"I Go Shunk-Whompin' All The Time." — Freya

Two games down and an upcoming one this weekend, it looks like I might just have a full-fledged Mutant Future campaign on my hands.

My trio of players cover the complete gaming spectrum:  Audrey has zero tabletop RPG experience, Robert played as a teen but hasn't hacked/slashed in decades, and Alana gobbles down a handful of d20s every morning for breakfast (her "special vitamins", she calls 'em).

—

The first session—and I use that word VERY loosely—was your general gabfest where I explained the genre ("You've know Dungeons & Dragons?  Think Ruins & Radiation.") and my setting.  They rolled up characters, and I sent them into the woods to test drive the rules with a random encounter.

I confess that I didn't have any lofty GM-ly goals or a noble quest or masterfully-detailed campaign threads.  I fully expected the group to think the whole thing ridiculous, and want to try something else.  I didn't go in very invested.

But the trio was hooked the second they finished statting up their PCs, because they had an absolute blast rolling those funky polyhedrals.  Audrey even whipped out her sketchbook, she was so enthused.  And their excitement was contagious, sucking me in, too.

Chalur

Robert came up with Chalur, a Mutant Human with decidedly reptilian features.  His random mutations were all over the place:  the beneficial Energy Ray (fire-blastin' hands), Complete Wing Development, and Chameleon Epidermis were saddled with Pain Sensitivity ("Double damage?  Really?") and Defective Dual Cerebellum.  Man, is Rob gonna be surly when his secret "Hyde brain" mutations kick in.....

Looking at him again, Chalur's got some vintage Gamma World mojo working, like he stepped right out of an official module.  I approve!

Fräu

Audrey rolled up Fräu, a Mutant Animal of the feline biped persuasion (it actually reads "Mutant Kitty" on her sheet).

And here's how she described her character, verbatim:  "She's sexy, but intelligent...and kind of a bitch."

Yikes.  I just report it, folks.

Along with claws and the GM-granted Increased Sense (Smell), her mutations came out to Psionic Flight, Chameleon Epidermis, and Reduced Oxygen Efficiency.  (I gotta say, two PCs possessing both flight and stealth powers made this Mutant Lord grind his teeth a bit from behind the screen.)  She also rolled crazy-high on Hit Points, coming in at 46 on 11d6.

Freya

Freya's Glamour Shot

And last but not least is Alana's Mutant Human, Freya.  She rolled a Strength of 4 and lousy Hit Points, but just killed on the mutations:  Increased Physical Attribute (Strength, +3d6 damage), Toxic Weapon (7d6), Aberrant Form (Natural Weapon, 1d8), Reflective Epidermis (Cold), Force Screen, and Mental Phantasm.  Only Negative Empathy tainted her power suite...but knowing how Alana plays, having NPCs constantly throwing the first punch is actually a boon for her.

Alana is great at spitballing concepts, and her PC just sprung to life like Athena from Zeus' divine character sheet.  She decided her Natural Weapon was icicle-sharp, poison-injecting monofilament hair.  And Freya's lack of obvious physical strength is all part of making people underestimate her...until she hulks out in combat.

Let me quote:  "She's a scrawny thing, but never loses a barfight.  She's a bit wishy-washy, and you either love her, or you hate her.  And you don't touch her hair."

—

That's just a damned fine group of Player Characters.

They spent a bit of time splurging on gear, and Chalur blew almost his entire roll on a 25 GP bottlecaps scratched-DVDs-and-Ancient-credit-cards guard dog.  Not letting that stand, Fräu bought a "guard cat" at the same cost.  

50 monies spent on pets, eh?  Oh, you silly, silly players.

—

As far as the adventure part of the evening went, I just slummed it with, "You're all professional scroungers who work for crime lord Exxon Honda, a one-legged elephant-dude with an eyepatch.  A few of his employees—fellow scroungers, some you may have worked with before—have gone missing, and you gotta go into the swamp to find them...but, really, not so much them as Mr. Honda's valuable tech.  They went that-a-way."

