The Black Ziggurat of Jalamere



One More Sighting of the Infamous Black Ziggurat

Since it was first discovered by players in Blair's Planet Algol campaign early in 2010, the Black Ziggurat has appeared in a number of other games, settings and campaigns across the blog-o-sphere. In his post 'The Blackest Tesserzigguract', the idea of a cross-campaign 'Black Ziggurat' that subtly (and sometimes unsubtly) obtruded into all manner of other settings, planes, dimensions, etc. was further elaborated, to wit: There ought to be dozens of these things out there, all of them highly mysterious, hugely dangerous and potentially interconnected -- that last being subject to GM whim.


So there is a mysterious Black Ziggurat out amid the drifting dunes and harsh wastes of Jalamere. It reeks of preternatural power and pre-dates humanity by millions of years...and it is said by nomads and others who've been unfortunate enough to have encountered the place in their travels that the whole place exudes a miasmic influence that spawns nightmares and worse. Hungry spirits and worse things prowl the broken escarpment that forms a semi-natural wall around the Black Ziggurat.


No one sane goes there. No one sane has ever come back.

There are rumors of terrifying hybridized manticore-medusa creatures nesting in the escarpment near-by the Black Ziggurat, but no survivors have returned with any details as of yet.


No one from the surrounding area will willingly lead anyone to this place, except those of the Wultru and Nirizi tribes, but since those particularly unsavory humanoids are far from trustworthy, it may not be wise to hire their services in this regard...


Black Ziggurat Encounter Tables

• Encounters within a 1 mile radius
• Encounters within a 10 mile radius
• Encounters within a 100 mile radius
• encounters within a 1,000 mile radius
• Encounters at the Black Ziggurat
• Writhing Masses & Worse
• Special Encounters (Black Ziggurat)

Endo-Daemons

Endo-Daemons
(Entry-Level Foot-Soldiers)
No. Enc.: 1d4
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 120' (60')
Armor Class: 2
Hit Dice: 2
Attacks: 2 (weapons or kick)
Damage: 1d4/1d6+ poison, or 2d4
Save: F4
Morale: base 6 (plus Summoner's CHAR bonus)

Vaguely humanoid and extremely cunning, the Endo-Daemons are wicked beings spawned within the mad labyrinths of Mudarra, a fractured ante-planar fragment caught-up within the Cerulean Vortex.

Originally, the Endo-Daemons were intended to serve as yet another series of synthetic shock troops in yet another squabble between two adepts, but the Endo-Daemons determined that the most expedient way to carry out their work was to kill their creator. This did in fact end the conflict, and it did conform to the parameters established by their creator who has since become a text-book cautionary example of unbridled hubris coupled with lack of fore-thought. The Endo-Daemons have since gone on to colonize a number of fragmentary planar remnants and generally do not interfere in the matters of other beings unless summoned.

Alas for the Endo-Daemons, they were developed from materials that their creator had pro-actively bequeathed to posterity, and so everything necessary to create or summon these beings is fairly well known and available even to first-year sorcery students. Endo-Daemons have become one of the first creatures that most sorcerers attempt to summon and even after achieving a fairly high level, many spell-casters still rely upon these beings as cheap, literal-minded transplanar mercenaries.

Bowing to the realities of supply and demand, and realizing a good thing when they are caught-up within it, the Endo-Daemons have begun to develop a variety of sub-types including pike-men, archers, petardists, artillerists, and others, all available by way of a simple summoning spell that even the most humble Endo-Daemon foot-soldier can teach to its summoner. For a small fee, of course.

Weak Points

Sometimes things, even people disappear. Other times things, even people, appear from seemingly nowhere. People sometimes speak of things, or people having mysteriously disappeared into thin air. Thinness might be one way to describe the situation, but it is not simply 'air' into or out of which these things disappear or arrive from elsewhere. The boundaries between worlds are far more porous and permeable than many would like to know. For whatever reason, the boundaries between the various strata of reality grow thin, rupture or get entangled or twisted-up somehow. The geometries describing this phenomena are mind-numbingly abstruse and form the basis of numerous sorcerous arts and sciences. The study of Weak Points has long been a fringe discipline, except in those places where they are far too common to be written-off or ignored.

Wermspittle is such a place. Weak Points are an incredibly common feature both in the immediate area surrounding Wermspittle, and all through the city itself as well. The place is littered with the things. Riddled. Like a worm-eaten bit of wood. It was the preponderance of Weak Points in this particular region that drew the attention of the scholars, sorcerers and their backers. Hundreds of cartogrammic surveyors, dowsers and others have descended upon the area over the years, but their wild accounts and fantastic reports were most often dismissed as faulty, sheer lunacy, or even dangerous propaganda instigated by foreign interests.

Everyone who knows anything about Wermspittle knows that the place is haunted and accursed, a festering den of heretics and outlaws, a birth-place of abominations and worse. But it is also a center of learning, healing and more. When one wants to study the sea, they must go where the sea is, and in the case of Weak Points and similar such phenomena, one goes to Wermspittle.

