Sunday, 16 July 2017

Wandering Necromancers and the City of the Dead

A History of Death
Necromancers have been around for a very long time. Almost as long as death itself. They are older than humans, and older than most of the gods. The very first necromancers arose from a race long forgotten, back when words had real power. Back when death was knew, and even more frightening than it is today.

Once upon a time, a young child asked their mother to get up. They sobbed as dirt fell, covering her corpse until it was six feet underground.

But as I said, words had power. The mother's body heard her child, even if the soul had long since departed. She dug her way up before nature even knew what was wrong.

Thus began the necromancers. Kings eternal over kingdoms undying.

Nowadays, most necromancers are Wanderers. You do get the odd extra-antisocial manic who wants to live in a dungeon and conquer the lands of the living, but they don't last long. Sometimes they starve to death, or their focus lapses and their creations eat them. Anything can happen.

There are also sometimes pirates or priests, but they're a different thing altogether. 
  Wanderers, although despised, looked down on, and ridiculed by many, are an integral and valuable part of society. Like retail workers, if they could run an entire store with the corpses of your ancestors and sheer force of will.

Necromancers, in those places out of the eye of the True God, or simply willing to bend some rules, provide labour, defence, or even entertainment, for a fee. Many of the more selfless ones even forgo the cost, doing good deeds for free.

The typical life of a Wanderer follows a simple pattern: Get to town with a group of undead, reanimate as many more as possible, work for a few weeks, get kicked out, repeat.

Of course, they often move on simply because the pay wasn't good, or because they got bored, but mages are notorious drama queens.

All schools of wizardry have a negative emotion that they suffer increasing amounts of, simply from casting their spells. Necromancers are lonely. They have the power at their fingertips to raise armies, bring the dead (partially) back, and turn enemies into friends, but they are lonely.

It's an ironic hell that they live in.

Most small towns were built by Wanderers, or at least started by them. When settlers came, the Wanderers paved the way. They built the first houses in the mountains, and gave the order to drag their own limp, dehydrated bodies across deserts to found sugar plantations.

Wanderers have a strained relationship with the Church of the True God. The Church's inclination to kill all necromancers other than themselves is conflicted with their desire to make life better for themselves and, to a lesser extent, their followers.

With the common folk, Wanderers are treated as an unpleasant necessity. Some towns are more welcoming than others, but the general respond to a Wanderer is 'here's some cash, do the job, and get out.'

Necromancers and ghouls generally fight, as both of them view corpses as a precious commodity. Both of them together, however, will often make a great team.

Necromancy. What is it?
Now: Necromancy is defined as:
Necromancy (/ˈnɛkrəˌmænsi, -r-/[1][2]) is a supposed practice of magic involving communication with the deceased – either by summoning their spirit as an apparition or raising them bodily – for the purpose of divination, imparting the means to foretell future events or discover hidden knowledge, to bring someone back from the dead, or to use the deceased as a weapon, as the term may sometimes be used in a more general sense to refer to black magic or witchcraft.[3][4]
 Now, for today, we're focusing on the 'Bodily part. The core of what a necromancer does. Turning a useless old sack of meat and stink into a helpful old sack of meat and stink. Sometimes this is slow, sometimes this is fast. Sometimes you need to call up the spirit of a fallen warrior to posses the body, sometimes you just need to tell the muscles that to do. It all depends.

In addition, the types of undead are exceedingly varied. You've got your typical zombies, skeletons, crawling claws... but then you have odder things. Skin kites, nailmen, organ-snakes... the list goes on. A sufficiently experienced necromancer should be able to make four or five functional undead from a single body.

Necromancy, at it's heart, is a complicated process. Everyone approaches it differently, and listing all the different methods possible is too large a project for this post.

The City of the Dead 
The City of the Dead is not quite a city. It's a library. Countless rooms, towers, and basements, each filled to the brim with books. It was made over the course of nearly a thousand years, and tended to by an army of undead. Although anyone is allowed to peruse it's endless halls, necromancers are the most frequent patrons.

It is guarded by the same army that cleans it, organizes the shelves, and carries candles for any mortal who wishes to read. The entire place is protected by wards, preventing fires, water, or removal of books.

