this stuff.

Stop Procrastinating and Show Me the Entries

I reference the Book of Mice a few times in here.  It's a pdf bestiary I wrote.

CAUTION: These entries are very big (17,000 words) and may bog your computer.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Frogstar Peninsula Rumors


I've started work on a hexcrawl.  It's swamp, but also some hills and a small peninsula.

It is said that there is a bright green star that can be seen from no where else in the world.  It burns in the southern sky, as constant as an emerald on black felt.

It is said that the bog mermaids have begun to return from the cold slime in which they slumbered.  They blink their dark eyes at the humans in their land.  Their sharp teeth speak languages that have been dead for centuries.

It is said that farms have gone dry, and violence spills from the earth.  It is no longer safe to travel alone.

It is said that the city of Angelspit is sinking into the bog, while the dullard inhabitants sit on their heels, placidly eating frogs and snails.

It is said that the Tree Palace of the Ape King grows higher every day.  The ruler of that place grows fat with tribute brought from pirates.

It is said that panthers speak all the tongues of the world, and use this gift to charm their prey.

It is said that the sprites speak of something called the Fragrant Mother.  (Or perhaps the Odorous Woman.  Or perhaps the Perfumed Vagina.  Their patois is a bit thick.)

It is said that fossils have been discovered in the earth, and an elf has come to excavate them.

It is said that a cult has been discovered in the city of Angelspit.  The heretics have been hung and their nest of sin has been burned.  Yet something remains, hesitating like a voice on the wind.

It is said that a witch is poisoning the whole swamp with her necromancy, and is responsible for an outbreak of bilge shivers.

It is said that serpents have been seen migrating through the swamp toward some singular destination, as if of one mind.

It is said that echoes of metal and industry have begun to ring out from the dark halls in the hills.

It is said that a sea witch has begun to prey on passing ships with a mixture of magic and whales, one of which she rides inside.

It is said that the man who leads the poachers does not bleed nor sleep.  Their traps have taken on a stranger and deadlier turn.



Gengrigar

This excellent Gengrigar was drawn by Claytonian.
He runs KIWF and is working on The Wizardarium of Calibraxis.
It demonstrates a Gengrigar's smirking trollface.

Giant, round, soft, laughing fey.  Utterly apathetic. Polymorph addicts, cannibals, and compulsive liars.

Pronounded GENNG-reh-gar (kinda sounds like "Genghes Khan")

Ogre mages are kind of awkward.

I supposed they're based on Japanese oni?  Eh.  They seem a bit like a generic boss version of ogre.  (If you want to make a boss version of a monster, just give it more HD and spellcasting ability and/or make it smarter and/or a funny color).

Here's my replacement:

in so many words

Gengrigar are tall.  Maybe 9' tall, and almost as broad.  They don't have shoulders, but their arms just sort of slope around their round body.  Their faces look flat and dead but full of teeth, like a drowned shark.  Behind that toothsome smile is a blunted face and a series of blunt cranial spikes that pass for hair.  Their skin is dusky purple and feels impossibly soft and unctuous, like the softest leather.  Their skin smells like baby skin.

Their body is soft and warm, like an egg cell.  It is not made of fat, but rather something softer and more pleasant.  It is dusky and enveloping.  Not matter what it does, it will always be hugging you back.  It's corpse would make a wonderful bed.

They reproduce by splitting in half.

The softness nearly weightless.  Lighter than marshmallows and whipped cream.  The whole creature weighs less than a man.  Perhaps that is why they fly around so easily.

They dress in fine silks, but when these things become sullied with blood and feces they do not notice.  The finery is not replaced when it gets dirty; it is replaced as soon as the Gengrimar finds some silks that catch its fancy.  Most of them carry a cane or a walking stick.

They are utterly amoral and care only for their own pleasures (usually food and amusement).  They lie constantly and unthinkingly.  If you catch them in a lie (and you will; they are careless) they will not blink an eye.  They will pile up more lies on top of the failed one.  Higher lies and deeper.  But they will stop listening to you as soon as you become annoying or boring.

They don't care what you have to say.  Very few things concern them.

You might think they they just walk around the place, stealing things and eating people.  And you'd be halfway right.  They do that sometimes.  But when they do stuff like that, they tend to attract the wrong kind of attention, and then there are suddenly large groups of armed people trying to kill them, and then they have to fly away to somewhere else.  And that's inconvenient.  They've found better ways to live a good life.