Meddling and Examining...
Weak Points are permeable regions that allow two or more worlds, universes or other such realms to commingle. Blend. Blur. Become resonantly harmonious, aligned or conjunct for a while. Most of the time this effect is on a very small scale and such regions are almost always temporary. Usually. But there are conditions under which a Weak Point can be 'captured' or affixed to a specific point and even tuned or modified so as to allow continuous access to what lies beyond. At least theoretically. Most of the research into such things is guarded closely by those who have gained some measure of hard-won expertise in such matters, often at serious risk and great trouble.

The body of work surrounding Weak Points, Tunnels and associated phenomena (such as the Cold Roads) has grown large and complex over the centuries since the formal establishment of 'Transitional Studies,' and 'Transplanar Reconnaissance,' as part of the established curriculum of the Academy. The Institute for Apocalyptic Studies was originally formed by a cadre of defrocked and excommunicated priests, but has transformed into an organizational body dedicated to the unraveling of the enigma of the so-called Dead Worlds that seem to flock around Wermspittle like flies, if one is to believe the accounts of some explorers and surveyors.

Scholars have trickled in to Wermspittle from across the farthest reaches of the Three Empires and many of the lesser principalities. Most of them at the end of their careers, whether they realize it or not. The sort of work that takes place in Wermspittle is suspect, often illicit, unsanctioned or worse. The stink of freethinking and open inquiry surrounds this place, provoking the disdain, disregard and even outright contempt of more mainstream authorities. No teachers ever leave Wermspittle for other schools. Other colleges and universities ship the intellectual debris discovered within the collections and corpus of otherwise respectable scientists and scholars to one or another of the archives and private libraries at Wermspittle. There is much Academic interest in the Weak Points and all that they imply, reveal or allow access unto within Wermspittle, but outside this region, such things are more often banned and damned by the Orthodoxies and Hierarchies who feel profoundly threatened by such things. That the majority of the science, research and experimentation being performed takes place in or around Wermspittle, a notorious hot-bed of heresies and discredited thinking only compounds the problem. And now, with the wars raging across the frontiers and plague spreading like wildfire even into the very heart of the Sanctumopolis of the Pontifical Triumvirate itself...these are perilous times...and a place like Wermspittle tends to get overlooked by those with more important matters to attend to, leaving only a few fanatics or zealots to contemplate the political utility of such a place and how it might serve their ambitions. Wermspittle has often been useful to a great many ambitious people, as with any discrete and deniable place of exile.

Who Knows...
But in Wermspittle, it is not only the Scholars vying for recognition and academic standing who delve into such matters as the true nature of the Weak Points. Inventors, dreamers, poets and schemers, and many of their ilk have come to this place to explore, to examine, to experiment upon Weak Points among other things. Some of them have reported spectacular successes, others have experienced terrifying failures. Daredevils and religious fanatics have likewise come to Wermspittle to find the way to fabulous, mythical kingdoms, to unlock the paths to any number of paradises or hells. Some seek out the Weak Points in order to escape, others hunt them down looking for answers to impossible riddles. For centuries the people of Wermspittle have learned how to live with the Weak Points, how to make the most of their situation, to mark the comings and goings of recurring Weak Points, to chart out the cycles of the more regular ones and to map out the Near Places and sometimes offer a few cryptic hints regarding certain of the Far Places, to note the Paths, the Trails and the Tunnels and to leave something of an oral tradition behind to remind those who come after as to what has been already seen or spotted along the Otherside of those Weak Points that have proven useful or dangerous, benign or malevolent.  If someone were to successfully gather up all these fragments, collect all this lore into some sort of comprehensive and organized ephemeris, catalog, or almanac, it would be an incredible achievement. So far all the in-fighting and under-handed rivalries between the various experts who might have some sort of a shot at completing such a work has prevented any such things taking place. So far.

For A Price...
It is rumored that even the Midwives know something of these things. Which comes as no surprise to anyone who has spent more than a fortnight in this place. It is said, that for a small fee they might scratch a small map or diagram into the hearth-ashes that will reveal something of the nature of a particular Weak Point, but they are loathe to divulge their secrets. One might also consider consulting the Sewer System Concordance & Cthonic Ephemeris published every October by the Sewer Militia, as it is said that these indispensable almanacs contain an appendix that deals with Weak Points in a fair bit of detail, from a practical stand-point, as one would expect from the Sewer Militia. There used to be a Ley-Hunter's Guide and Dowser's Digest printed annually around hundred years ago or so, but it suddenly ceased publication and has never been officially replaced or revived. Old back-issues of this venerable almanac are much sought-after by those engaged in the exploration of Weak Points, Tunnels or related phenomena, including various discredited Geomantics, Parasurveyors, Dowsers and the Ley-Hunters. Collectors and book-sellers are known to bribe apprentices out hunting Wet Spots and the like for the Corruption Trade for any old books they might uncover in their work within the various Abandoned Properties of the Burned Over District and other such places. The going rate for a decent copy of a Dowser's Digest has been steadily going up, to the point that certain of the collectors have actively interfered with recent attempts to revive the publication.

