Mnemovore Worms and Phantasmal Plants

In the year 1837, a short paper was read by me before the Geological Society of London, “On the Formation of Mould,” in which it was shown that small fragments of burnt marl, cinders, &c., which had been thickly strewed over the surface of several meadows, were found after a few years lying at the depth of some inches beneath the turf, but still forming a layer.  This apparent sinking of superficial bodies is due, as was first suggested to me by Mr. Wedgwood of Maer Hall in Staffordshire, to the large quantity of fine earth continually brought up to the surface by worms in the form of castings.  These castings are sooner or later spread out and cover up any object left on the surface.  I was thus led to conclude that all the vegetable mould over the whole country has passed many times through, and will again pass many times through, the intestinal canals of worms.  Hence the term “animal mould” would be in some respects more appropriate than that commonly used of “vegetable mould.”

-Charles Darwin, The Formation of Vegetable Mould through the Action of Worms, 1881

 

The world of the jinn is like a translucent layer atop mortal reality, where those made of smokeless fire and other spirits are always unhidden. But, if one with eyes unclouded were to peer into this layer, in addition to the monstrous forms of shimmering spirits, they would see something else: a thin and somewhat mushy layer of what looks like softly glowing dirt. A field of this substance, spirit dirt or memory mold, blankets the world of the jinn, a thin layer even abounding on human architecture and statuary, and on the shoulders of those who bathe (either with water or sand) very infrequently. This humus (not hummus!!) is the product of one of the perhaps most humble subjects of the realm of spirits, the mnemovore worm.

 

Mnemovore Worm

Number Encountered: 2d4 OR 1 swarm

Hit Dice: 1 hit point OR 1+1 HD for a swarm
Attacks: 1 mental bore OR 6 mental bores (when in a swarm) (see below)

Armor: none

Morale: 4 

Mental Bore: Mnemovore worms leap up from the spirit dirt and pass straight through their victim's skull in search of their quarry: memories. The target must save vs. wands or forget something, determined at random:

Roll 1d12:

1. A memory from their youth. 
2. An event from a month previous.
3. An event from a week previous.
4. An event from the day previous.
5. An NPC the party has worked with (this can include hirelings).
6. How to exit the dungeon or how to find their way back home.
7. How to use one of their weapons (disadvantage on to-hit rolls, removed after familiarity returns 1d6 attacks with the weapon later).
8. Ability with a skill or power other than spellcasting (disadvantage on rolls with said skill, removed after familiarity returns 1d10 attempts later).
9. 1 prepared spell (they don't forget the spell completely, they just no longer have it prepared that day; if a non-spellcaster, re-roll).
10. Knowledge of 1 spell entirely (would have to seek out a teacher to re-learn the spell; if a non-spellcaster, re-roll).
11. Ability with a language (bumped down from fluency (if they could write the language, they lose that completely); if rolled a second time (3rd if they could read and write), they no longer speak that language).
12. An aspect of their personality (re-roll INT, WIS, or CHA, determined at random). 

Psychic Attraction: Mnemovore worms are attracted to magic-users, especially higher-level magic-users, as well as charismatic leaders. If a character has 15+ CHA or 3+ spells memorized, roll 1 die size higher on the wandering monster table (so d8 instead of d6, etc.); any results above 6 will be encounters with mnemovore worms. If a character has 6+ spells memorized, roll 2 die sizes higher (so d10 instead of d6, etc.).

Spirit: As spirits, mnemovore worms are immune to damage from mundane weapons. They take damage from magic, heated up silver weapons, intelligent swords, and the attacks of jinn. They can pass through clothing, armor, and flesh as if it wasn't even there, but cannot pass through walls. They can only be seen by jinn or by those with eyes unclouded.

 

Mnemovore worms are a crucial part of the spiritual-magical-mental ecosystem. They are the primary cause for forgetfulness, saving human brains from being overloaded with too much information. And, though humble and small, these little worms are one of the things keeping wizards in check. There are more than a few stories of sorcerer-tyrants from ages past steaming themselves to death in specially constructed silver contraptions heated with boiling water in order to keep the mnemovores out.

 

Memories enter a mnemovore worm through the mouth, and exit as spirit dirt. This memory-based mass serves as the fertile ground for all sorts of phantasmal plants which populate the realm of the jinn. While jinn generally (hehe, jinnerally) eat the same grains and meats that humans do (albeit generally restricted only to what is left over uneaten by humankind), they supplement their diets with such spectral produce. Phantasmal plants are also used by the jinn as medicine, and a gift of ghost-root or invisible leaf (or even the intel to know where a copse of such plants grows) is a reward a jinn may give to an ally, friend, or master.

 

A selection of phantasmal plants from below: a fishroot, a crawling scaletree, some grasping fragrances, some thief's eyes, and a wilting faint

 

1d12 Phantasmal Plants

1. Crawling Scaletree: A race of ancient antediluvian tree with bark like reptile's scales and thin needles on its branches. Ever since going extinct their ghostly forms crawl across the spirit-dirt aimlessly. 
2. Fishroot: From the surface of the memory mold, appears as a mass of long pale fronds, but when uprooted, its wriggling eyeless fish form is revealed. The fronds can be eaten to cure stomach ailments, despite its astringent bitter taste. The fish-like root has a fatty liver that can be rubbed on weapons to make them temporarily phase between worlds. 
3. Ghost Ginkgo: Strangely enough, ginkgo trees span the divide between worlds. Their foul-smelling fruits have no uses, but their seeds and leaves can cure lung and kidney illness. These eastern trees are only known over here in the menageries of sorcerers and nobles. 
4. Ghostgrass: Tall stretches of softly glowing pale green grass, gently swaying in the nonexistent breeze. Causes mysterious feelings of cold when passed through, whether one can see the grass or not. 
5. Grasping Fragrance: Sprouting directly out of the spirit dirt, grasping fragrances reach for those who pass, hoping to attach onto them and spread their fragrance (the means by which they reproduce) far and wide. Smelling the wrist of a grasping fragrance cures paralysis. 
6. Hedgehog Herb: Only visible in the realm of men and beasts during the full moon, and very few even know what it looks like then. When its leaves are rubbed on metal locks, it corrodes them.
7. Pillarwife: About five-foot tall pale trunks that ooze a salty sap when cut. Very confused deer and goats gather around the sites of phantasmal pillarwives without being able to find where the salt lick actually is. 
8. Prickly Marid: A rebellious plant that does anything it can to not be cut, squirming out of the way of blades. Its stalks can be brewed into a tea: drinking it causes blindness, while pouring it on petrified flesh un-petrifies it (and the reverse for un-petrified flesh). 
9. Sprouting Id: A thorny bush with a single bright red flower at its apex. When picked and made into a tea, it brings out the worst, most base aspect in the drinker. 
10. Thief's Eyes: A plant that spans the jinn's world and the world of men and beasts, with eyes clouded it appears as thin stalks tipped by eye-shaped berries, while in the spirit world these eyes are surrounded by ghostly ghoulish faces. When eaten causes hidden gold to glow in one's vision for 1 hour. 
11. Vengeful Father: A sprouting bush that superficially looks like a laid-out dead body. It produces juicy brightly-colored fruit, sweet-smelling and sweet-tasting, that (when the skin is broken) painfully lash out with knife-sharp edges of its inside flesh. 
12. Wilting Faint: Its petals form a vaguely humanoid outline, one arm held across the "forehead" as if fainting. If eaten, induces fainting, but its scent breaks fevers.

