Graceful Strike
The large behemoth lurched around the corridor and into full view. Drool ran from a slack jaw, merciless eyes burned with hatred, the beast held a club high in the air and charged forward growling.
Chalk threw a spell at the creature which caused it to stumble, Koram ran at the monster with his crystal sword held high, Gnybaro drew his short sword and hesitated for a moment.
The beast eluded Koram’s strike and roared, flinging the fighter up against a dungeon wall, the human landed dazed.
“Wait a moment,” Valance said and tapped the blade of Gnybaro’s blade.
With a grim smile the thief turned towards the ogre. The creature raised its spiked club high again for a destructive blow. Gnybaro braced himself and struck, hitting the creature square in the gut, surprising both the ogre and himself.
Chalk threw another spell at the monster, this one wrapping it in tendrils of dark sorcery. Gnybaro swung again, this time hitting the thick muscles of the monster’s neck.
Eyes rolling, the ogre sank to the ground and died noisily.
Koram regained his composure and nodded approvingly upon seeing the defeated ogre.
“Not bad, Gnyb. When you can take down an ogre with one strike, then you will be a force to be reckoned with,” the fighter said.
“Wait, when have you ever killed an ogre with one strike?” Chalk asked.
“Let’s see, back at Xalagore, there was that gang of ogre brigands…” Koram began.
“That we avoided and ran from,” Chalk added.
“Oh, yeah,” the fighter said, a little dejected.
Graceful Strike (Divine)
Divine Level 4
Range: Touch
Duration: Two days
Priests and clerics cast this spell on the weapons of warriors to aid them in battles or skirmishes. Anyone enchanted by this spell rolls a 1d4. For the next three days this will be the bonus to strike in combat, regardless of any bonus that the weapon or character already has, which makes it a gamble for those already with a magical boon, but a sure thing for those without any magical backup to strike an opponent. One large weapon, three dagger sized weapons or a quiver of arrows may be enchanted with this spell. After two days time the affected weapons will revert back to normal.
from → Uncategorized
Touch of Rust
“We know Mavnor,” Chalk told the Elder Oakmaster a bit nervously.
“You don’t really seem the sort that the esteemed Mavnor would be seen with,” the aged druid replied.
Chalk took a moment to ponder that. Was there another druid named Mavnor?
“Enough bantering,” Koram shouted, “just let us pass through the forest already!”
The Elder Oakmaster turned and regarded the fighter. Smiling, he calmly placed a hand on Koram’s shoulder. Before the fighter knew what was happening his armor began to rust away. Horrified, Koram stepped back, but it was too late, the corrosion had taken over, eating all of the metal he carried or wore except the hilt of his crystal sword.
“Maybe we can just go around the forest, Elder Oakmaster,” Chalk said, more nervous than before.
“A very wise decision,” the druid said sternly.
“Could you maybe spare something to help cover my friend a little more?” Chalk said, indicating a very mostly bare and quite shocked Koram.
“Easily done,” the Elder Oakmaster said and sent one of the younger druids off to fetch a set of earth toned robes.
Touch of Rust (Druid)
Level 2
Range: Touch
Duration: Effects are permanent, yet see below
This corrosive spell allows a druid, with but a mere touch, to cause any ferrous metal to be eaten away, reduced to nothing but rust. Armor, weapons, walls, all may be dissolved by the druid, who can affect roughly 250 lbs of metal per level with this spell. Any magic items made of metal are allowed a resistance, based on percentile die as follows: minor magic items have a 25% chance of resisting the destructive effects of this spell, more powerful items have a 50% chance to resist the corrosion of this magic and greater magic items have an 80% chance to survive the destructive influence of this spell. Anything rusted away by this spell may only be restored by a Wish or Limited Wish spell, otherwise it is lost forever.
from → Uncategorized
Tremmi Ylmkies
“He’s been sitting there like that for days,” Graff said, pointing a thumb at a scruffy looking drunkard.
“Great, we are gone for a few weeks and already somebody has taken up residence in the Lazy Lamia,” Chalk said with a smirk, looking at the oddball inn patron. The man sneered at the wizard.
