Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Twin Snakes Wizard Boot

The boot gives mediocre advice in exchange for tequila and live mice.
They will tell you their venom is the strongest in all possible worlds. They will entice you to painstakingly milk their throbbing mouth glands.
Really though, you'd just be tickling a demonic prostate.
The twin snakes wizard boots want nothing to do with those who have milked them. You will find then only dark looks and hissing laughter.
Even for demons, they are grossly base cretins.

Friday, October 21, 2016

IMPORTANT: an interview with an OSR luminary...


I lived in this guy's trailer a few months back so now seems like a good time to ask him all the important questions.

An interview with +Anxy P. , y'all!

He drawed this picture for me.
Some other arts are here.
The above picture is in this book.

So how do you feel about Oprah Winfrey, Will?

I feel the same way about Oprah that I do about The Lottery. Shirley Jackson or the other, your pick.
If you had to eat the entirety of dog or cat, which would it be? Please specify the breed. Bonus points for recipes.

Dog. Newfoundland because of size and utilization of the coat afterward. 

Choose between the following superpowers and consequences:
A. You are invulnerable to damage, but your testicles painfully explode.
C. You can float a few inches off the ground while drunk, but sometimes your arm feels funny.
Z. You can transmit any pain and damage done to your body into somebody else's body, but now your favorite relative gets migraines

C. because it already happens daily.

The wrong kind of weirdo has a gun to your head, choose between losing your right pinky finger or both pinky toes!

Right pinky finger. I don't use it for bass playing. But I dance.

What popular song do you hate the most?

I hate Nick Jonas' Jealous

What popular song do you hate the least?

 I hate Ariana Grande's Into You the least.

Syrup or Jelly?

Depends on the jelly. Molasses is lower on the convertible sugar scale. Jelly usually spikes me in an uncontrollable way. Taste, jelly. Diabetes, syrup because it's easy to regulate.

All important issues have now been covered.

Thursday, October 13, 2016

Curse Bringer

There is only one type of true magic.
(Never you mind wizards and their flashy tricks.)
It is subtle and strange.
It is strong but particular.

“The art of the seamstress runs dangerous and deep.
“Beware of bone needles threaded with hair.

“In the wrath of wise women, take care,
“Great care.”

To affect folk, you need a facsimile of one. A handful of rags, a needle, and thread will do just fine.
(A handful of mud and fire will work just as well. Mandrake root is effective and ready made, though it does truly scream if harvested towards this purpose. [The picker must Save or Die. Go to 1 HP on a successful save. Best to trick another into doing the picking.])

Once the doll is done. Tie it to your victim.

Sew it up with her hair. Stain its stuffing with his blood. Take her tears. Steal his semen. Connect the doll with your victim. Then whisper their name thrice, interspersed with the operative word.
Finally mar your work in way that matches your intent. A pin through the knee to make him lasting lame. Black ribbons wrapped tight to steal her sight. Rend it open to make him die. A knot in the heart to make her cry. Add a serpent’s tongue and he can’t help but lie.
Do this all in the night.
When morning must come, your wish will be right.

Game shit!
New Class, Curse Bringer.

Saves, HP, Levels, ETC as Wizard/Magic User.

Abilities: Bring Curse.
Once each Night the Curse Bringer may perform a curse on any sentient, mortal being.
The curse is symbolically executed upon a connected doll (see above) and comes true with the rising sun, if the victim fails a saving throw vs. magic.
This save is negatively modified by the Curse Bringer’s Level (-1/lvl).

The curse must be contained in a single, descriptive word:
Blinded, Dying (takes 1d4 additional days), Quiet, Impotent, Lame, Lying, Melancholic, etc.

Blood, Seminal Fluid, and/or Hair, when freely given, cause the victim to suffer an additional -2 to their saving throw.

Discarded Nail Clippings, Hair, and Blood give the victim a +2 on their saving throw.

Connecting the doll symbolically (for instance dressing in similar clothing, drawing a decent likeness of the victim’s face, using a family member’s blood, hair, etc.) allows the victim to roll their save twice, taking the best result.

