I ran a game once where the party explored a small abandoned house next to a scene of brutal murder. They entered into the kitchen through a hole in the fireplace to discover a desicated human hand with a bright gold ring, the hand scurried away. In another room they found the cieling rafters had colapsed and punched a hole down into the cellar. Looking through the hole they saw a desicated human body partially crushed beneath the beam. This body clawed at the floor in futility attempting to escape. Its fingers now only nubs and 5 grooves worn deep into the stone floor.
Creepy...
- Thread starter demiurge1138
- Start date
tombshroud
Explorer
ummm.....bump?
I've come up with a sadistic idea derived from Swedish Chef's orphan/cult thing:
First, introduce your chars to a street urchin who refuses to go with them to the inn. Then, start having disappearances of street people, adults and children, with the adults reappearing a few days later with their heads opened up and their brains missing (random angles, so one has a hole in the back of his head, another is missing her face, etc). Then, their friend disappears.
They find a cult's lair, but don't encounter anyone, and fail to identify the symbols (at least, right away). Further in, they encounter a heavily locked door, from which their friend's voice is emanating. After they open the door by whatever means (allow explosive opening to not hurt the kid), they find that she seems alright, except for one little thing: she is rubbing her right ear. When someone removes her hand from the ear, you describe that it is red and swollen, somehow irritated, but by what is unknown.
The group then goes to a second door, and begin to open that upon confirming that another child, one that their friend knows and saw put in there (to make sure that they open it), is in there. As they work, the second child starts complaining loudly, "It hurts! Stop the hurting!" At some point, have the PC's friend pull one of them aside and mention that she is getting a headache.
When the door is close to opening (HP is low or the rogue's close to finishing his Take 20), the child screams horribly, and describe a fleshy explosion sound (think a head shot and/or parasite emergence from Resident Evil 4), followed by a harsh growl sound. The door opens of it's own accord, and they see the second child. His original head is in pieces on the floor, everything but the brain has broken off. He has a new head, that is growing from being contained in the brain cavity and is fusing with the damaged (but now healing) neck. This new head lacks hair, is very rubbery, and has four tentacles around the mouth. It attempts to grapple whoever is closest; basically, a child Illithid. Once it is defeated, have their friend complain further about her headache if they didn't get the message already. If they manage to get the child to some appropriate healing on time (Greater Restoration or Heal should definitely work, smaller spells like Remove Disease should at least have a chance of working), then she lives. Otherwise, their friend dies horribly and attacks them.
After that, they still have a cult dwelling of Illithid worshippers and one of those briny pools that Illithid parasites are spawned in before getting a human host to deal with; although they should be able to get the assistance of the city watch if the girl survived and was healed by the local clergy, which will recognize the type of infection she has, although they will be disbelieving that it was from somewhere in the sewers. Throw a few cultists, some more child Illithids, a few of those over-grown larvae, and one of those Elder Brain things at them; say that it was weakened somehow by being locked away for centuries before some random, unlucky guy unearthed it and became the first cultist. Another possibility for that Elder Brain is have it teleport out once damaged to a certain point and become a recurring villain.
If you don't have a copy of Lords of Madness, get one before running this for stats and such (mine's not with me at the moment, hence some sketchy memory). Also, I know that I'm heavily modifying the normal spawning descriptions that LoM specifies for Illithids, but hey, it's more sadistic/creepy this way.
Another idea that I had before this was the idea of a vampire child that doesn't look undead until she hugs a party member and suddenly starts drinking his blood; possibly just modify the above to make her into a vampire and skip the second child part until after she's slain or raised or whatever.
Oh, and thank you Mr. Draco for those tips for horror DMing. I think I be liking those.