“Should I teach him a lesson?” asked Koram, who was getting a bit huffy.
“No. His gold is good and he has a lot of it,” the innkeeper said, putting a hand on the fighter’s arm to restrain him.
“Our gold is good!” Koram objected.
“Well, when we have it,” Chalk admitted.
The unkempt man sitting by the fire picked up an ornate lute and strummed the strings. Waves of magic, unseen by all but Chalk, emanated from the instrument, producing a calming effect.
“Maybe we will just sit at our usual table and have a hot meal,” Koram said as if in a daze.
“Sounds splendid, I am famished!” Gnybaro said dreamily.
“Me too!” Valance added with a warm smile on his face.
“Me three!” Ghervule said as she jockeyed for a good chair.
Chalk eyed the minstrel but said nothing. He knew now that the man was more than he seemed, and it was probably wiser to just keep quiet. He sat quietly.
After a few minutes of playing the lute the derelict sat the instrument down and turned to stare quietly into the fire.
Tremmi Ylmkies
Greater Deity
Tremmi Ylmkies, The Deranged Minstrel
Alignment: Neutral (with Chaotic tendencies)
Spheres of Influence: Music, Intoxication, Overindulgence
Symbol: Two crossed lutes or mandolins
Typical Worshipers: Those who party too much, musicians, rebels
Hit Points (if you need them): 225
Tremmi Ylmkies is one of those odd gods that is best left alone. However, he seeks the company of people constantly. The Deranged Minstrel is the ultimate bard, banging out strange, sometimes lewd, usually aggressive songs and ballads. Tremmi looks like an unwashed human vagabond, with long hair and muttonchop sideburns, the kind of person that is often shooed away from respectable businesses with the business end of a broom. He will even laughingly indulge such abuses most of the time, especially when it is at the hands of well meaning folk. Resenting authority and snobs, being tossed out of respectable establishments usually causes some misfortune to befall the business.
When war calls and the cause is near and dear to his heart, Tremmi will be on the front line, inspiring the troops with song and sword, roaring headlong into the enemy.
Abilities: Can use any seven Cleric or Magic-User spells up to three times per day as a 12th level priest or wizard respectively, focusing on illusions, deceptions destructive magic when in battle. The Deranged Minstrel fights as a 15th level Fighter, striking with a magical broadsword that is +2 to strike and does 2d12 damage. Tremmi also carries an enchanted lute that he can use to Mass Charm (50 foot radius, -3 to resist) up to 30 HD worth of people or monsters, Cause Antipathy/Sympathy (as per the spell, duration is 15 turns, range is 50 feet) or Heal Critical Wounds (as per the spell) and can cause 1d12 damage if use as a club and is magically hardened to be as tough as steel.
Awe: At first, Tremmi Ylmkies appears to be a bit of an unwashed slouch, hardly awe-inspiring. When revealed as a deity, especially when he is enraged, mortals are -2 to strike him in combat.
Honor Guard: The Deranged Minstrel normally walks alone, traveling the land and doing his thing. From time to time Tremmi will join a group of bards or minstrels for the fun of it, some of these musicians become clerics of the deity in time. Or they become disgusted and break away when the coast is clear.
from → Uncategorized
Elemental Seeds
“It’s cold!” complained Koram, shivering in the arctic air. The cave provided shelter, but little warmth.
“Start a fire then,” Chalk grumbled.
“On bare stone?” asked the fighter.
“Yes,” the wizard replied, pulling a metal vial from his robes and tossing it at the fighter, “use one, just one, of these.”
Koram carefully shook one of the small things into his hand. It was a dark red stone, quite small, smaller than the fighter’s thumb. He held the thing in his hands for a few moments and then dropped it before the two adventurers on the cold rock floor. A small fire grew from the stone and Chalk and Koram warmed themselves by the blaze.
“Why didn’t we use these before?” Koram asked.
