Helgacon 12 - Red Petals on the Road

The first game I ran was on Thursday evening. It was a spinoff from one of my other offerings, using a subset of the characters I'd prepared for it.

I've been running an Arabian Nights themed game for several years, which I decided to put on the shelf for a while last year. So this year I embarked on a journey to the Far East, exploring adventures in a setting influenced by the sengoku period of feudal Japan, with a strong fantasy element of yokai and magic. The system I was using was my usual Labyrinth Lord, with a hearty injection from 1985's classic D&D supplement Oriental Adventures, which I've owned since it came out, and was one of the first game settings I'd ever run D&D in, back in my college days in the early 90's.

I had four excellent players, who chose the following characters:

L to R: Mikei the neko hengeyokai ninja, Takenoko the kitsune hengeyokai kensai, Genzo the human Shugenja, and Hoshi the young, idealistic human samurai.

The armies of the aggressive Akai clan were massing on the borders of the province ruled by the Kobai clan. In the interest of forming a defensive alliance with the neighboring Murasaki clan, who had heretofore remained carefully neutral, the daimyo of the Kobai dispatched his daughter Lady Sakura as an envoy to negotiate. To safeguard her travel, she went disguised as a merchant's daughter on a pilgrimage, with only two servants to assist her. The characters were recruited by the loyal Kon ninja clan to give her extra protection when passing through a village on the border between Kobai and Murasaki territory known to be crawling with vicious Akai ninja bent on kidnapping her to use as a hostage against her father.

Here is the village I mapped out. I printed out an 11X17 map and placed it on the table as the main game map. Behind the screen I had my own key showing where various ninja ambushes and other dangers awaited our travellers. Some of the houses and shops were loyal to Lord Kobai, others traitors and turncoats in league with the Akai. There were also places where they would be able to get resources or allies that would aid them on their journey.

I prepared this map as a handout to the players, to give them some idea of the features of the village. I started the session with a simple outline of what I was expecting from this game. (Which is an idea I got from a Wandering DMs' video on the subject of convention games from a couple weeks ago.)

Long story short, I gave them a goal, made them aware of their resources, and laid out a setting. It was up to them to figure out how to get Lady Sakura safely from their secret meeting place in the hills above the village to the potter's house on the other side of the river. So the group put their heads together and started building a plan.

The party decided to keep a relatively low profile, and so decided to take the less travelled road past the woods and rice fields to the south rather than traverse the commercial street with its inns and shops. The two shapeshifting hengeyokai took on their animal forms and scouted a little ways ahead, with the agreed upon signal of rolling on their backs as if taking a dust bath if they spotted trouble. Young Hoshi trailed behind Lady Sakura and her servants and priest Genzo, acting as if he were merely traveling in the same direction as the others.

Trotting along the treeline our sly shapeshifters caught sight of someone lurking in the trees by the road across from a ruined, abandoned mansion on the outskirts of town. Sunlight glinted on blades, alerting Takenoko's keen vixen eyes to the presence of the enemy. She flopped on her back and started rolling around, giving the rest of the group enough warning that they were ready when a barrage of shuriken erupted from the trees and the battle was joined.

One luckless ninja rolled a 1, and was compelled to suffer the effects of my Dodecahedrons of Doom critical tables, falling indecorously out of the tree he'd been hiding in. Another unfortunate shinobi suddenly found himself with a bobtailed cat trying to claw his eyes out as Mikei attacked without bothering to shift forms. She was soon joined by Takenoko, who clamped on to the hapless ninja's ankle and started worrying it fiercely.

Hoshi charged forward, wielding his ancestral family blade, the Satori Ken. Every time he struck, a ninja fell dead. Priest Genzo held back and shielded the Lady, having received a slash across his forehead from a shuriken that had pierced his straw hat.

The surviving ninjas quickly fled, having been called to withdraw by a shadowy entity lurking within' the abandoned manor house across the road. As quickly as they'd appeared, they were gone.

After dusting themselves off and tending to the few light wounds they'd taken, the group moved on, making their way between the granary sheds where the local farmers counted and baled their koku of rice. Takenoko took on her hybrid form, allowing her to wield her magical naginata Koeda, and loped along a bit ahead of the party to scout the way.

Passing by the final granary shed, she was suddenly attacked by a large pack of rats that leaped upon her from the tall grass and bore her to the ground, scratching and biting. Overwhelmed, she didn't see a skulking obakenezu, a goblin rat in the uniform of an Akai ninja, scuttling forth to slay her with its bladed claws.

Fortunately, Mikei and Hoshi rushed to her aid, with the youthful samurai beheading the foul creature with his magic blade as the neko pounced upon one of the rats and killed it as cats have done to its kind since time immemorial. Without the evil will of the obakenezu to focus their frenzy, the remaining rats scattered as fox and cat snapped and clawed, and another vile ambush was defeated.

A bit more worse for wear this time, the party regrouped and prepared to move onward, when their collective ears perked up at the sound of a little boy calling to them from up the road.

The boy said that he was the grandson of the village elder, and that his grandpa would help them and tend their wounds if they followed him. The party agreed to follow him.

Once again, it was thanks to Takenoko's sharp eyes that they discovered something was amiss. She noticed the tip of a fox's tail peeking out from under the hem of the boy's kimono. Just as they reached the secluded grove of cherry trees between the elder's house and the local tea house, she leapt upon him and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, demanding that he reveal his true form.

This he did, transforming first into a male fox, and then into the richly robed kitsune sorceror Kuwadono, a notorious trickster and mercenary ally to the Akai.

A band of ninja emerged from the blossoming trees with their swords drawn, interposing themselves between the heroes and the hengeyokai wizard to protect him as he snatched up some dead leaves to set alight and use to cast a spell. The village elder, his daughter, and grandchild were shoved onto the back porch under the threatening blades of two more ninjas, demonstrating that they were hostages.

Without a second thought the group attacked, with Hoshi leaping bravely up to rescue the village elder and his family. Takenoko charged Kuwadono with her mystic naginata, while Genzo chanted a sutra of protection for his allies and shielded the Lady Sakura. Mikei crept through the brush, taking a moment to assume her hybrid form and crouching to spring when the moment was right. Hoshi felled one of the ninjas who held the elder's daughter at blade point, and prepared to fight the other.

Deciding that his Flaming Eyes spell was taking too long, Kuwadono instead conjured a pair of Flame Shuriken, hurling one at Genzo and blinding him whilst throwing the other behind him at Hoshi. As the magical missiles burst into clouds of noxious smoke, Mikei seized her moment and attacked, slashing at the kitsune sorceror from behind with a critical hit.

