"Not exactly sure why he drug politics into it...oh, wait, yes I do. My recollection of that guy, before I blocked him on G+ years ago, is that he drags politics/social issues into just about every damn thing. I just want to blather about D&D without hearing the loons from the right or left pushing their agendas, you know what I mean?
Having said that, it looks pretty accurate, from a particular OSR point of view, I suppose. "
Sunday, 13 January 2013
Egg Dead (and Sonic Pigs!)
dragon foetus, hiding in their eggs, faking as cave pearls.
a pregnant dragon dies, the young starve in their eggs. Very very
occasionally something awful seeks the corpse. It wants a necrotic
death-toy and, finding one, cranks up the wasted flesh with bleak
eggs, lying moon-white in the corpse-fat earth, are forgotten. But,
the foetal wyrmlings curling in their necrotic yolk, stir and start
to live again.
last thing they recall is starving to death inside their mothers
womb. A Dragon, even pre-birth, has the intelligence of a man. These
un-dead ever-starving children, genetically prepped for Raptorous
majesty, are unshaped by any material experience. They are hungry,
cannot eat, and cannot die. Eventually they break the egg, wandering
in birth-flocks, looking for something they cannot find and do not
understand. Then they return to the egg. They do not understand the
world. The egg is all they know. Their bodies are unripe. They crawl
inside and carefully re-build the shell. This takes time to learn,
but they have time, infinite time. They wait inside. Sleepless and
disturbs them. They emerge. Afterwards, maybe, they move the eggs.
Climb within and rebuild.
the endless shiftings of the river-pools remind them of their mothers
heart. They don't feel cold. The thoughtless bubbling flow that
gently and ceaselessly rocks them in the infinite night may fake a
mothers touch. Lulling them to the edge of unachievable sleep.
Perhaps underground nothing will bother or disturb them. Perhaps the
cold, smooth Oolites in the cave-wells remind them of a nest they've
never seen. But perhaps, it is just possible, that something places
them there, a half-deliberate trap or lure, of what purpose no-one
crawl into the pools in river-caves where Oolites form. Scatter
amongst them in re-assembled eggs, and wait.
you disturb them.
swarm of necrotic ice-cold dragonlings, desperate for a parent and a
meal. You will play one of these roles. They will instantly imprint
on what they see, like Geese. They will follow you in the darkness,
climb upon you rubbing their cold rank scales against you, seeking a
warmth they can never feel. They will watch you with keen bright
intelligence, learning and forgetting as their foetal rotting minds
decay. They are looking for a signal they cannot understand, a
behaviour they cannot adopt.
Egg Dead will track you like a parent, until you act like prey.
albino pig makes you shit yourself and weep.
those predators have to eat something after all. The Sonic Pig
resembles the terrestrial version. It's white, and long instead of
fat. The legs somewhat extended, it climbs like a goat and can swim.
It eats anything that can't fight back.
Sonic Pig senses its way with a mad pink frilled out nose. It's face
turns back on itself into a wet red starburst fleshflower as wide as
the animal itself.
like this but... a pig
defence is an ultra-low frequency organic boombox. The pig-throat
swells out like a toads. The flesh awash with interference patterns
and held breath. The alarm noise it makes sounds like a drum and base
rave burning down. A heard of pigs in retreat is deafening and can be
felt for miles around. It's often mistaken for distant geological
and also like this but again, a pig
pig herds know specific sounds to drive off threats. The long-wave
vibrations are designed to wobble your organs and make your bones hum
like a washing line in wind. They don't do much damage, but, one of
the noises produced is the semi-mythical 'brown note'. A cave pig
makes you poop yourself. The physiological effects also mimic a
concussion, producing dizziness, disorientation and despair. (Minuses
to DEX, Save Vs Breath, and WIS after being caught in an danger-crump.)
hell-states use slaves to farm the sonic pigs. It makes no difference
the them if the oppressed are shit-stained, deafened and mentally
upset. In fact its pretty handy in controlling the population. A
swift shift on the pig ranch quickly numbs the freedom-lust.