Clockwork Mender

Required raw materials: gold, silver, copper, rhodium, earth, amber, glass, ichor (earth elemental), blood (bird), blood (hornet), blood (own).

Being a bit late with these. I was working on last week's one and hoping to get it out on time, but it looks like it's gonna require a little bit more time.

Clockwork Menders are cat-sized vaguely insectoid machines that exist to repair other constucts. They can be individuals, but are commonly found in swarms, though the swarm doesn't last very long as Clockwork Menders will use up their own life force in the repair of another construct. Their main form of defence is a numbing poison.

With the Improved Familiar feat, some ranks in Craft (blacksmithing) and an open-minded GM, you too can have one of these little creatures as a companion. That or you can try to steal one from the plane of Mechanus.

Trying out pixel-stuff a little bit, because its fun in a way. I'm not sure if I could do this consistently, but it's still fun.

I was actually originally trying to do this with pen and ink, but found that I'm still to inexperienced with it to have the steady hand required for perfect circles.

Knell Beetle

The Knell Beetle is yet another creature you can add to the list of the products of bored wizards. Because sometimes you have to merge a bug with a bell.

Only the description in the Monster Manual is a creature with ten legs, claws and a red carapace. That's a crab, dawg, not a beetle. I couldn't decide on what shape to give them, as you can see, because I quickly found out that it's silly. Because knell beetles are tooting lobsters.

Oh and these things are CR 10, as big as cars and move in colonies. So if you feel like finding one to laugh at, you should probably wait a few levels.

Satyr

The Satyr bounds along the path playing his pipes. You begin to feel drowsy. Make a Will save.

The Satyr is a classic monster from Greco-Roman mythology. The Monster Manual actually had two challenge ratings for it, one with its pipes and one without. A Satyr who carries pipes around with him can play them to create three different tunes with different effects: charm person, fear or sleep. The pipes themselves are not magic; it's more like the Satyr happens to know how to play these spells.

I don't know if a CR 2 Satyr becomes a CR 4 encounter if he finds some pipes lying around, or if the CR 4 Satyr just knows the tunes, whether he has pipes or not.

Also experimenting with traditional inking. I found a collection of nibs back home over the holidays and am playing around with them, mostly because I got Bone as a Christmas present and think the inking in it is amaaazing.

Bacchae by Joe Sparrow

After four long days traversing a wilderness seemingly inhabited only by a smattering of parched trees, you begin to wonder if you will ever see civilisation again. Your hopes suddenly rise as you begin to percieve human sounds far off in the distance - sounds of revelry, it seems - and you quicken your step towards them. A camp? A village? Could it even be a town? As your curiosity deepens, you observe a group of men and women moving over the hill towards you clothed in rags and leaves, dancing, whooping, and playing instruments. 

But something seems off. The howls too gutteral, the dancing frenzied and animalian, the music strange and dischordant. And then you see their eyes, bloodshot and crazed, and you realise something is very wrong. As some instinct tells you to flee, to stay from their path, to block every sense against the hypnotic debauchery, the revellers are already upon you. The music swamps you as you steadily feel your mind become one with the endless festival, the great hunt of Dionysus, the dance of the Bacchae.

Happy New Year, everyone! Blanca's away without a functioning computer at the moment so I've been re-drafted in to help with the festivities. We talked over a bunch of NYE-themed monsters and the ones I liked most were the Bacchae, those paragonal partygoers who should serve an example (goal?!) to us all in their ability to keep a-rockin' through the early hours of the morning.

I myself  had a lovely dinner in London's chinatown with a friend and saw in 2012 being kettled in by police on Waterloo Bridge! but it wasn't so bad. Hope you all have a pleasant subsequent twelve months!

Gaspar by Adam Vian

You come across a huge deer on your travels through the Beastlands. It stands four times taller than a normal human being and antlers sprout not only from its head, but down its neck to its haunches, giving it a coat of grand bony spears. You're confident in the strength and tactics of your party as you charge through the bushes, where you surround the surprised Gaspar. It can't run anywhere without being met by fences of spears and swords. As you raise your weapons to pierce its comparatively soft underbelly, the Gaspar rears up and slams down.

There's a golden light and you can't see your quarry anymore, nor the eternal afternoon sun of Kirgala, nor the ancient trees of the Beastlands. The Gaspar didn't leave, but you did.

