A Terrible Weight Pins you Down (A Monster for King of Kings)

On occasion one may wake up in the middle of the night, pinned down by a terrible weight, barely able to move. Sleep paralysis and terror in the night, shadowy forms crawling about you, your breath forced out from your lungs and your ribs pressed in to not let you take in air to replace it. Eyes staring out at you from the dark, hungry and avaricious.

This is the terrible bakhtak!

By Norma Tattoo, for the album Bakhtak by Hassan K., which you can listen to here. It's pretty good!

Bakhtak

Number Encountered: 1

Hit Dice: 5

Attacks: 2 claws (1d6+1)

Armor: as chain

Morale: 8

Nightmare: The bakhtak can induce sleep and a sudden night terror in a target by simply pointing and giving them the evil eye. Save vs. paralysis or fall asleep and thrash about in an intense nightmare, with the chance of dealing damage to yourself if holding a weapon. The bakhtak's nightmare ability is stopped if its eyes are covered.

Nocturnal: A bakhtak is only ever encountered at night.

Nose for Treasure: A bakhtak can smell gold, silver, and jewels. If its nose is held, it will point you in the direction of nearby treasure.

Sleep Paralysis: The bakhtak sits on the chest of a slumberer, pinning them down. Determine who the bakhtak sits upon randomly, or if there is a particular member of the party which attracts the attentions of unclean spirits. They who the bakhtak sits upon, once they have woken up, must make a save vs. paralysis with disadvantage to be able to move at all, repeating every other round. The one sat upon by the bakhtak loses one point of CON and one point of WIS.

Unclean Spirit: Bakhtaks are unclean spirits and as such are able to be turned by those with the proper capability. They are immune to damage from mundane weaponry, and are immune to fire, acid, electricity, and large blunt force attacks like boulders. The only thing that can harm a bakhtak are immaterial weapons  and items specifically aimed at warding off unclean spirits.

The bakhtak appears as a dark, shaggy, shadowy thing, its long awful hairs swimming about in the air as if it were submerged. Above its moustache as dark as night sits a pale nose, and above that are two pinprick eyes which stare out like baleful stars. Its hands are like those of a woman more than a century old, knobby, lanky, and bent, but its legs are bestial and on thick haunches. It is these creatures which cause sleep paralysis, solely out of malice, taking delight in the discomfort and pain they cause when they suck all the air out of a sleeper's lungs in the night.

At the very least, however, the bakhtak does not wish violence on anyone. While they will use their crone claws to their defense in the rare circumstance that one has an ectoplasmic sword or painful warding rune of some sort, they will never kill anyone, only bring them near to death. After all, if they killed someone that is one less person to torment in their sleep. On top of this, if the sleeper or a friend of theirs is at least able to feebly reach up and grasp the nightmare's moon pale nose, the bakhtak will panic and point them toward the nearest cache of treasure. Normally, the bakhtak uses their awareness of nearby gold to mock the poor sleeper, tantalizingly bringing bounty to their attention in their fitful sleep only for it to be forgotten the next morning, but if one is able to grasp the thing's nose it can be very fruitful indeed. There are tales of great thief kings making their start extorting a sleep paralysis demon for its buried treasure.

But such successes are few and far between. Much more likely than grasping the bakhtak by the nose and forcing it to guide you to gold is that you stay pinned under its weight, for they are far heavier than their small hirsute appearance would suggest, barely able to breathe as you slide in and out of consciousness, the only thing remaining in your mind the vision of terrible hateful stars, a pair of them, staring at you from the night sky above, as shadowy hands surround you.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The bakhtak has been on my encounter tables for KoK for a while but I hadn't really written it up yet. It's not intended to be a fully fledged combat encounter, more a stressful weird set piece encounter, but I suppose you could fight it with the intention of grabbing its nose and pointing you toward treasure! RIP to whoever it is that got sat on though, unfortunate for them really.

Also, here's three drawings of nightmares/night hags by the great German expressionist Fritz Schwimbeck that don't really have much to do with the Iranian bakhtak but which I just think are cool:

King of Kings Session 13 After Action Report

 It's been a good while since the last time a session report was posted here, and even longer still since I posted a session report that I actually wrote! You see, that's because unfortunately King of Kings has been on hiatus ever since October of last year, but yesterday the campaign made its valiant return, and this time I'm deadset on avoiding such long gaps between sessions. So without further ado, here's a report on what my players got up to in the world of the eastern satrapies of the Enlightened Empire!

Dramatis Personae

Coro the Esoterian, level one magic user

Ishthyromeda the Small, level one amazon

Manchugo Coldeswain, level one cleric dedicated to Damir, foreign god of the trade routes

Rohm'Daan, level one cleric dedicated to Anzhalar, a local chthonic god of subterranean flame

also Parsani, scrawny son of a rural matriarch

The session began in Tabur, with the group awakening to the terrible news that Zana the Charlatan, their fellow adventurer and client of Farzaneh Taburi, was arrested by the city guard and jailed in the Iron Pit in connection to an accusation of arson by his rival Jamshid the Merchant! A few sessions before, when the group was traveling to Temple Town for the festival of Saint Jumhura, Kusa had set fire to Jamshid's cart, and when Zana left the group to go back to Tabur while the rest went on to explore the valley, Jamshid pinned the blame on him. Much of the beginning of the session was taken by discussing what to do, with the group ultimately just deciding to pick up on exploring the abandoned farmsteads in the valley, since there was one more abandoned peasant commune to check out. Also they geared up, namely buying a large number of iron spikes to use against any possible jinn they may encounter.

As an aside, a note on Zana's situation. Long term imprisonment isn't really a practice in the Enlightened Empire, at least for anyone who isn't an antimartyr heretic; rather, Zana is in jail pending the trial, which is to happen one in game week from the day of the previous session. Jamshid is also in jail pending the trial. At the trial, testimony of witnesses and associates of the accused and accuser will be brought forth to testify, and if there is any inconsistency in testimony then Zana can possibly be tried by fire, to suss out the truth. If Zana is found guilty, then he will be publicly lashed, branded as an arsonist, and fined. If Zana is found not guilty, then Jamshid will be publicly lashed and fined. If the truth comes out that Kusa is the one who actually set the fire, then Kusa will be publicly lashed, branded as an arsonist, and fined. That's just how it be!

Once the group decided what to do, they set off for the road, in the process meeting Coro the Esoterian, a new player's character who brought along with them a ragged old camel. They followed the road north, the one that leads ultimately to Humakuyun on the sea, first stopping by the little compound of Parsani's farming family to let them know about the kallikantzaroi and headless bull thing that they encountered at the abandoned farmstead they went to previously. After this quick stop, they went on, passing by a fork in the road, one path leading north to Humakuyun and the other leading east to the ragged village of Broken Huts, which I totally didn't steal from Gus L.'s Prison of the Hated Pretender. Sticking to the northern path, they eventually came upon the only remaining farmstead to investigate: a small walled compound surrounded by fields, a waist high mud brick wall encircling it. On the way there I didn't roll a single random wilderness encounter so they just got a nice wilderness stroll it seems.

