Thursday, May 28, 2020

d66/d18 Monsters of the Low Moon Itself.

On the far edge of the Taiga/Tundra, where it meets the Deep Ice, the Moon hangs so low it’s like you could pluck it from the night sky.


Under the right circumstances, if you try this, you will find yourself instantly transported there. This is not the only way.


Not utterly unlike our own moon - craters, mountains, dust, rocks, a dark side – but it’s a dungeon-studded, factional, fantasy wilderness.


D&D adjacent if not system agnostic, and not balanced for probabilities.




Lunar Puddings.

Probably clustered in a crater waiting for the sun to charge them up. Less aggressive and less corrosive (½ damage) than Black Puddings – they won’t automatically try to eat you. They go to the dark side to hunt, radiating their solar charge as a slow effect. Cannot consume lunar metals (mercury, silver, magnesium), stone, crystal or glass.


Gargantuan Shriekers.

Sequoia-trunked mushrooms clustered mainly on the moon’s dark side – your efforts are too small and feeble to activate them, but their collective shrieks could level cities – who knows what predators that would attract?


d666 Ghouls.

Not just Ghouls, but d666 Ghouls, so a minimum of 111. There’s not much flesh to be found on the moon, so they’re going to be ravenous, mad with hunger. Only a few of these undead will have intact/ functioning hearing organs.


d66 Wights.

Fortunately for them, an energy level doesn’t need to be drawn from a fleshy or even living thing. But it has made them strange, and they do still desire mortal life energy.


Pearl Jelly.

Lachrymiform translucent ooze-monster. Slowly drags itself around or squats in one place, wobbling. If you lock eyes with something through it, you transfix and hypnotise each other. As well as leaving you both largely helpless and abnormally suggestible during this time, at some point the jelly will identify you as prey and hurl itself at you in a writhing coil of voracious pseudopods. Unintelligent, but migrate across space on moonbeams.


Cube Warriors.

From 5 to 10’ in each dimension, these metallic cubes are remnants of some long-lost civilisation. When activated they sprout a leg and an arm from each face and take up whatever arms are available. No one has ever tried talking to one, or noticed the subtle features etched into their surfaces.


Lost Goblins.

There shouldn’t be any Goblins on the moon, but they sometimes end up here having got lost while travelling by moonlight. They don’t like being on the moon (because Goblin magic doesn’t work here) and they can’t get back the way they came.


Gargantuan Undead Shrieker (1).

Effectively a Wight, with an energy drain touch. Utterly silent. With the right precautions they are a source of exotic resources and won’t object to being hollowed out/ strip mined.



Maintain a base/staging post/space port on the dark side of the moon. If you’ve made it as far as the moon, they’ll consider you worth talking to (but not as anything like equals). Field generators on the Astral Plane hide it from Ultraterrestrial Mi-Go.


Insect Mummies.

A lot more Mummies than you’d normally encounter and not of a humanoid species. Prefer their airless, dusty cave-cities and the ageless, fathomless darkness than being disturbed by the living (or other undead). Like the sensation of being full of warm blood.


Green Spore (1).

Splice an underwhelming, low intelligence Beholder or Beholderkin with a Gas Spore and an Ascomid. Spore blasts and Violet Fungus tentacles instead of eye rays. Quivering lens of watery jelly instead of a central eye. No bite or mouth, but it looks like it’s very glum.


Mercury Nymphs.

Mercury in the shape of fem. presenting humanoids, elementals that adapt their appearance to the expectations of the observer. Mesmerising colours play across their shining skin. Their touch is poisonous to mortals, but they do not understand this. Rapidly learn any language spoken to them, but will forget it once they cannot practice. Mildly telepathic.


Dust Gnomes.

Pangolin-like humanoids no higher than your knee. Live in clifftop burrows where the Wights can’t get at them. Herd and ride Strider Fungus. Rolled into a ball, they are impervious to most normal attacks, crushing and falls (poison gas works). Very high mineral content (iron, magnesium, starmetal) and mercury for blood means Ghouls won’t eat them. Unfriendly, but will negotiate for trade.


Starmetal Pleiad (1).

Meteor Nymph from deep space, formed of starmetal (whatever you want that to be), and able to extrude protective plates and offensive flanges to become a war-machine. Tough and fair enough to not need to be hostile, but is a galactic peacekeeper you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.


The Wight Queen (1).

She is very beautiful for an ancient hungry undead thing. If Wights as-a-rule are unintelligent and speechless, she is the exception. Has a radiance that extends her energy drain. Commands the Wights of the moon, but this might be due to a magic item. Has no court or castle, save where she settles at the time. Even though she wanders alone, there will be Ghouls and Wights to call on if need be.


Strider Fungus.

Woody mushrooms with three to seven stems each, standing up to 15’ tall. If disturbed, they will stampede like herd animals.


Magnesium Nymphs.

Look like they’re tightly wrapped in metallic bandages. Languages and telepathy like Mercury Nymphs. Only mildly curious about any business but their own, and not hostile. Unharmed by, but if exposed to fire, they instantly blaze with an intense white flame: will blind/ dazzle you for 4d6 hours if you don’t look away or protect your eyes. While blazing, they are berserkers. Show remorse afterwards.


Ultraterrestrial Mi-Go (1-3).

Accompanied by hideous electronic shrieking buzzing darkness that causes the living to spontaneously haemorrhage - they bring their own dimension with them as they cannot survive long in mundane space. Looking at or near them makes you ill. Treat mundane space Mi-Go as Mi-Go treat mortals.


1 comment:

  1. I am filled with imagination juice! Fabulous stuff