Evilgamer13, I like that necromancer idea. One idea that kept popping up in my mind while I was reading some books (Libris Mortis, Heroes of Horror) was a necro with one of those ghost symbionts from one of the monster manuals (or was it the fiend folio?) that can manifest itself as a face completely covering its host's face. Permanent, instantly conjurable/dismissable mask. That symbiont thing is even listed on the Dread Necromancer familiar list. Could make for a very long-lasting necromancer, as the PC's never see his true face, and he always has a getaway planned. Also, the local populace would never suspect him thanks to some crafty usage of enchantment and illusion spells, and the party paladin would find that Detect Evil senses nothing thanks to abjuration spells. Perhaps a Dread Necromancer with specialist wizard (picking Necro as a forbidden school) and some sort of prestige class that allows progression in spellcasting for two arcane classes that contain different spell lists, as well as familiar progression? Hmm . . . I think I like the idea of returning villains, especially if I can make them sufficiently sadistic and have them constantly doing things like killing children to further their goals . . .
So, am I twisted enough to be a DM?
First, introduce your chars to a street urchin who refuses to go with them to the inn. Then, start having disappearances of street people, adults and children, with the adults reappearing a few days later with their heads opened up and their brains missing (random angles, so one has a hole in the back of his head, another is missing her face, etc). Then, their friend disappears.
They find a cult's lair, but don't encounter anyone, and fail to identify the symbols (at least, right away). Further in, they encounter a heavily locked door, from which their friend's voice is emanating. After they open the door by whatever means (allow explosive opening to not hurt the kid), they find that she seems alright, except for one little thing: she is rubbing her right ear. When someone removes her hand from the ear, you describe that it is red and swollen, somehow irritated, but by what is unknown.
The group then goes to a second door, and begin to open that upon confirming that another child, one that their friend knows and saw put in there (to make sure that they open it), is in there. As they work, the second child starts complaining loudly, "It hurts! Stop the hurting!" At some point, have the PC's friend pull one of them aside and mention that she is getting a headache.
When the door is close to opening (HP is low or the rogue's close to finishing his Take 20), the child screams horribly, and describe a fleshy explosion sound (think a head shot and/or parasite emergence from Resident Evil 4), followed by a harsh growl sound. The door opens of it's own accord, and they see the second child. His original head is in pieces on the floor, everything but the brain has broken off. He has a new head, that is growing from being contained in the brain cavity and is fusing with the damaged (but now healing) neck. This new head lacks hair, is very rubbery, and has four tentacles around the mouth. It attempts to grapple whoever is closest; basically, a child Illithid. Once it is defeated, have their friend complain further about her headache if they didn't get the message already. If they manage to get the child to some appropriate healing on time (Greater Restoration or Heal should definitely work, smaller spells like Remove Disease should at least have a chance of working), then she lives. Otherwise, their friend dies horribly and attacks them.
After that, they still have a cult dwelling of Illithid worshippers and one of those briny pools that Illithid parasites are spawned in before getting a human host to deal with; although they should be able to get the assistance of the city watch if the girl survived and was healed by the local clergy, which will recognize the type of infection she has, although they will be disbelieving that it was from somewhere in the sewers. Throw a few cultists, some more child Illithids, a few of those over-grown larvae, and one of those Elder Brain things at them; say that it was weakened somehow by being locked away for centuries before some random, unlucky guy unearthed it and became the first cultist. Another possibility for that Elder Brain is have it teleport out once damaged to a certain point and become a recurring villain.
If you don't have a copy of Lords of Madness, get one before running this for stats and such (mine's not with me at the moment, hence some sketchy memory). Also, I know that I'm heavily modifying the normal spawning descriptions that LoM specifies for Illithids, but hey, it's more sadistic/creepy this way.
Another idea that I had before this was the idea of a vampire child that doesn't look undead until she hugs a party member and suddenly starts drinking his blood; possibly just modify the above to make her into a vampire and skip the second child part until after she's slain or raised or whatever.
Oh, and thank you Mr. Draco for those tips for horror DMing. I think I be liking those.
