Sunday, April 14, 2019

More University Cults

I've updated the last University Cults post in order to retroactively format in the RUMORS section, which I've found more useful for describing cults and maximizing their potential.

It Is Called: The Custodians
Type: Staff Cult
Threat Priority: Medium

The Janitors. Nobody dares question how they work, not even the university administrators, but the halls remain clean and the trash empties, regardless of the lack of oversight. Do not look into their closets, for within are shrines to the Clean God, and it does not abide those who do not serve.

Those who gaze into the maintenance closets or accost and belittle the Custodians invariably first go mad, then go insane, then go missing. Where do they go? None would dare investigate, lest they too gain the dire attention of the Clean God.

Don't go in the maintenance closet.
By cinemamind
Only protocol will save you during interactions. If they ask you to do something, do it. Do not question the Custodians.  Do not impede their work. Do not follow them into dark hallways. Do not follow them in general. Do not make eye contact or converse with them, unless they made eye contact or converse first, in which case you ABSOLUTELY MUST CONVERSE! Just don't ask or question what they're doing.

And above all, do not go in a Maintenance Closet. Don't even look in it. Just get out of their way and let them do their work, and the halls and rooms shall be clean of filth. Rumors of the shrines within the closets are abound. Students claim to have snatched glimpses of the sculptures within.

An effigy: a blood-dripping ram's skull mounted upon a rib cage of brooms, intestines of mop heads falling out, eviscerated.
A shrine: knickknacks and discarded food, forming a collage of a smiling, cruel face. Black candles.
An abomination: an amalgamation of lint, fused to the far wall. It's maw opens wide. It beckons in with dust-choked gasps.
A body: squirming and suffocating within a trash bag, like a caterpillar in cocoon. Depressions where the mouth draws in breath. It tries to scream.
A pool: acidic rank, smells of lemon a thousand fold. Gloved, coiled hands reach from below the surface.
A vacuum: dark nothing. A horrible void. It draws you in, slow first then impossible to escape. The door slams shut. The cacophony is unbearable.
An abyss: a vertical portal, swirling ever deeper, stretching you out like a black hole.

1. The Custodians murder and dismantle the mad in the dead of night, cleaning up the mess perfectly and with total coordination long before the morning dawn.
2. They throw dis-satisfactory faculty, staff, and students alike into the maintenance closets when nobody else is looking, for the Clean God to consume as sacrifice.
3. They drown accosters in cleaning acid, simultaneously killing and dissolving the body, before pouring the remains down drains that none but they know lead where.
4. The Clean God is a misnomer. In reality, it is the God of Filth, for nothing can be cleaned without something else getting more dirty. The Custodians are agents of entropy - inescapable, the entire universe funneling towards its own dirty-heat-death. They are here to help it along.

It Is Called: The Committee
Type: Faculty Cult
Threat Priority: Low

My palms were sweaty. I'd been standing here, blinded by the auditorium lights for three hours. 'Better absurdly early than late', I'd thought. I didn't think how the idleness would affect my hands. Surely they'd notice. Surely they'd take note. I was a walking dead man, and all because I insisted on being early! Dead man. Dead man. Dead man!

I heard a click at the door. It caused me to jump, then fumble frantically with my papers as I nervously tried to avoid eye contact with the five hooded figures ritualistically seating themselves across an elevated bench. Where they sat it was dark. I couldn't even be sure they were there, 'til I saw a glimmer of brass emerge from the darkness. A womanly hand reached out of the dark.

She pushed forward a cup from her hand. It smelled noxious, of acute notes of mustard. My stomach wretched at the scent and sight.

"Drink from the cup." Said the woman.
"What? I-"
"Drink. And we will deliberate."

My heart dropped into my gut. Was this what the other students meant? Nobody had ever described a goblet before. Was this a test? Was this the test? Was all my hard work in preliminaries for nothing? Were they trying to sense my hesitation? Was I-


Without second thought, I lunged for the cup, and drank. It tasted smooth, like lavender. I remember being pleasantly surprised, and the horrified. There came a noxious aftertaste - a burning gas that fumed from my nose and mouth, like my head was a smoke grenade or a chemical show. I coughed and sputtered, before downing the rest of the horrid draught.

There was a moment of silence. A moment before I wretched. I could feel something caught in the back of my throat - a slimy certain something. It clung to my esophagus like a wretched baby; then, loosed by the spasm of my lungs and onto the floor. My eyes watering, I barely made out its green and black-spotted form. I blinked, and it became clear: a slug, or so I thought, colored of phlegm with eyes an iridescent black. A globule of spit dripped from my mouth to the floor, right in front of my superiors. What did it mean?

"You have passed your Preliminaries. We look forward to your research proposal in two months."

The Committee stood up, exiting the room one by one, leaving me alone on the floor, with a slug born from my lungs. It looked at me as if I had betrayed it. Had I? I don't know.


The fear and bane of all graduate students. The Committee is an cult of anonymous mask-wearing faculty that oversee and approve of graduate students' projects and dissertations, thereby welcoming them into the university as faculty. They should never be taken lightly.

A legit method at Committee gatherings.
1. If you kill a member of a Committee, at The Committee, you then take their place.
2. The secret methods employed by a Committee are unique and tailored to meet the weaknesses of each particular student. The odds are stacked against you. To overcome is the test.
3. The Committee picks projects not based on merit, but by those who would make the greatest human sacrifice upon reaching faculty level. What Dark Power wants professor's souls?
4. There are, in fact, no faculty behind the masks. There is nobody behind the masks. They are not people, and neither are you, if you succeed.

It Is Called: The Waking Eye
Type: Student Group
Threat Priority: Medium

It takes a cult to expose a cult. To that end was made The Waking Eye, the one and only truly legitimate student newspaper. All others are puppets, so sayeth The Eye. It reports on other cults.

There is ritual in the process of the free press. Many powerful forces constantly seek to intervene with the powers of journalism, that they may sway true word and proper discourse to their own selfish esoteric ends. The only defense against such occult forces is a cult devoted to combat them.

Identities are anonymous and ring-based, one member knowing no more than one other member. Intent must be proven by conditional-suicide blood pact. Any published word must pass the Waking Eye, lest lies propagate through the paper. The Eye knows the truth. The Eye knows lies.

Issues of the Waking Eye are never printed on the same medium twice. They remain hidden as illusory script, visible only to those who know the secret ritual to bring the words forth. Issues have been printed in library books, on homework assignments, scrawled on students' backs, or graffiti'd on walls. There are many old issues lying around, as yet to be discovered, hiding and detailing particular cult activity. Once read they disappear forever, to shield its words from authorities.

This has led to a phenomenon known as The Hunt for the Waking Word, which comprises several distinct phases:

1. A rumor begins that a new issue of The Waking Eye has been released.
2. Speculation goes 'round about the medium.
3. Students begin inevitably experimenting on different things to find the new issues.
4. Soon after, cultists from the university begin their search.
5. The medium is discovered, and issues of The Waking Eye begin to quickly disappear.
6. Those students caught viewing The Waking Eye are severely punished by the university. "Academic Probation"

There is an active bounty on all members of The Waking Eye. 100 spellgold a piece - not a light sum.

1. Every printed paper bears the Seal of The Waking Eye upon its surface, and so serves as a vessel for The Eye to see into our world.
2.  Falsehoods may not be printed upon a surface bearing the Seal, or so it is said. There are reasons to doubt, but then again, there are reasons to doubt anything in Wizard City.
3. Every member of The Waking Eye is actually dead, and has been for decades. What actually remains is merely a kind of Stand Alone Complex perpetuated by the student body.
4. There are many old issues of The Waking Eye hidden around campus, waiting to be stumbled upon by particularly investigative students. The older and better hidden the issue, the more revelatory its information. If you find one, Campus Security will come looking for you.

