The Daughters of the Slug revered, and ultimately digested, an antiquated entity, a primordial being once known as Gbod, also written G'bod, in the languages of the southern continent.

Gbod's physical form, like those of other Elder beings, was one of obscene incompletion and ectopic instability.

A shell-less slug, a grotesque mucous of questionable composition, Gbod oozed and slithered across the world when the world was still young, and the races of man were only beginning to acquire their myriad wisdoms.

And so emerged Gbod the Slug, child of Shaking Shang and Woqo the Eternal, brother of Spider-Count-The-Days. In Kuqsh was buried the afterbirth, in Elemba the navel cord, frayed and spewing.

Gbod was an ambivalent, if not outright oblivious being. Like all of Chaos Children, Gbod wished other beings to serve him, though it did not comprehend why it felt this way. Gbod could not be bothered with dogma, nor the demands and rituals of his worshippers, but he did delight in having more and more converts of the two legged kind in his fold. Even Gbod with his primitive god-brain, could comprehend that more was better.

Legends proclaim that during one particular, excruciatingly slow sojourn across the continent, Gbod came upon twin human sisters, who were engaging in dubious and unmentionable sorcery. The sisters looked upon the seeping ooze, and petitioned Gbod to allow them a taste of his supple, oily flesh, thus allowing the sisters to partake in some measure of his mysterious essence, in order to further fuel their eldritch sorceries.

Gbod, intrigued by the attention, spirals of blubber tingling with sensation, acquiesced and allowed the sisters to taste of his gelatinous flesh, assured in his own alien mind that in so doing they wished to revere him.

The sisters, unbeknownst to senseless Gbod, had known the divine beast was sojourning that day, and knew further that he would slither across the very spot where the sisters were conspiring to ensnare the Great Slug. And in so knowing they were able to enact their insidious plan as soon as the lumbering slitherer approached them. For no sooner had Gbod come, than the sisters had cast their spells and retrieved the salt-encrusted blade, Sgoloch, given them by Gbods brother, Spider-Count-The-Days, who wished naught but ill toward his brother, and entrapped Great Gbod with their sorceries.

And having entrapped the giant slug with magic, they began to feast on its quivering, jellied flesh, and imbibing its essence, and partaking of its godhood, and whenever Gbod shuddered and attempted escape, one of the sisters would plunge Sgoloch into Gbods shivering mass, and weakened from the blades power, Gbod would resign himself once more to being eaten alive, as he writhed, drying and bubbling in the hot sun.

And when the sisters were finally sated, nothing remained of Gbod but a viscous glob of a fetid eye, a shield-sized oval of slime, pus, and bile.

But the sisters acquired more of Gbod than they ever dreamed possible. As the sisters had expected, their own arcane powers were now magnified five fold, and their lives extended a hundred, hundred years. But what they had not anticipated was that Gbods essence included inherent madness, as the Giant Slugs unfathomable thoughts invaded the minds of the mages, and shredded the sisters mortal brains. The physical form of the sisters changed as well. The fabrics of Natural Law frayed and unraveled, unable to support so much god flesh, the flesh of Chaos. And so the sisters devolved into humanoid mollusks, and many years later, devolved further, into quivering, slugs, able to rise from their bellies vertically, but slugs nonetheless. And the irony was not lost on them, that now despite their great knowledge and mental power, their new forms forbid them spell use, for they now had neither mouths to speak spells, nor limbs to direct the magical weaves. Only a few sorceries were still available them, and even those, over the centuries, expired from the sisters' ravaged minds.

Daughters of the Slug

In Marrow Fens and Bogs of Schess, twin sisters dwell
Born in Hell, weened on the Giant Slugs largesse
The Puddle-God, Gbod, The Beast
Gbod, Gbod, take back your feast!

The Fetid Eye, the Pool of Piss
Twin sisters asked, but for a kiss
They ate the heart, and chewed the liver
Gbod, Gbod, the great Flesh-Giver!

The Daughters today are snail-fleshed and ever-drying, nearly amorphous, vaguely humanoid blobs of slug membrane. Unlike Gbod, the sisters do have shells, stolen from giant snails the sisters had slain, great works of horn and spiraling, madness-inducing, patterns.

Perhaps these were a nod to vanity, perhaps they were merely ingenuities, as the sisters do avoid physical combat even if pressed, and tend to withdraw their jelly-like mass completely into the casing of their respective shells at the slightest hint of danger, being that their jelly bodies are so easily damaged, burned or desiccated.

Countless, tiny, hair-like follicles, line the undersides of their bloated forms. These hairs are extremely sensitive to any temperature change and are used by the Daughters of the Slug to detect intruders in their personal realm of muck and mire. Like grotesque meer-cats of the savannah, they stand vigil, exposing these hairs to the breeze, after contorting their quivering bodies vertically.

Only the fare, blue-eyed, faces of the sisters remain intact on their otherwise grotesque slug bodies. Their two-dimensional visages are unattached to any organ, and slide along and beneath the surface of the mollusk skin, in a most unsettling manner, appearing and disappearing at random points of their oval shaped forms. Small, wine-red antennae extend from one end of their bodies. A radula, a three-foot long, coarsely bristled tongue, telescopes out of the other end, much like that of a bullfrog. If touched against bare flesh, the tongue causes a severe lethargy in most humanoids.

The flesh of the Slugs Daughters is caustic and highly acidic to the touch. Although the sisters, once proud sorcerers, can no longer cast spells, they can mentally induce a flux distortion, or torsion, in any opponent. This heinous ability, causes all the internal organs of any one chosen target to rotate one hundred eighty degrees, once violently, often rupturing and killing the intended victim.