If the victim passes his/her saving throw, the curse rebounds to the Curse Bringer at sunrise. The Curse Bringer is also entitled to a saving throw. If this saving throw is passed, an appropriate Spiritual Entity will charge the Victim and the Curse Bringer with a specific quest. Of course both parties must work together or suffer some terrible consequence. Life lessons are optional.

Curses last until the doll is destroyed in daylight. The exception is the dying curse, which is irreversible once 3 days have passed. Rebounding dying curses kill instantly.

Toying with death rarely works out. He is a ruthless accountant.

There are many other rituals that may be performed by a Curse Bringer. Such rituals are little known, rare, and fiercely guarded. Many may only be performed once.

Sunday, October 9, 2016

Why Goblins?

The New Formed Goblin drinks deep of pointlessness.
In a moment, he will smile.

Goblins do not care in a fashion to which many are secretly jealous.

Their own lives hardly matter. They are 4 year olds mainlining amphetamines and nihilism. 

By extension, nothing but the moment matters to them, nothing but the moment exists for a goblin. 
There is no point in the past or the future; both directions lead to unbeing. 

This allows them to be present in a way no yogi nor guru nor monk ever could.

We would be right to be jealous if they were real.

So in worlds where they are real, imagine how much they would be hated.

Imagine how little they would care, how little they could care.

This is why the goblin laughs when you cut off her brother’s foot. This is why the brother slugs his sister before he bothers to try and bite through your Achilles tendon.

Goblins know the absurd joke of existence. Goblins are the absurd joke of existence.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

noose tied around yer neck in the form of a tie


Day 4 - Demon

So, so many ancient pacts between fools and demons were tied with a terrible knot about the neck.

So much the better for dark ones when cravats and neck ties became such an enduring part of men's fashion.

Power is exchanged for compassion. One often flees in the presence of the other so it difficult to know if the monster is the man or tie wrapped 'round his throat.

By necessity Knot Demons are very fluent in current affairs, mergers, acquisitions, political stratagems, and fashion.  They are fierce negotiators. Should you summon one, be ready to trade many secrets for a single answer.

DO NOT under any circumstances allow one to come within a 12 inches of your neck.

The creature closes its collar-jaws with surreal speed. Suddenly, fangs pierce your spine.

Before you can comprehend, a new voices cajoles and screams in your head. Pulling yourself free is a sure way to die. You don't have to agree to its awful pact, but the beast will allow you no rest, not a heartbeat of relief, until you agree or die.

By necessity, Knot Demons molt weekly. They are always, always in style... 

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Early Draft of a Monster

Fingerbone Crawler aka Side-channel Worm

What were they? What are they, crawling in the dark?
Clawing, clawing in the dark.
Do they hate? Do they know?
Could they understand? Would they comprehend?
Are their spines for violence or soley defend?
What else but man might stalk through their inherited halls?
Were they us, once, turned sharp and curled in stinking dark?
Were they better? Were they worse?
Which of us came first?

To the lightless halls, it were them?
But what of the end?
When the many suns' distend?...
When we shall surely perish, what then?

Is it concrete, feeds and fends them?
End to end? Along the side?

The air is heavy in their ditches,
Sleep so deep. So deep.

You will know them by their stenches.

Weep child, weep.

The finished version will be in next month's issue of SNNS&SCS.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

One trick pony classes...

Hopeless Romantic / Obsessed Creepo
Saves are like 18 across the board. d6 HD.
BAB is equal to the number of people watching, to whom the person is sexually attracted.
Permanent -1 BAB penalty per love interest that dies.
If BAB gets worse than -1, then character enters a suicidal fugue.
I guess if you wanna be Tina in a dungeon… this is how you do it.
Or just roll up a fighter and then act exactly like Tina in a dungeon. That’s probably more fun anyway.
Then again, Tina leading a conga line of Jimmy JR clones and zombies in a bid to kill the dungeon boss…

Danger Princess
Bonus to Saves is equal to the number of potential damage dice around her.
Otherwise saves are 15 across the board. d6 HD.
Like if she’s tied up over a pit 1d6, filled with angry otters (4 of ‘em at d3), and there’s a fucking dragon (d8/d8/d12) she gets a +8 to her save against demon possession or cholera or whatever.
Cumulative 1% chance a prince or princess will come to “rescue” Danger Princess with each violent encounter…
She must then either surrender  class powers or slay her bossy rescuer or like, however she handles it. Ya know.