It Is Called: Keepers of the True Time
Type: Faculty Group
Threat Priority: Medium

They have kept the true time of the universe for a thousand years, and they intend to keep it until the end. A cooperation between the Bureau of Spatial and Temporal Matters and the University, devoted entirely to accurate and esoteric timekeeping.

Their timekeeping is accurate for the age of the universe plus-or-minus 3 seconds. This inaccuracy is blamed on the one they call Dave - he who screwed up the clocks and either gained or lost up to 3 seconds about seven hundred years ago. All attempts to go back in time and fix this have all been for naught, so fucked up was Dave's fucking up. As such, Dave's name is to be used in all curses. Ex: "Oh, look, Steward Dave-d up again, surprise surprise!", "You've really Dave-d it this time.", "You're such a Dave..."

The Keepers wear robes covered in little metal plates, and many many methods of timekeeping: watches, entire grandfather clocks, water clocks carried by four, trains of pregnant women.

1. The Keepers have a clock which is counting down by the second to the next Apocalypse. They refuse to show it to any but the highest of authorities.
2. The Keepers have a clock showing the lifespan of the Universe, divided into 7 hours. We are almost at hour 3.
3. Someone or something from the future keeps sending people back into the present to set back the Keepers' clocks. For some reason, this amount of time is always exactly 4.13 minutes.
4. The Keepers employ owls. Why do they employ owls? What do the owls do?

Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Harry Clarke Project - The Cuckquean Fence

The Cuckquean Fence

A most terrible curse wrought by woman scorned - a court sword which murders the objects of adultery. With every victim it grows, to match in size the magnitude of its malice. It will bring no harm to the husband-lover, but it will skewer and impale those he desires, through that which he touched in lust.

It's victims remain, skewered on the blade, neither alive nor dead. They cannot perish or rest so long as they remain. As the blade moves quicker their screams of pain reach fever pitch.

It rests quietly during the day, wrapped in bed sheets from the wedding night. It will come out at night when called, if the husband has recently had an affair. It moves silently, floating acutely to the ground, lest it has victims who moan in low pained tenor. It comes in the night, harpooning through open windows or cracked-open doors, to skewer drowsy or sleeping maids.

To Summon It, One Requires:
- A Court Sword, pricked with ones own blood
- A Wedding Ring, to be slid from the tip to the hilt.
- A Personal Gift, given from the husband, tied just above the pommel.
- The Bed Sheets from the night of their wedding.
- A Hateful Incantation

Armor Class: As Plate
Hit Dice: 1 per Victim
Move: As Human
Attacks: Pierce
Damage: 1d8
Morale: 12
Treasure: 1d6gp (exploding) per # of Victims, in jewelry and personal belongings.
Alignment: Neutral

- Immune to all damage from piercing weapons.
- Advantage when attacking intended targets.
- Construct Immunities.
- Only women may harm it. With exception to brothers of the wife, who deal half damage to it. Bridesmaids from the wedding deal double damage.
- An invisible spirit guides the blade. It cannot be harmed by normal weapons. It has the same stats as the blade itself, with AC as unarmored, no damage, and no treasure. If it is killed, then the women who summoned it can never do so again. If the blade is destroyed, it will disappear, but can be brought back once more if the ritual is repeated.


This submission is kept in
You may find the details of the community project over at Cavegirl's place.

Monday, April 8, 2019

University Cults

((I've updated this post to reflect the new rumor format I'm using in the following post.))

I'm using these for any Wizard City shenanigans, but I'm sure y'all can find a use for 'em elsewhere! I'm lookin' at you, Esoteric Enterprises.

It Is Called: The Generous Hand
Type: Charitable Organization
Threat Priority: Low

A "cult", so sayeth the city leadership, with the apparently radical idea that we shouldn't be total and absolute jerks to each other. They do know what city they're in, don't they? This is WIZARD City, not DECENT PERSON City! Geeze.

Anyways, it's a futile effort, but they're gaining the slightest amounts of traction, undertaking such programs such as distributing non-experimental food, providing non-haunted shelter to the homeless, offering non-organ-harvesting medical service, even for brains in jars, THE NERVE!

1. Why do they provide these services for free? Well, obviously, it must be because they're hiding something. It can't possibly be some commitment for the greater good.
2. Its leaders are firmly under the thumb of oligarchs. They use the organization to politically manipulate the vulnerable.
3. It's all one little piece of the inevitable brain-in-jar uprising. How? Not sure yet.

It Is Called: Church of the Spoon
Type: Religious Group
Threat Priority: Low

"All Hail The Spoon!"
Thus sayest the Spoon Pope.
They hand out fliers in the city squares. They make monuments to the Spoon. They say that "everything is spoon" given the right spoon-lense. They say that the universe is shaped like a spoon, and that everything, down to the last atom, is constituted of spoons. They worship the spoon. They wear spoons from their ears, and eat nothing but spoon-shaped things with spoons. They spoon when they sleep. They make spoons obsessively, and spread their wonder wherever they go. They have single-handed collapsed the spoon market, making them cheaper than dirt, literally.

1. They regard The Gigamancer, capable of summoning one billion spoons (among other things) in a single instant, as some sort of demiurge or avatar of the All-Spoon - their proverbial god, which is more or less The Universe in entirety.
2. The entire endeavor was actually a student prank that got way out of hand. It's original founders, long since excommunicated, have gone on record saying that the whole thing was 'a joke', but nobody cares.
3. There is a hidden hierarchy to the church, with Spoon Priests and Spoon Bishops, going all the way up to the Spoon Pope, who sits upon a throne of spoons.

It Is Called: The High Modernist Society
Type: Professional Order
Threat Priority: "None"

A secret cabal of architects, politicians, and city planners devoted to the formation of the 'perfect' city. It is both the least threatening-seeming of the cults, and the most dangerous. Its founders and members have massive influence in city planning: everything from spontaneous evictions to rent control to zoning laws to eminent domain.

They want to create the 'perfect' city, but what exactly that entails is kept totally secret to all but its highest members. The following conspiracy theories have been developed about their goals. If even one of them are true then The High Modernist Society deserves at least a High threat rating.

1. They have ties to the Providence Men. They even say that the Pyramid Heads pull the strings on their organization from the future, and that every project they influence is tilted towards constructing the monument of their power.
2. Their city planning is all in service of creating a massive magic circle. Everything from zoning to street layouts to ghetto formation to population control is all a part of an elaborate ritual - but what the end goal is nobody is sure.
3. They spur on riots to justify police force so that in the resulting crackdowns they can drive a profit through demolition and real estate development.
I read this recently, can't you tell

4. The slums and ghettos were created and planned by the High Modernist Society for the purpose of harvesting bodies for necromantic experiments. Nobody cares if someone goes missing in the slums, so it's the ideal harvesting grounds
5. It's highest members are actually magitech Artificial Intelligences, manipulating the city's people as pawns towards their goals of technological-magical Singularity. The tendrils of AI power seep throughout the bones of the city, and the zoning laws create a function of specialization to constitute citywide magitech computer parts.
6. The entire society is actually a plot of the Unter-Ooze to completely and universally take over the city via simultaneous plumbing infiltration (sewage, fresh water, bathing). High ranking members are just puppets of the Ooze, and will structurally fall apart under scrutiny. Hence the emphasis of sewer development from the Society.

It Is Called: Omicron Delta Theta (Sorority of the Cell)
Type: Student Group
Threat Priority: Medium

The notorious Biomancer sisterhood, whose name Omicron Delta Theta (ΟΔΘ) pictographically represents the splitting of the cell. Or maybe it's an owl. They like owls. This sorority has often been salaciously accused of incubating and birthing their own mad experiments. This is False (95% of the time). And those who slander the sorority often find themselves spontaneously developing simultaneous throat, eye, and brain cancer. Try being a wizard without those, scum!

