Monstrous Compendium Vol. 1: Spelljammer Creatures
Frozen Sick
D&D Beyond Basic Rules
Basic Rules (2014)
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Monstrous Compendium Vol. 1: Spelljammer CreaturesFrozen SickD&D Beyond Basic RulesBasic Rules (2014)Sign in to view your library & saved favorites.
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Cerberus takes the shambling mounds dragon. They then shake hands.
Sylvan cuts some roots.
Hi, I’m DrakenBrine, here’s my Sig and characters
I am The Grand Envisioner!
"You are quite good at chess." The viking nods.
Death turns a page in the newspaper and murmurs something to himself.
*Good afternoon children of the isles. You god hath returned once more.*
𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕗, 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕤, 𝕡𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕔𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝕀'𝕧𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕦𝕟𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
𝔻𝕖𝕒𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟, 𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕚𝕟 𝕦𝕡 𝕒 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕔𝕙
𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕'𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘
*Hello*
Death is sweeping, dirt not souls.
A tall, grey haired, viking like man is playing a flute crafted from bone and inscribed with runes.
The Grim Sweeper looks at you and he speaks in his dark, ageless voice, I AM SWEEPING. THIS PLACE HAS GOTTEN AWFULLY DIRTY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
SORRY ABOUT THAT, Death apologizes, completely misunderstanding what you said, MY PRESENCE DOES TEND TO BRING DOWN THE TEMPERATURE, THERE IS A FIREPLACE OVER THERE THAT CAN PROVIDE WARMTH.
YOU JUST SAID THAT YOU ARE CHILLY, COLD. I EXPECT THAT IT IS MY FAULT. I SEEM TO HAVE AN AURA OF FRIGID AIR AROUND ME, THE CHILL OF DEATH. The Grim Sweeper explains.
OH, says The Sweeper, I AM NOT VERY GOOD AT RECOGNIZING THOSE SORTS OF THINGS.
A... "man" walks in, running his gloved fingers across the wall. He is dressed in archaic physician's garb, complete with a mask stuffed with herbs, and carries a book written in an even more ancient language.
Magic detection:
He has a strong Necromantic aura, but of life-giving magic instead of the usual death-bringing beloved by most necromancers.
Necril language (tongue of the dead):
The book appears to be an ancient spellbook, owned by a necromancer-king known today only as the Rottentooth.
You can recognize the text on the cover of the book with a successful DC 20 Arcana or History check.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The Viking man at the bar watches the strange man who walks in, " This place brings in all sorts of people."
The Grim Sweeper, death incarnate, stand in a dark corner with Echo and watches the man walk in with an unreadable expression on his skull-face, though all his expressions are hard to read due to the lack of flesh.
The plague doctor(?) puts a notice on the board:
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The Viking man walks up, reads the notice, and says, " So are you Doctor Lawrence King? And you say that you are capable of bringing folks back from the dead?"
"Within a limited timeframe, yes. I can do it after they've been dead for a while, but it's very expensive and brings with it a high chance of failure." His voice is that of an old man. I don't mean "old" as in 80 years, I mean old like a mummy or a lich.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The man stares at you with unusual blue-grey eyes. They seem too deep, yet they seem to be overflowing with the sights they have seen. His eyes are like stones that have been left in the river of time for so long that they have become smoothed over by the ages. The creases in his face are deep, very deep. Yet he still is strong of arm and he stands tall with broad shoulders. "Your voice," he says quietly, " It seems to be that of one whose age could match my own. It is not often that I come across someone with a similar span of years as I."
*Very poetic!*
"Nor I, but I'm afraid I've been relatively... out of it... for the past thousand years. I haven't the strength of flesh to run for such long times as you can, beautiful one."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*Thanks*
Eyebrows raised, the man asks him, "Who are you Doctor Lawrence King?"
He leans close.
"The Rottentooth, come to bring back my utopia. My creations are being used for war, and I cannot abide by that in the least. They are meant to be tools, not weapons."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
"The Rottentooth? I haven't heard of you before. You dislike war? I am no stranger to bloodshed, though I do regret much of it. I am trying to learn how to not solve every problem with the sword. He who lives by the sword dies by the sword, as they say." He smiles a strange sort of smile, as if he doesn't really think it applies to him, and is upset by that. "Anyways, what is your utopia and what are your creations? Would you like to sit down as we discuss these things. Have a drink, I'll pay."
The doctor sits down. "I built an entire kingdom from the ground up. It was after the worst war the world had seen up to that point, over a thousand years ago. Bodies littered the countryside. Horrific machines and monsters tore the land asunder. I was left to clean up the mess so many others died to make. That was when a thought occurred to me.
"You see, I was a healer during the war. Not for any side, just a local physician. I saw so many families ruined financially by the loss of a father or a mother. So, what if I could bring back the dead? Not truly, of course, as denying a soul from their afterlife after they've been in it for so long would be evil, but instead animating their bodies for manual labor or jobs with a high chance of death or injury. Then, all the sapient individuals could spend their time learning to do jobs that would actually benefit from a functioning brain.
"My plan was beautiful. Flawless on paper. However, people didn't like my radical ideas. What I didn't consider was that people might not think using a corpse to help its previous owner's loved ones was respectful, and I never even thought about the folks who were too stupid, lazy, or set in their ways to take the harder jobs. Violence ensued. The Utopists vs the People. I tried to deal with it nonviolently, but when you lose sixty undead per day to a single disgruntled weaver... undead police forces were necessary, led by my more fair-minded followers.
"Within sixty years, my kingdom was built. The mindless dead, divorced from their hunger and evil natures, served the living. I could die in peace, surrounded by a grateful kingdom of well-fed, well-educated individuals. It was my utopia. I was then banished to the land of the dead for my crimes, and by my own chairman nonetheless. I don't blame him, of course. For hundreds of years, I lay in peace, bringing hope and joy to the souls of the lost.
"But one hundred years ago, centuries after my death, someone took control of my kingdom and sent my mindless workers to war. The monster cut down churches, razed villages, and unmade my machinations. All the new king wanted was power and the same with his son, and his son after him...
"My loyalists raised me to deal with the threat. I cannot take life by the tenets of my oath, but I can certainly bring life to those who can."
He sighs.
"I truly despise violence. My entire life I've fought against the four horsemen. Now I've come in their stead. I will have my legacy, and my people will live in a utopia. I don't care if my followers don't even number in the tens, I will grant them perfection."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels