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)

Dog Moon

I hope that's how you spell Shepherd... no underlining in red, so it should be fine. ANYWAY, first Blog entry EVER and I figured we have them, so we might as well use them.

At ANY rate... As I enjoy creating miscellaneous monsters, I figured I would use my Blog to post these creatures instead of creating a thread, but if this doesn't work, I'll just go back to that. The first up is the Evil Shepherder, a creature which uses sheep for weapons. I do enjoy more than simply stats as well, so there should be an interesting [or so I hope] ecology/background miscellania stuff. Especially since anyone can just put together some random stats together and make a creature.

"Gather around children, for I have a story to tell you." The elderly man waited patiently for the half dozen or so - he couldn't really remember how to count well anymore and had anyone asked him, he would have proudly told you he had seventeen fingers and then angrily argue with you if you ever refuted his claim - to gather eagerly in front of him. Children of all ages enjoy stories and these children were no exception. "It's about a person I met once years ago. It was a chilly autumn day and I could see my breath clearly before me. The sun was beginning its descent towards the tips of the mountain to my left and I wasn't sure I would make it to the next village before nightfall. Odd, isn't it, that we would call it nightfall when it's the sun falling and the moon rising? Anyway, back then, my legs were sturdy and I could walk without the pain in my knees. I began to step up my pace, but it was only an hour later that I realized I had gone off track and had lost my original path. Still, I was on a path and though it wasn't the correct one, I felt it had to go somewhere.

"Indeed it did, I found out as the tops of the mountains attempted futiley to stab the poor sun. It led to a small plateau within the hilly countryside. Standing within this plateau were dozens of sheep milling about and pretty much acting exactly as sheep would. A couple looked up at me with glazed over eyes, but they were more interested in munching the grass beneath them than watching someone enter their territory. In the center of the sheep stood a small wooden cabin. Smoke gushed out of it, dark, ugly smoke. It was not the comfortable, inviting smoke of a fireplace. No, I knew something had gone wrong, and I hurried to help."

The old man took a deep breath, his eyes moving from child to child. They were enraptured, their attention fully on him. He kept back a smile as he continued his story. "I found an older man sitting upon the porch of his cabin upon a chair away from the windows and doors as best he could, an impossibility and he occasionally coughed when the smoke neared him too closely. He looked up at me as I approached and I dare say that while I saw an unsurprising sadness in his features, his lips were curled into a strange, evil smile, and his eyes gleamed in excitement as if a stranger was the only thing he looked forward to in life.

"'Howdy stranger,' he said to me. I greeted him back pleasantly, pausing a short distance away from the cabin, unsure of what to make of the man. He held something in his hand, a staff of sorts, I believed at the time, though I couldn't see it well enough. 'I'd offer you a place to stay,' he told me, 'But as you can tell, I'm lacking that very thing.' I told him that was fine. I offered him som food, and he gladly accepted. We ate and chatted about the weather until the sun had completely disappeared from the sky. The man stood and somehow, his staff caught the moonlight and I realized then that the staff he carried was made of shined bone. I stared in horror and took several steps back.

"I heard a noise behind me. I whirled around. I found myself staring into the black, beedy eyes of a sheep. Baaa, baaa. I began to calm down, but that's when the sheep exploded, spewing guts and gore all around me. Pieces of bone cut into my skin. I screamed and fled, unable to face the man as he began to cackle wildly. Baaa, baaa." The old man suddenly stopped. The children's eyes were as round as saucers, and their mouths hung open in anticipation and horror. They saw nothing but the old storyteller. He took a look around him as if for the first time noticing the sheep around them. "Oh no," he said in horror. The children's eyes followed his gaze and they scrambled to their feet as they saw the sheep like they had never seen sheep before. The old man grinned as he slammed his feet to the ground as he yelled out "Boom!" The children screamed as they imagined sheep exploding around them. The old man chuckled, but while the children recovered from his story of horror, his mind drifted back to his encounter with the crazy man and the exploding sheep.

