3.5 Loyalist |
2 people marked this as a favorite. |
This is still going, wow.
95) Okay, you admit it, your uncle is a bit weird. A wizard who lives in sewers is a tad odd. One that researches slimes, moulds, insects and disease is even stranger than the norm. Your respectable family always kept their distance and hated his visits, coming out of the sewers smelling of filth and decay, but you got along well with your uncle his oddness contrasting with the rather boring city of your upbringing. In your curiosity of ants and other insects, ol' uncle saw a bit of himself in you.
That is why he promised his most powerful magic item to you. A spear long in the making. The first one would go to you, and the next a gift to the kingsguard.
It has been two months since you spoke with uncle, and such a long delay between visits is unusual for him. The city has been attacked by some sort of sewer creature, snatching townspeople down to crunch their bones and who knows what else. Adventurers are preparing to head down in force and destroy the creature, you need to go with them to see if uncle is all right.
Laboratory
Your uncle maintained a number of rooms down in the sewers, built doubtless with magic, and in breach of city planning guidelines. This mini complex was for a long time safe and isolated off from the general filth, but the entrance way has been broken down, many of the caged monsters eaten or battered against the walls, the place covered in filth. In the corner of the study you hear a scratching, it is a spear crawling across the floor, very slowly.
Shortspear of the Rot Grub
This +2 shortspear has a most unusual head, it is a rot grub fused to a stone haft. It writhes towards living opponents facing it. When it strikes an opponent, the spear is possessed of a will of its own and slithers into an opponent, the stone handle shrinking into nothingness. The injured opponent has 1 round to remove the grub with a dC20 heal check requiring appropriate tools or a tiny weapon. Failure results in 2d6 con being lost each round. If removed, the grub becomes a full shortspear again, if a host is killed the grub will re-emerge in 1 minute and then become the full spear again.
The spear is quite resistant to damage, but if sundered the spear is re-forged by feeding the grub head or its total parts, to a living host, thus killing them with 1d6 con loss per round, and the grub emerges 1 minute later, returning to its original appearance.
Writhing, ever-writhing, do not keep it near you when you rest.
Goth Guru |
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96) Your paranoid grandfather made a spell called protection from grubs. You go visit him, and find out he had been dead of old age for weeks. Since you were the only person his golems and wards would let in and out, you had to bring him to the funeral. You got his many spell books, but his iron golem, Mr. Iron E, follows you around to protect the books. You can store them in Mr. Iron E's chest. Some of the spells are eccentric in the extreme, such as summon soap and water.
Freehold DM |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
97) you have inherited your fathers courtesan. You are just a step shy of nobility in your land, so it is more than socially acceptable, it is very much expected of you. Your new courtesan(hell, your first one ever) mourned your fathers death with you at the wake and skipped the funeral, as expected, but she has been your constant companion ever since . Her vivaciousness and charm were a feather in your fathers cap at every party he attended, and it is very much the same for you - she has helped you negotiate court with ease and has even breathed new life into your business, which was going nowhere until she showed up.
Then the headaches started. Slowly at first, but then more insistently. Only recently have they started to affect fect your sleeping patterns, and you find they have made her more a part of your life than before as you are literally spending every waking moment with her, retiring to bed not long after she does, which is when your headaches start. You find yourself dreaming more and more of your father of late, who is by turns maniacally happy and crushingly depressed that he is now "free". You jolted out of bed after one of these dreams to find that she had snuck into bed with you, and was lightly dozing with her head on your shoulder. You slowly eased yourself from her, and found that the impression her cheek made on your bare flesh has left it raw and inflamed.
You are not quite sure what to do next...
3.5 Loyalist |
Everyone wants the grub spear!
Oh... that sounds wrong.
Spread it to the four winds, I think my players will find it in 2 sessions, kekekekekekekekekeke.
It is also one of the few items that can be traded for two of the three darts suicide (hallucinations causing a save vs. suicide), from a very shady old adventurer Winnow the dirty, master of dirty-fighting.
Turin the Mad |
95a) Your are impervious to rot grubs and similar attacks/effects (such as a scarab of death) thanks to your crazy old uncle and extensive funny tasting alchemical 'treatments' as you grew up. Now that you're grown and toting the soon-to-be-notorious grub spear, you have rights to wrong, angels to afflict agonizing death upon and a certain bargain with Asmodeus to weasle your way out of.