Better Way #1: Fly your fat self into town.  Charm everyone.  Sleep in the mayor's bed.  Have them bring you their finest meats and cheeses.  Take all the attractive women in the town of marriageable age and stack them on top of yourself.  Occasionally help the town out with their small problems, so they can justify their actions to themselves (otherwise charm breaks).  Leave when the food runs out or when you get bored.

Have I mentioned that Gengrigar eat a lot?

Better Way #2:  Wander the highways, searching for diversion.  When you get hungry, charm some passing farmer and buy his leg off of him.

Better Way #2.5: Fly around, asking riddles.  Some of these riddles don't have any answer.  If they are given the wrong answer, they eat your leg.  The right answer earns money, if they care long enough to pay it out.  They might just sigh and fly away.

Have I mentioned that Gengrigar carry a lot of money?  Sometimes in a big sack on their back.

In a way, Gengrigar are bigger murderhobos than the PCs are.  They just wander around, killing mostly indiscriminately, humiliating powerful opponents, and carrying an unwieldy amount of treasure.

pierrot

This is a video of Mad Pierrot from Cowboy Bebop.
It demonstrates how a Gengrigar floats around the battlefield.

Gengrigar are also playful and cheerful.  Nothing gets them depressed.  If you stab one, he'll laugh and mock you, even up to the point of death.

There is nothing that Gengrigar hate more than self-righteous do-gooders.  It's anathema to them.  Sober, grim goodness is the opposite of their careless, whimsical evil.  They reward kindness with cruelty.  Sympathy with scorn.  They are insane, as far as humans are concerned.

They sometimes travel the countryside, transforming animals into all sorts of disgusting, dangerous, or hilarious creations (random chance of each).  They leave a swath of deformed elephants, screaming trees, and carnivorous pink sheep.

Of course, they sometimes set up shop in a more traditional way, and lead a group of ogres/orcs/goblins in pillaging and terrorizing the countryside.  Their playful hedonism continues here as well, and their bases are always ludicrous affairs filled with disgusting, dangerous, or hilarious creations.  Though they live in squalor, they will still use high titles.  A heap of scrap wood becomes "my munificent throne".  A slovenly trull becomes "the imperial concubine, Lady Transfiguration".

Even the ogres that follow a Gengrigar are likely to be transformed into something more appropriate (baby-faces, blue skin, inside-out, etc).

They use their questing curse to put a compulsion on adventurers.  They especially like to get adventurer's to perform inane or pointless quests.  ("Bring me a rat tail from the Citadel of Trials.  Bring me wagon of hydra manure.  Etc.")

One of the most infuriating things that a Gengrigar does is pretend that it is the do-gooder, and that the PCs are the villains.  It uses all the spells at its disposal to persecute the PCs, hopefully while the whole village looks on and cheers the triumph of the Gengrigar.

When they address other people, it's always with names of their own devising.  The fighter becomes "Squire Farmsmell".  The sorceress becomes "Pooplord Wencherly".  It's like they don't see the world when they look at it.  Instead they see something idealized, playful, and contemptible.
This is a video of Magic Man from Adventure Time.
He best embodies the Gengrigar ethos.

Gengrigar
HD 7
Reaction +0 / Int 17 / Morale 6
Move 12 / Fly 12 (human speed)

AC 15
Attack cane +7 (1d8+3)
Save 9+

Regenerate: 1 hp / round
Squishy: take double damage from piercing
Rich: Gengrigar carry 2x as much money as their stats suggest.
Spells (at-will): charm person*, polymorph self, polymorph other*, minor illusion*, questing curse*
Death Curse: Upon dying, all coins carried by the Gengrigar are converted (or "exchanged") for copper ones.  This usually causes the Gengrigar's coin purses to explode and shoot pennies everywhere.

charm person and polymorph other can only be attempted once per target per day.

minor illusion is a lesser version of phantasmal force.  It's obviously an illusion (too bright, too loud, or too crude), and so can never cause damage or fool anyone.  They mostly use it to make silly things appear in the sky.

questing curse is a lesser version of geas.  It can only be cast on willing people.

They aren't big fans of honest combat.  They're more likely In combat, be sure you abuse polymorph self and minor illusion to create plenty of diversions and hiding places.


Although this is a pretty good smirk, too.

DM Talk

In case it wasn't obvious, Gengrigar are pretty much the ultimate trolling device (have you read their death curse?)  They could potentially be a bigger gotcha than a mimic, or a better way to piss off your players than those things that look like ceilings but are really just asshole manta rays.  Trappers?  I guess.

So, the trick to using a Gengrigar is. . . don't be a dick.

Ideally, introduce the idea of a Gengrigar before you meet one.  Let your players know that these horrible fucking things exist in the world before they walk up and turn someone into a newt.