While I'm no Monty Haul GM, I wanted the group to get acquainted with the "dark ages meets fantasy future" vibe of GPA ("Gonzo Post-Apocalpytic"), so Honda's major domo Arby Nyquil let them borrow—as in, better give them back...OR ELSE—random Ancient artifacts from a box.  They grabbed some plastic eggs (grenades), a pistol (plasma blaster), and a metallic stick (warp-field mace), and I went through the sacred ritual of making them test the tech to figger things out.  Tragically, no one died in a grenade-related mishap, so they they left Gunspoint and ventured West into the swamp towards the ruins of Woebrook.  

It was time to treat them to some combat.  The group ran into a lone shunk, who kinda sauntered up to them all adorable-like...and then sprayed them with noxious blood, which soon summoned 30+ more of the ravenous little varmints.

Chalur took one look at the toothy school, and flew straight upwards, ever so smug and proud of himself.

And that's when the shunks veered as one and swarmed the poor, poor dog left helplessly on the ground.

CHOMP-CHOMP-CHOMP!!!

You can't out-smug a shunk.

The look on Robert's face was absolutely, positively priceless.

Seeing the dog getting mulched made Fräu, guard cat, and Freya scamper onto some rusting wreckage.  They soon realized that shunks make terrible jumpers, and started clobbering the beasties from higher ground, while Chalur rained flame from above.

And thus was born the Mutant Future's newest outdoor sport, "shunk-whomping".

—

Stay tuned for Session #2!

Brand Names, Brand Identity — The Remix

With the relaunch of my Don't Mess With Wrexus campaign, I started cranking out NPCs using my handy-dandy, much-beloved, don't-know-how-anyone-can-live-without-'em Post-Apocalyptic Naming Charts.  

I originally designed the lists with the d20 in mind, for obvious reasons.  But since Goodman Games' Dungeon Crawl Classics delivered the majestic d24 polyhedral to gaming tables across the land, it's time I tweaked and expanded things.

Watch out, d30.  You may be summoned to duty sooner than later.

—

Download the PDF here or use the box on the right.  I'm keeping the original version, too, in case y'all prefer it.

"P" is for "Pacabra"

Pacabra

No. Enc.:  1d4 (1d4)
Alignment:  Chaotic
Movement:  180' (60')
Armor Class:  3
Hit Dice:  3
Attacks:  6 (4 claws, 2 bites)
Damage:  1d4 / 1d4 / 1d4 / 1d4 / 1d6 / 1d6
Save:  L3
Morale:  9
Hoard Class:  VI
XP:  140

Pacabras are 3-4' tall, hunched, hairless bipeds with tapered claws, jagged fangs, and blackened, necrotic skin.  They hop after prey with uncanny speed and agility, and make standing leaps of 25+ feet.

The diseased creatures' mouths swarm with infectious parasites.  Anyone bitten who fails a Saving Throw Vs. Poison contracts mega-mange [see below].

Mutations:  Enhanced Vision (Night), Pain Insensitivity [D], Quickness, Reduced Immune System [D], Toxic Weapon ("Mite Bite")

—

Mega-Mange

Save Modifier:  -2

Infection Duration:  4 weeks

Affected Stats:  DEX -3, CHA -6, WIL -3

Damage Per Day:  1d4

Mega-mange is a skin disease caused by ravenous parasites.  Those infected are driven mad due to incessant itching (which actually dulls the pain of external attacks) and an overpowering thirst for the blood of the living.

Symptoms:  Complete hair loss, deadened skin, weeping lesions, agonizing itching, and literal bloodthirstiness.  Also induces both the Hemophilia and Pain Insensitivity Physical Mutation Drawbacks.

Mutants In The News — "Mini-Mutants Amok" Edition

It's no secret 'round these parts that I've loved and collected mutant toys in all their glory since I was a wee one, but Lego just released just about my favorite mutanimals of all time as part of their Legends Of Chima line.

The Villains:  Crawley, Winzar, and Razcal

I mean, just look at that art.  Makes great Mutant Future or Gamma World portraits, right?