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It took everything in my power to not call them ectoplasmic worms a la Noroi or Senritsu Kaiki File Kowasugi (check those out if you're at all interested in Japanese horror films, Koji Shiraishi is the GOAT). While the above is written with King of Kings in mind, I intend on incorporating the mnemovore worms into other game settings, namely Gamma Ohio or modern horror like the short mini-campaign using Underneath that I made one post about a couple years back. I really gotta get around to cleaning up my notes from that campaign and putting them up here, modern horror TTRPGs is something I'd like to do more with! Anywho, keep your heated silver ready if you've got a lot of thoughts bangin' around up there, and see you next time!

Wasserdämonen des Landes der Dunkelheit (Three Monsters (and Two Lairs) for King of Kings)

Lake Blut, nestled in the northern foothills of the World's Edge Mountains, is a dangerous body of water. The northern barbarians that dwell on its shore warn their children to steer clear of the water, lest they be snatched and eaten by Der Blutschink, an unclean spirit of the lake that thrives on blood. Even adults are wary whenever they must venture across the fog-shrouded waters to fish or attend to the shrine on the other side. The Land of Darkness is home to many terrible things, and in this corner of it, that means this bloody demon of the water.

 

Der Blutschink

Number Encountered: 1

Hit Dice: 8

Attacks: 2 claw (1d6) + 1 bite (1d8)

Armor: as leather + shield

Morale: 9

Bloodsucking: The Blutschink thrives on the blood of lively humans. If a claw attack and bite attack successfully hit the same target, he grabs hold of them and latches his sharp teeth onto their body to suck their blood. He continues to hold onto them, draining 1d6 HP per round, until the victim is pulled out of his grasp. While sucking the victim's blood, the Blutschink can only make 1 claw attack to any other target. The Blutschink will never suck the blood of anyone that is currently ill or the victim of a curse, or any Froglings or Elves. He loves sucking the blood of children.

Collection: The Blutschink collects together the bones and baubles of his victims in a pile hidden in the vicinity of his lake. He often constructs elaborate towers out of the bones.

Resistances: The Blutschink is immune to damage from mundane weapons. He is only harmed by magical weapons and weapons made from gold. 

Swallow: If the Blutschink brings an opponent down to 1 HP by sucking their blood, the next attack (if it successfully hits) instead results in the Blutschink crushing them into a condensed shape and swallowing them whole.

Trap-Setting: The Blutschink sets traps made from vines and roots around the edge of his lake to ensnare any victims who venture too close to the shore. 

 

Der Blutschink appears as a dark-furred bear with snaggly mismatched fangs, long arms that hang at his sides, and human legs constantly dripping with blood. His snout, buried deep in the guts of his victims, is always caked with blood, dripping down onto his chest and arms. Der Blutschink's presence is always apparent from the slowly spreading swirls of blood that seep through the water of Lake Blut as he wades through. He can speak, but he is a child-eating water demon of few words, mostly growling, grunting, and pitifully mewling. And, ultimately, he cannot be pacified or placated; at certain points in the history of Bairglyana, town on the shores of Lake Blut, frenzied prophets have begun programs of regular child-sacrifice to stave off the beast, but, like, well, a bear getting used to human food and venturing further into civilization, this only made him hunger more (and so, such schemes were abandoned). For as long as anyone can remember, Der Blutschink has haunted the lake and devoured the occasional child or fisherman that ventured just far enough away from the lights of the village.

 

That is, until now.

 

Vodyanoy in three of his forms

In recent days, another water demon has taken residence in Lake Blut, and seems poised to evict the lake's longtime residence entirely. Vodyanoy, "He from the Water," the many-bodied but of one mind amphibious shapeshifter whose presence is steadily expanding across the many lakes, rivers, and streams of the Land of Darkness, has arrived. In his base form, Vodyanoy appears as a fleshy frog-like humanoid with long drooping facial hair, usually wearing a wide-brimmed hat made from sedges and clothing made of algae and water lilies. When he arrives in a new body of water, the deepest hole in the bottom of the lake becomes a doorway to his half-sunken home, where him and his wife Vodyanitsa collect the souls of drowning victims in clay jars. A wannabe lesser god, Vodyanoy (who is himself subject to Tir, also known as the star Sirius, the god of rain) sets up shop in a new lake or river and makes a nuisance of himself, dragging sheep and cows and children beneath the waves and blocking up waterwheels to pressure the locals to make offerings of butter and honeycomb (his two favorite foods). He upholds his end of the bargain, though; as the owner of all the freshwater fishes, he provides for bounteous catches, and even exerts some influence on the beehives to keep the flow of honey going. And it would seem that Vodyanoy, that selfish godling, and his wife Vodyanitsa have set their sights on Bairglyana to expand their sphere of influence. And Der Blutschink is in the way; can't have two water demons haunting the same lake, now can you?

 

Vodyanoy 

Number Encountered: 1

Hit Dice: 6+1

Attacks: 2 attacks of varying type (see below) (1d6)

Armor: as leather

Morale: 9
Catfish Mount: The Vodyanoy often rides upon an oversized wels catfish (2 HD, 1 bite attack (1d6), armor as leather, can't move on land).

Drowning: Vodyanoy will attempt to drown targets if they get too close to the water. A target must make a save vs. paralysis or be dragged under the water and drown within 1d8 combat rounds. 

Many Instances: There is only one Vodyanoy, but he appears in many instances across many lakes and rivers in the Land of Darkness. The only way to kill Vodyanoy would be to eliminate all of his instances, but there are too many to count. At best, he can only be dispelled from a given body of water.

Offerings: Vodyanoy is placated by offerings of melted butter, cooking oil, honey and honeycombs, and live sheep or cattle.

Owner of Fish: All fish and other freshwater animals in the Land of Darkness are understood to be "owned" by Vodyanoy. He has uncanny influence over them, and can call forth up to 20 HD of freshwater animals per day. He especially favors eels, catfish, and frogs.

Resistances and Weaknesses: Vodyanoy is immune to damage from mundane weapons. He is only harmed by magical weapons and weapons made from gold. He is afraid of fire; all fire effects deal +1 damage. He is also dissuaded by the sign of Par (the god Truth as misunderstood by the northern forest-dwelling barbarians).

