Showing posts with label Drake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Drake. Show all posts

Monday, January 16, 2017

Jungle Drake


(Illustration by Ben Wootten comes from the Paizo Blog and is © Paizo Publishing.)

Drakes have been with us in the Pathfinder game since Bestiary 2, with a handful appearing in each subsequent volume.  This familiarity doesn’t exactly breed contempt—c’mon, we love dragons—but it does breed complacent expectation.  You turn to a drake page expecting a speed surge, an environmental ability or two, maybe a special attack, and blah blah blah.

That’s where art comes in.

Show me the GM who can turn to Ben Wootten’s jungle drake and not want to put it in a campaign.  That camouflaged, squirrel-splayed, iguana-toed, archaeopteryx-tailed beauty is begging to be in your game—only it doesn't have to beg, because you already put it in there, probably while I was still writing this.  Last entry I was encouraging you to look past the art as a useful way of rethinking the monster; today the art is 90% of the reason to love this monster.  Just goes to show you: Every monster entry is worth approaching with fresh eyes.

(The art does have one problem—this is a jaguar- or even horse-sized creature (that is, size Large), but it’s painted to look the size of a faerie dragon, based on the surrounding limbs and leaves.  (Maybe it’s a juvenile?)  So remember that the adult jungle drake, while small for a dragon, is still a semi-proper dragon—at least the size of the raptors in Jurassic Park.)

Beyond that?  It’s a drake optimized to work in jungles.  If you’re a tactically minded GM, you can probably wreak a lot of havoc by properly comboing the drake’s woodland stride/predatory grab/speed surge abilities into a really nasty dine-and-dash strategy (particularly against Small PCs, familiars, or pack animals).  An attack by a full rampage could leave PCs wounded, scattered, gearless, and abducted/devoured in short order.

After their dirigible is blown off-course, adventurers have only one chance to make it back to civilization: a forced march through a jungle to a bubbling spring where sailors take on water.  With the monsoon season approaching, the party has two weeks to reach the spring before the last ships depart north, despite the canyons, bugbears gnashers (see the Monster Codex), flame pillars, and worse that stand in their way.  The last challenge is a sprint across an isthmus patrolled by ravenous, grasping jungle drakes.

Divinations indicate a druid was reincarnated as a jungle drake.  Adventurers are hired to escort the druid’s master to him.  They do not realize that the master intends to skin his former pupil and use the hide to craft a particularly powerful variant cloak of the bat (see Ultimate Equipment).

The blue-skinned gnomes of the Tamuti Jungle are known for their worship of totem animals, spirits that both represent and watch over their tribe.  Among the more well-known Tamuti tribes include the Sun Bears, the Jungle Drakes, the Anoa, the Blood Orangutans, and the Oru Man, a two-headed, thin man-like cryptid.  The Jungle Drakes are notorious raiders and nomads, who not only torment their neighbors but also practice the normally taboo act of riding their totem animal into battle.

Pathfinder Bestiary 5 100

Friday, August 5, 2016

Ether Drake


One of the largest and most powerful drake species, ether drakes made their way from the Ethereal Plane to the Material generations and generations ago.  But they still retain psychic powers from their time on the esoteric plane.  They may not be as malevolent as many other drakes…but at CR 10, with the usual drake speed and the added ability to condense ether around their victims, they don’t have to be.

Haunted by mistakes from his mortal life, a spiritualist’s phantom urges his mortal companion to challenge beasts that toe the line between the Material and Ethereal Planes.  The spiritualist recruits a party of adventurers to head into the Barrowlands, so that he may test himself against the ether drakes that have a nesting ground there.

On the world of Overhaze, the Ethereal and Material planes aren't separate.  Rather, the Material Plane juts out of the Ethereal in the form of mountain ranges of reality poking above the cloud-covered spirit world.  Adventurers who descend into the Haze face enough number of threats, from roving spectres to mindlinked rampages of ether drakes that coordinate in silent and stunningly effective strikes.