Mages, the curious, and any who would add to the library's defences or knowledge are welcomed with open arms. No one owns the library, and nobody knows who originally created it, but it protects itself. It has endured the rise and fall of many empires, and catalogued them all.

Some mages have made their homes there, nestled in the crooks and crannies of shelves, seeking out the secrets of immortality, death, and ultimate power within the books. They are most often necromancers, as they can send their servants to fetch food and drink from the outside world.

Ghosts often frequent the halls, often simply to read, wiling away their afterlife on the pursuit of knowledge.

Thursday, 6 July 2017

The Children's Crusade

Four hundred years ago, the Children's crusade began, starting 'the Year of Nightmares.'

Like all the best wars, it started with romance. Babies started disappearing, vanished from their cribs in the middle of the night. Here and there, it happened at least once in each town. People began panicking, and couldn't find what was wrong, who was taking their children. Ghouls had taken them before, here and there, but it was rare. Mass kidnapping like this simply didn't happen.

The thieving of babies died down in a year or so, and people began to forget. All was quiet for about a decade, and then reports starting coming in from the east. Reports of monster children...

Ryan Yee, 'Blood Bairn' 

Investigations were sent, adventurers and soldier to investigate. The ones who managed to return spoke of fields of blood, with not a corpse in sight. The source became clear, and the dots were connected. The monster children were ghouls. But for what purpose was not known...

Ghoul children were an oddity. They did exist. They had to. But, they were rarely seen. They looked more human than their parents, unless they were feeding. They were generally cared for by their parents until they were old enough to strike out on their own. They rarely survived long on their own. Superhuman strength + a thirst for flesh + the emotions of a 10 year-old do not lead one to be very subtle.

Randis Albion, 'Spoiled' 

But not now. Adult ghouls had simply... vanished. Even those who had been outed, and lived off of corpses in relatively peaceful lives had disappeared.

An army was raised. Hundreds of knights on horseback rode out to face to coming horde. They stood, tall, proud, and only slightly shitting themselves as nearly a half-thousand blood-soaked children ran faster than any man up the hill to meet them. 

Photographer, 'Vampire Child' 

The knights had an advantage besides their superior weaponry and training. The ghouls, although hungry, were still children. The knights were large. When one of them was downed, he or she was swarmed, and devoured in less than a minute. The children, sated and no longer in a frenzy, would flee the battle. 

Some escaped. Most died. Just like that, the children's crusade was over. The mystery of where the adults went was never solved. The children were scared and confused. They told tales of waking alone in the night, watched by an enormous snake. They spoke of men made of blood, a grinning skull, and a field of corpses stretching from horizon to horizon. Blood-coloured skies flashing with red lightning, and stick-thin beasts striding through deserts of glass.

Several ghoul children were captured, and raised by an order of knights who paid homage to Gothos. They formed an elite crew of warriors known simply as 'the Crusaders' paying homage to the war they fought so long ago, for reasons they will never fully understand.

Darek Zabrocki, 'Twins of Maurer Estate.'

How Can I Use This? If you want to use to Children's crusade, here are some ideas for adapting it to your world or game: 
1. If you aren't using ghouls or something similar, try vampires. If you want to go for a terrifying mystery, make the ghouls into perfectly normal children, who suddenly grew unearthly strong and developed a taste for human flesh.
2. If you are playing an RPG, why not have the players take part in the groups of knights fighting in the crusade? Or, they could play the poor sods having to escort the captured child-ghouls to their new home, or even take care of them afterward. A ghoul PC could be the survivor of the children's crusade. If you want to get really weird, have the PCs play ghoul children leading up to the crusade itself.

An explanation: I'm sorry about my long absence from writing this blog, I've been very busy with writing, designing version 2 of Lint, and personal matters. I'll try and update it more frequently, and a guest author may make a post or two in the following months. Stay tuned!

Sunday, 30 April 2017

Lint RPG: Basic Rules and Ability scores

The Rolling System
Most of this game operates off of a very simple system: whenever you want to do something, you roll 1d20, and try and get below a target number. If you get below, you succeed.

