Dream #1

I think I might start blogging my dreams, if they are D&Dable enough.  I like the idea because I'm lazy, and also because it seems very post-human to upload my dreams to the internet.  

Anyway, this dream is sort of a model example.  It requires virtually no embellishment to be fucked up and semi-coherent.  This particular dream has three acts, which are semi-related.  I'm still not sure if they're part of a larger narrative or not.  But good job, brain.

ACT I

So I was showing up for work at the hardware store on a grey morning.  Everyone's cars were here, but the lights were off.  The store looked closed.

Inside, I could hear concerned voices talking in hushed tones.  My manager popped out into the aisle, red vest a-flutter, and said, "bring a mop."  So I did.

It was sprawled out in the middle of the screw-and-fastener aisle: a dead bear.  Or what I assumed was a dead bear.  It was semi-flattened, as if an 18-wheeler had run over it.  It's paws had been cut off.  Its eye sockets were featureless hollows.  And there was blood all over the cornflower blue tiles.

"Who wants to put it in a wheelbarrow so we can get it out of here?" someone asked.

Oh, not me.  Not me.

"How about. . . Mike, you do it.  And then you, Arnold, you start mopping up this mess."

Mike got bear blood all over his plaid shirt while trying to get the bear into the wheelbarrow.  It was big, even flattened.  When the bear corpse was in the wheelbarrow, I amused myself by poking it with my mop.

I would bop it on the nose and watch the head spring back.

After a couple of raps, it became obvious that the bear wasn't just flopping around, but was actively following my mop with its head, like a cat tracing birds out of the sky.

I moved the mop left and right, and the bear's blood-stained muzzled moved in the same pattern.  I moved the mop up and down, and the bear's empty hollows did the same.

Finally, realizing that this was all very scary, cleared my throat and stepped backwards.

Still following the mop, the bear tried to step out of the wheelbarrow.  Its limbs were flaccid and unsteady.  It was still flattened, like an understuffed teddy bear, except for its feet.  It took two steps out of the wheelbarrow before it slipped.  It managed half a somersault before it split open along hidden lines, spilling blood, meat, and metal all over the ground.  It looked like it was made entirely out of caltrops and uncooked ground beef, but looking back at it now, I am certain that there were also a couple loops of barbed wire, a piece of rebar, and a set of keys.  Perhaps even some screws and fasteners.

ACT II

I had come here to kill him.  He would be asleep by now, but even asleep, I knew he would be alert and vital.  And of course, always with a gun within arm's reach.

I had brought my two bears with me.  They were small.  Cubs, or close to it.  It was 3 am.

The front door opened after a moment's work, and I sent the first bear inside.  I watched its furry backside disappearing into the interior, as quiet as a mouse.  I had taught it to tip-toe.

I had taught that bear two other things.

The first was how to open doors.

The second was to take care of dogs, and I knew there was a German shepherd somewhere in this house.

I waited for a few minutes.  No alarm was raised.  No lights flicked on.  No gun shots, no barks.  I slipped inside, with the second bear under my left arm.

Rustic decorations loomed out the half-light.  Handmade wooden table.  Rocking chair.  A fucking quilt.

There was a dog bowl on the ground, and a dog bed, but no sign of the dog.

Here is how the first bear takes care of dogs: First it approaches the dog, slowly and submissively.  Then it plays with the dog.  Then it kills the dog and stuffs its body in a place where it will not be soon found, such as under the couch or in the cupboard beneath the sink.

I crept up to the main bedroom.  The door was ajar, with only darkness visible within.  I knew that the first bear was already inside, waiting for his brother.  The second bear was still tucked under my arm, squirming with eagerness.  Its skin was woven wire, and its eyes were ball bearings.  It panted, and I could see engine oil pooling on its tongue.

I gently put the second bear inside the room, then turned and fled from the house.  The success or failure of my mission would no longer depend on me.

I still don't know how the second bear takes care of people.

ACT III

I was operating the door to the radiation chamber.

This was important because we didn't want anyone entering or escaping the radiation chamber when it was turned on.

"Three seconds!" my boss shouted.

"Three seconds," I told the test subject.

I locked the door and walked around the nearest corner, just to be extra sure I wasn't exposed.  Golden orange light spilled out into the hallway behind me for exactly three seconds.

Checking the test subject, I could see that the experiment was a success.  Both of his arms and part of his head had been replaced with mechanical analogues.  His sensor nest trembled atop the stalk of cervical cordage.