Her player rolled a 5 on the Critical Hit Success table. Humiliated! Kuwadono's ostentatious robes were slashed away from his scrawny fox body, leaving him ridiculously exposed as the jumped up varmint he was.

Demoralized, shamed, and in disarray, a gekkering Kuwadono ordered a retreat as he scampered away vowing vicious revenge on the heroes. The surviving ninjas cast their smoke grenades and vanished.

Profoundly grateful, the village elder invited the group inside, binding their wounds and bringing out a healing potion to cure their ailments. As his daughter served them tea, the venerable old man informed them of many interesting things.

He told them that if they went to his dear friend the sake brewer and told them of what they'd done for him, the brewer would give them a jug of his finest sake. This, he went on to say, could be traded to the boat builder by the river, so that they might secure a boat to make the crossing. (The party had decided that taking the bridge was just asking for another ninja ambush.) He also informed the group that if they wished to bolster their numbers, that there was a trustworthy ronin at the tea house next door who might be persuaded to join them if they bought him a meal.

Thanking the elder profusely, they set out to act on all of this valuable information. First, they went to the inn, and recruited the ronin Daisuke to their cause. Since he had been made a ronin by the Akai overthrowing his lord, he readily agreed to join them.

Their numbers bolstered, the party made their way to the sake brewer's, where the met the jovial proprietor seated on his porch sampling some of his wares.

As they were telling him the tale of their recent battles and the rescue of the village elder and his family, a furious Kuwadono reappeared, covering his shame with cloths disrepectfully stolen from a nearby Inari shrine and brandishing a magical jewel that summoned flame spirits to attack.

The sake brewer cried out in alarm that the bounding spheres of flame would set his whole establishment alight, so the heroes leapt to the attack. Takenoko slashed one into scattering flickers as Hoshi and Daisuke rushed around the back of the building to attack the enraged sorcerer from his flank. Mikei darted under the raised storage huts where the brewer kept his stock of rice and the jars of fermenting rice wine.

Kuwadono stopped half of the party with a Hypnotic Pattern spell, causing those who failed their save to stand transfixed by the swirling sparks he conjured in the air. Unfortunately for him, he had failed to ensnare his nemesis Mikei, who leapt from the shadows of the sheds and slid one of her tanto blades between his ribs, piercing his black heart. With a ragged shriek he dropped the magical jewel and his improvised coverings and staggered into the road, where he fell and lay still, just another dead animal by the roadside.

Takenoko the vixen finished off the last of his flame spirits, dispersing them with the blade of her naginata. They recovered the recently roadkilled sorceror's magic jewel, an extra bonus prize for their troubles.

The grateful brewer bestowed two jugs of sake on the party, as well as another healing potion and a Potion of Heroism. Thanking him, the group made their way to the boat builder's shed. As they approached, a final ambuscade of ninja leapt out from hidey holes concealed beneath straw mats covered in riverbank sand. Genzo cast a Hold Person spell, freezing many in their tracks, while his companions slew the rest with their deft bladework.

They proceeded to greet the boat maker, who had hidden inside the hull of one of his latest creations as the battle raged among the fishing boats beached beside his hut. He gladly traded them a vessel to cross the river for some of the sake brewer's fine sake.

And thus they got across the river, and made their way safely to the potter's house, where a palanquin from the Murasaki clan arrived to spirit a grateful Lady Sakura away as night fell. As the party stood out front of the potters, thinking upon the day's events, the shadowy figure that had called off the ninja in their first encounter appeared, a dark outline with gleaming eyes. It commended them on their bravery and skill, and acknowledged that they had won this battle. As it melted away into the darkness, its eyes flared. There would be another time, and they would be made to regret their interference. This was a promise from Yurei No Kage, the mistress of shadows.

Chalk one up for the good guys. Better luck next time, bad guys. :P

ANALYSIS:
I'm totally thrilled with how well this session went, and as we wrapped up one of my players complimented me on the pacing, which was a HUGE relief because that was probably what I was most afraid of messing up. The village isn't huge, it's only 650' X 420', and a party moving at a good jog could cross it in a couple rounds, if nothing gets in their way. 

Therefore it was up to me to throw as many impediments in the party's way as I could. This I did, both working off the key but also moving things in their way, like Kuwadono disguising himself as the elder's grandson. This may seem obvious, but one of the bad DM impulses I usually have to fight to overcome is the urge to keep everything as written, rather than making my setting elements flexible. So I'm glad that I ignored that impulse and put ninjas wherever they suited the emerging narrative.

On the other side of that same coin, I'm particularly pleased with how free I was with the information the grateful village elder shared with the party. Another bad DM impulse I have is to be stingy with info. If I'd have held back on all the stuff the old man shared, then the adventure would have probably ground to a halt as the players lost momentum trying to figure out what they'd do next.

It might be okay to tease out info in a campaign game, but with a convention game, it's better to give the players as many actionable items they can sink their teeth into as possible. The village elder's house encounter was like the second stage of the session's plot rocket firing, carrying us to a satisfying conclusion.

So yeah, all told a great session and a wonderful kick off for Helgacon XII for yours truly.

Konbanwa! Kampai!

Presenting: The Creepy Crawl Chronicles

One of the best RPG campaigns I ever ran (IMHO) kind of happened out of the blue, and started one chilly November evening after a day when bulk bags of candy went on sale at a deep discount in all the stores and the bats and pumpkins were being taken down in all the elementary schools and replaced with hand turkeys and pilgrim hats.

As longtime followers of this blog may recall, I have this thing I've often run on Halloween called the Creepy Crawl. It's essentially old school D&D with an old school (think Universal & Hammer studios) horror movie twist. I have custom classes replacing the bog standard dwarves, elves, and halflings, and overall it's more creepy, kooky, ookey, and spooky than normal. Such as normal is in D&D…

Here are some prior posts for background's sake:
Creepy Crawl 2009 
Creepy Crawl 2010 & Anaylsis
Son of Creepy Crawl 2010 & Analysis
Creepy Crawl 2011

After having relocated from Boston to Pittsburgh and secured a job, I eventually recruited a body of co-workers to give my grisly little game a try one evening shortly on the heels of All Hallows Eve. (This was a tech company, and I was in the software department as a graphic artist and UI designer. Naturally, there were many there who were "of the tribe" if you know what I mean, and if you're reading this you probably do.)