99) Your crazy elderly relative known locally as Old Man Fu has been disappearing for two days a month every month for as long as you and your family can remember. One day not long after you became an adult certain ... signs ... made themselves manifest. Then a package arrived on your porch. Inside the package is a compass that most certainly doesn't point North.
SquirmWyrm |
And now, something special for number 100
100: Deification.
On your 18th birthday, (or whatever age members of your race are considered mature) You discover that you are in fact the mortal child of a god, and you have the chance to become a god once you've shed your mortal coil... IF and only if you can prove worthy of it by leading a long life of pureheartedness... or whatever the tenants of dear old dad's philosophy are...
Cursed and Geas'd |
102: Your father raised you at least when he wasn't away for days on end or locked up with his studies in the attic talking to himself in tongues. You'd asked around the neighbourhood about your dad but the other villagers would just look sad and ashamed, they told you your dad was a good man and no your family isn't cursed.
Your father has passed away and all that's left to you is a scroll, you're certain it's not magically because dad didn't do magic and it's written in his hand writing. On it is the longest word you've ever seen, you don't know how to pronounce it nor even what language it's in. Beneath the word however in simple common "My child, this is the name of the fiend that possessed your mother, the TRUE name of the fiend. The fiend alone isn't important, it's the Hero of [famous name/title] that is, they ran your mother through when she was possessed. It stopped the demon for a while it ended your mother forever. It's taken me all this time to identify the fiends true name and now I suspect I do not have time to finish what needs to be done. It is my wish that you summon the fiend, force it to possess that so called hero and run them both through. It is a momentous task that shall not be easy, do so, for your mother."
You inherited vengeance and revenge, will you be villainous or a better type of hero.
Goth Guru |
And now, something special for number 100
100: Deification.
On your 18th birthday, (or whatever age members of your race are considered mature) You discover that you are in fact the mortal child of a god, and you have the chance to become a god once you've shed your mortal coil... IF and only if you can prove worthy of it by leading a long life of pureheartedness... or whatever the tenants of dear old dad's philosophy are...
You need a teacher of heros. Disney's Hercules is a mine of good ideas.
SquirmWyrm |
SquirmWyrm wrote:You need a teacher of heros. Disney's Hercules is a mine of good ideas.And now, something special for number 100
100: Deification.
On your 18th birthday, (or whatever age members of your race are considered mature) You discover that you are in fact the mortal child of a god, and you have the chance to become a god once you've shed your mortal coil... IF and only if you can prove worthy of it by leading a long life of pureheartedness... or whatever the tenants of dear old dad's philosophy are...
That's exactly what I was going for there, GG. However, it is up to the GM to determine what, if any, advisor and teacher finds the child.
TimD |
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As it appears a decision was made already to go over the 100… a few more:
104. After years of silence your biological father finally acknowledged you on his deathbed, surrounded by witnesses with infallible proof of your paternity. Unfortunately, he was riddled with debt and far below the station you were born into. Now the rest of your brothers and sisters seem to be shunning you, your mother has vanished under mysterious circumstances, and your dog just died in convulsions after taking a bite of your dinner…
105. You have inherited the soul-gem of one of the most renowned necromancers in history from your grandfather, a former paladin who wrestled with the morality of freeing the trapped soul of an evil so great that it would surely be returned to life against that of holding a soul trapped. He died choking on a prune and now you’ve lost both your appreciation for moral arguments involving paladins as well as your taste for prunes. Both your regularity and your decisiveness have both been affected by his loss and your inheritance…
106. You have inherited a pair of slightly mildewed, sentient and telepathic slippers. They refuse to tell you their powers and have thus far used their telepathy to drive anyone attempting to discern their purpose to distraction. Though they speak with male voices, they answer to Ethel and Irma and wish to continue to spend their existence lounging near a fireplace and nowhere near any “vile, sweaty feet”.