The compound is a small oval shaped thing, with a little goat pen off to one side, a small copse of trees, a well in the middle, an outhouse, and a main hut where the family presumably lived. The group first set about corralling the goats into the pen and closing it back up, because a number of them had escaped and were running amok in the compound. Manchugo and Rohm'Daan went to investigate the trees, because they were swaying in the wind in such a way that caught their attention, but other than finding a little bright green caterpillar on a branch they didn't find anything. Though once Manchugo turned away from the copse of trees, a strange sound like a high pitched laugh filled the air, which caught their attention but they didn't really do anything about.

Manchugo next went over to the outhouse, but knocking on the door just prompted a loud hissing that they chose not to investigate further. They assumed it to be a snake that was using the outhouse, and didn't want to intrude on their privacy. At the same time, Rohm'Daan poured a bit of goat's milk that Coro harvested from the goats into the well, which did nothing.

This is just what came up when I googled "skinless people sitting"

With the area outside seemingly fully explored, the group next decided to go into the main house building. The first thing they saw upon entering was the large wooden table off to the side, with a family of four arrayed around it, all completely missing their skin. At this point, I did a bit of a small infodump about the nasnas, who it seemed were the most likely culprit for removing the family's skin. The group did a quick look around the rest of the room, seeing the large rug on the floor, the two beds, the hearth with four chairs arrayed around it, the faint hint of a footprints on the floor, and the opening to a sloping passageway seemingly leading to the basement. Before going any further, they took the skinless family and buried them outside the compound with a respectful little ceremony, similarly to how they treated the other dead peasants they found at the last abandoned farm.

Returning to the building, they decided to go down into the basement. After crawling down the low ceiling sloping passageway to the basement, they discovered that it was a storage place for cured meats, including a number of slaughtered and cured goats or cuts of goat hanging from the ceiling. There was a little pile of dirt on the wall opposite the doorway leading back up, and a locked door off to the side. Ishthyromeda poked at the dirt with one of her weapons, dislodging the pile and revealing an opening behind it. At the same time, Rohm'Daan and Manchugo investigated one of the hanging goats because it made a strange clinking sound on the inside when poked. They ended up cutting open the goat, causing ten drachmae to clatter to the dirt floor below! At the same time, a group of four giant ants crawled out of the tunnel, although they did not seem hostile. Coro and Rohm'Daan set about feeding them some of the goat milk and meat, to calm them down and keep them there.

It wasn't nearly as bad as this

Ishthyromeda decided to crawl through the tunnel the ants came out of, ending up in another square room where a good half of the walls had been dug out with both ant mandibles and shovels, with a doorway on one side that had a broken down door and four ant tunnels forking out of the chamber in different directions. As she approached the broken down door, with a candle in hand for light, Manchugo decided to knock on the locked door, hearing the scrambling of human feet on the other side. When Ishthyromeda heard the knocking through the broken down doorway, she went back to the tunnel she crawled through to notify the group that it was the same room connected by both doors. The group then concocted a plan: Ish, Rohm'Daan, and Parsani would approach from the room connected by the broken down door, while Coro would guard the sloping passageway back up, and Manchugo would continue knocking to distract the inhabitants of the room.

What Rohm'Daan and Ish saw when they entered the room, however, was not a hostile group of creatures, but three nasnas cowering in the corner from the sound of the knocking. Rohm'Daan went over to unlock the door, letting Coro and Manchugo in once they realized that the nasnas weren't going to fight them. They then attempted to let the nasnas know that they weren't going to hurt them, offering them food and attempting to speak to them and communicate with them by writing, but the creatures' fear stopped them from eating in the adventurers' presence, and their half formed voice boxes stopped them from verbally communicating. It took Coro casting a charm person spell on one of them, which the creature failed the saving throw for, for them to respond with simple nods for yes and shaking of the head for no. But at this point, it was getting late in the day, so they left the terrified creatures in the basement and set up camp outside, in the low lying mud brick walls of the compound.

Treasure Acquired

10 drachmae

Non Treasure XP Acquired

20 XP each for burying the skinless family, since I gave XP for burying dead peasants last time.

15 XP each for coordinating the approach of the nasnas room, just because it illustrated good group coordination

10 XP for Coro for charming the nasnas

Total: 35 XP/45 for Coro

King of Kings Session 10 & 11 (10.5?) After Action Report

 Yes, two sessions in one post... or well, perhaps more accurately one session split between two days of play? It got split due to confusion on my part that caused a mixup during the first session. For the purposes of continuing numbering, gonna consider the second one as session 11. Just gonna describe it in one go though, just because it is easier. The events described in this post occurred on August 9th and August 18th.

Dramatis Personae

Ishthyromeda the Small, level one amazon 

Kusa, level one cleric of the exiled and half-dead foreign goddess Nasitu-Neb 

Manchugo Coldeswain, level one cleric dedicated to Damir, foreign god of the trade routes 

Rohm'Daan, level one cleric dedicated to Anzhalar, a local chthonic god of subterranean flame

also Parsani, scrawny son of a rural matriarch

The group made camp at the edge of the Holy Cedar Forest following the battle with the smoke-billowing headless bull-thing. After some discussion, they decide to call for Fire Eater, their jinn ally in the woodland. They get a fire started, burning some of Rohm'Daan's shiny acorns and some of the ancient silks they had found in an ancient tomb as a sacrifice. Fire Eater, in the form of a slimy black salamander, dashes out of the forest and swallows the flame whole.

They got into asking Fire Eater about what that headless bull-thing was, and they tell them that it was a "poor sort of being", specifically a marid, that only started living there three months priorthat the people who lived there were already gone by the time the bull-thing took residence there, and that there are small creatures that crawl out at night with axes and handsaws to slash at the fields surrounding the abandoned farmstead. When the group mention "that with yawns deep" which they heard about from the oracle back in Temple Town, Fire Eater thinks for a moment and just replies "a hole in the ground." After this, they say goodbye to Fire Eater and discuss what their next course of action will be.

They decide to go back to the ruined farm and investigate some of the collapsed buildings that they didn't look very closely at before. The largest of the buildings collapsed in on itself due to the ramming attack that the marid bull-thing did, so they go to the leftmost of the two smaller buildings still standing. Crawling one after another through a hole in the wall, they find what looks to have been a familial house, with beds strewn about everywhere and children's toys and animal bones on the floor. Manchugo investigates under some of the beds and finds a strange silhouetted form beneath one... which they push out from underneath it using a broom, revealing the desiccated mummified corpse of a child. Their body is intact other than their left hand which is much more destroyed.