Friday, June 17, 2016

If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them.
---Leviticus 20:13 

I was raised in a household that boycotted Disney in the 90s because, I guess, Disney didn't ban homosexuals from their theme parks...

Many years ago, I realized I was bi.

A few months ago, I wrote a 1 page dungeon contest entry about an attack on a pseudo medieval gay bar. (I did kind of a bad job with it, especially layout wise.)

A few weeks ago, I realized I was trans.

Almost immediately after that, public restrooms became a focus of my anxiety. (That and homemade Trump for president signs.)

A few days ago Pulse, a queer nightclub was attacked. You know about that, though.

I've stared at hate for a long time, from a number of perspectives. I used to be a bad person.

When I was a young teenager, I thought it was morally acceptable to murder abortion providers. I was encouraged in this terrible idea rather than rebuked.

When I say I've looked at hate from a number of perspectives, I mean it, quite terribly, I mean this.

Hate is probably more often your uncle or your neighbor or your pastor than it is somebody with a swastika tattoo or pipebomb.

It's sad, abandoned boys desperate to lash outwards.

It's the town drunk who is quietly happy that someone is a much worse sinner than she.

Anyway, here is a slightly better version of my entry...

Feather's and Flame:

{ a study in intolerance }

Priest Kliner had reached a dead end in his ecclesiastical career. He just didn't  have the political acumen to rise any higher. He knew the One-Father loved him, chose him, but the fools all about could not see.

He prayed for a miracle. Flagellantly, he denounced his terrible hungers. Priest Kliner took to wearing hair shirts and wandering the streets in the small hours of the morning.

There, in some piss-stained alley, behind an apple cart, the One-Father gave him succor. Kliner's hungers turned towards a prostitute. He followed her & found a den of inequity beyond his imagining. Idolatry, buggery, & so much more.

the everyday face of a monster, Pr. Kliner

Adrahna  | forceful, brazen, braggart, ciswoman, dresses as man, master of the smallsword, bisexual.
Heraclest | big, effeminate, soft-spoken, lonely, & gay. Large mop of curled mouse-brown hair.
Cowl  | (Formerly Colleen) lives as a man at a nearby monastery. Studious, quiet, & sincere. Tonsured. He is the sometimes lover of Adrahna.
Dark Heather  | dabbler of the occult, former lover of both Heraclest & Adrahna.  Pansexual ( Supposedly in a relationship with a ghost).
Sereh  | Reputation an even tempered widow & is aprosperous proprietress of several ropewalks. Actually deeply involved sensualist. Willing to try anything.
Horast  | Huge, fat, drunk, one-armed barkeep/owner. Not interested in much beyond the exclusive coin he can pump out of his clientele. (Formerly a black smith . Keeps his old hammer behind the bar.)
Previously Peter | P. P. was an apple thief hanged a century before. Surprisingly, Dark Heather is in fact in a long-term, committed, relationship with a ghost, this ghost. Previously Peter is completely immaterial, except to D. Heather .
(Could be invaluable aid, if anyone believes Heather.)|

Where the Feathered Dandy is Situated... Click the pic to enlarge.


10 Bells - Immediately after Kliner’s sermon, Tam Boisen (Red Faced & Flashy) leads 10 typical & goodly townsmen (torches & clubs) to destroy the Dandy and those within.

Tam Boisen

Five minutes later, Twill Boisen (Red Faced, Drunk, Bulbous Nose) staggers into the fray with 12 ruffians (knives & ropes) looking to lynch and loot.

Twill Boisen

Within 10 minutes 20 Gendarmes arrive (Bec De Corbins & leather jackets). They simply attempt to restore order restored as soon as possible.

(good luck sorting it out, players)

AFTERMATH,  If his honest flock is harmed, Kliner can blame the lax ways of his superiors & profit. If his flock is successful, he can take full credit for their righteousness & profit.

(Kliner knows all of this but will admit such to no one, least of all himself.)