107. The archenemy of your family has finally died after generations of feuding between your families, yours is the only one remaining. Unfortunately, he very clear instructions to the executors of his estate – the hundreds of thousands of gold they had saved will be used to assist orphans and the poor, doled out quarterly for the next 200 years, so long as you bear the hated sword, Childrensbane – a sentient chaotic evil weapon capable of self-casting message spells to the clergy of Abadar. Should you and the next three generations after you fail to bear Childrensbane the money will instead be used to purchase slaves to be sacrificed to demons with the instruction to hunt down and destroy you and the rest of your family. Disturbingly, Childrensbane seems to have taken quite a liking to you and has said you have “potential”…
108. You’ve inherited a bridge… in a desert… with the taxes that are due upon it... family tradition holds that so long as it remains in your family, the djinn of the desert will hold to their peace treaty, but the new government neither knows nor cares about the djinn and insist upon their money, which you don’t have…
109. You’ve inherited a lich’s phylactery. Nothing is known about the lich. The phylactery resists any and all divination magics cast upon it. You’ve been advised that if the lich is alive when the phylactery is destroyed, it can just make another one – and it will be VERY angry. If it dies, however, odds are it will reform from the closest available body.
-TimD
cnetarian |
110. When you are 18 years old your parents call you in to have a talk. They reveal that they are not your real parents but when you were an infant a man wearing a hooded cloak which covered his face brought you to them and asked them to raise you as their own, and to give you a box on your birthday. The box contains a small fortune in gems, a dagger and a letter.
Zachrid |
111. You've inherited the small town house of your late uncle Geralt Lambsbottom. Unfortunately he neglected his humble estate so much over the past ten years, that it will be demolished as soon as the lease for the plot it stands on has expired. Repairing and renewing the lease it might be an (expensive or time-consuming) option, but at first you have get rid of all the junk your uncle hoarded and deal with the vermin in the basement, the attic and anything in between.
The only remarkable thing is the room where you stayed as a child all those years ago for a few days. Now it is sealed with a big padlock and unlike the rest of the house it is tidy and untouched, but very dusty. Even that ancient and horrible thing of a wardrobe is still there. Back in the day you couldn't close an eye at night, because you believed that the boogeyman waited behind those dark wooden doors and that he would come and take you into a nightmare, if you fall asleep before dawn... but that was just the over-imagination of a child, right?
Addendum:
112. You've inherited “Frank”.
“Frank” is the Clockwork Servant (see Bestiary 3) of you “aunt” Ami Wrenchpiler, who was not really your aunt, but for some reason you were always her favorite “nephew”/”niece”. Before she died, she was a skilled savant, engineer and alchemist, until her last experiment lead to some unexpected and very final results. Although the other heirs already bagged everything of value from her house (no matter if it was left to them or not) Frank seems refuse to serve anyone else but his new master – you. To a trained eye the brazen construct seems to be very elaborate, even for a clockwork servant and soon enough will exhibit behaviors a mindless automaton shouldn't be able to....
EldonG |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
112. When you were a child, you sometimes visited your uncle's inn. Many years have passed, and now, a letter arrives by courier...your uncle has passed away, and the inn is yours.
It's in an area that doesn't see many visitors, not exactly a tourist attraction...and it's a lonely road that leads to it. Your uncle would have gone bankrupt ages ago, but for one thing - the nicest suite upstairs has been rented out...in perpetuity...by an elderly man.
Why, you remember him from when you were a child.
It seems he hasn't aged a day. He IS human...isn't he?
Dabbler |
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113. Your family's probate lawyers have contacted you with details of a provision in Great Uncle Wallerby's will...it seems his young nephew fancied himself an adventurer who purchased a reputedly haunted ruin and went a-delving to see what he could find. Well that explains why you never met Uncle Uwain the Unwise, at any rate. At any rate, the Will stipulates that if any eligible heir racks up a verifiable track-record as an adventurer, they should inherit the place and a sizable sum - provided they can find out exactly what DID happen to Uwain...if they don't make the attempt, they get disinherited. Looks like you will be looking into Castle Doomshadow, abode of Sir Tane D'Eath very soon...
Goth Guru |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
114. You inherited a strange antique shop. All the things in it look masterwork, and might be magic. GM notes. The player's character's uncle made a deal with a devil for lots of money. All the items are evil. The other PCs show up a week later tasked with finding the items and taking them out of circulation.
