Radioactive Review — 'Wisdom From The Wastelands #19: Robots, Part 4'

If the prior robot-centric Wisdom From The Wastelands supplements (#15, #16, and #18) make up a decadent sundae of murderous mechanical goodness, then WFTW #19:  Robots, Part 4 serves as the  sprinkles.  It's not essential, but nonetheless provides plenty of color and crunch and texture, and makes everything better.

And it's sure goes down tastier than gummy worms.  Just who the hell are those people that genuinely like gummy worms as a topping?!  Freaks me out, man.

NO.

This issue is a hodge-pot and mush-podge of assorted robo-tidbits.

You get a chart on how to apply the standard Mutant Future artifact condition rules to robots: the worse the condition = the shoddier the 'bot.  Not exactly inspired, but it's over in an eyeblink.

There's alternative energy sources, which turn your usual nuke-powered deathbots into coal-belchin', solar-slurpin', mechano-vampire'n monstrosities out of John Henry's fevered nightmares.  I liked this section.

Then come the robo-remoras, and all I could think of were certain Transformers toys and their li'l accessories that are ALSO robots.

And you get three whole pages of new gear and weapons, so a Mutant Lord can trick out his killborgs with nanites and drug-generators and tractor beams and wormhole drives and bubble-guns and giganto-rays and necro-beams.  Great, great stuff.

I've faulted author Derek Holland before for his...thoroughness...but the guy really does think of everything.  And with his robot supplements, he truly goes above and beyond putting the science-fantasy in your science-fantasy rpgs.

Still the best 99¢ value on the PDF market.  Buy it here.

"D" is for "Diabalope"

Diabalope  ("Impaler")

No. Enc.:  2d8
Alignment:  Neutral
Movement:  210' (70')
Armor Class:  3
Hit Dice:  5
Attacks:  1 (gore)
Damage:  5d4+5
Save:  L3
Morale:  11
Hoard Class:  None
XP:  950

Diabalopes are dainty herbivores with 5 prominent horns jutting from their skulls.  Bioluminescent optic nodules dangle from their heads, granting the creatures 360-degree vision; accordingly, they are never Surprised.  Despite their slight builds, diabalopes are aggressive and territorial, and capable of fending off even the deadliest predators.

Diabalopes discharge blistering beams (Radiation Class 7) from their snout-horns.  

Mutations:  Beguiling, Damage Turning, Energy Ray (Radiation), Extra Parts (Eyes)

Mutants In The News — "GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" Edition

GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Mutant Spewture — BLAH, BLAH!!! THEY WANT TO SUCK YOUR GUNK!!!

Snobe

No. Enc.:  1d4 (1d10)
Alignment:  Chaotic
Movement:  120' (40')
Armor Class:  3
Hit Dice:  13
Attacks:  3 (2 claws, 1 bite) or 1d4 (spines)
Damage:  1d8 / 1d8 / 1d12 + drain, or 1d6 each
Save:  L10
Morale:  11
Hoard Class:  None
XP:  9,600

Along with regular clobbering, cremefillian parents keep their hoodlum spawnlings in line with nightmarish bedtime stories.  (They are kinda lousy that way; then again, their jerky kids kinda deserve it.)  And no tales are more terrifying than those of the snobes, spiny abominations who stalk the sludgescapes specifically for cremefillian victims...

...BECAUSE THE STORIES ARE TRUE!!!

Snobes are androgynous, 5' tall, spherical beasts with jutting fangs, spiky brows, and neon-pink hides covered in jagged filaments.  These filaments normally lay flat, but can be launched in 1d4 clusters that do 1d6 damage each at a range of up to 75'.  They are quite sweet to the taste, according to those shot in the face.

Though snobes prey primarily on cremefillians (so as to slake their unholy thirsts on succulent cremoglobin), any goop will do.  If a snobe successfully strikes with all 3 melee attacks in the same round, it greedily clamps down, leeching an automatic 2d8 damage per round thereafter.  Only in death does a snobe release its grip.

Snobes have the same resistances (sickness, contamination, aging, radiation, etc.) as cremefillians, and nigh-identical builds as donk-types.  In fact, due to the numerous similarities between the species, many believe that snobes are mutant donks.  Or undead donks.  Or mutano-dead donks.  Some even say that that any cremefillian who dies at the fangs of a snobe rises from the slime 3 days later...as a new snobe!!!  Or maybe as a pastry demi-messiah.  Man, cremefillians can't agree on anything.

Snobes ooze marshmallow ichor (Class 10 paralytic poison) when injured.  That's just nasty.

Mutations:  Dermal Poison Slime, Spiny Growth (Medium)

Kinda-Sorta-The-Designer's Notes:  I came up with snobes myself, but they wouldn't be possible without Andy Hopp's brain-seeds.  And I'm crossing my fingers that I coined "cremoglobin"!!!