Well, they really enjoyed it, and wanted to keep playing. So we decided to try running an hour long game at lunchtime a couple times a week. What blossomed thereafter was a freakishly freeform fantasia of wonderful weirdness, sandwiched in between getting food and getting back to work. I was usually flying by the seat of my pants, because once I ran thru my original event material I had to continue filling in this weird, kinda gothic, kinda schlocky, kinda old school sandbox style game.

Following each session, I'd punch out a quick email updating the players and letting them know where things stood. Recently I was discussing play reports with my incomparable compadre Delta, and for a long time I've wanted to show off the magnificent bizarreness of the Creepy Campaign, so I'm gonna start reposting those update emails here on this blog as kind of a regular series. Should be worth a couple laffs, at least. I know it's early Spring right now and Halloween is months away, but since when does the calendar dictate when I have to be spooky?

These emails will be presented as they went out on the company email system, although the names, dates, and location have been edited to protect the guilty. Do not adjust your set. Any shivers going up your spine are between you and your chiropractor.

Enjoy

Creepy Crawl - Invitation



I’ll be running a grisly little something I like to call the “Creepy Crawl” on Friday night, starting at 6:00 PM and going ‘til 9:00 or whenever. Monsters will be mashed, characters will be mangled, crypts will be looted, and a good time will be had by all.

Feel free to let anybody else at (Redacted) know if they might be interested.

Creepy Crawl - Session I

I’d call Friday’s Creepy Crawl a rousing success.

If you guys would like to continue exploring the catacombs, we could make this a more regular thing. Of course timing, as always, is an issue, so here are a couple of suggestions:

1: We could do a monthly Friday night session, that would run kind of like it ran last Friday (Start at 6 pm, go ‘til 9-10 as desired)

2: We could play hour long sessions over lunch. This would necessitate participants packing/getting takeout. We could be flexible with frequency. It could be a daily thing, or we could do it MWF or on Tuesday/Thursday or one day a week or whatever. I can run this rather light, with just pencils, paper, and dice, which makes it easy to set up and get rolling, as well as knock off fairly quickly.

3: If there were enough interest, we could do a weekly game, but I’d probably prefer a Thursday night for that, and it’d only be for 2-3 hours tops.

I’m amenable to whatever, so let me know if there’s interest. I’ll still occasionally pull together a convention style one shot of whatever whenever the mood and inclination strikes.

So here’s the totals for what your gruesome gang of goons have acquired so far:

Monsters mashed:
Werewolf – stabbed repeatedly in face with silver dagger, bludgeoned with silver teapot, and head exploded with magic missile
Werewolf – ran off after being goosed with wolfsbane.
5 rat creatures – stabbed, arrowed, speared, javelined and bisected.
               XP AWARD: 740 xp

Loot grabbed:
40 Gold Pieces
Necklace of ceramic beads and river pearls. (50 GP)
Silver Tea Pot (Partially crumpled) (10 GP)
               XP AWARD: 100 xp

Total XP Award: 840 xp / 4 Party Members = 210 xp each.

Assorted gear picked up:
3 Magical Crossbow bolts (+1 to Hit)
1 Spear
1 Crossbow + 20 Bolts
2 Hand Axes
2 Carving Knives

A good haul, all told.

Your Dungeon Master is pleased.

Stay tuned for more, boils and ghouls...

Big bullies and little bullies

Lets start at the bottom. Since my Dungeon Kit idea is kind of an intro adventure, I figured I'd include one of the basics as the sort of substrate of monsters in the compact adventures I'm keying up.

Behold, my kobolds!

 

I did a couple things a little differently with these little guys. Firstly, I made 'em green, just 'cos why not? (They kinda remind me of miniature (miniature miniature?) versions of the classic green, pig faced orcs from the 80's D&D cartoon.)

Honestly, your bog standard Warhammer/Warcraft tinged greenies kinda bore me, so if I'm using orcs and goblins at all (which I tend to prefer not to, again 'cos they're so overused) I tend to paint 'em in different shades than green. Kobolds have a much wider range of interpretation, from rat like scaly dog twerps to stunted little cousins thrice removed to dragons. So I figured for once I'd go green.

Secondly, since I like using minis in play, I decided to base them in groups, to spare myself wrangling a million little individual figs on the tabletop. Since these guys are half a HD to begin with and prefer to attack in droves, it seemed like a logical choice. We'll see how it goes in game.

Due to forgetting that I already owned a pack of Reaper's "Kobold Leaders" I got a nice brace of "big" bodyguards for my kobold sorcerer boss, plus a spare sorcerer in the bits box for undetermined future use.

Moving up the totem pole of dungeon goons, and also 'cos I wanted to work on something non-dinky, we've got some big bruisers.

Mountain Troll, Ettin, and Ogre

Ogres are kinda the intro to man-like monsters that the party needs to use pack tactics on to take down. I've got a few of Warhammer's pretty awesome ogre figs for that purpose, but this guy's part of my recent post-holiday Reaper wave. The ettin's from a couple of years ago, and saw his debut on the table at a seafaring Thousand Year Sandglass game I ran at Helgacon 9. (In a tribute to the classic Popeye cartoon he was backing up an evil pirate captain who also had a giant pet vulture.) Finally, the very Peter Jackson-esque troll who I got as heavy support for a villian that I wound up using other goons for. I think if I was gonna stat him up for Labyrinth Lord he'd either be an armored up hill giant or a runty stone giant.

Anyway, that's the large and small of it...

'Tis the season...

... for me to cover the table with miniatures that need paintin'. It seems to happen around this time of year. I dunno if it's just an after affect of the holidays or making plans for upcoming gaming events.

So this year for Christmas, my nephew got me a bunch of dice sets, which led me to cook up the idea of making a portable, ready to play "D&D kit" for those random occasions where I run into a bunch of folks who're interested in playing but have never had the chance and we all have a few hours to kill and aren't going anyplace.

Okay, it's 00's on a d100, but if that extremely unlikely set of circumstances comes up I wanna be ready for it. Plus it's an excuse to buy more minis, which is one of my few material vices.

Part of the portability factor is having some minis that are nice and durable, and also blazingly cheap. Thus, my selections are all from Reaper's gloriously affordable Bones line. Now that I've sussed out the proper way to prime and seal them, without getting unfortunate chemical reactions and unwanted tackiness, they've become my brand of choice. Did I mention they're inexpensive?

My axe of choice on the tabletop is Labyrinth Lord. It's nice and basic, and easy for me to lift up the hood and tinker with. So for the six dice sets I chose and color matched the classic tetrad of classes (fighter, thief, magic user, and cleric) and filled out the rest with the most popular of the demi-human classes (elf and dwarf). Sorry, halflings. Guess you came up short.