And thanks to a certain someone having some spare birthday loot, here's how they look in person!

Freaktastic Four Forever!!!

(The batty-man is from a different series entirely, but he's always welcome to hang with his fellow evil animals.)

Razcal

Crawley, and his Claw Ripper

DC's lawyers want to talk to you, Vampire Bat....

Razcal's Glider

Winzar's Pack Patrol

I love how the vehicles look all creature-iffic.

And last month, our friend Brutorz Bill challenged some brave souls out there to stat up a mighty Chima vehicle for Mutant Future...and I accept!  Once I get my hands on the set, I'm TOTALLY gonna blog-ify it.

"L" is for "Lepterran"

Lepterran  ("Mothman")

No. Enc.:  1 (1d3)
Alignment:  Chaotic
Movement:  60' (20')
         —Fly:  180' (60')
Armor Class:  6
Hit Dice:  9
Attacks:  2 or 1 (2 claws, or 1 weapon)
Damage:  1d8 / 1d8, or by weapon +2
Save:  L9
Morale:  8
Hoard Class:  VII
XP:  4,500

Lepterrans are lithe, 8' tall, asexual humanoids with massive wings made up of scaly feathers / feathery scales.  Their feet end in prehensile claws, with which they manipulate objects and wield weapons.  Wriggling clusters of tentacles obscure their mouths, and their red eyes burn with malevolence.

Five times per day, a lepterran can discharge a 25' radius cloud comprised of shimmering, microscopic shards that seemingly have no effect on any caught within.  However, 3d8 hours after exposure, all inorganic objects (armor, weapons, artifacts, robots, architectural structures...even Android PCs) exposed suffer Class 6 poison damage.  [The Mutant Lord should determine the specific effects on characters' possessions.]  And the damage is cumulative—if, say, the lepterran discharges 3 times on the same targets, the final damage roll is 18d6!

A lepterran can metamorph into a waterfowl (heron, stork, crane, flamingo, etc.) of similar size and mass, and attack 3 times per round with beak (1d10) and 2 claws (1d6 / 1d6), and fly at 180' (60').

Mutations:  Chameleon Epidermis, Energy Ray (Any), Metamorph, Reflective Epidermis (Electricity), Toxic Weapon ("Crumble-Cloud")

"C" is for "Cugaro"

Cugaro

No. Enc.:  1d6 (2d8)
Alignment:  Neutral
Movement:  150' (50')
  —Swim:  45' (15')
Armor Class:  5
Hit Dice:  4
Attacks:  1 or 3 (weapon, or 2 claws, 1 bite)
Damage:  by weapon, or 1d6 / 1d6 / 1d8
Save:  L4
Morale:  9
Hoard Class:  VII, plus 1 weapon
XP:  465

The cugaro (both singular and plural) are sentient, semi-aquatic felines that dwell in marshy areas and murky ruins.  With webbed paws and snorkel-like organs that elongate up to 5' long, they are well-suited to prowling waterways, and can stay submerged indefinitely.  Cugaro Surprise on 1-4 on 1d6.

Cugaro possess vast mental powers, and are skilled in telekinetically manipulating objects and artifacts.  Each individual always has a favored weapon, and wields it as much as possible over teeth and claws; they're civilized, you see.

The cugaro fancy themselves as collectors and caretakers of Ancient knowledge.  In the Hugeston, Wrexus area, a large tribe of cugaro have claimed a grounds of a ruined university as their own.

Mutations:  Aberrant Form ("Snorkels"), Enhanced Vision (Night Vision), Mind Thrust, Neural Telekinesis, Neural Telepathy, Quick Mind

Gunspoint: A Wretched Dive Of Pondscum And Villainy

It's a bounty of polyhedrals, because in addition to my new Dungeon Crawl Classics campaign, I've relaunched my Mutant Future game for The Woman and some of her work chums.

Welcome, y'all, to the baleful bayous of Hugeston, Wrexus!

