Crazy Head Lady

I should note that places described in my little stories or whatever you want to call them actually do appear in my Homebrewed world, which I am slowly working on. Maybe I'll detail them later, but for I'll put in whatever necessary information you might need to understand what's going on.

The Crazy Head Lady would be considered an NPC or singular villian instead of a type of monster.

The woman in front of me appeared quite, certifiably insane. She was making a strange sort of clicking noise in the back of her throat and her body was constantly in motion. It wasn't that she was attempting to escape because I didn't believe she was, but more that her body with filled with so much energy or that her nerves never let her go and they kept jerking her around. I watched her for a short time, waiting for her to slow down, to stop. I waited to see if she was ever going to ask me anything, to speak with me, or demand something, such as a trip to the bathroom or some food. She did none of these things as I waited.

I have an impressive patience, or so I have been told. Perhaps it comes with living such a long life that waiting a few hours or even a few days is nearly meaningless to me. This woman, I believe, has a patience which threatened to compete with mine. I do not believe she could have lasted as long as me, but considering that I was sitting in silence and she was constantly making those noises and motions, one hour, two hours, twelve hours, it makes a greater difference depending on varying activities. She relieved herself in the middle of this time. I could tell she was going to go all the way in this farce, but I decided to finally put an end to it. I could see through her, see what she didn't believe anyone, or at least myself, could see. It was her eyes. Eyes are the mirrors to the soul, and I could see the blackness, the vile nature, of her soul. I could also tell that she was as calm and collected as I was when not lying.

"You're lying to me," I told her. "Do you realize I can see through you?" She made no indication that she registered the words I said or even heard them, but I knew. I knew.

I sat at the desk placed outside the protected glass in the chamber. I brought out my book of paper with a name written into the title: Jarene. Oddly enough, it was her true name. Neighbors of the woman had been interviewed and they had told the city guard that her name had been Jarene. Some people didn't believe that was truly her name, but it was. The True Naming Ritual told me this and as far as I knew, which was a great deal, nothing had ever been able to fool the Ritual. I opened the book and looked at my notes.

"This says you kill people," I told her as I skimmed the first few pages. I already knew what they said, but my part was as much a play as hers was. The truth is important to some people while lies are important to others. She cared about the lies, I cared about the truth. "This says you remove their heads. Why do you do this?"

Her only response was the continuation of her clicking noises. "Jarene." She looked at me. For the first time, she truly looked at me instead of through me or off into space. Good, I thought. This was good. "Why do you remove their heads, Jarene?" She didn't answer, however. I glanced through my notes and found the section detailing the examination of the heads the city guard had found in a bloody bag she had been carrying. All the heads had been infected with Necrotic energies, granting them a semblance of life. The heads had no feelings whatsoever, but they acted as if they had had a built up raged that had been festering their entire life and only now was able to be let loose. I didn't know if that was a side effect of the necrotic energies or if that was another ability of this woman, to store the anger of her victims in their heads before or after killing them. Half of the heads also had a strange alchemical substance in them that ignited when touching fresh air outside the bag, causing these heads to explode violently. I still had more research that needed to be conducted upon the heads.

I also knew that removing the heads was a way to prevent others from using the Speak With Dead Ritual or the Death Visions Ritual. There was a carving upon the body that was apparently part of a Ritual to prevent other Rituals from working in the vicinity, such as the Stone Tell Ritual which I attempted to use to watch her carry out the murders. A part of me was glad that I could not see the murder through the eyes of the Stone because the brutalness of the crime was something no one should witness. I could only imagine the incident in my head, watching her stab someone over and over again, but waiting for a long time before the attacks were more than superficial attacks. The city guard inspectors had found a total of thirty-seven cut wounds to each victim's body. It was an exact number which did not include the open eye carved into the bodies of the victims. What I didn't know was what made her tick. What could cause her to decide that stabbing people was an enjoyable pasttime? And why was the number thirty-seven significant to her?

I tried again for several more hours, but eventually, I felt the need to eat. However, when I had returned, the woman was gone and she had somehow broken out of the prison. The city guards attempted to recapture her, but they failed. They had managed to catch her, trapping her, fooling her into believing that someone had witnessed one of the murders occur, but that would not happen again. She was clever; she had been fooled once, but she would not be fooled again.

- From the Journal of Kedric Orakson, Renowned Mind Mage


I saw Jarene again. She seemed just as surprised to see me again as well. She was as calm and collected as I had always believed her to be. She carried the tell-tale bloody sack in her left hand. Only because it was dark and she was in a shady part of town was she able to walk around so blatant despite how wanted she was. No, not only because of that. Most importantly because we were both in a city on the opposite part of the world as when we had met previously and she had not yet committed any crimes that people had reported. Her hair was different now, both in color and style. She wore a simple, yet elegant dress with a dainty white belt in which was placed a short knife.

"I remember you, Kedric," she told me. I stared into those cold, soulless dark blue eyes, her only distinguishable feature. Had she dropped her bag and ran into a crowd, I would never be able to determine who she was until she turned around and I could see once again into her eyes. "I take their heads because that bastard killed my baby. You will all pay."

Before I could act, she reached into that bloody bag of hers and pulled out a man's head by the hair. Thinking back quickly, I remembered that every corpse had been that of a man, one with a family. How many of them had children? I simply could not remember. I did not have the time to think any longer as the dead head was flung towards me. I ducked out of the way and avoided the fiery blast of the flaming head. When I had stood again, Jarene was gone. She was going to continue her killing spree, and I didn't think anyone would be able to stop her.

- From the Journal of Kedric Orakson, Renowned Mind Mage, dated one year later.




________________________________________
Jarene [aka, Crazy Head Lady] Level 3 Solo Artillery
Medium natural humanoid Exp: 750

Initiative: 4 Senses: Perception +2
AC: 19 Fortitude: 17 Reflex: 18 Will: 15
HP: 184; Bloodied: 92
Saving Throws +5
Speed 6
Action points: 2

Shiv Stab (standard; at-will)
+10 vs. AC; 1d6 + 1 damage

Biting Head (standard; at-will)
Ranged 5: +8 vs. Ref; 1d6 + 3 and the target is grabbed (until escape) and takes ongoing 5 damage (until saves)

Explosive Head (standard; recharge 5,6)
Area Burst 2 within 8; +8 vs. Ref; 2d10 + 3 fire damage and takes ongoing 5 fire damage (until saves).


Alignment Evil Languages Common
Str: 13 (+2) Dex: 16 (+4) Wis: 12 (+2)
Con: 15 (+3) Int: 17 (+4) Cha: 14 (+3)