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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*I think I'll go with the last idea, anyway, does anyone want to rp?*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"Oh, I- I almost forgot to mention- I figured out one of the spells." She waves her hand, muttering something under her breath, and that hand now being adorned with six-inch-long, metallic-looking claws: Hooked at the ends and dripping with acid. A few seconds later, the claws from the Primal Savagery spell crumble away into ash.
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
*Okay. Full profile for Austin Solar
Age: 52.
Gender: Cisgender Male.
Sexuality: Omniromantic/Asexual.
Race: Half-Elf.
Alignment: Neutral Good
He believes that all people are innocent until they prove they are guilty. He wants to help everyone he can but understands he is only one man and can't get to all of them at once. He whole-heartedly believes everyone has good in them even if they act otherwise. He doesn't believe that he should be captain of the Aurora Sails despite his group's love and often doubts his ability to lead them. He will put his life at risk if it means saving his crew in the face of danger and will often display self-sacrificing tendencies. However, he is too trusting, and that bites him in the rear almost every time.
Overall traits: Positive, Optimistic, Caring, Selfless, Over-Trusting, Self-Doubting.
Class: Paladin/ Sublass: Oath of the Watchers.
His pet is a Mimic that has turned itself into a monkey. Its name is Beatrice and it is often hanging around him. He taught it how to use a flintlock pistol in case of emergencies. It likes to pickpocket members of the crew as a joke but usually gives back the items it took.*
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
She raises an eyebrow with surprise before smiling wide with joy "I'm so proud, cantrip after cantrip, soon enough by the time this year is over you'll be castin' third level spells without any issue, maybe even higher." She takes their hands in hers "Actually, do ya want me ta help amplify yer magic just this once?"
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*Anybody else want to rp? Picking isn't necessary of course, I might be busy doing some things, but I'll try to reply as soon as possible.*
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Patrizio the imp has rapidly developed a good reputation among the townsfolk, which shouldn't be possible given his diabolic nature and lack of ability to do pretty much anything. He's now dressed in a hand-me-down undershirt and sweat pants, both a bit too large for him, and giving piano lessons at the tavern to earn some silver pieces.
Franz is in his trailer, trying to figure out what Patrizio's deal is.
Felix is digging up gold pieces from his garden.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The writer has been drinking since yesterday at the bar and is somehow not yet drunk or tipsy, listens to the piano.
Azabell crawls around on the roof of the trailer, eating sticks somehow.
Angel appears besides him in a whirl of cosmic energy "Hello Felix."
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
Sparrow is in the Inn, happy to hear someone placing the piano, though he doesn't attempt to play, simply tipping Patrizio for his work, having himself a drink as he listens.
They hear a knock on the door of their trailer, the sound of light footsteps outside of it.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
Patrizio watches as the last student gets up, pays him a couple copper pieces, and leaves. He counts the coins and puts them in his bulging pockets. It seems that he has no storage of any kind other than these. He sighs and runs his claws through his white hair, revealing the socket where his left eye should be. He suddenly makes eye contact with the writer and brushes his hair back into place with his fingers.
Franz listens. "Azzy? What are you eating?"
Felix sort of rolls into a sitting position. "Hey, Angel! Nice to see you again!"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The little devil flinches slightly when Sparrow gets close, feeling the cowboy's aura on his skin, but quickly recovers. "Thank yah, pardner."
He opens the door without hesitation, ready to welcome whoever in is.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The Writer nods at him, knocking back his whiskey. He fixes his hair, tying it up into a bun.
"Nothing." They said, like they just got caught.
"How're you?" They asked, bowing respectfully.
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
The little devil quickly looks away. He bounces his leg for a bit, stroking his chin, before playing a tune and singing along, or more accurately talking rhythmically, as if he were reading a poem to the music.
"Another page, a hurried scrawl,
A night replays, a dozen more,
Another failed and crumpled ball
Of 'almost, maybe' on the floor.
Framed within the maze within the print,
His escape from all this hinges
On which page becomes the door."
"Please don't lie. Lying is not good. If you don't eat well, you won't grow big and strong. Don't you want to be big and strong?"
"I seem to have come down with a disease carried by 1% of the population. It is called affluenza, and it is characterized by excessive wealth." He tosses a gold coin in his mouth before chewing and swallowing.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*hello*
Extended signature
The Writer chuckles lightly, his dark eyes glinting. "A genius writer, trapped in a prison of shadows. His struggles to escape only push him deeper in this ocean of darkness. But when a peaceful small town is invaded by the forces of supernatural darkness, the writer breaks free to come to its defence. Living shadows, murderous cultists, and reckless government agents all await him in this maze of blood and horror.."