Opportunities
Weak Points offer Practical Philosophers a chance to learn about the actual structure of the universe and to acquire first-hand experience of things that have been left in the hands of contentious and squabbling theoreticians for far too long. There are few theoreticians who have survived long enough to achieve any sort of tenure at the Academy in Wermspittle. Those who study and explore the Weak Points tend to be among the best and the brightest, but they still have a high attrition rate. The high turn-over rate does mean that there are always openings and opportunities for those drawn to this sort of thing. If you have what it takes. It is not for the faint-hearted.

Bujilli: Episode 13

Bujilli reached out into the shimmering gloom. There was another portcullis before him, but it was even less substantial than the previous one. His hand met with no resistance. The metal rods were ghost-like. Not all there. He smirked ruefully in recognition of the danger. He'd seen this sort of thing before. It was a sort of dead-fall trap, once triggered, the rods would snap into phase and instantly skewer intruders. These sorts of things could penetrate even the best armor and he'd come close to losing a finger to one of these things long, long ago.

It might be possible to sneak past this barrier. He'd done it before. These sorts of things were usually set in place to deter or destroy groups like the small cadre that was under the control of the Zurian Princess behind him. For all he knew, the portcullis had been built by some dead old Zurian. It might not stop her.

Still invisible thanks to his spell, Bujilli looked back up the sloping passage he had just run down. He had thought to escape, to run away, but that looked like it might be too risky. He recalled the look on the Princess' face, the glare of madness in those eyes. She knew about the Gem. She was after the Gem, or at least she clearly wanted it. Perhaps it was of some use to her...

Why?

There was a lot that Bujilli did not know. He had no idea where the Gem was from, nor who had created it. He wasn't even sure what it was intended for, exactly. He had some half-formed thoughts, a sort-of theory that he'd so-far left nebulous and unexamined. In some respects he was unsure just how wise it would be to look too closely into the mystery of the Gem. It had taught him spells. It had led him here. It whispered of a way for him to escape this world, to go to other worlds. Until now, that had been enough.

This clearly was not the place to interrogate a glowing green Gem.

Not with the Princess and what remained of her entourage sure to be following him down the ramp.

It was a tight spot.

There were too many variables. Things needed to be simplified.

The Princess was just too dangerous to leave at his back. It left him too vulnerable, too likely to get caught in a real rock and a hard place situation. Like this one. Here. Now.

An ambush. It would have to be some sort of ambush. But what could he do?

He hated the thought of killing. He'd done his share, certainly, but always in self defense. He was no warrior, and certainly not an assassin. But he had been hunted by cunning beasts in dismal tunnels, and he'd managed to turn the tables on more than one unscrupulous loot-jumper out to score an easy haul.

He needed some way to turn things to his advantage, to use the Princess' power and arrogance against her somehow.

Bujilli went to the wall and examined it closely. It was cracked and pitted, even scored in places where strange weapons or spells had burned or melted or fractured sections of the surface into lacy masses of fractalized matter slowly slipping into an unreal state. He took a step back, away from the wall. It still reverberated with intense energies. There had been a great fight here. A terrible battle.

For a moment Bujilli wondered which side had won.

Everything was stabilized, for now. Someone had sorted things out after the fact. Yes. The more that Bujilli concentrated, he could just barely discern the glimmerings of embedded wards. Some things can't be un-done, but they can sometimes be deferred or held in abeyance.

Like the Thing that Watches.

Hmmm...

A nasty thought occurred to Bujilli. It could work. Possibly. It was certainly dangerous. But the situation was desperate enough, and he had to make whatever he did right now count for everything he could bring to bear. There would be no second chance. Not with the Princess. He might have been able to connive some sort of contractual renegotiation with the Rhinocerenary, but they were dead. Killed out of hand by their employer...or was she their employer? Perhaps She, too, served someone else. If so, there might be some way to work out an arrangement with the Phorain...but it was highly unlikely that he'd ever get such an opportunity. But then, he never expected to ever find such a thing as the Gem either.

Bujilli took a deep breath and extended the area of effect of his Invisibility spell like blowing a bubble, a full-body bubble outwards just enough to give him some room within which to work. He removed his pack and dug out the Little Brown Journals that he'd 'liberated' from his Uncle's yurt. There were spells in these little booklets; old, odd and obscure spells that he hoped were outside the expertise and experience of the Princess.

His hands shook slightly. He disliked burning a page from one of these Journals in order to cast an un-learned, un-practised spell, but he didn't see much in the way of an alternative. Running wasn't going to work. His tulwar would prove no match for the Phorain, nor for the scimitar wielded by the Princess, and she clearly still had spells to bring to bear. This was not a time to present his backside to an opponent who could probably scald him to death from the inside if he was merely within line of sight. Too many things favored the Princess. He needed some way to alter that.

The Journal opened to a page with a peculiar rune impressed into the parchment. Bujilli felt the raised surface with his finger tip. It slithered. Slightly. The spell it marked as something translated from the Aklo as 'Malign and Particular Suspension of Natural Law.' The commentary scribbled in the margin by his Uncle only noted that this spell changes everything within the area of effect and that it is one of the preliminaries used in certain rituals. The black Tsannic mark was scorched into the page as though with a branding iron. It was an interesting spell to be sur---

SmASH!

"Come out, come out little Almas. We merely wish to talk." Came the sweetly venomous voice that he knew had to be the Princess.

CrunCH!

He could smell the foullness he knew as the scent of the Muck Raker. It was overpowering and seemed to be coming closer.

Shraaak!

Sparks sprung from the wall across from him. A heavy blade. A powerful blow. At about Almas-head height.

It was the Phorain. Invisible and far too close for comfort.

Bujilli cast the Tsannic spell. Crude syllables of gutteral Aklo barked out in rapid succession. His voice became a stream of green mist, his words vibrated into orange paroxysms of smoldering luminance that curled and swirled about Bujilli like a thousand burning amber snakes. Then all went silent.

He looked outwards from the eye of a shining, blazing hurricane of rich ochre and saffron and vermillion.

The Phorain stood before him, revealed and limned with a lambent yellow haze.

"I have no grudge against you--"

"I am commanded to kill you, but otherwise, I bear you no malice." The Phorain raised its mighty two-handed sword.

Bujilli instinctively pushed against the swirling, churning energies surrounding him.

The Phorain slid backwards several sword-lengths out of reach.

"Kill Him Fool!" Shrieked the Princess.

Bujilli looked up the sloping corridor to see her standing there, glaring hatefully at him.

There was fear in her eyes. Even at that distance Bujilli was certain that he could see the distinctive look of dread. She was afraid of him...no...not him, but what he had done, what he could do next.

Bujilli smiled. He could feel the energies coursing about him. It was time to put this spell to work.

He closed his eyes and extended his awareness out through the spell's area of effect, as his Uncle had taught him to do as a child, when he was just learning how to master recalcitrant cantrips and surly spells that had their own ideas about who ought to do what for whom.

With a flick of his wrist Bujilli sent the Phorain sprawling back into the chamber with the Thing That Watches. He only barely missed crashing into his mistress. She wore some sort of ward. But no matter.

Bujilli reached out to the embedded wards in the walls, ceiling and floor. He wrapped each one in vague orange tendrils of smoky luminosity and peeled each one out of their position, crushing them and casting the aethyric debris aside like so much garbage.

The Princess screamed.

"You Fool! You'll kill us all!"

Bujilli laughed. He extended his hands like the talons of a mountain harpy and began to rip apart the ceiling between the Princess and himself.

Debris began to rain down all around her.

She brought up her scimitar to effect some sort of defensive shield and then began to work on a reprisal casting of her own. It was exactly what Bujilli had been hoping would happen.

Venomous green light began to collect around the Princess's extended finger-tips. It was a potent, vicious spell--Bujilli could feel the malice vibrating within the aethyric packet that served as the energetic palimpsest for the configuration she was attempting to use against him.

But time was flowing on Bujilli's terms now, and matter responded to his whims, even as energy coursed and flickered at his behest. It was intoxicating. Transcendent. Beautiful. Terrible. It was like being on the very threshold of god-like power. It would be simplicity itself to erase her. To expunge her from reality itself. He had the power. He--

Bujilli shook his head. He focused on the task at hand. Hand. The spell coiling about the Princess's hand like a serpent about to strike. With a gesture Bujilli snapped the swirling energies he commanded like a whip and the toxic spell ruptured. The Princess howled in agony and collapsed to her knees. Her hand was gone. Most of her arm was gone. A faint smudge of smoke drifted away from the cauterized stump.

Smack!

The Princess toppled forward.

Behind her stood the Phorain. It spat on the ground, only barely missing the prone figure of its mistress.
The Terror-Bird centaur looked right into Bujilli's eyes. It snorted. Shrugged. Replaced its sword.

"If you meant to destroy us, we'd be scattered atoms smeared across the walls. Since neither of us have any reason to bear any ill-will to one another, I propose a truce."

Bujilli laughed.

"What changed your mind?"

"Like I said; personally, I bear you no malice. If anything, it was your assistance that allowed me to kill that...thing...and..." they lifted up the severed head of the Rhinocerenary, "...and it was clearly treachery that killed my partner, not some cowardly assassin's blade."

"I saw her," Bujilli pointed to the Princess, "cut your friend down in cold blood, while he was struggling with the Muck Raker."

"You swear this?"

"Certainly. I have no reason to lie.Your mistress is not only capricious, she is mad."

"Wretched trollop." The Phorain spat on the floor in disgust. "So many dead, and for what? Bah."

"What was she looking for, if I might ask?"