Save a saint?  That’s no small order.  But when the request comes from the lips of a reincarnated St. Brendan the Navigator, who has left the afterlife in order to see this mission fulfilled, what else can a group of Catholic clerics do?  Saint Columba’s soul has been stolen from Heaven, and divination reveals it has been spirited to an island in the North Atlantic.  St. Brendan believes he knows which one—a mist-shrouded isle from his travels that he never told any chronicler about, for fear that others might mimic his journey.  The beach is indifferently guarded by ether drakes; more dangerous creatures—and otherworldly temptations—lie further inland.

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Yes, I just listened to the audiobook of Jim Butcher’s The Aeronaut's Windlass.  That second seed owes a little to the mysterious setting of that book.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Spire Drake


All drakes are degenerate.  (The Bestiary series is a bit judge-y on the subject of dragon evolution.)  But spire drakes…they’re just wrong.  Because anything whose breath and bite are so corrupted they can breed wights simply shouldn’t exist as a natural creature.  Yet the spire drake does.

My best guess is that some stunted offshoot of the umbral dragon line produced both shadow drakes and spire drakes, with shadow drakes getting a version of their progenitors’ shadow powers and spire drakes getting the umbral dragons’ taint of undeath.  Or you can skip the evolutionary root cause and blame the spire drakes’ environment.  Lands tainted by long exposure to undeath, storms of wild magic, or blood magic and other dark rites could certainly give rise to spire drakes.  (Russ Taylor’s “Ecology of the Drake,” from Pathfinder Adventure Path #92: The Hill Giant’s Pledge, blames mutations in other drake bloodlines caused by the Golarion settings deadly Mana Wastes.)

The point is, spire drakes straddle the line between the natural world and worlds far, far worse.  If PCs don’t want to find out what those worlds are like, they would do well to stay sharp and avoid the spire drake’s coup de grace.

Sometimes the hardest part of the dungeon is the journey home.  When adventurers reach sunlight for the first time after plundering the Spiral Crypt of Dorn, they are met by a rampage of spire drakes demanding tribute—namely, all the adventurers’ magic items.  If the adventurers refuse, the spire drakes attack immediately.  If driven off, they will nonetheless attempt to harry the adventurers all the way back to civilization in a series of guerrilla attacks, hoping to make off with what magic and hunks of meat they can.  Should the adventurers make it to the safety of the city walls, the drakes slink away in frustration…but not before warning an osyluth ally, in hopes that his infernal wiles may succeed where theirs did not.

In the Scar, divine magic withers and arcane magic blooms into wild energies.  Spire drakes, horribly warped goblinoids (including the mudlike murds), and greedy oozes hunt in the shadows of the canyon that gives the Scar its name.  Two of the most terrifying hunters in these lands are the spellscarred fext (a generic version of Inner Sea Bestiary’s Spellscar fext) Simon Kraal and his spire drake steed Lash.  Though Lash cannot bear Simon aloft, she can rampage along the blasted landscape with the undead knight astride her back, and together they hunt down any magic-employing prey they can find.

There are no undead on Vashon.  No undead that is, until they begin being born in the wake of spire drake attacks.  Where the drakes come from is still a mystery, but the spawning wights they leave in their wake inspire horror in every Vashon man, woman, and child.  Worse still, while these wights rarely last for long, other undead species seemingly unrelated to spire drakes have begun manifesting too, as if the door to the Realm of the Dead has suddenly been propped open.  If there is one blessing in all these dark tidings, it’s that clerics and other divine casters are discovering new powers they can use against these monsters—spells and channel abilities that have lain dormant for centuries.  But clearly these drakes must be exterminated and the way to Death shut again if Vashon is to endure.

Pathfinder Bestiary 4 81

Monday, July 27, 2015

Shadow Drake


Shadow drakes are tiny, and by that I mean, stat-block Tiny.  Which may bum out those of you who, like me, really dig shadow monsters.  (There’s a reason we have stats for a shadow mastiff, after all, not a shadow French bulldog.  And the umbral dragon?  The most powerful primal dragon of all, reaching CR 22 at Great Wyrm age.)  The shadow drake might as well be called the shadow procompsognathus.

