While technically alive, magnagogs have little in the way of personality and are driven via telepathic command.
The Qualm is a giant mass of tentacles and leaves with hundreds of mouth-like pods lined with teeth. It is about 1/8 of the size of Earth's moon, and it travels through space looking for nutrient rich planets that it can suck dry.
Most folk would call an argillomatus a clay golem. They would be wrong.
Seven things I've learned about NPCs
A dangerous, alien plane where glowing frog-slimes slither and slurp, metal-skinned bird people rebuff diplomacy, and only the endless subterranean tunnels are safe (just mind the gravity-bending moles). Visitors will have to skulk around in the dark to avoid the curse carried by the sunlight. Because (have I mentioned?) the sun is the source of a powerful curse--one that covers the whole planet.
The teeth and fingerbones of holy men and more
"Living in a town that sits on a dimensional nexus can wear thin after a while. It's not so much the crawling shadows, bizarre weather, or late night visitors from places that never existed; but carrying on with your normal life and trying to act like nothing out of the ordinary is going on in your little corner of the world that gets to you."
A small rural town with surreal secrets, that happens to be situated on a dimensional crossroads, suitable for modern day supernatural/mystical/horror campaigns.
A family of semi-retired doomsday cultists, just trying to live a quiet life while tending an apple orchard in the country. Except with complications.
From Innsmouth to Cthulhutech, a common phrase is “non-Euclidean architecture”. But what is it, and how can it be included in your games in a way that is interesting and fun?
Everyone dies. But delaying that impending sentence is the holy grail. Science, scorcery, and wishful thinking do all in their power to bestow such delays. Be your deeds pure or evil, cheating death is neither easy nor reliable.
Everyone knows that firearms are weapons only fit for orcs—smelly, loud, and unreliable. But there are guns made for ogres, too, and the largest of those are called Thunderguns.
snagged from a tweet, what are seven things you've learned about writing in general, writing for gaming and gamers, or for the citadel?
"Don't just laze about! Help with the seating arrangement! The guests will be here any minute, and the king said everything must be perfect tonight or heads will roll! Now remember, the King must sit at the head of the table with her majesty at his side. Lord and Lady Pemberton must sit next to each other but not next to either the Knight-Commander Gren or his wife.. The Priest Lenard mustn't sit next to any of the attractive Ladies, and the Matriarch will certainly cause a ruckus if not placed in a respectable seat, but don't put her near the wine fountain either. Also, the Ladies...."
Mondaloa is a name shared by both a city and a deity. Mondaloa, the city, is built on layers of crypts and tombs that are far more opulent and majestic than the city that covers them. Mondaloa, the deity, is the god of rest, peace, and death. There is nothing Mondaloa desires more than to see the dead buried deep in their tombs where they can rest in honor and peace. But there is trouble: something is torturing the dead of the city, and driving them to madness and rage. Now, 500 years of honored ancestors are trickling into the city above, seeking blood and pain and death.
A big flock can suck a cow bloodless in a few minutes, yet your doctor shows up carrying one around a small birdcage in the tip of his staff. Maybe you're better off just learning to live with the kidney stones. . .
Lady Evica is one of the prides of the Hesayan Church--it shows that even monstrous, overtly sexual, colossal mermaids can be brought to worship in Iasu's light. Except not really.
One of the strangest weapons deployed by Z'pl'rt the Mad
Few things shine as bright as the jewels of Hell
The faded, yet oddly pristine robes of an ancient healer, this cloth radiates a palpable sense of comfort, of wholeness.
Sometimes life as you know it has to nearly end for you to find your true calling. By "end" I mean the everything you knew, loved, and held dear ripped away, your life torn down to the bloody roots and dragged over broken glass until the future yawns like a great big empty pit that threatens to swallow you whole type of ending.
The new you, the one that's left after such a sundering, is someone the old you would probably put a bullet in the brain pan of out of sheer mercy. Problem is, the old you is no longer around, and the new you likely doesn't have anyone left that cares enough to administer that hollow point piece of mercy.
An ex-cop vigilante, suitable for modern day supernatural horror settings.
In the harbour of a major city a large and terrifying ship made of human nails docks. Nobody seems to inhabit this ominous vessel, someone needs to go on board and unveil the mystery. In comes the PCs.