The sorority house is located deep within the student ghetto, which gives them plenty of cover to hide their various illegal biomancy activities. The projects of the sisters range from:
"I've crossed a chinchilla and a puppy! LOOK HOW CUTE IT IS!",
to "I've developed a plague that causes people who ask too many questions at seminar to rapidly grow their bottom teeth up through their brain",
to "What if Cronenburg... But MORE?".

At first glance, you think the man on the platform is in control. He is not. Oh, he is not.

Like all rowdy fraternities and sororities, their parties are great. Just watch your drinks, lest you wake up with no teeth, an extra butt, and a unicorn head. If ever they are to team up with the Black Magic Fraternity, both of their respective Threat Priorities will automatically jump to High.

1. The Sorority has developed a highly contagious plague that will kill off anybody over the age of 30 with 99.99% lethality. The reason they're still around is because they're holding the entire city hostage.
2. Nobody becomes a doctor or a nurse in the city without some amiable connection to the Sorority. Those who cross the sisterhood often reach 'unfortunate ends'.
3. Those who survive the hazing rituals of the Sorority become immortal, it's just that the nature of the work they end up doing long after has a high mortality rate.
4. There is a beast that uses the sewers as its hunting ground. It is said to be half-man, half-crocodile, and that is was an aborted 'project' from the Sorority.
5. The Snakemen are actually a product of the Sorority's experimentation. It certainly fits their profile.

It Is Called: The Hypermath Cult
Type: Faculty Society
Threat Priority: Low

The Cult, whose upper echelons are based out of the Infinity Hotel, is nearly entirely devoted to the discovery of new means of math. They have a pseudo-public hierarchical structure, encompassing several semi-public levels of participation, and several more secret ones. The Cult itself is divided into several independent subsections, each devoted to some form of mathematics. These can be recognized by special secret gestures and acknowledgements, most of them completely harmless. Cult membership is denoted by Level, levels 1-5 being public, and levels 6-10 being secret.


The Logarithmancers are devoted to the study of logarithms, and how they might be used to access greater numbers. This sect, above the others, coalesces more power and practicality in its ranking members. Logarithmancers are known to have developed special LOG magic, allowing select members to blunt un-survivable attacks and conditions, such as falling from 100,000ft or withstanding a direct nuclear blast.

The Numerologismists [sic] are devoted to the study of the study of numerology. So, they don't study numerology per se, but rather study the creatures that study numerology - principally goblins, hobgoblins, and trolls - and mathematics systems derived therein. Being that they are often confused (and intentionally mislabeled) as numerologists, they've developed an acute sense of defensiveness surrounding their studies. Numerology is the lowest of sciences, after all, but studying those who study it is anthropology!

The Irrationalists are devoted to the study of irrational numbers. Being there an infinite number of irrational numbers, their work is cut out for them. They are an obsessive and devoted lot, composing a litany of human calculators, mad mathematicians, and artists. Their pursuit of irrationality often leads them down erratic and compulsive paths such as the development of misanthropic supersets, new math systems, and feats of eternal cruelty.

The Imaginarians are devoted to the study of imaginary numbers, complex numbers, and their various applications. There is a lot of drug use in this sect. Without the special drugs, they claim, one's brain cannot access the true Imaginary realm. As such, they tend to be a strange and ethereal group of scholars, far less obsessed with diligence and protocol as the other groups.

1. The Level 10 Logarithmancer, and a few of his Level 9 disciples, can survive a nuclear blast point-blank, such are the powers of his logarithmic magic.
2. The Numerologismists have secretly claimed they've discovered the Number Which Controls the Universe, but they're unwilling to share it, the pigs.
3. The Irrationalists have a secret bunker containing a legion of mad savants, furiously working night and day to produce the highest number capable of being expressed by humanity.
4. The Imaginarians are said to have a drug which shows you the True World. That would mean, of course, that this world is False.

It Is Called: Order of the Nine Eyes (The Black Magic Fraternity)
Type: Student Group
Threat Priority: Medium

The most notorious and infamous student group on campus. Nobody with good sense even walks down the same street as their frat house, even the poor mailman. The house itself - a monument and zoo to every dark magic that ever existed - is a cesspit of debauched insanity. At any given time, it is haunted by no less than three demons/ghosts/monstrosities/aberrations. It is filthy and trapped with all manner of cursed objects with apocalyptic implements on hair triggers - think the basement scene in Cabin in the Woods.

Like this, but a whole three-story house.

Like: Oh, you want to look in the bathroom mirror? Well, you just summoned an ultra-evil doppelganger of yourself that's going to kill everyone you know and love before gouging out its throat in front of your dissertation committee.

1. Despite the perpetual existential dread, the fraternity is surprisingly supportive to its members. Brothers frequently share resources and advice for summoning spirits and demons, rationalizing that the better they are at helping each other, the more horrible-ness they can bring into the world.
2. Their parties are bitchin', too, if you're okay with a moderate-to-severe amount of misanthropy and human sacrifice.
3.  If they ever team up with Omicron Delta Theta, then there will be absolutely no hope for the city to avoid an existential catastrophe.

It Is Called: Eat The Rich
Type: Memetic
Threat Priority: "High"

Source, also more good examples.
Eat The Rich is a memetic cult devoted to its namesake - cannibalizing rich people. It's followers include a litany of shadowy graffiti artist-magicians who decisively plant psycho-somatic-memetic text so that those reading it will immediately attempt to eat the next wealthy person they come into contact with. Servant class folk are frequently targeted for this text, along with close family members of intended targets.

In disproportionate response, several secret and non-secret police units have been devoted to its eradication.

1. Because this cult primarily targets affluent communities, it has been labelled the number one threat in Wizard City, despite only a few occurrences of wealthy-person cannibalism each year (several of which this cult's influence was highly debatable).
2. Some people have theorized that Eat The Rich is actually a puppet by the High Modernist Society to scapegoat any of their misdealings, but those people are dead.
3. Eat The Rich is, in fact, an organism which cares neither about eating nor the rich. The psycho-somatic components of its 'plague' are merely byproducts of its naturally-selected reproductive cycle.

It Is Called: "That One Thing We Can't Talk About"
Type: Mimetic
Threat Priority: Low

Several decades ago a plague swept through the city. At first, people reported seeing strange shadows dancing in the distance down long streets, recalling the appearance of a black cloth caught in a hot air updraft. Then, people reported seeing a black-robed man standing in the distance, staring at them. After that the reports stopped, and the migrations started.

"That One Thing We Can't Talk About" is a mimetic virus of an increasingly closer-standing black-robed man. Early stages of the disease include extreme paranoia and the compulsive desire to talk about the black-robed man, thereby spreading the disease. Late stages include suggestion and brainwashing, culminating in complete loss of free will as the victim begins to mindlessly march due east directly into the desert - to what destination nobody has found out, for subjects die of dehydration long before stopping.

The only way to cure the disease and to halt its spread is to never talk about it, hence all government denial that such hypothetical diseases exist. Despite this, there is a small segment of the population encompassing various amnesiac conspiracy theorists that keep the disease alive, even worshiping the black-robed man as some sort of messiah.

From Lawrence of Arabia
1. The Black-robed man is trying to tell us something. Hosts have sometimes declared they saw the man trying to speak, but producing no words.
2. The State actually perpetuates the plague as a means of eugenics and population control. After all, the lower classes are disproportionally affected by it.
3. Only those who have unjustly escaped prosecution from the law ever see the Black-Robed man, hence why it never affects the righteous wealthy.

It Is Called: "The Other Thing We Can't Talk About"
Type: ???
Threat Priority: ???

The Providence Men. Talking about them has a tendency of getting one mysteriously disintegrated. The Men come from the future where their rule in absolute, and they return to the past to ensure their future. Nobody has any idea what the rationale for the assassinations is, and the Men of Pyramid Heads aren't keen to divulge.