Shapeshifting: The Vodyanoy can take on a variety of forms. These include: his base, frog-like humanoid form; a soaking wet fat peasant man; a large freshwater fish; a floating log; or a floating tree trunk with wings that allows him to fly short distances. The mode of his attack changes with his form (so in his peasant form he attacks with farm tools, slams against his target in his log form, etc.). 

 

Vodyanitsa, Vodyanoy's wife, is a rusalka, the lingering presence of a young woman who drowned herself because of an unhappy marriage (or, in some cases, was drowned by her conniving husband-widower). Rusalki look like pallid young women with long, wild, unbraided hair flowing down from their heads, wide eyes and lips the color of drowning. Their heads are oft adorned with sedges and wilted roses. They linger on lakeshores and clamber up in the trees, becoming undying spirits of the waters of the forests. Not all rusalki are murderers, but many are; and, as spirits of the gentle waters, they kill mostly indirectly, with exhaustion and suffocation. The most vengeful rusalki call men (mostly men) out into the waters to drown them. A rusalka will dissipate if her hateful husband is killed (or, if he is already dead, if his grave is at least desecrated), but most take too much delight in their new un-lives to want that resolution. And there is, of course, always the risk that with the rusalka of a given river dispelled, the river itself will trickle away to nothing. The kindest rusalki often watch over the rivers that feed cities of thousands; and it would be a truly evil design to get justice for these souls.

 

Vodyanitsa is much happier with her new husband than she ever was while she was alive. Unlike Vodyanoy, there is only one Vodyanitsa (in mind and in body), and whenever she leaves their subaquatic home for a specific lake or river her husband inhabits, that Vodyanitsa is the real one.

I just really wanted to find a place for this illustration of a nix, more or less the German equivalent of a rusalka. One of my favorite pictures ever!!

Rusalka

Number Encountered: 1d12

Hit Dice: 3+1

Attacks: 1 forced dance OR 1 tickle OR 1 drown (see below)

Armor: none

Morale: 8

Drowning: When in water, a rusalka will attempt to draw her victim out and then drag them below, tying up their legs in her long hair. A target must make a save vs. paralysis or be dragged under the water and drown within 1d8 combat rounds.

Forced Dancing: When outside of water, a rusalka can point at a target and force them to begin dancing on a failed save. They will keep dancing until either they collapse from exhaustion or a spell frees them from her grasp.

Tickling: A rusalka can tickle someone to death. The target must save or succumb to laughter and be unable to act that turn; three failed saves and the victim's heart gives out and they die. A target who has collapsed from exhaustion (see above) dies immediately if a rusalka tickles them.

Turning: As undead, rusalki can be turned by priests of Truth. However, during the festival of roses (a week in the month of Thaigrasihr), they are immune to turning. During that time, they are especially bold.

 

Der Blutschink's island

While Der Blutschink does not sleep, he does have a lair, a little island where he collects together the refuse from his devouring and where he goes to just mope. Recently, especially with Vodyanoy's arrival (which Der Blutschink is well aware of), he has been very morose and hopeless. He still hunts for children to suck the blood of and eat, but he just doesn't feel with it anymore. It seems to him that the writing is on the wall, and the era of Der Blutschink may genuinely be at an end. When he is encountered, a reaction roll, rather than providing a range of results from hostile to friendly, is instead from whether he is angry and lashing out to moping and despondent. During the day, there is a 4-in-6 chance that Der Blutschink is in his island lair; at night, a 2-in-6 chance. His lair is covered with elaborate towers made from human bones and pieces of clothing, including some treasure. There is a 2-in-6 chance of a tower having a bauble or piece of jewelry worth 1d6x20 drachmae on it (these aren't an especially rich people). If Der Blutschink is angry while in his lair, he will lash out and knock over these towers, scattering their contents everywhere. Der Blutschink, despite his communication difficulties and thirst for blood, would greatly appreciate any attempt to remove Vodyanoy from Lake Blut. He has never been offered help before.

 

Vodyanoy and Vodyanitsa's apartment. 1: Entrance chamber, 2: Main room, 3: Collection of souls in clay jars, 4: Pantry.

Vodyanoy and Vodyanitsa's underwater apartment can be found at the bottom of a whirlpool on the eastern side of the lake. There is a 2-in-6 chance at any time that Vodyanoy is in the apartment, and a 4-in-6 chance that Vodyanitsa is. Entering the lair is simple: allow yourself to get sucked down the whirlpool. However, if one or both of the pair of water demons are in the apartment when you enter, they will immediately know. The safest bet would be waiting until you know that both of them are lurking on the lake; Vodyanoy is the harder to spot of the two, but Vodyanitsa sings a plaintive song. 

 

Their apartment is comparatively small, with walls directly carved out of rock and dirt, water dripping and roots hanging from the ceiling. The main room has a large rug in Shahanistani style (now long watterlogged) on the floor, and several sitting/sleeping cushions stuffed with leaves along with a low-lying table or workbench. The walls are festooned with racks of kitchen utensils and household tools, as well as a shelf of twine and pieces of forest plants. A side room has walls lined with shelves holding clay jars with the souls of drowning victims (a few are actually the souls of drowned animals!). These jars are labeled with a name and their date of death. If the jar is opened or broken apart, the soul will release itself and its ghostly presence will, for one time only, assist the one who freed it. A large pantry next to the soul-room holds jars of honey and butter and crusts of bread.

 

Vodyanoy and Vodyanitsa would be greatly appreciative of any assistance in ousting Der Blutschink from the lake. They are rather self-important, but they understand when a deal must be struck; unlike Der Blutschink, they have experience in doing deals with mortals. Vodyanoy will promise gifts of items imbued with his power to those who promise to help him. These will primarily take the form of simple things woven from sedges that have control over freshwater animals. He can also provide gold coins, but these will reveal themselves to be river rocks when back in civilization.

 

Lake Blut and environs. The star is the town of Bairglyana, the triangle is a shrine to a local hunter-god, the tower is Der Blutschink's island lair, and the spiral is the whirlpool that leads to Vodyanoy's apartment.

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The Blutschink was featured in the classic D&D hobbyist publication All the Worlds' Monsters, put out by Chaosium. The first volume even came out before the Monster Manual, making AtWM the first dedicated D&D monster book if you don't count Vol. 2: Monsters & Treasure! However, the version of the Blutschink in AtWM left something to be desired:

 

Just tacking on a bloodsucking mechanic onto the preexisting bear hug rules makes a lot of sense, but that's basically all this has going on, and its appearance is just "Looks exactly like a bear." I tried to do some more research into the folkloric background of the Blutschink, which was honestly kinda difficult because it doesn't seem that there's been any academic or even popular writing on it in English! But the name does imply the most interesting aspect of its appearance, which AtWM misses: the human legs (Blutschink means "blood ham," comparing human thighs to a ham hock). And, well, the rest of this post just flowed from me wanting to put this weird piece of Tyrolean folklore somewhere in King of Kings! The Vodyanoy is another monster from real world folklore that I've loved for quite some time, so it seemed like a no-brainer to use this as an opportunity to write up a very folkloric-style Vodyanoy for King of Kings and other old school games. Anyway, hope any of y'all can get any use out of this scenario/location or the monsters inhabiting it! Thanks for reading!

