OSR: 12 New Undead Creatures of Varying Power

It can be tricky to think of things for an Exorcist to combat. Here are 12 options. Happy Halloween!

Embodied Undead

Dead bodies animated by a spell or a soul, out of malice or sheer willpower. They can be fought like traditional undead. Destroying the body usually ends the undead's existence.

Ok, this is actually a tapeworm head, but still! Eugh!

0 HD (1 HP): Corpse Snake

Appearance: a rotting stake with three heads.
Wants: to bite the living. Warmth (cannot feel warmth, but still wants it).
Armor: none
Move: normal
Morale: 12
Damage: 1d6 bite, Save vs Constitution or +1d6 poison.

Created by amateur necromancers and desperate spies, or by a hibernaculum starving to death. Can fit in a pouch or bag. Slithers slowly but inexorably. Not much of a threat individually, but they always seem to swarm.

Encounter: a room boot-deep with murky water, and a few corpse snakes.
Encounter: a witch drops one down your chimney. Or puts one in your boot. Or puts one in the stew.

Duty Bound Dead, Johannes Voss

1 HD: Animated Servant

Appearance: a shambling corpse in makeup, with a fine uniform and tarnished buttons
Wants: to obey any command given to them. Not very smart.
Armour: as leather.
Move: normal
Morale: 10 (they sometimes forget they are dead and run away, but then forget why they are running).
Damage: 1d6 pummeling.

Toys made by amateur necromancers, or servants so utterly loyal that death is a minor impediment. Will scrub, polish, carry firewood, serve drinks, and hold torches without complaint. The merest spark of a soul inside, but enough to cause them to sneeze (without a nose) or itch a bit of bone. The little twitches of life.

Encounter: the Baron's old stable-hand died two days ago, but he crawled out of the grave and back to his station. The manor is abandoned. Something has to be done.
Encounter: a pressure plate activates a host of servants with torches, platters, and chairs, setting a table for a feast. The table has long since rotted away to fragments and part of the floor is gone too.

Prince of Persia concept art, source unknown

5 HD: War Spirit

Appearance: a heap of armour and weapons and torn flags shaped like a person. A helm with two burning red eyes.
Wants: to slaughter, to protect tombs and graveyards. Has a territory.
Armour: as plate
Move: normal
Morale: 12
Damage: see below.

A war spirit is created when the last survivor of a doomed unit of soldiers dies. Banners flow together to form a shroud. Swords fuse into misshapen spikes, rings of chain run like water. The war spirit is a hideous, howling thing, and its howl is the shriek of betrayal and iron on iron.

Attacks: Each round, the War Spirit can perform one of three attack patterns.

Swipe. The War Spirit charges forward, swinging its blade in front of it, sending sparks flying. Any targets in front of it must Save vs. Dexterity or take 1d6 damage and be knocked prone.

Roar. The War Spirit raises its head and roars. All creatures who can cover their ears must Save or take 1d6 damage. Anyone who can't automatically takes 1d6 damage. The first time this happens, PCs and hirelings must also make a Save vs. Fear or a Morale check.

Hammer. The War spirit moves towards a single enemy and swings down with a chopping blow, then swipes sideways. This is two normal attacks, each dealing 1d8+2 damage.

Encounter: an ancient abandoned battlefield with a few raised zombies. The PCs come across a thoroughly shredded necromancer, and then hear the rust-roar of the thing the necromancer accidentally angered.
Encounter: a deathtrap maze designed to produce War Spirits. Soldiers go in like grist to the mill. The mad artificers who built it are long dead, but the traps and their end product continue to function.

Xiximanter the Lich, Scrap Princess. From my Tomb of the Serpent Kings module.

10 HD: Xiximanter the Lich

Appearance: Xiximanter is an ancient snake-man wizard, twisted but immortal. He looks like a dried human corpse (with fangs) fused to a snake tail at the waist. He wears tattered robes. His eyes are red pinpricks.
Wants: to continue developing potions, to distill the life-essence of intelligent creatures (preferably wizards), to be left alone.
Armour: as plate+shield
Move: 1.5x normal
Morale: 12
Damage: see below.

Special: If he is in his lair, Xiximanter regenerates 3 HP per round. Xiximanter is immune to all non-magical damage, all mind-altering spells (charm, sleep, etc.), and all curses or persistent enchantments. Lightning, cold, and ice damage deals 1 damage to him instead of the usual amount.

Xiximanter isn't unreasonable, but he firmly believes the snake-man civilization is flourishing, despite evidence to the contrary. He will bargain with any visitors, warn them of minor dangers, and offer them potions to test. If they turn on him, he will fly into a towering rage. He will utterly annihilate one target as an example and try to force the rest of his enemies to flee.

On the first round of combat, or when combat is about to start, Xiximanter will rise to his full height. The lights will dim and his eyes will glow even more brightly than usual. Dark spirits will whisper around him, and his bones will glow with faint magical light. Instead of shuffling, he now moves like mercury. All creatures who see him draw on his full power must Save vs. Fear or flee. He will not attack fleeing creatures unless they have really annoyed him, or they are fleeing deeper into his lair.