"A mechanism of some kind. An ancient and dangerous device that she claimed would give her father the means to extend his empire beyond walls of Ylgreve. She said it would give them the means to take control of the cyclic wandering of their city-state, that it would somehow let them steer the wandering city to destinations of their choosing."

"Ylgreve? The Flicker-Flame Domain? One of the Phantomopoli, a Wandering City of the Kalaramar Drifts?"

"Yes."

"I have heard some few fragmentary tales of this strange place. Is it truly unfixed in its location and mutable, even inconstant with regard to time?"

"As with all the Wandering Cities. Yes. This means something to you then?"

Bujilli closed his eyes and considered his situation. Had things been handled differently, he and the Princess might have been, could have been, should have been allies. But that was impossible now. One did not maim and disgrace such a creature as this unhinged Princess without incurring their wrath. There might be a vendetta, her family might put a bounty on his head.

"Once. Long ago, now, or so it seems, such a place would have been the very stuff of my dreams. But alas, I fear I would not be very welcome in Ylgreve were I to appear there after this unfortunate encounter."

"Perhaps. If you'll let us pass, I will remove Janildra from this place and with any luck you can continue on your way without further interference, at least until she recovers and is made to answer for her incompetence."

"And then? What? Her family will want revenge, will they not? Assassins and vendettas do not appeal to me." Bujilli considered his options. It would be simplicity itself to dissolve the Princess into a frothy scrum of unraveled matter. He had the means in his hands right now to disassemble her down to the most elementary components and embed them or disperse them so that they could never fully be recovered.

"It could be a very long while before she has the means to pursue any sort of vendetta...and she'll do so without my service, and most likely her family will want to distance themselves from any taint of failure, let alone dishonor. She is ruined. Politically as much as physically."

Bujilli stared at the unconscious Princess. Orange tendrils slowly pulsed and squirmed ever closer to her prone form. The Tsannic spell was beginning to act as though it had a will of its own. Either he disintegrated her, or he let her go. He had to make a decision. Now. Before the spell subverted him. There were those spells that desired nothing so much as an opportunity to become the caster instead of that which was cast.

"Go. Take her from my sight. Leave this place and I'll not hinder your escape."

The Phorain bowed slightly. Then it scooped-up the Princess, turned away and began walking out of the place.

"But what about her sword?" he called after the mercenary.

"She lost it. I have no desire to help her save face in this matter. If she wishes the blade restored to her, let her come retrieve it on her own. Unless you wish to claim it?"

"No. It can stay where it is for all I care. I do not trust it..."

"A prudent choice. It is possessed by one of her ancestors. Losing it will go very badly for her. It will also give her family something to consider before they start ranting and raving about any vendetta."

"Thank you. that is very kind of you."

"Hah! Hardly. I expect it to destroy her credibility. It will be one more item on the ledger allowing me to re-negotiate our contract, though I am now the sole survivor of our company. I'll be needing lawyers and accountants now, more than swords or spells. A fine kettle of fish for a poor mercenary like myself to fall into indeed."

"I wish you well..."

"Mak-Ait-akh." Belched the Phorain.

"I am Bujilli."

"Well-met Bujilli. I shall take Janildra home now. I would wish you safe journeys, but I think that you are not looking for safe things, are you?"

"No. I guess not."

What Now?

Should Bujilli go back for some easy-pickings?
Should he take Janildra's ancestral scimitar, if only to prevent her from getting it back easily?

What lies beyond the massive corpse of the Muck-Raker?

There are passages as-yet unexplored back there...

Which way should Bujilli go?

Should he continue onward, downward into Area 9?

You Decide!

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Previous                                                      Next

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Series Indexes

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

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Starting Page  |  Central Index

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About Bujilli (What is This?) | Who is Bujilli? | How to Play

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Bujilli's Character Sheet | Leeja's Character Sheet | Cast of Characters

Bujilli's Spells | Little Brown Journals | Loot Tally | House Rules

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Episode Guides
Series One (Episodes 1-19)

Series Two (Episode 20-36)

Series Three (Episodes 37-49)

Series Four (Episodes 50-68)

Series Five (Episodes 69-99)
Series Six(Episodes 100-ongoing)

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Labyrinth Lord   |   Advanced Edition Companion

Displacement Effect (Random Table/Any System)

This Table is intended for the Assault of Chaos spell, but it can also be used in the course of an apportational or teleportational duel such as are sometimes fought in the Sepulchre-Arenas of Tsan Yian, certain instances of poltergeist phenomena, or at times when things get spatially-unhinged in the Kalaramar Drifts, for example.