Evilgamer13, I like that necromancer idea. One idea that kept popping up in my mind while I was reading some books (Libris Mortis, Heroes of Horror) was a necro with one of those ghost symbionts from one of the monster manuals (or was it the fiend folio?) that can manifest itself as a face completely covering its host's face. Permanent, instantly conjurable/dismissable mask. That symbiont thing is even listed on the Dread Necromancer familiar list. Could make for a very long-lasting necromancer, as the PC's never see his true face, and he always has a getaway planned. Also, the local populace would never suspect him thanks to some crafty usage of enchantment and illusion spells, and the party paladin would find that Detect Evil senses nothing thanks to abjuration spells. Perhaps a Dread Necromancer with specialist wizard (picking Necro as a forbidden school) and some sort of prestige class that allows progression in spellcasting for two arcane classes that contain different spell lists, as well as familiar progression? Hmm . . . I think I like the idea of returning villains, especially if I can make them sufficiently sadistic and have them constantly doing things like killing children to further their goals . . .
So, am I twisted enough to be a DM?
shilsen
Adventurer
More Fun with Kids - Part I
Here's one I posted earlier but which was lost in a server crash a while ago. The events took place in an Eberron game (not the one in my sig) where the PCs had entered the Mournland. For those not having played/read about Eberron, it's an area that survived a magical cataclysm and has all sorts of weird stuff going on in it. I'll post it in 3 parts, since it's long, for ease of reading. Also, I can't take credit for all of it, since I got a lot of the elements from a great thread on Mournland horrors on the WotC Eberron boards and then wove it all together:
While traveling the group encounters a large, thick copse of vegetation. Made up of apparently healthy trees with lush foliage, surrounded by thick bushes and smaller plants, it seems completely out of place for the Mournland. As they near it, they find a white shape sticking out of the bushes at the edge of the copse. It turns out to be a statue of a kneeling woman, with arms extended in front of her, evidently made of white marble. Her expression is of mingled fear and loss, and she seems to be reaching for something that she cannot get to.
As they examine it, they begin to hear soft voices around them. They are the sounds of children, at least three and maybe more, which begin as murmurs, and then slowly turn into weeping voices, a litany of crying and the same phrases, repeated over and over. "Mother ... where are you ... I can't find you ... mother ... don't leave us ... I can't see you ... mother ... it's dark here ... we're cold ... where are you ... mother ..."
Just in case the children are alive, the PCs head into the wood, but the voices fade away. Instead, what they find are some large rags draped over the branches of a tree. Which turn out to be large shreds of skin, streaked with blood. Evidently fresh blood, as large droplets splatter on the PCs' upturned faces.
They gingerly recover the skins, which turn out to be five separate ones. Each is a single piece, as if it was literally peeled off the owner, complete with hair. They clearly belong to children, ranging in age from about four to about ten. The PCs quickly dig a grave and bury the pitiful remains, saying a prayer above them. Only to find the skins hanging from the tree again.
With no real options, the PCs retrace their steps past the statue and head away. As they leave the wooded area, the voices start up again, and though the PCs hurry their steps, the voices continue, increasing in volume and plaintiveness. After a few seconds, the volume begins to drop, though they steadily become more frantic. Finally, they turn into screams of terror and pain, moments before they fade away.
Here's one I posted earlier but which was lost in a server crash a while ago. The events took place in an Eberron game (not the one in my sig) where the PCs had entered the Mournland. For those not having played/read about Eberron, it's an area that survived a magical cataclysm and has all sorts of weird stuff going on in it. I'll post it in 3 parts, since it's long, for ease of reading. Also, I can't take credit for all of it, since I got a lot of the elements from a great thread on Mournland horrors on the WotC Eberron boards and then wove it all together:
While traveling the group encounters a large, thick copse of vegetation. Made up of apparently healthy trees with lush foliage, surrounded by thick bushes and smaller plants, it seems completely out of place for the Mournland. As they near it, they find a white shape sticking out of the bushes at the edge of the copse. It turns out to be a statue of a kneeling woman, with arms extended in front of her, evidently made of white marble. Her expression is of mingled fear and loss, and she seems to be reaching for something that she cannot get to.
As they examine it, they begin to hear soft voices around them. They are the sounds of children, at least three and maybe more, which begin as murmurs, and then slowly turn into weeping voices, a litany of crying and the same phrases, repeated over and over. "Mother ... where are you ... I can't find you ... mother ... don't leave us ... I can't see you ... mother ... it's dark here ... we're cold ... where are you ... mother ..."