Attacks. Xiximanter acts twice per Initiative round; the first time in the usual position, and the second time after all the other combatants have finished. He is an utterly deadly foe in a fair fight.

Heartstop. Xiximanter reaches out with a withered claw, as if holding something heavy and squirming. A single mortal target within line of sight must Save or be stunned for 1 round. If the target Saves there is no mechanical effect, but they are still affected by the spell. If Xiximanter uses this ability on the same target a second consecutive time, the target must Save or die.

Potion Splash. Xiximanter hurls a potion at a target within 30'. This requires a normal Attack roll with a -1 penalty for every 10' past the first. The potion is a random weaponized potion (so a potion of burrowing becomes a potion of melting through the floor, a potion healing becomes a potion of cancerous growths, a potion of raise dead becomes a potion of your skeleton bursts out from your skin and attacks your friends, etc. Not all effects will be Save or Die, must most of them will be Save or Suffer). The potions are weaponized by Xiximanter's hate; once he dies, they become normal potions (but the effects of any weaponized potions remain).

Slash. A normal melee attack dealing 1d6+2 damage.

Shadow Fade. Xiximanter disappears and reappears in any part of  his lair lit by the purple lamps. Any creatures adjacent to him when he reappears take 1d6 damage and must Save vs Fear. He loves appearing right behind people and whispering in their ear.

The following abilities can only be used once per day. These abilities are spells, and can be countered or learned.

Prismatic Lash. Xiximanter swipes his hand through the air, filling a 50' cone with beams of light. All creatures or objects in the area take 3d6 damage, Save for half. Creatures killed by this spell rise as Gibberlings (see below).

Rending Souls. A single target within 10' is grabbed by ethereal hands of smoke and ash. The target takes 2d6 damage. If 12 damage is rolled, or if the target drops to 0 HP, it is torn apart instead (no Save).

Poison Fog. Xiximanter breathes out a cloud of poison fog. It fills a 50'x50'x area. Inside the area, living creatures take 4d6 damage per round and must Save to see anything. The fog tastes awful and burns your mucus membranes. Xiximanter is immune to the fog and can see through it.

Any other deadly spells the GM can think of, invent, or roll.

Possessive Undead

Living bodies inhabited by a second spirit. These undead cannot be fought by traditional means without killing their host. In most cases that might not be enough. Magic weapons and some spells might work, but an exorcism is typically required.

Red Queen, doumyakutosi

0 HD (1 HP): The Ague

Appearance: invisible, but manifests as a fever. If you could see it, it would look like a tick made of glass and fire.
Wants: to grow fat. To spread
Armor: none
Move: as fast as a bird
Morale:8
Damage: 1d4 damage per day, at sunset. Target cannot heal naturally. (Alternatively, use the disease rules of your choice).

A horrible fever with dry skin, tremors, and terrible visions. The Ague is a minor spirit carried on the air. It latches onto a soul like a tick, growing fat on stolen life essence. It is a spiritual disease; those protected by their faith are immune. Wizards are also immune (their souls are lousy with spare spells and cantrips). A strong soul can drive it off, but prayer, ritual, and exorcism are most effective, lest it seek a new host. Alternatively, target the possessed creature with a spell and hope the Auge takes some damage too.

Encounter: one flops out of the swamp and flies in a PC's ear. The fever hits by nightfall.
Encounter: a merchant sells empty glass jars, each one said to contain a trapped ague. The PCs can surely use a disease-spirit...

Asylum Visitor, Bastien Lecouffe Deharme

1 HD: A Passing Fancy

Appearance: invisible, but manifests as an overwhelming compulsion. If you could see it, it would look like a withered head and spine.
Wants: to act out one particular deed, over and over.
Armour: none
Move: as fast as a scrap of fabric on the wind
Morale: 12
Damage: N/A

The remains of some obsessive creature, caught in a spiral of repetitive madness, unshakable habit, or dark desires, and unable to escape them in death. Their desire was stronger than the call of death; now, it is all that remains. It is bound to a specific location or object. Some have haunted families for generations, growing stronger by absorbing the souls of those they afflict, until they are hydra-headed monsters, powerful but still limited in their desires. A creature afflicted by a Passing Fancy might not know it until circumstances present themselves. When the time is right, they must Save or act out the deed that created the spirit. If a Passing Fancy drives a creature to the same level of obsession as the creature that created it, it gains 1 additional HD when the creature it is afflicting dies.

Encounter: a cannibal spirit haunts the wasteland, the last survivor of an expedition. If a companion dies, the spirit demands that the creature it possesses eat its flesh. An afflicted person grows hungrier by the day; only the flesh of friends can truly satisfy them.

Encounter: the Wellenkat family is cursed. Every son murders their father in the same way, on the same night. It's been this way for generations. Wellenkat Manor is nearly fallen into ruin. The PCs are hired to protect the current (very wealthy) dark, brooding, and guilt-ridden Lord Wellenkat from his dark and brooding son. Plot twist: there are dozens of Passing Fancies afflicting the Wellenkat family, plus a few other dark secrets and neuroses.