Our adventurers take the body and bury it outside, then move on to the next of the pair of buildings. Inside, it is much the same; except for a basement at the back, which they descend down into after investigating the beds for other bodies (none were found). In the lantern light, they see silhouetted humanoid forms hanging from the ceiling, and presume that they are some sort of bat people. Manchugo wonders if they are the former farmers, transformed into bat-oids at some point. They discuss among themselves whether to burn the whole place to the ground, but ultimately decide against it.

After some more deliberation, it is agreed that they will investigate the ruins of the collapsed building and then wait out for the creatures in the basement to come out at night, assuming that they are the beings that Fire Eater mentioned. The big collapsed building seems to have been the house of the farm's matriarch, and they find her skeletonized corpse in the rubble, in what seems like a side room with a bed in it. There, Ishthyromeda finds a lockbox and, after fiddling with it with her knife, she finds a silver necklace, three brass nose rings, and two iron finger rings, all of which she pocketed. There wasn't much else of note in the collapsed building. After this, the five of them took the bones and buried them along with the dried out child corpse outside of the compound's walls.

Then they took to the walls and waited for nightfall... their plan was for Manchugo to throw a lasso around the last of the creatures as it exited the hole in the wall of the house with the basement, in order for them to interrogate it or otherwise figure out what is going on... but this is kind of where it fell apart. You see, in the process of me explaining the creatures crawling out of the abandoned house and Manchugo, Kusa, et al handling their actions during the encounter, I got so confused about what was going on (mostly due to communication problems on my end), and it was getting really late on top of that, that I elected to end the session there and pick up where we left off next time.

BUT THE NEXT TIME IS NOW SO HERE WE GO!!!

So yeah Manchugo had rope and used it to lasso the last of the little critters when it crawled out from the hole in the wall of the building. By this point ten other creatures had crawled out, with four of them remaining within the walls of the compound. Manchugo throws it at the last of the creatures, which now they can see has hirsute goat-like legs and massive ears, but he fails to catch it, misaiming and letting it hit the dusty ground uselessly. However, the creature doesn't notice where the group is, and ends up just running to join its brothers. Manchugo rushes forward and throws the lasso again, and ends up snagging the thing in the rope! He runs and grabs it up in his arms, tying it up with the ropes, before waving to the rest of the group for them to run out of the compound and to the edge of the forest to interrogate it while giving the rest a wide berth. Surprisingly, they are able to dash out of the compound without alerting the others.

Not gonna describe the whole interrogation and whatnot, but basically the players discovered quite a bit! The creature repeatedly told them to "fuck off" and was impervious to threats and torture but was ultimately coerced into helping the players with a gift of an abacus and reassurances that they would return it to its brothers. In the ensuing interrogation/conversation, it identified itself and its brothers as "we who gnaw" and "ka-li-kan-tsa-roi", frantically desperately tried to count the individual strands of the rope it was tied with, was appeased with the aforementioned abacus, described how they and their brothers gnaw at the roots of trees, and described how the farmstead was built by humans but that they had not seen the humans there (i.e. it was not those-who-gnaw nor the bull-marid who killed the peasants). The players decided to call the little creature Higgles.

Locheil wasn't playing in this session but he very graciously drew our lovely little pal :3

After the impromptu interrogation and the abacus deal that they made with Higgles, the group brought the small being back to the compound to return it to its brothers and ask them some questions too. It took some convincing on the part of Higgles to get its brothers to agree to talk with the man-things, but eventually the players asked some questions and those who gnaw asked some in return. Oftentimes those who gnaw would speak in unison or in singsongy chants. They asserted that there was no ruler among them to parlay with and asked the group what they did to make the bull-marid go away (they used what the creatures called "the poison metal what pisses off jinn" of course). In response to the players' questions, they said that all they do is gnaw and cut, describe how before they arrived here there were the "half-men" who were sorrowful and ashy-skinned and who were themselves chased out by wolves, mentioned that those who gnaw cannot smell, and said that they did not kill the owners of the bodies the players found earlier and in fact did not touch them at all when they found them.

Oh and also, when asked about the "that which yawns deep" thing that they heard about from the oracle back in Temple Town, those who gnaw spoke in unison (after a bit of muttering about whether or not to even say it): "big spiral, deep down, full of slime and gunk... a word of warning for the lot of you, a foul nasty funk... beware that which yawns so deep, the hole beneath the earth.... or else in the end you will find your life, in dearth... ancient kings dug down deep, a dismal dark so dreary! do not descend lest you desire naught but death and diadems of pale bony stone..." if you can't tell this was improvised during the game

After this, the group decided that they were much too tired, starving, and beaten up to continue pushing on, at least for now. They return to Tabur via the northern gate at the Tigerskin Quarter, where Kusa's connections got them into the city without having to pay an exorbitant tariff.

Treasure Acquired

1 Silver Necklace

3 Brass Nose Rings

2 Iron Finger Rings

Non-Treasure XP Acquired

Burying Abandoned Bodies (12 XP each before Prime Requisites)

Capturing Higgles (2 XP each before Prime Requisites; for being the one who lassoed Higgles, Manchugo gets 6 XP before PR)
Total: 14 XP/18 for Manchugo

King of Kings Session 9 After Action Report

 Just pickin' up where we last left off, this session was a direct continuation of the previous one (find it here) and there will be another session following up after this one.

Dramatis Personae

Ishthyromeda the Small, level one amazon 

Kusa, level one cleric of the exiled and half-dead foreign goddess Nasitu-Neb 

Manchugo Coldeswain, level one cleric dedicated to Damir, foreign god of the trade routes 

Rohm'Daan, level one cleric dedicated to Anzhalar, a local chthonic god of subterranean flame

So the four adventurers, having retrieved information and a payment agreement from dehqan Shahab Manati, depart to investigate the three farming communes that have been slacking in their payment of tribute. Their first point of call is the estate to the north, along the road to Humakuyun. They come upon a wide expanse of tall grain with a singular path dug through it, and as they enter in they are met by a single arrow whizzing by their cart! After another arrow, they hear a voice yelling from a small copse of trees up ahead, telling them to "fuck off" and that they don't want any "agents of house Manati here any longer". Yelling back to reassure the disembodied voice that they are not agents of that house, they are apologized to and told that they can move forward, but to please bring the arrows with them, since they're not easy to make.

