Thursday, December 19, 2024

"No Holidays This Season!" - Secret Santicor(e/n) 2024

Prompt from Errant Thinking was:

"No Holidays this Season!" a paperboy cries the headlines in the cold. The player characters found themselves snowed in at this depressing place where its less city living & more dystopian surviving. The city's inhabitants either limp along in rags or have bundled up their black hearts in silk next to their bulging wallets. People are vile to one another and take what they can get. Craft a short adventure for the players to bring the holiday cheer to the folks of this dreary city. A heist against the rich to redistribute the wealth? A violent revolution? Honest toil to aid a burly bearded man in red? Reminding the rich of the holiday spirit? Detail the setting, key characters, & rumors that motivate potential solutions (or inform sources of the conflict).

Not so much an adventure - a campaign/setting, sketched in a similar vein to the Barrowmere and Noisy Valley, or one of the old White Dwarf Fiend factory scenarios, or any of my d66 [monsters] of [location] posts.

The 'missing module' for the Quariks to feature in.

The Setting.

The world is in the grip of an Ice Age and you are all Men, Isolated in a/the City that it is, to all intents and purposes, all that remains of humanity.

The City (and civilisation) is sustained by the heat and power of the Sacred Flame.

The Sacred Flame in the Palace of the Fire Lords is the centre of this little universe. The Palace lies at the heart of the Labyrinth, surrounded by the City. 

It's much like a normal settlement, considering the circumstances - but this is all anyone has known for generations. Wretched inbred hundreds in tottering shacks or a bustling metropolis under impenetrable crystal domes. It can be New Stone Age, pseudo-medieval, science-fantastic, steampunk, science-fictional. In the end, the set-up is the same.

There might be some surviving mortal who remembers the end of the world that was, but more likely you'll need to plunder forgotten/sealed archives, hold a seance, locate a supressed archaeological dig.

Everyone wants to stay close to the Sacred Flame - it's life sustaining.

The City sits on a rock just breaking the surface of the Sea of Bones - limitless snow and ice in all directions, littered with remains of giants, great beasts, defeated armies, desperate fugitives, vessels and machinery of the past.

Beyond that, the Great Void - the howling/silent dark where the sun is too feeble to shine. Why would you even try to get there? So far from the Sacred Flame, at/beyond the limit of endurance and supplies.

Low-level. Metal-poor. Limited magic. 

Economy, Ecology and Technology.

Things get made and things get traded, and special things get scavenged or improvised from bits found on the Sea of Bones. The equivalents of a merchant and a leisure class. Specialists. Celebrities? Outcasts? Journalism and social media? Monorails and pneumatic elevators, if you like.

Mainly hand-weapons and low/no armour. If it was Earth all along (or similar) there might be firearms from the world before. Energy weapons perceived as arcane or divine.

The narrative convenience of dungeon analogues for common resources. Including edible monsters and the things they feed on. Mutant mushrooms that serve as a timber analogue.

Have sufficient bland rations and clean water emerge from the Labyrinth periodically - "Thank the Fire Lords!" 

There's definitely rats (big and small) in the City. Maybe foxes/jackals. Giant spiders.

Monster predators and prey out on the ice rely on micro-ecosystems for support - the pyramid based in dungeon flora inside mountain peaks, ice burrows, and the more extensive wrecks. 

The Cast.

By statblock/description, rather than RAW. 

Normal Humans: that's most folks in the City. 

They work the mines for fuel, forage the Sea of Bones for materials, ply what trades they can, obey the Fire Lords through the Acolytes, and wait either for the Change and to go to the Fire Lords, or for the sun to set forever.

From AC9 - this applies generally to the people of the City:

  • take great pride in their culture and achievements
  • willingly die for their leaders believing that in doing so they become supernatural beings
  • it is considered a great honour to be called to the Firelords' Palace, where it is believed the person dwells in ecstasy forever
  • they do not doubt the wisdom of their leaders and they point to the warmth and majesty of their city as proof of the Firelords' power and beneficence
  • see themselves as a people blessed, for their gods live amongst them
  • it is not their place in life to doubt the actions of the gods
  • none of them are aware of the Firelords' true appearance

This is a para/post-apocalyptic dystopia, of course, but that doesn't mean it can't be superficially pleasant and fulfilling.