I've got a couple smallish maps from the inestimable Dyson Logos that I need to key up, and I'll make some quickie character sheets, probably laminated so that they can be used with dry erase pens.

Of course, into any dungeon, monsters must fall, so I got some workable basic stock:

 

Skellies

Giant Bugs

Berserkers

Miscellaneous Critters

Ochre Jellies

Living Statues

Deep burrowing aberrations and their Brain Beast master

Anyway, that's a good start, but there's so much more to paint and show, so watch this space as the year unfolds.

New Monster - Dungeon Hogs

A morlock swineherd takes his hogs to market. Soooeeee!

Number Encountered: 1d4 (2d10)
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 60 (20)
Armor Class: 7
Hit dice: 3
Attacks: Bite
Damage: 1d8
Save: D2
Morale: 7
Hoard: None

Dungeon hogs are a vile breed of swine raised in the underlands by all manner of subterranean races as a food source when more delectable adventurers and other surface meat isn't available. They are ill tempered and vicious, immune to poisons of all kinds, and can digest almost anything, even bones, wood, or metal. It is a well known fact that anything that winds up in their slop troughs will be completely irretrievable before long, and thus the pens of dungeon hogs are said to be good places to bury things you don't want dug up eventually. (There is one apocryphal tale of a green slime infestation overtaking a goblin swineherd's pen. There is much dispute between tellers of this tale as to whether the slimes were digesting the hogs or vice versa.)

These creatures appear as massive, hideous pigs with an overall greenish tint to their tissues. Their eyes gleam red with a feral intensity belied by their utter stupidity. They develop bioluminescent nodules in random patterns across their skin, which make them easy to keep track of in the deep darks.

Occasionally a dungeon hog will break out of its enclosure and wander about the tunnels and caves making a dangerous nuisance of themselves. Adventurers would be well advised to give these creatures a wide berth, and under no circumstances should you feed them if you want to keep all of your appendages.

The meat of a dungeon hog is greasy but flavorful, and if properly roasted, salted, or smoked it's almost certainly safe for surface dwellers to consume.

Almost certainly.

    Sir Guy looked dubiously at the morlock pitmaster, who smiled at him with a jagged mouthful of filed teeth, then back at the "sandwich" of greenish pulled pork smothered in a pungent sauce of unknown provenance between two thick slices of black fungus bread. He shrugged, then hunched his shoulders and took a big bite.
    The morlock rubbed his pasty hands together expectantly, his scarlet eyes lighting up. "Well? What does the surface man think? It is choicest meat not on two legs, raised from squealer in my own pens on nothing but lichen and kobolds."
    The questing gastronome gave his host a sidelong glance and a smile. "Mmm. Verily, 'tis gold pieces."

Bon Appetit.

These monsters are hereby designated as Open Game Content via the Open Game License.

New Labyrinth Lord Race/Class - Living Gems

 

   Mose was grinning from ear to ear as his gaze lit upon the large, golden jewel embedded in the forehead of the squat, antediluvian idol crouching in the dank, dripping alcove of the half-sunken ruins. While he was cold, and wet, and still a bit upset at the circumstances that had separated him from his companions, if he could pry this pretty bauble loose and… somehow…  make it out alive, then it would all be well worth it. And if he ever saw his partners again they didn't need to know every detail of his miraculous escape. 

    With numb fingers he produced a shiv from his sodden sleeve and began to work at the setting, scratching away at the black, pitted lead solder holding the apricot sized gem in the carved diadem encircling the ugly effigy's rumpled brow. He let out a stuttering sound between a laugh and a shudder as it popped loose into his grime caked palm. 

    He held it in the guttering light of his last stub of a candle, admiring how the facets shimmered like a fountain of gold coins pouring between his fingers in a freshly picked treasure chest. Maybe his luck was changing. 

    He shrieked like a rabbit in a snare and dropped both candle and jewel into the murky water at his feet as something sinuous and hideously strong wrapped around his ankles and dragged him backward through the muck and then hung him upside down. He went limp and silent with primal terror as a burbling growl that came from a place where daylight never penetrated filled the echoing catacomb. 

    Mose didn't know if he was hallucinating when he saw something like a small sun light up by the base of the idol. The gem he had just pried loose rose up from the ground, a golden corona expanding around its glittering mass. This coalesced into a human-like shape that sprouted limbs and a head as it went from amorphous to sharply detailed in its outline. 

    The figure drifted down to the ground, landing lightly on its feet as it resolved into the lithe figure of a girlish boy, or perhaps a boyish girl, with tawny skin and an unruly shock of bright yellow hair. She was clad in a half cape, tunic, and leggings with knee high boots and gauntlets, all of gleaming white, gold, and orange. The jewel that Mose had prized from the idol was embedded in the skin of her hip as if it had grown there, visible through a circular cutout in her form fitting garments. 

    The mysterious being opened her slightly luminous, almond shaped eyes and scrunched up her nose in disgust as she looked past Mose at the unseen thing that held him dangling over the black water. Her gauntleted hand hovered for a moment over the gem at her hip and a sharpened brass quoit with a white hot edge appeared beneath her palm, keening as it spun into a blur and then flew with a flick of her wrist. The beast bellowed in pain as the hapless rogue felt its tendril go slack around his ankles, and he landed with a splash. Then all was swirling turmoil and flashes of yellow and the stench of ichor billowing thru the fetid water as he flailed and wallowed in blind panic. He felt something large and foul slither beneath him and vanish, and then quiet reigned once more. 

    He was pulled spluttering and coughing to the surface by a firm hand and set in the lap of the idol, where he sat blinking at the golden girl who stood regarding him with equal measures of wry condescension and cheerful bravado. She gave a jaunty wave of her slender hand. "Hello there. I'm Topaz. Thanks a lot for getting me loose, Mister…" 

    Her voice trailed off with a questioning note. He stuttered out his name through chattering teeth as the receding adrenaline rush left him wan and shaky. Topaz gave him a brash nod. "Well, Muh-muh-muh-mose, how about you and I see about getting out of this dump. After a thousand years stuck in the Toadlord's tiara, I could sure use a change of scenery." 

    With that she strode off into the gloom. He stumbled after her, still dumbfounded by what had transpired. His heart sank as he realized that when… and if… he was reunited with his cronies he wouldn't be able to keep mum about this part of the story, or pocket this particular bit of loot.