Despite this, there is a small cult devoted to their future rule. They are the only people who seem able to discuss the Pyramid Head Men without getting disintegrated, but only so long as their revelations aren't brought into the proper light. They can be identified by their special signet rings depicting the Providence Eye.

1. ???
2. ???
3. ???

Friday, April 5, 2019

Wizard City GLOG Classes

At last, it has all come to this. I feel like I can now adapt the class and spellcasting system in the GLOG to Wizard City.

There are really only two templates you need to superimpose on whatever system you desire to make it work for Wizard City:

1) Gold = Spell Scrolls
2) Critical Save or Fumble Hit on Spell = Counterspell

That's it. That's all you need. Everything else is superficial. If you want to keep things simple, then you can substitute any Fighter class for Police, any Golem class for Mo-RONs, any Assassin class for Spellsharks, et cetera.

BUT! Doing so may lose some things in translation, hence I'm gonna make some GLOG classes for the Wizard City, since they're super-duper easy to make anyways.

Everything, that is, except the Wizard class. That's already covered by the GLOG itself and half a billion other fun blog posts. You wanna be a Chin Wizard? You go and be the best damn Chin Wizard you can be!

Anti-Magic Weapons and Tactics Officer 

You are a corrupt officer of the law, specializing in taking down wizards. While you have very little magical abilities of your own, your counterspell potential is very high, and police batons are kind of "magic" in their own special way, aren't they?

Every Template: Increase your Counterspell range by 1 (ex: with 3 templates, you'll Counterspell on a Save of 17-20, or an enemy attack of 1-4.)

Starting Equipment: Cudgel, Lighter, Chainmail
Random Starting Skill [d3]: 1 = Lawyer, 2 = Jailor,  3 = Strikebreaker

"Boo hoo hoo, what happened to your pew pew pew?"
A Brute Force, +1 Attack Stat
B +1 Attack/Round, More Brute Force
C Nerd Punch, Team Tracking
D Area Denial

Brute Force
You get +2 to Combat Maneuver Rolls.

More Brute Force
You get an additional +2 to Combat Maneuver Rolls.

Nerd Punch
Hitting a spellcaster causes 1d4 INT damage per hit, cumulatively. This damage goes away after 1 hour or Having Lunch.

Team Tracking
You may designate one person by touch for 1 minute. You know exactly where this person is for the duration, no matter the distance and whether you can see or hear them.

Area Denial
When you Counterspell an area-of-effect spell, the area changes to be centered on the caster.

Mobility Reconnaissance Operating Nerve 

You are a brain in a jar. It sucks. Everyone in Wizard City treats Mo-RONs with contempt (and nobody bothers with the correct pronunciation; "moron" is the colloquial term). Living is expensive, and you have virtually no opportunities for career advancement.

Once you get a Level in this class, there's no going back. You're stuck as a Brain in a Jar. But, at the very least you can now be a Brain in a Jar in a FREAKIN' ROBOT SQUID, YEAH!

Every Template: Gain an additional Chassis. Buy it, find it, design it, your/DM's choice. Every Chassis is basically a different GLOG animal/monster class without any 'Every Template' bonuses. It takes 8 hours to switch and integrate into a new Chassis. You store them in a safe place when you're not using them.

Chassis Examples:

Really Good Dog - Canine Chassis v1.1
Many Goblins - Remote Kindersuit Supreme
Butcher - KnifeX4 v0.67
Fungal Hive Colony - Unregistered Exosuit
Really Angry Goose - H.O.N.K.
Very Smug Cat - Jerkface Model 1.11857
Secret Unicorn - The Sissysuit
Really Big Spider - Mobile Reconnaissance Unit 2 (MRU2)
Robot Squid - Mobile Nerve Exosuit, Class: Kraken (MNEK)

Starting Equipment: 16oz Nerve Fluid*, 4oz Oil Can, Spider Chassis
Random Starting Skill [d3]: 1 = Janitor, 2 = Intern, 3 = Sage

By David Jernigan
A Brain In A Jar, Chassis 1
B Chassis 2
C Chassis 3
D Chassis 4, Magical Chassis

Brain In A Jar
You are a Brain In A Jar. You cannot take templates in other classes. You also can't heal normally, through rest and lunches. The only way you can heal is through repairing your chassis. Doing so will cost 5HP = 1sg. It also costs 5sg per month for maintenance to merely exist. Failure to get maintenance done will result in -1 maximum HP per week without maintenance. If you drop to 0 HP from this, your jar will break and cease to function, resulting in death.

Additionally, you take double damage from any Lightning or Electrical effects, and any Limbs you lose may be replaced at a cost of 10sg per limb.

Chassis 1
Your abilities depend on what kind of Chassis your brain is currently occupying. It is, in effect, 'your jar'. When you select your Chassis, pick another non-magic GLOG class, and gain the first Template abilities in that class, without the initial per-Template bonus.

Chassis 2
You gain the second Template abilities in your Chassis classes.

Chassis 3
You gain the third Template abilities in your Chassis classes.

Chassis 4
You gain the fourth and final Template ability in your Chassis classes.

Magical Chassis
As your fourth chassis, you may pick a wizard class. If you've chosen a wizard, you do not benefit from any boons or cantrips, but nor do you have any restrictions. You are, in effect, piloting a magical battery.

*Nerve Fluid is what your brain floats in, and serves as a minor healing potion for Mo-RONs but has three times the cost.


You are a loan shark for spells. And since spells are money anyway, I guess that just makes you a normal loan shark.

Every Template: Gain Level x 10 spellgold, from collecting debts. You also get +1 to Stealthy Business.

Starting Equipment: Switchblade, Leather Armor, Secret Coin Pouch
Random Starting Skill [d3]: 1 = Money Launderer, 2 = Forger, 3 = Accountant
You don't need to be an actual shark,
but who am I to tell you what to do?

A Spell Lending, Deep Pockets
B With Interest, +1 Magic Dice
C Spell Steal, Deeper Pockets, +1 Magic Dice
D Assimilate Cantrip,+1 Magic Dice

Spell Lending
You get 1 Magic Die; however, you can't use this on any spells. Instead, you may "loan" it out to another Wizard. They inherit the spell die, and may store and use it as normal. This spell die goes away from the wizard if the wizard uses it to cast a spell or if they normally regenerate their spell dice. This Magic Die regenerates as normal for the Spellshark, even if they've lent it out.

At any time after lending, you may recall this Magic Die, even if it's gone away or been used. You siphon off a Magic Die from the wizard, if they have any left. There is no limit to how many Wizards you can effect in this way. If you gain templates in another wizard class, Spell Lending dies may still not be used for spells.

There is no save for gifting this Magic Die to the wizard, but it does take an action and requires touch.

Deep Pockets
Gain 1 additional inventory slot and 1 additional quick inventory slot.

+1 Magic Dice
You obtain another Spell Die which can be used for Spell Lending.

With Interest
When you get your Magic Die back, you may automatically Counterspell the next spell that this Wizard casts, no matter how far in the future this may be.

Spell Steal
When you recall your Magic Die with Spell Lending, you also temporarily copy a Spell Slot that that Wizard had prepared, allowing you to cast a spell with your Magic Die.

Deeper Pockets
Any clothes that you are currently wearing, provided they have pockets, function as a Bag of Holding, providing an additional 4 inventory slots.

Assimilate Cantrip
When you recall any Magic Die given from Spell Lending, you may also now perform any Cantrips that this Wizard knows for 24 hours. This potentially gives you access to multiple Wizards' Cantrips.

Special Agent of the Bureau of Spatial and Temporal Matters

Every T-Man comes from the future. If you have templates in another class, your future self arrives to take over, telling you to go study with the Bureau for a couple of years, which you then proceed to do. T-Men work for the very confusing Bureau of Spatial and Temporal Matters, and since nobody really has any idea about what happens at the Bureau, there is in fact very little oversight. T-Men can more or less do whatever they want on the Bureau's time.

