"One Thing About Santa Clarita I Could Never Stomach: All The Damn Vampires"

Enjoy another new Dark Inheritance for Weird Frontiers.  This'un rounds out the various "main undeadlies" included in the core rules.  PDF is over in the files!

NEW DARK INHERITANCE – VAMPIRE

Power costs 1 point of Personality.

Kin-folk:  Vampire

Duration:  1d3+CL rounds

Visage:  The tommyknocker’s face becomes chiropteran, with ridiculously protruding ears, flattened upturned nose, and jutting snaggle-toothed fangs.  Their sunken eyes glow with unholy radiance, and fingers, connected by webbed skin, sharpen to elongated points.  Dripping spittle renders them nigh-unintelligible.  Attire becomes shrouded in cobwebs writhing with insects and graveworms.

Power:  The tommyknocker’s senses heighten to those of an apex predator.  They can see in abject darkness, and gain a +4 bonus to all visual-, auditory-, olfactory-, and gustatory-related rolls.  Furthermore, the tommyknocker gains a wall-crawling climb speed of 20’, and the ability to make standing leaps of 15’.

Curse:  The tommyknocker becomes malevolently ravenous for the lifeforces of the weak and infirm.  They must make a WIL Save of DC 10 each round to avoid assaulting the closest ally / friendliest NPC with the lowest current Hit Point total.  A successful attack grapples the victim, doing 1d6 biting damage the first round and 1d4 exsanguination damage each subsequent round until the effect ends.  Living targets reduced to 0 Hit Points in this fashion awaken as Vampires after three moonrises with a burning hatred for their tommyknocker sire.

Be Fruitflyful And Mummify, Y'all!

I love DCC, and been enjoying the heck outta Weird Frontiers via Zoom.  (For the uninitiated, it's essentially Goodman Games' version of Deadlands.)

Here's a new Dark Inheritance for Tommyknockers, PCs who die during the funnel process and come back as spoooooky undead.

Hope y'all find some use!  (And the PDF version is over in the files.)

NEW DARK INHERITANCE – MUMMY

Power costs 1 point of Personality.

Kin-folk: Mummy

Duration: 1d3+CL rounds

Visage: The tommyknocker’s body desiccates. Their skin tightens and shrivels, and their height diminishes by six inches. Sinews pop and joints grind with every movement. Attire becomes weathered, tattered, and drab.

Power: The tommyknocker’s jaws distend to disgorge frenzied bugs (scorpions and centipedes if assuming the mien of an American mummy, or scarabs and locusts if Egyptian, or crawdads and dragonflies if bog variety) that swarm all targets within a 10’ long, 6’ wide-at-apex cone. For the duration, victims suffer 1d4+1 damage per round, and sentient opponents lose 1d2+1 AC [only at the onset; not cumulative] as they panic from the infestation. The tommyknocker’s compadres are ordinarily unaffected if caught in the area of effect.

Curse: The tommyknocker is overwhelmed by feelings of smug superiority and contempt for the lesser beings that dare intrude in its domain. They must make a WIL Save of DC 10 each round to keep the swarm focused on enemies; failure means bugs attack foes and friends alike.

The Guys Of Wrexus Are Upon You — Meet Professor Morgan Mist, Organist!

 

Professor Morgan Mist, Organist

Beneath Gunspoint's standard shanty-fortress cacophony floats tones—sometimes dulcet, sometimes sonorous, sometimes jaunty, always harmonious—of Ancient keyboards.  Following them leads to an unassuming, curtain-draped shopfront known as The Organ Exchange, Grueston's premier purveyor of musical mechanisms, vocal lessons, and second-hand organs.

Both definitions apply.  Of organs, that is.

Polydactylic proprietor Professor Morgan Mist razzles (dazzles cost extra) patrons with jingles from The Long Days Ago, corny repartee, and promises of teaching YOU mastery of an instrument in six easy lessons.  And no one beats his deals on slightly-used spleens—just ask 'im, he'll tell ya!—so buy, sell, and trade your scavenged saxophones and pilferred innards at The Organ Exchange today!

The Professor is available for weddings, spawings, batty mitzvahs, and brises, though he needs a month's advance notice and an intact carton of wet-wipes as a deposit.

Little is known about The Professor.  He's clearly an undead, but his species is a mystery.  And though it seems he'd be in cahoots with the necromancers of The Necrozone (what with their similar graverobbery pursuits and all), Mist often badmouths them... in song, even.  His diss ditties get intense.

Rumors persist that Mist's fez has either hypnotic properties (better to impart musical mastery in students...?), or an evil li'l critter living within.  But not both, because that'd be crazy.

[In Don't Mess With Wrexus: The Movie, Professor Morgan Mist is portrayed by Crispin Glover.]