I was delighted with this.  I let the test subject out of the chamber and ran over to report this success to my boss.  But as I did this, I tore open the skin on my arm, revealing reticulated bands of cables and actuators, fat and oiled inside my forearm.

"What is the meaning of this?" I asked my boss.  "Why am I also turning into a machine when I was so careful to avoid the radiation?"

My boss shook his head and regarded the test subject, who had shambled up behind me.

"There was never any radiation," he said.  "It was just an orange light and a buzzer."

The three of us were silent in thought for a minute.

"We should probably declare war on the whole world, then," one of us said.

"Psh."  Another one of us answered.  "That will never work."

"Then we should declare peace on the whole world," the third one said.

"That one is even less likely to work," said one of us, but they then I couldn't tell who was doing the talking anymore.

The Knights of Kel Dravonis

This is another post about the Star Beast Gravelands.  It is home to three roaming cities, of of which is Kel Dravonis, the city of necromancers.

It is wrong to call them death knights.  Sure, they (or more often, their lords) employ necromancy extensively in the service of their city.  But this is a necessity in the gravelands, where no trees grow and no metal can be found.  Death is their native process; corpses are their native currency.

The knights protect their houses and their king.  They also protect the skeleton trains, which pull the wheeled houses back and forth across the desert, always heading for the next corpse impact.

The skeleton trains are most susceptible to raiding, since each one is a visible string of valuable undead pulling on harnesses.  Most of the skeletons are humanoid, equine, or some hybrid of the two (assembled out of necessity and frugality).

Each death knight has a first name, a last name, 2 defining features, a squire, a distinctive steed, and an agenda.

First Name
1 - Vichorus
2 - Pascious
3 - Kelmoran
4 - Rhuzius
5 - Lictus
6 - Lavenish
7 - Dorn
8 - Galunzea
9 - Medria
10 - Kevahl
11 - Gestahli
12 - Dravok

Last Name
1 - pan Ect
2 - pan Mantagruel
3 - pan Volgrun
4 - pan Sectar Untat
5 - pan Ankhri
6 - pan Mool
7 - pan Evangelus
8 - pan Sepak
9 - pan Ark
10 - pan Iniquis
11 - pan Dhruzj
12 - pan Dross

Notable Feature (2 rolls)

1. Venomous rat skeletons nest in visible rib cage like lorikeets, leering.
2. Crow heads braided into beard + hair.  Sing dirges during battle.
3. Thin black smoke rises up from open wounds.
4. Tattoos squirm across bald pate like a snake orgy.
5. Dragging a coffin, or coffin strapped to back.  (50% chance of each.)
6. Many layers of teeth.  Revolve in mouth like garbage disposal.  Voice unsurprisingly also like garbage disposal.
7. Insects (especially moths) constantly landing on neck, ears and whispering secrets from distant lands.
8. Second set of arms attached at armpits or at elbows.  (50% chance of each.)
9. Fused with mount.  (See below.)  50% chance of gross obesity.
10. Visibly held together by set of animated armor.  33% that they are just a manicured head wearing make up, embedded in the chest of a bone-and-iron golem-thing.
11. Black iron spikes pierce ragged eye sockets.  Margins filled with lead, spilling onto cheeks like tears.  
12. Accompanied by undead harem and assistants (perservatives, needlework, perfume, lubricants)
13. Floats six inches above the ground.  No shadow.  50% chance of being a vampire.
14. Bestial, hirsute, and guttural.  Runs on all fours. Wears a monocle.
15. Has two heads, stacked like a totem pole.  Top head can cast spells as a wizard of equal level but will refuse to attack a cleric due to religious beliefs regarding salvation.
16. Wolves (or ape-hounds) howl in the distance whenever his/her name is mentioned.
17. Impossibly old.  Food spoils in his/her presence, blades tarnish.  Dust trickles from the corner of mouth when speaking.
18. Crucified lambs on pauldrons.
19. Weapon is sheathed through body.  (Usually a longsword sheathed in the shoulder, with the tip buried somewhere in the intestines.)
20. Angelic beauty.  Golden wings affixed to armor.  Ghastly white halo burns behind head.  Voice like a hurricane.