Every Template: +2 to Initiative

Starting Equipment: Tailored Suit, Sunglasses, Concealable Dart Gun
Random Starting Skill [d3]: 1 = Mathematician, 2 = Watchmaker, 3 = Future Job

Those with eyebrows need not apply.

A Gadget, Looming Paradox
B Gadget
C Gadget, Close the Loop
D Gadget

Looming Paradox
Becoming a T-Man is a risky business. You always have the possibility of a Paradox Archangle [sic] getting up in your face. If you die, you cause a Paradox, and an Archangle will show up and attempt to clean up the mess you've made by completely scrubbing your entire existence out of reality. You will have never existed, and reality will attempt to conform to your absence, retroactively justifying every event pertaining to your person without you.

You gain access to some of the Bureau's special-restricted tech. Choose from one of the options below each time you get this template. All X/Day functions reset at midnight exactly (and yes, this can be exploited.)

Bean Counter Box
Ask the Box a question about how many of a particular thing are located within a designated space that the box is touched against. The Box will answer correctly and literally. (e.g. "How many assholes are located in this abandoned apartment building?" "16!") Usable 2/Day.

Commute Cube
You designate a location by touching the box to it. This location must have either a: desk, hearth, or bar. You then use the box to teleport back to that location instantaneously. Usable once every hour.

((So, I can see already that you'd love to haul a portable office desk around with you everywhere so you can use this on a dime. I approve of this tactic. Better yet, make it a work desk palanquin.))

Rewind Watch
You can rewind yourself one round into the past. Usable 1/Day.

Hyperspace Adjacency Glove
Snapping your fingers allows you to be considered adjacent to the target pointed at for 2 rounds. This allows you to perform such tasks as talking, pickpocketing, or kung-fu kicking from great distances. Usable 2/Day. (WARNING: DO NOT POINT AT SUN OR ANY CELESTIAL BODY)

Pocket Book of Appointments
This special pocket book version of the Book of Appointments located in the Bureau lobby contains the names, dates, and times of all people you have met and will ever meet. It is very long and convoluted, and also difficult to reference (it is not organized linearly). There are three functions:
1) A perfect record of everyone you have ever met and where you met them.
2) The real names, place, and present time of anyone you're meeting right now.
3) The names, times, dates, and places of people you will meet in the future. In order for this to work, you must be actively seeking a meeting with such a person (note: not necessarily a specific person). Finding this out requires passing an INT check. Failure causes 1d4 Wisdom damage. If successful, you will know exactly where to go to find your next appointment, and failure to undertake the meeting results in Paradox.

It's more or less a tazer that makes people repeat actions. Always considered within the Quick-Draw inventory no matter where it's stored. Range of 30ft. Successful hit results in the target repeating the same action as last round. Usable 5/Day.

A small strange warping box which can temporarily kick you into the 4th dimension. When using, make an INT check. If successful, you get to choose what effect you have. On failure, you get a random one. Effects lasts for 3 Rounds unless instantaneous (such as teleporting).

1-5. Able to see and phase through all solid materials.
6-10. Gain an intimate knowledge of your immediate surroundings (revealing all secret doors, adjacent rooms, seeing through darkness).
11-15. Teleport up to 200ft, any direction, you can choose and see where you're going.
16-17. Feel sick to stomach.
18. Random safe teleport up to 1000ft.
19. Get stuck in a wall/floor. 25% chance of outright death. 50% chance of losing a limb (roll randomly). 25% chance of being lucky with no structural damage.
20. Teleport randomly to somewhere in the universe. 99% of outright death in space.

Close the Loop
When you die, your Time Loop becomes closed. When this happens your present self arrives back on the scene, free of any ailments you currently have, returned to whatever level and bodily state you were when you first took a template of T-Man.

Your future self, of course, will die having gone to the past to cause this mess here. Dying again as your present self will trigger another Paradox.

Tuesday, April 2, 2019

GLOG - Really Big Spider and Robot Squid

I needed to make these for the Mo-RON GLOG class. I'm shocked, SHOCKED! Nobody's made Really Big Spider or Robot Squid GLOG classes? What?!

Really Big Spider
Starting Equipment: Desiccated Body, A Few Pounds of Currently Digesting Innards.
Starting Skill [1d3]: 1 = Trap Spider, 2 = Web Spider, 3 = Jumping Spider

For Every Template: +1 HP, +1 to Stealthy Business

Not quite this big, but you get the idea.
(From Futurama)
A Spider, Wall Climbing
B Web Weaving, Web Attack
C Trap Making, Sensitive Hairs
D Venom

You're a really big spider. You don't have hands. Well... You almost do. You have eight claws. The only math you are familiar with is geometry. You can "talk" to other PCs based on familiarity. You can talk to other spiders. You have a bite that deals 1d6+STR damage.

Wall Climbing
You can climb up walls at will without a check (unless it's super difficult like greased walls), as constantly being under the Spider Climb spell.

Web Weaving
You may take 10 minutes to construct a sticky, near-invisible web, taking up a 10x10ft frame. You can produce this quantity no more than twice times per day.

Web Attack
When you hit an opponent in melee, you gunk up their business, causing a cumulative -1 to all their rolls.

Trap Making
You excel at digging and making camouflaged traps. You may take 20 minutes to construct concealment in a given soft-grounded area. This is functionally a covered 10ft pit trap.

Sensitive Hairs
Your sense of touch is finely acute. +2 on all checks regarding touch and investigating objects (even magic ones). Additionally, if you're within 50ft of all of your webs or traps, and it's conceivable that a line of web could run between you and said webs or traps, you can tell if anything is touching your webs or traps.

Finally, your venom has developed. You may choose to employ venom after a successful attack. Pick one of the following options:
A) Paralytic Venom - 1/Day a successful bite attack prompts a Save. On failure, the target is paralyzed for 1 Hour, and loses 2d4 Strength and Agility for 24 Hours.
B) Cytotoxic Venom - 3/Day your bite attacks deal an additional 1d6 poison damage.
C) Forgetfulness Venom - 2/Day your bite attacks cause Forgetfulness, causing the target to be incapable of repeating the same action two rounds in a row. Lasts 1 Hour.

Robot Squid
Starting Equipment: Oil Can, Small Fish Friend, Squid-To-Common Translation Guide
Starting Skill [1d3]: 1 = Calligrapher, 2 = Pit Fighter, 3 = Psychologist

For Every Template: +1 HP, +1 to Dexterity every 2 templates.

A Squid, Robot, 2 Tentacle Attacks
B Oil Slick, 3 Tentacle Attacks
C Invisibility, 4 Tentacle Attacks
D Laser Eyes, 5 Tentacle Attacks!

You are a squid. A robot squid! You don't have hands. You instead of four tentacles. You can "talk" to other PCs based on familiarity or by ink writing. You can swim at a speed of 30'

You are also a robot. Beep boop. Which means you're immune to poison, sleep, and any sympathy whatsoever. It also means you're immune to any healing magic or HP gained from Lunch. Only resting will recover HP.

Tentacle Attacks
You have a number of tentacle attacks based on how many templates of this class you have, starting with 2 attacks at A, ramping up to 5 attacks at D. Each tentacle attack deals 1d3 damage.

Oil Slick
Twice a day you can produce an oil slick covering a 10x10 ft patch of ground, or a 15x15x15 volume of liquid. Additionally, you may substitute one of your attacks with an oil spurt. If doing so, make a combat maneuver roll. If you succeed, the opponent is blinded until they spend one round cleaning out their eyes. (Only works if they have eyes). Usable 3/Day

You can turn yourself Invisible, provided you're in contact with some surface and you're not moving.

Laser Eyes
Pew pew! You have laser eyes! Twice per day you can shoot lasers with an effective range of 400ft at a single target in line of sight. Deals 2d6 damage, no save.