    Beyond this world there exists an interstellar empire, vast and ancient, ruled by an order of life that marks time by the passage of millennia. They are known by the more transient races they encounter as Living Gems, for their physical bodies greatly resemble the precious stones that adorn the crowns of kings, glitter in the dark in the eyes of lost idols, or rest fleetingly in the pouches of thieves and adventurers. Inherently magical, these crystalline beings are able to project bodies of solidified light with which they can interact with material objects and other creatures. 

    The Empire of the Gems is a rigidly stratified society that changes at a geological pace, with the oldest and most powerful being quite set in their ways and ruthless in their defense of the status quo. Yet still there are those who yearn to break free, who are capable of feeling curiosity or passion or love for one another and for other forms of life. These are generally the Living Gems that are encountered outside the dominion of their timeless, ossified empire, crusading on behalf of causes that inspire them or merely adventuring to see what the universe has to offer.

    The bodies projected by common Gems are generally short in stature, ranging from halfling size to average human height, with builds varying from slight to stocky depending on what social caste they originated from. (Although there have been reports of brutish warrior Gems serving in the armies of their Empire who are as large and imposing as ogres.) They are genderless and androgynous, but may tend toward more masculine or feminine aspect or behavior depending on their personality. They seem slightly unreal to mortal eyes, as if a figment of one's imagination is standing before you in the light of day. Their clothing, skin, and hair are always shades of the color of the gemstone that is their true form. This stone is usually large enough to fit in the cup of one's palm, and appears embedded somewhere on their manifested form, usually on the head or torso but any location is possible.

    In addition to a humanoid body, a properly trained Gem can manifest a weapon or a shield from their gemstone. This weapon reflects their personality and fighting style. They are also capable of casting spells appropriate to their level of skill.

    Gems sustain themselves on their own magical energy, and have no need to eat, drink, breathe, or sleep. Some Gems will still indulge in those activities anyway, having decided they find them pleasurable, but many view organic processes with mild to intense distaste. If a Gem's projected body suffers a sufficient amount of damage from accident or violence it will discorporate, leaving the inert gem behind until they can regenerate their form, a process that takes at least a day if not more. They are very vulnerable while inert, subject to theft and other misadventures. They can be prevented from reforming if they are confined in a small physical space or set into an object like a normal jewel. Certain spells will also prevent reformation. A Gem can be permanently killed if their stone is shattered.

   Perhaps the most remarkable ability these beings possess is a process they call Fusion, where two or more Gems will co-operate in projecting a body that is a combination of their personalities and skills that is greater than the sum of its parts. Within the Empire of the Gems, Fusion is viewed with distrust and contempt, a disruption of their carefully arranged hierarchy. It is a very intimate act, a mingling of multiple minds in perfect communion, and between Gems of compatible outlook and temperament it is viewed as a deeply empowering experience. The Fusion increases in height and mass with every participant, and appears as a combination of the features of all their components. Gems whose mentalities aren't in sync cannot maintain a Fusion for very long before breaking apart into their individual forms again.

 GEMS AS LABYRINTH LORD PLAYER CHARACTERS:

REQUIREMENT: Wis 9
Prime Requisites: Con and Wis
Hit Dice: D8
Maximum Level: 10

    Gems use the Elf tables for combat, level advancement, and saving throws. Their spell progression uses the Elf table as well.

    Their projected bodies are naturally Armor Class 8, while their actual gemstone body is Armor Class 3. Due to the fluid nature of their forms they prefer to forgo heavier armor but will carry shields if they cannot generate them themselves. They are immune to suffocation, starvation, and natural poisons, but are affected as normal by magic attacks of all kinds, including Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. They don't need to sleep, but can suffer from fatigue if operating at a high level of activity for long periods of time.

    If their Hit Points are reduced to 0, their physical forms vanish in a puff of smoke, leaving their gemstone behind. This has Hit Points equal to their level. If it is destroyed the Gem is permanently dead with no chance of Resurrection short of a Wish spell. If the gemstone remains undamaged and there is sufficient space around it the Gem will reform their body with full Hit Points in 1d4+1 days.

    A Gem can generate a weapon or shield of their choice from the gemstone at will. This is chosen at character creation and doesn't change. Upon reaching 3rd. level a +1 of magical enhancement is added, with an additional +1 at 6th. and 9th. levels. If separated from the Gem this manifested item will vanish. They can reform their weapon or shield the following round.

    A Gem's gemstone appears as an unusually large, richly colored stone of 1d10X100 gp value. If a Gem is set into an object, they are permanently trapped in gemstone form until pried loose. If a Gem is trapped in an object for long enough, generally a period of d100 years, the object will be subject to the rules for Sapient Swords.

    One or more Gems can enter into a Fusion, forming a composite being with Hit Dice equal to their combined levels, with commensurate improvement to their combat and spellcasting abilities and Hit Points totaling the sum of all participants' current hit points. The may manifest a weapon that is a combination of the component gems' chosen weapons or shields, with pluses added appropriate to their temporary level.

    Fusion is a very delicate and difficult state to maintain unless the Gems are very closely in sync with one another. If the components are of differing alignments they must each make a saving throw vs. Wands after the first round to stay fused. If player character Gems are in a Fusion, any time the players disagree on their course of action they must all roll a save vs. Wands as well. If any of the components fails their save the Fusion breaks apart. Gems in the same adventuring party can become accustomed to one another with trust and experience. With every Turn spent fused they gain a +1 to their saves to stay that way.

    Upon reaching 9th. Level, a Gem can opt to found a temple. There are ruined structures from the Empire of the Gems scattered across the universe as their influence ebbs and flows, ready to be cleared of monsters and occupied. Younger Gems (1st. Level) and other warriors seeking training and knowledge will begin to gather under the auspices of the mistress of the temple, which will become a center for magical and martial learning as time goes on. Unfortunately, sooner or later agents of the Gem's Empire may take an interest in their wayward subjects, which can make life quite interesting for its denizens and those under their protection.

 

This race/class is hereby designated as Open Game Content via the Open Game License. Images and original concept for the Gems are copyright © Cartoon Network and originally conceived by Rebecca Sugar. This article implies no claim on said copyright and is done without permission. 

Steven Universe is seriously a really awesome show that everybody should check out.  

New Labyrinth Lord Magic Item: The Impossipotions

These strange magical potions are always found in sets of three, and are reputed to have been originally created in the lost city of Ralay Hoa, which is said to be in the unexplored territory of the barbaric tribes of Hana.

They follow the standard rules for potion onset and duration, activating upon the round they are drunk and lasting for 1d6+6 turns. Only one of these potions may be drunk by an individual at a time. If mixed they will cancel one another out.

