Actually a humanoid otyugh would be pretty f*^%ing disgusting, so scratch that one.
"Oh, I beg to differ..." ;-]
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"Looks like a great place for a summer home! And I appreciate the image accompanying this real-estate investment opportunity." 
Worst... alchemist... bomb... ever.Why not put plants in urinals that ARE being used? Or equip men's floors with potted plants! Yay druids!Two words: splash damage. "I don't know. The idea's kinda growing on me...heh."
I have it on good authority that round three involves creating a new STD. "No problem. Sign me up."
Is there a single template out there, that you haven't yet applied to a stirge? "Hmmm...lemme think..." "Ummm...no."
::evil grin:: "Excellent! Memorymaker? Please show him the way..."
You hear that b%*~!es, all I'm sayin is the better be a ton of Birthday Cake up in here when I come rollin' out (Ice cream cake or Cheesecake are preferred none of that cheap frosting crap, if you're going frosting it'd better be fondant or buttercream) "Ohhhh, I've got your cake right here." ::evil grin::
Awww. "It's okay. If you want in, I can get you in. You don't mind sneaking up through the sewers, do you?"
I'm putting together a Weal or Woe submission featuring two Korvosa-based NPCs: an information broker and a crimelord, both helping to fill the power vacuum left in the wake of events in CotCT, before the Cerulean Order can consolidate control of the city's underworld... "Oh, really?" "How...interesting..." ::narrows eyes::
"Two words. Variant otyughs." :-D
Very tasty. Who knew goblin brains could be such a delicacy. "I did..." :-D
Also practical when the food fight starts :D "My favorite part..."
"I find this interpretation interesting, if not amusing..."
*nervous whisper* "He knows!" "You know, for a paltry sum, a few of my henchmen could eliminate him for you..."
No, Homer is worse, much worse ::laughing:: "Ah, thank you...I was thinking..." "Ooooh, doughnuts!"
Oh, lordy, now I hear Homer's voice out of Gulga ::shuddering:: It can get worse! :)~ "Is that better than Jabba the Hutt?"
I might cry 'fowl' if the right avatar pops in to the guildhall, but not 'foul'. ;-D "I could cry foul for you." "Because...you know...if anyone understands the meaning of the word 'foul?' Who better than a half-fiend otyugh?" ;-D
"It's not dirty." "Trust me." "I would know."
So he should vote for me twice. (And, by 'me', I mean 'Trevor'). "Trevor? Who the heck is Trevor? See? Bracht not only has a physical multiplicity going on, he's also suffering from split personalities. Clearly, not a 'person'...and besides, singling out a vote for someone based on their species is just...well, specist! We otyughs have been getting a bad rap for a long time now just because we're different from everyone who walks on two legs! So I must protest the assignment of a vote based on that criteria. Where's the ACLU when I need them?"
I think you have to stick two stoppers in his eyes. Once the molten metal starts flowing inward, he kind of just broils himself.Technically, I said person, and, technically, Bracht is a person. So, I'm switching my vote to Bracht. "Oh, come now. He's got a thousand grafts of second-hand body parts on him. Technically, that makes him an entire 'people' not a 'person'..." ;-D
I'll vote for the person that describes a good way to bake Kardam. For the bake-off vote, that is. "Oh, that's easy. First, we call down a meteor from the sky. And then, as long as Kardam's at ground-zero, I can assure you he'll turn out quite toasty!"
It pains me to hear comments like this! Honoured judges, how can you sit idly by while the voters are in agony! In order to make their choices easier, I hereby call for an immediate intra-round Villain Bake-Off and Fashion Show! "Hmmmm...I know I can make a pretty mean mud-pie. Well...mostly mud, of course." "But in terms of fashion, ummm...how can I say this...well, I've never found anything that doesn't make me look fat."
"Shortly after you bathe...in something other than excrement." "Bathe?! Pssshhh..."
"You humans. Always taking the long road. There! Zestfully clean..."
"So...what's for dinner? Think we can order a mushroom and anchovie pizza to go with the beer?" "Ooooh! Pickled eyeballs?! Awesome!" :-D
"So...when's the sleepover?" ;-D
I was thinking Gulga but, really any of the disease spreading villains. Flesh eating diseases really creep Bracht out. He's gotta keep it clean. "I'm living proof that you don't, in fact, 'gotta keep it clean'..." "And yes, that means your mothers lied to you about bath-time...potty-time...brushing your teeth...and a host of other subjects that I'm far too busy to get into at this point."
So, ... what are your villains making for the potluck? "Are you sure you want to know?" "Hah! I kid..." "No really, it's just a mushroom dish..." "And for dessert...well, it's a pudding...mostly."