TheAntiElite |
6 people marked this as a favorite. |
115. For reasons both opaque and inexplicable, you have come into the ownership of a House of Ill Repute...only, in this case, the Repute in question is far from Ill. Specifically, the prior owner - a charming woman of crimson locks, mildly inebriated Taldan affect, and renowned desirability - appears not to have died, but opted to pass her establishment on to what the legal documents describe as 'one with the acumen, insight, and wherewithal to handle the joys and responsibilities of keeping my House a Home.' There are a few working girls (and gentlemen, surprisingly) of varied ages and ethnicities, who lament the Lady's departure, but emphatically insist that she has not joined the Choir Invisible. The place is inordinately profitable (easily enough to change one's standards of living, even if one just chose to live in the apartments above the establishment), somehow managing to be affordable to both the bourgeois and the nobility. Interestingly enough, there is a surprising tendency for the place to attract clergy of pleasure, fertility, and nature deities, and like-minded worshipers, but the brothel is a secular establishment, with a rule against excessive proselytization.
The bigger problem, to call it that, about the place is that it attracts VERY unusual clientele. Mostly adventurers, of course, but then there's the truly esoteric cases that show up; barbarians nearing the end of their quests to achieve majority, wizards requiring components for spells that might be frowned upon in more polite society that the employees are happy to supply, an exceptionally erudite ogre who pays alternatingly in gold and performing bouncer service, a unicorn that shows up every new moon with a satchel of coin and (after paying at the front) takes a random girl to a room and simply rests his head in her lap overnight, and a talking hunting dog who claims to be a rejected familiar who became a halfling's mount for a time, before the two had to go their separate ways due to differing philosophies - he speaks with a slight accent, but mostly comes by to buy alcohol, rather than to seek female companionship. If he doesn't bring his own funds, someone is usually willing to buy his drinks, because a talking dog is always good for business.
Dwarfakin |
117. So your uncle dies and you are his only living relative to inherit his estate. when you get to the estate you notice that it's not in the best of condition but you've definitly seen worse. Oh and turns out that you aren't the only living relative. Guess who now has custody of your infant cousin?
Goth Guru |
118. Your brother and his wife passed away under suspicious conditions. At the reading of the will, your niece and 2 nephews inherit the house. You, your friends, and this creepy uncle you never met before can stay as guests, and get any hidden treasures they can find. You are supposed to look out for the kids, and you found this strange amulet the first night. It looks like an iron E on a silver chain, and it lets you read minds. The creepy uncle keeps thinking of doing everyone else in so he can inherit the entire estate.
Freehold DM |
120- For some unknown reason, the elders in your family have committed ritual suicide at the same time, leaving you in charge of (2d4) estates, and more capital than you know what to do with. You must first oversee the last rites and burial of your family members, which number in the dozens and is a quest that will take you all over the world, before seeing as much as a copper, however.
Freehold DM |
115. For reasons both opaque and inexplicable, you have come into the ownership of a House of Ill Repute...only, in this case, the Repute in question is far from Ill. Specifically, the prior owner - a charming woman of crimson locks, mildly inebriated Taldan affect, and renowned desirability - appears not to have died, but opted to pass her establishment on to what the legal documents describe as 'one with the acumen, insight, and wherewithal to handle the joys and responsibilities of keeping my House a Home.' There are a few working girls (and gentlemen, surprisingly) of varied ages and ethnicities, who lament the Lady's departure, but emphatically insist that she has not joined the Choir Invisible. The place is inordinately profitable (easily enough to change one's standards of living, even if one just chose to live in the apartments above the establishment), somehow managing to be affordable to both the bourgeois and the nobility. Interestingly enough, there is a surprising tendency for the place to attract clergy of pleasure, fertility, and nature deities, and like-minded worshipers, but the brothel is a secular establishment, with a rule against excessive proselytization.
The bigger problem, to call it that, about the place is that it attracts VERY unusual clientele. Mostly adventurers, of course, but then there's the truly esoteric cases that show up; barbarians nearing the end of their quests to achieve majority, wizards requiring components for spells that might be frowned upon in more polite society that the employees are happy to supply, an exceptionally erudite ogre who pays alternatingly in gold and performing bouncer service, a unicorn that shows up every new moon with a satchel of coin and (after paying at the front) takes a random girl to a room and simply rests his head in her lap overnight, and a talking hunting dog who claims to be a rejected familiar who became a halfling's mount for a time, before the two had to go their separate ways due to differing philosophies - he...
