PCs, take note: It’s always a bad thing when the ooze is more charismatic than you. Not to mention stronger, tougher,
smarter, and wiser. In fact,
unless you challenge an immortal ichor to a tightrope-walking challenge, stat
for stat it will demolish the average PC.
Hell, it can even fly!
What sets the immortal ichor apart from the many other
mind-controlling atrocities that dwell in the Realms Below is that it is an
object of power in itself. Like
the One Ring or the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s Tesseract, it has wants of its
own and can manipulate people/events to achieve them…but at the same time other
Powers are going to want it. After all, if dragon scales make good
magical armor and pixie dust can improve spellcasting, imagine what the blood
of a god can do!
So the very sealed chambers and bespelled vessels that keep
an immortal ichor from wreaking havoc on the world are also paradoxically what
protect it. Once an immortal ichor
gets loose, events are inexorably set into motion—either the ichor will attempt
to claim its divine bloodright or it will be claimed in turn.
The Amaranthine Heart
believes the world was destroyed.
The little the immortal ichor “remembers” of its life as a god is the
moment a mountainous chunk of moon slammed into it, while behind it the sky
burned. In reality, the
Amaranthine Heart is little more than a divine clot. (And the cataclysm it remembers is one the god it came from
caused.) Blood from the crushed
god’s body dripped into the deepest chasms of the earth, and there it has spent
its time “saving the last remnants of existence” by creating a slave nation of
troglodytes, mongrelmen, and strange aberrations. Upon encountering surface dwellers, the Heart will be
stunned, exultant…and then furious at having been “forgotten,” “made a fool
of,” and “left to reign over a kingdom of wretches.” Unless the surface-dwelling adventurers stop it, the
immortal ichor will head straight to the surface to claim its rightful place as
a god.
Known as the Sky
Butchers and the Shrikes, the Lanian fleet rules the skies. The secret to their capital airships’
design is that each is powered by a trapped immortal ichor. When for the first time in history one
of their carriers crashes, the immortal ichor gets loose and begins to set up a
kingdom within the crashed hulk.
The immortal ichor is also a clue to a mystery: The act of procuring
divine blood for her mortal patrons—either her own or her rivals—is what has
turned the formerly benevolent and wise Lanian patron goddess into a weak, vile,
and impulsive shell of her former divine self.
A desperate immortal
ichor recruits adventurers to protect it. Through its agents, it has discovered a humbaba is searching
for it, planning to alchemically reduce it down to an ambrosia that will make
the monstrous humanoid divine. The
ooze is terrified it cannot fight off the stronger demonspawn and begs for
protection. The party must weigh
the risk of a Colossal monstrous humanoid scion of Pazuzu becoming a god versus
allying themselves with an evil sludge that (for all its Wisdom) may not be
able to resist its instinctual drive to dominate
or devour its own allies.
—Pathfinder Bestiary 4 156
It’s unclear whether the immortal ichor needs to eat—after
all, it’s immortal (duh) and it doesn't have the usual growing/dividing rules
of more ravenous monsters. And
anyway it’s more in the habit of dominating
its victims rather than engulfing them.
(Hell, that would just eat away their flesh, and nobody likes a juju
skeleton when they can have a juju zombie.) That said…I like it when oozes eat people. And if you were a divine essence
stripped of your immortal body and soul…wouldn’t you be down for a nosh on
occasion?
If you’re looking for the immense tortoise, we covered that
a few weeks ago.
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