Coming upon the trees, they are met by a wiry young man with a scraggly beard and a red hat cocked upon his head, who explains rather nervously that they are rather reticent to deal with the insistent agents of Shahab any longer. When the players started asking questions, he said that he didn't really know what he could say and that they needed to talk to his mother. Guiding the group down the path in the field, they eventually come upon a collection of mudbrick houses encircled by a low-lying wall, teeming with his brothers and sisters. They meet with the boy's mother (who, by the way, informs the group that his name is Parsani), and ask just a whole lotta questions about the situation. To summarize: two other farming communes have become wholly empty about a month ago, their families disappeared into the ether, and dehqan Shahab hasn't done anything to help them, instead just expecting the same amount of tribute. As a result, the family here has changed their allegiance to house Taburi (which, when Manchugo mentioned they were servants of Farzaneh Taburi, made the matriarch smile and open up considerably more). They ask if her and her family would ever be willing to renegotiate with Shahab, but she refuses (though this prompts Manchugo and Rohm'Daan to wonder at perhaps organizing a meeting between Farzaneh Taburi and Shahab Manati at some point in the future (although neither are the heads of their respective houses)).

After the conversation, the group and the farming family of eleven settle in for the night, the kind peasants hosting the adventurers for the night. Ishthyromeda teaches Parsani and a number of the other boys how to make better arrows. The next morning, before they depart for the other abandoned communes, Parsani comes forward and asks if he can join the group on their travels. Once convinced that his family will be just fine without him, the four allow him to join. They depart on the dirt paths out of the farm, traveling south to the next nearest farming estate. While on the road, the group hears sounds of loud cawing up ahead, and peek beyond a hill to see seven griffons clawing and tearing at an immense hairy beast. A strange beast indeed, everyone recognized it as something that wasn't from around here. They choose to not intervene, and just continue on the road, letting the beasts duke it out behind them.

My players have provided many a visual reference this session

Another hour or two of travel later, the group comes upon wild untended to expanse of grain, being overtaken by weeds but with paradoxical random patches that have been cut low to the ground. Beyond the field is a slumped over partially collapsed farm house, and beyond that the edge of the Holy Cedar Forest. As they approach, they see the more thorough destruction of the mudbrick wall and the houses therein, empty animal pens scattered about. They spend some time discussing what to do, but ultimately just decide to look around the complex.

When they approach the main farm house, Ishthyromeda at the front with javelins in hand, they hear no noise. Ish peeks around a corner of the crumbling building, and sees a very strange form: a massive bull with pitch black skin rippling with muscles, an empty headless stump of a neck on its shoulders. She immediately threw a javelin at it, which flew right through the beast, leaving a gaping hole in its wake billowing out choking black smoke.

Another player-provided visual aid, which served as a size reference in-game

A combat ensued, using the new combat system I wrote up in this post here, but I won't describe it in a play-by-play, that'd probably be a tad too longwinded for an already too rambly post. It mostly worked out, though the headless bull-thing didn't really get to shine in the system because it was impaired by a choice it made at the start of combat: to rush at the wall of the farm house to collapse it, which ended up having no effect on the players due to lucky rolls on their part. With its shoulders embedded in a mudbrick wall, the group started whalin' on it, but bronze weaponry simply clanged off of its thick skin, while iron implements slid through it like butter, making deep slices that bled dark smoke. The beast's kicking legs knock Rohm'Daan and Manchugo to the ground. In the end, the horrible thing was pushed to fleeing by Kusa deftly grabbing onto its neck stump to attempt to hammer in an iron spike (which ultimately failed, with the thing's thrashing making Kusa fall to the ground, trampled by its feet and left with many broken bones) and subsequently by Rohm'Daan, prone on the ground but not injured, throwing sharp pieces of scrap metal at the thing. A single morale check later and the headless beast fled off into the distance through the field of grain.

After the battle, Kusa and Manchugo were helped to their feet, Parsani was found cowering behind a collapsed wall, and the group decided to make camp out at the edge of the Holy Cedar Forest, to investigate the area further next session.

Non-Treasure Experience Acquired

1 horrible headless bull thing (213 XP each before Prime Requisite modification)

King of Kings Session 8 After Action Report

Picking up where we left off last time!

Dramatis Personae

Ishthyromeda the Small, level one amazon

Kusa, level one cleric of the exiled and half-dead foreign goddess Nasitu-Neb

Manchugo Coldeswain, level one cleric dedicated to Damir, foreign god of the trade routes

Rohm'Daan, level one cleric dedicated to Anzhalar, a local chthonic god of subterranean flame

(Zana the Charlatan's player was not able to join us so I just said that Zana went home instead of venturing on with the group the following day)

Waking up in the Snail's Trail (or out in the wide open plaza in the case of Ish), the group of four congregates in the eatery at the fore of the establishment. They proceeded to just kind of ask around for work to do, not finding any interested parties there (despite Ish advertising herself and the group as a bunch of mercenaries), but they do hear from some pilgrims that a dehqan (landowning noble) along the road to the north has been worried about unproductive farms under his sway. Apparently there is talk that his peasants are disappearing, but he refuses to believe such things no matter how much his attendants visit the places. His name is Shahab, and the proprietor of the establishment (a wide-smiling sacred one clad in red silks and wearing a prominent nose ring) inform them that yes he is wealthy and yes he is in need right now, but also that he is very rude, capricious, and paranoid. They also inform them that he is a member of house Manati, a noble family here in the satrapy especially prominent in Tabur city. As they leave, Kusa leaves a little tip for the proprietor.

I think in my mind the biggest visual inspiration for the proprietor was Maya from KSBD, if not necessarily in personality.

Before leaving for dehqan Shahab's estate, the group decides to make a visit to the shrine of the Morning Star in Temple Town, where there is a deaf oracle that can speak with the voice and the certainty of the Morning Star herself. Entering the shrine, they are met by a small group of priestly functionaries in red robes, the whole place lit up by flaming torches and sunlight through red-hued hangings between the black stone columns. They set up some sacrifices (a cow and two sacred owls) and tell the scribe what to write down on the paper for the oracle to read from. Four questions were asked:

Does the Morning Star shine on our work with dehqan Shahab?

Is there anything we need to know about the situation?

Does Ishthyromeda have great herds and wealth in her future?

On what and which axes will Kusa's path converge with that of Silvered Nasitu?

(All the exact phrasing of the queries)

After the animals were sacrificed and the group was brought into the chamber of the oracle, the deaf oracle made her pronouncements with suitable ritualistic pomp and circumstance. I can't reproduce all of this scene here because that would just be too long but here is the bit where they enter the chamber: 

"with the floor now slick and shiny with blood, the looming yellow door beyond is dragged open from within, smoke billowing out from the room beyond and into the chamber which houses you now... stepping within, you are greeted by the sight of a woman in black and scarlet robes, a hood hanging over her eyes leaving only her chin and expressionless lips visible. She sits upon a looming wrought iron throne, flanked by chalices billowing with flame, the scribe you saw earlier standing beside her and holding three parchments in his hands. She reaches for the first, and holds it before her eyes."