Just in case the children are alive, the PCs head into the wood, but the voices fade away. Instead, what they find are some large rags draped over the branches of a tree. Which turn out to be large shreds of skin, streaked with blood. Evidently fresh blood, as large droplets splatter on the PCs' upturned faces.
They gingerly recover the skins, which turn out to be five separate ones. Each is a single piece, as if it was literally peeled off the owner, complete with hair. They clearly belong to children, ranging in age from about four to about ten. The PCs quickly dig a grave and bury the pitiful remains, saying a prayer above them. Only to find the skins hanging from the tree again.
With no real options, the PCs retrace their steps past the statue and head away. As they leave the wooded area, the voices start up again, and though the PCs hurry their steps, the voices continue, increasing in volume and plaintiveness. After a few seconds, the volume begins to drop, though they steadily become more frantic. Finally, they turn into screams of terror and pain, moments before they fade away.
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shilsen
Adventurer
More Fun with Kids - Part II
Continued from the post above...
It takes about ten minutes before one of the PCs notices something unusual about the shadows of his companions. They're now a lot smaller. Once he points it out and everyone stops to check, it takes only a little while to realize what's wrong - everyone's shadow is now the size of a shadow cast by a child. And there's a very soft murmuring coming from them, though somebody will have to crouch down close to a shadow to make it out.
When a PC does so, her questions elicit no immediate response from the shadows, but as seconds pass, the shadows fidget, even though the PCs casting them do not. For a few seconds, all of the PCs hear what seems to be laughter on the edge of their hearing. It is childish, merry laughter, but there is a strange pitch to it, whether it be nervousness, or anger, or a tinge of cruelty. It lasts for only a few seconds and then fades.
The PCs quickly discover that the shadows can move on their own, but also tend to mimic their movements, or try to. One, trying to see if his shadow dances as he does, sees it stumble and fall over, only to arise making motions as if it were crying, and all the PCs hear faint weeping. The PC hurriedly apologizes and makes a hugging motion, and the shadow moves towards him, for a fleeting instant he feels as if he touched something barely palpable, like mist or a cloud, but the sensation is quickly gone. Some of the other PCs do so too, feeling brief sets of sensations - fear, loneliness, hunger - which are quickly replaced by warmth and relief. They gradually fade, leaving only a lingering feeling of relief.
Finally, the PCs move on, the shadows following behind as normal shadows might, except for their size and the way their movements sometimes don't match that of their owners.
The next event with the child-shadows happens when the group starts walking across some rocky ground. The PCs notice that the shadows are getting torn as they pass over the ground, their edges losing little pieces and becoming ragged. They also writhe as if in pain and vainly try to stop the PCs from moving. The alarmed adventurers stop for another discussion and more futile attempts to communicate with the shadows. With no option, they continue reluctantly, seeing the shadows take more damage as they do so.
The fact that these shadows are apparently affected by the physical world to some extent is underlined again some hours later when they are passing near a brackish pool. One of the shadows passes over the edge of the water and convulses as if drowning. The owner quickly moves away and this leads to more discussion, with just as little achieved as before.
The PCs continue onwards, with the shadows taking more and more damage. They claw vainly at the feet of the people who are dragging them on, and the PCs are soon accompanied constantly by weeping and wailing, that floats at the edges of their hearing but never quite stops.
Continued from the post above...
It takes about ten minutes before one of the PCs notices something unusual about the shadows of his companions. They're now a lot smaller. Once he points it out and everyone stops to check, it takes only a little while to realize what's wrong - everyone's shadow is now the size of a shadow cast by a child. And there's a very soft murmuring coming from them, though somebody will have to crouch down close to a shadow to make it out.
When a PC does so, her questions elicit no immediate response from the shadows, but as seconds pass, the shadows fidget, even though the PCs casting them do not. For a few seconds, all of the PCs hear what seems to be laughter on the edge of their hearing. It is childish, merry laughter, but there is a strange pitch to it, whether it be nervousness, or anger, or a tinge of cruelty. It lasts for only a few seconds and then fades.