Friday, March 29, 2019

Eater of Tongues

There was once a young man who had trouble talking to people. He had no friends, his family shunned him. He was utterly lonely. One day, he found himself on the edge of a pond contemplating his predicament, when a fish came to the surface. It spoke to him, asked why he seemed so lonely, and after the young man explained, the fish offered to help. The fish, it claimed, was very good at talking to people - it could show the young man how.

As he voiced his agreement, the tongue-louse in the fish's throat jumped out into the young man's mouth. The young man tried to scream, but the louse now had control of his throat. The louse then explained the situation - he would help, but he needed the young man's tongue. If he changed his mind now, the louse would rip out the young man's throat. Reluctantly, the young man agreed to the terms.

The young man died of starvation some weeks later, but he was surrounded by friends and lovers.


There was a famous bard, renowned for her subtleties of song. The greatest in the land she was called, and many kings and nobles vied to have her retained in their courts.

One day, the bard died. A sudden accident it was - she fell down the stairs and broke her neck. The funeral had many people in attendance, but a problem arose. What great singer could possibly do justice to this dead legend? Who could possibly sing with such skill to honor this dead? As the attendees contemplated in silence, a tune drifted on the air. It was the bard! She was speaking through the pall!

A crowd gathered around her corpse, first in shock, then in curiosity. The first of her pall bearers removed her death cloth and leaned over to examine the mouth. He exclaimed that there was something in the bard's throat.

"It is I," the louse in the dead woman's throat exclaimed, "the Bard to whom you are endeared. For it was not this woman that had such skill, but I who made of her my Great House!"

The body was immediately burned.

Behold, the greatest Bard in all the land!


Apparently, Really Big Spider and Robot Squid aren't parasites, so I need something else for this parasite GLOG challenge going about. How about a tongue-eating sea louse that sings enchantment songs and lives in your throat, eating all of your food? PARASITE FISH BARD! EATER OF TONGUES! ALL HAIL AND AGAPE FOR THE SIREN LOUSE!

Siren Louse
Starting Equipment: Host, Small Locket
Starting Skill [1d3]: 1 = Negotiator, 2 = Bard, 3 = Preacher

For Every Template: +1 Charisma
This is a Sea Louse Cymothoa exigua.
It has eaten this fish's tongue.

A Parasite, Siren Song, Speaker
B Song
C Song
D Song, Mating

You are a parasite. You cannot live long without a host. You don't have physical stats (STR, DEX, CON) for if you were without a host you could be crushed in an instant. Instead, you use your host's physical stats. In addition, you get to eat any or all food that the host eats as you reside in their throat. While you're in their throat, the host loses 1 point of STR, DEX, or CON (their choice) every day.

You are not in direct control of your host. They have free will over their own body. You are, however, in a position to end their life in an instant by yanking out their throat. It will kill you most likely too, but it will definitely kill them. You are in a position to eat all food that the host tries to eat. So you could very well starve them too. Hence, you shall need to negotiate. You can survive inside a dead host's mouth for 3 days.

Siren Song
You begin with one song, named "Swallow Me But Do Not Bite". It is soft and beautiful enchantment. All within 60ft who haven't plugged their ears must Save. Failure means that they will open their mouths wide for you to jump right in.

When you are inhabiting a host, you may speak in their voice, vibrating their vocal chords like some kind of psychotic serial killer. You can mimic the sound of the voice by grasping your throat as you speak.

After one week inside a host, you have severed their tongue and eaten it, replacing it entirely. You can now talk in the host's voice.

Pick one of the following songs to know. All songs unless noted have a range of 60ft. They last for as long as you care to sing them. You may only sing one song at a time. Saves must be made every round for those in the effect radius, friend or foe. Having plugged ears guarantees that the Save is made.

"Come And Give Thy Tribute."
All who fail Save will use their movement to approach the host. They won't do anything immediately dangerous from this movement (such as jumping off a cliff).

"Place Food At My Threshold, That My House Might Sustain."
All who fail Save will immediately place any food they are carrying at your host's feet. Won't work on fighting people.

"We Will Spike The Doors, That They Might Pierce The Invaders."
Sharp spear-like teeth grow on the edges of the host's mouth like a moray eel's. The host gains a Bite attack that deals 1d6 damage. The teeth retract when the song's done.

"Leave Me And Tend To Yours."
All who fail Save cannot approach within 20ft of your host.

"Fire the Hearth For The Land Is Cold And Dark"
The host radiates light through their skin in a 30ft radius. This light pierces and dispels even magical darkness.

"The Lord Commands, The House Obeys"
You take direct control of your host's body, although you cannot speak while this is happening.

"A Lord's House Is Their Castle"
Your host body receives 2 less damage from all sources, to a minimum of 1 damage.

"A House Should Not Stand Alone"
All who fail Save are Charmed. Range 10ft radius. Though, you can't both sing and talk to the victim.

"We Shall Clean the Halls, For Grime Does Not Befit Us."
The host is purged of all disease, and gains Advantage on Saves against poison and disease.

"There Shall Be No Monument That Stands Above The Sovereign House."
All within 20ft must Save or fall prone to the ground.

"Let Us Sing of Hearths Past"
You may mimic the voice of anyone's tongue you've eaten.

You've matured enough to reproduce. If you manage to find another parasite such as yourself, you can have your hosts french kiss and then vomit up a bunch of parasite babies a week later. Gross.


One time, a Siren Louse entered the mouth of a god. The god, known for his promiscuity with mortals, once went and made love with a beauty who is said to have had the voice of an angel. During the height of the act the little louse made its move. It jumped inside the gods mouth as he screamed. Surprised and shocked, the god immediately killed the beauty, and tried to curse her to eternal torment, but it was already too late. The louse had control. If the god should harm the beauty further, the louse proclaimed, then he would rip out the god's tongue and his throat both, making a mute of him forever.

Not even a god could risk losing his voice. And so the parasite made his heavenly home. Soon, strange dictates began to flow from heaven's gates. The god's followers, though utterly confused, obeyed each instruction to the letter. They would raze their temples of vainglory, come to treat each creature - no matter how small - with respect and care, and erect strange monuments to tongue-shaped things they did not understand.

And so it remains until today, for the louse had usurped a god's tongue, and gods do not die of hunger. May the God-Louse ever keep the Old Ones' tongues!

Tuesday, March 26, 2019


It's reeeeeally easy making creepy necromancy spells. And there's already so many good ones out there. As such, I'm going to put in some effort to not make 100% of these completely ethically and grotesquely horrible.

Necromancy, Cantrip
Range: Touch
Saving Throw: None
Duration: 10 Minutes
Component: S, V

You damage your own hit points, as many as you choose until you fall unconscious, to bequeath the target temporary hit points of an equal amount that last 10 minutes. For every hit point you lose, your maximum HP is also reduced by the same amount. Doing so you may not go below 0 HP, but you can render yourself unconscious by going to 0 HP. This spell nullifies the resting process for the caster.

Your maximum HP is recovered at the end of a Long Rest.

Little Life
Necromancy, Level 1
Range: Touch
Saving Throw: Constitution
Duration: 1 Week / Save each Day
Component: S, V, M (a small creature)

You take a small animal - a sparrow, a mouse, a large beetle, etc. - and mold it in your hands. You turn it into a grafting organ, and place it inside someone's body, removing their original organ in the process. The small animal will serve as a makeshift organ for up to one week, before it will give out from the stress and a new one is required.

Each day the graftee must make a Constitution Save, on Failure the graft remains another day. On success, the graft fails.

Meat Men
Necromancy, Level 2
Range: Touch
Saving Throw: None
Duration: 1 Days
Component: S, V, M (meat)

You animate a bunch of little meat men from some meat. You get one meat man per HD of creature (0 HD creatures don't have enough meat). This little meat man is at your beck and call, and is capable of following simple commands.