“Because we don’t have too many of these and they might come in handy as currency in the wilder places, where we are headed,” Chalk replied, staring into the arcane fire.
Rare, but useful, Elemental Seeds are the fallout from certain greater elemental spells, gifts from elemental creatures to those that they trust, or the remains of certain defeated elementals. Carefully gathered and keep safe (as in glass or metal vials). Many druids are well versed in the use of these magic items, which makes life in harsh conditions easier for them. Composed of true elements (Air, Earth, Fire and Water) these small nuggets are activated with a few moments of handling, and can be used for minor effects, like starting a fire, providing a few cups of water, providing a rock or small patch or earth and causing a slight breeze to blowing, stirring dust). While the Elemental Seeds do not do anything too dramatic, they are handy in a pinch. Each of these magic items is about the size of a robin’s egg, but they can produce up to one cubic gallon of breathable air, fire, water or earth/rock).
Benefit: Can be used to aid in a variety of small tasks that require a bit of fire, air, water or earth. Easy to carry around and inert as long as they aren’t handled too much. Contact with a living creature for a couple of minutes will activate these small items and then the element can be directed by the one who handled the Elemental Seed. Duration is roughly four hours after which time the element will dissipate.Usable by: Anyone.
from → Uncategorized
Potion of Lycathropic Spirit
“Say Chalk…,” Koram said.
“Yeah, Koram?” the wizard replied.
“How often do you see a boar, a bear and a tiger walking together?” the fighter inquired.
“Never. Why do you ask?” Chalk said, a bit perplexed.
“Because I see a boar, a bear and a tiger walking down the trail over yonder,” Koram said, pointing to the southwest.
“Let’s get out of here and warn the others, there is some deviltry afoot when you see something like that!” Chalk exclaimed.
“I told you we needed the same type of potion, we spooked them with these different animal forms,” Stork replied in spirit boar form.
“Well, we bought what the Varzinian Alchemist had in stock,” Vistis the Blue Mage said, obviously irritated.
“We won’t get fleas this way, will we?” asked a spirit tiger Bafalk the Brave, a bit concerned.
When drank, a Potion of Lycanthropic Spirit detaches the spirit of a person (human, demi-human, or humanoid) from their body and the spirit takes on the shape of a great animal, as per whichever potion was drunk. A strange spiritual material called ectoplasm gives the animal its “body” which is directed by the mind of the one who drank the odd potion. It is important that the person who is guiding this spirit animal is not disturbed as anyone woken from their trance loses control of the spirit animal and the spirit snaps back into the body. Alchemists and witch doctors charge a princely sum for any of these potions as they are not true lycanthropy an are not a curse.
Benefit: The effects of a potion last for one day unless the spirit is recalled by the one using the potion or that person is disturbed while in the trance required to maintain control over their bestial spirit form. Those disturbed while in this trance suffer 1d6 hit points of damage. The spirit animal can travel up to three miles away from the physical body.
Animals and their qualities are as follows, all of these animals move at 150′ (50′) and have one attack and can take 1d12 + 4 points of “damage” (which doesn’t affect the body or spirit of the imbiber of the potion):
Bear: Claw or bite 1d8, bear hug for 2d8 points of damage
Boar: Gore for 1d12 points of damage, trample or bite for 1d8 points of damage
Fox: Bite or claw for 1d6 points of damage
Rat: Bite or claw for 1d4 points of damage
Tiger: Pounce for 2d6 points of damage, claw or bite for 1d8 points of damage
Wolf: Bite or claw for 1d8 points of damage
Usable by: Anyone who drinks the potion with a spirit or soul.
from → Uncategorized
Sarga the Vampire Lord
Long dead hands clasped an ancient staff, a gaggle of grisly undead creatures fawned at the feet of their master, each begging to be the first to bring the blood of those who would defy their master to his lips.
“No, that is unnecessary, I am Sarga, I can do this myself,” a voice, a voice older than some civilizations, croaked.
“Mavnor, he is coming! Are you ready?” Chalk asked excitedly.
“As ready as I will ever be,” the druid replied.