Man, Isolated - Quarik (AC9 Creature Catalogue/DMR2 Creature Catalog): most folks should be showing signs of the Change by their twenties, and advance to 2 HD. 

They also get a special feature, so roll d6:

  1. Strength 15-18
  2. Death-white skin
  3. Pale blue eyes and hair
  4. Protruding fangs
  5. Hairy feet
  6. Sharp downward curving claws which are used to grip the ice

On a 5 or 6, the Acolytes deem you ready to go to the Fire Lords. 

For narrative purposes, no one has made the connection between being deemed ready to go to the Fire Lords and having clawed and/or hairy feet, and think it is divined by the arcane science of the Acolytes of the Fire Lords.

Man, Isolated - Cynidiceans (B4 The Lost City; AC9 Creature Catalogue/DMR2 Creature Catalog): those who don't show signs of the Change turn to dreams, drink and drugs. After all, they cannot go to the Fire Lords.

Their hit penalty is because they're perpetually addled, but they can otherwise continue their trades. 

They spend their leisure time in hallucinatory activities off of the d12 table in B4 The Lost City.

Even if their behaviour is open and tolerated, it is looked on with pity and/or distaste. How illegal and supressed it is will depend on how you're running the City.

AcolytesGuardians and interpreters of the will of the Fire Lords. Touched by their divinity.

Responsible for the day-to-day running of the City. Acolytes are a very visible presence. 

They will have d3 special features of the Change.

If a 5 or 6 comes up, they are ready to go to the Fire Lords. But are they truly believers?

If an Acolyte has spells, they are drawn from the following list:

  1. haste - double actions and win Initiative 1 round/level
  2. dance - as a Tarantella's bite, 1 subject/level
  3. blink - as a Blink Dog, once per round, 1 round/level
  4. awe - all within sight with HD/level equal or less than the character are unable to act for max. 1 round/level or until they are out of sight (no save)
  5. fireball - for d6 htk per level, +1 adjacent target per level, burns as for flaming oil
  6. charm - as a Vampire for 1 round/level, max. 1 subject/level
  7. deafen & stun - +1 adjacent target per level, duration 1 round/level
  8. chain lightning - for d6 htc per level, +1 nearby target per level (preference for metal armoured/equipped), anyone taken to 0 hp or less must save or die (otherwise, non-lethal)
Mediums: Dwellers in the Labyrinth, secret eyes and ears of the Fire Lords

They will have d3 special features of the Change.

If a 5 or 6 comes up, they are ready to go the Fire Lords. But do they want to rule rather than to serve?

They have only strictly controlled access to communal spellbooks, meaning that no Medium will have memorised the same spell(s) as another under normal circumstances.

Mediums are a secret presence in the City. The Acolytes may not even be aware of them, depending on how you envisage the power-structures of the setting.

The PCs: However you make up the party, you are were all born and raised in the City - there's been nothing else for generations. Most of you will be Fighters or Thieves (or even unlevelled).

If you're a Cynidicean, you might even be (these particular) Druids.

If you're an Acolyte, you have Cleric levels and responsibilities. 

If you're a Medium, you have a secret identity (unless you're playing an all-Medium game) and secret orders (even if you're playing an all-Medium game).

You could all be cohort of Quariks ready to go to the Fire Lords, decked out in flame-coloured finery.

Reskin ye olde demi-human races-as-class characters as humans belonging to specialist professions or a particular caste (eg. miner-engineers, scavenger-rangers, scouts/spies).

The Fire Lords.

Per AC9 Creature Catalogue/DMR2 Creature Catalog): eight living gods who dwell forever in the Palace and sustain the City. 

Only their benevolent maintenance of the Sacred Flame can sustain humanity against the final setting of the sun.

No one has seen them and survived their glory, except - presumably - those who go to them with proper pomp and ceremony. Doctrine tells us this is a good thing, but also remains a mystery.

Tradition and artistic licence portrays them as well-built, luxuriantly bearded, dressed in flame-coloured garments trimmed with the fur of extinct/mythical beasts. Often, they are given branching antlers and/or haloes to signify their divinity.

They don't have to be villainously evil (see below), but they aren't selfless by any stretch and they definitely think they're your betters.

