The comedy word play was fun but conflicted a bit with the seriously deranged necromancer. Hard to balance those two while I read it, then with the lighthearted comments by the necro about being peeled...it just seemed a little too contradictory. The description of the home with the bones and skin and such would be more at home in another specifically macabre post rather than this I think. Overall though, I thoroughly enjoyed the fun aspect of it all. Go to Comment
And in years to come, when peril came again to the village, the villagers remembered the valor of the heroes as they defeated the necrospuds. "For the Taters!" they would later yell as they charged into battle. Go to Comment
The inanimate body of a Burlap Golem, rent nearly in two, is used as a combination of sleeping bag and mattress. A bubbling jar of what looks like noses with tiny muscled feet bodes ominously beside it. Occasionally, a bubble stirs the slick green fluid and one of the noses jumps away in fright.Go to Comment
As I am already notorious among my friends for the appalling accents I affect when gaming (To secretly punish me, they have gone so far as to interrogate every member of a small village of dwarves with Swedish accents, just to watch me squirm), I'm not sure whether this would be "right up my alley" or "too much of a good thing".
There's only the one necromancer, so I think it's safe... Go to Comment
Upon reflection, further information about the motivations and goals of the deranged Veggimancer might be helpful. What is it that drove him to such vile deeds of spud stealing? Did the villagers, suspecting his sinister schemes, refuse to sell their vegetables to the man?
On a separate note, what led Seamus to paper his hovel with human flesh? Was the cracked and weathered tree inordinately drafty, were the local paperhagers exceptionally expensive, or was it (as we suspected) merely a "style thing"? I suspect that the man was one of those rabid "do it yourself" types, determined that he was going to save money by doing the job alone (with only a few undead vegetables to help him).
If his decor was actually meant to impress others with his outrageous "Necromanticness", perhaps there are other necromancers out there, equally sinister and vile (and with even more outrageous accents!). These twisted souls may come calling after his defeat, seeking the rare home decorating secrets of Seamus Rhine. Go to Comment
I had taken the gruesome details as suggestions that the villain wasn't just another necromancer, he was a "necromancer's necromancer", with trade journals lying around the place (bound in human skin and inked in bat's blood), skull-shaped torch holders and lava lamps, and maybe even a portrait of Elizabeth Bathory done on black velvet (signed "With Love and Kisses, Liz"). Go to Comment
In a crowded marketplace, a man is standing on a soapbox, orating. Some of the crowd are cheering, some hissing, some standing around saying "I can't hear a bl**dy word he's saying". It's a hustings for an election. The PCs can either leave, or stay and listen. If they do the latter, then they can vote too, and they might get quite involved in the cheering. Depending on who wins they might get quite involved in the post-election brawl too...
There are numerous possibilities with this encounter: the PCs might end up talking to one of the nervous candidates before their speech, and offer encouragement and support. Of course this candidate may well turn out to be someone with outspokenly unorthodox views, and the crowd don't take kindly to s/his supporters. Or maybe the seemingly innocuous candidate turns out to be a complete racist, and the PCs wander off embarrassedly, pretending they weren't talking to this person five minutes ago.