Monday, June 6, 2016

It came green, too close to the beach, but not from the sea.
Much too green, shining, it threw back the sun’s rays with extraneous intensity.
There was/ There is a strange singing there. It arises through reality and not simply the sea.
We have had wine skies ever since. Slowly up it comes.
Many believe that destruction was hidden under its feet.
It moves on a scale difficult to comprehend.
How fast must we seem to it? What blurs are we, beside the wine-skied sea?
Never mind. We are sea spray, scattering light, known only for our interference on sunshine.

Monday, May 23, 2016

Dangerous Women

Washerwomen were tougher than you can believe.

Did you ever spend all your money on dice and/or beer back in college? Did ya ever happen to try to wash your jeans by hand?

That shit sucks…

The strength need to do that day in and day out… can you imagine the savage grip strength?

Not to mention, the lye soap was strong enough to cause chemical burns. You could tell a washerwoman by her scars…

Now imagine those hands on the lily white neck that bought them with the land.

Fed Up Washerwoman
A class for LotFP
       Levels  |     XP          
1                    0                      Paralyze: 16 | Poison: 12 | Breath: 16 | Device: 16 | Magic: 16 |
2                    1,000               Paralyze: 15 | Poison: 11 | Breath: 16 | Device: 16 | Magic: 16 |
3                    3,000               Paralyze: 14 | Poison: 11 | Breath: 16 | Device: 16 | Magic: 16 |
4                    9,000               Paralyze: 13 | Poison: 10 | Breath: 16 | Device: 16 | Magic: 16 |
5                    27,000             Paralyze: 12 | Poison: 10 | Breath: 14 | Device: 16 | Magic: 16 |
6                    80,000             Paralyze: 12 | Poison: 10 | Breath: 14 | Device: 15 | Magic: 15 |
7                    120,000           Paralyze: 11 | Poison: 10 | Breath: 14 | Device: 15 | Magic: 15 |
8                    200,000           Paralyze: 11 | Poison: 10 | Breath: 14 | Device: 15 | Magic: 15 |
9                    300,000           Paralyze: 10 | Poison: 09 | Breath: 13 | Device: 15 | Magic: 15 |  +100,000            Paralyze: 10 | Poison: 08 | Breath: 13 | Device: 15 | Magic: 14 |

+1 BAB
Hit Dice d10
Wringing Necks or Neckerchiefs
Fed Up Washerwomen can Choke attack for 1d6+Str Modifier (1d8+ for unaware victims). This attack ignores armor, unless a gorget (or similar) is worn.

Strong as your best Ox and at least Twice as Pretty.
Fed Up Washerwomen’s Strength modifiers are 1 higher than rolled.

Walk Quiet When Needed
3/6 Stealth at level 1.
4/6 Level 2.
5/6 Level 4.
6/6 Level 6.

Isn’t it wonderful how the skills of almost any civilized trade can be murderhobo-ed?

Also if Medieval Washerwomen had Unionized, I suspect the world would be a far better place right now.

Saturday, April 23, 2016

"You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack... you may ask yourself, well how did I get here?"

I recently ran a game! Woo! Alpha testing my philosopher's stone (aka my own super-duper-special Fantasy RPG). 

Working title: "Broken Wilds"

In said game, there was a crazy old candle-maker, a crazy scary aelf, and a crazily vain person. They were to be an already "functioning" "team". There wasn't a dungeon so I couldn't just wake them up hungover inside.

I wanted a beginning to help draw everyone into character and tie them all together. 

So, I did something pretty simple.

I got the Players to Answer a few questions during character generation.

  • 1.a Who in the group do you kind of hate? 1.b Why do you work with them anyway?
  • 2.a Who owes you something in the group? 2.b Why can't they pay it back to you yet?
  • 3.a Who, in the group, do you like the most? 3.b How do you let them know?
  • 4.a Who in the group knows your worst secret? 4.b How did they discover this?

The procedure:

Read the 1.a question. First player to call dibs on that question gets to answer it. Whoever the first player chose in his/her response answers the 1.b question for the first player's character.

Each player may only answer a single #.a question.

Repeat until all players get to answer an #.a question.