OM, Justin Cherry

5 HD: Vengeful Ancestor

Appearance: invisible, but leaves wet footprints on moonlit nights. Manifests as an extremely ancient, extremely bad-tempered personality. If you could see it, it would look like a pale and ragged corpse made of glass.
Wants: to live again.
Move: normal
Morale: 10
Damage: see below.
Special: at a minimum, can cast charm person and wither (1d6 to 4d6 damage) once per day. Can improve 2 stats of possessed creature by +2 (improvement can be removed at will).

A ghost that plots to live again. It needs a suitable host (beautiful, tall, strong, wise, etc.), suitable circumstances (usually the night it died), and time to gather its strength. The more closely the target's soul resembles its own, the easier the possession is. If the ancestor was particularly wicked, it will seek a wicked host. If virtuous, a virtuous host - virtue, twisted by obsession, can be a kind of evil. An afflicted person must Save every 4 hours (6 times per day) or allow the spirit to rule its flesh. Each day, the spirit imposes a -1 penalty to Save. The spirit knows many things, and has many skills.

Encounter: a PC visit the tomb of some hallowed ancestor on a propitious night. Their ancestor speaks to them in a dream and invites theirself into the PC's body. They really want to settle some grudges with another family/house/species, and they don't care if there's been peace for centuries. Ancient crimes cannot go unavenged.
Encounter: the dark spirit of Duke Blasphemous visits knights who fall from grace, promising power and skill and advancement. The Duke provides... for a time, but slowly takes over the flesh of the knight to ride again, sowing terror and feeding his own legend. His sign; a black banner torn in half. His mark: a triple sword stroke, like an arrow pointing up. His victims: impaled along the road, with their heads split in half.

Angel78, REYKAT

10 HD: Apocalypse Shell

Appearance: invisible, but cracks mirrors, tarnishes metal, kills frogs, sends dogs howling into the night. If you could see it, it would look like a floating bonfire made of water and blue glass. You can hear it. It's like a second heartbeat pounding in your ears, frantic and irregular.
Wants: to end the world.
Armour: none.
Move: as fast as an arrow.
Morale: 12
Damage: see below.

A spirit that is made, not born. The culmination of a century of rituals, a selective breeding program, an alchemist's mad dream, a fire in a magical library, or some horrible combination of disasters. A city swallowed by a volcano cries out for vengeance at the cruel carelessness of the world. A grieving mother digs something out of the earth and whispers a terrible prayer to the night sky. Perfect love casteth out fear, but, to speak it reverently, so does perfect hate. The Apocalypse Shell is a protoplasmic thing, boiling with half-digested souls, spells, and dreams. It is power incarnate. It needs a host to grow to full strength, and to conceal it from the eyes of the world.

The PCs are unlikely to be chosen as hosts for the Apocalypse Shell, but they might encounter one. The host is usually an innocent, someone who can be driven to a tragic rage at the unfairness, brutality, and pointlessness of life. As the host lashes out at the world, the Shell will unfold, and the world will end in fire and blood. Until then, it is kept safe and usually restrained.

Attacks. The Shell makes 1 attack per round if threatened. It makes 1 attack per week if not threatened.  This is usually how people find it.

Wail. 200' range. 2d6 sonic damage within 30', 1d6 damage up to 200' away, and audible for two miles in clear weather. Shatters glass, cracks stone, bursts eyes in their sockets. Creatures that can cover their ears can Save for half damage.

Buckle. Reality warps. Gravity reverses, then flips back. Any loose thing within 50' is briefly tossed into the air. Most of the time, this doesn't deal any damage, but unprepared PCs standing near ledges or in rooms full of flasks of acid might take damage. If the Apocalypse Shell senses a threat, it will target one person with this ability, dealing 2d6 damage and flinging them 50' in any direction. Save negates.

Rend. Something tears in half. This could be a PC, a wall, a farmhouse, a glass jug, or a cow. It's messy. Save negates, but means a nearby object tears in half instead.

Boiling Buzz. A swell of magical power, on the edge of hearing and thought. It grows like a swarm of invisible locusts, cutting and clawing and sizzling. All spells within 200' flee the heads of any spellcasters. They have a 1-in-6 chance of being cast on a random target as they flee. All creatures must Save vs. Wisdom each round or be stunned. The Apocalypse Shell can maintain this ability indefinitely, but cannot perform any other attacks while maintaining it.

Disembodied Undead

Ghosts, ghasts, shadows, and revenants. Things that live on without a body, and don't need a body to live. They can only be damaged by magic weapons or certain rituals, but they can be fought and banished. They are usually immune to a wide variety of spells.

Topplegeist, Seb McKinnon

0 HD (1HP): Gibberling

Appearance: mostly invisible, but pops in and out of vision. Looks like a ball of mist with a half-formed face.
Wants: to touch things, to knock things over, to undo knots
Armour: as leather
Move: 2x normal
Morale: 6 (will sulk and return later)
Damage: 1d4, ignores armour

The ghosts of people or animals killed so swiftly they are not aware they have died, but with insufficient willpower to remain whole and cohesive. Usually magic is involved (or guns or explosives, if your setting has those). A Gibberling doesn't know what it is or where it is or what it wants to do, so it reaches out in idle frustration to ruin the plans or happiness of people nearby, in half-understood envy. It is only as strong as a newborn, but it can still undo knots, turn pages, tip over candles, and generally inconvenience people. Usually, Gibberlings last a few days or weeks before fading. They can be scattered by funeral ashes and scared away by prayers.

