Breathing New Life into your Monsters

Rechan

Adventurer
Nyaricus said:
EDIT: I wanted to do this spin on dwarves which made them psionic and downright nasty in nature. Taking a few of the basic dwarven traits which we take for granted (lineage is important, masters of the underworld, great miners, greedy bastards) I've morphed them into a psionic caste-society of miners and everyone-hating crystal-hoarders. Which I think is mighty cool and a good twist on dwarves :cool:
Reminds me of Duergar, actually. :)

I had a thought the other day. After reading Pathfinder, something clicked. I didn't think Pathfinder went far enough.

Goblins are the creatures from the movie Gremlins.

Little, malicious, thriving on mayhem and cruelty. They have no culture, no redeeming qualities. They love to break things, to burn things, to taunt things, as goblins have a great sense of humor - to goblins. Goblins do not breed - whenever someone has a mean, hateful thought, a goblin is born into the world somewhere.
 

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Nyaricus

First Post
Rechan said:
Reminds me of Duergar, actually. :)
You know, it didn't strike me until after the fact that these are kinda similar to Duergar, but then I've never used the monsters in my games, and I've only read some of the FR books which just had the Duergar at forges while Bruenor hacked them, or something to that effect.

In any case, It's something I want to use in some future game :D

cheers,
--N
 

Phril

First Post
sckeener said:
After all...Ghouls might have a food preference.....certain organs (skin/eyes/brains/etc)...

Hey, they're not unreasonable. I mean, no one's gonna eat your eyes. :)

I've got a few slightly altered takes on critters I've used in my games, two of which really stand out:

The Hobgoblin Khans - These make an appearance in all my campaign worlds. Rather than clumping up in fortresses and marching out Uruk-hai-like to smash handy settlements, they are masters of mounted combat and spend most of their lives on horseback. They dominate the high steppes under a loose knit federation of nomadic tribes constantly vying for dominance (through direct conflict, but also through displays of captured wealth). Only the greatest warriors can hope to claw their way to the title of Great Khan, and when one arises the neighboring lands tremble in fear at the prospect of a thundering orange-skinned horde descending upon them.

The Goblin Keldas - This idea came about out of my desire to throw whole tribes worth of evil humanoids at my players without winding up with a Garriot-esque moral dilema when the players fought through all the baddies only to find the nursery. Goblins in this world are like a mix of rats and hive insects: breeding females are vanishingly rare, but make up for it by staying almost continuously pregnant during the fertile portion of their life and by giving birth to huge litters. Their spawn reach maturity shockingly fast, which leads to massive population pressure. The Keldas, those few females who survive their breeding years to become leaders of the tribe, release this pressure by periodically sending out 'raiding parties' and 'warbands' from their homes deep in the underdark, ranging from a few dozen to a few hundred goblins. Most never return, which suits the Keldas just fine. When the time comes for a Kelda to step down from the council, usually due to infirmity, senility or madness, she is put in charge of one of these grand expeditions. The male goblins, clever as they may be, have a blind spot when it comes to their females, and will follow even the most moon-addled old hag without question. Because of all this, most bands that adventurers will meet are composed entirely of combatant males, rarely accompanied by a wrinkled and possibly quite mad witch doctor. They also tend to be composed of the young, the dangerously psychotic (even compared to normal goblins) or those getting on in years. Deep delvers will find that they get significantly nastier (and higher in challenge rating) the closer one gets to the goblin homelands, with the lairs themselves guarded by a fanatical elite.
 

NarlethDrider

First Post
Phril said:
Hey, they're not unreasonable. I mean, no one's gonna eat your eyes. :)

I've got a few slightly altered takes on critters I've used in my games, two of which really stand out:

The Hobgoblin Khans - These make an appearance in all my campaign worlds. Rather than clumping up in fortresses and marching out Uruk-hai-like to smash handy settlements, they are masters of mounted combat and spend most of their lives on horseback. They dominate the high steppes under a loose knit federation of nomadic tribes constantly vying for dominance (through direct conflict, but also through displays of captured wealth). Only the greatest warriors can hope to claw their way to the title of Great Khan, and when one arises the neighboring lands tremble in fear at the prospect of a thundering orange-skinned horde descending upon them.

