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!