The swampy, mucky, sludgy campaign centers on Gunspoint, an Ancient shopping mall converted into a ramshackle fortress / trading hub / shantytown / sinmonger's paradise. Pole-powered barges, trilobison-drawn rafts, and rickety airboats traverse the Sandy Jack river, bringing staples and goods (particularly the illicit kind) from far and wide.

Adventure abounds around Gunspoint!  The closest point of interest is The Scareport, a once-bustling travel hub now awash in decrepit wreckage and freakish "living lights".

To the east lies The Queen's Wood.  Who—or, more accurately, what—The Queen is remains utterly unknown, as none who have seen her have survived the experience.  Her ever-expanding army of Mutant Humans and Mutant Animals shake down the locals, demanding larger and larger tributes...with the implied threat She will overrun the landscape.  The ruined Drearbrook Mall taunts scavengers with its promises of riches beyond imagining.  (But if that's the case, why hasn't The Queen claimed it as Her own...?)

Going northward are two key villages that supply food to the region.  Walled Den, home to The Craw, provides fish and aquacultural staples, and the citizens of Gone-Woe farm and ranch on their relatively pristine and healthy lands.  

Illis and Grieveland are communities that just can't catch a break, as there's always some disease, predator, and/or random disaster that afflicts them.  The current rumors about their worries are the most ridiculous yet, involving cyclopean chickens and renegade robots....

And speaking of renegade robots, no one dares venture too far north into the dead forests of Huntsvile.  A giant, headless, humanoid statue warns all to stay away, lest rampaging security-droids drag you screaming into the bowels of the region's numerous Ancient-but-not-so-ruined prisons....

The savage Wooded Lands take up much of the west.  Crypress, a secluded monastery for the "Brotherhood Of Thought", is the only settlement on the fringes.    Like Drearbrook, the ruined Woebrook commercial mecca lures the greedy and the foolhardy.

The Blank Zone is a mysterious area avoided by all, as no one who enters ever returns...and those who insist they actually arrived from there have no memories of the place.

To the south of Gunspoint lie the most dangerous regions.  The Downtown is an expansive sunken city where the skeletons of Ancient skyscrapers jut from polluted waters.  With its labyrinth of submerged governmental buildings, museums, banks, Fortune 500 companies, and nightspots of old, who knows what wonders lie beneath the surface...? And then there's the Blastrodome complex, a "mega-maze" with as many legends (involving gladiatorial games, subterranean slavers, monstrous trucks, cloned rock-gods, great beasts, and bloodthirsty cults) as corpses littering its grounds.

The Slime Barony is home to sentient fungi who prowl the swamps astride monstrous mounts and worship the powers of all things atomic.  Any who enter their lands must pay tribute or convert to their arcane beliefs, or suffer the consequences.  Only the Crules in the verdant Scareland are mighty enough to stand up to the Slime Barons' wrath.

Fearlake houses the crumbling husk of the NASTAR space program.  Rumors persist that the ruined center holds the keys to traversing the spaceways...assuming the wolves don't get you first....

The waters poisoned beyond all belief, The Burning Sea is a fiery graveyard of slagged ships and spewing petrochemical plants.  But many insist there are riches within the fiery tides, and they're plundered by the mutation-riddled pirates that call Graveston home.

—

Here's a list of random words / phrases / people that tie into to the morass-y majesty of Gunspoint and its territories:

) gator raiders

) "N-R0N, The Thing That Should Not Exist"

) "The Psych Ward Psions"

) slicksand

) "Slakewood, The Oasis Of Blood"

) "The Star-Old's Brewery"

) "Satan's Cerebrums, The Science-Bikers"

) Exxon Honda, a.k.a. "The Kingpin Of Corruption"

) "The Monstrose"

) "The Aquarium"

) diesel demons

—

The first real session is tomorrow.  (Last week, they rolled up characters and got a feel for the system by blasting a school of adorably toothy shunks.)  Stay tuned for updates!!!

Mutants In The News — "Tripping The Light Rat-astic" Edition

Through the wonders of cerebro-implants, scientists have given rats the ability to "touch" and "see" invisible infrared light.