Potion of Liquidation: Upon imbibing this oily greenish fluid, the user becomes capable of transforming into a liquid state, which can flow through any opening that water can pass through. They can flow along at a rate of 60' (20'). If they choose to remain still, they are indistinguishable from a puddle of slightly greenish tinted water. While the potion is in effect, the user can switch between states at will, and gain a Save vs. Spell in combat to avoid being struck by weapons by spontaneously liquifying. All equipment worn or carried by the user upon drinking the brew will liquify along with them, but any objects picked up or acquired while it is in effect will not. While in liquid form, the user cannot lift or move anything but the lightest, most buoyant objects.

Potion of Coiling: This thick, purplish liquid brings on a strange transformation in the user's limbs when quaffed, causing them to shorten by about 5" and become like tightly coiled steel springs. While under the potion's effect, the user may make leaps of 20' high, or 50' distance, or may move at a rapid, springing gait of 240'(80') if unencumbered. They may also extend their arms out to 50', allowing them to attack distant foes with melee weapons or punches and kicks. The fully extended arm/leg span is 100'. The user may also choose to make a constriction attack, doing 1d8 per round if they manage to successfully grab a foe with both arms. (This requires two separate melee attacks.)

Potion of Multiplication: This murky, reddish tincture allows the drinker to will up to four duplicates of themselves into existence. These doubles act in concert, commanded by a single will. Each has 1/4 the hit points of the original. If slain in combat they vanish instantly. By some strange factor in the potion's magic, in a combat situation the original is always the last to take damage or fall, unless all are subject to an area effect. Any magical devices carried by the user won't be duplicated with enchantments, and will only function as mundane versions of whatever they are. Spellcasters who drink this potion do not gain additional spell uses, but the duplicates can cast different spells from the original's daily allotment. (i.e. A 2nd. lvl wizard with 2 1st. lvl. spells could have one duplicate cast one spell and another cast the other one, using up their memorized spells for the day in a single round)

New Labyrinth Lord Magic Item: The Bladeless Sword of Justice

Created by the Astrodukes of Fahr to stem the tide of evil, these magical weapons appear as the bronze hilt of a sword lacking a blade of any kind. If casually handled that is all it will seem to be, and it can be easily kept in a belt pouch or pocket.

When wielded with intent by a Lawful being, a blade of invisible force manifests that functions as a +2 magic weapon. Against Chaotic enemies, the blade is razor sharp and does 1d8+2 damage. Against Neutral foes, it becomes more like a blunt rod that does 1d6 damage. Against a Lawful opponent the blade will not manifest.

The length of this unseen blade is variable based on the desires of the wielder, and can be anywhere from dagger to pole arm length with no appreciable change in weight.

When the hilt is handled by a Chaotic being, there is a 20% that the blade will manifest itself, cutting or stabbing them for 1d8+2 damage.

In certain dens of evil where these weapons are known, it's possible to bluff those denizens of lesser intelligence, putting them to flight by brandishing a simple sword hilt bereft of its blade. Such is the fear that the Bladeless Sword engenders in the dire and darksome.

The Continuing Adventures of LL at Paul's

Just a quick shout out to a new blog chronicling the wacky hijinks in my buddy Paul's Labyrinth Lord campaign, which time and distance now precludes me from joining in on.

You can read all about it here, courtesy of ExitSanity. a.k.a. Bazil the Dancing Mage.

So check it out.

New Race/Class: Primusaurs

These civilized saurians hail from the vast, verdant valley of Gwangitopia, where they are ruled by the fearsome yet benevolent Megasaurus Rex from his mighty fortress atop the volcano known as Mount Krong.

Primusaur society is in many ways quite similar to that of ancient human cultures, and thus there are among them more adventurous souls who strike out to make their fortune as mercenaries and dungeon delvers, rather than spend their life on a capybara ranch or giant termite plantation.

REQUIREMENT: Con 9, Str 12
PRIME REQUISITES: Con & Str
Hit Dice: d12

ABILITIES:
Primusaurs can range between five to seven feet tall, and weigh between 250 to 500 pounds. They resemble small tyrannosaurs, but walk in an upright posture with their tails dragging behind them. Their forelimbs are small and weak, while their legs are large and powerfully muscled. They possess thumbs on all four limbs, using their arms for delicate tasks and their legs for lifting heavy weights, as long as they don't have to walk anywhere with their load.

They are capable of delivering a bite for 1d6 damage, or a kick with a hind leg for 1d8. This latter attack can only be made every other round, as they need to recover their balance in the intervening round. Primusaurs can wield one handed weapons, or use a spear one handed with a -1 to hit, but cannot use two handed swords, pole arms, or any kind of bow except crossbows, which due to being aimed one handed also suffer a -1 to hit.

Their skin is leathery, and ranges in color from yellow green to dark brown. It provides a natural Armor Class of 7. Primusaurs can wear any armor, and can use shields.

These creatures are possessed of an amazing ability to regrow lost extremities, even a severed head may be regrown thanks to a secondary brain situated above their hips that retains their memories.

It takes a Primusaur 30 days minus their Level to regrow limbs and tail, and 50 days to regrow a lost head. This ability is independent of their Hit Points, but can be accelerated by 10 days with a Cure Serious Wounds spell.

A Primusaur with a severed head is blind, deaf, cannot communicate, and cannot eat until their new head starts budding about ten days later. While this fast goes on, they cannot heal naturally, and they will be mindlessly ravenous when their new head grows back for 1d4 days. Most Primusaur adventurers set up a special code of taps and touches so they can recognize and be assisted by allies should they be rendered headless.

Veteran Primusaur warriors often have one or two of their own heads on display in their trophy alcove. Tarkasaur the Implacable, a near legendary figure among his people, was said to possess seven of these grisly trophies, kept in a place of honor among the heads of a multitude of other foes.

Primusaurs are exothermic, and if they are exposed to cold conditions (below 50º Farenheit), they move as if they are under one higher level of encumbrance. If they are at maximum encumbrance, they go torpid and are unable to move.

Their eyes change color to reflect their mood, with red indicating anger, yellow fear, green a neutral mood, and blue indicating satisfaction or serenity. They cannot control this color change, and thus suffer +2 to reaction checks if they are attempting to lie or deceive. They possess infravision out to 60'.

Males possess a small, blunt horn on the tip of their nose, and females tend to be smaller and lighter in build. Primusaurs lay eggs to reproduce, and these eggs can be kept dormant in cold storage for up to 20 years. Their diet is omnivorous, but they favor meat and insects.

