Love for the Roper?
- Thread starter Garnfellow
- Start date
Garnfellow
Explorer
Raelcreve said:
Did they call it a roper?
Garnfellow
Explorer
mmadsen said:
mmadsen said:
No, no . . . I'm right there with you.
In fact, when I was brainstorming some alternate names for the roper, I came up with several that echoed the "watcher in the water," some of which I chucked because they were too close: the watcher in darkness, the watcher in the deep, the watcher of Ghaunadaur . . .
A couple of the more promising ideas I've been kicking around: the hungering stones, the children of the eye. None have really clicked yet, though I think I'm getting close to something good. I'm trying to nail a nice, euphemistic name in the Lovecraft tradition.
Olgar Shiverstone
Legend
Mmmm ... ropers. The party bypassed the one in FoF with the help of burning oil and a dead gnome; maybe it's time for a rematch.
*considers a Roper encounter for his next game session*
*considers a Roper encounter for his next game session*
Plane Sailing
Astral Admin - Mwahahaha!
Richards said:
The original ones did, back in Strategic Review, and they always have in mind since then
Garnfellow
Explorer
A little background music
I've been doodling around with this background text, yoinking in a few ideas that have been posted here, trying to get the right elements together in just the right combination. I'm convinced we have all the raw materials to make the roper a scary monster: nasty game stats, check. Underdark, check. Cthulhu vibe, check.
Watcher in the Darkness (Lesser Servitor Race)
By many names, on countless divers worlds, are they known. Adventurers from the sunlit realms have sometimes called them ropers out of ignorance. St'ganoi, the most common term for them in Undercommon, is a close cognate to the word st'gunas, which means "a dire warning," and indicates the proper deference given to these creatures by those who actually dwell far beneath the surface of the earth. The dwarves named them the Kharadrem, the Hungering-Stones; the Kuo-Toa, the Oolthrips, the Eaters, and the drow, the Quorlothim, the Watchers in the Darkness. The utter lack of consensus is perhaps due to the fact that, if the Watchers themselves have a preferred name by which they would be called, they do not give voice to it.
The dwarves, perhaps the first surface race to explore the deep, sunless realms, were shocked to find there evidence of prior inhabitants—most dramatically in the form of entire cities, cities that had been abandoned for centuries, perhaps even eons. The streets of those alien cities were silent, the buildings empty. No clues remained of either the identity or fate of the builders of those cities. Only the alien architecture—strange, twisted designs soaring up in the darkness, constructed out of oily stones of unknown origin—suggested the inhuman nature of the absent builders. And ringing all around these cities were caverns, countless caverns filled with clutches of Watchers, the only living things for miles about.
And these Watchers were waiting, patiently waiting in the darkness—but for what, no one knew. Nor did anyone know why the Watchers were clustered near the cities. Had the Watchers destroyed the inhabitants? Were the Watchers some strange descendants of the builders? Or were the Watchers once a servant race of the inhabitants, and now the only survivors of some ancient cataclysm? If the Watchers knew, they did not say.
The dwarves, of course, razed those alien cities to the ground, sometimes collapsing entire caverns to obliterate all evidence of their very existences—disgusted by the cities' alien nature and perhaps fearful that the builders might someday return. But though they tried, the dwarves could not eradicate all of the Watchers.
Shortly afterwards, the dark elves, following their ignominious defeat on the surface, fled down into the darkness, and their already diminished numbers were then winnowed away even further by the many horrors they met deep beneath the earth. And of all those horrors, perhaps none proved more devastating than the Watchers in Darkness, which fed well on those piteous elvish refugees, who were in disarray and completely unprepared for such a threat.
The beholders, whose knowledge of such matters spans many worlds, and the illithids, whose knowledge spans many epochs and perhaps even many realities, were both surprised to find Watchers placed in the deep realms of so many different worlds. And on each of these worlds, the Watchers wait, to unknown purpose.
The wicked races of the sunless realms greatly fear and respect the Watchers in the Darkness, and many have noticed an unmistakable likeness between the Watchers and certain foul representations of an ancient, dark, and baleful power said to lurk in the deepest places of the earth. And so the Watchers in Darkness are venerated by several vile and detestable cults, their caverns considered to be sacred ground. And so the Watchers are given many sacrifices of live victims to appease their ceaseless hunger. But it is unclear if the Watchers understand or appreciate these gifts, as they appear just as content to devour a careless cultist as they are a bound slave.
I've been doodling around with this background text, yoinking in a few ideas that have been posted here, trying to get the right elements together in just the right combination. I'm convinced we have all the raw materials to make the roper a scary monster: nasty game stats, check. Underdark, check. Cthulhu vibe, check.
Watcher in the Darkness (Lesser Servitor Race)
By many names, on countless divers worlds, are they known. Adventurers from the sunlit realms have sometimes called them ropers out of ignorance. St'ganoi, the most common term for them in Undercommon, is a close cognate to the word st'gunas, which means "a dire warning," and indicates the proper deference given to these creatures by those who actually dwell far beneath the surface of the earth. The dwarves named them the Kharadrem, the Hungering-Stones; the Kuo-Toa, the Oolthrips, the Eaters, and the drow, the Quorlothim, the Watchers in the Darkness. The utter lack of consensus is perhaps due to the fact that, if the Watchers themselves have a preferred name by which they would be called, they do not give voice to it.
The dwarves, perhaps the first surface race to explore the deep, sunless realms, were shocked to find there evidence of prior inhabitants—most dramatically in the form of entire cities, cities that had been abandoned for centuries, perhaps even eons. The streets of those alien cities were silent, the buildings empty. No clues remained of either the identity or fate of the builders of those cities. Only the alien architecture—strange, twisted designs soaring up in the darkness, constructed out of oily stones of unknown origin—suggested the inhuman nature of the absent builders. And ringing all around these cities were caverns, countless caverns filled with clutches of Watchers, the only living things for miles about.
And these Watchers were waiting, patiently waiting in the darkness—but for what, no one knew. Nor did anyone know why the Watchers were clustered near the cities. Had the Watchers destroyed the inhabitants? Were the Watchers some strange descendants of the builders? Or were the Watchers once a servant race of the inhabitants, and now the only survivors of some ancient cataclysm? If the Watchers knew, they did not say.
The dwarves, of course, razed those alien cities to the ground, sometimes collapsing entire caverns to obliterate all evidence of their very existences—disgusted by the cities' alien nature and perhaps fearful that the builders might someday return. But though they tried, the dwarves could not eradicate all of the Watchers.
Shortly afterwards, the dark elves, following their ignominious defeat on the surface, fled down into the darkness, and their already diminished numbers were then winnowed away even further by the many horrors they met deep beneath the earth. And of all those horrors, perhaps none proved more devastating than the Watchers in Darkness, which fed well on those piteous elvish refugees, who were in disarray and completely unprepared for such a threat.
The beholders, whose knowledge of such matters spans many worlds, and the illithids, whose knowledge spans many epochs and perhaps even many realities, were both surprised to find Watchers placed in the deep realms of so many different worlds. And on each of these worlds, the Watchers wait, to unknown purpose.
The wicked races of the sunless realms greatly fear and respect the Watchers in the Darkness, and many have noticed an unmistakable likeness between the Watchers and certain foul representations of an ancient, dark, and baleful power said to lurk in the deepest places of the earth. And so the Watchers in Darkness are venerated by several vile and detestable cults, their caverns considered to be sacred ground. And so the Watchers are given many sacrifices of live victims to appease their ceaseless hunger. But it is unclear if the Watchers understand or appreciate these gifts, as they appear just as content to devour a careless cultist as they are a bound slave.
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