The PCs quickly discover that the shadows can move on their own, but also tend to mimic their movements, or try to. One, trying to see if his shadow dances as he does, sees it stumble and fall over, only to arise making motions as if it were crying, and all the PCs hear faint weeping. The PC hurriedly apologizes and makes a hugging motion, and the shadow moves towards him, for a fleeting instant he feels as if he touched something barely palpable, like mist or a cloud, but the sensation is quickly gone. Some of the other PCs do so too, feeling brief sets of sensations - fear, loneliness, hunger - which are quickly replaced by warmth and relief. They gradually fade, leaving only a lingering feeling of relief.
Finally, the PCs move on, the shadows following behind as normal shadows might, except for their size and the way their movements sometimes don't match that of their owners.
The next event with the child-shadows happens when the group starts walking across some rocky ground. The PCs notice that the shadows are getting torn as they pass over the ground, their edges losing little pieces and becoming ragged. They also writhe as if in pain and vainly try to stop the PCs from moving. The alarmed adventurers stop for another discussion and more futile attempts to communicate with the shadows. With no option, they continue reluctantly, seeing the shadows take more damage as they do so.
The fact that these shadows are apparently affected by the physical world to some extent is underlined again some hours later when they are passing near a brackish pool. One of the shadows passes over the edge of the water and convulses as if drowning. The owner quickly moves away and this leads to more discussion, with just as little achieved as before.
The PCs continue onwards, with the shadows taking more and more damage. They claw vainly at the feet of the people who are dragging them on, and the PCs are soon accompanied constantly by weeping and wailing, that floats at the edges of their hearing but never quite stops.
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shilsen
Adventurer
More Fun with Kids - Part III
And the last bit...
When the PCs make camp they notice that the change in the ambient light hasn't changed the color of their shadows, which remain as dark as if they were under the noonday sun. Two PCs who are best friends, Thaylar (elven) and Amaris (half-elf) take the first watch. Nothing untoward happens and when relieved, Amaris heads to bed and Thaylar slips into an elven trance. Which is when he dreams...
...he's running through knee-high mists with Amaris, sweat pouring down their faces. They've been on the run for the last day, and their companions had fallen behind. They'd cast a glance behind them, every so often, to see if it was still giving chase. It was. Every time he looks behind, it's still there. Always at the same pace, though it shouldn't be able to keep up at this speed. He says, "We have ... have to do something besides run."
And then Thaylar looks to his side and Amaris isn't there. Nothing but low-lying mist surrounds him. "Amaris!" Thaylar becomes frantic, wondering whether to go into the mists to look for Amaris, or keep moving, in case it catches up with him?
A scream erupts from behind him. The mist clears for a moment and Thaylar can make out Amaris' form, on the ground, reaching her hand out to him. "Thaylar... hel-" And then the mist washes back and Amaris' form is blotted out. She lets out another scream, this one higher... which trails off into a gurgling, incoherent death rattle.
Thaylar runs as hard as he can, tears of fear streaming down his face. The mist is getting thicker, becoming as dark as shadow, and he's having trouble navigating over obstacles in his way. He casts another glance behind, though he knows he shouldn't have. He knows it's right behind him. He feels his foot strike something hard, and he knows the sensation of falling.
Thaylar tumbles down into a ditch, landing on his back. He tries to rise and keep moving, but the pain in his lower leg makes it impossible. He can feel it out there, giggling at him. And then he sees it creeping towards him, finally emerging from the mist. He watches as the little girl pulls herself out of the mist with her arms, stumps where her legs used to be, trailing blood behind her.
He's so paralyzed with fear that he can't move. She smiles at him and four tentacles slink out of her mouth, giving an anticipatory wiggle. The tentacles slide back into her mouth and she closes it, giving her the appearance of a little girl again. She slowly pulls herself up to Thaylar's legs and then pulls herself up his body. She's cold, cold as ice.