 

Also here's this side profile sketch of Der Blutschink from when I was first sketching him out. I liked how he looks in profile :)

 

Moon Men and a Calendar System for King of Kings

 

Moon Man

Number Encountered: 2d8

Hit Dice: 3+1

Attacks: 2 claw (1d6) OR 1 claw (1d6) + 1 crystal ray (2d6 + see below)

Armor: as chain

Morale: 8

Canine Disdain: If dogs or wolves are involved in a fight with moon men, they have disadvantage on morale checks. However, once a moon man kills even a single dog or wolf in combat, this penalty goes away.

Crystal Ray: 50% of moon men encountered from a moon beam expedition will be wielding pale purple crystals in one hand. These crystals, when focused on a target, emit a warbling ray that deals 2d6 HP damage and 1d4 STR damage on a failed save.

Ill-Suited: Moon men are heavy and clumsy when on the earth. On the earth, moon men will never win chases, ranged attacks have advantage to hitting them, and their claw attacks have disadvantage.

Moon Beam: Moon men crawl down on moon beams to explore and raid the surface of the earth. As a result, moon men can only ever be encountered on the night of a full moon. They grow incredibly sickly and weak if left "down below" for too long. 

Raiding: Moon men venture "down below" to steal animals and kidnap people to take to the moon as slaves. They also covet fine and careful craftsmanship. They can be bargained with, although the communication barrier presents problems.

 

The moon is an evil rock that glares down balefully, and on those nights when its soft, pale, quite pleasant but nonetheless cruel light shines down most brightly on the world, some of its cruel inhabitants can crawl down the strongest of moonbeams and raid what they call "down below." Moon men are hunched over ape-like things with nasty teeth and a hard insectile carapace, slimy red gills pulsating on their squat necks. Up on the moon, they bound through the waving purple grasses like baboons, but down here the heaviness of our world weighs them down significantly. Nevertheless, they brave the difficulty in order to get that which they lack up above: cattle, goats, chickens, and slaves. The closest thing to a domesticated animal that the moon men have are the half-intelligent moon-beasts, which produce a thick milk that forms the basis of the moon man diet, but moon-beasts refuse to do hard work. So, lacking other options, they steal from us. As if living on the edge of the Empire, at risk of raids from desert nomads or dog-headed men wasn't bad enough!

 

With their limitations down below, however, capturing slaves or even just cows is very difficult. So, some moon men (usually higher-status ones) bring crystals that glow with a baleful energy which burns the skin and withers the bones. By tuning their sensitive teeth to the frequencies of the crystals, these moon men can aim a focused ray of withering energy at a single target. Very often, this ray brings a poor peasant right to the door of death, with just about every inch of skin blackened, but this just makes the moon man's job easier. Once their quarry is completely weakened, they tie them up with purple grass-ropes and drag them back up the moon beam, letting them soak in a healing ooze made from moon-beast milk to bring back their strength and vitality before putting them to work. Since their goal is to enslave humans, generally they will avoid actually killing their target, so even when someone is tied up, a deal may be struck for their release, especially if fine filigreed gold and silver is offered (since their clumsy claws can do no fine handiwork). Very often, however, a family gives up their precious heirloom in exchange for their son or daughter's freedom, only to be raided again on the next cloudless full moon night. It is exceedingly rare for a poor slave to be carted off to the moon and escape to return down below, but there are many who will claim such extraordinary things.

 

These moon men definitely don't look like Ray Harryhausen's selenites, but you know I gotta include them somehow

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Since moon men can only be encountered on the night of the full moon (unless one was captured and kept in captivity in between), I figured its about high time I write up a calendar for King of Kings, something I've been meaning to do for quite some time!

 

The Enlightened Empire (and along with it most of the societies around it; in my heart of hearts I'd love to write out alternate calendars that like, the Gnostic Elves or the Great East or the dog-headed men use but also I'd be crazy to try and use that in gameplay) uses a lunisolar calendar, 12 months of 30 days with a 13th intercalary month inserted every 4 years, to ensure the calendar more or less lines up with the flow of the seasons. This does mean the average year length is 367.5 days, which is longer than IRL, but for the purposes of running a D&D game I don't want to deal with the metonic cycle, so I can fudge the math a bit, and anyway this is a fantasy world. Every month begins on a new moon (which, since the world in King of Kings is flat, is the literal darker side of the moon turning to face the earth; rather than light being blocked from hitting it, dark clouds are accumulated on one side of the moon, and it takes 30 days for the moon to fully rotate). The year begins on the first new moon after the spring equinox (the midpoint in the sun's procession from its closest point to the world (summer) and its farthest point (winter); the sun moves in a recurring spiralling motion around the world), with a grand New Year festival of varying length taking place in the period between the equinox and the new moon.

 

Diagram showing the metonic cycle, 9th century manuscript from St. Emmeram's Abbey, Bavaria

The 12 (13) months are:

1: Ashabehesht ("the best for Truth," dedicated to Truth in both its abiding and creating aspects; roughly corresponding (if this was our world) to the latter half of March-first half of April)

2: Thuravahr ("month of strong spring"; roughly April-May)

3: Thaigrasihr ("garlic-collecting month"; roughly May-June)

4: Hordad ("wholeness" or "perfection," an aspect of Truth; roughly June-July)

5: Amardad ("immortality," an aspect of Truth; roughly July-August)

6: Shahrivar ("guardian of metals," an aspect of Truth, considered an auspicious month to begin a war; roughly August-September)

7: Mihr (month dedicated to thousand-eyed Mihr, protector of covenants, and considered an auspicious month to begin a war; roughly September-October)

8: Marukashan ("wolf-killing month"; roughly October-November)

9: Aban ("water"; roughly November-December)

10: Azar ("fire"; roughly December-January)

11: Wahman ("good purpose," an aspect of Truth; roughly January-February)

12: Spandarmad ("holy devotion," an aspect of Truth; roughly February-March)

Intercalary: The Month of the Nameless One (the one month still allowed the chthonic gods, after the dedication of most other months to aspects of Truth)

 

For official capacities (i.e. the imperial court, the temples, satraps and their hangers-on, etc.), days are reckoned by simple numbering of days each month (i.e. 1 Shahrivar). In real life all 30 days of a month in the Zoroastrian calendar are given a unique name, and that would be really cool and evocative, but its just unfeasible for game purposes. (As an aside, check out this gallery of beautiful calligraphy of the ancient month day names.) The above month names are derived from either the 12 months of the Zoroastrian calendar (but using Middle Persian equivalents for the Avestan names, with some minor modifications) or the months we know from the Old Persian calendar from the Achaemenid period (with names turned into (an approximation of) Middle Persian equivalents; unlike the Zoroastrian calendar, we don't have actual MP versions, so I kinda had to speculate on what the Old Persian words would evolve into; also some of those months (like the "wolf-killing month") we only know from Elamite-language inscriptions, so I kinda had double the speculation there). I get way too into doing research for verisimilitude for things like this. Needless to say, though, while the above takes inspiration from historical and present Iranian calendars, it shouldn't be taken on face value as an accurate reflection on them, Iranian culture, or Zoroastrianism, this is an entirely fictional system of tracking time made for a D&D game.