Encounter: a village was wiped out in the night by some unseen disaster; a curse, a swift disease, a burp of CO2 from a volcanic lake. The entire place is infested with Gibberlings. Hundreds of them.
Encounter: a climbing party fell to their death in the dark, and the bottom of the pit is filled with the soft grey mist of the Gibberlings. They aren't dangerous... until the PCs try to climb out.

Save Me, Konstantin Kostadinov

1 HD: Faded Memory

Appearance: mostly invisible, but sometimes, as they were in life, but distorted, ethereal, translucent, grey. They move slowly, gracefully, as if underwater.
Wants: to play out some half-remembered fragment of its life
Armour: as plate
Morale: 12
Damage: 1d6, drains 1/4 level XP or does some equivalently horrible thing. Ignores armour.

Some spirits remain out of grief, or guilt, or madness. There's no reason to it. No unfinished business, no drive. They simply refuse to depart. They drift slowly, acting out their last days, seeing nothing, thinking of nothing. Their attention can be attracted with difficulty; it is rarely worth it. The swat aside distractions with murderous haste, then return to their burned-in path. Their touch kills if they want to kill. Otherwise, it's just cold mist.

Encounter: a noble's child is sick; each night it grows weaker. Doctors and wizards are baffled, but an old priest suspects the work of a ghost. A nurse was killed in the house years ago. Each night, she visits the child's crib to tend to it. Uncovering the secret will embarrass a lot of powerful people.
Encounter: a ruined castle, detested by the villagers below, filled with the ghosts of courtiers, servants, and nobles, acting out a silent life. They were slaughtered in a single hour by a powerful sorcerer, who remains trapped in the castle's throne room, unable to leave because of the throne's protective curse.

Immortality, Chenthooran

5 HD: Gestated Guilt

Appearance: mostly invisible, but can appear in two forms. A hideous, amorphous, cancerous thing, made from ash and black tar, or the idealized form of the creator's guilt.
Wants: to get revenge on its creator, in a strange half-understood way.
Armour: as plate
Morale: 12.
Damage: 1d6, drains 1/4 level XP. Alternatively, 2d6, throws target 10'.

Not all ghosts come from the dead. Guilt, over many years, can form a sort of pseudo-soul. A guilty person can split their own soul in half, feeding a separate entity on misery and self-loathing, until it becomes a fully separate and dangerous creature. It's a self-destructive spirit. It will lash out to destroy its creator and anyone near them, as its creator watches helplessly and, possibly, with a sense of relief.

Encounter: a priest drowned his lover in a pool. He believes he's being haunted by his lover's spirit. The manifestations have become increasingly dangerous and he begs the PCs for  help. The spirit is very dangerous indeed, but it can't be killed normally; the priest will regenerate it, larger and angrier than ever, and slowly grow weaker in the process. Killing him will banish the ghost forever, but he's the only one who knows where the treasure is buried, and he's not stupid enough to tell the PCs until he's certain the ghost is gone.
Encounter: a local noble believes the spirits of his assassinated family are stalking him. His madness has created one ghost; his violent deeds created another. They work to torment him together by blighting all he hoped to gain and all he holds dear. Can the PCs save him from a matched set of ghosts?

Queen, SaeedRamez

10 HD: The Umbral Duchess

Appearance: mostly invisible, save by the light of the thinnest possible crescent moon. Then, a castle on a hill, with white banners and grey stones. Inside, empty halls, save for an assortment of ghosts, spectres, and shadows, and the Duchess.
Wants: to rule, to be obeyed, to cause the suffering of her rival clan
Armour: as plate
Morale: 12
Damage: see below.

She was entombed in her castle and left to starve, but death did not carry her away. She remembers her stronghold and it grows from her soul. She was a powerful wizard, in secret. A wise ruler, in public. But the times changed and she was entombed. When she died, she rode out on her pale horse, and the grass died beneath its feet. The path can still be seen and followed. She rode to the castle of  her enemies and swore a terrible oath. She would kill every member of their household unless the first child born to any heir was sent to her castle to starve to death in a crypt. But not in infancy, but just before they came of age, just when they expected to be accepted into the family.

And then she drained the life from her tormentors, just to make sure they got the message, and left their withered bodies on the floor. Perhaps the PCs have come to beg for her aid or her wisdom. Perhaps they have come to rescue the doomed heir. Perhaps they merely blundered into things. There is no treasure here. She will treat visitors courteously as long as they honour her properly. She will tolerate minor rudeness and ignorance, but questioning her current state, her desires, or her power will result in slowly rising anger and, probably, a horrific death for the PCs.

When combat begins, or when the Umbral Duchess is sufficiently annoyed, she becomes invisible and then flies towards a PC, appearing only at the last second, all the while howling in misery and range. All creatures witnessing this must Save vs Fear or flee. Fleeing creatures must Save a second time or suffer the Soul Drain effect below. Particularly devout people may be immune to both effects.

