This bespeaks a bit of Final Destination where death itself causes random almost innocent events of chance that cause the most horrific ends. Wonderful item. A tad bit interesting and flavorful. To bad it usually ends up in death, I would make it not so detrimental unless kept for a very long time. Perhaps the random accidents get increasingly worse the longer the item is used. All in all though I liked it.
Go to CommentI agree with Mourngrymn.
As for its detrimental effect for PCs, I have a couple suggestions directly tied to the blade:
1.The blade simply refuses to be unsheathed at a rather inopportune time.
2. If the PC is falling or tumbling, the blade unsheaths with obvious effects.
3. If the PC is sneaking successfully, the cane gets dropped - loudly.
I don't think a misfortune field about the wielder fits with the idea of the item.
Go to CommentAn interesting change perhaps the magic of the cane faded over time and now the accidents are not always fatal; making this an interesting acquisition for a PC to get their hands on, especially if they're recovering from an injury or want a sword cane to slip past the guards into the palace or thieves guild.
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Not as chilling as Romero Coultier was, but more thought was given to how to implement her in a game.
Well done. Don't be too surprised if a CRTF Summary includes her eventually.
valadaar has pretty much hit the nail right through the leaf. (The Goon Show anyone?)
Very well written, versatile NPC for the DM to make use of.
5/5
Well done!
This would fit so well into a Dresden Files game -- modern, yet mystical with more than a little tragedy to spice things up. She's a beautifully designed NPC, well worthy of the 5/5.
Locations (City) (Other)
Sometimes, after a particularly heavy spring thunderstorm, you might come across big, white bulbs in the soil. They're like mushrooms, except not as spongy as your average mushroom. Anyway, these white domes grow until they are ovals about a foot long. A few more days, and the things look like helmeted heads, buried in the ground up to their noses. If you actually put your face down there for a good look, you can see that they are helmeted heads, with ears and sunglasses and everything. After a couple of more days, the bicyclist will wake up, pull himself out of the dirt, and start walking around.
Brian Cooper says that he dug one up before it was done growing, but whatever it looked like scared him so bad that he's not talking.
Bicyclists look like people, except they're really skinny and they haven't got a butt. Like, at all. Their entire body is covered in black, foamy skin that looks like the stuff that real bicyclists wear. And I'm pretty sure that the helmet and sunglasses are actually part of their head (I've never seen under their glasses, or seen them remove any of their gear).
After they pull themselves out of the ground, they usually go into a corner and make a bicycle. I'm not sure how they do it, but Alana McBride told me that they make it from their spit, and shape it like a spider weaving a web. But she was finishing a bottle of scotch, so she might have just been pulling my leg.
The tend to bike around town furiously for a couple of weeks. I talked to one soon after he was 'born', and the bicyclist was only interested in learning which roads he could take in order to map a perfect rhombus. I told him we didn't have any roads like that. Then he wanted to find a route he could ride that would take him on a perfect circle "about six or seven. . . no! eight miles in diameter!" I eventually just showed him a map, and he settled for a square route, but he didn't seem happy about it.
Bicyclists will pretty much always give you a ride somewhere if you ask. It might not be where you want to go, though, but I've ridden on their handlebars before to get to work. They bike really fast, too. I've seen one go 75 on the freeway before.
After biking around for a few weeks, though, they die. They just keel over while biking. Usually Silver River Trash Removal picks them up, but if they fall in a ditch someone's got to get them out of there. Once, I guess one died while it was biking, and flew right under Betsy Burnam's porch. I helped get the body out from under there. I guess it had hit pretty hard, because it had split open. On the inside, the bicyclist was filled with stuff that looked like chocolate cake, but smelled like vomit.
I still have the bike, though. I used to ride it to work until it started getting kinda crumbly. Go to Comment