Let Gengrigar be approachable.  Let them be something that the party can reason with, at least for a little bit.  Make them a little bit more like the Joker and a little less like Bizarro.

If you want them to lead a bunch of bandits and ogres, make them a mad maestro behind the scenes.  And when it comes crashing down around his head, he'll die laughing--unless he just flies away.

And if you absolutely must have someone turn someone into a dung-goblin (or a microcephalic hermaphrodite, a dolphin with arms and legs, etc) and then swear not to remove the curse until a certain quest is done, you might as well use a gengrimon instead of a random wizard.  Gengrimon corpses make better beds, at least.


WHY DON'T THEY EVER STOP SMILING

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Lands


Land of Angry Oceans
Land of Electric People
Land of Singing Mountains
Land of Lambs and Plasma
Land of Buffaloes and Beer
Land of Mud and Monkeys
Land of Furious Drums
Land of Collapse
Land of Beasts
Land of Sharks and Vibrato
Land of Storms and Trembling
Land of Grasping Hands
Land of Flowers
Land of Hungry Earth
Land of Black Milk
Land of No Beasts
Land of The Monolith
Land of The Great Corpse
The Undying Land
The Dancing Land
Land of Autumn Rot
The Yellow Land
The Clockwise Land
Land of Bone and Rag
Tattered Land
Land of Saliva and Gold
Land of Funerals
Land of Lords and Lances
Land of Very Small Gods
Land of Pain and Consequences


Saturday, May 24, 2014

The Madness of Avool



Avool pan Ankhri was a failing con artist. He made a living by selling snake oils, false cures, and famously--pamphlets. He worked out of Shar (before it fell to the orcs, who rechristened it Babarukh), and could often be seen on the streets selling his worthless potions and false charms against the evil eye. He also sold booklets of pseudo-religious nonsense: The Secrets of the Celestial Martyrs, The Hidden Prophecies of St. Nashanial, and The Five Forbidden Pressure Points of Dreadful Death.

After a particularly bad day, involving the collections of debt collectors, the scorn of the crowds, and the infidelity of his mistress, Avool sank into a particularly black mood. He retreated into his wagon to write what would be his last pamphlet: The True Nature of Our Situation. He took the pamphlet to the printer's and had a few hundred copies made. By the next day Avool pan Ankhri was selling them in the marketplace, and the printer was found hung from the rafters, his heels swaying in the cold air.


The First Madness

The facts are these:

Anyone who reads The True Nature will fall into a deep depression, and eventually take their own life.

Anyone who is told enough about The True Nature will fall into a deep depression, and eventually take their own life.

Anyone who learns about the philosophies of The True Nature, even by scrying or oracle, will fall into a deep depression and eventually take their own life.

In this way, the poisonous words of Avool Pan Ankhri spread across Shar, as people shared the pamphlets and discussed it with each other. Mothers wondered what their child had been reading before he took his own life.  Men tried to talk their friends out of suicide, only to find themselves quickly convinced enough to join them.  Even when a state of panic over the number of suicides gripped the city, philosophers and mages continued to seek out the booklet and read it--perhaps not believing that words on a page would drive them to end their own life.

Avool was forced to flee angry mobs of people whose loved ones had committed suicide. He crossed the bay to the Seamount, and hid for days in the caves. It was said that he carved a sequel to "The True Nature" into the inside of the caverns there. But, he was eventually captured by Shar guards with their ears plugged to avoid hearing the toxic words that Avool shouted while they carried him back for trial.

(Almost) all surviving copies of the dread pamphlet were destroyed, and all talk of it was banned. This is the only act of censorship ever enacted by Sharland.  Since it was not considered a crime to print a pamphlet that wasn't treasonous, the city decided to imprison him for life, despite the enormous public outcry.  He is there to this day, in a soundproof cell.  The guards stuff their ears with wax and try to avoid looking at any words that the madman might have scratched in the dust.

Interestingly, the copies of The True Nature that were studied (but not read) by mages revealed them to be nonmagical, and completely devoid of compulsion-type enchantments. Any compulsion that they created in their readers was simply by the power of the words alone. The only person who has read the pamphlet without incident is Lhasadet, one of the serypha and the head librarian at the Library of Kalamon.  She agreed with the wizard’s diagnosis, saying that the pamphlet was “just lines of ink on a parchment.”

Avool pan Ankhri seems to have written the single most depressing, fatalistic publication in existence.


The Second Madness

Even after the Madness of Avool had driven many of the citizens to Shar to suicide, it was some years later when the true evil of what Avool had created was realized.