Squire (1 roll)

1. Emaciated squad of orphan children, the offspring of those slain by their master.  Loyal as fuck.
2. Elven courtesan, surprisingly strong and beautiful, filled with venomous worms that strengthen her even as they spy on her.  Not loyal, but pragmatic.
3. Ogre ghoul.
4. An intelligent, undead horse.  50% to have arms grafted to its head, beneath the ears.
5. Nine eunuchs that live inside a 5'x5' reliquary like it was a clown car.
6. Dyspeptic lizardman.
7. Fallen ex-paladin, brain destroyed by disease and necromancy.  Cannot speak except to mutter name of beloved, who does not know his fate.
8. Cheerful, evil bard.
9. Cheerful, good bard with strange morality.  Finds everything amusing.
10. Drowned man.
11. Robed figure.  Hidden beauty.  Enchanted to love his/her knight.  Aware of love enchantment.  Disgusted by enchantment but still painfully, unceasingly devoted to knight.
12. Zombie prince.

Steed (roll until it's weird as fuck*)

*alternatively, roll until it's more impressive than the last steed you just rolled up.  After all, it's all about outdoing the last guy.

The steeds of the knights were all "originally" horses.  But so much aftermarket modifications have been attached that its hardly a useful designation.  The knights compete to have the most powerful, disgusting, bizarre steed.  It is both art and intimidation.  Like retrofitting that '69 mustang to run on human blood.  

Each one has a starting weight of ~500 lbs.  Then flip a coin until you get a tails.  Double the steeds weight for each head.

1. Centipede horse.  2d6+6 horses decapititated (except for lead horse) and sewn together in series.  Capable of rearing up ~30' and crashing down for double damage.
2. Grafted head.  Roll 1d6: 1 crocodile, 2 human, 3 headless except for lance holder, 4 flamingo, 5 wolf, 6 cluster of horse heads.
3. Acidic blood.  Steam rises from its hollow flanks.  Trembles with liquid anxiety.
4. Distended belly.  Pregnant with swarm of horselings.  Will disgorge if threatened.  (5 HD swarm.)
5. Insectile apparatus infest and enhance the limbs.  Faster on sand.  Builds hives.  Never sleeps.  Lusts for a queen that doesn't exist, and never has.
6. Ghost carrier.  Filled with souls who have been promised safe passage to afterlife.
7. Light bringer.  Either enormous and covered with lanterns or sheds ghastly illumination.  (50% chance of each.)
8. Pharyngeal jaws.  Poisonous bite.
9. Overgrown with bone.  Spurs jut from shoulders, heels.  Intensely painful.  50% chance of being completely made.
10. Former human, grown into new and monstrous shape by Allechris of Marchane.  Mind as innocent as a child.
11. Can run at 3x speed.  Legs have burnt off.  Now runs through the air atop charred stumps.  Painful.  Steed is insanely homicidal, but kept in check by nursery rhymes.
12. COVERED IN SPIKES.
13. Sings dirges constantly.  Eyes weep black ichor that restores HP when drank but bestows mild, transient curses.
14. Breath attack like a slaughterhouse cesspool.  Bone shards and rotted filth. 30' cones.  Will also disgorge a miniature, undead horse every week which will follow (but not fight) until it disintegrates.  If steed is killed, miniature undead horses will devour it.
15. Never a horse to begin with.  Roll d4: 1 elephant, 2 rhino, 3 crocodile, 4 lion.
16. Winged.  Intelligent eyes.
17. Boneless.  Capable of both galloping and slithering.  Growls with inchoate mutters.  Cruel enough to attack bystanders--it enjoys cracking open their legs and sucking the sweet marrow from their bones.
18. Screaming human faces embedded on flanks.
19. Huge and pustulent.  Weepings sores bleed black milk to feed the troops.  Embedded armor plates infected near edges.
20. Crystalline intelligence.  Speaks with the voice of a multitude.  Vanishes during the daytime.

Agenda

1. Destroy all beauty / become the most beautiful of all.
2. Destroy all truth / dictate the truth.
3. Find an awesome spouse.
4. Quit this fucked up life and become an adventurer.
5. Turn Kel Dravonis into a war machine; bring war to the whole world.
6. Kill the king of Kel Dravonis.  Leave this fucking place.  Own an orchard.
7. Wealth, immortality, and power.
8. The destruction of another death knight.
9. The pierce the veil of death.  To know the world beyond.  To re-live the life before birth.
10. More minions, because this death knight is secretly a vampire.
11. Obesity.
12. To retire from service and care for beloved pet. (The king of Kel Dravonis has never ever allowed one of his knights to retire from service.)

d12 Effects of Eating Star Carrion

So there are megafauna that swim between the stars and sometimes they fall to earth like a giant meteor made of meat.  (There's a place in Centerra where this is the entire ecosystem.)  This is what happens after you eat too much star carrion.