Until you remember a pack of procompsognathuses ended a certain theme park designer’s life in the novel..

Plus, that means instead of hiding shadow drakes in the wilderness, you can have them right in the middle of your favorite urban environment.  They can be random encounters!  They can be familiars for evil spellcasters!  They can be the Thieves’ Guild’s eyes and ears…mot to mention its wings and prehensile magical-ring-stealing tails!  And given their speed, their skill at flying (+23!), their ability to blend into the shadows, and their stygian breath, they can make your party want to never explore what that noise is up in the chimney again.

An assassination…didn’t happen.  Now the head of the Assassins’ Guild wants to know why.  Someone owes someone who owes someone who owes him a favor, and soon some luckless novice adventures are sent up to the bell tower to look for evidence of what happened to the triggerman.  Assuming they can skirt around the local watch and make it up the tower, they find the crossbowman lying dead, with chunks ripped out of him and (oddly) signs of frostbite on his face and extremities.  And right after the adventurers make this discovery, the shadow drakes who were nesting up in the bell tower attack.

Adventurers are hired to meet a courier at the docks—he’s expected on the next kestrel from the Elfholds in the morning.  But with favorable winds the ship arrives early, and as evening falls some curious hanivers steal the courier’s pouch.  His desperation for the item causes the fey to taunt him and flit from boat to boat—which is when the adventurers arrive, word having been sent to their inn that the ship has come in.  But by the time they deal with the majority of the gremlins, the one bearing the pouch makes his way inland and stumbles into shadow drake territory.  Now the precious item is in the hands of more dangerous predators, and night is falling fast…

Pevin Gimleteye isn't just feared because he’s the enforcer all the underage pickpockets answer to.   He’s feared because he commands a rampage of shadow drakes.  Not quite familiars and not quiet pets, they nevertheless eagerly do his bidding—not least because he lets them have the eyes and meaty bits of any of the touts and nimblefingers he deems too sluggish or unprofitable in their trade.  A party of sellswords might run into him and his beasts in the course of their various adventures; alternately, as they gain in renown he may call on them when a local cabal of wizards calls away and bind his pets.

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Russ Taylor’s “Ecology of the Drake” from Pathfinder Adventure Path #92: The Hill Giant’s Pledge has more on drakes, including where to find them on Golarion.

Also, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but the shadow drake made me think of it: One of the best anniversary issues of Dragon (which, naturally, were dragon-themed)—issue #146 to be precise—introduced drakes as a family of pseudodragon-like creatures ideally suited for being wizard’s familiars.  (Hence the title, “Dragons are Wizards’ Best Friends,” authored by David E. Cates.)  While most of them wouldn't gel with Pathfinder’s rampaging horrors, the article’s illusionist shadow drakes could be emulated by giving Pathfinder drakes class levels and easing off the evil.

So a quick note on con etiquette: Otakon was this weekend, and not only was it awesome as usual, but it was also really chill.  That is, fan behavior was excellent—orderly lines, people weren’t taking pictures in the middle of hallway traffic, no 15-minute games of Marco Polo or “Buttscratcher!”, etc.  Part of that seemed to be that the crowd felt smaller than last year—the past few years have been nuts, attendance-wise—and my amateur theory is that cooler temperatures and the off-site Masquerade and concerts drew more people out of the convention center than usual.  (Plus I’m wondering if Baltimore Pride being the same weekend ate up some hotel rooms?)  Again, these are all amateur theories.  A simpler reason might be that with so many cons within driving distance of Baltimore/D.C., people are just more experienced, better con-goers.  For whatever reason, it was a really nice con.