John is a new adventurer, and he is a little stronger than average. John has 11 Strength. His GM says ‘John, roll a Strength check to break down the door.’

John rolls 1d20. If he gets 11 or less, he manages to break down the door. 12 or higher means he fails.

However, if his GM decided the door was reinforced, then he might say ‘John, roll a Strength check with -3.’

This means, for the purposes of breaking down this door, John treats his Strength as 3 lower, in this case, he has to roll 8 or lower to break down the door.

And that’s it. Except for any special abilities or damage rolls, you just are rolling a d20, and hoping you get low.

Ability Scores
Ability scores are your baseline for pretty much everything you do. They are how smart your character is, how tough, how quick-witted, everything.

When determining your ability scores, you roll 4d4 for each one, in order. After you have rolled each ability score, you can choose to either switch two of your scores around, or reroll 1 score. If at least 5 of your scores are 8 or lower, and you have no score of 12 or higher, you may reroll all your scores.

You also have an ability score modifier, which adds to some of your secondary stats or damage rolls. It is equal to: your ability score divided by 3 - 3, rounded down (for example, 11 divided by 3 is 3 when rounded down, -3 is 0. 12 divided by 3 is 4, -3 is 1). Modifiers can be negative.

Certain races might have a + or - to an ability score. If you have a + to an ability score, you roll 5d4 for that score, and use the 4 highest dice. If you have a - to an ability score, you do the same, but use the 4 lowest dice.

When you level up, you can increase ability scores. Choose 1 ability score, and the rest of your group chooses another that they think makes sense for your character, in secret. After that, roll 3d6 for each score. If the resulting number is greater than the ability score, the ability score increases by 1. Unless otherwise stated, an ability score can never be higher than 18.

Score Descriptions
Agility. This is how quick and stealthy your character is, as well as their overall ninjaness. It is rolled when you try to do something like pick a pocket or land on your feet. It determines your defence, stealth, and speed, as well as your attack and damage with ranged and light weapons.
Charisma. This is how approachable, attractive, and persuasive your character is, as well as their ability to lie and sense of conviction. It is rolled during some social interactions, or sometimes when trying to tame animals. It determines your conviction.
Composure. This is how calm, collected, and stoic your character is, as well as their morale. It is rolled when you are resisting a fear attack, keeping your nerve against overwhelming odds, or resisting torture. It determines your sanity.
Endurance. This is how tough your character is, and how much they can take before breaking. It is rolled when you are crossing a desert on little water, trying to stay awake for long periods of time, or trying to not die. It determines your health.
Intelligence. This is how book-smart your character is, and how good their memory handles information. It is rolled when trying to solve a puzzle, build some architecture, or remember a monster’s weakness. It determines your skills, as well as how fast they increase.
Luck. This is how lucky your character is, and how much plot-armour they have. It is rolled for things your character’s skills and abilities wouldn’t matter against, such as who the avalanche decides to fall towards (although then you could make a check to avoid the avalanche). It determines your luck points.
Strength. This is how strong your character is, and how much force they can bring to bear. It is rolled when you want to muscle your way through a crowd, or bash someone over the head. It determines your encumbrance, as well as your attack and damage with melee weapons.
Wisdom. This is your character’s perceptiveness and insight, as well as their sense for nature. It is rolled when you want to forage for food or be certain if someone is lying to you or not. It determines your perception.
Wits. This is your character’s quickness of mind, as well as how fast they are to react to a situation. It is rolled when you need to solve a problem quickly (and intelligence to see if you actually can), or when improvising. It determines your initiative, as well as your attack and damage during surprise rounds.

Vital Statistics
Vital Statistics are special things you roll in certain situations, or resources that deplete over a period of time. Some classes will increase Vital Statistics.

Attack. You attempt to roll under this when you are attacking an opponent, if you succeed, your attack hits. It starts at 10, and increases by 1 at even-numbered levels, up to a maximum of 15. In addition, if you are using a weapon, you may also add your relevant ability score (usually either agility, strength, or wits) to the number, up to a maximum of 18. When attacking an opponent with a bonus to defence, you reduce your attack by that number (if the number is negative, you increase your attack).