Picture a whale washed up on the beach, half digested so as to become unrecognizable.  The softer flesh has been eaten off, the blubber is peeling off in sheets, and limbs have eroded into skeletal phalanges.

It's pretty similar, when a star carcass crashes down.  Like their cetacean analogues, they show signs of predation, and of digestion.  They also have burns from atmospheric reentry, and usually arrive hot enough that their surfaces are boiling.  Death occurs in degrees, and locally, so that some parts of the kilometer-long star beasts might still be twitching and sighing up to several days after braindeath.

Lazy expanses of languid flesh.  Flaccid pillars of eyes.  Dying tendrils hundreds of feet long, that spasm across the desert, overturning cacti and tripping approaching horses.  Corpsemouths yawning with twilit stardust, moaning with thousands of voices.  Scutes from gargantuan shells forming secondary craters a half mile away as they impact minutes later, torn off the star corpse during its final trauma.  Burning pools of blood, ignited as it passed through the fires of its descent.

What does it taste like?

1 - Ecstatic tremors and arpeggios of bliss
2 - Sickly sweet filth, the vomit of heavenly sewers, diabetic nightmares
3 - Crumbling and savory; venison jerky transformed by some geologic process
4 - Spidery, saccharine slivers that dash across your tongue and disappear into your brain
5 - Pungent orbs the split by color upon your tongue, then reform
6 - Vinegar strips like licorice coiling around your spine

One hour after the first time a person gorges themselves on star carrion, they have a 25% chance of vomiting up about 100 gallons of black paste studded with mica crystals.  After vomiting, they must make a save.  If they fail this save, roll a d12 on the table below to see what sort of outer weirdness they succumb to.

1 - Ravenous Gigantism.  PC needs 100 meals a day for the next 10 days, after which they have grown twice as tall.  Anything less will result in rapid starvation.  Henceforth, they will not starve, merely shrink.

2 - Intangibility to Metal.  You can no longer touch it.  It can no longer touch you.  Yes, this does allow you to walk through metal bars while naked.  Metal-tipped arrows deal their minimum damage to you.  Fully metal arrows pass right through you (but probably fuck up your clothes).  Etc.

3 - Can only eat fire.  Eating a torch (like an ice cream cone) takes 1 hour, and will sustain you for a day.  Eating normal food will cause you to vomit a substance that looks and tastes like sour milk, but is poisonous (save or die).

4 - Blood replaced with single, fractally divergent snake that immediately emerges from any wound and screams.

5 - Cosmic Understanding.  +1 Wisdom but can henceforth only speak in the howling sussurations of the stars.  Will never sleep again, but must spend 8 hours a night standing still, looking up at the stars.  Failure to do so is equivalent to getting no rest.

6 - Cosmic Attention.  Abducted by red lights or pungent smells (50% chance of each).  Returned after 1d20 days (on a roll of a 20, they are never returned).  Roll a d6.  1 - Mind replaced with otherworldly intelligence with strange goals.  2 - Skin replaced with neon-colored rubber.  3 - Permanently invisible when naked, but take fire damage from direct sunlight.  4 - Black hole eyes.  5 - Organs replaced with machinery, since this is just a machine-clone that believes it is the original.  6 - Organs replaced with fetuses.

7 - Birth of New Star Spawn.  Pregnancy lasts 3d6 hours.  Newborn star creature will grow to adulthood in another 3d6 minutes, and will be 1d20*100 feet long.  Make a reaction roll to see whether it will attack PCs or serve as their loyal mount.  Either way, it suddenly decides to head into space after 1d6 weeks.

8 - Weightlessness.  Will need heavy backpack to walk (poorly), or someone to pull you along like a balloon.

9 - Become window for external observer.  New eye opens up on forehead; attempts to comprehend it, speak to it, conceal it, or prevent it from seeing out will result in pain and HP damage.  If the PCs life is in danger, there is a 2-in-6 chance that the outside observer will take some action to preserve its agent, usually by exercising some weird, godlike power.

10 - Stark, raving madness.  Flies in the eyes.  (Preferably a tendency for autocannibalism during times of stress, but DM's choice, really).

11 - Mutation.  Roll on your favorite table.