Koram, Gnybaro, Valance and Ghervule were packing the group’s belongings hastily. Then a scratching could be heard at the door. Everyone stopped what they were doing.
“I hope you are right about this,” Chalk said to Ghervule the sorceress.
“Me too,” she said fearfully.
The door creaked open slowly. A pair of eyes glowed eerily in the dark. Chalk threw a broom across the threshold. Sarga, the Vampire Lord, snarled in frustration.
“Mavnor, get us out of here!” Chalk shouted. The druid cast a spell that opened a passageway under the earth. Koram was the last to pass through the portal. He stopped to regard the hideous creature.
“Come on, you oaf!” Chalk shouted.
The fighter descended into the earthy realm as the vampire spat at Koram.
Later, after they were sure that the Vampire Lord was far enough away Koram chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Gnybaro asked.
“There he was, the great Vampire Lord, counting the straws in the broom before he could enter the hovel.”
Chalk shivered, contemplating what would have happened if that hadn’t worked.
Sarga the Vampire Lord
No. Enc.: 1 (Unique)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 150’ 50′
Fly: 240′ 80′
Armor Class: 2
Hit Dice: 10
Attacks: 1
Damage: 1D12, Drain Life Energy
Save: F10
Morale: 12
Hoard Class: XVII
XP 1350
One of the greatest terrors that walks the planet (or flies the night skies), Sarga the Vampire Lord is an exceptional creature among the undead. In addition to all of the powers that are attributed to normal vampires (see Labyrinth Lord Revised page 101), Sarga deals 1d12 damage in combat with his wicked claws, can summon the Knights of Dispassion, 1d10 Ghouls or 1d4 Wraiths to do his bidding. Sarga controls a large realm through fear and tyranny, the peasants are usually too frightened to warn those entering their land about their wicked king.
In appearance Sarga almost looks pitiful, he is short, thin and a bit craven looking. The vampire tyrant dresses in black finery and has a sort of sickly air of authority about him. Large blue eyes and slicked back hair along with his protruding fangs give Sarga a strange appearance.
With all of the traditional weaknesses of vampires, Sarga has one more; various folk wisdom regarding holding vampires at bay works on him. A few peasants have stumbled across this knowledge accidentally and keep this a secret, but might be cajoled into revealing this news to strangers that they trust.
from → Uncategorized
Knights of Dispassion
Fendiferis the wizard was desperate for coin, so desperate that he waited at the crossroads for three nights running just outside the town of Candle near the Dread Hills. One night, they came, surrounding him, moving silently, dressed in ancient armor and bearing horrible weapons.
“What have you for us?” hissed one of the creatures, its face obscured by an ornate helmet.
“Names,” replied Fendiferis, trembling visibly.
“Names of whom? What are these names to us?” asked another creature, with a voice that creaked and crackled with villainy.
“Of those who have touched the Sword of Sarga,” the wizard answered nervously.
“Lies!” the first creature spat out, drawing a wicked dagger.
“No! I know of a pack of adventurers who stole the sword from a merchant near Bottle,” Fendiferis replied quickly.
“What do you ask of us?” yet another of the hideous creatures asked in a deep, booming tone.
“Coins,” answered the nervous wizard.
“Name the names,” this deep voiced monster in knightly armor said plainly.
“Chalk, Koram, Valance, Gnybaro and a couple of others, a sorceress and a druid,” Fendiferis squeaked. At that moment he realized that he had sold out the humans, these creatures would hunt them down mercilessly.
The knights all regarded each other a moment, as if in silent conversation. One knight, with a horned helmet, raised his sword high then plunged the tip of the blade into the earth. Coins boiled up out of the ground, hundreds and thousands of gold and silver coins. Fendiferis laughed with relief and began throwing the coins into a bag that he had.
The first knight, one who crouched slightly and hissed grabbed the wizard’s robe.
“Know that if you have lied to us you will face a fate that will have you begging for death,” the creature hissed.
Fendiferis nodded numbly, still gathering the coins with hands that worked without thought.
