Normally when a “basic” D&D/Known World/Mystara monster
comes up in the rotation, I’m all excitement: “Hey it’s the brain collector! From way back
when! Let me tell you stories
about elementary school!”
Not so with the nightshades. I’ve been dreading this.
Nightshades: They are big. They are shadowy.
They are evil. They want to
crush all life. End of story. That is the proverbial it. And there are three
of them. (Wait, scratch
that—four. Counting Undead Revisited, five. As my Yiddish peeps would say: Oy.
I’d rather write about ascomoids.
Even worse, while I don’t have personal experience with
nightshades (most campaigns I’ve played in end in the tweens), it seems to me
they always show up in published adventures as the penultimate monster—the last
big baddie to soak up your spells and buffs before you hit the main man. So all in all, they’re a giant pain
(and a one-note one at that).
The good news is, Pathfinder has at least made their origin
story interesting: the transfigured remnants of fiends who wandered too far
into the umbral wastes of the Plane of Shadow and the Negative Energy Plane. (Let that serve as a cautionary tale for
those trying to use these planes to cross dimensions or reach other planets.) And Todd Stewart has done his best in Undead Revisited to breathe some
(un)life into these creatures. I’m
most interested in his reminder that nightshades often live in the shadow
versions of Material Plane cities—so shadowdancers and plane-hopping parties
that blithely try to visit these dark mirror cities may be surprised by these
terrible foes. And there is always
an evil spellcaster, lich, or devourer powerful enough—or foolish enough—to
attempt to call one of these dark creatures.
So for more details on nightshades (and stats for the
nightskitter), see Undead Revisited. Meanwhile, enter the nightcrawler:
A cabal of horrified vampires
enlists adventurers for help. The
vampires were aiding a cult of Kieron the Death Eater foment an undead takeover
of the city. But when they
realized the dark priests intended to summon a nightcrawler, the bloodsuckers
rebelled—they want cattle, not corpses.
The duergar city of
Delverest is a ghost town—literally.
A nightcrawler slithered up through its inky sewers from the Plane of
Shadow and annihilated the inhabitants, leaving only shadows, wraiths, dread
wraiths, and moaning allips in its wake.
For now the nightcrawler is content—the city is empty of life. But it struck during the spring, when
flourishing fungi and deadly spores cut off Delverest from all trade. Once the summer caravans unwittingly
disturb the nightcrawler’s peace, it will attempt to track the interruptions
back to their sources…
Shadow Vienz
features all the playhouses of its bright cousin, with masked shae playing the
leads instead of human actors.
Fetchlings and half-sane derro run the caravan routes of shadow
Sember. And fascist kytons rule
the imperial streets of shadow Remus, preaching strength and unity through
pain. But there is no life in
shadow Amberhome, nor any shadow gnomes to mine the seams of jet. Instead a pair of nightcrawlers
endlessly circle the tunnels, which are rimed with frost from the undeads’
quickened cones of cold.
—Pathfinder Bestiary 2
200
Eagle-eyed readers will note we covered the Nessian hell
hound/warhound way back here.
And speaking of eagle eyes, Todd Stewart must have felt his
ears burning—he literally just this minute dropped us off a note about the
lurker in light. Check it here.
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