From AC 9:

  • the Firelords control all aspects of the city (in our case, via the Acolytes and Mediums)
  • they ensure (survival) in the harsh conditions
  • the Firelords live in a majestic palace.... from where they control/provide heating for the city
  • appear as mighty supernatural beings (though they rarely, if ever, put in appearance)
  • as written, 8th to 15th level Magic Users
  • as written, the Firelords exploit their subjects' fanaticism by actively preying on them
  • as written, those entering the palace are consumed alive by the cannibalistic Firelords
  • as written, the Firelords have an unimposing appearance; they are short and thin, with straggly grey hair and sharp needle-like teeth.

The Ninth Fire Lord: whisper it - there is another. 

Say it out loud enough, you get a visit from the Acolytes (everyone will know what happens to you) or the Mediums (no one will know what happened to you).

The ninth Fire Lord is usually represented - if it all - as a glowing red orb, sometimes a mere dot against the black of the sky or the white of the ice. Very rare depictions portray them as smaller than the other Fire Lords, in orange garments trimmed with commonplace furs, and a beard of icicles.

The ninth Fire Lord is in opposition (in thought, if not deed) to the others, but that does not mean they are any less self-serving or villainous.

The Holiday/The Season.

Calendar is kept by marking tally or counting machines. You might be able use the distant stars at night, but the weak sun barely separates day from night. The snow and ice means that it can be Christmas every day for all we care.

Every nine months, there is a period of celebration as those going through the Change are found to be ready to go to the Fire Lords. Somewhat incidental to this is the general celebration of the birth of a new generation, the continued survival of the City and the people, and the ever-loving glory of the Fire Lords.

The celebrations can be as austere or as bacchanalian, as private and personal or as public, as you prefer for your table. Blood sacrifice and ritual immolations to taste. Reminders that the City is blessed and its people grateful and obedient, and not to think too hard or look elsewhere for answers.

The main event is the latest cohort to go to the Fire Lords entering the Labyrinth to journey to the Palace and therein dwell in ecstasy forever.

Why No Holidays This Season?

  1. No one is ready to go to the Fire Lords. The Acolytes can still pick a cohort to send into the Labyrinth (because they control the divination/lottery), but it shakes their faith keeping up the pretence. If this has been going on for a while, it's generating discontented whispers.
  2. No new generation has been born - or the new generation has not survived/has gone missing.
  3. The Fire Lords have fallen silent in the Palace. No prayers are heard, no prophecies spoken. Does the light seem dimmer? The atmosphere colder, less comfortable? Ambitious rivals look to fill the power vacuum.
  4. The Sacred Flame is guttering (literally or figuratively). Could it go out entirely? This might mean that the mines are running dry, that the Ice Devil is growing stronger, that those faceless traceless saboteurs we've been warned about are real. 
  5. There's Something in/on the Ice and it wants to get inside. Real, imagined, constructed - tensions rise, trust is hard to come by. Could be protean predator mimic. Could be intelligent White (Snow) Apes.
  6. Discontented whispers through all parts of society. Malcontents are forming alliances. Will the Fire Lords stand by and just let the Acolytes and Mediums deal with it, or will they act directly? Is it a genuine movement, or a false flag as part of cruel political machinations?

The Sacred Flame.

What the Sacred Flame actually is provides important context. 

The people of the City do not need to know the details - it's all the blessing of the Fire Lords.

  1. Fire Elementals. Controlled by the Fire Lords, per AC9. Not necessarily grateful or quick to depart if freed.
  2. Geothermal/Volcanic. So the City can go out in a pulp-adventure blaze of fire and brimstone. Plus, lava tunnels and poison gas zones as dungeon locations.
  3. Coal-fired/Steampunk. For gritty industrial chic. NPCs have appropriate regional accents (Cornish, Geordie, Welsh, and Yorkshire for me).
  4. Nuclear Power. Crashed space-ship or remnant of the world before. Possibly magitech. Possibly an undischarged super-weapon.
  5. Failure to Launch. The engine of the last/only Ark meant to outrun the encroaching Ice Age and take humanity to more hospitable stars.
  6. Fire Demons. A pact that must be maintained (every nine months, you say?) or all Hell will break loose.

*The Ice Devil.

The asterisk is for optional.

That the Sacred Flame provides heat, light, power is incidental. 