Thaylar closes his eyes, as she pulls herself up to his chest. And then he can feel her moving higher. He feels his face being stroked and a cold breath on his face. It smells of death and putrefaction. Against his will, he opens his eyes one last time, gazing into those of the creature holding his face. She gives him the grin of an innocent child ... and then holds up a hand. As he watches, the nails expand till they are as big as daggers, cutting his cheek as they do, and he can feel the warm blood on his skin. The child leans forward, the tongues sliding out of her mouth, as she slowly licks her way up his cheek.
He shudders, too far gone to even scream, and closes his eyes again. The child leans forward, putting her lips to his ear, and as she does, though he cannot see it, he feels her body change. The skin sloughs off it, leaving only slick, blood-covered muscle and flesh, pressed tightly against his. The lips touch his ear softly, and there is one, endless moment of anticipation before she whispers...
"Play with me"
Thaylar wakes up screaming, startling those on watch and awaking the others. He has a second of relief, as he realizes that it was just a dream (along with the split-second thought, "How did I have a dream?"), and then he realizes something. The dream has not completely faded. He can still feel the child's body pressed against his - under his blanket.
Thaylar rises to his feet without any evident physical action, actually rising off the ground for a second, screaming at the top of his lungs and desperately flailing away the blanket. Beneath it, just as he felt, is the skinless child, with its clawed arms and bloody stumps wrapped tightly against him. As he desperately shoves it away, screaming, "Get it off! Get it off! Get it OFFFFF!!!", it smiles, showing long fangs and the split tongue, and then sinks its claws into his side.
Seeing the strange sight, the other PCs are in the process of charging to his aid, when they suddenly find another such child attached to each of them, biting and clawing viciously. The resultant battle is short and bloody. The strange creatures are much stronger than their size would indicate, using claws and teeth with the power of a warrior swinging a sword, and move with surprising speed on their bloody stumps. Their skinless bodies are surprisingly tough and they apparently have a limited form of regeneration, their wounds closing slowly.
When a PC finally manages to kill one of them, its form changes into that of a normal child, perhaps eight years old, except that it is naked and bears all the wounds that have just been inflicted on it. As it hits the ground, it fades away. As do the other 'children' one by one as they are slain, leaving behind only faint sobbing on the breeze.
* At the end of the session, Thaylar's player said, "You sick bastard - how do you sleep at night?" That's probably the nicest thing a player ever said to me
And the last bit...
When the PCs make camp they notice that the change in the ambient light hasn't changed the color of their shadows, which remain as dark as if they were under the noonday sun. Two PCs who are best friends, Thaylar (elven) and Amaris (half-elf) take the first watch. Nothing untoward happens and when relieved, Amaris heads to bed and Thaylar slips into an elven trance. Which is when he dreams...
...he's running through knee-high mists with Amaris, sweat pouring down their faces. They've been on the run for the last day, and their companions had fallen behind. They'd cast a glance behind them, every so often, to see if it was still giving chase. It was. Every time he looks behind, it's still there. Always at the same pace, though it shouldn't be able to keep up at this speed. He says, "We have ... have to do something besides run."
And then Thaylar looks to his side and Amaris isn't there. Nothing but low-lying mist surrounds him. "Amaris!" Thaylar becomes frantic, wondering whether to go into the mists to look for Amaris, or keep moving, in case it catches up with him?
A scream erupts from behind him. The mist clears for a moment and Thaylar can make out Amaris' form, on the ground, reaching her hand out to him. "Thaylar... hel-" And then the mist washes back and Amaris' form is blotted out. She lets out another scream, this one higher... which trails off into a gurgling, incoherent death rattle.
Thaylar runs as hard as he can, tears of fear streaming down his face. The mist is getting thicker, becoming as dark as shadow, and he's having trouble navigating over obstacles in his way. He casts another glance behind, though he knows he shouldn't have. He knows it's right behind him. He feels his foot strike something hard, and he knows the sensation of falling.
Thaylar tumbles down into a ditch, landing on his back. He tries to rise and keep moving, but the pain in his lower leg makes it impossible. He can feel it out there, giggling at him. And then he sees it creeping towards him, finally emerging from the mist. He watches as the little girl pulls herself out of the mist with her arms, stumps where her legs used to be, trailing blood behind her.