Defence. You attempt to roll under this when an opponent is attacking you, if you succeed, the opponent misses. It is 10+your agility modifier (this means it can be lower than 10 with a negative modifier). Wearing armour can increase it by up to +6 (depending on the armour), while using a shield increases it by +1. It has a maximum of 18.

Health. This is a number that is reduced whenever you get hit by an attack or other hazard. It is equal to ⅓ your Endurance. At level 2, it increases to ½ your Endurance. At level 3, it increases to your Endurance. Every level thereafter, it increases by 1.
If you are ever reduced to 0 health, or hit while at 0 health, or end your turn at 0 health, you must make an Endurance check. If you fail, you fall unconscious. While unconscious, you must make an Endurance check every round. If you fail the Endurance check, you die after 1d4 rounds. For +1 Endurance modifier you have, increase the dice by 1 (1d6 at +1, 1d8 at +2, 1d10 at +3, and 1d12 at +4). It is an Intelligence or Wisdom check, with a penalty equal to the number of rounds you have been dying, with a healer’s kit, to save someone. If you succeed the Endurance check, you are instead unconscious for the next 1d12 hours, after which you regain 1 hit point. You regain 1d6+your level of them with a 1 hour lunch, and all of them with an 8 hour sleep.

Sanity. This is a number that is reduced whenever you see something that could make you go crazy.  It is equal to ⅓ your Composure. At level 2, it increases to ½ your Composure. At level 3, it increases to your Composure. Every level thereafter, it increases by 1.
If you are ever reduced to 0 sanity, you suffer a madness, which could be permanent or temporary. You regain 1 with an 8 hour sleep, but only while you are not in a stressful situation (such as dungeon delving).

Luck Points. These are points you can spend to make things go your way. You have Luck points equal to your luck modifier, and gain another one at level 4, and every level thereafter. At any time, you can expend any amount of luck points to increase or decrease the result of any roll by the amount of luck points you spend. You regain all of them with an 8 hour sleep.

Conviction. These are points you can spend to be more successful doing things you are passionate about. Choose 1-3 goals (for example, Tim the paladin chooses ‘kill all demons,’ and ‘save all innocents’). They should not be something like ‘get all the gold.’
You have Conviction equal to your Charisma modifier +1, and gain another at every level divisible by 3 (3, 6, and 9). At any time, you can expend a Conviction to get +1d6 to a roll related to your goal.
If you are ever at 0 hit points, but attempting to fulfill your goal (and could within the next few minutes), you can choose to lose all your Conviction. Roll 1d6 for each Conviction spent. The new number is your new maximum hit points and current hit points. After your goal is fulfilled, or after 30 minutes, your maximum hit points go back to normal and your current hit points go to 0. 

Initiative. This is what you try to roll under at the beginning of combat. It is equal to your Wits. If you roll under it, you get to go before your opponents. If you roll above, you go after.

Stealth. This is what you roll when trying to hide from people. It is equal to 5+your Agility modifier. If nobody is actively watching for you (sleeping guard, someone walking down a busy street), you may double your Stealth.

Perception. This is what the GM rolls for you when you try to notice sneaking enemies. It is equal to your Wisdom, or half your Wisdom if you are sleeping or not actively watching for opponents.

Speed. This is what you roll when trying to run away, or whenever you need to outrun someone. It is equal to 10+your Agility modifier.

Save. This is what you roll under when trying to avoid something bad or magical coming your way. It is equal to 5+your level. In addition, if the activity would depend on an ability score (avoid the falling boulder), you may add your modifier for that ability score.

Encumbrance. This is how much stuff you can carry without moving slowly. It is equal to 3+your Strength.

Saturday, 29 April 2017

The Not-Mice

They live in the dark cupboards, the cracks between the walls, and under your bed. They eat your food, and you don't see them. Your cat dies after catching a mouse, and you never suspect it might have been poisoned.

Your children complain of small hands skittering over them at night, and you dismiss it as the foolish thoughts of a child.

They come for you in the middle of the night, with poisoned needles and feral grins, and you finally believe.

Cinderella 1950, courtesy of Disney
"No! It's my turn to stab them!"