"Sticks, I got sticks in my mouth." They spit out the sticks on to the ground. They seem to have somehow melded together in a weird sticky mess.
"Ah, yes. It seems only a select population of the rich have it. I am sorry it has happened to you." he said, tilting his head from side to side.
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
*How about all of my DD characters, this'll take a while. Alphabetically if anybody wants them.*
Ambrosia (The Duchess) is sitting in the middle of a field used for training. A longsword nearly the size of her, which makes it huge sits next to her as she sips some wine. She must have been training, the dummies around her torn to shreds.
Heriot (The Hellion) is having a drink at the bar, or a few from the amount of mugs sitting next to her, all of them empty as she repaints the war tattoos on her body, definitely drunk, which means shes making mistakes.
Jack (The Houndmaster) is sitting outside of the tavern with a bucket of water, a sponge, and some soap, cleaning his dog as they wiggling on the ground happily, humming to himself as he rubs the dirt out of their fur.
Jason (The Highwayman) is in the forest, sitting on a wagon that has been there for a long time, he seems to be looking at something in his hand, likely remembering something from his past, this place a reminder.
John (The Crusader) is training with the creatures that Riotan made for them, a broad smile on his face as he crushes them, a killer at heart as he cleaves them, his blade glowing with golden light and flames burning the remains.
Marie (The Graverobber) is sitting on a tree in the graveyard, throwing knives at some of the gravestones as she taps her foot, humming to herself as her knives stick into the names of people she will never meet.
Marionette (The Vestal) is praying at a small shrine she has made for herself, muttering about enlightenment and understanding, her mace clasped tightly as it fills with radiant energy.
Nikanhum (The Leper) is mediating in a field of flowers, his broken executioner's sword resting on the ground next to him as he takes deep breaths, his eyes closed and his mask sitting in his lap, his horrifically destroyed face visible.
Omar (The Occultist) is also meditating, but less for reasons of finding peace, and more for reasons of discovering eldritch powers they were not yet aware of, and finding ways to tap into them.
Paracelsus (The Plague Doctor) is working on another concoption to help the masses, but at the moment all it does is makes everything it touches combust after a few minutes. She is currently sitting in the lab trying to find out why.
Paul (The Abomination) is sitting in a dark alley in town, holding himself as the cold chains radiate with infernal energy, causing him to uncontrollably shiver, his eyes flashing yellow with Ezizah hidden within trying to help.
Rowan (The Jester) is playing his lute for some money, he hasn't made much, but he's certainly happy to be entertain the people who want to hear him within the tavern, his ring shining on his finger, almost as bright as his smile.
Winston (The Man-At-Arms) is sitting in the tavern, having a drink at the bar, his shield on his arm and his mace on his belt. He has his mug in one hand, a deck of playing cards in the other, putting them down and looking at them.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
He raises an eyebrow at the accent, but simply tips his hat respectfully "Where ya from, pardner?" He says, pulling out his harmonica "Mind if I play with ya?"
It's Tim, looking up to them with a slight look of worry as he waves to them, just happy to see them.
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
*Sorry about the delay*
"Yeah, hopefully. Just going to keep trying my best, and we'll see." She pauses upon hearing her offer, thinking for a moment. "Sure. I'd love that."
Former Spider Queen of the Spider Guild, and friendly neighborhood scheming creature.
"Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders."
My pronouns are she/her.
Web Weaver of Everlasting Narrative! (title bestowed by Drummer)
He smiles, still not looking up. "I read that part. But what happens next?"
He comes out of the trailer and looks up at Azabelle. "Why?" He sounds especially gentle when he says this.
"I'm probably fine as long as I don't start flaunting all this gold. Given how much I've started eating, I thought it wouldn't be much of a problem. Turns out that isn't the case. Besides, gold doesn't have any nutrition in it, so it never fills me up."
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
*It's all good, no need for a sorry*
She smiles, closing her eyes and beginning to channel the power she has within herself into them, the power of nature flowing through them "Now, focus on whatever ya want ta do."
Local Jokester, Viber, Doctor, and Therapist, I do my best to make your day better, and if I fail I'll try again tomorrow.
'Nothing is beautiful because it lasts.'
'War does not decide who was right, but only who is left.'
https://docs.google.com/document/d/12WUcdu6YBH2USIcmf48FCnLwDh_mGHZJZYZWwLLRzhA/edit?tab=t.0 (For when I'm gone.)
"Who knows, perhaps the pages are still out there." He said, shrugging.
"Hungry," He said, sort of cowering back despite being on top of the trailer.
"Perhaps make it into a meal? Turn the gold into something edible." he offered.
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