 

For the purposes of moon man encounters (and werewolves, while we're at it!), the full moon (both when its at its fullest and when it is technically not a true full moon but still appears full to the eye) lasts from the 14th to the 16th of each month.

 

High-relief depicting the royal investiture of Shahanshah Khosrow II, with Mithra (Mihr) to his right and (probably) Nahid (Anahita) to his left, from Taq-e Bostan, Kermanshah, Iran

Commoners, especially rural peasants, on the other hand, use a 7-day week system to mark the time between regular market days.  The weekdays are:

1: Gandom Roz ("wheat/grain day," the market day around which the rest of the week revolves. While other weekdays are dedicated to certain common deities, each village or town's market is governed by a local tutelary deity.)

2: Hvar Roz/Asha Roz ("sun day" or "truth's day," since the sun is often conflated as a manifestation of Truth.)

3: Mah Roz ("moon day," the most scandalous element of the peasant week, at least to the priesthood, since the moon is widely known to be evil.)

4: Tir Roz ("Sirius' day," dedicated to Tir, conflated with the star Sirius, as god of rains.)

5: Mihr Roz ("Mihr's day," dedicated to thousand-eyed Mihr, protector of covenants and watcher of livestock.)

6: Bahram Roz ("Victory's day," dedicated to Victory, conflated with the Red Wanderer, as god of... well, victory.)

7: Nahid Roz ("Morning Star's day," dedicated to Nahid, conflated with the Morning Star, as goddess of love, sex, and bloodshed.)

 

Check out the page on the week in Encyclopaedia Iranica for more information about the historical inspirations behind this system of days, namely the Sogdian week. Also, keep an eye out for a future post about the major divinities of the Enlightened Empire!

 

Mosaic zodiac wheel from the floor of the Byzantine-era Beit Alpha synagogue in northern Palestine

And, finally, since I'm sure this is more than enough lists of things for one post, the zodiac of the world of King of Kings:

1: The Lamb (12 Ashabehesht to 11 Thuravahr)

2: The Bull (12 Thuravahr to 11 Thaigrasihr)

3: The Mirror (12 Thaigrasihr to 11 Hordad)

4: The Crayfish (12 Hordad to 11 Amardad)

5: The Lion (12 Amardad to 11 Shahrivar)

6: The Grasses (12 Shahrivar to 11 Mihr)

7: The Emerald (12 Mihr to 11 Marukashan)

8: The Scorpion (12 Marukashan to 11 Aban)

9: The Simurgh (12 Aban to 11 Azar)
10: The Goat (12 Azar to 11 Wahman)

11: The Serpent (12 Wahman to 11 Spandarmad)

12: The Fish (12 Spandarmad to 11 Ashabehesht; during a leap year, all of The Month of the Nameless One is considered to fall under the sign of the Fish)

 

When creating a character, roll 1d12 to determine which star your character was born under the auspices of. This gives ability score modifiers, gives advantage on a certain type of roll only when the sun is in one's sign, and describes (or at least gives a prompt for) your character's personality:

1: The Lamb (+1 WIS, -1 STR; adv. on saving throws vs. mind-altering effects; meek yet determined, born with a poem in their ear)

2: The Bull (+1 CON, -1 DEX; adv. on saving throws vs. poison and paralysis; intensely stubborn, loyal, and handsome)

3: The Mirror (+1 CHA, -1 DEX; ranged attacks have disadv. against you; self-absorbed, confident, a fragile leader with careless fingers and careless lips)

4: The Crayfish (+1 DEX, -1 WIS; adv. on finding and disarming traps; quick-witted and observant but comfortable in their ways)

5: The Lion (+1 CHA, -1 INT; adv. on hireling loyalty checks; physically strong and boisterous, a natural leader, but not one who always makes the right decision)

6: The Grasses (+1 DEX, -1 STR; melee attacks have disadv. against you; always willing to join up with anything, never quite good enough to excel)

7: The Emerald (+1 WIS, -1 CHA; adv. on initial reaction rolls; as many faces as a jewel has facets, rich in personality but not in friends)

8: The Scorpion (+1 CON, -1 CHA; adv. on damage rolls; hardscrabble and selfish, a poison barb at the ready for those who threaten them and theirs)

9: The Simurgh (+1 CHA, -1 CON; adv. on any save or die roll; kindly and caring, perhaps too willing to give up for others)

10: The Goat (+1 INT, -1 WIS; adv. on saving throws against traps; too smart for their own good, always finding a way into and out of trouble)

11: The Serpent (+1 INT, -1 STR; adv. on ranged attacks; intelligent and skillful, always has a plan up their sleeve, often seen as conniving)

12: The Fish (+1 WIS, -1 DEX; opponents have disadv. on morale checks; an inauspicious sign ever since the Deluge, those born under the Fish are slow and quiet, yet thoughtful and observant, often seeing in the big picture rather than the here-and-now)

 

And, well, that's enough for now. I want to make tracking in-game time really matter, so I figure this is a good start, with a monster encounter and player-facing rolls affected by the calendar, but there will likely be more in the future! I especially want to figure out ways to make the calendar connect to magic, since magic in King of Kings is derived from the stars. Anyway, hope this has been at least kinda interesting!

Goin' Through the Fiend Folio Part 17 (FINAL!!! Umpleby to Yellow Musk Creeper)

It is time... the FINAL part of the unnecessarily long-running Fiend Folio saga on this here blog! Won't take too much time here, check out the first entry in this series, and here's a link to the most recent!