Sarah is playing Bee the Handy Jill and Sam is playing Sea the Degenerate Wizard.

Sam wins dibs and declares that Sea sorta hates Bee. Sarah tells Sam Sea owes his life to Bee.

Sarah automatically gets the next question. Obviously Sea has like a lifedebt to Bee and so both players declare that sans the formality of the procedure. 

Alternatively She could have done something weird like a demon blood oath further tying them together. Then he could be all like "we have to kill 4 demons!"

It's worked swimmingly thus far.

Sunday, April 3, 2016


Existential Wizards:

Philosophers, poets, junkies seeing the pearlescent pus of being.

You looked behind the muddied veil of reality: no true forms, no hidden rainbows... only hungry Void.

You weren’t the first. You won’t be the last. You haven’t killed yourself, that’s a start.

Now, go fix the trouble you made.

Characters have 2 important pieces:
NUMBNESS protects from Void. BEAUTY pushes the Void away.

[Roll 1d6 twice for starting Numbness and Beauty.]

[Hitting 0 or 10 = death.]

Otherwise, characters are just folk.

The Enemy:
Void destroys reality in widening gyres.

First pets, then people go missing. Streets fade. Eventually whole cities cease.

A neighborhood dissolves in a year, a city in a decade.

Fight the Emptiness with Art, create or abnegate.

[All works against Void are a gambit. Each character wagers an amount of Beauty.]

[Players roll 1d6 + Wagers . The GM rolls 1d10. Highest wins.]

[If the players roll higher, each adds the amount of their wager to their Beauty. Void in the area goes down a step.]

[If the Void wins, players subtract the wager amount from their Numbness. Void increases.]

[If nothing is wagered for a battle, Numbness goes up by 1, Beauty down by 1]


My submission for the 200 word RPG challenge.

Released under https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ ...


Also I've released a PRINT RPG BOOK with a picture by noted drawer of good pictures, +Anxious P. ,

You should buy it.

[As of this post, the code LULURC, will get you free shipping and 25% off.]

[You should buy my novella, too. The best review so far, "I wish it was a whole goddamned book!"]

[Also, buy Fire on the Velvet Horizon, It is without caveat the best RPG product ever made. Pure imagination fire.]

Thursday, March 17, 2016

Kobold Work Rhyme

busily busily chew-chew-chewing away
chewing away, we say, we say
chewing away, we say.
Gnaw it near, Bite, Nip, Tear.
Bite, Nip, Tear. Bite, Nip, Tear.

Never enough, but we share, we share,
Never enough but we share.

Bite back Hard! When pushed too far.
Bite back Hard. and Run!

[translator's notes: ]
[I have to the degree possible, in association with a not unfamous poet, attempted to preserve the onomatopoeic and alliterative trappings of the dogmen poetic tradition. Working rhymes such as this are whispered in a musical round. The final line is only sung in the final repetition coinciding with the work's end.

Nearby each note and word may be discerned; however, with any distance it becomes a strange echo. It sounds a bit like heavy breath, shifting stones, and running water. Such sounds are haunting but not unfamiliar in cavernous environments.]

Sunday, February 28, 2016

Playing at Sticks

So I decided to participate in an RPG contest [clickable link, y'all]...

“Old King’s got ‘er locked up now, real sharp.

“Got ‘imself a bobbing pair, he does.”


“Been a decade ago, His Majesty Oerick, long live, decreed catastrophe, dismissed the Council of Earls, and remade the Laws of Murder and Assault.

“Carry an implement of war, outside called levies and the constabulary, and you now are attempting murder. Assault is to be charged even in mortal self-defense with ‘yron’ implements. So a felling axe may fell a tree, but should it fell a thief, the woodsman is so charged.

“The penalty? Ten years in fetters or two years conscripted, of course.

“Kingdom’s military is currently better manned than at any point in history. The roads have never been so free of bloody knives. Long live.

“What of the men who play at sticks? A gentleman, freeman, or servant may of course carry a staff or cane or walking stick. The farmer must transport his heavy flail. A woman oft carries a distaff and spindle.

“Such implements, not made of ‘yron’, only carry with them the charge of assault when employed with violent intent, wrongful death rather than murder should it so fit.