--

Drawing by Adam Vian of Super Flash Bros, since I'm currently trying to get my old laptop to cooperate with me and Photoshop.

Happy Holidays, folks.

Demilich

In the darkness you make out a pile of treasure. Seated atop all this is a dessicated severed head, dusty, parchment-like skin pulled tight against the skull. The treasure gleams green in the arcane glow of the emeralds that line its mouth and stare out at you from its head. It does not move. Roll for Fortitude.

A lich is what happens when a wizard thinks living is for squares and makes itself into a skele-zombie to continue studying magic throughout eternity.

A demilich is what happens when a lich decides that plain ol' having a body's for squares and decides to encase its soul into a gem-studded bone. Normally a skull. They can be an evil sentient bejewelled rib if they feel like it.

So a demilich is even more dangerous than a regular lich, created by Gary Gygax in the infamous Tomb of Horrors adventure for the purpose of killing any player who thought D&D is just a game. In addition to all the spells that a normal lich would have, the demilich has a signature ability: trap the soul. It basically sucks the spirit out of your body (which instantly crumbles to ash) and traps it in one of its gems. It can wipe out a whole party in just over 20 seconds, combat time.

Don't worry, your soul won't be trapped inside the skull forever. The demilich will slowly eat you over the course of 24 hours.

Wraith (formerly Tark Skulltaker, human barbarian)

Tark Skulltaker was our party's barbarian. Due to an unfotunate set of attacks involving wraiths, he died. Also unfotunately, when you're killed by a wraith, you rise as one seconds later, so that meant we had to double kill his evil spirit.

Wraiths are one of your standard D&D monsters for horror campaigns, when you want things to get a bit dangerous. We found one that had been killing kids and slew it dead, but not before withering away Tark and my pony Butterbutt. These monsters are extra dangerous because they not only hurt you when they attack you, they also drain the life from you (in D&D language, Constitution drain, the deadliest of drains). They have an aura around them that spooks animals, making it difficult for rangers, druid or just anyone who fights from horseback to engage in combat. Third, they're not solid, making them super difficult to hit. Spackle was pretty useless in that particular combat until I remembered I'm the one with the wand of holy magic and started whacking the wraith with it.

RIP Tark.

At least this means that the guy that played him is gonna get a second character portrait now. But not for a while, so that means I get to go back to doing regular monsters!

Valenmar (human cleric) and Edge (tiefling rogue)

Like most parties, we have a rogue and a cleric. Our rogue is a tiefling (supposedly, since he doesn't actually show any quasi-demonic abilities or traits) who specialized in knife-throwing, and the cleric is a human optimized for destroying the undead. Like, literally, we'd walk into a room filled with skeletons, he'd flash his holy symbol and boom. Everything's dead. The guy playing the cleric recently left the group due to the amount of stuff he's been doing, so that's gonna make things a little more deadly. We use my pony to detect when there are undead stalking us.

One more character to go now!

Tsar'goth Nou'ara, Half-Orc

Tsar'goth is one part team muscle, one part divine warrior. He's our paladin, and despite the half-orcness and the black armor, he serves Iomedae, the good goddess of Justice and Courage (her Greyhawk D&D equivalent would be Heironeous), and comes from the same temple our cleric. His thing is that his face is always in shadow from either his helmet of his hood, so nobody actually knows exactly what his face looks like, but we're banking he's either exceptionally ugly or mindblowingly beautiful.

Half Orcs are one of the core races of D&D, despite certain implications regarding to the conception of the creature. People normally play them as barbarians, since it fits so well, but I really like to see exceptions.

He's like 7ft tall, so Spackle quite often hitches rides on his shoulders to look around further or just because. One time we were looking for this woman that'd gotten lost in a moor and we had to roll Stealth checks to avoid being noticed by an interdimensional teleporting spider with a woman's face (I love this game). I scored a 30 on my roll, so I like to think that the spider didn't get a good look at me and thought Spackle was a tuft of blue feathers on Tsar'goth's helmet.

Also he's got a halo because Spackle is in the habit of casting light on his helmet whenever we need a light source. Why? Becuase she done gots herself a sense of theatrics, that's why.


Aaaaand with this one I'm totally back on schedule in terms of weeks skipped. Let's see how long this who being on schedule thing lasts.