You use hands to write with? I thought you otyugh's had flippers or something. "Tentacles..." "They're called tentacles." "But more frequently, I choose to write using my hand of the apprentice. Magic is a wonderful thing."
Yes, Brimback...dump him over there. No, I don't pretend to understand what Mr. Spicer is babbling on about. What exactly is a stat-block and what does 'Round Three' have to do with his plans? These are questions you should take care to ask him...maybe after you peel a bit of skin from him to get his attention? Just be sure to bring it to me. I skipped breakfast this morning... Oh! Hello again! What? There's more of you down here asking questions of me? I swear, someone should seal off the hideout before it becomes a tourist attraction! I could do without these disruptions. Still, I suppose I do have some time to spare. ...the otyugh is a classic creature, which I've seen much use of in modules, but which I've never seen used as a villain, which is a shame. I too would agree that we otyughs are quite classic. We've been around a long time. A bit underappreciated, really, in this advanced age. Once my plans reach fruition, though, I'm sure we'll make a pronounced comeback...a meteoric rise, really. What? No. I have nothing to do with calling down meteors from the sky. Why do you ask? ...his idea of opulance probably involves a goodly layer of filth. Well, I really view myself as more of a multilayered renaissance otyugh, actually. Generally speaking, I clean myself up far more than my less-evolved brethren. After all, you can only cloak such smells for so long, you know? That's why I find it's better to clean up a bit before meeting with my underlings. Then, I can save my illusions for more important deceptions. Of course, like anyone, I do enjoy a good soak in a mostly-mud bath now and then. It certainly helps me relax after a long day. The closest thing to a flaw I can see, is that he's poised for Jabba the Hutt jokes... Jabba? The Hutt? Never heard of him. Is he a bard, perhaps? An entertainer with a flair for joke-telling? No? ...very Dr. No indeed... Doctor No? Where do you people come up with these ridiculous sounding names? And to think, some still question my own surname! How can they be critical, if titles like Jabba the Hutt and Dr. No are commonplace? I think I've got at least one player I can "count on" to make a Jabba reference the moment she finds out the big crime-boss is actually a huge, rubbery, inhuman thing with a rat-like sidekick... Ah, well see...I'm obviously different! I don't have a rat-like sidekick (unless you count Brimback, and he masquerades as a human far more often than a rat). Instead, I have a bat-like sidekick. Memorymaker here is a stirge. A very intelligent one, mind you. And if your friend wishes to make jokes about me, perhaps we could persuade her otherwise by introducing her to him. I'm sure she'd see the differences almost immediately once he gets attached. In fact, I imagine Memorymaker would grow quite 'attached' to her. You don't mind sacrificing a bit of her blood to get the point across do you? Does anyone else remember the old computer version of "Curse of the Azure Bonds"? You had to negotiate with Neo-otyughs in the sewers to escape from the first city... I'm afraid I don't own one of those magical devices. I only manage to post here through my spells. But I certainly like the sound of what you're describing. I'm terrified by what you're going to unleash on your fellow competitors in the villain lair round, and the adventure round. Don't make them cry too much. Right now, the only one crying will be Mr. Spicer. His attempt to escape was cut short when he slipped and fell. Brimback's got him trussed up tighter than a spring chicken at the moment. So don't be expecting anything more from him about me or my lair. We've got to exercise tighter information control down here. And I intend to see to that immediately. I think Gulga could have a large and long-running impact on Golarion. He has a lot of fans out here. Well...hmmm...thank you very much. I'll admit, I'm not completely above flattery and adoring fans, as long as their adoration is well-placed. And, as long as it's placed in me, it's certainly appropriate. Even so, I really should be on my way. In order for me to have a 'large and long-running impact on Golarion,' I need to devote my time to that effort. Now, Memorymaker will see all of you out. Right this way. And don't worry, he's already gorged himself on Mr. Spicer's blood. So he shouldn't be too hungry. Nevertheless, I'd recommend against tarrying. He gets quite ravenous sometimes...such a glutton, really! Now, where'd I put my spellbook...
Escaped! What do you mean he escaped?!? Brimback! Remind me again, what do I pay you for? *sigh* C'mon...let's see if Memorymaker can track him down.