Attacks. The Umbral Duchess acts twice per Initiative round; the first time in the usual position, and the second time after all the other combatants have finished. Without proper protection the PCs are likely to be annihilated.

Soul Drain. Target creature within 30' must Save or lose 1 level of XP and be stunned for one round. Their hair goes grey immediately and they age 2d10 years.

Caress. The Umbral Duchess moves to any spot within 30' and makes a normal attack against the target, ignoring armour. If she hits, she deals 3d6 damage. Creatures killed in this way rise as Wights under her control.

Guilt. Target takes 1 damage for every innocent person they have personally killed or ordered to be killed. If this damage kills the target, they are dragged screaming into the afterlife.

Spell Reflection. The Umbral Duchess casts the last spell that was cast on her, but with 1 extra level/magic dice, or otherwise improved, and with a few minor flourishes of her own invention.

Freeze. The Umbral Duchess moves to any spot within 30' and makes a normal attack against the target, ignoring armour. If she hits, the target is frozen for 3 rounds. It cannot speak or move. After the 3rd round, the target may Save to break the enchantment.

Flesh Peel. Only used on helpless or frozen targets, or the wounded. Target takes 1d6 damage as their skin and flesh fall away in long, easy-to-chew strips.

OSR: Class: Sword Exorcist

Based on the series Mononoke, which is probably the weirdest, most beautiful series I've seen in the last few years. If you're into slow-burn horror and cool art, check it out.

Base Exorcist class.

Starting Equipment: The Sword of Exorcism

The Church has chosen you to fight Disembodied Undead. You are most effective against ghosts, revenants, and other spirits, visible or invisible. More importantly, you seek the truth. Powerful disembodied undead are born of violent acts, dishonorable deeds, and terrible crimes. To banish them, you must know the truth, and you can use the truth against them.

Your calling is dangerous and, in many ways, disreputable. You are constantly visiting scenes of violence and disorder. You sit outside society's laws and codes, judging, condemning, and assisting people in ways the Church cannot officially sanction. You may need to disguise yourself as a peddler, a beggar, or a madman to complete your task.

Cannot locate source at this time.

Templates

A: The Art of the Sword of Exorcism
B: The Warding Marks
C: Zone of Truth, +1 Attack stat
D: Master of the Art

You gain +2 to Save vs Fear for every Sword Exorcist template you possess.

The Art of the Sword of Exorcism
A short sword in a jeweled wooden scabbard, lacquered and bound with silver. A remarkable weapon, but even more remarkable in the hands of a priest. It feels remarkably heavy and seems to draw the eye. The sword cannot be destroyed or damaged by any mundane effects (fire, acid, impact). Spells cast with 4 or more MD can potentially destroy it.

In its scabbard, the sword counts is a magic weapon that deals 1d4+Strength bonus damage. It is wielded as a club.

The sword can only be drawn against a single disembodied undead target. You must name or designate the target, and also meet the following 3 conditions.
1. You must know the target's Form. What does it look like? How does it manifest?
2.You must know the target's Truth. How did it come to be? What were the circumstances of its death? Who was involved?
3. You must know the target's Reason. Why does it remain here, among the living? What does it desire?

These are difficult things to determine. A Sword Exorcist must often act as a detective, searching out the truth, interrogating the guilty, or searching for ancient crimes. Minor ghosts, poltergeists, and spirits can be banished just by brandishing the Sword of Unmaking (and smacking them around a few times). Powerful spirits are not so easily dismissed.

The drawn sword does 4d10 magic damage per round and has a range of 30'. It looks like a roaring flame made from fragments of unreality, an aurora of impossible light and texture. It only affects the targeted disembodied undead, but all undead, even ones normally immune to Fear effects, must Save or flee.

The Warding Marks
You use special coins, pieces of parchment, or ribbons to ward an area. The marks can be used in 2 different ways. You an only safely use the marks once per day. If you use them a second time, you automatically drop to 0 HP.

1. Detection. Any disembodied undead passing within 1' of a mark will cause it to change colour, flicker, or glow. An area up to 20'x[Sword Exorcist Templates] in radius can be warded in this way. Invisibility, intangibility, etc. provide no protection. The Marks cannot be fooled.

2. Barrier. An area up to 10'x[Sword Exorcist Templates] in radius is covered in marks. There must be solid surfaces on all sides; this ability will not work outdoors. All doors and windows are warded. Undead on the outside of the marks cannot enter; undead on the inside of the marks cannot leave. If the Sword Exorcist crosses the boundary for any reason the effect ends. This ability also affects spells, scrying, enchanted items, etc. To any spell, spirit, or angel, the barrier is solid. Each hour the barrier is active, you lose 1 HP.

Zone of Truth
Your soul is clad in ice. You are unsettling and extremely odd. No one can lie to you about murder. They can evade, they can remain silent, but if they go to speak, they cannot lie... and they feel the weight of their guilt on them. Every minute spent in conversation with a Sword Exorcist imposes a -1 penalty to Morale.