Nobody knows where the not-mice game from, nobody knows what they want. Anyone who tries to determine their inscrutable goals is found dead soon after.

They are susceptible to the same weaknesses as normal mice, but are far more cunning. Your cat may need to have a protective spell cast on it. They must see you eat the cheese you poisoned before they trust it. Mousetraps must be cleverly disguised.

They are evil and cunning incarnate.

HD 0 Defence +6 Attack Needle 0+poison 1d6
Speed 11 Int 10 Save 5 Stealth 10
Critical Hold. A not-mouse, if they succeed on a combat maneuver at -4, can crawl onto a critical location on their opponent's body. While there, they can attack at any time, automatically hitting and dealing +1d6 damage with their needle.

Saturday, 22 April 2017

The Races of Lint

You don't need a description of these guys. Unless you are one of my stranger readers, you probably have cursory knowledge of them. But, there is something I do want to talk about.
I want to talk about the ever present horror in any fantasy or sci-fi setting with non-human races: 'What makes humans special?'

The common answers are 'jack of all trades,' 'anti-magic,' or sometimes 'virility' (this is less common, because of goblins and orcs). In Lint, humans are certainly jack of all trades characters, but Embraced can literally transfer any knowledge they share between them in a matter of moments. They are not anti-magic at all, and might even be more susceptible to it than other creatures. As for virility, while they do have the more children than other races, and in a faster time. However, I think it's a bit of a cop-out, and if I ever want people to let their children read my stuff, I can't have the most interesting bit about humans be how much they have sex, can I?

So what did I want it to be? I finally decided on Religion and Community.

Other races don't really have gods. They don't become gods, they don't worship them, they don't bother with them. To the non-humans, gods are just very, very powerful beings, deserving of respect but not worship. Since gods want to be worshiped, this means that they generally favour humans.

This doesn't mean that the odd non-human will not become follower of a god they like. However, they may be one of a dozen or less of their species who chooses to worship that particular god. For less known gods, they may be the only one of their species.

Community is pretty self-explanatory. Other races are generally solitary or come together in small groups, nothing near like what humans create. We are very social creatures, which is possibly our biggest strength, and what allows us to survive in the world without the advantages of all other creatures.

The most common mistake anyone makes about ghouls is that they are undead. They aren't, although they like to cultivate that image, to provoke fear.

Ghouls were originally humans, thousands of years ago. In fact, they were the original worshipers of Child Eater, long before she became the wife of Gothos. They were the ones who named her, after the name their enemies gave their warriors.

They were a cannibalistic tribe, eating all those that they killed. Degenerate man-eaters, soon to be extinguished by their opponents. Child eater made them something more.

Some called it a blessed curse, others a cursed blessing. Whatever the cause, the cannibals became warped, and strange. They became ghouls.

Ghouls have a body shape that is identical to a humans most of the time. However, under close scrutiny, or when the ghoul is hungry, changes become apparent. They have sharp, vicious-looking claws and teeth, perfect for grappling a foe and rending them limb from limb. Their insides are some of their strangest parts: a ghoul's organs are alien, all in the wrong places; someone using knowledge of human vital spots will find ghouls much harder to put down. In addition, their stomachs are suited for an entirely cannibalistic diet, where they can consume nearly an entire human being without noticeably gaining much body mass.

 Josu Hernaiz, 'Hunted Ghoul'
Ghouls are, when fed, witty, friendly, and have great senses of humour (although some find it a little morbid for their tastes). They are rarely suspected by even the most diligent of men. If you are close enough to a ghoul to know it, you are most certainly within range of their teeth.

However, when hungry or hunting, ghouls are the stuff of nightmares, like fast moving shadows with glowing eyes and sharp fangs. Their bodes warp and bones reshape, letting them scale walls like spiders, or leap between buildings with ease. Combine this with their unnatural endurance, they are nearly impossible to outrun. Their claws and teeth combined with great Strength makes them nearly impossible to outfight if unarmed.