Meat men aren't very good at fighting, but they are small, and have a particular strength. Each of them can sustain around 25 pounds of force. They're also great vectors for disease. By the duration's end, the Meat Men rot to the point of being useless. If salted or preserved in some way (spices work great!) their duration can be increased to 3 Days.

For each spell slot level upcasting this spell, double the number of meat men you make.

Soul Broth
Necromancy, Level 3
Range: Touch
Saving Throw: None
Casting Time: 15 Hours
Duration: 1 Day
Component: S, V, M (cooking pot, water, salt, veggies, fresh creature)

You make a hearty magical soup by boiling something very recently dead (or alive), separating some of its soul out into the broth. This broth may then be ingested later to heal and provide special effects. Treat the broth as a potion. ((Note: Creature must have soul for this to work. Ergo most constructs and possibly undead may not apply.))

For each HD of creature that went into the broth, it will heal 1d6 HP damage. If you cook it into a proper soup it will heal 1d8 HP damage per HD. You also get one of the following effects, chosen secretly by the DM:

- A secret that it took to the grave.
- The last thing it thought of.
- It's True Name
- The hinge of its existence (last driving motivation)

Magic Compost Jar
Necromancy, Level 4
Range: Touch
Saving Throw:
Casting Time: 5 Minutes
Duration: 1 Day
Component: S, V, M (body)

You compost a body over a week, visiting it once per day to cast the spell. At its conclusion, you collect the compost from the body and put it in a jar - the Magic Compost Jar.

When you spread this compost on any kind of plants (or anything else that eats compost), it will possess them for 1 Day. The spirit of the composted thing controls this plant, and it can uproot itself and walk around like a mobile little creature. If this plant is composted, the same spirit as the original compost will be preserved in the next compost.

Necromancy, Level 5
Range: Self
Saving Throw: Constitution
Duration: 1 Week / Save each Day
Component: S, V, M (fresh organs of choice)

On failed Save, you manage to graft a fresh organ of your choice onto your body. On a successful Save, the organs are rejected and will slowly poison you if not removed (poisoned condition). On failure, it grows and merges into your skin, acting as a redundant organ. These temporary organs last a week at most. Removing them causes no damage on a DC 15 Medicine check, or 1d4 damage per point of failure.

Example Organs:
Liver: Grants advantage on saves against poison and resistance to poison damage.
Eye: Gives you another functional eye. Great on the back of your head.
Skin: Heals up to 50 points of Fire damage.
Hand: Who doesn't want an extra hand?
Muscle: Gain 2 Strength
Fat: Grant yourself resistance to cold damage and survive without food a few more days.

"I'm sure this Graft spell will only be used responsibly!"

Eternal Battle
Necromancy, Level 6
Range: 120ft
Saving Throw: None
Duration: Length of Battle.
Component: S, V, M (a spear, which is thrown into the battle prior to it starting)

All combatants of the battle designated by the spear-thrower will fight, and then they will fight again. Once the battle has concluded, all combatants heal of all injuries, spell slots, and HP loss obtained during the battle - with exception to the spell slot used for this spell. All combatants have knowledge of what happened in the first battle.

(Note: Not recommended to have this spell if you do long drawn-out 5e combat. It needs to be reasonably short or else it'll feel like a slog.)

Soul Bomb
Necromancy, Level 7
Range: Self
Area: 50ft radius
Saving Throw: Dexterity
Duration: 24 Hours
Component: S, V, M (yourself)

This spell activates upon your death. You explode, in a shower of blood and gore and soul stuff, taking everyone around with you. Deals 20d10 necrotic damage in a 50ft radius centered on yourself. Half damage on save. Additionally, anything within the radius with 100HP or less must make a Constitution Save or die instantly.

If you explode in such a manner, you cannot be resurrected, reincarnated, brought back, or communicated with by any means. Your soul is obliterated.

Life Link
Necromancy, Level 8
Range: Touch
Saving Throw: Constitution
Duration: Permanent
Component: S, V

On failed save (may be voluntarily failed), the target and the caster become mortally linked. Their old lifespans are now disregarded, and their remaining years is now the average between the two of them. The target and caster now share an HP pool which is the total of their respective hit points.

If one should die, then so will the other. Other people may be added to the link. Only a Wish or Astral Scissors may undo a Life Link.

((Fun Application: An entire tribe has bound themselves up in this spell. They must continue to rise the birth rate or else they will all die simultaneously. The oldest is some 200 years old. They are all meticulously careful.))

Necromancy, Level 9
Range: Touch
Saving Throw: Charisma
Duration: Permanent
Component: S, V

On failed Save, the target's soul is destroyed and its body crumbles to nothing. The target cannot be resurrected, animated, or transported to another plane. It simply no longer exists. More than that, the target is erased from all memory from everything, and time-reality will warp around to ensure that the target never existed. The target is fully unmade in every sense.

If the target makes it Charisma Save, this spell will never work on them at any point in time, ever. Even if one were to travel back in time or phase to another parallel reality and try again it won't work. You only get one shot.

Thursday, March 21, 2019

The Last Jury Trial of Wizard City

An idea for a mystery module for Wizard City (or any high magic setting, really): jury trials are a holdover from less magical times.

The Background

A famous wizard mob boss allegedly commits literal mass murder in front of a crowd of 2000 people then gives himself up to authorities and admits to the crime, then pleads not guilty while still admitting to the crime. His case goes to a jury trial.

It goes horribly wrong. He's found unanimously innocent, despite the mountain of evidence against him, including his own testimony, in which he bragged about the murders to the whole court.

The player-characters are tasked with finding out what went wrong, BEFORE the retrial is set to occur. They get paid for each flaw they find.

What they start out with:

- Court Transcripts
- Identities of the Members of the Court
- Identity of the Defendant
- Identities of all Wizard-Lawyers involved
- Identities of the 9 Jurors (12 seems like too many for one adventure).
- Addresses for most of the people there.

Their job is to piece together what the heck happened that led to a unanimous non-guilty verdict.

The answer? Everything. Everything went wrong. Literally everything.

Court Transcript: magically modified post-trial.

Jurors: Suggested, Brain-washed, Commanded, Sleeper-Agented, Doppleganged, Threatened, Cursed, Bribed, or Thrown-Into-Future.

Lawyers: Wizardry used extensively. Enchantment spells layered with testimonial-illusions. Security threats conjured in the courtroom. Multiple people illusioned to look like the defendant. Zones of Truth dispelled and replaced with illusion versions. The works.

Defendant: Cloned several times prior to incident. The guy sitting in jail and at the trial was actually just some bum who was altered to look like one of the clones.

Judge: Utilized divination spells to augury and foresee the trial, thereby biasing his opinions before it even began.

Prosecutors: Memories of law practice modified, bamboozled and confused.

Evidence: Tampered, extra-dimensionally lost.

I sorta imagine it was like this, literally. Giant 8-ft tall wizard lawyer man,
12 identical egghead people in a box labelled "Jury".

The Catch

None of this really matters. New laws have been passed. Summary punishments are set to take effect within the month. The jury system is being phased out (for obvious reasons). This is all for the purpose of satiating some idealist's notions of justice and improving the system.

The double catch is that this entire endeavor was an elaborate ritual - the massacre, the trial, everything, down to the last detail. That's why getting everything was important. Every factor is a component in the ritual. What does the ritual do? Does it wipe all existing memory of a person, even to gods? Does it bequeath immortality? Does it assure that a person may not be named? (If the defendant was only referred to as "the defendant", this could be fun.)

Tuesday, March 12, 2019


It's common knowledge that you destroy illusions by convincing them that they may not exist - unveiling the subjectivity of reality will erode them like a weeping acid. But what happens if you do the opposite? What happens when you take an illusion and reinforce its notions of itself, when you go to terrible lengths of creation to uphold the fiction of a fiction?