Master of the Art
You have practiced using the Sword of Exorcism. While wielding it, you gain a +2 bonus to Defense. Once per day you can deflect an incoming spell that targets you or the area you are standing in. You can make an Attack roll to swat it back at the caster.

Message is the Bottle, Marguerite Sauvage

Mechanical Notes on the Sword Exorcist

A semi-martial class, but with very specific detective bent. You need to figure out why the ancient spirit is haunting the dungeon in order to be most effective. Failing that,  you can club spirits (and other things) to death, and protect your party extremely well, but your main goal is to banish spirits and ghosts by discovering the reason for their existence, drawing your sword, and doing staggering damage.

You are also equipped to fight one of the deadlier types of enemies in traditional games. Ghosts, spirits, shadows, and spectres are terrifying for very good reasons.

A Lonesome Queen, Felipe Escobar

OSR: Medieval Things, Part 2: Moderately Blasphemous Time Travel Campaign

This post brought to you by Bunnahabhain single malt scotch whisky (18 yr). And a wee cup of water.

Prologue:

The setting is France, ~1390.

A mysterious metal box appeared in a field just outside of Paris. It's the size of a small cottage and shaped vaguely like an enormous upright coffin. King Charles VI orders it brought to the royal court for examination. Everyone gathers around to offer advice. The box has a door, it's discovered, and some strange markings inside in a language no one can read. After a few days, a monk discovers that one of the panels displays numbers in a mangled form of arabic numerals, and a dial can adjust them. There's also a map of the world - at least, it seems to be, but nobody's quite sure - and a way to adjust where the map is focused. Before he can do anything else, the box fills with light. A very confused identical copy of the monk appears.

After a lot of screaming and fighting and a few tests by hot iron, it's determined that the monk is from the future, three weeks away, and knows how the dials work. He explains it to his past-self, who promptly tests it and vanishes.

King Charles declares the box off-limits for a few days, and then makes a revolutionary announcement to his court. The box is divinely sent. It is clearly an invitation to the virtuous nation of France to right the wrongs of history... starting with the obvious source of all trouble. If the Crucifixion can be stopped, he declares, and Christ rescued by the French, all will be right with the world. The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!

Travels of Marco Polo

The PCs

The PCs are standard medieval peasants or knights or monks or whatever, but for some reason, have been inducted into the newly created Ordo Salutis, the Order of Salvation. They are being sent back in time to stop the Crucifixion, rescue Christ, and right all the wrongs of history. To aid in this, they have been given the very best armour, weapons, tools, and advice medieval France can offer.

King Charles and most of the reigning nobles have already vanished into the box, so something must have gone awry. You might also need to rescue them.

The Problem

Somehow, the perfidious English got their hands on their own magic box. In fact, there are dozens of the things. The Mount of Calvary is a chaotic brawl. The English are fighting the French, the French are fighting the Romans, the Romans are fighting crazy bearded men in skirts; it's all chaos and confusion. Every time a box is used it it creates a new box (unless there's one already present).

The PCs are given orders by a weary Oliver de Clisson to stop the English by assassinating King Arthur. Without their mythological founding king, the English would be easy prey and probably vanish completely. It's a long shot, but off the PCs go.

Except King Arthur's a myth (or is he)?

So they decide to assassinate the Emperor Claudius instead. No Claudius, no Roman conquest of Britain. No Roman conquest of Britain, no troublesome English kings.

Except now the Romans now have time machines in 43 AD and 32 AD...

Oh yeah, you should also make sure you've got a good sound effect for time travel.

The Chaos

With multiple competing factions running through time, the game is more or less immediately going to devolve into gonzo time shenanigans. As more and more paradoxes and alternate histories are created, each with their own time machine, the situation grows more complex. Halluci-nations spring up like weeds.

And then the future gets involved, and tanks and laser guns start showing up. Can the PCs find a nice stable point in history and also get rich? Can they acomplish their original goal? What sort of inaccuracies and trouble can they cause, bearing in mind their inaccurate grasp of  history.

War Elephant, BL, Add 11283 fol. 4r

Play Materials

The GM should have access to the internet and a good reference library. The wikipedia pages for each year are useful too. Don't worry too much about accuracy; just skim for interesting bits. Caricaturize.

The players have access to the first few chapters of "1066 and All That" and their own memories. The GM is never to point out inaccuracies in the players' memories; if they can't remember if Charlemagne died in 418 or 814, let them pick a date and a location. They're off!

The GM should build a table of factions and roll on it as required to see who else has turned up to any major historical event. I'll write actual tools if people like this idea.

Ludicrous music too. Mix all the genres.

Cannot find source; have scotch.

The Machine

Has a resolution of about 6 miles and 0.01 years (4 days, give or take). Tends to arrive in historically amusing times and locations.

OSR: Tomb of the Serpent Kings: Session 11

Continued from here. In which the party is tricked, goblins are exterminated, lasers are dodged, and more rooms are explored.
There are also illustrations.


The Party
A nameless human Paladin of the Voice. Very faithful, very dumb. Recently mauled by an alkalion, still sad about it.
Franklin, the Iron Frog. A frogling knight and master of the feudal hierarchy.
Antonia Barracuda, a fishling thief, illegal wizard, and creator of sensible plans.
Annie, an antling Wizard of the White Hand. Likes her new friends, doesn't want to die alone.