Here are the verdicts the oracle provided:

"The fateful Morning Star, ever-glorious in her flaming beauty, shines on your acts and deeds. Her baleful light will show you the way into the darkness that now sits before you. The Morning Star wishes you to only know one thing: beware that which yawns deeply."

"The woman of the long axe shall sit upon a woolen fleece, gazing across the wide expanse of her homeland. The Morning Star speaks to your god now. Many steeds shall become thee."

"You who is in exile, you who has fled the destruction wrought on your people and your land, you shall hear your goddess once again and see your goddess once again. In the shining hills of the east, where gold is wrought and war is fought, there you will find her. The Morning Star shall see to it that the crimes of the ones who hate flesh and blood will be avenged. The Silver Star is in a golden valley."

With the knowledge from the Snail Trail's proprietor and the oracle in their hands, they depart for the estate of dehqan Shahab, cracking jokes about the sleepy Rohm'Daan being "that which yawns deeply" that they are supposed to beware. Riding on Ish's cart, they converse among themselves on the way. Manchugo tells a folk tale about a man traveling through a desert unable to refuse the coats and furs that the people he meets offer him while Ishthyromeda listens, Rohm'Daan explains the story of Anzhalar to Kusa while Kusa shares some of the tales of Nasitu-Neb. Their talk is cut off, however, when they come across a group of six gryphons desperately scratching at themselves and rubbing themselves on trees just off the road. Debating what caused the creatures to suffer, they ultimately decide to go on, concluding that it may have something to do with the peasant disappearances.

Griffon vulture scratching... closest thing I could find

After another few hours of travel, they came upon a small group of goatherds crossing the road with their flock. One of the goatherds stopped to speak with the travelers, she told them that the gryphons probably just had sky fleas and that they could find "Shahab the Worrywort, that piece of shit" in the garishly-colored estate home on the next hill over. Dashing back to be with the rest of the goatherds, the group overheard her being mocked by her fellow herders for wasting time talking to city folk that look like they have a load of debt.

They travel just that short distance and are at the home of dehqan Shahab, a looming staircase winding up the side of the hill, two guards and a trumpeteer stationed at its base. The trumpeteer asks who they are, Manchugo replying that they are craftsmen here to offer mutually beneficial trade with the dehqan, the trumpeteer letting out a trumpet blast to call forth a servant-messenger in a short tunic who, after being informed of who the group are and what they are actually here to do, goes to retrieve the dehqan. Shahab emerges from the home with the messenger, clad in an ill-fitted facsimile of a military uniform, with a wooden panel hanging from his neck and a silver diadem upon his brow, a ragged beard hanging down recklessly. Manchugo engages in some deft persuasion to convince the dehqan to hire them, and negotiates a payment scheme with the assistance of Kusa and Rohm'Daan (20 drachmae each up front and 1.5 drachmae per peasant's tribute debt retrieved or peasant confirmed dead or disappeared). The paranoid and cowardly Shahab haggled with Manchugo but ultimately gave in, fearful for what might be around him and antsy to just get a conclusion to his present problem. Shahab informs them that what falls under his domain is a small worthless village and a small handful of farming estates, three of which have been particularly problematic and failing to provide anything to him. 

Oh also they asked dehqan Shahab if he had heard anything about bird lice or sky fleas and all he said was that a friend of his in Humakuyun apparently had lice in his pigeons.

This was where we ended the session, with the next session presumably going to feature the group investigating the three supposedly abandoned farmsteads!

Froglings of the Enlightened Empire

 So I was in the process of writing a post with random tables and city information for one of the cities in the eastern satrapies, but I realized it referenced a people that hasn't yet been discussed at all on my blog! That's because it is an addition to the setting that I made during my posting hiatus, but I just figured it would be an important thing to post about first!

from The Mandalorian

THE TRAITOR FROGS

When the antediluvian days were waning and the men, women, and sacred ones of the First City were rising, there were some among the sea tyrants who saw their fate, even as the spell to flood the world was being woven. Chief among these were the amphibians, who knew dry land much better than their brethren. The salamanders and the frogs even included some in their number who had visited the First City and dwelt within its walls. The amphibians wanted to keep the land, for they feared that if the whole world became ocean then they would shrivel up in its brackish depths, and they would be consumed by the guilt of the death of humankind. And so, the frogs and salamanders and olms conspired to give humanity magic, to protect them from the horrible flood. It is a frog named Prometheus who is said to have given the first, now long lost, clay tablet of spells to the the thief Keyumars in those long forgotten days. In the telling of events more well known among men, Keyumars simply dove deep into the kingdoms of the sea tyrants and stole it for himself, but those who study the depths of history know better. The first spells for humankind were written in a frog-like hand.

For this, the frogs and salamanders and olms were forced out of the sea and branded as traitors. The traitor frogs fell upon the First City and its surroundings and built a new home there, and began to live among humanity. The traitor newts fled into the wilderness, willing to go along with the frogs' plan to give humans magic but not as enthusiastic about the change. The traitor olms fled into the depths beneath the earth, since they among the three amphibians did not have the physical forms to survive on land. When the sea tyrants began to take over the underground, the olms fought back and to this day that struggle continues. A giant friendly olm is a fine sight for any spelunker in need.

These mythic days are long behind them all, however, and whether there is any truth in the stories of the deeds of the great heroes of the frogs and salamen is a matter for debate. Since the froglings (as they are now called by humanity, although the name "traitor frog" has not left them) descended on the First City after the end of the Deluge, they have been a consistent feature of urban communities. Coastal areas especially, both within the Enlightened Empire and without, very prominently feature frogling communities. They are exiled from the ocean, but often skirt upon its surface on boats, their sails pushed along by the flapping of innumerable fly wings.

The traitor frogs, as the premier masters of magic on the surface world, have developed many unique forms of sorcery. Chief among these is Diptomancy, the art of communication with flies (and other small buzzing/stinging/biting things, although notably bees refuse to speak with diptomancers). This began as a form of divination, ascertaining fate through the shapes of poetically-conditioned fly swarms, but it has developed into a science and an art all its own. During the ancient days of the Warring Kings, there were many frogling principalities lorded over by batrachian sorcerer-kings and mage-mothers, and their spell tablets, secreted away in dank depths and crumbling ruins, hold some of the most powerful spells of history.

I don't intend on having froglings ride on giant frogs but aren't these just so good?

--------------------

I was going to write up a frogling race-class but I'm at a bit of an impasse with regards to what to do with these guys with regards to the players. I could keep them as NPC-exclusive (keeping the game completely human-only as it currently is (technically the amazons, brinemen, and half-jinn are humans)), or make them a race-class (which to me seems a bit weird because they have honestly just as much flexibility as humans do), or fully separate race and class (which I'm worried about how to puzzle through because of how I've boxed myself in with some of the human nations), SO instead of presenting any character information, here are some example diptomancy spells.