Displacement Effects Table I

1. Target shifted 1d100' in a random direction.
2. Buried (1d10 x 1,000') below the surface. Save and a pocket has formed around victim with enough air for about 20 minutes. Fail the Save, there's no pocket.
3. Victim is instantly transported 1d100 miles in a random direction.
4. Target has been shunted over to an Alternate Timeline for the next 1d100 minutes.
5. Spontaneously elevated (1d10 x 1,000') above the surface. Roll Save for disorientation, fail and target passes out for the first 1,000' of falling.
6. Victim is instantly transported 2d100 miles in a random direction.
7. Victim has been shifted 1d4 years into the past.
8. Target shifted 2d100' in a random direction.
9. Victim is embedded inside a wall or other vertical structure within 1,000' of starting position. Save and there's air for 10 minutes, fail Save and it doesn't matter--body is integrated into the materials of the object.
10. Target has been shunted over to an Alternate World for the next 1d100 minutes. Save to avoid forming a Weak Point.
11. Victim is instantly transported 3d100 miles in a random direction.
12. Target shifted 3d100' in a random direction.
13. Swap positions with opponent.
14. Victim is instantly transported 4d100 miles in a random direction.
15. Target superficially bonded to outer layer of nearest vertical surface. Requires 2d6 minutes to break free but suffer 3d4 damage, Save for half damage.
16. Target shifted 4d100' in a random direction.
17. Reversed position.
18. Victim is instantly transported 1d100 x 1d100 miles in a random direction.
19. Target exchanges location with a quantum shadow from an intersecting probability string. Make the Save and one or both instances of the affected individual reverts to their native probability stream within 1d100 minutes, fail the Save and one or both instances of the target are cast adrift upon the vast oceans of uncertainty, unlikely to be seen ever again.
20. Target shifted 1d100 x d100' in a random direction.

Bloody Bones Servitor (Wermspittle)

Bloody Bones
(Spellbound Skeletal Servitors)
No. Enc.: 1d4
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 60' (20')
Armor Class: 6
Hit Dice: 3
Attacks: 2 claws or 1 bite
Damage: 1d6/1d6 or 2d4, plus see note below
Save: F4
Morale: 11

Gruesome travesties of the living, these servitors are made to literally rip themselves free from the still-warm  flesh of those most recently killed whether it is on the battlefield, at an unhallowed altar, or in some nameless back-alley. Bloody Bones are unconscious slaves, their minds broken and driven off, their bodies ruined  beyond recovery. There remains no shred nor hint of sentience within these things. They are more akin to horrible manikins or machines, cobbled together from fresh bones and ectoplasm, still dripping with gore and raw flesh. Few of these things endure for longer than a few hours unless care is taken to stabilize their constantly deliquescing condition, a step only taken if the spell-caster creating these things has plans that go beyond simply dealing with intruders or interlopers. In Tsan Yian, for example, this spell is a pre-requisite for certain rituals among the Brethren of Bone and Blood and it is rumored to play an important central part in the eventual Transfiguration each member of the Inner Sanctum is expected to partake of along their respective path to power. The Necrotects of Palash and Nidure are equally renowned to have designed and codified over a hundred different variations upon the Bloody Bones spell that creates these skeletal servitors...a situation both competing sects finds intolerable, so they continue to wring still more and even more twisted and distorted variations upon this one spell, this one relatively simple monster.

The alley-squatting mediums of Wermspittle are notorious for using one version or another of the Bloody Bones spell to interfere with the Goules of Latterkamp, whenever those groups find themselves at odds over some point of esoteric prestige or sorcerous standing. It is worth noting that the spells employed in these situations are altogether different from any offered for sale by the above-mentioned Necrotects, and represent an alternative lineage of development that has so far baffled scholars and brought a number of pet theories regarding the provenance of certain here-to-fore 'common' spells into question.

Fantomists will sometimes employ these creatures as ectoplasmic reservoirs, and others (especially those suspected of having ties to the Corruption Trade) have been known to use them as walking Gore-Worm farms. At least one apprentice has dared serious injury over-casting some ill-gotten variation of the Bloody Bones Spell in order to mislead or misdirect an Ordrang or Sanguinovore. It is also an article of faith among some apprentices that the Triple Shadow Spell will cause a Bloody Bones Servitor to slide laterally into an Adjacent World. Few apprentices are up to the task of actually casting this particular spell, and those who achieve the skill and puissance required rarely discuss such matters with apprentices, so the urban folklore persists.

Murlantrik the Octoscholar is known to pay good coins for variant versions of the Bloody Bones Spell or even more for a few choice samples taken from such a servitor--if it is one that she does not already possess. Good luck getting an appointment, though.

To create a Bloody Bones Servitor, the caster utters a blasphemous formula known in most references as a Bloody Bones Spell. Of course, as already noted, there are quite a few variant and modified versions of this spell available. According to some sources, this spell is best rendered in Aklo or D'honnik. This might be some sort of subtle distinction made by the Necrotects, perhaps to allude to the way that the particular language used to commit this spell affects the outcome. Unfortunately, no source outside the Necrotects has given this matter any in-depth study. Those who show signs of making real progress are often co-opted, forcibly inducted into a sect, or rendered undead before they can reveal their insights or findings. Occasionally, a necromantically-inclined Prodigy will cause quite a stir by publishing preliminary findings along these lines, but more often than not they disappear in the ensuing bombings, kidnappings, or assassinations. Some find this something of a sport. Their mentors would rather they took up something less disruptive, like politics or spell-fighting.