I would LOVE to know more about this place. Is this your own personal setting/game backdrop or what?
MrSin |
Oh! Nice necro.
121. There's a book with an open mouth and tongue on the front cover. It allows the wearer to translate any language. Surely this has a reason to come into your hands, great destiny, your parents told you so before it fell into your hands!
122. Your mentor passed. He was a great friend with dragons. Probably too good, he said he'd marry the daughter of one. He said you'd marry her if he didn't, and she's very tyrannical... and red. She's a very lovely looking human though, and she does have power... You know what they say about red dragons right? They're hot! Edit: I apologize for the terrible joke...
Inheriting duty is the best kind of inheritance! Makes you work, unless you find a smart way out of it...
Goth Guru |
123. The ritual of becoming has marked you as an alchemist. Your grand uncle's Homunculus, a little blue man, has led you to the hidden room where his lab is. A lot of your family is interested in your grand uncle's formula for turning led into gold. Actually, it's another little blue man named Midas Smurf who's touch turns any living thing into gold.
TheAntiElite |
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I would LOVE to know more about this place. Is this your own personal setting/game backdrop or what?
Answered via PM.
Also part of the reason I was so stoked for Ultimate Campaign.
123. You have inherited...a wedge of cheese. Apparently, it's a wedge of cheese seemingly forgotten by time itself, as it is stony of composure, not-quite reeking (though most certainly strongly scented), and inexplicably prone to leaving oil-soak spots on any and all surfaces.
It also is utterly irresistible to rodent-kind, and possessing it makes them friendly to you, even if you do not give it to them. Touching the wedge to other kinds of cheese cause the contacted cheese to gain similar qualities as the wedge. While the original wedge is non-consumable by most living being, resultant duplicates are intensely savory, otherworldly in flavor, and causes immediate and unrelenting ecstasy when consumed by rodents; normal rats go limp with bliss, while ratkin and wererats must make a DC30 (!) will save to regain coherence and ambient awareness, and still operate at a penalty to reflexes as the memory of the taste lingers in their mouths and flood their senses.
Strangely enough, keeping it on one's person leads to dreams that culminate in a shortness of breath, starry nights, and mysterious eclipses.
Freehold DM |
Freehold DM wrote:I would LOVE to know more about this place. Is this your own personal setting/game backdrop or what?Answered via PM.
Also part of the reason I was so stoked for Ultimate Campaign.
123. You have inherited...a wedge of cheese. Apparently, it's a wedge of cheese seemingly forgotten by time itself, as it is stony of composure, not-quite reeking (though most certainly strongly scented), and inexplicably prone to leaving oil-soak spots on any and all surfaces.
It also is utterly irresistible to rodent-kind, and possessing it makes them friendly to you, even if you do not give it to them. Touching the wedge to other kinds of cheese cause the contacted cheese to gain similar qualities as the wedge. While the original wedge is non-consumable by most living being, resultant duplicates are intensely savory, otherworldly in flavor, and causes immediate and unrelenting ecstasy when consumed by rodents; normal rats go limp with bliss, while ratkin and wererats must make a DC30 (!) will save to regain coherence and ambient awareness, and still operate at a penalty to reflexes as the memory of the taste lingers in their mouths and flood their senses.
Strangely enough, keeping it on one's person leads to dreams that culminate in a shortness of breath, starry nights, and mysterious eclipses.
thank you for the response. Well look into each source mentioned.