Primusaur culture is at once barbarous and refined. They adorn themselves in richly colored cloaks and harnesses and torques of gold and copper, and collect the severed heads and skulls of their foes as trophies. (They consider it a point of honor to retrieve their own lost heads or limbs, which they keep to be placed their funeral pyre upon their death.)

They are capable of terrible outbursts of extreme violence, but are known to wax lyrical at scenes of natural beauty, and are earnest patrons of music, song, and poetry. They duel to the point of dismemberment over matters of honor, but are gentle, loyal, and caring to those they consider their friends.

Primusaurs are mortal enemies of the troglodytes, and consider it their duty to slay them. They are ambivalent toward lizard folk, and can get along if the marsh dwelling reptile men are highly enough evolved to make treaties and honor bargains. Savage lizard folk are generally avoided if possible, or slain if not.

Primusaurs possess parrot like vocal chords that allow them to speak Common with a thick accent. Their own language sounds like a collection of grunts, rumbles, and roars, and a lot of the phonemes are subsonic. They can speak the language of troglodytes and lizard folk, and those with intelligence over 14 may speak Draconic.

Upon reaching 9th. level, a Primusaur may seek a grant from their ruler to establish a fortress, preferably in a lush jungle valley or atop an active volcano, which he will rule as a Dinolord. This community will attract other Primusaur warriors and their clans to come live under its skull festooned banner. Primusaurs favor large caves and ancient lava tunnels for their lairs, with creche rooms for their eggs in the deepest, warmest parts of the complex.

Primusaurs use the dwarf tables for combat, level advancement, and saving throws.

This class is hereby designated as Open Game Content via the Open Game License.

An Experiment in AWESOME!

Truly, this was awesome sauce!

Well, anybody who's been lurking about the Old School Blog scene has probably heard of the interesting potential of using Google+ for online gaming, so a small group of my rowdy friends from our former Thursday Night group of yore got together over the aether to play for a completely groovy several hours this Sunday afternoon. Our GM was the redoubtable Paul, whom I've missed gaming with, and our lineup included the mighty Delta, Mr. H, and Mr. K, for whom I'll say ditto.

The group was composed of myself playing a dextrous yet dim thief by the name of Billy the Weasel, with a magic user named Mercurious, a heavily armored dwarf named Garick, and a less heavily armored dwarf who favored pike and crossbow known as Ulric Battleborn.

We'd heard tell of an old ruined watchtower outside of town that was reputed to have a fabulous treasure buried in a deep sub-basement below it. No one who'd gone there had come back alive, but the lure of loot is an irresistible call to a bunch such as us, so up the hill we went.

Next to the crumbling tower was a huge old oak tree, so we decided to check it out. We found a hole in the side that indeed led to a set of stairs that lead down into a hidden chamber. After sending Ulric down to scout with a rope tied about his waist, the rest of us followed, with Garick being forced to remove his armor and wriggle thru the hole before re-girding himself on the other side.

The underground chamber was musty and full of fungus. Most notably, there was a ring of large mushrooms, several of which bore odd brass sculptures of gnomes atop their caps. Not wanting to touch something that was potentially a ring of magickal faerie planted Claymore mines, we searched the room, and found a kobold cowering in a closet.

Thankfully, our doughty dwarf friends spoke fluent Chihuahua, and so we interrogated the little twerp, who's name was Blark. Seems he was posted there to watch the gnome statues. A small tribe of kobolds very much wanted to steal them and sell them to a nearby tribe of orcs, but whenever they did the statues would uncannily vanish and reappear on their mushroom by the following morning. Thus the orcs were ready to go all "caveat venditor" on them and the little creeps were trying to figure out what was going on.

We bought Blark's services for a silver piece, and we prevailed upon him to grab a statue and put it in Billy's bag. After that, he led us deeper into the underground cellar to the room where the rest of his tribe was hanging out, sketching Wile E Coyote type plans on the wall for retrieving the gnome statues.

We decided amongst ourselves to try to con the kobolds, so we started lying like cheap rugs, telling them that we'd figured out the secret of taking the statues without them vanishing, and would trade said secret for either money (which they had little of beyond some copper pieces) or information. Since copper is more suited to settling bar tabs or weighing down doilies, we went for info, grilling them about the orc tribe and also about what might lie down a door and an archway we passed on the way to the kobold's brass gnome theft workshop.

They informed us that down one entry was giant spiders, and down the other was huge, kobold eating bats. Regarding the orcs they told us that the savage goons would trade stolen cattle for the gnome statues, and that if we shouted "bree yark" they wouldn't attack us.

This latter bit was total bullcrap, so we didn't feel so bad (as if we'd felt any guilt before hand) about telling them that the secret to keeping the statues was to go into the woods outside of town and gathering some three leaved shrubs with white berries and eating a big handful of them, then waiting a day and eating some more. They sent four of their number off questing for the "magic herb" and we secured the services of Blark and another kobold named Glurk as guides for the price of another silver piece.

After parting company with the kobolds in the midst of an argument between Blark and his chief over whether he was allowed to cut subcontracting deals independent of the kobolds' HR dept, we made our way down the entry that they'd informed us had giant bats.

Sure enough, they were right about those. We found a large, guano carpeted chamber and our two little native guides were snatched up and gnawed by about a half dozen gigantic chiroptera while a multitude of their smaller bretheren fluttered about the ceiling.

A furious battle ensued, with Garick holding strong in the door while the rest of us fired crossbows, spears, daggers, and a Magic Missile into the space. Eventually, we killed all the big bats with our heavy duty dwarf taking a few slashes to the face. We retrieved the splattered kobold's daggers for Mercurio to throw and checked out the space.

There were two archways and a small door leading out of the chamber. To the West we found a sloping corridor with a big pool of dried blood that flowed down a nearby set of stairs leading down. At the far end of that corridor, we found a pair of sinister looking black gargoyle statues with upraised palms, before which were two putrid piles of severed hands.

Wanting no part of this, we went back and checked the other archway, which led to a platform that branched south to a hallway and a set of spiral stairs that went both down and up, and north to a large room that seemed to be a ruined library. In this room there was an unidentifiable rhinoceros sized carcass that was buzzing with flies, including several specimens that were gigantic and which swarmed out at us as soon as they sensed our torches.

We battled three giant, biting flies. They were biting so hard that we decided to have Mercurio cast his Sleep spell and put them out of our misery. We coup de graced the buzzing monsters and scampered away from the grody library space before more of them could sense us and attack.