Don't Mess With Wrexus — Headstone World

  

Located about five miles north of Gunspoint up the blasted Die-45 freeway, Headstone World is Grueston's premier provider of monuments and memorials for the living impaired.

Sure, ya could git that traditional marker of stone or li'l bronze placard with yer name all tasteful and dainty... but why not splurge for an inflatable, skydancing tube-spook to hex any that dare spit, piss, or worse on your grave?  Or an ensorcelled effigy of skull, bone, and Thangs Man Was Not Meant To Know?

Want yer eternal (temporary?) resting place awash in day-glo and neon like Saint Rob Zombie's fever dreams?  They can do it!

Want fog machines and spoooooky ambient audio for convenient monster mashes, bashes, and / or champagne jams?  Easy!  ¡No hay problema!  Không vấn đề!

Want caged go-go ghouls suspended over yer tomb to shimmy ya into Oblivion?  Only an upcharge away!

Convenient payment plans available in alllllll the currencies:  corn-squeezins, fat stacks o' toilet paper; teeth; firstborns; souls.  Or even have yer not-yet-interred corpse work it off, reanimation-style, fer only the teensiest timeframe of a year or ten.  Whatever works best for yer kinfolk's budget!

Buy today, and git a free dashboard batquarium!  Supplies are limited!

(Please note that Headstone World is operated by the necromancers at the ruined campuses of the combined Commonwealth Institute Of Funeral Service and The National Museum Of Funeral History, aka The Necrozone.)

"What's Nuked, Scooby-Doomsday?" — Cutler

Cutler

No. Enc.:  1 (1d4)
Alignment:  Chaotic
Movement:  90' (30')
     —Swim:  90' (30')
Armor Class:  5
Hit Dice:  10
Attacks:  2 (2 fists)
Damage:  1d8 / 1d8
Save:  L8
Morale:  10
Hoard Class:  X +1d4 waterlogged-n-rusted gizmos
XP:  4,500

Congregating near "graveyards" of sunken ships and beached hulks, cutlers are the centuries-dead corpses of Ancient aquanauts reanimated by colonies of intelligent algae.  Their quasi-living husks pulse with unholy radioactivity; accordingly, they only Surprise on a roll of 1 on 1d6.

Cutlers feed on the fluids of their victims, which they leech through weedy, vampiric tendrils. Vine-entangled targets suffer the standard automatic 2d6 constriction damage per round, plus an additional 2d6 draining damage.  A cutler with prey in its coils may still pummel other targets without penalty.  Victims can only be freed by killing the cutler itself.

Cutlers can be communicated with via telepathy, but their dark thoughts are peppered with salty expletives from both human vernacular and the secret language of plants.

Mutations:  Fear Generation, Full Senses (Sonar), Prehensile Tendrils (Constricting) (Modified), Radioactive Emissions, Reflective Cellular Structure (Fire / Heat, Radiation)

—

[Inspired by Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! episode #2, "A Clue For Scooby-Doo" (1969)]

"What's Nuked, Scooby-Doomsday?" — Voltergeist

Voltergeist

No. Enc.:  1 (1)
Alignment:  Chaotic
Movement:  75' (25')
Armor Class:  4
Hit Dice:  12
Attacks:  1 (touch)
Damage:  6d6
Save:  L12
Morale:  11
Hoard Class:  XVIII
XP:  12,400

Voltergeists are the sizzling psychic manifestations of those killed via electrocution. The hostile beings appear as portly, plodding, 7'-tall bipeds composed of crackling energy.  Despite their incandescence and crackling noisiness, voltergeists are bizarrely stealthy (Surprising on a 1-4 on 1d6).

Voltergeists can burn through any obstruction.  Simple locks and doors take a single round, while thicker walls and barricades may take 1d6 rounds.

Voltergeists feed on electricity, and absorb it from any contraption they contact; artifacts are drained at a rate of 1d10 charges per round.  They also hate mechanical devices in all their forms (including robots), and target them for destruction after dealing with living opponents.

Voltergeists are wholly immune to all adverse environmental effects, and can only be damaged and / or restrained by Mental Mutations and magnetism-based attacks.

Mutations:  Energy-Retaining Cell Structure (x2), Fear Generation

—

[Inspired by The Scooby-Doo Show episode #4, "Watt A Shocking Ghost" (1976)]

"What's Nuked, Scooby-Doomsday?" — Cluckenstein

Cluckenstein

No. Enc.:  1 (1d4)
Alignment:  Chaotic
Movement:  120' (40')
Armor Class:  3
Hit Dice:  14
Attacks:  3 (2 claws, 1 bite)
Damage:  2d8 / 2d8 / 1d10
Save:  L9
Morale:  10
Hoard Class:  XIV
XP:  6,000

The absurd cluckensteins are 8'-tall mountains of fanged, feathered fury.  Crisscrossed with scars and sutures, their misshapen bodies are comprised of compressed poultry remnants given unholy life by deranged processing-plant AIs.  Certain avianoids often use them as guards.