Lastly, merely being within twenty feet of a Daughter of the Slug, for any amount of time, causes a peculiar form of dementia to set in in any mammalian creature capable of thought. Likewise, to look upon the near-liquid, two-dimensional, human faces of the Daughters, would cause mental instability as well, and eventually, sheer lunacy.

To this day, the Daughters of the Slug survive amidst the muck and mire of a vast, nameless swamp. They congregate around the Fetid Eye, all that is left of Gbod the Giant Slug, a disgusting, oval cenote of unimaginable filth, in the cold, moist soil of the trackless bog, with its "feelers", black, bristly, tentacles, appearing as abominable eyelashes, from the surface of the fetid pool.

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One of the few treasures the Daughters of the Slug possess, is a weapon of antiquity, buried in their loathsome swamp, the ancient blade, Sgoloch, or Thirst, a formidable, corroding, salt-encrusted, great-sword of iron. In appearance, the blade looks as if it was buried beneath the sea for many years, rusted and decayed, only missing barnacles to complete the visual, as if one strike against a sturdy shield would crack the sword into a half-dozen, shards. Strangest of all are the calcified salt crusts, which stick to the discolored metal in small clumps along the blade.

The half-god smith, Vuggor, and his patron, Quool the Terrible, Lord of the Seas, forged Sgoloch, in an icy sea-cave, along the shores of Glaciers Rest. The original purpose of the swords manufacture, was to rid the known worlds of the Chaos Children, the Discordant Dynasty, infernal and abysmal beings, the Many Mistakes of the Divine Brethren, primeval monstrosities of the Infinite Soup, and their abominable offspring.

The sword was first given to the barbarian hero, Sludd, who used it in battles against the Invisible Giant and Chabaea the Glutton, slaying both adversaries unequivocally.

Once Sludds mind slipped into irrevocable madness, from years spent combating the Children of Chaos, the swords account is lost. Many years later it reappeared suddenly in the possession of one, Nistrichsha the Unshaven, another legendary warrior of antiquity.

Nistrischsha lost or dropped the blade overboard, during a perilous crossing of the storm-wracked Pagan Straits, a treacherous body of water in the Gulf of Eagles, on his way to slay none other than Gbod the Giant Slug, and was never heard from again.

A century later, the Merman Prince, Vodaverisch, presented the crusted sword, as a gift to twin mortal sisters of surpassing beauty, the same twin sisters, who would later become the revolting Daughters of the Slug.

Sgoloch is what is known as a dying or dead magic item. The magicks infused within the iron, have ebbed from the blade, slowly but unerringly over the centuries, due to the demise of Vuggor and Quool the Terrible, its makers, old gods, no longer worshipped or revered in the Kingdoms of Man.

If found now, Sgoloch radiates only the faintest magicks, yet will function as weapon admirably, being much stronger, due to its remaining inherent sorceries, than the corrugated sword first appears to be. Though the equivalent of a masterwork weapon in the hands of a warrior, the salt-encrusted sword offers no other boon or puissant advantage to its wielder, other than the ability to damage creatures normally that are otherwise only affected by magical weapons.

Unless of course, Sgoloch tastes the flesh of a Chaos Child, then, the original and terrible powers of the sword would once more emerge. Powers such as a mortal can only imagine--alas--Chaos Children are all nearly dead or cast out from the Worlds of Man. The ancient monstrosities are ever so rare these days, perhaps extinct. Even knowledge of these elder beasts, is now found only in the dustiest libraries and tombs. Gods of Reason now rule the day, thankfully.

For the curious, if the flesh of a Chaos Child were indeed struck by Sgoloch, the corrugated sword would in fact regain its full powers.


Desiccation. If struck to flesh, Sgoloch would drain the target of its moisture, often slaying men in single strokes. Larger creatures were usually desiccated in several or more strokes. Constructs and such beings were unaffected by this dread ability.

The blade was able to penetrate stone as if it did not exist, but in no way damage the rock, merely pass through as a ghostly appendage.

{Supposedly, the blade had this peculiar ability given to it by Vuggor and Quool for the sole purpose of helping Sludd, the blades original owner, pierce the Hearts-Within-Stone, the phylacteries of the Invisible Giant and Chabaea the Glutton}

The wielder of the salt-encrusted sword was able to breathe in water and swim without tiring. It was rumored it even allowed the wielder to survive the dark depths of seas and oceans, perhaps even allowing the blades owner to enter the benthic, Fumerole Domain of Quool the Terrible, a god now dead.

A serious drawback to wielding Sgoloch was that for every day that passed, the wielder would age ten days, unknowing and unaware.

"Activating" Sgoloch

If a PC claims Sgoloch during Booty Roll Call, said PC may understandably be upset, once awareness sets in that the blade is a quite ordinary magical sword, without any actual powers. The same PC may of course scour the libraries, and pay-off dubious sages, and eventually find out that if some antediluvian monstrosity or another is slain with Sgoloch, the blade would once more become a relic of great potency.

Of course, the PC or PCs in question may then start doing research on unnamable, unmentionable, and unconscionable abominations of past ages. Let them. Maybe they will find further rumors and mentions of a Chaos Child still existing somewhere, slumbering, slithering, or undulating in some tomb, jungle, or sea.

If and when the PCs ever find whichever appropriate rarer-than-rare monstrosity your world calls for in this instance, by the time this conclusion is to come about, and by the time the heroes are indeed up to the challenge of slaying an elder being, then by gosh, some PC or another will be deserving of an epic blade!

If the Dervish-Sages of Suudrac are to be believed, Shuus the Malignant Proboscis, Eater of Ennui, is out there somewhere, gyrating to the reverbs of the Twin Moons.