12 - Cannibal Outsider.  Eyes become metal orbs, dull green and glassy.  Eating the flesh of intelligent beings heals you slightly and youthens you (down to your physical prime).  You get +2 to save against clerical magic, and all clerics + paladins (good and evil) will recognize you as something worth destroying.  Clerical magic will never work for you again.  After you have consumed the brains of 11 wizards, you will receive a revelation of your purpose, and where you can fulfill it.  You know the facts contained in this paragraph with utter certainty, although you now doubt everything else about the world, even your own name.

Silent Bell of St. Dorbaine and d12 Relics of the Church

Saint Dormaine helped found the early church and was later mutilated by the removal of his uvula and tongue, so that he would be unable to cast spells.  However, the saint was so precious in the divine eye, that he continued to speak, pray, and cast spells.

Even when he was struck down during a sermon, his head removed, and then burnt, the saint continues to speak without pause.  His melodic voice filled the chapel and inspired his followers.

He is the saint of evangelism in Hesaya.

In the Holy City of Coramont, there is a cathedral dedicated to him.  At the top of cathedral is a huge bell.  Like its namesake, this bell lacks a tongue, and so it is silent when rung.

Or at least, silent for most people.  Only the truly faithful can hear it.

It calls them to secret masses.  It strengthens them on secret holidays.  Sometimes it even rings when the rope is not pulled.

Sometimes the bell only rings for one person, or for a group.  Sometimes it even rings for blasphemers.  Sometimes it leads the faithful out of peril, and sometimes it condemns them.  Sometimes it even speaks with the voice of Saint Dormaine, and bestows prophecy.

d12 Relics of the Church
Magical abilities only function for clerics of the church.  Each relic is also worth an XP bonus when turned in to the church.  This XP bonus is shared by all members of the party.  All other part members enjoy sobering dreams of heaven and hell.

1 - Tongue of St. Dormaine, Speaker of The Truth
When this mace is rung against a shield, no speech is possible in 30' except that which is in praise of the Authority.  Demons of 1 HD or less must also save or silently bleed to death (from the ears) over 1d6 rounds.

2 - Hand of St. Gustau
This skeletal hand is held together with silver wire and boiled leather.  It grants telekinesis for 30', Strength 8.  Additionally, the bearer can choose to lose a hand instead of suffering the effects of a failed save.  The sacrificed hand instantly ascends to heaven, where it will await the cleric in the afterlife.

3 - Jaw of Ingvar, who defied The Tyrant
This fire-blackened jawbone trembles when in the presence of a dragon or large reptile.  It's bearer suffers no negative effects from being swallowed alive (suffocation, crushing, acid).  Additionally, all fire damage is reduced by 1 point per die.

4 - Liver of the Unknown Saint
When this liver is held in hand and prayers are continuously spoken, all poisons in the holder's body are postponed.  After each hour of continuous prayer, the holder may make an additional save against any ongoing poison.  While praying to the Unknown Saint, a small flame appears on the tip of the bandaged liver, like it was a lamp.

5 - Crucifix of St. Almahd
Anyone who is willingly crucified on this 10' crucifix drops to 0 HP and then must make 3 saves vs death.  The effect then varies depending on how many they succeed on.  If all three succeed, they get +1 Wisdom and permanent immunity to bleeding damage and blood magic.  If two succeed, they get +1 Wisdom.  If 1 succeeds, they get +1 Wisdom and -1 Con.  If all rolls fail, they die without chance of resurrection.

6 - Mummy of St. Iasumaya, the Lantern Atop The Tower
This leathery mummy is preserved by the natural oils and lacquers that the saint ate for the three years before his dehydration ceremony and subsequent living mummification.  It is sitting in the lotus pose.  Anyone who sits at the feet of the mummy and meditates is immune to the effects of starvation, dehydration, and aging for as long as they meditate.

Remember: you don't carry holy relics around in a SACK
you need a RELIQUARY

7 - Femur of St. Telluchus, who is called The Devoured
The bearer of this well-gnawed bone is worshipped and obeyed by dogs everywhere.  They can also turn wolves (in addition to undead).

8 - Ribs of St. Cavurha, the Great Martyr
The bearer of this shattered bag of ribs is immune to pain and torture.  The bearer deals double damage when bashing a skeleton with a bludgeoning weapon.

9 - Remains of St. Kurelda, who was immolated by witches
If the bearer of this bag of ashes dies from fire damage, they instead turn into an ash cloud with 1 HP (treat as gaseous form).  At the end of one minute, they reform, exactly as if gaseous form had expired (still with 1 HP).  Burning to death more than once per day is (obviously) traumatic and may require saves vs. psychology (morale penalty, insanity, whatever, depending on system).