They are perfect hunters of unsuspecting humans.
 Anna Steinbauer, 'Falkenrath Gorger' 
Ghouls don't have a society like we think of it, or even a clandestine network of communication, like some particularly paranoid humans expect (although, when there are man-eating monsters hiding among your colleagues and friends, most would say the paranoia is justified, but as they say, ignorance is bliss). They operate more like tigers, or other solitary animals. 'You stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours. You let me share your meal, I'll return the favour.'

Being obese in ghoul society is something to respect. A ghoul has to be an accomplished hunter and manipulator to even be able to get fat in the first place, and maintaining the fat is even more difficult, as now they have to hunt with a hundred or so extra pounds of flesh weighing them down.

Ghoul children can only be born if the mother of the pair eats a human baby before conception. The pregnancy is generally very quick, lasting less than a month. The children, although they do resemble their parents, will grow up to look very much like the child they would have been (there has been at least one case of someone meeting their ghoul 'clone,' who was a twin stolen at infancy).

They live quite a long time, and the average ghoul lifespan (not including violent deaths) is a little over a hundred years old.

Not all ghouls are the evil and remorseless beings that one would usually expect from a species that needs to consume other sentient creatures on a near-biweekly basis. Some of them are truly remorseful, or pay off gravediggers to get them their meals. Many become soldiers, although they rarely last long, due to the lack of privacy allowed in the army, especially around the recently dead.

There are records of ghoul assassins, who charge extra for their services, but can make a person disappear fantastically well. 

Ill-don, also called 'the eel-men' or 'mermaids' by sailors, are a progenitor race older than humans. They bear a strict resemblance to eels, with slippery (and often black) skin, long tails, and thin fins running down the top and bottoms of their bodies.

Ill-don are solitary creatures. They live in shallow-sea caverns or rivers, dependent on their surroundings for survival. They hunt with rocks and flint daggers.

However, some Ill-don become tired of the solitary, hunter-gatherer life. They come into contact with humans, offering their services as guides, navigators, or treasure-hunters.
 fuuryoku, 'Mermaid'

A long time ago, the Ill-don had a great oceanic empire, stretching from shore to shore. Ocean travel was impossible for nearly every other creature in the world, preventing any sort of trade or exploration for hundreds of years. There were ocean wars, which the Ill-don won every time.

Hundreds of men and women were captured on floating mounds of hollow bones, built into floating prisons. The Ill-don barely had to do anything, just chain the barge to the ocean floor, and throw fish up on a daily basis. Any dead were dumped over the side, and escapees were welcome to try. There are very few records of anyone escaping an Ill-don bone-barge.

However, like all great empires, it could not last. Nobody knows exactly what happened to it; slave rebellions, civil war, a great beast beneath the sea... Whatever the cause, the Ill-don rule of the ocean was gone for good. It's members scattered across the sea, hiding themselves away unless they were called by another of their kind.

  Erica Batton, 'Eel mermaid' 
They are quite friendly beings nowadays. They have mostly forgotten about their empire, and it lies rotting somewhere on the ocean floor, just a few mad zealots still residing there.

The Ill-don have eyes that are not well-suited to the darkness they live in, and so rely mainly on touch to work their ways around their caves. They hunt by snapping out and catching prey in their hands, before bringing it to their mouth. A second pair of jaws reaches up from the inside of their throat, takes hold of the fish or crustacean, and it is ground down and swallowed. They are strictly carnivores. Their language sounds like the screaming eels from the princess bride.

Pine Men
Far, far to the north, where the Utakita tribes roam and the Nosi hunt and ancient beasts sleep in glaciers that touch the sky, live the Pine Men. 

They speak in the language of the great trees that create an enormous boreal forest up north, a strange tongue that sounds like wind and creaking branches.

They hunt all who come into their lands, driving off anyone curious or foolish enough to come looking for them. Some leave to discover more about the world, but almost all of them are exiles, for crimes that we do not understand.

Physically, a pine man is made of a thick, sticky, sap-like substance, overlaid and surrounding bones and skin of bark. Their eyes appear to be made of a similar substance to the veins in a tree leaf, overlapping into a rough orb shape. Their brains, when dissected, look like a multitude of pine needles slotted into specific spots in a hole-filled head.