They buried Fergus at dawn. Their newly recruited priest, Alan, said a few words over the pile of stones and reverently placed the late goatling's straw hat on top of the heap. The party shrugged and sat down to breakfast. Fergus hadn't been popular, and his demise had been particularly idiotic.

While they were finishing their meal, a rider from Baron Bayle approached the gates of their little fortress. He carried a large banner and clearly looked important. The party hid any illegal loot and spellbooks and tried to look presentable. The Baron's herald (named Harold) had no sense of humour at all. He pointed out that the party had promised the Baron wagon-loads of treasure. One wagon-load had arrived, true, but in the weeks since the shipments of gold had been non-existent. The Baron was concerned. 

The party explained that the dungeon was very dangerous. They'd lost three soldiers to tragic, completely unforeseeable accidents. But both of the Baron's very expensive and valuable wizards were safe. The party nodded in agreement. Yes. Completely safe. Fergus had just... run off into the woods in terror. He might return.

After a few more lies, Harold agreed to depart, but he insisted on leaving a representative behind. Reginald was one of the Baron - or, more accurately, the Baron's son's - closest advisors. The thin, greasy, and disreputable looking human joined the party and insisted on shaking everyone's hands. He was polite, even courteous, but there was something dark and suspicious about him. The party, Antonia especially, was not eager to have "the Baron's spy" looking over their shoulders.

As their new friend Reginald was too valuable to risk, the party insisted he stay above ground, under heavy guard and constant watch. He listened with interest to the ill-timed, "Lament for the Fallen Fergus" composed by the group's minstrel, who had not been briefed on all the lies he was required to maintain. The party's first target was the goblins. They considered a few approaches, checked their maps, and decided to have the Paladin solve the problem using divine intervention.



Naked except for his new lion-skin loincloth, the Paladin bravely faced the wall of the Basilisk Hall and commanded it to "OPEN". By divine decree the rock parted... but only wide enough to fit a human arm. The party could clearly smell the goblin filth-pits on the other side, but they couldn't see in or attack.

"Bah, mediocre!" Antonia said, and fired off a dissolve spell. Her green beams of focused acid slowly wore away at the wall, scorching any goblins who approached, until a massive passage was fully open. Annie was impressed and slightly envious.

When the acid stopped sizzling, the Paladin commanded the group's partially tamed Basilisk (named Rocky), to "EAT ALL GOBLINS". Rocky had been recently fed an entire haunch of beef but could not disobey the divine command. He blundered into the room, scattering goblins left and right, snapping up any he could catch and sending the rest fleeing. The party dispatched any stragglers. When Rocky finished, he was so round his middle two pairs of legs didn't touch the ground, and waggled helplessly in the air. The very satiated basilisk crawled into a corner and fell asleep.

A thorough search of the goblin mire revealed a shining magic crown made of diamonds and gold, 8gp in loose change, and a ruby the size of a walnut. The party decided to give both the ruby and the gold to Reginald, hoping he'd take them and leave. They buried the crown for later. The Paladin used the last of his holy reserves to seal the stone passageway between the warrens and the goblin spawning pit, and then rubbed dead goblin fluids on himself in a fit of primal joy. No one was entirely sure why he felt the need to do this.

Reginald, on the surface, was please to take the gold and the ruby, but later returned both to Franklin... in exchange for a promise to take him through the rest of the dungeon. Franklin reluctantly agreed.

The party decided to clear a room they'd previously ignored. In the upper portion of the dungeon, near rancid pool of mummy water, one of the tomb chambers had collapsed. Franklin remembered hearing something thumping on the other side, and the party decided to investigate. They clear a small portion of the rubble, spotted a lurching mummy in a gold mask on the other side, debated for a bit, threw holy water at it, and then filled the room with torches and oil and burnt the thing. Reginald was impressed with the party's resourcefulness; the party was disappointed at the lack of loot.

The Paladin vaguely remembered that mummy flesh was sold in apothecary shops as a powerful medicine. He'd been itching ever since he'd rubbed goblin juice into his flesh, and he was starting to break out in small white hives.While the rest of the party was occupied, he ate one of the burnt mummy's fingers. Horrible painful lesions opened all over his body. Silently miserably, he was hauled to the surface in Annie's wheelbarrow and doused in holy water. Annie then tried out the extract venom spell and extracted a cluster of gibbering goblin-remnant-things into a flask. The Paladin seemed less itchy. Nobody knew what to do with the flask, but they kept the burnt mummy remains for later use.

They decided to venture into the chasm again... but in the morning. The Paladin and Reginald borrowed leather armour from two of the soldiers. The rest of the group reloaded their spells, sharpened their weapons, and loaded their packs.

The next morning, with Reginald and two soldiers, the group crept down the narrow stone stairs in the chasm. They passed the den of the lion-creature (now called the "dandy-lion" by the group) and found a second door lower down. (7)

This unlocked door lead to a set of beautifully tiled obsidian stairs. The black volcanic glass was just a facade; underneath, the stairs were simple stone, but the effect was still impressive. The party descended cautiously. At the bottom of the stairs they discovered a very strange room, unlike anything they'd seen in the upper tomb.