The Knights of Dispassion are usually met at crossroads near midnight or in the small hours, the air always feels a bit colder and crisper in their presence. The knights are six in number, dressed in archaic plate armor from different times and places, and they are armed with swords or maces, either weapon type is equally wicked, usually poisoned and often magical in nature.
These dreadful creatures are thralls to Sarga, Lord of Vampires and carry out his will, traveling the land and making magical pacts with mortals. The Knights of Dispassion trade minor favors on behalf of their master for promises of blood and flesh for their Sarga, of for information regarding people and objects of interest to the Vampire Lord. Coffers of coins, ancient amulets or talismans, magically enslaved servants and the like are all at the disposal of the Knights of Dispassion, although everything is tainted in some way; old coins will be hard to spend because of superstitious merchants, magic items will cause some sort of negative effect to those around the user, magically enslaved servants will have their families or friends arrive to rescue them, etc. The Knights of Dispassion also hunt the Sword of Sarga, and will go to any lengths to return this legendary weapon to their master.
These creatures are considered semi-undead because they are long lived, share some of the qualities (although minimized) of vampires and are tireless hunters.
Knights of Dispassion [6 in total]
- [AL C, MV 120’ (40’), AC 4, HD 8, #AT 2, DG Weapon 1d12 (plus poison, see below ) or bite 1d6 , SV F10, ML 12]In addition, the Knights of Dispassion suffer half damage from cold and electricity and regenerate one point of damage per round.
The poisonous weapons of the Knights of Dispassion cause victims to make a save versus poison or suffer 1d12 additional points of poison damage. Any of these six fiends may have up to three spells levels 1-3, used as spell-like abilities, each once per day, usually dealing with spells that chill, instill fear or harm.
from → Uncategorized
Sword of Sarga, the Vampire Lord
“Buy my sword, sir?” the shady merchant asked Koram.
“Hmmm,” replied the fighter, eyeing the wicked looking blade.
“It looks too weird,” Chalk advised.
“I would trade for your humble sword, good sir,” the merchant said, ignoring Chalk and indicating the strange crystal sword that Koram wore at his side.
“I don’t know, this sword looks rather evil,” Koram said, rather hesitant.
“Oh, quit dancing around, of course it is!” Valance interjected, “we are here to buy rope and other supplies, leave that wicked sword be. Better to be hunted by the Astral Raiders who only rarely reach our plane than whatever owns that foul weapon.”
The merchant began to protest, a vicious looking spider the size of a cat strolled out of the cleric’s sleeve and looked at the merchant. He relented.
Lost for many ages, this hideous weapon has once again resurfaced. Hunted by the minions of Sarga to return to their dreaded master, the Sword of Sarga is a formidable weapon, forged in the hellish pits of the great vampire’s realm. Before combat even begins the weapon begins its insidious work on the enemies of the one who bears the sword, sending out a general malaise. In combat the sword is also vicious, with qualities that make it a weapon to fear and loathe. This long blue-black longsword is ornately decorated in a baroque style.
Benefit: All those who oppose the bearer of the Sword of Sarga that come within 30 feet of the wielder are -1 to strike, hit by waves of despair and dread. Once the sword strikes it grants the bearer 1d4 hit points per strike (the sword does 1d12 damage itself, the bearer will receive at least one hit point per successful strike) that deals damage, stealing a bit of the life essence of the target. The one holding the sword may even temporarily go over their maximum number of hit points (this effect only lasts for one hour after combat, at which time the points dissipate). Usable by: Anyone not afraid to keep the personal weapon of an ancient vampire lord whose minions are scouring the land looking for it.
from → Uncategorized
Weirdwall
“I am not sure what is after us this time,” Gnybaro said, looking a bit nervous.
“That’s strange, normally somebody says ‘Orcs!’ before something happens,” Koram remarked.
Chalk closed his eyes and cast a spell.
“Lizardmen! With something else, maybe troglodytes,” Chalk said.
Valance patted down his robes, dislodging several bizarre spiders, fumbling for healing potions. Gnybaro and Koram prepared weapons. Ghervule scanned her spellbook.