They are about the same height and build of a large human, but are warped. They look like someone tried to sculpt a human while only ever having seen them in armour. Their limbs are overlapping bits of bark and wood, held together by flexible 'tendons.'

They are created with a ritual performed by a pine man druid, where a specially prepared head is made, inserted with pine needles, and buried underneath a sapling. Throughout the next several years, the sapling will grow into the shape of a pine man, before uprooting itself and setting off to find it's tribe.

Anyone who makes a joke about
them being 'pine men' gets slapped.

They are very hostile to visitors, and even the Church of the True God, usually so stubborn in spreading word of their god, gave up on the pine men.

When out in the world, they speak of a city beneath a glacier, a place warm enough for plants to grow freely and happily, forever. They say this is their paradise, given to them by the great spirit of the north. Why they do not live there remains a mystery, and they guard their clan secrets with undying devotion.

Pine men so rarely see the sun up where they live, and so are constantly amazed by sunrises and sunsets, which they often wake early to watch. 

Stats. +Strength, +Endurance, -Luck
Cannibal. You eat people, and must continue to do so to survive. If you have not eaten a human corpse since your last full night’s rest, you regain no hit points on your next rest. However, if you spend 1 minute devouring a creature, you gain the benefits of a lunch (regain 1d6+level hit points).
Feared, for Good Reason. Most humanoid creatures will attack you on sight, unless you take measures to disguise yourself (hooded cowl, mask, lots of disguises), or have eaten in the last two days. However, you have natural claws and teeth attacks, which deal 1d6+Strength modifier damage, and you can jump twice as far. You also get +4 on checks to climb.
Mechanics Discussion
Cannibal is a weird trait in play. It makes corpses into a sort of health currency, allowing the ghoul to heal themselves quickly (although only twice/day, because of the lunch rules), but also meaning if you don't get your corpses, you don't get to heal. However, this could lead to an interesting scenario where the other PCs are wanting to rest, but the ghoul needs to keep going so they can eat something.
   Ghouls are a bit bad for positive social interaction unless they have eaten, so might take the backseat quite a bit. Their low luck represents the godly intervention making the world actively work against them.

Aquatic. You can breath underwater and in air. Due to your eel-like skin and tail, you are suited for swimming, and can do so at your speed. However, you have trouble navigating on land. While not swimming, halve your speed. You can use your arms to push yourself along the ground quickly at a run, moving at normal speed, but you cannot have anything in your hands while you do this.
Eel-like. You are mostly boneless, and so can squeeze through small spaces no less than 6 inches in diameter. In addition, your strong jaws allow you to bite your opponents, dealing 1d6 damage, with no penalties for attacking underwater. If you use your tail while grappling someone (lose ability to move except for crawling), you get a +2 bonus to the maneuver.
Mechanics Discussion
Ill-don are perfectly made for nautical campaigns. They can swim well, and even grapple enemy soldiers and drag them into the water, drowning them quickly. In campaigns where they never go near the land, they will slow the party down (note: not hold them up, they are just as effective in combat as any other character. Slow them down, literally making travel times longer). However, in dungeons and caves, where keeping creatures immobilized or squeezing through small cracks is important, Ill-don are second to none.  In an ocean going game, they are perfect. A party of Ill-don fighting against humans or the Drowned One's minions could also make for a fun game.

Pine Men
Stats. +Strength, +Endurance, -Wits, -Intelligence, -Charisma
Treeskin. While unarmoured or wearing light armour, you get a +1 bonus to defence due to your tough skin. In addition, whenever you take cold damage, reduce the damage by your level. You can speak to pine trees all the time as though you had cast the speak with plants spell. This takes five times longer than normal conversation, because trees are slow talkers, and don't understand you unless you talk slow as well.
Mechanics Discussion
Pine men are not very good social characters, due to their low charisma and intelligence. However, they are excellent survivalists, with more endurance and cold resistance than humans and the ability to get information from trees. They are good warriors, but due to their low wits, take a little bit longer than other creatures to react in combat.

Sunday, 16 April 2017

The Eldritch Truth About Humans

Humans and the Ascended
Imagine a baby bird. Featherless, unable to fly, confined to a little stick structure, being fed caterpillars on an hourly basis.