I'm actually quite eager to answer some of the questions asked so far...and to share more about how and why I put together this specific villain concept. But I'll certainly wait until the voting period has ended...and possibly the next as well, because I don't want anything I might say about Gulga to impact the "stat-block" or "lair" voting down the road if we're asked to use our same villain in succeeding rounds....But, yeah...I'm very eager to talk about this guy. Greetings to those who blissfully dwell in the light of day, caring not for what lurks in the dark, damp, fetid places of your own making! Against my better judgement I am compelled to respond to some of the many questions you have posed in this forum. Unfortunately, the human male you know as Neil Spicer is otherwise 'indisposed' and currently finds himself entertained by a few of my better henchmen for daring to reveal so much about our operations. With that in mind, further enlightenment about my exact capabilities is better left for another day...preferrably after the devoted followers of Cyth V'sug have wrested this mortal plane from your control and lowered it into the Abyss. But, until that day comes...and since the proverbial cat is obviously out of the bag about my identity...I shall endeavor to set a few things straight. When the voting is over you should tell us if you had a city in mind when you wrote Gulga up. I think most people just think Korvosa... I should probably refrain from telling you the exact location of my lair. It is true that a city like Korvosa could certainly fit the description Mr. Spicer offered. Where else could one find such a plentiful population of otyughs and a school of conjuration that actively dabbles in summoning rituals? All you really need to know is, yes, my mother unknowingly consumed the spores of a demonic minion. And if it weren't for the ineptitude of young conjurers and their petty rivalries, I might likely have never been born. Let every apprentice take note: the ritual used for consorting with devils doesn't hold the same abjurative properties when applied to demons...so, know what you're summoning before you start the incantation. The students failed to learn this lesson. Thus, my 'father' immediately broke free of the entirely inappropriate circle meant to bind him. And, in the ensuing chaos, caused quite a stir upon school grounds before one of the masters laid him low. Then, in their haste to hide what transpired that night, those tasked with cleaning up the mess took the easy shortcut of dumping his remains into the sewer. But, if I've learned anything in my lifetime, it's to be very careful of that which you discard. It often turns up again in the most disturbing way...and at the most inopportune times. So began my childhood. And so did my lord expand his reach into this world through me. You get docked a nitpick point for not telling us how he became a wizard. Sorcerer with a fiendish bloodline, sure. Maybe his first spellbooks come as a gift from the Fungus Lord? Maybe he kills a wizard and picks it up slowly while he begins to see the destiny laid on him by the circumstances of his birth. Alas, I wish it were so simple. But, no, my first spellbook came to me quite by accident...like so much discarded trash, actually. One of those same foolish arcane students apparently fell victim to a gang of thugs who dumped his body in the sewers. It's funny how often that happens down here...but I digress... Glad for the meal, I was also somewhat surprised to find much of the apprentice's gear intact. I devoted much self-study to his spellbook, teaching myself the rudiments of the craft. And, as I grew in strength, I made friends with the derro and drow who sometimes wandered up from the depths below the city. Exchanging services gave me access to more arcane knowledge. And, though I never attended a school of wizardry, I had access to some of the most unfettered minds of magecraft this world has ever known. I must admit I wasn't even aware that otyughs were sentient at all. It is a cruel trick played upon my species that others view us with such ignorance or disdain. Just because we dwell in the sewers and feast upon all manner of organic waste, doesn't mean we're any less sentient...any less capable...than those of your own race who willingly debase themselves. If my minion, Brimback, were here, he could certainly testify to the nature of your kind. They easily take to the fungal inhalers we sell upon the streets...eager for that extra 'high' no matter the damage it might do to their minds. So, sentience doesn't equal intelligence or wisdom. You can find all of those things in some creatures and entirely missing in others. In my estimation, I am living proof that otyughs are capable of displaying them all. And, when I'm done with preparing this plane for my lord, Cyth V'sug, I will ensure your species is depleted of them instead. Back in the day, neo-otyughs were pretty smart (as smart as humans, at any rate). I'm kind of sad they've been rolled into the base creature. But there's nice historical precedent for more powerful, smarter otyughs. Rah for old-school! Occasionally, I run across a human that surprises me. And you are clearly such an individual. I too have found evidence of a greater evolution of my species...and I am now attempting to reinvoke it. Given your obvious enthusiasm for supporting such an outcome, you might be interested to know we still have openings in my organization if you are so inclined to join... ...ooh, is he seeking a mate? or planning on “building” one? [delicious shudder]... I'll admit it is sometimes lonely here in the dark. Occasionally, I yearn for a consort at my side, but haven't yet found my equal in the fairer gender of my species. So, yes, I am unashamed to say I have endeavored to 'build' a better mate. And there are encouraging signs of progress in that regard. Setting