"This was the first time a brain-machine interface has augmented a sense in adult animals," says clearly mad scientist.  "We could create devices sensitive to any physical energy...magnetic fields, radio waves, or ultrasound."

AWESOME.

Mutants In The News — "Massively Mutated Onslaught RPG" Edition

When I was 15, the greatest video game I had ever played on my Apple IIe was Wasteland. There were mutants and clone-vats and 'borgs and Las Vegas and AWESOME.

It was also the worst, because I got all the way to the verrrrry end...and found out that, weeks prior, I'd discarded The McGuffin Key to make room for a medkit or a shotgun shell or something trivial.  I was utterly, completely boned, because I couldn't enter the final map.

I had never, ever been burned by a game like that before...so to show it who was boss, I started over, and played straight through over the course of a day-night-day or two.

So.  Freaking.  Annoying.

So much caffeine.  So much parental griping.

Anyhow, there's a new browser-based game that seems right our collective alleys, called Mutant Badlands.  It's in Open Beta now, and looks kinda dandy.  I've played all of five minutes, and in that brief time, I butchered some cannibal-mutants, rescued a trussed-up damsel, and found a wrench in some rubble.

If that isn't The Platonic Ideal of a post-apocalyptic game, I dunno what is.

Here's a video!

And here's some promo art.  Snazzy!

So go kill some irradiated freaks, and tell them Ol' Justin sent ya!

"D" is for "Desolation Whale"

Desolation Whale

No. Enc.:  0 (1d3)
Alignment:  Chaotic
Movement:  0' (0')
  —Swim:  150' (50')
Armor Class:  5
Hit Dice:  25
Attacks:  1 (ram)
Damage:  8d6
Save:  L9
Morale:  10
Hoard Class:  None
XP:  16,000

Covered in lesions, tumors, and fungal growths, the incandescent desolation whales plow through the toxic seas in near-constant agony.  They often attack ships and waterborne structures (underwater bases, oil platforms, abandoned oceanliners, etc.) in blind rage.

Brainwhales have tried time and again to tame and/or enslave desolation whales, but to little success.  The beasts are just too savage to control.

Mutations:  Dermal Poison Slime, Echolocation, Energy Ray x2 (Any)

Radioactive Review — 'Wisdom From The Wastelands #16: Robots, Part 2'

Like Part 1, Wisdom From The Wastelands:  Robots, Part 2 is chock full o' goodness.

Levitating cinemas.  Gravitic generators.  Portable suns.  Mechanical menaces a'plenty, like Tree Eaters and Mad Laboratories and Marine Hunters and Nightmarebots.

I think my favorite bits pertain to behavior:  the robots act in X fashion if they're non-aware lunkheads just doing their tasks, but do Y (where "Y" usually equals "goes bugnuts, with ensuing hijinks") if awakened and sentient.  I don't think I've ever seen prior post-apocalyptic robot guides make such distinctions, and I love the flavorful details.

Rounding out the issue are 8 new accessories, including a new locomotion class and weapon.

The core Mutant Future rulebook has 7 pages on robots.  With these two 5-page WFTW issues (and a third already out...review pending!), Derek Holland and his Skirmisher posse have single-handedly tripled the game's robotic content.  And it's all gold.

Great, fun stuff.  Buy it here.

"M" is for "Molewrath"

Molewrath

No. Enc.:  1d4 (4d10)
Alignment:  Neutral
Movement:  105' (35')
  —Burrow:  45' (15')
Armor Class:  7
Hit Dice:  15
Attacks:  3 (2 claws, 1 bite)
Damage:  1d12 / 1d12 / 4d6
Save:  L8
Morale:  10
Hoard Class: 
XP:  6,900

The surly, desert-dwelling, 20' long molewraths spend their days excavating massive den complexes centered around clusters of nutrient- and moisture-rich mutant tubers.  They sometimes burrow up into outposts, dragging sentient plants to their dooms.

Being immune to temperature extremes, toxins, diseases, and radiation, molewraths make hardy steeds.  Many humanoid races (Crules, Waste Witches, Gheelids) ride them imperiously into battle.