 

Umpleby

★★★☆☆

The umpleby is a real weirdo, and I know that's saying something with Fiend Folio monsters! An 8 foot tall hairy humanoid that will ally with anyone that gives it food, drink, and treasure (it loves precious metals and gems, for some reason), and with two hyper-specific powers: it is able to discharge strong static electricity, and it ties knotted nets out of its own fur that it stores around its waist (which aren't electric at all, seemingly). I really like the idea of a static electricity hair monster! For every day, the umpleby has 50 points of damage that it can distribute among the static attacks it makes as it pleases. This resets to 50 whenever it rests; I'd like to think that they have to rub themselves on something to get the static charge back up. The umpleby demanding a cut of treasure (on top of food and water) does prompt the question (on the part of the players) of how long you want to keep it around, if its electrical power and nets and (presumably) knowledge of the dungeon is so good but it means you take less treasure. I just struggle to really understand the point of the umpleby's treasure fascination otherwise, it isn't really described. Is it like a magpie-style fixation on shiny things that they take back to a nest?

 

The umpleby first appeared in the Fiend Factory column, and with a much more dramatic illustration. The description is similar, although it notes that umplebies are of low intelligence (also noted in the Folio description), but are "swift and calculating" when it comes to treasure. Also, the Factory umpleby with accompany an adventuring party whether they want it to or not. A much more unwanted presence, this version of the umpleby! The Factory umpleby also has a lair which it stores treasure in (answering at least some of the unaddressed questions from the Folio version), the location of which it will never reveal unless charm monster is cast on it; even when threatened with death, the umpleby will only... giggle. Don Turnbull's description says that the "travelling companion" type of monster was apparently becoming very popular, although this is the first time I've encountered it. Turnbull liked it more than Little Old Men and LOLITS (little old lady in tennis shoes) which... sure are specific images to refer to!

 

For some reason, a version of the umpleby illustration without a net was used later in the Fiend Factory as the illustration for a completely unrelated monster, the Time Freezer, whose powers you can probably guess.

 

Urchin

★☆☆☆☆

Not gonna lie, this whole time I was under the impression that the urchins in the Fiend Folio were literal sea urchins, and they do look like normal sea urchins, but they are actually urchin-like predatory monsters that shoot spines as ranged weapons and have precious gems inside of them. There are five different colors of urchin that increase in deadliness and gem value as you go up. IDK, I want to like urchins with mysterious gems inside of them but this just feels more video gamey and less interesting than IRL sea urchins. Sea urchins are fascinating animals!! And anyway, sea urchin eggs are a delicacy in Japan and other places so why not just make the treasure that nice slimy yellow stuff instead of mystery gems.

 

I didn't want to take a picture of the whole (unnecessarily long) stat block, so here's just the fun title font that they used in the Fiend Factory

Urchins also were first featured in the Fiend Factory, in an identical form. At the very least, the description is mercifully short. Don Turnbull notes that the guy who submitted them should hopefully realize that the silver urchin is an incredibly difficult and dangerous beast for players to have to deal with!

 

Vision

★★☆☆☆

The creation of a high-level illusionist gone wrong, the vision is a being that looks like a shadow (which, well, there's already a monster called a shadow, so why this needed to Also exist is beyond me), and which doesn't attack physically but rather makes characters (on a failed 3d6+3 vs INT roll) believe that they have aged ten years! EGAD!! To be completely honest, I actually love that power, and I almost wish the shadow already had it to begin with. I don't think a vision can kill you in any way though? You don't keep aging until you believe you're dead and then keel over, no end point is described other than the effect dissipating if the vision is killed (which is only possible through the use of silver, magical weapons, or certain cleric or illusionist spells). Really, this is a 1 star monster, but I like the power enough to bump it up, just wish it was done more interestingly.

 

Vodyanoi

★★☆☆☆

Vodyanoi, or wodniki, or a bunch of different names, are Slavic water spirits that appear in the folklore of a bunch of different eastern European countries (vodyanoi is the name in Russia, while wodnik is the name in Poland). Here, for some reason, they are rendered as slimy aquatic relatives of the umber hulk. I don't really understand why they did this? Mechanically they are uninteresting; big hefty brutes that have multiple hard-hitting attacks. Their only mildly interesting power is being able to summon 1d20 electrical eels once per day... but only with a 50% chance of success. Boooooo, just let them summon the eels goddammit!! I loooooove the Russ Nicholson illustration, it is an incredibly iconic and nasty looking fish-man with pincers around the mouth, but vodyanoii could have been so much more interestingly. Just like the vision, gets an extra star, in this case for the drawing.

 

Volt

★★★★☆

Here we go!! While not one of the most iconic weirdies in the Folio, the volt is a pretty nasty little bugger that I just love the vibe of. A shaggy grey ball with two big bulbous eyes, a mouth full of fangs, and a long sinewy tail tipped with an electricity-producing organ! ...What's with the electrical creatures toward the end of the Folio? Anyway, the volt attaches to the neck of its victim and sucks their blood while simultaneously striking the victim's head with a jolt of electricity from its tail. It doesn't even need an attack roll once its attached! One of the two illustrations for the volt features the tail shocking a helmeted warrior, which brings to mind whether wearing a helmet would actually make the attack worse (since it would be, presumably, made of metal), but that isn't touched on in the description. I just love how terrible this thing is!

 

The volt is also our next Fiend Factory original! These last several monsters sure have a high density of Factory features! The Factory volt is more or less the same, with simpler wording than the version in the Folio. In his comments, Don Turnbull compares the volt to stirges (another favorite classic D&D monster!!) in terms of being a useful low-level enemy, albeit in this case with a fun electrical theme, and also notes that one strategy to fighting a volt could be having someone in the party grab onto the tail (with a "heavily-gloved hand") while the others hack away at the head latched onto the victim's neck. I also just like the delightfully scuzzy illustration it has in the Factory column :)

 

Vortex

★★★★☆

A pretty interesting take on an air elemental, the vortex is what it says on the tin: a living whirlwind that can catch a poor victim in its gusts and spin them around until they die. The vortex only deals a small amount of damage per turn to the guy caught in it, with the sole exception of the growing change (+5% each round) of the speed of rotation growing so quickly that the victim dies instantly. The vortex's real form is a small grapefruit-sized sphere that bobs and weaves around the center of the whirlwind, and which is very hard to hit; plus, it cannot be killed by the person caught inside of it, only by someone outside. This is honestly way more interesting than the normal air elemental! I'd be much more inclined to include vortices in my game than the vague cloud-creatures that usually pass for air monsters. 

 

In Fiend Factory, the vortex is instead called the WHIRLER, which is a much more fun and whimsical name. The second sentence in the whirler's description notes that "it has a deep hatred for human-kind," which is always good to see. The description doesn't mention the little grapefruit-sized true body like the one in the Folio does, but otherwise it is pretty much the same. Don Turnbull says it would be very fun to require players attempting to attack the whirler while a buddy is caught inside be very careful with their rolls lest they hit their companion! "Characters with dexterity lower than 13 need not apply..."