Mutant Spewture — Don't DARE Call Her "Cupcake".

Big Debbie
Gooey Goon Giant

NPC
Character Type:  Cremefillian (Donk)
Alignment:  Neutral

Level:  6
Hit Points:  62
Armor Class:  4
Movement:  120' (40')

Abilities
STR:  20
DEX:  14
CON:  18
INT:  6
WIL:  15
CHA:  16

Modifiers
) To Hit / Damage (Melee):  +4 / +5
) To Hit (Missile):  +1
) AC:  -1
) Technology Rolls:  -5%
) Reaction Adjustment:  -1

Saving Throws
Energy Attacks:  9
Poison / Death:  8
Stun Attacks:  10
Radiation:  9

Mutations:  Dermal Poison Slime (Class 7), Increased Physical Attribute (Strength)

Attacks / Weapons / Abilities 
)  Pummel (2d4 + 3d6 +5)
)  Random Bludgeon Of Opportunity  (by weapon + 3d6 + 5)
)  +1 Melee Damage (Level Bonus, factored into Modifiers)

)  Immune to Toxins, Diseases, Pollutants, Radiation, Aging-Effects

Equipment
)  Vehicle / mount of choice (always something massive and intimidating)

XP:  85,050

Description

Big Debbie is one of the burliest, surliest, orneriest, thorneriest Cremefillians in the Mutant Future.  She's over 7' tall and just as wide, and dwarfs her fellow donks.  And her atypical icing coloration makes her stand out even more.

Big Debbie hates standing out.

In fact, she hates pretty much everything, except brutality, carnage, destruction, mayhem, agony, and your usual assorted violences.  And that attitude makes her one of the most useful and employable "specialists" around.  You need a bounty hunted, or a leg broken, or a bar bounced, or a pit fought, or a body guarded?  Or just want someone crushed into paste on general principle?  Big Debbie is your gal.

Big Debbie is a skilled rider of beastly mounts, and quite adept at driving Ancient vehicles that fit her girth.  Like monster-trucks.  And tanks.

Seriously, don't mess with Big Debbie.  She will wreck you.

Saucy Bonus Pinup!
(Taken by an ex-fling, who was later found in various pieces....)

Not-The-Designer's Notes:  This short-tempered, spherical psychopath is based on Andy Hopp's Cremefillians, from his Low Life cosmology.

Kinda-Sorta-The-Designer's Notes:  Big Debbie is based on my Mutant Future-ified version of Cremefillians.

Mutant Spewture — Here Come The Cremefillians!!!

Cremefillian

No. Enc.:  1d4 (1d10)
Alignment:  Neutral
Movement:  120' (40')
Armor Class:  5
Hit Dice:  12
Attacks:  1 (pummel, or melee weapon)
Damage:  2d4+3d6, or by weapon +3d6
Save:  L15
Morale:  10
Hoard Class:  XV
XP:  7,600

Sure, the Mutant Future has its fair share of bizarre beasts and twisted denizens...but it's the Cremefillians who take the cake.

Literally.

Cremefillians are surly, super-strong humanoids who usually appear in two varieties:  the 7-8' tall, semi-cylindrical, gangly-armed tweenks, and the 5' tall, sorta-spherical, shiny-glazed donks.  Their hides are confoundingly soggy, spongy, crumbly, and crusty. Sugary, too-white ichor runs through their veins.

Because of historical misdeeds done against them (involving oven-filled prison camps, cellophane shrouds, and Ancient dietary practices), Cremefillians revile Pure Humans, and Mutant Humans that don't look "funky enough".  Many embrace brutal lives of criminality, thuggery, mercenary-ery, and/or warlord-ishness, and they revel in martial combat.

Thanks to absorbing all manner of things that just shouldn't be absorbed, cremefillians are immune to all known diseases, toxins, pollutants, radiations, and aging effects, making them effectively immortal (assuming they avoid stabbings and bludgeonings and whatnot). Determine the Poison Class of their Dermal Poison Slime at random, but re-roll Classes 3 and below (making the minimum Class 4).

—

The Cremefillians are a playable Character Race.  They possess starting STR scores of 12+1d8, default ACs of 5, and 1d8 HP per point of CON, and also make Saving Throws as if 3 levels higher than their current level.  Cremefillians can carry triple the standard weight amounts, with values adjusted accordingly on the Movement and Encumbrance Table [Mutant Future Core Rules, p. 36].

Mutations:  Dermal Poison Slime (Modified), Increased Physical Attribute (Strength)

Not-The-Designer's Notes:  The Cremefillians are the brainchildren of the twisted Andy Hopp, from his Low Life cosmology.  I just Mutant Future'd 'em up, and added "donk" to the vernacular (at least I think I did).  Read all about them here!