BATRACHIAN SPELLS OF THE FROG-KINGS

Fly's Last Meal

Level 1

Duration: Until caster ends

Range: Touch

When this spell is cast, the caster touches a fly and is able to ask this fly any question relating to what it has eaten and what was surrounding it when it ate it. The caster is able to end the interrogation at any point. This spell is often used to find out what happened at the scene of a death, assassination, or murder.

Gust of Fluttering

Level 1

Duration: 6 turns

Range: 120'

A training spell of diptomancy. Any and all flying insects in the area congregate in a point designated by the caster within the spell's range and flap their wings very rapidly. Their fast flapping creates a noticeable wind, which will cause any light objects to be caught up in it. The caster can order the cloud of flies to release a sudden and massive gust of wind in one specified direction, pushing any being or object not too heavy back up to 240'. Doing so causes the cloud of flies to immediately dissipate.

Advanced Gust of Fluttering

Level 2

Duration: 6 hours

Range: 120'

The most commonly learned diptomantic spell. Any and all flying insects in the area congregate in a point designated by the caster within the spell's range and flap their wings very rapidly. This maintains the attention of many more flies than the simpler version. Their flapping creates a noticeable wind, which will cause any light objects to be caught up in it unless it is focused in one direction. The caster can order the cloud of flies to release a continuous gust of wind in one specified direction for up to the spell's entire duration. This gust of wind is strong enough to push heavier objects and creatures.

Item: Barrel of Flies

A common object kept by frogling sailors, the barrel of flies is just what it sounds like: a wooden barrel filled with flying insects. These are usually caught and barreled at "fly-factories" that keep rotting material to grow flies in for sale. When at sea, the frogling sailor-sorcerer has no flying insects around to provide for their advanced gust of fluttering, so the barrel of flies is a must.

Noxious Discharge

Level 3

Duration: 3 turns

Range: 240'

A biting insect emerges from somewhere within the caster's robes, and seeks out the target which the caster points at. The target makes a saving throw vs. poison, failing to do so causing them to begin to incessantly spew forth a stinking corrosive acidic discharge, the very same sort that houseflies use to digest their food. They are unable to take any actions in combat other than struggling against their vomiting, and if they fail a DEX check they also begin to take 1d4 damage every other round as they stumble around and cover themselves with their corrosive vomit. The vomit is able to melt through wood and other organic material.

Mayfly

Level 6

Duration: Indefinite

Range: Sight

The caster points at a target they can see. If they have the ability to feel romantic/sexual attraction, they must make a saving throw vs. death or be overtaken by the instincts of the adult mayfly. Those who do not feel romantic/sexual feelings are immune. If they fail their saving throw, they are overtaken by intense romantic feelings and the need to have a romantic moment with someone, anyone. However, the moment they so much as move away from a kiss or finish up with a romantic dinner, they will die, having fulfilled their immediate goal. The only way to stave this is to stop them from being intimate with anybody, and the only way to end the curse is through a magical ritual.

Spark of Inspiration (The Mad Poet: A Class for King of Kings)

 He appeared now here, now there. He wandered about in the small alleys between the tents and in the bazaar where the merchants and artisans have their stalls. He walked aimlessly, driven only by his aching heart, without heeding the staring eyes; tears springing from under his eyelashes like wild mountain streams. All the time he sang melancholy songs such as lovers are wont to sing in their misery.

When he passed by, people around him shouted: "Look, the Madman, Majnun is coming... Majnun!"

The reins had slipped from the rider's hand. His innermost being was revealed like the heart of a split fruit. He had not only lost his beloved, but also himself. Everyone saw in his face the reflection of the fire scorching his heart, saw the blood running from his wound. He was suffering because of his beloved, but she remained far away. The longer it lasted, the more Qays became Majnun. Burning like a candle, he did not sleep at night and, while he searched for a remedy to cure soul and body, both were filled with deadly pain. Each day, at dusk, the ghosts of his vain hopes chased him out into the desert, barefoot and bareheaded.

Then strange things began to happen. Majnun had been separated from Layla, yet his longing made him the slave of his imprisoned Mistress. A madman he became-- but at the same time a poet, the harp of his love and of his pain.

-The Story of Layla and Majnun, from the Khamsa or Panj Ganj of Nizami Ganjavi

Majnun visited in the wilderness

Not all who hear the whispers of the stars above can handle their poetry. Not everyone receives the kind of training, experience, or rigor that makes a true sorcerer. A spell is more than just a word; it is a stance, a dance, a gesture, a mentality. It is difficult to achieve these things! That is why to be a sorcerer takes dedication, same as to be a true swordsmaster. When the stars deign to whisper into a sleeper's ear, the hearer does not always have such resources or dedication. Often, the words must flow out from their mouths like sweetened honey or poisoned wine, or onto the page in the form of black ink. That is the mad poet, a poet possessed by the maddening glory of the stars above. From which star their dreams come they do not know, for they have not been trained in astrology. They are artists who wear their emotions on their sleeves, and awaken each morning with a new idea on their lips.

Sorry for the shitty pretentious quote and description I just thought it would set the mood. Oh also for those who don't know majnun basically means "bejinned" or "the jinn-haunted/jinn-possessed", translating is kinda hard.

No clue what this is but doesn't it look cool?

The Mad Poet

Requirements: None

Prime Requisite: CHA

Hit Dice: 1d6

Combat Bonus: 1/2 level, rounded down

Armor: Leather, chain, no shields

Weapons: All except polearms, two-handed swords, and warhammers (no big military-type weapons basically)

Languages: Shahanistani, one additional language

XP to Level 2: 2,300

Lyricist

The mad poet is an able lyricist. They know all about the art of poetry, and their reputation as an artist precedes them. Their poetry is moving and beautiful to the ear. If they write a poem, speech, or song for a particular purpose (persuading a given character, communicating a plan, inspiring love or hatred, etc), there is a base 1-in-6 chance of it being successful (i.e. convincing its reader/listener, etc). You have to be fluent in the language of the reader/listener for this to have any success. The chance of success increases by 1 every third level (2-in-6 at level 4, 3-in-6 at level 7, etc). You can receive a +1 modifier if you have a preexisting relationship with the reader/listener.

Madness

Just as their reputation as an artist precedes them, so too does their madness. People will treat you strangely, and often rather dismissively or patronizingly. You are often called mad, and the effect of the whispers on your personality can be determined with the table below.