Its main purpose is to contain the Ice Devil.

The visual I have in mind is this one by Gary Ward & Edward Crosby from Caverns of the Snow Witch, but - if it comes to it - you can use the D&D Ice Devil/Gelugon statblock.

A perpetual state of thaw means it cannot fully manifest in the mortal sphere, nor can it safely dematerialise and return to the netherworlds.

* The satanic steam generated can also turn tartarean turbines to provide pandemoniacal power. Can also provide therapeutic/mutating steam baths.

Roll d6:

  1. The Fire Lords worship it as a captive god.
  2. The Fire Lords hold it hostage to tap for mana.
  3. The Fire Lords contain it so that humanity can survive (it would destroy the City and drag everyone to Hell).
  4. The Fire Lords contain it to prevent the final freezing of the world (they, through their mishandling of the Ice Devil, are responsible for the Ice Age).
  5. The Fire Lords do not know about the Ice Devil - it is actually slowly accumulating over generations and its eventual full manifestation as the herald of Fimbulvetr can only be delayed.
  6. The Fire Lords do not know about the Ice Devil - it is trapped by accident, not design, and would be (somewhat) grateful if freed (either by full freeze or benign dismissal).

Portentous Discoveries.

  1. It's a Cookbook! The basic portentous discovery, that the Fire Lords are not benevolent gods but in fact feeding on the people. If straight cannibalism isn't enough, then they could be Vampires or Minotaurs or each is the head of some kind of dracohydra.
  2. The Great Forest. At the limits of endurance (unless you had, say, hairy feet and ice claws) and supplies and cartography there is a taiga/tundra zone. It's just an Ice Age - not the end of the world.
  3. The Land Beyond the Great Forest. In a further apocalyptic plot twist, there's nothing but blood suckers beyond the taiga/tundra, and they're starting to encroach in numbers. You might favour a new world order of Vampires looking to breed humanity like cattle; I favour swarms of furry Stirges ravening for the last warm blood as the sun finally sets.
  4. Forbidden Artefacts. However they come to light, they point to a very different way of life than the one laid down by the Fire Lords. Faith is shaken, mysteries demand resolution, bargains and betrayals. These things carry a curse - radiation or just that someone will kill you over them. Even the little doll that says "mama".
  5. Cave Paintings. Showing the eight Fire Lords as skull-faced, horned, bedecked in entrails and flayed skins, devouring Quariks with hairy feet and ice claws. The ninth Fire Lord shown at some remove, in an attitude of disgust and/or remorse, and pointing away from the Sacred Flame. Other revelations to taste.
  6. A New Sun. Just the faintest glimmer of red on the horizon, getting stronger as the darkness deepens. Theologically, it must be a false light - the ninth Fire Lord tempting the faithful to turn their backs on truth and salvation. Could it be another City? Or yet another extinction level event in the making?
  7. You Were Made. Genetically engineered to adapt to the Ice Age conditions descending on the world. Once fully Changed, you would be able to survive in the new world without need of the Fire Lords and the Sacred Flame. 
  8. You're Not the Only Ones. Out on the ice, under the ground, in the Great Forest, living in other Cities. Engineered adaptations might mean they look very little like you - how about a Change that brings Cryions into play?

Obviously, that there's an Ice Devil at the centre of your little universe would count, too.

*Feature Monsters.

Gargoyles. No more than 2-16 within d3 hexes/travel days of the City. 

A raid on the City will be made by d3 Gargoyles, and they attempt to carry off one juicy human. Their fearsome reputation and apparent invulnerability makes this an almost foregone conclusion. 

If the Acolytes cannot field enough offensive spell-casting to prevent it, they will diagnose a lack of faith.

Defeat a Gargoyle to be seen as unusually capable/powerful - only multiple desperate souls with Acolyte support have even managed to drive them off.

Gargoyle lairs are piled high with the bones of years of meals.

If you encounter a Gargoyle more than 3 travel days/hexes from the City, then it is within d3 hexes/travel days of an alternative long-term source of toothsome prey.

Giant Fire Beetles: Found almost everywhere - natural anti-freeze and a lack of predators. Mostly non-aggressive.

In the City, they are thought of better than rats and foxes (which they help keep down the numbers of), as long as they don't get in your business.

Their glowing nodules are sought as decorations during the holiday season.