Owlbear by Tara Helfer

I'm gonna be doing some work for an project called 72 Demons. A collection of artists will each be doing one of the demons features in Ars Goetia, a 17th century grimoire. The head of this project, Tara Helfer, offered to do an art trade, where I do a header for her blog and she submits a monster for mine. Well, I haven't gotten around to my side of the deal yet, but she certainly has. She even prepared the blurb for me.

      

Owlbears are probably the crossbred creation of a demented wizard; given the lethality of this creation, it is quite likely that the wizard who created them is no longer alive. Owlbears are vicious, ravenous, aggressive, and evil tempered at all times. Owlbears are a cross between a giant owl and a bear. They are covered with a thick coat of feathers and fur, brown-black to yellow-brown in color. The 8-foot-tall males, which weigh between 1,300 and 1,500 pounds, are darker colored. The beaks of these creatures are yellow to ivory and their terrifying eyes are red-rimmed. Owlbears speak their own language, which consists of very loud screeches of varying length and pitch.
An owlbear's main weakness is also its greatest strength -- its ferocity. Because owlbears are so bad-tempered, they stop at nothing to kill a target. It is not difficult to trick an owlbear into hurling itself off a cliff or into a trap, provided you can find one.

The owlbear walks a line between the whimsical and the most fearsome beasts. Art featuring the owlbear tends to split in two different directions. Apart from the big, bad and bloodthirsty, there's a tendency to draw the owlbear as an awkward and misunderstood creature - pretty embarrassing for a killer. And why not? The owlbear doesn't make a lot of sense in terms of evolution and is excessively armed for a forest predator, making it my favorite d&d monster.
I wanted to draw the owlbear with a more flexible, feathery form rather than a bear's. While it's known for it's deadly "hug", I imagine the face-full of beak following would be much worse.

      

Also, my kobold illustration was used in a website called Delvers, where the 2e campaign stories of guy, his girlfriend and her two itty girls  are collected.

Cassimara Raventhorn, Dhampir

Cassimara is the archer of our team, with an unusual combination of classes (ranger/rogue/inquisitor, I think). She hunts for undead with our team. What makes her unusual is that she's a dhampir, i.e. her dad was a vampire. Our team cleric is an "expert" undead killer who didn't notice this until she revealed it to us like three sessions into the game. It makes for an unusual team member since our cleric is pretty prone to accidentally hurting her with her energy channels, and always has to give her a heads up before he starts blasting things.

For healing, the first part of our adventure was pretty useful. We got these things called haunt siphons that are used to trap ghosts (think the traps for Ghostbusters). So we've got these bottles filled with unfortunate souls that she sometimes uncorks when she needs a little pick-me-up. She's never shown the whole "bloodlust" thing that dhampir are occasionally supposed to have, but I guess eating souls balances it out.

The closest thing to a dhampir in D&D is the Half-Vampire template, which is still a little bit annoying because of level adjustment things. D&D is rife with templates. I think Dragon magazine had a special issue dedicated to various templates for the offspring of the living and dead. Paizo did the Dhampir race, a much less powerful version of the Half-Vampire, so that you can play them from the get-go.

Spackle Thrush, Gnome

Spackle Thrush is a travelling juggler/joker in Ustalav, and friend of the now deceased Professor Lorrimer. She's still a young gnome, but her race is naturally inclined to travelling and seeking thrills the second they reach adulthood. She's not a combatant and is a firm believer that if you're nice to people, they'll be nice to you.

Spackle Thrush is my gnome bard for the current game I'm playing. Technically this is cheating for the Dungeons and Drawings blog, since it's a Pathfinder game. But Pathfinder is also known as D&D 3.75 on the internet, so I'm gonna let it count. I normally play super serious characters, so I decided to play a really comical, super friendly character. Maybe not such a good choice, since we're playing the Carrion Crown adventure path, which is supposed to be horror.

I really like the gnomes in Pathfinder. The problem I found with gnomes in classic D&D was that they weren't much different from halflings. They were both quirky short races, with halflings being a little more sneaky and gnomes being a little more magical. In Pathfinder, they definitely made gnomes their own thing; they're former fairies that got stuck in the mortal world. I'm not sure if Wizards did a similar thing to gnomes in 4th edition, but I know they removed them from the core player races (they've since been added again).

My favourite things about Pathfinder gnomes is that they're essentially immortal. They don't die of old age, but of boredom. Literally. They have something called The Bleaching, which means that if they don't regularly experience fantastic and exciting stuff, they begin to lose their colour and perky personalities until they fade away. Boredom is to gnomes what heart disease is to humans.