The Goblin Keldas - This idea came about out of my desire to throw whole tribes worth of evil humanoids at my players without winding up with a Garriot-esque moral dilema when the players fought through all the baddies only to find the nursery. Goblins in this world are like a mix of rats and hive insects: breeding females are vanishingly rare, but make up for it by staying almost continuously pregnant during the fertile portion of their life and by giving birth to huge litters. Their spawn reach maturity shockingly fast, which leads to massive population pressure. The Keldas, those few females who survive their breeding years to become leaders of the tribe, release this pressure by periodically sending out 'raiding parties' and 'warbands' from their homes deep in the underdark, ranging from a few dozen to a few hundred goblins. Most never return, which suits the Keldas just fine. When the time comes for a Kelda to step down from the council, usually due to infirmity, senility or madness, she is put in charge of one of these grand expeditions. The male goblins, clever as they may be, have a blind spot when it comes to their females, and will follow even the most moon-addled old hag without question. Because of all this, most bands that adventurers will meet are composed entirely of combatant males, rarely accompanied by a wrinkled and possibly quite mad witch doctor. They also tend to be composed of the young, the dangerously psychotic (even compared to normal goblins) or those getting on in years. Deep delvers will find that they get significantly nastier (and higher in challenge rating) the closer one gets to the goblin homelands, with the lairs themselves guarded by a fanatical elite.

I like what you did, especially w/the goblins

There has been a lot of cool things in this thread!
 


Brazeku

First Post
A long while ago, our play group came up with a variety of troll who practiced a particular type of cannibalism which centered around capturing the powerful warriors of other tribes, and basically eating pieces of them (especially the ears, considered a 'power point') to gather their strength before battle. Comrades would ritually perform the same mutilation/consumption on one another with a special sharpened stone edge.

*note: a peculiarity of these trolls is that a regenerated body part would regrow with increasingly dark pigmentation - trolls who had been in combat very often were referred to as 'black-ears'. The trolls also looked cosmetically different - they were brown to sandy colored and had basically no nose.

Obviously, any captured warriors would be kept alive to have their essence continually harvested, perhaps to be ransomed back later or married into the clan. Trolls who everyone wanted to stay dead would be devoured completely during a great feast/execution. This was considered an honorable death, as the slain troll's life would continue to exert its strength in the community.

In their own legends, their regenerating aspect was tied into their status as the children of a particular nature goddess (represented as a lontar palm), who was continually giving birth to all manner of creatures. The trolls were the goddess's first born and sworn protectors. The trolls themselves lived on the savannah, wore white robes, and carried woven reed shields. They generally chose not to adorn themselves with metal jewelry or body paint because they felt that interrupted their contact with their goddess - only plant matter, clay dabbed on the face, and undyed cloth were ritually permitted. To this end, their most sacred weapons were staves made of palm wood. The prominent troll settlements clustered around these trees.

Based on their religion, their spontaneous casters used a type of figure magic, each figure representing a different force of nature. There were four types of figure, and four substances, and the power of any given figurine was derived by the combination thereof:
-Palm Reed (air)
-Bone (fire)
-Clay (earth)
-Papyrus (water)

and

-Ibis (life)
-Man (well, troll) (heart)
-Scarab (death)
-Ox (wealth)

Depending on how you crossed them and what level of spell slot you expended, you would get a different effect when the figure was broken.
 

Phril

First Post
Ryan Stoughton said:
Phril, those are great. Really great. Could you be tempted towards the Great Hundred?

Thanks! I must admit that the goblins aren't entirely original. The concept is heavily cribbed off of the social structure of the Nac Mac Feegle in Terry Pratchett's Discworld books, just twisted around and turned appropriately evil. The hobgoblins are just your typical cultural filter, inspired originally I think by a picture I saw long ago of a hobgoblin in a typical mongol spiked helmet. A lot of my campaign ideas tend to be like that, an idea cribbed from one source or another and let run wild.

Great Hundred looks really interesting, I'll have to look into it. :)
 

Daniel D. Fox

Explorer
1) In my humanocentric homebrew, the elusive Siabra have fiercly protected the swamplands of Dunharrow with cold neutrality and give no egress to trespassers. As servants of the witchwoman, simply called "the Hexa", they bear masks of wicker, resembling their interpretation of their ancestors. Unnaturally thin (think Nightmare before Christmas elongated), they remain still as reeds, moving only when neccessary. Amongst their tribes, every hedgedruid has a servant called the Loeg ("patron") that wears hard ironbark, woven by the mistresses of the tribes into clattering armor. Deep in these swamplands, amongst the ghostwood trees (trees of faintly silvery bark that capture the moon's light), they eek out an existence to simply subside and live, insulating their society from the influence of the mannish cultures from beyond. These are elves in my game.

2) The Taken live a life not unlike our own. They milk the udders of cows, they plow fields and go about the daily bustle of sedentary life. They live amongst their families, they light hearthcandles at night and share stories, they even go through the normal motions that wives and husbands have.

However, the Taken (or Hurmasti in Gothric) are anything alike us. The cows they milk are long dead, the fields left burned and destroyed, their children nothing more than cobbled-together bones sewn with sinew and straw. These folk have been long dead, and continue to carry through with their normal lives as they did before they passed unto the other side. Bound by ancient curses that pervade the very soil they tilled, these folk are hardly dangerous...unless you happen into one of their villages. These are zombies in my game.
 
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