Cluckensteins attack with battering fists, and if both strike successfully in the same round, the target is crushed for an additional 4d6 damage.  The beaked brutes are mighty enough to ignore damage from conventional firearms, and they barrel through walls, doors, and blockades without impediment.

Cluckensteins can operate vehicles and heavy equipment.  They are also capable of halting, gravelly speech, but usually only bellow threats like, "CLUCK SMASH!!!"

All artifacts found in a cluckenstein's rancid nest are in Condition 2 or less [p. 42 of the Mutant Future Core Rules].

Mutations:  Fear Generation

—

Inspired by A Pup Named Scooby-Doo episode #17, "Chickenstein Lives!" (1989).

And for the Savage Worlds version, click here!

Devastation Drive-In 3-D — 'Return Of The Living Dead III' (1993) (Part 2)

Artifact:  Brainfreezer

The Ancients spared no effort or expense in researching ways to contain Trioxin-created zombie outbreaks, and cryonic weaponry seemed the perfect method to dispatch the living dead...

...BUT LITTLE DID THEY REALIZE THAT THEIR FAILSAFE WOULD SPECTACULARLY FAIL...AND BE ANYTHING BUT SAFE!!!

A brainfreezer is a propellant-powered rifle that fires "paratic infusion"¹ projectiles that (theoretically) render braindead ghouls inert through cryonic statis.  A laser sight adorns the top of the weapon, and a pressurized canister trails from the back.  It's quite cumbersome and bulky (resulting in a default -2 To Hit modifier), and generally requires two people to operate: one to aim and shoot, and the other to load / reload and keep the hoses attached and untangled.

And speaking of loading, a brainfreezer holds only one paratic projectile at a time, and once fired, it takes a full round to reload and seat the ammo (meaning the weapon can only be used every other round).  A series of red-to-green lights synced with escalating tones (beep-Beep-BEEP-BEEEEP!!!) alerts the wielder that the brainfreezer is ready.

The "paratic acid" inside an active, usable projectile glows an icy blue.  The darts come in padded cases that hold up to 20 units, and any given case found in a cache contains 3d6.

Brainfreezers never made it out of the R&D phase, as they were too unwieldy, too slow, and had too many components to be useful in real-time combat.  Furthermore, the holding times of the paratic chemical were wildly erratic; a braindead could stay rigid for anywhere from 30 seconds to 3 minutes (3d6 rounds) before wearing off...allowing the zombies to revive and attack at full combat readiness.  And any shot that WASN'T a headshot knocked 1d4 rounds off the total.

The Mutant Lord should secretly determine the distinct paralysis duration for each and every braindead shot by a brainfreezer.  The minimum holding duration is 3 rounds with a headshot, 2 rounds without.

Any non-braindead struck by a brainfreezer sustains 2d8 cold damage.

Braindead, Weaponized

No. Enc.:  1d4 (1d6)

Alignment:  Chaotic

Movement:  60' (20')

Armor Class:  2

Hit Dice:  16

Attacks:  3 (2 claws, 1 bite)

Damage:  2d8+2 / 2d8+2 / 2d6+2

Save:  L8

Morale:  12

Hoard Class:  XXI

XP:  4,200

Weaponized braindeads, standard braindeads fitted with metal exoskeletons agonizingly drilled straight into their flesh and bone, were intended as "biochemical weapons driven by meat batteries"².  After the failure of the brainfreezer technology, the frames were deemed viable alternatives to control the brain-craving undead via hydraulic "lock / unlock" levers and oral restraints. Weaponized braindeads could be airlifted into enemy territory, activated and unleashed, and then rendered immobile after slaughtering all they encountered.

A mechanized braindead's manual "on / off switch" is located on its backside, and anyone attempting to manipulate it (to either setting) must make a successful Ability Check Vs STR due to general difficulty of use and rust / corrosion.  And a freed weaponized braindead won't passively stand by for deactivation...and they have the tendency to rip out their mouth-guards....

Thanks to their exoskeleons, weaponized braindeads are frightfully strong, and able to bend bars, break doors, and shatter barricades—not to mention puny humans!—with ease. Furthermore, they can still function even if their fleshy components take significant damage; a weaponized braindead still attacks until reduced to -10 HP.

Weaponized braindeads are identical to the standard variety in all other respects.

Mutations:  Toxic Weapon ("Zom-bite")

1,2:  Dialogue from Return Of The Living Dead 3