We took the stairs down, and found an area totally choked with huge, sticky spiderwebs. We tossed some oil and lit them, which released a couple of ogres that were bound up in cocoons of webbing. They charged us, so in a panic Billy threw the brass gnome that we'd pinched from the mushroom room, nailing the big goon right in the face. (HAH!)

Still, this was pretty strong meat for us to face with our resources depleted (we'd taken some bad bites from the giant flies, and Mercurio was tapped out on spells.) so we decided to beat feet before we got pummeled to death. We turned and ran, dumping oil and tossing MY lantern down the spiral stairs to discourage pursuit. We made it out of the catacombs relatively unscathed, and headed back to town to regroup and re-equip ourselves.

We headed for the tavern to brag about going to the tower and coming back alive. While we were there, we decided to hire some extra hands. Mercurio decided that cheaper than hiring henchmen, he could use Charm Person to make some fast friends who'd help us out of the bonds of ersatz cameraderie.

He found a couple of likely suckers... er... subjects in a big burly bloke arm-wrestling with a big fat guy. He put down a silver on the fat guy and lost, when the big guy, who styled himself Govannan the Boar Killer, won the contest and sealed his fate. Drawing him aside with a tale of having treasure to guard and being willing to hire him, Mercurio led Govannan to the stables and cast his spell, emerging with a new bestest buddy in the world who'd be happy to join us for free, no questions asked (at least until about a week or so passed and he got a save).

After three days of taking it easy and buying new supplies and gear to replace what we'd lost, we headed back to the tower, this time deciding to take the entrance to the tower itself rather than try to squeeze thru the hole in the tree which required our heavy weapons guy Garick to disarmor himself.

We worked our way downward, and found a room flooded to the ankles in honey that seemed to be dripping from the ceiling, which in combination with the sound of loud, angry buzzing from a nearby room seemed to imply that there was a hive of giant bees about someplace. We made our way across the deliciously decorated space and found a room beyond where a bunch of honey covered boots had been set aside, presumably by the orcs we knew were somewhere down below. After a bit of debate, we decided to make like the inhabitants of the place and remove our shoes as well.

We passed a room with a ceiling bulging down from above as if it was ready to collapse, where we spotted a glinting bit of silver jewelry in one corner. After some deliberation, we were about to press on, but Billy's Int of 5 proved too difficult to resist and I had him army crawl his way across the floor toward the bracelet.

I guess my dim witted rogue wasn't as low to the ground as he needed to be, because he bumped the semi-caved in timbers and caused a section of ceiling to collapse on me, doing me a fair bit of damage and pinning me to the floor. Ulric took pity on me and slung a loop of rope out on his 10' pole, snagging my ankle and allowing the party to drag my sorry carcass out from under the collapsed beam, doing me a fair bit more damage but getting me out alive.

After I'd dusted myself off and took a swig from our handy jug of cleric in a bottle, we found a set of steep, kinda treacherous spiral stairs leading downward, with a knotted rope secured near the top to an iron ring. After the usual dungeon delver's paranoid searching for some kinda trap with the rope, we descended.

(Pardon if that section's inaccurate or vague, it was around this time I needed to go downstairs in my awesome lair to make a bit of dinner for myself, so my guy was running on hench mode.)

Sadly, the steps were a bit tricky for Garick's stubby legs, and he slipped and went rolling down the stairs like a pachinko ball to crash in a heap at a door at the bottom. The rest of us joined him at the bottom and set him back on his feet, and he proceeded to check the door for traps and give it a listen.

He heard the sound of heavy breathing on the other side, so we decided to kick in the door and go in swinging. We found a bunch of orcs laying in ambush on the other side, doubtless alerted to our presence by all the racket we'd been making on the upper floors, punctuated by a hurtling dwarf in armor colliding with their front door.

As we battled them, a bunch of other doors down the hallway flew open and more orcs came rushing out. While Garick and Billy fought the ones in the first room and Ulric and Govannan held the others off, Mercurious cast his sleep spell, which put all but one of the orcs and a couple party members down for a little nap. The lone remaining orc turned tail and ran off, while we set about putting his buddies out of everybody's misery permanent like.

We searched the room and found a chest of gold, and then decided to knock off for the night and send the characters back to town.

All told, this worked really well, and I'm enthusiastic about future excursions in cyberspatial gaming. I need to get a better way to map. I was pingponging between this online whiteboard thing that Paul pointed us to and Adobe Illustrator. I think next time I'm just gonna go with good old fashioned graph paper and just hold it up to the camera if folks need to see it.

Otherwise, this was awesome! Thanks guys, both to Paul for running, and to the others for making it a great session. We gotta do this again!

Here's Paul's account, btw ftw.

And here's another take from the fabulous Delta!

New Labyrinth Lord (Cursed) Magic Item: The Red Gauntlets of Argack

Once there was a vile warlock who whilst skilled in the dark craft was known for not thinking things entirely through.

Said sorceror, who styled himself Argack the Maledictator, fell afoul of the doughty Handsman known as Pugnacious Phil Potluck, and many of his sinister schemes ended ignobly, beneath the pummeling fists and clog stepping hobnails of the brawny adventurer.

Running out of both patience and teeth, the doer of dire deeds crafted a magical set of gauntlets designed to engulf the heroic brawler's very life in ruin, madness, and misery.

The Red Gauntlets of Argack at first blush could be mistaken for Gauntlets of Ogre Power. Once donned, the wearer is compelled to start punching things. Friends, foes, furniture, foodstuffs, farm animals, all find themselves faced by a frenzy of furious fists. The unfortunate wearer of the gauntlets is fully aware and rational, but can not... stop... punching... things.

They will continue to punch until they are slain, fall unconscious from exhaustion, or are restrained. If the victim is bound, the cursed gloves will compel them to try to break free, bestowing an effective Strength bonus of +3.

Some tellers of tales state that Pugnacious Phil escaped from the Gauntlets by directing their fury at himself, allowing his comrades precious time to remove and discard the accursed handwear. (And gaining the dubious distinction among those of his calling as the only Handsman who had ever beaten himself up.)

A Remove Curse spell is the only way to otherwise get the Gauntlets off of their hapless wearer.

The Gauntlets do 1d4 points of damage + the wearer's Strength Bonus, and attack twice in a round.

The villainous Argack's greatest, and final, mistake was remaining in the same room to gloat after inflicting the accursed Gauntlets on his hated enemy.

His perfectly flattened skull is on display in the museum of curios in Castle Rygar.

These magic items are hereby designated as Open Game Content via the Open Game License.