Cousins of brain oozes, cerebric cysts feed on the mental
energy of psychically gifted people.
Now, lots of psychic creatures
do that, and lots of them look like
brains*, so you’d think I would hate
the cerebric cyst. And I would, except
for this line from the Occult Bestiary:
[C]erebric cysts
occasionally establish facades such as fake schools for gifted children in
order to lure such pliable chattel to them and thus avoid the need for arduous
hunts for psychic sensitives.
The notion of Tiny floating purple brains (shades of Futurama?) covered in eldritch symbols
being able to set up entire fake schools(!) despite being Tiny floating purple
brains (and being only one rung up the evolutionary ladder from brain oozes, to
boot) is really appealing to me for
some odd reason. Go on with your bad,
barely-there selves, cysts!
Where cerebric cysts really shine is reaction time. Not only are they never surprised or
flat-footed, but if they get in a tentacle strike they can lash out at that
target with a spell-like ability as a swift action. And given that list of spell-like
abilities—including mind thrust II
and dominate monster—it’s no wonder
these floating oozes are so effective in their plots and subterfuges.
Adventurers
investigating arson at a school for gifted children come across far
stranger crimes. The school was actually
a front for a flight of cerebric cysts.
But when the king’s chamberlain inquired about the crown prince
attending the academy, the cerebric cysts decided the risk of exposure wasn’t
worth the proximity to the throne. The
cysts attempted to have their dominated
thralls torch the school so they could relocate without offending the royal
family. Unfortunately, these troublesome
adventurers now represent a loose end…
Astral caravels run
on brainpower—often, the harnessed power of batteries of brain oozes. But too much time in the psychic winds of the
Astral can prompt these oozes to mature into cerebric cysts. Then it is only a matter of time before the
cysts stage a mutiny and take the helm of the caravel for themselves, with
their former masters now serving as both crew and provisions.
Malfus isn’t a
familiar per se. But the
foul-mouthed—or rather, foul-cerebrumed—perches like a loathsome parrot on the
shoulder of his blood kineticist “master,” Ephril. Really the relationship is more like that of
an abusive, cigar-chomping older uncle…but it works, as Malfus’s guidance has
helped Ephril unlock darker and darker talents, while Ephril’s growing status
and wealth help Malfus find new minds upon which he can snack. (In fact, in social situations Malfus has a
disturbing habit of telepathically broadcasting just how delicious he thinks
future victims’ minds will be—but only to Ephril and the victim in question.
—Occult Bestiary
13
*Every Psionic Book Ever: “Behold, we have unlocked the
infinite and inscrutable mysteries of the mind!”
Me: “Do all the monsters on your pages have big heads or
look like brains? And do they eat
thoughts, usually with tentacles?”
Every Psionic Book Ever: “Um…yes. And yes.
Also yes.”
Me: “So kind of finite then.
Also scrutable.”
That said, Occult
Bestiary suffers this a lot less
than most psionic monster books. Again,
the Pathfinder team’s skill at synthesis comes to the fore. By making the Occult Adventures/Bestiary/Realms rules about other mental and
mystic phenomena besides psionics—from phantoms to chakras to ley lines to the
migration of souls—the authors broadened the scope of the books and avoided a
lot of the traps other games/editions fall into when tackling psionics. I heartily approve.
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