Whipweed

★★★☆☆

A plant-like (but not a plant, which the description basically wastes an entire paragraph to note) monster that has a central spheroid body with eight small legs and roots as well as two long thin whip-like stalks. They dwell underground and don't photosynthesize, instead absorbing nutrients from meat through their roots. This is honestly pretty basic for a mobile carnivorous plant (despite the description claiming otherwise). Nothing super notable mechanically other than the whipweed not dying until the central body is killed (because it can regrow its stalks). I think the idea of a mobile subterranean plant-monster is really cool, but it isn't executed especially interestingly here.

 

Also going by a slightly different name, the Fiend Factory's "Whipper" is... wait a minute, in the Fiend Factory, whipweeds literally are plants! The opening sentence even notes that they are susceptible to spells like control plants! What gives! Anyway, as is the running theme with comparisons between the Factory and the Folio, the version in the Factory is a much leaner, simpler, more effective version of the monster, in terms of mechanical implementation. The illustration is fantastically weird looking, with the two whip-like tendrils twisted and covered with leaves, while the main body down below has a toothsome maw. If this illustration was in the Folio (unfortunately the Folio whipweed doesn't even have an illustration), I would have given it four stars, maybe even five. The vibe communicated by this drawing is so unwholesome.

 

Witherstench

★★★☆☆

Did we need a mangy mostly hairless skunk-relative that constantly emits a foul-smelling odor that all within a certain radius need to save vs. or vomit uncontrollably and leave themselves helpless to attack? Perhaps not... However, I am very glad that we have it anyway :) I always love uncontrollable vomit effects, its such a particularly nasty way to make a character unable to attack/act. Otherwise, nothing super notable about this guy.

 

The witherstench also was a Fiend Factory original! There really are a lot of those this time around, which I guess is only fitting. The description is literally three sentences long. I'll include the whole thing in the screenshot from the PDF. The illustration looks much more like an actual skunk than the mangy squirrel-thing in the Folio. Don Turnbull notes some confusion about the radius of the stink effect, since it is unspecified (I honestly really like that they reprinted people's monsters with no real editing, makes this a much clearer look into the world of late 70s British D&D nerds than if there was more editorial oversight), but also says that it makes for a useful wandering monster, since presumably its lair would be so smelly that nobody would even want to go in without a gas mask!

 

Witherweed

★★★★☆

Another plant-thing, and this one I personally find much more interesting than the whipweed. Immobile, the witherweed grows in big patches (20 sq ft on average but sometimes larger), with 13-24 flailing fronds that, upon a touch, cause the victim to begin to wither into nothing, draining 1d4 points of DEX per attack. If 4 points are drained in a single attack, the victim suffers a nervous seizure for 2 rounds and then has a penalty to their attacks for 5 rounds even after coming to! Holy shit?? A dry pallid plant with flailing fronds that sap dexterity and cause seizures is so specific and messed up. On top of this, the easy answer of just burning the thing presents its own problems; while the fronds won't be able to attack, it does produce a toxic, oily smoke that can only be dissipated by a strong wind (a strong wind which, of course, wouldn't exist in a dungeon!) or by waiting four hours. Breathing in this smoke is a save or die effect, which I do find a bit cheap, but I like how even the obvious way of countering the witherweed presents its own problems. This thing is a fantastical plant that still feels like a plant, and I really appreciate that!

 

The witherweed is also from the Fiend Factory column! The description there is pretty much identical to the one in the Folio, but (again) much simpler with its explanation of what actually matters about the monster (it squeezes the physical description, the effects of burning it, and how its DEX-draining/seizure-inducing attack works into one paragraph where the Folio has four). Turnbull says smart players will avoid burning it but instead hack it to pieces so they can take bits of it with them to burn strategically and make monsters throw up, which is a great suggestion!

 

Xill
★★☆☆☆

I want to like the xill, I really do. The illustration is so good, with the weird glassy eyes, four arms, and horns and frills that make it feel like something out of a Frank Frazetta cover for one of the Barsoom novels. However, ultimately, it is basically the same thing as the assassin bug, and you know I have to go to bat for the bug person version. Both the xill and the assassin bug are parasitoids, having to lay their eggs inside a human host for it to gestate; however, unlike the assassin bug, xills are asexual, laying their own eggs with no need for sexual reproduction, and they dwell on the ethereal plane. That, and the xill being listed as "very" intelligent (but I always like to think of assassin bugs as smarter than they're given credit for in the Folio anyway), are the only real differences. Well, that and the xill's description being wayyyyyy too elaborate and long-winded in describing how it snatches up a human host to lay eggs in, how grappling with a four-armed xill works, how their subduing attacks work, etc. It's just too much!! I kept switching between 3 and 2 stars while writing this, but I think ultimately the combination of how unwieldy it is mechanically with the fact that the assassin bug does its thing much better offset how cool I find the illo.

 

I don't even really like this illustration...

Xvart

★☆☆☆☆

Dude we do NOT need yet another race of goblin-like diminutive humanoids. The description for the xvart even says they are "mediary" between kobolds and goblins, like oh my godddddd. I love goblin-types as much as the next gal, but I think the real running theme of this series has to be "okay guys we have enough of them," or at the very least actually make them interesting like the forlarren or the meazel. Xvarts are just gnome lookin' guys with oversized heads that wield small swords or other weapons, some of them have nets, and they sometimes have giant rats and wererats allied with them. They don't even have the rat thing unique to them, the jermlaine already has a rat motif going on. This sucks.

 

Oh god why did this one have to also be from the Fiend Factory column. There, the xvart is instead called a svart, which is a much better name solely on the basis of pronounceability. Also, their head is much more proportional in the accompanying illustration, for some reason. Y'know, now that I think about it, neither of these descriptions mention an oversized head... what is up with the illustration in the Fiend Folio? The description here is very similar, except that the Factory svart apparently despises hobbits, and apparently hobbits like to capture svarts and kobolds and make them fight wait what?? That's an insane little detail to just drop in there. Anyway, apparently these guys (svarts, that is, not xvarts) are taken from a book I haven't heard of before, The Weirdstone of Brisingamen by Alan Garner. Might have to check that one out, I can't help but think I will be much more charitable to a race of little people in a weird fairy-inflected fantasy novel than in D&D.