Note: These particular skeletons are usually turned as zombies, and anyone struck by their claw-like hands --or bitten-- must make a saving throw versus poison or become sickened for 1d6 hours, during which time they can only move at 50% normal movement and no other physical activity is possible.

Effects of Unknown Forces (Random Table/Any System)

This Table is intended to accompany the spell: Evocation of Unknown Forces, but it can certainly be used with similar spells and in other situations at GM whim, er um discretion.

Effects of Unknown Forces (D20)

1. Every sentient entity within the area of effect of this spell has 1 point of WIS forcibly ripped from them (inflicting an additional 2d4 damage). The accumulated WIS is then aggregated into one nascent proto-consciousness that is entirely intuitive, instinctive and highly empathic. It also now knows how to take what it needs from those around it in order to become more than it already is and might decide to rip off INT or CHAR to become a more well-rounded personality. This feral egregore has 1 HD per every increment of 6 points of WIS it has to start with.
2. Everything caught within the sphere of effect is now rendered permanently transparent (roll 1d100 for percentage). It might sound like fun at first, but as the victim's eyes become transparent, they lose a corresponding amount of their ability to see within the normal spectra. A kind GM might allow those affected to adjust their visual sensitivity into some other range, such as infra-red or ultra-violet or whatever. Perhaps they gain the ability to see across the planes or gain a permanent form of clairvoyance in lieu of normal sight...
3. Save or become petrified. You're not 'really' petrified, but rather have been shifted into a much slower-moving temporal stream. Your body resembles nearly immutable stone that endures throughout the ages to those who view it on the original time-line. The effect might eventually wear-off, but only after some really extreme period of time, unless someone figures out some clever way to circumvent the temporal differential.
4. Everything goes blindingly white. A vast cacophonous roar shakes you to your very bones. Then it is totally quiet for 1d6 minutes after which it starts to snow within the area of effect for the next 1d6 hours. That is all.
5. Each living thing within range of this spell loses 1 HD that is extracted under excruciatingly painful circumstances by the writhing, slithering energies of something ultra-organic, but operating on an entirely other sequence of planar spectra. All the extracted HD are then compounded into a weird gelatinous mass of poly-cellular goo that requires 1d30 rounds to fully gestate/incubate/develop within its egg-sac, after which time a wet and very hungry abomination combining one or more features from everyone who contributed a HD to its creation process (typically in the most lurid, disgusting ways possible to describe with a straight face or in your best drop-dead serious HPL-tone) chews its way out of the amniotic caul-pod and starts looking around for its mother...and something to eat.
6. Everyone re-rolls WIS on 5d6, discards the lower two results and replaces their original score. Then each character so affected must make a Save or lose consciousness for 1d4 hours, after which time they awaken to a new life with a new personality, and no memory of their past life. The old memories and identity might be recoverable (like via certain spells), but could easily require an adventure or two in and of itself. There are those who deal in such matters, beings who barter in souls, trade in memories, or peddle new identities, as well as those who recover old identities, for a price.
7. It's all purple. Deep, dark purple. Oh, and all the air is screaming off into the void that is all deep, dark purple and empty, except for you.
8. Those caught within the area of effect can no longer see the color green. Save or this is a permanent effect.
9. Everyone within range of the spell's effect must roll a Save or have their eyes morph into wet, flabby masses of looping tendril or feather-like antennae that extend nearly a foot outwards from their skull. Each of those affected now has a permanent True Seeing spell always in effect, however they cannot bear exposure to bright lights as their new ocular appendages are extremely sensitive things.
10. The entire zone of effect of this spell has slipped out of alignment with the planar plenum and the whole thing is now sliding precipitously across one adjacent plane after another, picking up speed as it does so, until at last it reaches sufficient velocity to break free of anything you might know or recognize as reality, never to be seen again. Anyone so desiring can, of course, leave the accelerating elliptical area of effect, but will find themselves left on some other plane, dimension or place. Each minute they hesitate before jumping adds 1d4 to the amount of damage they will take when they finally do jump, unless they opt to ride this thing out...then it's a one way trip to oblivion, unless the GM decides to intervene.
11. Everyone within the zone of effect has had their skin and a small amount of their flesh commingled with everyone else. Cutting free will take 3d6 damage over the course of 3d4 rounds, with a need to either make a CON check or a Save in order to not pass out in the course of extracting one's self from this disgusting mess. Once free, another Save will be needed to avoid bleeding to death. If anyone stays interconnected like this without cutting themselves free, they will be conglomerated into a single macro-organism within 3d6 hours. It is a painless process, however the final conglomerate being will only retain portions of any one contributor's memories, abilities, or attributes...and it will most definitely not be human any longer. Oh, and it will certainly be quite hungry.
12. Everyone hands their character sheet over to the person to their right for the rest of the session. Players must succeed on a Save for both their old character and the new one in order to switch back. They can attempt this only once per session.
13. The zone of effect becomes a permanent storm with winds that lash out for 2d4 damage per round and a constant 30% chance of random lightning strikes for another 3d6 damage. See the Damned Things Tables for additional fall-out from the storm, and there is a base 5% chance that this place has become a temporary Weak Spot or Weak Point in reality, allowing things to cross-over from strange places and times. (This would be a great time to whip out one of those handy random tables of monster encounters from Mutant Future, Humanspace Empires, or some other game...)
14. Each mind within the zone of effect has been swapped into the body of someone or something else who was likewise caught within the range of this spell. Roll randomly.
15. All beings within the zone of effect must make a Save or be forcibly transmogrified into a living shadow of themselves. Their ability to assume a limited form of materiality will depend on their ability to derive substance from those they drain of hit points by a touch attack, or possibly other sorcerous solutions mostly known within Tsan Yian...
16. All those affected have malleable features, essentially their faces mold like putty, for the next 1d6 days. Yes, they will stay that way if you're not careful.
17. You all wake up with a headache, you've lost 1d4 HD, all your stats are re-rolled, and you may be an entirely other class and possibly even another race or gender now...and your memories of what happened are cloudy and painful, so it's probably best to get moving. This place just doesn't feel right to you and the sooner you get away from it, the better.
18. Those affected have had their bones transformed into translucent crystalline material much more akin to carbon than to calcium. Each of them gains one additional Hit Die, heals at twice the normal rate, and now has the ability to store spells in their bones as though they were walking, talking rings of spell storing. There are quite a few 'interested parties' who'd dearly love to get hold of such lovely bones as those the player characters now carry around within their formerly worthless hides...
19. Everything goes black --very dramatically-- and each person caught within the spell's zone of effect finds themselves facing an exact duplicate, a deranged, slavering, completely insane contra-replica hellbent on killing and devouring the original so that they can go forth from this place in their stead.
20. No one will ever know what really happened. Roll up some new characters...