This is a human. This is their whole life, from the moment of their birth up to their death.

Imagine an adult bird. Now fully grown, it can see the world. It can fly, it can love, it can sing. But with this comes new needs. The need to build a nest of your own. The need to find your own food, find a mate, avoid predators, and everything else the new freedoms require.

This is what happens to a human after death. They become something more, something other.

And sometimes, they come back to the nest where they were born. We call these former humans 'the Ascended.'

When in this world, it is hard to describe them. Sometimes they take forms we are comfortable with, sometimes they are invisible. Most of the time, seeing one is like looking at a humanoid kaleidoscope while on acid. Hearing one speak is the same, but for your ears. Fighting them is like trying to beat up the kaleidoscope with a kinda pointy feather, while also attempting to keep your footing because oh my god the floor is actually a rosebush!!!!

Simply put, they're really fucking weird.*

*Like everything else in this goddamn shitshow of a world.

 However, unlike most things on Lint, the Ascended have a bright side. They generally have our best interests at heart.

But of course, every rainbow has it's potential flood. To continue the bird metaphor, sometimes a chick needs to be pushed out of the nest for it to try to fly. The chance of a person becoming an Ascended is much higher if an Ascended kills them, and so, since most of them love humans so much, they want them to experience this new, beautiful world, even if it means they have to prematurely leave the old one.

This of course also comes with the risk of the baby bird dying as their wings aren't fully developed to stop them from going splat on the forest floor. Without using metaphors, this means that the person will fall into a crack in the world, landing in an everlasting plane of torment that they do not even understand.

But the Ascended didn't mean to do it. It just happened. It's your fault for not being able to keep yourself aloft, and they shouldn't have to feel bad about it.

Some of them understand that humans generally don't want to die, so they respect their wishes. Most don't care. They'll get this bird to leave the nest, no matter what.

If it weren't for gods, the Ascended would certainly be worshiped as divine beings. Instead, they are feared and loved at the same time. And, like the old gods, they are unpredictable. An Ascended might save a city from destruction from an Eldritch abomination, only to turn and kill every person with red hair in that same city. It is not malice, or anger, it is ignorance and love.

Ascended have multitudes of abilities, most of them are stupidly physics-defying. They speak underwater, or pull the stars from the sky and chuck them at people like little death-pebbles. They disguise themselves as humans and live among them as a beggar for a hundred thousand years, before deciding to go back home on a whim.

They split the time stream and ask you a question, then rewind and ask you a different one. Maybe they get bored and see how easily your skin breaks, or give you a magic sword. Then they ask you more questions, rewind, and repeat. By the end of a conversation with an Ascended, they will know everything about you. Or they'll choose to not know anything about you, and keep rewinding the same moment until you get the message, trapping the two of you in a time loop for as long as they feel like.

Luckily, they aren't very common.

Of course, there are the predators. The weasel than climbs into the tree and eats all the baby birds. They generally aren't so friendly. They are the 'Others.'

The Others are big, sneaky, and really dangerous. Trying to fight one is like a baby bird trying to attack a weasel. You don't fight, you just die. And of course, a dead baby bird is never going to fly. They'll never have their feathers, never get to see their world. They'll just be gunk inside the weasel's stomach.

Luckily, these eldritch abominations never stay in the world for long. They have better things to do, they just like the easy treats that they get here. It is unknown how they come to be, or their motivations.

 An interdimensional 'weasel.'

There are those who can fight them, warriors who prepare their whole lives to protect their village or city from an Other. They almost always die, but the point wasn't to survive. It was for everyone else to survive. Often, they are forgotten as they rot in the wounded being's body, their connection to the rest of the world severed, and all memory of their existence gone.

It eats away at people, thinking about what they could have lost to the Others. They could have been kings, before their kingdom was devoured. The boy born without a leg might have only lost it a few minutes ago, and no one remembers...

There are no records of devastating attacks by Others. People might remember it happening, but the paper and ink do not. The Ascended, those not-quite-dead humans, are the only ones who can keep proper records. And they rarely concern themselves with the needs of the erased.

I'm not going to provide stats for these things, cause each one is unique and too weird for stat blocks.