 

Yellow Musk Creeper (and Zombie, Yellow Musk)

★★★★★

But hey, at least we're ending on a high note!!! Woooooo!! Yellow musk creeper!! I hope its fine to review these two together, since the one is entirely dependent on the other. And, since this is our third plant in this post alone, I guess the real running theme of the end of the Fiend Folio is plants! I'm not even certain there are any other plants in the Folio! There's the algoid and the kelpie, but algae/kelp isn't actually plants (though that is definitely being very nitpicky hehe). Anywho, the yellow musk creeper is a classic and very effective type of monster, a mind-controlling plant. I feel like these days, the niche of mind control/zombification has been taken over by cordyceps-inspired fungi, at least when it isn't some kind of virus or parasitic worm I guess. When a victim gets close enough, the yellow musk creeper puffs a bit of musk-scented dust into their face that brings them into a hypnotic trance, during which they wander deeper into the plant's large structure, so that the creeper can insert roots into their brain. A really haunting visual! This drains points of INT every round, and if your INT gets low enough, you are brought completely under the yellow musk creeper's control and become a yellow musk zombie (which aren't actually undead since they are like, semi-alive, and thus cannot be turned by clerics, but because they are under the control of a plant which is also immune to mind-altering effects they cannot be affected by charm, hold person, etc). The only way to actually defeat a yellow musk creeper is to destroy the bulb buried in the ground beneath the plant, which makes the combat so much more interesting. You don't just have to slice away at the thing or defeat its thralls, you also have to take out a shovel and dig as fast as you can and hope you get to the bulb before your friend becomes a zombie! I also like the small note that yellow musk creepers are often deliberately planted in certain areas to "guard" something. There should honestly be more deliberately planted weaponized plants! Even the witherweed was assumed to just grow naturally in dungeons. I'd love to supplement an evil overlord's lair with a deadly garden!

 

And with that, the Goin' Through the Fiend Folio series comes to a close! But don't fret! Or, well, I doubt you're fretting, but anyway: this won't be the last you see me reviewing monsters on this here blog! After I put together a masterpost linking to all of the Fiend Folio reviews, I intend on making a follow-up going through various monsters from the Fiend Factory column in White Dwarf that didn't make it into the Fiend Folio. Because, for all the unwarranted weird reputation that the Folio has, a lot of real fascinating weirdos didn't quite make the cut! So, keep an eye out for that!

 

False Prophets (A Monster for King of Kings)

Onkelos then went and raised Jesus the Nazarene from the grave through necromancy... Onkelos said to him: What is the punishment of that man, a euphemism for Jesus himself, in the next world? Jesus said to him: He is punished with boiling excrement. As the Master said: Anyone who mocks the words of the Sages will be sentenced to boiling excrement. And this was his sin, as he mocked the words of the Sages.

-Gittin 57a, Bavli Talmud

In Gehenna there are certain places and grades called "Boiling Filth" [Tzoah Rotachat], where the filth of the souls that have been polluted by the filth of this world accumulates... There are certain sinners who pollute themselves over and over again by their own sins and are never purified. They die without repentance, having sinned themselves and caused others to sin, being stiff-necked and never showing contrition before the Lord while in this world; these are they who are condemned to remain for ever in this "boiling filth" and never leave it. Those who have corrupted their ways upon earth and recked not of the honour of their Lord in this world are condemned to remain there for all generations.

 -Terumah 41, Zohar

I can't find any artistic depictions of Tzoah Rotachat, but this painting of a Buddhist hell (Naraka) gets the boiling across pretty well.

False Prophet

Number encountered: 1

Hit Dice: 3+1

Attacks: 1 inveighing OR 1 exhortation OR 1 spell

Armor: as leather

Morale: 8

Daeva-summoned: Deceitful daevas summon false prophets as thralls to do their bidding.
Followers: False prophets are accompanied by 2d4 sycophantic followers, most often 1 HD undead sinners.

Foul Stench: Those engaged in melee or grappling with a false prophet have disadvantage on rolls due to the foul stench, unless they block their sense of smell in some way.

Inveigh: False prophets have the deceitful power to inveigh against some immorality and insidiously bind others against it. When inveighing, the false prophet declares some specific action (i.e. slashing with a sword, casting a healing spell, jumping, etc.) to be anathema, stopping completely any attempt to perform the specific action. Only one action can be inveighed against at a given time; when the false prophet inveighs against something else, it overrides the earlier inveighing. Spells such as remove curse or dispel evil will counteract an inveighing. 

Exhort: False prophets can exhort their followers to their greater mission. An exhortation gives the false prophet's followers advantage on morale checks and can (if declared after an inveighing) carve out an exception in an inveighing for the false prophet's followers and allies. 

Spells: Instead of an inveighing or motivation, a false prophet can choose to cast a spell. False prophets know spells such as darkness, cause fear, cause light wounds, insect plague, although the specific spell list will vary.

 

On the underside of the world, pools of boiling filth and waste hold the writhing bodies of false prophets, the most deceitful of men and women, those who inveighed against Truth and led others toward Deceit. Truth places them there, keeping them as far as possible from the light of the sun, in the company of chaos-loving daevas and other underside-dwellers. After centuries of upside-down boiling torment, false prophets have become accustomed to the pain, although the comparative euphoria of simply not being immersed in their fetid pits even for just a moment is something they can never pass up. These priests of treachery, boiling away on the bottom of the world, are sometimes dragged out to their delight by daevas and sorcerers to use their unwholesome influence, answer forbidden questions, or simply do dirty work perfect for their already soiled hands.

 

Since false prophets (of the long-dead sort) are only ever on the surface world at the behest of terrible powers, they are never encountered alone. Gibbering sycophants crowd around them and hold them aloft, ignorant of the slimy filth dripping off their bodies. Uncanny daevas, walking upside-down on ceilings and causing disease, give them orders (some even holding an excrement-encrusted false prophet on a bejeweled leash), while pale eyeless things adapted to the deep depths between the underside of the world and the surface crawl along with the entourage, caught up in the movement of it all. Sea Tyrants and their servants, unfortunate bedfellows of the daevas, look down on false prophets as failed upstarts, barely tolerated presences kept only so long as they are useful.

 

a Not false prophet: Horace Vernet's Jeremiah on the Ruins of Jerusalem (I just really liked this painting and wanted to put it somewhere)

10 of the Most Perfidious False Prophets

• Abonoteichos the Wrong: Condemned for passing himself off as an oracle, mocking divination with the writhing of serpents and his made-up god Glukos, cannibal snake-god of bread.
• Shekh el-Mal of the First City: Frogling prophet condemned for attempting to make a god out of money.
• Yusuf bar Kham: Condemned for leading ten thousand of his own followers to leap from Mount Garza to their deaths when his rebellion failed.
• Myops the Annoyance: Condemned for leading the children of his city-state astray, causing the collapse of the city walls.
• Amamba Rhos: Mythic ancestor of the Gnostic Elves, declared retroactively condemned by the priesthood for the sins of her descendants (the Elves, of course, dispute this).
• Ugarza the Betrayer: Frogling prophet infamous for seizing control of an ancient city and casting down the stone stelae of the law codes, shattering them upon the ground.
• Sajah bint Haytham: Condemned for demanding that Truth in the sky pay taxes to her and her desert kingdom.
• Fravarti of Guoxes: Condemned for whipping up the people into a frenzy against a Truthful prophet, who was hanged from an elm tree.
• Babak Nokh the Perverse: Condemned for establishing an impure commune that advocated sex with crocodiles and the eating of cats.
• Khura the Star-Eraser: Condemned for roping his followers into a scheme to climb into the sky and erase certain stars he felt were distasteful.