Vhonj (Paraversal Plane)

Vhonj is a plane made up of interconnecting strands of filamentous landscapes, predominently scalding hot purplish deserts facing the Jewel-suns and scathingly frigid mountainous regions that are turned outwards into the cold, black void. Each of the myriad of interlocking, interlacing land-strands are tangled around a cluster of hot, jewel-faceted suns. In the deep distance there appear to be other, rival clusters of faceted suns surrounded by their own tangled skeins of terrain.

Map available for download via widget at upper right on sidebar
or at Box: http://www.box.net/shared/8taimbnb6y
This Map is Designated Open Game Content

Vhonj is an old, old place grown bitter and desolate with age and neglect. The days of great empires have come and gone long ago and only scattered ruins, buried tombs and obscure reliquaries remain as monuments and reminders of those who have gone before. Colossal statues and massive idols rear drunkenly out of the hot purple sands of the sunward deserts, each one pitted and eroded into untrue shapes by the erratic caress of the grit-laden winds. On the colder, forlorn and ice-shrouded darkward side of things entire mountains that have been molded and reshaped into strange bas reliefs of incredible scale that few prying eyes have beheld in millennia.

Pilgrims come to Vhonj, and those who prey upon such, as well as those who would protect them for a price. Bandits, grave-robbers and looters of all sorts and types wander the hot sands and frigid wastes of Vhonj looking for abandoned tombs, forgotten crypts, and whatever pickings they might come across--for this is a realm noted for its peculiar, often unforseen opportunities. It is not for nothing that the quadrolophic sages of Palza refer to Vhonj as the ossuary of secrets.

Next Post:

Open Source Terrain, Environmental Effects

& Encounter Tables for Vhonj

20 Major Dungeons/Ruins (Jalamere)

Here's a quick list of 20 sites we want to make sure are included in the final map of Jalamere. So far.

Major Dungeon/Ruin Sites of Jalamere

1. Black Ziggurat (see Black Ziggurat of Jalamere and Black Ziggurat of Jalamere Part Two for more details concerning the immediate area surrounding this strange hyper-dimensional structure)
2. Borderland Keep
3. Brazen Tomb of Gargantua (One of many such entrances)
4. Crash-Site
5. Mysterious Mounds connected by subterranean canals
6. Octagonal Keep
7. Arid plateaus criss-crossed by lines like at Nazca, only for real, sort of...
8. Disangled Ruins
9. Phantasmal City that might not really be there after all
10. Village with strange inter-planar ties to Wermspittle...includes a section of Haunted Hop-Yards
11. Vast labyrinth of catacombs accessed via a dismal sepulchre like the one in The Statement of Randolph Carter by HPL
12. Peak Fortress of the Visitors
13. Crater-Lake within a Black Lagoon
14. Tsan Yian Colony-Dome
15. Escher-site: See Swords & Dorkery's Escher Challenge
16. Cliff-stairs
17. The Dome
18. Gardens of the Resolute Empress
19. Blasted Pyramids of Nitocrimelle
20. Lost City of Jikai

Details to follow...