If it is a simple thing, then the thing becomes real. If that illusion was a person, then you get a Shade.

A Shade is an illusion of a person which believes itself to be real. It is a crafted soul.

From Westworld

It takes time and introspection to create a Shade. Unless you have intimate access to somebody else's soul, the only person who you can make is yourself. Usually, only you are privy to the depths of your personality: your secrets, your desires, your quirks, your thoughts, the important hidden subconscious bits that define personhood. The crafting is a work of inspiration and obsessiveness - everything must be believable, or the spell will fail.

Shades tend to look better than their original counterparts, or slightly worse. Rarely are they exactly the same. Any model can be used to create a Shade, though the most person-like fare the best - it is harder to convince a Shade that it isn't real the more real it looks. The oldest of Shades are completely indistinguishable from their originals - their joints crackle when they bend and every spiral in every fingerprint is just so.

How to tell them apart? Oftentimes you can't. They bleed and eviscerate the same goo as in all of us. There are two ways, however.

First, a Shade cannot survive a Dispel Magic, or enter an Anti-Magic Field. If subject to these spells the Shade will pop out of existence forever. They will simply cease to be. They don't know this.

Second, to question its premise for existing. There is an innate resistance in Shades to never want to think or talk about the subjectivity of reality. If the subject comes up they will avoid it - they'll leave the room, or come up with some excuse to go, or bring up another discussion topic. If someone suggests they might not be real, they will become uncomfortable and defensive, irrationally so.

If they entertain the thought that they may not be real, if they truly consider it even for a moment, they will start to dissolve into nothing. It is very painful to experience and to watch - a positive feedback loop of destruction. The soul may be illusory, but the screams are real. A Shade, though an illusion, is as much a person as you or I, and that is the worst part of all.

Shades in the World

Nobody thinks, from one moment to the next, that they are aging; therefore, Shades do not age. This can be their downfall. Old Shades will rationalize this somehow, even creating self-believing fictions of immortality or vampirism to shield their minds from the potential truth.


People fear it, for it reveals the superficiality of their existence. The gods hate it and will seek to destroy both it and its creator, for soul-making is the domain of gods alone. Beasts ignore it, for they only concern themselves with the divine spark, in which the Shade has none.

Shade's Shade

Powerful Shades can learn illusion magic, just like their creators. In fact, they often tend to be better at illusions than those who made them. This brings up the strong possibility that a Shade may create a Shade - a simulacrum of a simulacrum - man making machine making... something. What will be the souls that Artificial Intelligences make? The answer to that is what a Shade's Shade is.

Lesser Shades

Souls born from lesser inspirations are often not long for this world. They often live just long enough to see themselves, then they melt. They are defective in obvious ways: perfect skin, unnatural flexibility, lack of smell, or a scent too consistent. They are popular with recluses, who create bubbles of fiction in their domains to sustain their creations. Lesser Shades rarely survive contact with outsiders, and so they're often kept isolated.

Wednesday, March 6, 2019

The Evergreen Pyramid of the Glade Lord

I had an idea for a dungeon on my way to work this morning: it's a Giza-style pyramid, but it's made of trees. Evergreen trees, particularly. This is how it works.

It all started 2500 years ago, with the planting of The Golden Pine - a gift from a wood elf lord to his consorts, who he claimed would never have such beauty as when they were with him (he was an asshole). The Golden Pine had needles of gold, and all around it sprouted greater trees, fit for monuments. Every 250 years the Golden Pine and its offspring would grow 50ft and seed the area directly around them, producing offspring which grew at a similar pace.

Over 2500 years, this means ten generations of trees had grown. Ten levels of a pyramid made from this forest. Every 250 years another level is grown up, and the pyramid expands outwards in radius. Each layer is broader than the last. (Shit, this makes a cone, not a pyramid. WHATEVER.)

But over two millennia, the power of the wood elves faded. Their empire has crumbled, and their noble lineages of Reincarnates have become lost. Now savage creatures trespass on the pyramid.

This puts the pyramid at around 500ft high, just a bit taller than the Great Pyramid.
The Golden Pine, shining like a beacon in the Sun, can still be seen from afar.

  • Bark Mummies - the old bodies of now-reincarnated wood elves looking for souls to fill their empty vessels. They're the old wood elf lord's lovers. Rotted hollow on the inside, bark on the outside.
  • Giant squirrels.
  • A bounty of gold to be plucked from the Golden Pine. Maybe it also has medicinal properties.
  • A huge freakin' bird that nests near the top, complete with chicks it needs to feed. It likes the lumberjacks the most. NO, wait, better: TWO huge freakin' birds. A mated pair. They're cowards and won't pick a fight with anything that can fight back if they're looking for food, but if you get near their nest then they'll fuck you right up! One rests while the other hunts.
  • Wood elf patrols of the fallen empire, spread thin but zealous in devotion to kill and capture trespassers. Few in number but skilled.
  • Seasonal changes for the dungeon.
  • The ground under the pyramid is covered in highly acidic pine needles and traps. Moving along the bottom is certain death - one must navigate through the layers of the trees.
  • Mercenary grave-robber lumberjacks, who've cut away some of the pyramid to reveal a cross section for easy access. They clear the pine acid but are constantly harried by the giant birds. They've been hired to get at the Golden Pine, and harvest its needles so some emperor can make tea from them.
  • Pine dryads, perhaps?
  • Oozing sap oozes, of course.
  • Something with pine cones. Do they explode? Do they turn into little pine cone men? Will eating one make you momentarily immune to the trees' defenses? Are they simply valuable because they'll grow more of these evergrowing trees? Maybe different pine cones do different things. All of the above.
  • Sexy tree sex? (This is not as sexy as it sounds.) It is a tomb for multiple lovers, after all.
  • Evil wilt creature thing, eating the pyramid tree by tree?
  • Wood elf history, genealogies, reincarnation records, carved or grown into inner trees.
  • Lots of spiky pit traps. Pit traps which drop you down several floors like snakes and ladders.
  • Vertical dungeon shenanigans. Tons of pits and trees to climb up/down.
  • Fledgling god of the wood growing within the core. It is not a nice god. Maybe it's the reincarnating lord of the wood? Man, if he founds out what somebody's doing to his pyramid he will be PISSED.
  • Tree-sarcophagi, curses, false chambers, treasures of the wood elves, all that jazz.
  • Tom, the surly Lumberjack, is a reincarnated elven princess and consort of the wood elf lord. He still has memories of his previous reincarnations, and over time he's realized just how awful and horrible the lord guy was. He finds this entire pyramid a disgusting monument to their awful relationship, and he wants to find his Bark Mummy and destroy it. Then he wants to burn or cut the whole pyramid down.
  • There are still entities within the pyramid that recognize the above elven princesses, and will call them by such. Maybe an old treant or a nut golem or something.
  • Wait, y'know what's better? If all of the ex-consorts are there, trying to destroy their own Bark Mummies. They're in various reincarnated forms: a surly lumberjack, a butterfly, a young doe, a raven, a troll. They'll grant you boons if you can help them destroy their gross trophy-mummies.
  • Speaking of trophies: gross hunting trophies. Massive antlers decorated with impaled skeletons, mummified human faces kept in pine acid water, leather.
  • Hmmm.... Treants. They can't be just normal treants. Maybe... self-conflagrationing treants? They set themselves on fire and explode/hug, so they can spread their seeds all over. Fresh bodies make good fertilizer. Evergrowing treants? There's like one or two of 'em, and they're moving column-rooms in the pyramid. Rotting treants? They've not native to the pyramid, so the bugs eat them.
  • Spiders.
  • Immortal Acid Weavils. They eat the pine needles, and it makes them immortal. They just keep growing and growing until they're huge and smart.
  • What Happens When You Cut Open This Tree Table
I was thinking about this game in particular: Photosynthesis.
It's an excellent game. Very challenging!
The Crooked Forest - Source