They are barely edible and you can't survive on them for any length of time without accumulative poisoning.

Hellhounds: The lower the HD, the more are potentially encountered (ie. 1 @ 7 HD, 2 to 8 @ 3 HD).

No one has tracked their sulphurous snow-melt trail and the appetising aroma of roasted flesh back to a lair, to the extent that it is thought that they live permanently on the ice, that they do not sleep, that they reproduce by parthenogenesis or fission.

As no one survives a direct confrontation with them, they have been styled by the Acolytes as ceaselessly vigilant guardians of the City and another blessing of the Fire Lords. It might even be true, in a way (check for gold bracelets - see below).

If a scavenger or miner on the Sea of Bones is dragged off, then the diagnosis is lack of faith.

Ice Age Megafauna: if there's a taiga/tundra zone, for sure. Otherwise, exceptional individuals in extreme hibernation that will not last out the Fimbulvetr and wake up extremely grouchy if disturbed.

They have a cumulatively diminishing dice roll penalty on awakening, as their muscles loosen up and senses sharpen with activity. They will be hungry.

Living Statues: these seem like absolutely thematically appropriate monsters for the Labyrinth and the Palace.

Each wears a gold bracelet that acts as conduit for their control by the Fire Lords (and/or the Acolytes and/or the Mediums). It is also affects living beings that put one on or has one put on them.

Crystal Living Statues can be Ice instead - adjust statblock/abilities accordingly..

Iron Living Statues can be red-hot (and possibly filled with molten metal) - adjust statblock/abilities accordingly.

*Survival Mode.

Do Not Let Us Die In The Dark Night Of This Cold Winter and There's Something In The Ice both have cold-weather, resource-management mechanics.

My rules for cold and snow.

My rules for radiation, if needed.

Commentary.

Easy to see that B4 The Lost City is an important antecedent.

You won't go far wrong mining the Frostpunk wiki for useful supplemental material (I love mining wikis of games I've never/will never play).

Joseph D'Lacey's MEAT and Cormac McCarthy's The Road to think about the economics/ecology of cannibalism.

The Palace of the Fire Lords using a map of the spiral cities from X6 Quagmire!

The Caverns of Kalte (Lone Wolf gamebook - Joe Dever, Gary Chalk). Absolutely formative.

Planet of the Apes (1968) and the sequels, and the Fire Lords as rough analogues of the team based at U.S Outpost 31.

Dark Sun in Antarctica.

Santa's reindeer, if you hadn't noticed.

Confession that the prompt was the one that I least wanted at the time, but I've had a lot of fun with it.

Now: Observe Winterval for the allotted time.










Tuesday, December 3, 2024

d66 Monsters of the Necropolis River Delta

You cross over the Dry Red & Ochre Hills and descend to a country of lagoons and channels - feats of ancient engineering swallowed by luxuriant growth and centuries of silt. 

This was where the nameless Necropolis Culture flourished. Swallowed up by the very conditions that allowed it to rise and thrive. 

The seasons are Misty, Flood, Hot, and Rainy - in whatever sequence you like best.

The Tower of the Astromancers is the only remaining intact structure that can be identified at a distance and with any certainty. It's importance to the Necropolis Culture (and those trying to plunder it) may simply be survival bias. But it was definitely somehow significant.

The Grand Necropolis is speculative, but firmly fixed in minds and on maps (though not its specific location).

1. Roll d6:

  1. Killer Mud Pigs (1-3): Dire/Prehistoric Capybara, size of a Hippo and equally bad-tempered. Its mud-clogged fur foils infravision, just like in the documentary, Predator (1987).
  2. Sentinel Crabs: ubiquitous; about the size of a dog; shells make cheap, short-lived shields. Signal to each other with rhythmic claw clicking, gathering in greater, louder and more intimidating numbers around whatever their current interest. Normally non-aggressive, scavengers and opportunists.
  3. Skims: ray-like creatures look like floating mats of weed until they take to the air. Big ones can completely envelop you; small ones are like hairy leeches. Possibly intelligent.
  4. Grindylows: Velya to the Croglin Vampire; ghastly clutches of them trapped in shallow pools, whispering for blood and darkness. Coughing cries ring out and are answered during the misty season, as they reminisce and plan for swarming during flood season.
  5. Big Sleek Rats: predatory otters. May have ghoulish habits and taint from slithering through the tombs and scavenging the resting undead. 1 on d12 they’re Ghoulish Weres.
  6. Banshee Caterpillar (1): named for its distinctive whinnying scream; colonised by bioluminescent animalcules; entrapping web strands; adhesive spit. Eventually burrows into the earth to pupate. No one knows what the adult form is, how long the gestation, nor total numbers waiting to hatch.