Rumors persist about sentient "molewrath queens" that direct their nests telepathically.

Mutations:  Gigantism, Reflective Epidermis (Cold, Fire/Heat, Radiation)

Radioactive Review — 'Wisdom From The Wastelands #15: Robots, Part 1'

Mini-Review:

Buy it.  Buy it now.  CONSUME.

Longer Review:

Wisdom From The Wastelands #15:  Robots, Part 1 features 8 all-new robots and 11 all-different gadgets with which to outfit them.

I figgered I'd read it all as far as post-apocalyptic 'bots go (I mean, how many permutations on the word "deathbot" are out there, anyway...?), but the descriptions are so evocative—and effortlessly, casually so—that I was struck with at least a dozen campaign ideas.  And they just kept on flowing afterwards.

Man, I was EXCITED after finishing WFTF #15.  Just totally got the itch to start up my game again.  It's that good.

Because I want you to give The Esteemed Derek Holland and The Skirmisher Publishing Crew your money, I'm going to be vague about the specific contents.  But here's some random quotes that really got me jazzed:

"Hunters do not know if they have food for the table or spare parts for their artifacts until they butcher their game."

"Now they wander the wastes, collecting and protecting everything that relates to their exhibits."

"Some nations became so desperate they created [them] for government and military officials, and designed deathbots for everyone else."

"Most...have become dictators of flesh and metal communities...."

"Some rule, some serve, and some serve ungrateful or poor customers to their next customers."

"The rest have gone insane...and cause their students to also go insane."

And here's two words from the weaponry section that should make any Mutant Lord giddy: Phase.  Rocket.

—

Hands down, WFTW #15 is my favorite issue of the series so far.  It eschews the usual dry crunch of the line and heaps on the flavor.

Why haven't you bought it already?

"T" is for "Taktoc"

Taktoc

No. Enc.:  1d4 (1d6)
Alignment:  Neutral or Chaotic
Movement:  150' (50')
Armor Class:  4
Hit Dice:  4+2
Attacks:  4 (4 tentacles) or 1 (weapon)
Damage:  1d4 / 1d4 / 1d4 / 1d4, or by weapon
Save:  L4
Morale:  8
Hoard Class:  XIV
XP:  515

Taktocs are 8' tall, terrestrial cephalopoids that favor humid, verdant environs.  Ornery (WIL 13+1d8) creatures, they wage war with their own kind as often as they do Pure and Mutated Human settlements.

Each taktoc possesses 7 facial tentacles.  The 4 shortest shred food with razored nodules, while the 3 longer, trunk-like appendages manipulate Ancient weapons and artifacts with ease.

Taktocs communicate through a complex series of whistles, tentacular gestures, and shifts in body coloration.  It's should come as no surprise that most encounters with them go horribly, horribly awry.

Mutations:  Body Adjustment, Disintegration, Increased Balance, Increased Willpower, Optic Emissions (Gamma Eyes)

"C" is for "Crocworm"

Crocworm

No. Enc.:  1d4 (2d6)
Alignment:  Neutral
Movement:  30' (10')
  —Burrow:  30' (10')
Armor Class:  7
Hit Dice:  3
Attacks:  1 (bite)
Damage:  1d10
Save:  L2
Morale:  10
Hoard Class:  None
XP:  110

Crocworms are pale, 15' long abominations with scaly heads that fade into translucent, corpulent, slimy bodies.  They dwell in ruined sewers, deep swamps, and deeper caves, and often congregate near sites contaminated by toxins and/or necrotic energies. Crocworms reek of corruption and decay, and their phlegmy bellows (particularly when rutting) induce nausea in even the most stalwart of souls.

Crocworms track prey via scent, sound, and vibration, and though bloated and sluggish, gain a +3 Initiative bonus thanks to lightning-fast lunges.  Old wives' tales warn of using bladed weapons against crocworms, as chopping them in half allegedly results in two ravenous beasts....

Swamp hags treasure them as beloved pets.