Freehold DM |
124. Your uncle was a strange, even for a wizard. He was an avid collector of...things...of all sorts, and regularly enjoyed grossing you out showing you his collection of humors and body parts. You were his favorite niece/nephew, however, as you were never really afraid of him like your brothers were, although you didn't exactly encourage his behavior either. When he passed, it was no surprise to you that you were his only heir, as you do not recall him ever enjoying company of any sort. You expected to get his many THINGS as an inheritance and spent a long time wondering what you were going to do with so much junk, when the executor visited your home only to give you a box marked "snips and snail and [insert Uncle's name here] tails" and a vial of luminous grey liquid. The executor told you using the long, sloping vowels of someone attempting to shackle your will through magic that your uncle's last wishes were to pour the liquid over the collected leavings of your uncle, but you were too stubborn to succumb to such a paltry(and frankly insulting) attempt to influence you. You sent the man off, realizing that he was probably ensorcelled by a spell himself, but took the box and vial into your possession. A quick look in the box revealed bits of hair, toenail clippings and scraps of flesh that probably do indeed belong to your uncle- you think they were clipped from him almost immediately before he perished. The liquid seems to be a powerful regenerating fluid that might indeed bring your uncle back from the dead if it were poured into the box. But without the spell forcing your hand, you cannot help but wonder what would happen if you were to use it on yourself...
Captain Emberwrath |
125. Your grandfather was strange one who always went on about "the crows" now that he's passed you've inherited a strange medallion that seems to glow like fire if you look at the gem in it just right. Ever since then you can't help but notice that there's been a couple of crows hanging around the place.
Probably nothing, but they just keep watching you....with those crow eyes....
Cel'Daren |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
127. As a small-time yet attractive thief on the streets you've always complained how you just needed a good opportunity and you'd show the world! Now you've just inherited leadership of the Thieves Syndicate from your "Uncle" (insert stereotypical Italian mobster name here], who seems to have literally picked you out of a crowd. Suddenly surrounded by hundreds of followers who feel you're not up to the task to leading the Syndicate but obeying out of loyalty to their late leader, the matter is made worse by the letter of inheritance revealing the real purpose of the Syndicate: To maintain the balance of the Underworld, both figuratively and literally, and prevent Those from Below from conquering the Surface.
Add in to the mix one of the most powerful Paladins in the world, a woman strong on righteous vengeance and weak on mercy, wanting the Syndicate destroyed and her very attractive squire joining the attempt; as well as a Mage and Priest twin sibling duo who think they're destined to help save the world! Can you keep Those from Below from destroying everything you know and love, or will the world be crushed under their boot?
Freehold DM |
127. As a small-time yet attractive thief on the streets you've always complained how you just needed a good opportunity and you'd show the world! Now you've just inherited leadership of the Thieves Syndicate from your "Uncle" (insert stereotypical Italian mobster name here], who seems to have literally picked you out of a crowd. Suddenly surrounded by hundreds of followers who feel you're not up to the task to leading the Syndicate but obeying out of loyalty to their late leader, the matter is made worse by the letter of inheritance revealing the real purpose of the Syndicate: To maintain the balance of the Underworld, both figuratively and literally, and prevent Those from Below from conquering the Surface.
Add in to the mix one of the most powerful Paladins in the world, a woman strong on righteous vengeance and weak on mercy, wanting the Syndicate destroyed and her very attractive squire joining the attempt; as well as a Mage and Priest twin sibling duo who think they're destined to help save the world! Can you keep Those from Below from destroying everything you know and love, or will the world be crushed under their boot?
what is this from?
Azten |
128. Everyone enjoyed watching your father cast his wonderful illusions and conjurations, but as you grew older you grew to hate them. Why didn't you have that same magic? He was so... unimaginative! They things you'd do with that magic were endless!
Then he died and you felt an immense, wonderful sensation flood your body as his magic came to you, passed down from parent to child as it had been for generations...
Freehold DM |
1 person marked this as a favorite. |
130- Your late grandfather wasn't always a good man. In his youth he was a violent, petty thug, who was a rising star in the local thieves guild on the collections end of the spectrum. His days consisted of making visits to people who wouldn't pay their debts and encouraging them to do so through all manner of... conversation. Once, business was so frantic that he ended up coming home with the odd tooth still stuck in his meaty knuckles, and he decided to keep it as a memento. He soon had an entire collection of teeth of all sorts- incisors, molars, eyeteeth, you name it. He finally stopped when he had seen enough broken bones to last a lifetime, and decided to take up a legitimate business, and which ended up being quite successful. He never forgot his origins, however, and left a good sized pillbox full of teeth to you as a reminder of where the family fortune came from.