2. Roll d6:

  1. Greasy Cormorants: nosy, noisy, gluttonous. Will flock your camp to snatch your dinner, and any loose shiny things into the bargain. Defensive and malicious projectile regurgitation and defecation.
  2. Giant Catfish (1): can haul/hurl its bulk out of water and over solid ground - survives several hours out of water. Possibly delicious, mostly harmless, can swallow you by accident. 1 on d6 it’s capable of speech and wisdom (or a reskinned Aboleth).
  3. Vicious Otters: aggressive and territorial, otherwise common otters. Local lore ascribes them human intelligence and powers of mimicry, if not of actually being shapeshifting witches.
  4. Psionic Squid: if you’re immune to their abilities, they are quite sad-looking grey squid. Otherwise appear to be arabesque fractal peacocks with an infinite array of Mandelbrot tentacles. They’re learning to communicate with other lifeforms, but hampered by short lifespan, demanding breeding cycle, lack of transmissible culture. They’re not sure whether to make friends or take over the world.
  5. Gross Bitterns: stout, dodo-like swamp birds. Communicate and defend themselves with infrasound. 
  6. Lord Verdigris (1): colossal golem, still running on an apparently eternal power source; programmed to ceaselessly patrol the region, but nothing seems to occur that provokes a response. Infrequently dashes off swathes of heliograph messages to the distant Tower of the Astromancers.

3. Roll d6:

  1. Terror Crane (1-3): Colossal nomadic wading birds. Incapable of flight. Criss-cross the delta, leaving a trail of incidental destruction and the empty shells of giant marsh clams.
  2. Amber Golems: undead-android dinosaur/lizard-folk; guardians and soldiers of the Necropolis Culture, they follow ancient orders but could be reprogrammed. No one living knows the secret of their construction.
  3. Thrif (Death Leeches): elemental anemone-urchins that spawn in places with heavy necromantic fetor. Animate alien-plant-animals absolutely loaded with dark mana. Respond instinctively to stimuli; casually lethal.
  4. Shellycoats (Troll Gnomes): remnants of the Necropolis Culture's summoned slaves. Articulated hides clatter and ring. Agonisingly fused into glassy stone by the sun’s rays. Most are small because they don’t get the nutrition or leisure to get big.
  5. Mist Drakes: chirruping vaporous things that coil out of the saturated air during the hottest, most humid days. Ephemeral and elemental, superstition holds them to be the ghosts of those who die in and near the Grand Necropolis.
  6. Dragon Turtle (1): often mistaken for an island or undiscovered ruins, the Dragon Turtle is one the ancient spirits of the land, and you can only interact with it when it inhales, turning time back to when this was nothing but shallow sea. You've got until it breathes back out to interrogate it and to survive the aquatic dinosaurs and Serpent People mariners.

4. Roll d6:

  1. Graveyard Crabs (1-3): tottering giant crabs rumoured to have grown huge on a diet of ancient corpses, but just the natural end of the Sentinel Crab lifecycle - they have grown too big, too fast and cannot sustain the necessary feeding and shedding. They go to ancestral grave sites, where - amidst great drifts of fragile, demineralised remains - they topple over and die. That’s where they’re heading when encountered.
  2. Scum Creepers: slimy animate tubers that prey on weak and/or sleeping animals. Actively inedible.
  3. Flame Dead: Necropolis Culture undead, wreathed in unearthly flames. Appear either as flickering perpetually offended versions of their living selves, or shrieking candle-wax skeletons. Distant processions of will-o-wisps are said to be Flame Dead pacing the walls of the Grand Necropolis.
  4. Grendels/Fomorians: monstrous remnant of the Necropolis Culture; Thouls led/championed by Troll-Ghasts and ruled by Sea Hags (all reskins). Mortality horribly stretched, they require life energy (levels, ability scores) to maintain mental stability.
  5. Punkies: halfling-like swamp folk; their lives do not look that attractive from the outside, and considered no better than Goblins by surrounding settled peoples. At least some of them take grim pleasure in decoying biggers into danger; at least some of them eat those they trick.
  6. Rusty Derelict (1): counterpoint to Lord Verdigris; decomposed, predatory golem; lubricated with fat, blood hydraulics, and motivated by captured brains. Necromantic engine the likes of which has not been seen before. Haunted.