Mutations:  Increased Sense (Hearing, Smell), Sensory Deficiency (Blind) [D]

Designer's Notes:  I got shanghaied into DMing Dungeon Crawl Classics, and I'm naturally going with "post-apocalyptic sword & sorcery" (Gods died; moon exploded; blood rained; world flooded; beasties turned beastlier)...so any monsters I use there are totally simpatico with my usual blog nonsense here.  I'll just dual-stat them—and cross-post here—with the DCC block at the bottom.  Like so!

Crocworm:  Init +3; Atk bite +1 melee (1d10); AC 12; HD 3d6; MV 15'; Act 1d20; SP Fort +3, Ref -4, Will -3; AL N.

"S" is for "Slugbear"

Slugbear

No. Enc.:  1 (1d3)
Alignment:  Neutral
Movement:  60' (20')
Armor Class:  4
Hit Dice:  6
Attacks:  3 or 1 (2 claws, 1 bite, or 1 radula)
Damage:  1d6 / 1d6 / 1d10, or 2d4 + poison
Save:  L3
Morale:  10
Hoard Class:  VII
XP:  1,570

Slugbears are plodding, 11' tall bipeds with shaggy, slime-drenched fur.  They can slowly (over 3 rounds) elongate their torsos and limbs so as to reach heights over 20', and contort through openings seemingly too small for their bulk.

A slugbear harpoons targets up to 15' away with its barbed, radular tongue, injecting a Class 11 paralytic neurotoxin in the process.

Given their malleability and perpetual sogginess, slugbears are immune to blunt / bashing weapons and crushing, and suffer halved damage from fire-based attacks.  Desiccating agents (salts, silica gels, etc.), though, inflict 2d6 damage per round of exposure.

Mutations:  Frailty ("Dehydration Sensitivity") [D], Toxic Weapon (Venom)

Designer's Notes:  The Slugbear began as but a sketch, sprung from the fertile, fevered mind of Jason Sholtis (he of the awesome The Dungeon Dozen blog, which every self-respecting DM / GM / Judge / Screenmonkey should have bookmarked) over on G+.  He kindly gave me permission to run with the concept, so I statted it up.  Here's the original art!

Mutants In The News — "Mutant Masterpiece" Edition

As mentioned previously, we here at A Field Guide To Doomsday go giddy for Ethan Nicolle's Bearmageddon strip.  It's chock full of murderous monsters and mayhem, and everything I want from a comic about mutant bears taking over the world in the most straightforward way possible:

Eating every human they encounter.  Elegant, no?

And back when I was just a rookie blogger, one of the very first beasties of my own making was the mighty molebear.  That subterranean sucker is very near and dear to my heart.

So when Mr. Nicole offered up custom commissions, I had to send him some megabucks.

AND BEHOLD WHAT MAJESTIES THEY HATH WROUGHT!!!

The Greatest Thing I Have Ever Seen

Lovely.  Absolutely lovely.

To quote a certain Dr. Henry Walton Jones, Jr.:  "IT BELONGS IN A MUSEUM!!!"

Disclaimer:  Mr. Nicolle still retains the rights, y'all, so give 'im credit if re-posting it or whatever.

"B" is for "Bergbeak"

Bergbeak

No. Enc.:  0 (1d4)
Alignment:  Neutral
Movement:  180' (60')
Armor Class:  5
Hit Dice:  5
Attacks:  1 (bite)
Damage:  1d10
Save:  L3
Morale:  9
Hoard Class:  None
XP:  650

The blubbery, 9' tall bergbeaks race across the tundras on broad feet perfectly adapted to the terrain. Their keening squawks carry with the winds.

Bergbeaks hunt by homing in on their prey's neurological signatures.  They sense any and all "cranial impulses" within a 1 mile radius, including those of Androids (but not standard robots).  In fact, Androids drive bergbeaks into a confused rage, granting the birds +3 To Hit against them.

Clothing and sleeping gear stuffed with bergbeak feathers provide an extra +2 bonus to any and all cold-related Saving Throws.

Mutations:  Reflective Epidermis (Cold), Unique Sense ("Brainwave Detection")