Mystic Whispers

Every night in their fitful sleep, the mad poet receives feverish whispers from the stars. They remember them only partially, and have to decipher their meaning and purpose by piecing them together. You receive a number of mystic words equal to your level + 2 (3 at level 1, 4 at level 2, etc), which you can speak aloud to produce magical effects. These can be spoken singly or in combination, but the particular effect must be determined by discussion with the referee. You roll for new mystic words every morning, and any words you knew the day before are abandoned. The die you roll increases with level: 1d6 at level 1, 1d8 at level 3, 1d10 at level 5, 1d12 at level 7, 1d20 at level 9. The table for mystic words changes depending on certain moon phases and auspicious (or inauspicious) stars. When mystic words are spoken aloud, make a saving throw vs. magic, with a penalty equal to the number of words spoken in excess of 1. On a failure, roll on the magical mishap table. You lose a mystic word when it is spoken. Actually writing up said table and all of the special mystic words tables is going to be for another day however.

Saving Throws

Mad poets save as magic-users, but receive +2 to saving throws against illusion effects.

Scrolls

Mad poets are able to take their mystic words (see below) and scrawl them on paper to create scrolls. This takes one week and 100 drachmae per mystic word vested in the scroll. Since these words are trapped in a paper prison, they do not dissipate until spoken; the mad poet permanently loses that many words until the scroll is used. For instance, if a level 1 mad poet creates a scroll with two mystic words on it, from then on they only receive 1 mystic word each day. Creating a scroll does, however, allow non-spellcasters to use the magical effect even if the mad poet is not present. Most magical scrolls were penned by desperate madmen attempting to get the whispers out of their head and onto paper, and the scroll burns into nothing but ashes when its words are spoken aloud, casting the spell and opening the poet's head to the stars.

EFFECTS OF THE WHISPERS TABLE (roll 1d12)

1: Obsession with a particular number

2: Rapid mood swings

3: Fear of clowns (you don't quite know what they are, but you have seen visions of them and you hate them)

4: Intense paranoia

5: Claustrophobia

6: Poor anger control

7: You walk on all fours

8: Almost always crying

9: Can't stop dancing

10: Anxious around people, calm around animals

11: Anxious around animals, calm around inanimate objects

12: You believe you are already dead and rotting

(To be clear, the discussion of "madness" and such here isn't reflective of how I see or treat neurodiverse people, and more about exploring how neurodiversity has been treated historically/in fiction)

Portion of a magic scroll from Ethiopia

AN EXAMPLE MYSTIC WORDS TABLE

1: Light

2: Rough

3: Egg

4: Strong

5: Dark

6: Warm

7: Fire

8: Child

9: New

10: Soft

11: Pain

12: Owl

13: Steel

14: Blood

15: Muscle

16: Tooth

17: Love

18: Snake

19: Ax

20: Old

A multi-purpose magical mishap table is forthcoming.

Be a Good Listener. Encourage Others to Talk About Themselves.

 So you know how beholders are big spheres all covered with eyes? Well what if they were all ears!

This is just a monster that I'm writing for fun based on an idea that came to me a few days ago. I'm (probably) not gonna use it in King of Kings, so this isn't going to have any of the assumptions of that setting in it. Just a fun unique monster for old school roleplaying games!

Eavesdropper

Armor Class: 14

Hit Dice: 6

Attacks: 2 bonks (1d4) or 1 spell

To-Hit: +3

Saving Throws: D10/W11/P12/B13/S14

Morale: 6

Alignment: Neutral

XP: 500

Number Appearing: 1d3 (1d6)

Yeah I cut movement from this what of it? I'm not gonna bother with that stuff anymore.

Bonk: The only real mode of attack for the eavesdropper is a bonk from its hard but flexible trumpet. If the trumpet is torn off, the eavesdropper loses the ability to make melee attacks and must immediately make a morale check.

Flight: Eavesdroppers can fly with the use of their ear-wings. They cannot magically float, and must flap their wings to even remain in the air. This produces a noticeable noise similar to a canvas flapping in the wind.

Sound Sensitivity: The eavesdropper is sensitive to loud noises, being stunned for 1d4 rounds if it fails a save vs. paralysis when it hears a very loud sound (such as a cave-in, explosion, tyrannosaur roaring, etc)

Sound-Stealing: Eavesdroppers are unable to produce their own original sounds, and instead must steal sounds from others or from their environment. The eavesdropper can steal the words right out of a person's mouth as they are spoken. Eavesdroppers can steal any normal word, phrase, or sentence as it is spoken. If it is attempting to steal a magical spell as it is being cast, the spellcaster must make a save vs. spells to not lose the spell immediately. After stealing a sound, it can repeat it with complete perfect accuracy, as if it was just spoken or produced. Once it repeats a sound, it loses it forever.

Spellcasting: If the eavesdropper stole a spell, it is able to cast it. It must choose between casting a spell or bonking. There is a 2-in-6 chance that the eavesdropper has already acquired a spell. Determine spells acquired randomly.

Eavesdroppers are anxious and self-conscious little things no bigger than a barrel or the top half of a human body (torso+head), every inch of their spherical bodies covered in ears of various sizes. They are cursed with an inability to speak their mind or use their words, and must instead steal words from others in order to repeat them with perfect precision. This leaves them terribly depressed, feeling that they are unable to assert themselves or have any real independent thoughts, doubly so because each precious sound that they hear is immediately lost upon being repeated. The saddest of all eavesdroppers are those who dwell in cavern depths, incessantly repeating the dripping of water off of stalactites. Certain very clever eavesdroppers are able to piece together sentences from words and phrases they've heard, but since they lose each sound upon repeating it this is rather fleeting. They have beautiful minds filled with thoughts and ideas, and no way to express them.

Their ability to steal words, including the words of power that make up magical spells, makes them quite sought after by sorcerers and spymasters of all sorts. Since the eavesdropper is unable to say how it is feeling, however, these are mostly very unequal relations. A spymaster with an eavesdropper servant may keep it in a cage, while a heinous sorcerer may trap the eavesdropper in a box of complete silence. Kinder masters feed their eavesdroppers words for them to repeat, effectively giving their ear-slave the gift of speech. Most eavesdroppers don't like the situations they are forced into.

The young of an eavesdropper are called evenings, and appear as a complete smooth sphere of skin with two disproportionately large ears. They cannot yet fly, and crawl on the ground with their ears. Eavesdropper parents will often hide a nest somewhere they think is safe and return to give their young sounds to repeat in order to develop their noise-trumpets.

Here is a very quick doodle of one sleeping (since they have to flap their wings to fly, when they sleep they're just slumped over on the floor)

The Nume-serpent (A Monster for King of Kings)

Just a nice little monster for today... a bit of creative block has me caught between different ideas right now, but I've had adapting this little guy to King of Kings on my mind for a week or two. I say "adapting" because this is a new version of a monster I came up with for a setting years ago, a design that has stuck with me for quite some time. Also this post features some of my own art!