“Aha!” the sorceress exclaimed.
With a motion of her hands and a few words the wall before her began to shift and change. Tentacles writhed out of the wall, eyes appeared, mouths opened.
“Gah!” shouted Gnybaro in horror.
“Shouldn’t we have been on the down the hall or something, how are we going to get passed that?” Koram asked, shivering as he eyed the horrible wall.
“They are just about here!” Chalk said.
“Watch, whelps!” Ghervule said, then she approached the wall. Tentacles wrapped around her slender body and dragged her towards the champing teeth of a grisly maw. Gnybaro shrieked, Chalk ran forward, Koram raised is Crystal Sword.
“You idiots, this is just going to set me on the other side of the wall. But it looks pretty grisly, right?” Ghervule said just before the wall swallowed her.
Reluctantly the others followed just before the scaly reptilians approached.
“Pretty neat, eh?” Ghervule said, proud of herself.
“It might have been better if there had been a room on the other side of the wall, now we are outside!”Gnybaro complained.
“Maybe, crimp, but we aren’t fighting lizardmen,” Ghervule countered.
Koram raised his sword.
“Maybe not, hedge-wizard, but that troll doesn’t look like he wants to bargain, either,” Koram said, indicating a hulking figure leering from the nearby trees.
Weirdwall (Arcane)
Level 3
Range: Touch
Duration: One day per level of magic-user.
Weirdwall transforms normal walls, affecting up to 1200 square feet. This magical wall is covered in writhing tentacles, gaping maws and rolling bloodshot eyes. This horrible wall will moan and groan, attempting to catch victims with its tentacles and drag them into a slobbering mouth. Tentacles grab on a roll of 1-3 on a d6 and each tentacle (there are roughly twenty of these per Weirdwall spell) can take 1d8 points of damage before being severed and destroyed. Anyone “eaten” by the wall is actually merely deposited on the other side of the wall, although it will appear as if they are being mauled by ferocious teeth.
from → Uncategorized
Fumbletongue
Harvack the Dread rode his jet black nightmare of a horse to the edge of the rustic town, followed by a small contingency of ruffians. The nights were getting colder and Harvack’s men required warm accomodations.
The ghastly horse pricked up its ears and stepped uneasily. Harvack sat tall in his saddle, looked over his shoulder and pointed at the scruffy village.
“Mef jaek resn baf!” Harvack commanded, then seemed surprised at his own words. His men looked about, from face to face.
“Gaw bavi crega!” Harvack shouted, obviously annoyed. His gang of thugs looked confused.
From out of the nearby brush a small band of elves, lead by something mysterious and fey appeared, peppering Harvack and his men with enchanted arrows.
“Xar nefti wosto!” Harvack shouted at the elves, shaky his fist with rage, then he turned his dreadful horse and rode off.
“Nar ecki vaso,” commented one of the thugs as he turned to run, then was surprised at his own words.
The elven troupe found Stork and Vistis the Blue Mage guffawing in the nearby underbrush.
“You have saved a village of innocent humans and elves from misery and heartache. Please take these elven coins, spend them wisely,” said one of the elven archers, tossing a luxurious pouch at the two wizards.
Stork opened the pouch after the elves had gone, revealing a handful of antique and beautiful platinum coins. A veritable fortune.
Both wizards shrugged. Stork had a shocked look on his face. Vistis the Blue Mage did as well, but it was concealed beneath his lacquered mask.
Fumbletongue (Arcane)
Level 2
Range: 30 feet per level of magic-user
Duration: Ten minutes per level of casting wizard
This obnoxious spell is the bane of many a spellcaster and speech giver. When cast, Fumbletongue garbles the speech of all (except the wizard casting the spell) within the range of the spell who fail a saving throw versus Spells and Spell-like Devices. The person cannot speak intelligibly for the duration of the spell. Sign language and written speech can be understood normally, but any speech will be totally mixed up and nobody will be able to understand words spoken.
from → Uncategorized