5. Roll d6:

  1. Algal Mummies: weak to air and poison/pollution. Dreamy and meditative, they have become solipsistic druidic monks. Confined to algae-choked flooded tombs, they see through the web of life and animate water-plants to intervene in the breathing world. Think they are the undead remnant of a named individual but really the vehicle of a weird organism.
  2. Fungoid Mummies: ornate and bursting with cordyceps-antlers; style themselves as the ultimate form and true inheritors of the Necropolis Culture. Cordial relations with the Mi-Go. Think they are the undead remnant of a named individual but really the vehicle of a weird organism.
  3. Gunpowder Beetles heavy and slow; packed with tomb nitre and alchemical waste, warmed by necromantic radiation. Attacked or surprised, they produce a loud crack and a spark of utter darkness (blinding on the mortal sphere, visible on the Astral Plane) accompanied by the stench of brimstone and necrotic damage. Can be harvested and processed.
  4. Widow Elves: bereft across centuries, forever mourning long dead mortals. The Necropolis Culture apparently did a brisk marriage business with similarly lost and forgotten Elfish nations, and these grief-mad lamias (and quite probably thousands of fey-blooded ancestors) are all that remain. At least equivalent to your basic Drow in abilities and equipment.
  5. Giant Marsh Clams: can you justify a stat-block? Basically, bear traps you can eat and use the shell as a low-quality shield. 2 on 2d6, they’ve been feeding on Psionic Squid for generations and are capable of levitation and mind blast.
  6. Dinosaur Ghosts: elementals and thought-forms that pile up in the sky, or loom vast from the mists. Terrifying, spectacular, mostly harmless. Abruptly real when the Dragon Turtle inhales.
6. Roll d6:
  1. Lord of Fevers (1): gargantuan processional crustacean-centipede, supported by filmy wings grouped on nodes along its length. Emanations of blast-furnace gut cause radiation sickness. Probably a Larvae of the Outer Gods. Festooned with extra-dimensional parasites. Mostly out-of-phase with the material world; solidifies during Mist season.
  2. Pazuzus: wiry, rangy, black manes and feathered wings; refugee demons from the bottom of the pecking order; melancholic because escape has cut them off from the Great Murmuration, choleric because they prefer significantly less earth and water in their environment. 
  3. Hippogriffs: beaked and scaly croco-wolves; prefer lonelier hunting grounds as the mammalian predators soundly out-compete them in their niche. Their long-term survival as a species is in doubt, but prolonged by their feeding cycles being measured in months (even seasons) rather than days/hours.
  4. Necromancers: apart from the sartorial distinction, they might be any other adventuring party exploring the wilderness. Roll d6: 1 turning undead and not by choice; 2 frosty but non-aggressive; 3-4 untried entry-levels; 5 in possession of something worth taking, whether you know it or not; 6 much too powerful for you to go toe-to-toe.
  5. Mi-Go: maybe no more than a small away team across the whole region. Roll d8: 1 following the Lord of Fevers at a worshipful distance; 2 buzzing around the Tower of the Astromancers; 3 observing Lord Verdigris at a respectful distance; 4 taking samples and measurements from Rusty Derelict; 5 retrieving Shellycoat remains with extendable pincers; 6 vacuuming Mist Drakes into compression tanks; 7 containing Thrif in energy bubbles; 8 attempting to communicate with you.
  6. Sabre-tooth Woolly Mosquitoes: immortal relicts of what came before the Necropolis Culture. Torpid for millenia, cocooned in something resembling fossilised tree resin; bumbling and mindless through lack of proper regular nutrition, still digesting prehistoric meals from animals long extinct. 3 on 3d6 there's a single Brood Queen waking from torpor, monstrously gravid with parasitic larvae, and capable of reviving the species. For stats, start with a Stirge.