He's so paralyzed with fear that he can't move. She smiles at him and four tentacles slink out of her mouth, giving an anticipatory wiggle. The tentacles slide back into her mouth and she closes it, giving her the appearance of a little girl again. She slowly pulls herself up to Thaylar's legs and then pulls herself up his body. She's cold, cold as ice.
Thaylar closes his eyes, as she pulls herself up to his chest. And then he can feel her moving higher. He feels his face being stroked and a cold breath on his face. It smells of death and putrefaction. Against his will, he opens his eyes one last time, gazing into those of the creature holding his face. She gives him the grin of an innocent child ... and then holds up a hand. As he watches, the nails expand till they are as big as daggers, cutting his cheek as they do, and he can feel the warm blood on his skin. The child leans forward, the tongues sliding out of her mouth, as she slowly licks her way up his cheek.
He shudders, too far gone to even scream, and closes his eyes again. The child leans forward, putting her lips to his ear, and as she does, though he cannot see it, he feels her body change. The skin sloughs off it, leaving only slick, blood-covered muscle and flesh, pressed tightly against his. The lips touch his ear softly, and there is one, endless moment of anticipation before she whispers...
"Play with me"
Thaylar wakes up screaming, startling those on watch and awaking the others. He has a second of relief, as he realizes that it was just a dream (along with the split-second thought, "How did I have a dream?"), and then he realizes something. The dream has not completely faded. He can still feel the child's body pressed against his - under his blanket.
Thaylar rises to his feet without any evident physical action, actually rising off the ground for a second, screaming at the top of his lungs and desperately flailing away the blanket. Beneath it, just as he felt, is the skinless child, with its clawed arms and bloody stumps wrapped tightly against him. As he desperately shoves it away, screaming, "Get it off! Get it off! Get it OFFFFF!!!", it smiles, showing long fangs and the split tongue, and then sinks its claws into his side.
Seeing the strange sight, the other PCs are in the process of charging to his aid, when they suddenly find another such child attached to each of them, biting and clawing viciously. The resultant battle is short and bloody. The strange creatures are much stronger than their size would indicate, using claws and teeth with the power of a warrior swinging a sword, and move with surprising speed on their bloody stumps. Their skinless bodies are surprisingly tough and they apparently have a limited form of regeneration, their wounds closing slowly.
When a PC finally manages to kill one of them, its form changes into that of a normal child, perhaps eight years old, except that it is naked and bears all the wounds that have just been inflicted on it. As it hits the ground, it fades away. As do the other 'children' one by one as they are slain, leaving behind only faint sobbing on the breeze.
* At the end of the session, Thaylar's player said, "You sick bastard - how do you sleep at night?" That's probably the nicest thing a player ever said to me
*starts taking notes*
I think I need to watch the Ring and the Grudge a few more times for inspirations . . .
If my D&D group is ever foolish enough to allow me to DM for them, I'll probably freak them out beyond letting me DM again within one or two sessions because of this thread.
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Keep them coming.
I think I need to watch the Ring and the Grudge a few more times for inspirations . . .
If my D&D group is ever foolish enough to allow me to DM for them, I'll probably freak them out beyond letting me DM again within one or two sessions because of this thread.
Keep them coming.
tombshroud
Explorer
Upcoming Halloween season got anyone thinking creepy?
With the upcoming Halloween season and the Halloween movie remake I'm getting in the mood for some creepy adventures. Anyone come up w/ more ways to creep players out?
With the upcoming Halloween season and the Halloween movie remake I'm getting in the mood for some creepy adventures. Anyone come up w/ more ways to creep players out?
jdrakeh
Front Range Warlock
My friend Chad ran a great Deadlands: Hell on Earth one-shot where myself and a GMNPC (he played fair) infiltrated an abandoned military bunker to salvage bullets, MREs, etc. Above ground, there was just one small-ish building housing a garage and an office. A non-functioning elevator and a stairwell led to levels below.