10 - Skull of St. Grendelweiss, patron of moths
They say that the skull of St. Grendelweiss was transformed into quartz upon his death.  The bearer of this relic is aware whenever someone attempts to read their thoughts, memories, or dreams.  Additionally, they can spoof false thoughts/memories/dreams which the snooper now accesses.  Lastly, the bearer speaks constantly while asleep, monotonously chanting prayers and scriptures.  Attempts to muffle or hide their nocturnal proclamations will have negative effects.

11 - Heart of St. Carnelli, who fed the Companions
If any part's of the bearer's body are eaten, they will regrow overnight.  This applies to bite damage from hungry beasties, but it also applies to body parts that are used to feed teammates.  A character can feed himself and up to 3 others this way.

12 - Genitals of St. Olmado the Chaste
This mummified penis is contained in a leathery scrotum, held closed with a drawstring.  It is adorned with a single bead of lapis lazuli.  The bearer gets +4 to save against charm effects.  Additionally, anyone who kisses the relic gets an additional save against anything affecting their flesh that was caused by a failed save, or can be cured by a successful save.  (Such as demonic pregnancies or parasites.)

now this is a RELIQUARY

FIS (Feral Infant Syndrome)

Something spooked the horses.

There are two leading theories about Feral Infant Syndrome.  The first is that it is a type of lycanthropy, which only affects certain infants, and is brought on by the sickness that is always present in moonlight.  The second theory ascribes it to faeries and their ilk, and claims that after a faerie has stolen a baby away, it replaces it with a Feral Infant, which is the source of both fear and wonderment among honest men.

Feral Infants do not stay in their beds at night, but instead leap from their cribs and wander the streets.

Laying awake in your bed at night, was that a cat that you heard yowling underneath your window?  Something woke you up, but was it the neighbor's goat? You've never heard it cry like that before.  Didn't you close that window before you went to sleep?

Feral Infants are possessed of an agility and strength far beyond their daytime selves.  Newborns that are too weak to lift their heads are suddenly capable of scampering up a drainpipe.  It has been said that they fight like cornered weasels.

Their nocturnal activities are varied.  Sometimes they travel around singly.  Sometimes they travel in packs.  They break into houses, gorge themselves on cheese and milk, and despoil what they cannot eat.  Or chase down stray cats and kill them in dark alleyways.  If threatened, they will hiss and bite.  If seriously threatened, they prefer to disappear down storm drains and mouseholes (which they can do with a 4-in-6 chance).  Only rarely will they seek the death of someone.

Adventurers who notice the pink-skinned imps shitting in their rations and seek to strike them down would do well to remember that at the end of the day, these are someone's children.  Feral Infants that are killed (brought to 0 HP) have a bad habit (2-in-6 chance) of crawling back into their cribs before expiring.  And in most communities, the penalty for killing a feral infant is the same as for killing a normal one: death.

And in many communities that 'suffer' from packs of feral infants, there is a strong, native pride in them.  Why be ashamed of such vital, energetic youth?  In these communities, feral infants are seen as something worthy of pride.  Windows are left open and milk left on the sills.  Many people seek out rituals or herbs, in order to entice the same transformation in their newborn.

Of course, these communities rarely share this secret with outsiders.  Especially not paladins or witchhunters.

It is said that feral infants who grow to adulthood become dhampir, who seek shadow but do not know it.

No, that's not right.  Feral infants grow up to become sorcerers of fey blood, and have the scent of scentless forests.

Or they flee into the forests and become druids, or perhaps bugbears.

Lastly, it should be mentioned that people speak of some darker, overarching intent the bind the feral infants together.  They sometimes coordinate their actions when they have no method of communicating, or behave with intelligence or knowledge that they should not possess.  For example, a parent attempting to restrain their feral infant by locking it in a cage will usually be assaulted by the other feral infants in the city, who will attempt to free their fellow.

Feral infant activity peaks during the full moon, but they are invariably quiescent during the new.

How to Use This in your Game

Put it on the random urban encounter tables, obviously.

Feral babies don't need much lore, other than "Although they are feral babies who bite out the bottoms of your pockets, they are someone's babies and you probably can't just kill them the way you would kill a rabid dog."

They occupy the same monster-space as urban imps or gremlins.  Run around, break shit, kill pets, despoil food.  However, their logic is (maybe) a little more straightforward than an urban gremlin, plus they have the complication that people won't thank you for killing them.  Also, they're babies who hide in cupboards and throw knives at you.