I remember that story being told to me when I was a young child. I had been terrified at the time, but we all had been. In time, I came to stop believing in strange monsters such as the Evil Shepherder. In time, I came to realize just how true these stories truly were. I have seen sheep mowed down by the dozens, slaughtered by marauders, but there is nothing that compares to the vileness of watching a sheep explode with Necrotic energy in a nearby burst. Unfortunately until the sheep explodes, there is nothing to distinguish one ready to explode and one that just feels like eating grass. Cut it, kill it, feed it, whatever, it will always look and act the same until the Shepherder himself decides that the sheep should do something differently, like explode.

I saw this once, a rare encounter during my travels. Only with the help of my guide Arana Il'Yatava and my bodyguard Gensavi Rectavu were we able to fend them off. The Shepherder came off innocently and none of us realized the danger immediately. Sheep were crossing the road and we were forced to take a break. An occasional sheep wandered near us before passing by and only because this occurred several times did we relax our guard, until a nearby one abruptly exploded. Let me tell you, there's little in the world less pleasant than having the exploded remains of sheep fly towards you and cover you with the Necrotic stench. What's worse is that the Shepherder apparently kept several pouches of guts nearby because as we were attempting to avoid the sheep, he began hurling entrails and organs at us. Arana struck the Shepherder down with what appeared to be a lucky shot, but we quickly left the sheep afterwards. Fortunately, I had a handy Ritual I was able to cast which removed the horrid stench from our persons. We circled the herd and continue our way.

Now, I have talked with my colleagues after returning from my travels. Some only believe these beings to be nothing more than scary stories. Others, however, believe these to be only a minor selection of the Shepherders in existence. Worse yet, they believe that sheep are not the only animals which can be found in the presence of these crazy people, but any basic, generally stupid, animal which can be found in packs. One of the teachers believes that the Rat Enthusiast down the block is one. He refuses to go anywhere near that street in fear that a rat will catch him offguard and explode. I do not know if this is true or not, but I will most assuredly find out somehow.

-From the notes of Ra'Uf Jafar, Historian and Cataloguer

Stats! It's what I do.
________________________________________
Evil Shephard Level 3 Solo Elite
Medium natural humanoid Exp: 750

Initiative: 3 Sense Perception +1
AC: 19 Fortitude: 15 Reflex: 17 Will: 18
HP: 184; Bloodied: 92
Saving Throws +5
Speed 6
Action points: 2

Sheep Bone Staff (standard; at-will)
+8 vs. AC; 1d6 + 2 damage

Necrotic Sheep Blood (standard; at-will)
5; +8 vs. AC; 1d6 + 2 Necrotic damage

Exploding Sheep (immediate reaction; when an enemy moves within 1 square of sheep that is located within 5 squares of the Evil Shephard; recharge 4,5,6)

Burst 1; +5 vs. Ref; 2d10 + 3 Necrotic damage

Wall of Sheep (move; at-will)
Can move up to 3 sheep each 1 square

Alignment Evil Languages Common
Str: 15 (+3) Dex: 15 (+3) Wis: 12 (+2)
Con: 14 (+3) Int: 11 (+1) Cha: 17 (+4)
________________________________________

Note: For ease of use, treat Sheep as Giant Rats, in case they become targets of attacks [a dead sheep cannot explode].

Optional: What I did spur of the moment when running this creature was to halve the damage of explosion and make it so it was an Immediate Reaction without the recharge. When I ran it, the rats hurt at first, but the threat sort of lessened quickly because the number of rats decreased due to explosions and the characters targeting them specifically to make them explode on their own].

Alternate: It might be an interesting thing to try, which I did not, but instead of having 3 sheep moving 1 square each, having 3 'points' of movement to use among all the sheep, meaning 1 sheep moving 3, 1 sheep 2 and a second sheep 1, etc. to give a little more surprise factor.

Dog Moon