IIRC, there were ten levels in all, with the generator and armory being on the lowest level. The intervening levels housed some useless research labs. . . and a small-scale production facility for those robotic terrors in Hell on Earth (I forget what they're called). Anyhow, the whole place was pretty much empty except for the armory, the few dozen deactivated robots, and the garage. Which presented a problem. . .
Multiple boxes full of live ammunition are heavy, see? To say nothing of the weapons we found. We decided that powering up the generator to use the elevator would be the prudent course of action, seeing as how we had a limited amount of time to get back to our enclave with the goods due for. . . reasons I forget in my age. So we powered up the generator, got the elevator working, and took several loads up to the garage where we piled them in a jeep.
On the last trip, we did another sweep of the facility to make certain that we weren't missing anything. . . and noticed that two of the robotic death dealers were missing from the production facility. Right about the time that the generator gave out and the lights went down again. So there we were, trapped some six levels underground, with two Terminator-like nasties on the loose.
What began as a pretty run-of-the-mill scavenging expedition turned into a full-on gauntlet run, as we tried to make our way to the surface. We had a running battle with the robot-things which took us down to near dead (the GMNPC was hemorraging blood like a water fountain by the time we got to the second level of the facility). Luckily, some quick thinking and the application of a few grenades collapsed the stairwell and trapped the cybernetic killers below us. Or so we thought.
We had (wrongly) assumed that both robotic sentries were hunting us in the dark.
We stopped to patch up the best we could, though Johann (the GMNPC) wasn't looking well. So, dragging my wounded mate on a makeshift stretcher, I opened the door to freedom -- only to see the other robotic sentry lurking in the garage. He immediately splattered me on the gargage wall. I wasn't dead, but I could feel the life running out of me. My now nearly dead partner had one last grenade on him. So he did what any man would do. He pulled the pin and. . .
Took a bullet right in the face.
Which left a live grenade at my feet.
And I wasn't in much shape to do anything about it.
Despite dying a horribly bloody death, I can honestly say that the atmosphere, the pacing, and everything else was carried out expertly. This was one of my favorite game sessions ever.
IIRC, there were ten levels in all, with the generator and armory being on the lowest level. The intervening levels housed some useless research labs. . . and a small-scale production facility for those robotic terrors in Hell on Earth (I forget what they're called). Anyhow, the whole place was pretty much empty except for the armory, the few dozen deactivated robots, and the garage. Which presented a problem. . .
Multiple boxes full of live ammunition are heavy, see? To say nothing of the weapons we found. We decided that powering up the generator to use the elevator would be the prudent course of action, seeing as how we had a limited amount of time to get back to our enclave with the goods due for. . . reasons I forget in my age. So we powered up the generator, got the elevator working, and took several loads up to the garage where we piled them in a jeep.
On the last trip, we did another sweep of the facility to make certain that we weren't missing anything. . . and noticed that two of the robotic death dealers were missing from the production facility. Right about the time that the generator gave out and the lights went down again. So there we were, trapped some six levels underground, with two Terminator-like nasties on the loose.
What began as a pretty run-of-the-mill scavenging expedition turned into a full-on gauntlet run, as we tried to make our way to the surface. We had a running battle with the robot-things which took us down to near dead (the GMNPC was hemorraging blood like a water fountain by the time we got to the second level of the facility). Luckily, some quick thinking and the application of a few grenades collapsed the stairwell and trapped the cybernetic killers below us. Or so we thought.
We had (wrongly) assumed that both robotic sentries were hunting us in the dark.
We stopped to patch up the best we could, though Johann (the GMNPC) wasn't looking well. So, dragging my wounded mate on a makeshift stretcher, I opened the door to freedom -- only to see the other robotic sentry lurking in the garage. He immediately splattered me on the gargage wall. I wasn't dead, but I could feel the life running out of me. My now nearly dead partner had one last grenade on him. So he did what any man would do. He pulled the pin and. . .
Took a bullet right in the face.
Which left a live grenade at my feet.
And I wasn't in much shape to do anything about it.
Despite dying a horribly bloody death, I can honestly say that the atmosphere, the pacing, and everything else was carried out expertly. This was one of my favorite game sessions ever.
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