The pamphlets had not been completely destroyed, and they could be copied safely by scribes who did not read Common. A few individuals began using The True Nature as justification for very evil deeds (although some of them were surely lying) or saying that the pamphlet had made them do the terrible things that they did. While the average person would receive the impression that "My life is not worth living", especially wicked individuals would gain the doctrine of "No one is worthy of life". Presumably, this was the philosophy that Avool pan Ankhri himself endorsed as he disseminated his terrible words. A number of death cults include all or part of The True Nature their doctrines.

The Third Madness

It seems that a people who continue living after reading The True Nature, and dwell frequently on the teachings of Avool, sometimes undergo a very bizarre physiological change. Specifically, several purple worms appear in their brain.

Scholars agree that this phenomenon is no more remarkable than how maggots spontaneously appear in rotten meat.

The worms were called the third madworms, and as they grow in one's skull, they cause headaches, delusions, and blackouts.  After being released from the skull (use your imagination), the worms can grow to enormous sizes. While the smaller ones are can be somewhat domesticated, the larger worms (30' or so) are incredibly aggressive. Some of the aforementioned cults raise the worms, releasing them when they grow too large to control, while keeping the smaller ones to guard their lairs.

At all life stages, each worm can speak, and has a vocabulary of exactly one word (presumably taken from The True Nature) that it continually mutters.  A third madworm can secrete a staggering array of poisons. Larger worms learn to fight intelligently and can manipulate tools with their mouth-tentacles.  Wizards call these things neothelids.


GM Notes

If you feed a program the wrong data or return the wrong variable type, it sometimes collapses into loops that can corrupt or crash the entire program.  This is what happens when a conscious being understands the ideas in The True Nature.  Like a prion (a single molecule) that can crystallize huge tracts of your brain.  Like a seed crystal that can turn a liquid to a solid without any magic needed.  This is what an idea does to parts of some unlucky brain.

The corrupted brain bits get trapped in this cycle, and they unconsciously begin to use magic.  This single, primordial spell turns nearby tissue into annelid germ plasm.  Alternate personalities get trapped in PCs brains all the time in fantasy settings.  This is like that--only its an brain subroutine gone rogue, an unconscious loop in the blind spot of the primitive brain.

To extrapolate this idea a bit: that a "cursed" fighter could simply have a corrupted subsection of his brain that is subconsciously casting crude spells.  This doesn't work in campaigns where spellcasting is strongly tied to intention and intelligence and nothing else.  But everywhere else, I believe this provides a novel and dangerous sort of "curse", that has its roots in memory, subsists through biology, and only eventually grows into the realm of magic later, if ever.

This has the potential to be an extremely dangerous piece of paper, and I wouldn't spring it on the PCs without some sort of warning.

A PC who started reading the pamphlet would quickly start making Will saves of increasing difficulty, with failures causing a morale penalty. After losing 5 or so, the PC should become suicidal. Even after the PC finishes reading it, they continue making Will saves as long as they think about it. If they want to stop thinking about it and put it out of their head, this requires another Will save, and even then, their mind might wander back to it at some later point. Magical means might be necessary to make them forget it completely.

If nothing else, a pamphlet of The True Nature makes for an interesting item.  Anyone who reads it will be driven to suicide in 2d20 hours.  I'm sure that a clever party can come up with all sorts of uses for that.

I really think that contents of The True Nature are best left undescribed--most people have their own ideas about what the most depressing thing is. If you insist, though, you could sprinkle in nihilist creeds, "God is Dead" quotes, or the depressing parts of determinism.

It really is just words on a paper. A poem can invoke emotion. This one can evoke a LOT of emotion.

I don't have a specific force that inspired Avool. I agree, though, that SOMETHING should be behind it. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.


Discussion

A lot of people will be raising their hands and asking how a non-magical thing can do magic?  Don't you need to be a wizard and study for years before you can do magic?

Well, no.

What exactly do you think is happening inside a wizard's head when he casts a spell?

At some point a non-magical thing has to produce a magical thing.  Non-magical brain tissues and non-magical gestures and non-magical noises eventually come together to produce a fireball spell.

Why does this have to be a conscious process?  Why can't it be a subconscious one?  Why can't it be a product of madness instead of years of study?  Both can create deep grooves in the brain.

This paradigm might not be something that players can exploit, but the world around them can have lots of weird instances of this (and should, I'd argue).

Two Ideas To Put In Your Own Game

A book or scroll that puts something in your body, just by reading it.

Magic coming from non-magical sources?