up a mystic theurge? I prefer not to answer that question at this time. It wouldn't do to give away all my secrets or my plans for the future. But check back here at a future date, and perhaps once my plans are closer to fruition, I can further enlighten you on this subject. I couldn't get around the fact that he's an otyugh. Cool description, but I just kept thinking "It's an otyugh". That's quite alright. I prefer for your species to continue thinking of me in that regard. I will prove their doom long before they discern the true danger I pose. The intelligent otyugh mastermind is interesting, but I'm not a big fan of Cyth-v'sug. It isn't necessary to become a fan of Cyth-V'sug. His plans only call for you to become subservient to him. On the Cyth v'sug note though, I am wondering if this villain maintains contacts with Treerazer. Ah, you mean the traitorous fiend who tried to usurp my lord's dominion? Like my lord, I am aware of Treerazer's presence on this plane. He's carved out quite a hole in the elves' precious forest. But he does so for his own benefit, not to usher this plane into the Abyss. Nevertheless, he serves his purpose in the greater plan of Cyth-V'sug. By keeping the elves occupied, it limits what that potent species can do to oppose us. And, with others assuming Treerazer represents the whole of my master's will on this plane, it allows me to operate virtually unnoticed below every major population center throughout the world. As a result, I will be my lord's favorite when he claims this plane. Not Treerazer. I was always so sad that I'd never see a beholder masterminding a city's underworld in Golarion but now I no longer feel the loss of the icon with this piece of work. I am unfamiliar with this 'beholder' of which you speak. Perhaps it is a creature bound to another realm? Ohhh the abyssal ones seem to be tugging at my heartstrings tonight. Especially since I'm currently running with a plot that involves an experiment-gone-wrong right now... How delightful! I'm equally interested in the notion you would find me capable of tugging at your heartstrings, as well as your apparent vocation as a midwife. I can forsee a place for you among my experiments...or as a handmaiden to deliver my most recent progeny. And, for the record, there's no such thing as an 'experiment-gone-wrong'...they're all just happy little accidents. Reckless Ratings...Concept4...Content4...Coolness5...Credibility4...Clarity4...Total Score21... Ah! A numerologist! Excellent. I give your assessment a passing grade as well...for now. The origin story is terrific, and yet concise enough that you still have plenty of room to talk about...his activities and goals, his minions and motivations. Yes, perhaps a little too much room to talk about such things? This is why Mr. Spicer currently finds himself being interrogated in a very small room with a tiny metal cage surrounding his head. A cage with a very small door that only barely manages to hold back a feral rat ready to feast upon his eyes if he doesn't divulge how he came by this information about me. Nobody ever suspects the otyughs these days. Think of the chaos that would occur if he was posing as one of Korvosa's trash disposing otyughs! Yes. Evil Genius, indeed. Just think of the chaos if something like that were to happen... Only one, minor quibble -- I first read Cench as Stench (silly human brain) and had to get past the pun... Oh, it's not a pun, my dear. Mr. Spicer's assessment about me was correct. I am self-named. And, as long as you know this much about me, I don't suppose it will hurt to provide the details around why I'm called Gulga Cench. You see, growing up in the sewers as a child, I really had no parents to teach me much about language and words. I'm self-taught in virtually everything. The few otyugh that bore my presence would sometimes talk among themselves about me and our species. We sometimes call ourselves by a different name...the gulguthra. And, in my youth, I took a fancy to the term and shortened it to Gulga. Later, as I grew a bit older and stalked my own fresh meat among the sewer workers and otyugh wranglers who venture down here, I often overheard many of your kind remark..."What a stench! Do you smell that?"...right before I flayed the skin from their bones. Of course, young minds being what they are...I completely misinterpreted the term, leaving out the important consonant...and I came to call myself Cench as well. The childhood nickname has stuck ever since. And I don't mind it so much. It's as much a part of who I am as the heritage of Cyth-V'sug. The origin, the description, the methods, all win over my innate notion of the "I like to eat poop" otyugh cliche. I'm glad to hear that, Todd. Because in all honesty, most otyugh don't prefer to eat your vile waste. True, we can subsist on it...much like you could get by on bread and water, I suppose. But I much prefer the meat of flesh and the wine of blood. And, for the time being, I deem it necessary for the otyugh living in the sewers to continue disposing of your offal, if for no other reason than to maintain a semblance of normalcy while I carry out my plans. Of course, now that Mr. Spicer has blown the lid off our operation, all of that may have to change. ...what's this guy's arcane penmanship going to be like? It's quite good actually. I won't go into the exact details for how my physiology enables me to scribe my spells. But I wouldn't be where I am today if I weren't equally capable in that regard. The only problem I have is wanting to know more... I'm afraid much of that will simply have to wait. This is all I have time to share. After all, your world isn't going to conquer itself. I have much to do. And I could do without this distraction. Now, please excuse me. I must go ask Brimback to keep Mr. Spicer's screams to a minimum so I can concentrate. "The eyes! Go for the eyes, Boo!" |