“Wrongful death? Why execution with time for repentance, of course… or ten years conscription.”


Public Domain Photo

Keep in mind this was laid out in Word, which is a bit like arranging mosaic tiles with a hammer: doable but unnecessarily rough. Theoretically it would have been quicker to just do a lazy run through with proper layout software... but when I have a bunch of knobs to adjust, I WILL ADJUST THEM. (I guess I could have just left it raw and unfanagled for an even quicker turnaround, but have knobs will adjust.)


So I've added a tip jar to the blog, in the form a Patreon Campaign.

If you've gotten any worth out of these monsters, wizards, and classes and stuff, please consider donating. Any amount would be greatly appreciated and help to ensure I am able to keep doing this (seeing as this is now one of my few sources of income).



Saturday, February 20, 2016


A Smattering of LotFP ideas...
One of which has been tested.

Starting Equipment
(Especially for short term games) 
Very quick turnaround from dropping 3d6 a few times to murdering/being-murdered.

Choose 3 items from the following 4 categories.
Helmet (+1 AC)
Shield (+1 AC)
Weapon (assume 6-12 ammo if appropriate)
Useful Item (Grappling Hook and Rope, Lantern and Oil, Hammer and Spikes, etc.)

Additionally: 2 torches, Flask of Water, Day’s Worth of Shitty Food, Appropriate Clothing, 1d4 Silver Pieces.

You want three helmets? Ok. Two grappling hooks and a shield? Fuck yah.

(For a more nuanced version of this idea CHECK THIS SHIT OUT!)

No. It's cool... I got this.

New Skill – Rough Medicine:

Medical care in the form of half-remembered folkways, dubious herbs, and bloody experience. On a successful skill roll, Rough Medicine heals 1 hp of damage; on a failed roll it causes 1 damage.
“Imma just chew this root, boy-o. That’s right… now I’m gonna just spit that into yar wound. Yahp. Just like me sainted mother.” [horrible infection intensifies]
(Especially useful if all healing magic is the result of Faustian bargaining. All healing magic should be the result of Faustian bargaining.)

Dealing with addictive substances:

Rather than dicking around with specific quantities - and since getting properly trashed is an inexact science - drugs (drug-like potions, all things in Narcosa) are purchased in abstract quantity of a stash.
When using, roll a Save vs Breath Weapon (hah) to avoid burning through an entire stash.


So I've added a tip jar to the blog, in the form a Patreon Campaign.

If you've gotten any worth out of these monsters, wizards, and classes and stuff, please consider donating. Any amount would be greatly appreciated and help to ensure I am able to keep doing this (seeing as this is now one of my few sources of income).



Monday, February 8, 2016

(fuck) The Obedient Place

"There, once and ever, lay a place of perfect obedience. A park-like land of rolling greens, golden oaks, unbreakable fealty, it shall not ever change. It cannot ever change.

"There will always be a vulpine Queen. Two ursine Dukes will bristle and binge. And the cygnine Countesses? Four castled ponds require four of them too. How could less than eight feline Barons hope to adequately hate their master Swans? Still will there stand sixteen equine Knights, in violent defense of the realm. Not even murder may keep these mares from their duty.

"But what of the coal-eyed slaves? 

"What of them? They could not count themselves; they could not care unless you asked them to… why would you bother?"


Would it be fun to adventure in a place of perfect, unbreakable order?

Of course! Adventuring is fun by nature: hyperviolent pseudo-medieval tragicomedy, always fun.

Besides, the unbreakable is meant to be broken. In the semiotic slippage of communication, there is always room for error to become reward. 

The agile minds of players not in actual mortal danger, become the furnaces of insane genius, wild improbable risk yielding unthinkable reward. (Failure results in dire and preposterous consequence, of course.)

The players will find that slip in your words and twist until the whole engine snaps. The murdersome vagrants will throw themselves bodily into the machine until its gears are choked in bone, 

Or maybe they won't. I don't know, but I bet they'd have more fun if they did. 

Watching the world you started burn by the time they finish it, is a rare and wonderful thing. 