Friends In Lowly Places

At Comicpalooza a few weeks back (which I attended as part of Skirmisher Publishing's entourage, which still boggles that they graciously and generously invited this reprobate along), I had the pleasure of hanging out with designer and artiste extraordinaire Andy Hopp, he of the surreal and snazzy Low Life supplement for the Savage Worlds engine.

If you're not familiar with the material, it's a post-post-post-apocalyptic Earth where plural 'ageddons (nukes, pollutants, aliens, comets, returned lost continents—ALL the biggies) turned our pristine blue-green marble into a grey-green glob of gunk.

Gone are the humans, flora, and fauna.  Now, "Planet Oith" is ruled by arthropods, annelids, sludges, weirdos, not-so-extra-terrestrials...and sentient snack cakes.

It's goofy.  It's giddy.  It's delirious.  It's diphtherious.  And it out-gonzos everything.

The art is what really does it for me.  Just check out these Dr.-Seuss-on-LSD beauties:

The Playable Races

The Same...But Now, In Glorious Black & White!

DONG LIFE.

I've always wanted to do something for Low Life, but didn't think it really fit my oh-so-serious mutant musings.  But the delightful, demented, and all-around deranged Mr. Hopp got me off my mental keister, and  set my inspirational slops a' slitherin'.  So expect to see some Mutant Future-y interpretations soon.

Seriously.  Just look at that guy.  THE FACE OF MADNESS.
(The bastard love-clone of Danny Devito and Dr. Emmett Brown, perhaps...?)

Oh, yeah!  There's a Kickstarter available, where you can give money and get cool swag in return; medium of exchange, meet goods and services!  AND you're supporting a revised edition of the core sourcebook.

I've pledged, so what more of a recommendation do you need?  GIVE THIS PROJECT ALL YOUR MONIES!!!

Do it.  Click right here.  You know you want to.

Radioactive Review — 'Wisdom From The Wastelands #18: Robots, Part 3'

I've applauded and raved about The Skirmisher Gang's great, Great, GREAT robot supplements.  They're by far my favorite Wisdom From The Wastelands releases, as they forgo rules crunch and instead slop on heapin' helpin's o' flavor.

Mmmmm.  Flavor-slop.

WFTW #18:  Robots, Part 3 carries on the grand tradition.  And it's infused with sly humor, which goes such a long way with me.  Oh, if only the dry biology supplements of which I haven't been fond had the same!  Seriously, Skirmishers...that's the secret with this reviewer.

Because I want you to give them your money, I'll only tantalize you with some choice bits. You'll have to learn the context yourselves, which can be had for less than the price of a fast food soft taco!

)  "...resembles a gore-spattered medical table with several spider-like articulated limbs...."

)  "Anyone suffering this attack must Save Versus Death at -8 or become a robotic slave."

)  "Currently active (and bored) powerbots often use the cables...so anything stepping on them will be electrocuted."

)  "...some ranchbots have taken to sterilizing both livestock and people...or, simply age them to death."

)  "Those that returned from faster-than-light testing went mad, and all of them have twitches."

)  "A variant...was used to collect people for the lunar prisons."

)  "Unfortunately, when the cataclysm struck, the sky was full of falling, burning homes and most were turned to scrap when they smashed into the ground."


And my absolute favorite, which made me cackle right here in my cubicle:

)  "It can also turn invisible, something useful for a 50' tall robot."


Gold.

—

Rounding out the issue are 6 new robo-cessories and 2 new armaments.  You can never have too many robo-cessories.

Buy it here.

Uranium In The Brainium...

...makes one insanium in the cranium.  (I'm pretty sure that's a line from the classic ol' skool joint, Life In Tha Manhattan Projectz, by Rob "MC Bombfather" Oppenheimer and Enrico "DJ Enfermo" Fermi.  Hip-hop hasn't been the same since they disbanded.)

I've never gone this long between posts before, but...man.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind, with two cons (Comicpalooza and North Texas RPG Con) and their requisite hijinks, family obligations (sooooo many birthdays near Mother's Day), work wonkiness (can you believe they expect me to do things?!), and absolutely maddening Random Encounters (like two separate, unrelated, utterly pointless car break-ins, and the corresponding repairs, replacements, and rage...and just what are they going to do with all those Heroclix, anyway?).

Oh, yeah.  I'm also getting hitched in two weeks, so there's all that rigmarole.

I'm so drained, I even put my Mutant Future and DCC campaigns on hold until July...AND THAT SIMPLY DOESN'T HAPPEN.

But I swear I've got tons of stuff in the pipeline.  The neurons are just slow, ya dig?

So lemme catch my breath and mainline this keg of Brawndo, and I'll be rarin' to go. Assuming the arrhythmia doesn't kill me first, of course.

Thanks for your patience.