The room contained a large pool of bubbling green liquid, held in a raised tank or pond. Above the liquid, floating free and without visible supports, was a glass sphere. Inside the sphere, gems and a stone obelisk.

After some negotiation regarding danger pay, two of the soldiers (Joel and Jacques) made a cautious circut of the room. They found a barred iron door on the other side, but the entire room seemed to be safe, if a little eerie. Franklin and Antonia entered next.

The combined weight of four people triggered a mechanism in the floor. The floor began to sink, revealing holes in the side of the bubbling green pool. The corrosive liquid spread rapidly across the sinking floor. Antonia and Franklin scrabbled up to the doorway. Joel ran and was hauled up in time, but poor Jacques was slightly too far away. The moment the liquid hit his boots he began to dissolve, screaming in terror as his legs melted out from under him and sent him toppling forward.

The floor slowly rose to its original height over the next twenty minutes, and the acid retreated back into the pool. Only Jacques' bones remained. Everything else, from his sword to his boots, had melted away.

Annie volunteered to scout the room again. She strung a rope from the doorway to the edge of the pool, hammered in an iron spike, and then spiked the rope a second time on the opposite wall. If the floor started to sink, anyone trapped in the room could grab the rope and hang on for dear life... provided the iron spikes held. It was better than nothing.

The barred door (10) on the other side of the room was too heavy for Annie to open alone, so Antonia, against her better judgement, crossed the room to assist. Together they hauled up the bar and tossed it to one side. They ran as mechanisms clicked, gears whirled, and the doors swung automatically open. 

While Antonia stood on the other side of the room and shouted advice, Annie approached the long obsidian-lined hallway (11). She noticed several silver grooves in the walls and a mysterious humming noise that increased in intensity as she walked briskly forward. Suddenly, red beams of light shot from the walls. Annie screamed and ran, but several beams hit her, scorching her carapace and sending her tumbling to the floor. She half ran, half-crawled towards Antonia. 

The party bandaged their antling friend and left her in her wheelbarrow, with Joel to keep her company. They discussed their next move. Annie pointed out that the beams seemed to start at knee-height; if the party crawled "like a snake-man on his belly", they could probably cross safely.

The Paladin volunteered to go first. He crawled through safely, without setting off the laser trap, and discovered an octagonal room (B) on the far side. There was a strange statue of a snake-man sage or wizard, making the sign of the Adversary (a triangle, point down). A blue-white glow shone from inside the triangle formed by the snake-man's hands. After Antonia, Franklin, and their new fried Reginald crept through, the party examined the statue carefully. The base didn't seem to be fully attached to the ground.

Before they could examine it further, Reginald shrugged, cackled, and transformed into a hideous blob-creature with a body like a worm made of boiling tar and his own grinning face. The party prepared to attack him, but Reginald politely pointed out that he was a wizard, and this was perfectly normal wizard behavior. Shrugging, the party accepted it... but howled in rage as Reginald dove head-first into the glowing blue light, vanishing instantly.

Side note: Reginald is an Animist Wizard. He is also someone the party really wants to keep alive. As a personal adviser to their boss, Reginald has a lot of influence. Everyone's mad, but in a sort of admiring way - I've manage to get the one risk-taking player to roll up a character who the other players really can't afford to lose. Taxes. They're handy.

Reginald passed through the portal unharmed and landed in an identical octagonal room. (F) He looked around, shouted, then popped through the portal again. He didn't end up in the original room, but in an entirely separate area. (C) He immediately tried again, found himself in yet another octagonal room, and heard something squelching down the corridor behind him. It looked like shimmering air in a heat haze. He dove into the portal again and emerged... somewhere else. (12)

A giant stone snake-man, 50' high, loomed over the terrified wizard. It moved like a landslide, slowly peering down at the cowering wizard, and then belching a blue-white beam of light directly at him. The beam sizzled as it hit the floor, leaving a thin scorch mark. Reginald dived through the portal again, but the gigantic animated statue seemed to follow him with the beam, sending it through the portal and scorching the room on the other side (A). Reginald's howls for help brought the party running; he was just down a corridor from them. The dodged around the beam, checked on their companion , and paused.

Something was squelching down the corridor ahead of them. It looked like a wall of heat-haze, a clear transparent ripple in the air. Suddenly it boiled into the room, chasing after them. Franklin shouted "Ooze!" and ran.

The ooze pursued at speed. The PCs were forced to crawl through the laser-trap again, and then wait to move across the sinking acid-pit. They made it just in time. The ooze came barreling down the hallway after them, failed to activate the laser trap, and plopped into the room. Its' additional bulk set off the pressure trap, and the room began to sink once again. The party watched from the safety of the stairs (8) as the ooze bumbled around, searching for them. It was completely unharmed by the acid.

What else would the party find in the lower levels of the Chasm of the Serpent Kings? What is a laser anyway? And is Reginald really a wizard?

The Puzzle

Discussion below.