To the east there sits the march of Numistan, the Land of Coins. A mountainous and looming land, it is bisected by the domain of the King of Kings of the Enlightened Empire on the western flank and the kingdom of the southern Dog-Headed Men on the eastern flank. Its rocky outcroppings are rich with gold and silver, and lapis lazuli to boot, and so the mountain valleys have been fought over by enemy empires and feuding kings over the centuries. Its air is filled with the smoke of burning villages and coin mints. Great statues carved into the sides of mountains gaze across the horizon like blind gods. Ancient cities reborn with every conquest sit in isolated mountain valleys, their walls bedecked with rugs.

In the valleys of Numistan, there dwells a creature called the Nume-serpent. This furry little worm has a single eye which rolls around in its socket as it wriggles in the dirt and hides in the tall grasses. They can imitate sounds to trick their prey (mostly rodents and insects), and sometimes have been known to mimic the sounds of the hammers that bend the coins into shape, or the crackling of fire, or misunderstood snippets of speech they hear on the edges of human settlements. Nume-serpents despise gold and all things that hoard gold (whether greedy men, hungry ants, or magpie gryphons). They seem to panic whenever they see the glittering stuff, and are known to bury coins or chunks of gold in a desperate attempt to stop anything from finding it. Seekers after gold who travel through Numistan say that the surest way to find the glittering stuff is to see where the nume-serpents are not, or where they flee from in disgust. The nume-serpent is an anxious little thing.

The nume-serpent is sometimes kept as a pet. The merchants of the mountain passes and the desert roads bring forth their caged nume-serpent to see whether coin is true gold or not; if a coin is a forgery, the nume-serpent will likely curl around it rather than flee in terror. The nobles of the lands west of Numistan find the little creatures a fun novelty. They wear them draped on their shoulders as living stoles, and teach them silly little phrases to show off their mimicry, and put them in silly little hats. The serpents likely resent this. Spies and assassins keep nume-serpents for their weak venom. It is not a deadly nor paralytic venom; it simply weakens one's muscles slowly.

Nume-serpent

Armor Class: 11

Hit Dice: 1-1

Attacks: 1 x bite (1d6 + weakening venom)

To-Hit: +0

Movement: 90' (30')

Saving Throws: D12/W13/P14/B15/S16

Morale: 4

Alignment: Neutral

XP: 7

Number Appearing: 1d6 (2d6)

Atrophy Venom: The venomous fangs of the nume-serpent secrete a soft venom that weakens muscles. If successfully hit, save vs paralysis or take -1 to all rolls that involve physical exertion. Take an additional -1 every subsequent turn.

Aversion to Gold: When presented with gold in any form, the nume-serpent will attempt to flee or hide. If gold is presented with no other creatures around, the nume-serpent will attempt to bury it. 

Mimicry: Nume-serpents are able to imitate with incredible accuracy any sound that they hear. The imitation is made more accurate just by listening to the sound repeatedly.

The nume-serpent is a new rendition of a creature concept I came up with for one of my earliest D&D worlds. At the time I called it a gnomesnake, and it was a venomous one-eyed furry serpent wearing a gnome hat, intelligent and living in small villages in tall grasses. These are admittedly less intelligent than the original version, but I think the concept here is made even more interesting by the connection to gold and such... In my mind, the gnomesnake, now nume-serpent, is an iconic creature of mine, at least to me. I'm happy to have them in King of Kings; the first time I've used them since at least five years ago.

Too Much of a Good Thing (A Monster for King of Kings)

The alchemists of the First City, capital of the Enlightened Empire, have isolated the components of air. A foolish endeavor in the eyes of just about everyone else, nobody trusts them when they talk about such abstract notions as "oxygen" and "nitrogen", though there are rumors that agents in service of the Gnostic Elves are seeking out such treatises. It is common knowledge that air is simply a firmament through which the light of the holy blessed God travels. The alchemists are surely wrong.

In the antediluvian days, when the Sea Tyrants held sway over the whole of the world, they would poison the air and the water through mysterious means. Even to this day, there are patches of earth strangled by forgotten machinations, with no plant life clinging to the skeletal dusty dirt. Only the most learned scholars are aware of this fact and who did it.

Nobody knows how.

Oxygenator

Armor Class: 8

Hit Dice: 10 hp (mobile form) or 30 hp (sessile form)

Attacks: see below

To-Hit: N/A

Movement: 12' (4')

Saving Throws: D8/W9/P10/B10/S12

Morale: 12

Alignment: Neutral

XP: 100

Number Appearing: 2d6 (in mobile form unless otherwise specified)

Damage Resistance: Oxygenators take half damage from all bludgeoning weapons and all non-magical slashing and stabbing weapons.

Damage Weakness: Oxygenators take double damage from fire. They are weak to certain salves and rubs.

Hyperoxia: Oxygenators produce excessive amounts of oxygen, causing oxygen poisoning. Oxygen poisoning only begins to take effect if the oxygenators are in a small contained area or in direct contact with an air-breathing subject. For every turn (when in a contained space) or every round (when in direct contact), make a save vs. poison. Track how many failed saves have been made by each air-breathing subject in the area:

1: nausea and confusion (-1 to all rolls (incl. saves))

2: tunnel vision (-1 to attack rolls (-2 including the above penalty) and AC)

3: drowsiness (-1 to all rolls (incl. saves))

4: convulsions (disadvantage on attack rolls, half movement)

5: uncontrollable vomiting (cannot take any actions other than moving)

6: fall unconscious

7: amnesia (lose a level)

8: instant death

Mobility: Oxygenators can alternate between a slow oozelike mobile form and a sessile form in the appearance of a lumpy column. They cannot move when in the sessile form. It has a much lower HP amount in the mobile form, and any damage sustained in mobile form is maintained when it transforms into its sessile state. It will automatically switch to its sessile form if it reaches 2 HP. They are especially dangerous in the mobile form, since they can crawl onto the faces of air-breathing creatures to accelerate the process of hyperoxia.

The mobile form might look more or less like good ol' fashioned green slime (though more mobile so its not just doomed to dripping)

Okay breaking the whole in-character style of the beginning of this post to talk about what this thing actually is. The oxygenator is a colony of oxygenating bacteria held in a matrix of green algae and animated by sea tyrant sorcery. It was developed as a weapon of war during the incessant skirmishing between rival fish lords. Hyperoxia and oxygen poisoning are real conditions that were one of the largest inspirations behind this creature, and the effects of the failed saving throws are based directly on actual symptoms of oxygen poisoning (though usually it takes you longer than 80 minutes to die from it lol). This actually isn't the first time this creature has appeared in my game worlds; The World With No Name, which is the setting that I ran my games in in high school, featured an antediluvian empire of Cambrian overlords who used these bacterial beasts to make areas inhabitable in a nearly oxygen-less world. There are still Cambrian influences on the Sea Tyrants in King of Kings, but they're primarily Devonian and Carboniferous in inspiration, so turned the original purpose behind this thing's creation to one more suitable to the more developed/evolved antediluvian overlords.