There's just nothing more D&D than busting through a wall and skipping most of an adventure. There's nothing more D&D than a botched roll killing the prince the violent fools were sent in to save. 

With D&D, et al., you never know until everyone is dead or kings or Jethro can't make it to the next game.

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

SHARKMAN Dreams...

I dreamt I was playing D&D.

I was about to run a game set in some sort of underwater Gnome civilization. There was a big desalination machine that looked from my map (and my dream imagining of the place) to be totally mechanical rather than magical.

In fact, the whole complex looked scifi-star-trek sleek.

I was trying to run a by-the-book 3.x game for some fucking reason. About five minutes in to me helping the players with chargen, I was just like, “Fuck this! Everybody roll 3d6 in order, we’re going B/X style.”

My buddy Ty kept interjecting, “I wanna play a shark!”

Finally, I was just like “You know I can make up a fun R.C.C.* type class, right? Do you wanna be a sharkman??”

So I started coming up with a class, then there came wakeful noises in real life.


There may be more sharkman somewhere, but as far as anyone knows there is just this one sharkman. Sharkman can’t really say.

Sharkman looks a bit surprised all the time. That’s just shark eyes, though he?she?it? is usually surprised. Sharkman does not understand our dry world.

He? is gullible, easily confused, and utterly alien.

Her? big flipper feet are cumbersome. His? strangely still flipper hands couldn’t be dexterous, could they? It’s never unarmed, not with that big dopey, dangerous grin. It seems curious but this is difficult to discern. That frightening, inhuman, kind of goofy expression never changes.

It’s no wonder the possibly innocent or possibly bloodthirsty thing fell in with the worst sort of crowd…

HD – d8
Saves – 18 across the board. All drop by 1 every other level.
Advance as Dwarf.
Sharkman does not start out with the usual 1/6 in skills.
Sharkman is never disarmed. 1d8 bite attack. In water, he adds his level to the usual +1 BAB. On land, she adds ½ her level rounded down.
Sharkman’s cold, thick, unfeeling flesh essentially functions as leather armor.
Sharkman moves at ¾ of normal speed, but swims twice as fast.
Sharkman can smell blood from 100 yards away on land, 1 mile away in water.
Sharkman can sort of talk, in a gurgling, raspy, disconcerting way. Player must choose and abide by a 10 word speaking vocabulary for the character. Each level, add another 1d4 words.
Sharkman does not understand.

*Apparently I dream in Rifts lingo.

Saturday, January 2, 2016


What does this devil demand? Your pleasure.

How does it work? All actions that are not in immediate avoidance of pain, must be justified by the player. (I would just accept whatever rationalization he/she comes up with… The point is to keep the player thinking about this mistake.)

Why? The demon doesn’t mind being summoned. In fact, you broke a banishment with your exhortive invitation. Mortal pleasure is a hot commodity on both this and the other side. Why wouldn’t a devil want some? If nothing else, it feels good.


What does this angel demand? A pilgrimage to the home of a child with a long suffering disease.
How does it work? The angel asks you to take it to the child’s home. That it may reap the suckling soul, and end the torment all around.

Why? It is an angel of bittersweet relief and genuine condolence. It exists to produce these experiences. The reality is the babe would have lived a dozen more years, many moments of pain surely. Nevertheless, these millions of aches were bought at the expense of thousands of smiles.

How will you know? A minor angel of penitent regret has been following in the other angel’s wake for ages. It appears as an accusatory ghost 1d8 nights later. A dead toddler declaiming pitifully that you had it falsely slain is a hell of thing to witness.


What does this fairy demand? Your voice, but you will only be voiceless for a day.

How does it work? Character can’t talk, duh.

Why? It’s a fucking fairy.

The twist: you don’t get your voice back but a voice back. Specifically that of a:
1} duck,
2} bear,
3} songbird,
4} donkey,
5} burbling brook, or
6} parrot (character restricted to a 10 word vocabulary, must ham it up).


So I've added a tip jar to the blog, in the form a Patreon Campaign.

If you've gotten any worth out of these monsters, wizards, and classes and stuff, please consider donating. Any amount would be greatly appreciated and help to ensure I am able to keep doing this (seeing as this is now one of my few sources of income).