A lot of my readers will also be glad to note that Otakon went out of its way to convert some of the private, family-style [Men symbol] [Women symbol] [large Disability Access symbol] bathrooms with signs that said “Gender-Neutral” and [Disability Access symbol], offering con-goers who identified outside the binary a specific space of their own.

Awesome!  Except that the disabled access part of that equation comes first.  Always.

(The design of the replacement sign didn't help—“GENDER-NEUTRAL” was huge and the disability access symbol was now the small kind you see on most bathrooms, almost an afterthought, like: “I guess a disabled person could use this space.”  But by the time this incident occurred the sign had been removed or fallen down, making what followed even more facepalmy…)

So there was an incident.  Someone came into one of these restrooms—fine, that happens; the door wasn’t locked because I’d left to hold a place in line—and upon spotting my chronically ill significant other, proceeded to tell her that she needed to leave because this was their bathroom, not hers. While she was taking her medicine.  Through a feeding tube, no less.  While sitting in her wheelchair.  In a bathroom designed and designated for the disabled.

Note that I’m very carefully not labeling this person.  I don’t know how this person identifies, I don't know how this person was presenting, I don't know what pronouns they were using, I don’t know the reasons why they preferred to use the gender-neutral bathroom…and I do know they were just one person being clueless, not a stand-in for an entire community.

But they failed at that moment.  They failed to realize that their journey was not the only journey, or the hardest journey, at that particular place and point in time.  And in their excitement to have a space of their own, they failed to recognize that that space was a shared one, and that they had a responsibility to pause, to reconsider, and to wait for just a few minutes, so that they could afford someone else the same privacy and dignity they were so desperately seeking.

Just something to keep in mind for future cons, and life in general.

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Mist Drake



Mist drakes are less openly aggressive than most drakes,” Bestiary 4 tells us—but that just means they attack when they know they have surprise and cover on their side.  And when you can create your own fog bank, hide (at +15!) even while being observed, and then burst out of the mist with the usual drake speed surge, there’s no need to be open about any of your actions.

The High Way is the only way to cross the great marshes and swamps of the Turling Delta.  Set on pillars sunk deep into the muck, this road meanders through the wetlands for miles.  Mist drakes and medusas are the most common threats found along the road.  Mist drakes burst out of the fog without warning to tail slap or bull rush travelers off the High Way and into the water.  The medusas alternately rob, seduce, or even aid travelers, but in every case they make a custom of leaving token offerings to the drakes to appease their greed.

“The Ripper Returns!” cry the papers, and all of fog-shrouded London huddles in terror.  But while the strikes are surgical, the lacerations are not.  Bobbies soon conclude that beasts are responsible for the recent string of Whitechapel murders, not a serial killer.  They're right—a rampage of mist drakes has found the damp streets of London to be a surprisingly fertile hunting ground.  Meanwhile, other nefarious urban monsters are using the chaos caused by the drakes to cover up for their own indulgences.  In particular, a magistrate who has managed to hide his ghouldom from his peers has begun a hunting spree, as have a cult of sinspawn, with the drakes taking the blame for both.

After the Breaking, the city of Venitar split into its component cities—the City of Fog, the City of Spires, the City of Shadows, the Burning City, the Riven City.  The sages say that each city sits in its own demiplane, slightly out of phase with each other and the normal world.  The citizens know only that they now live in a city empty of four-fifths of its people, that only wayangs may move between the cities freely, and that any attempt to escape more than five miles from any of the five Venitars earns the wrath of the drakes that prowl beyond the cities’ walls and farms.  Mist, spire, shadow, fire, and river and rift drakes all hunt the borderlands, making unraveling the mystery of the Breaking—or even simply escaping—a deadly challenge.

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Again, if you have not yet done so, read, read, read Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities.

Before we get to the contest, anomalitstic asked:

This isn't monster-related but will you be at PaizoCon?

I would love to be.  Unfortunately, through epically bad timing I’m going to be in Seattle the very next weekend instead (I’m going on a cruise to Alaska with my parents and brother), and there’s no way I can justify the time/vacation days/expense to go from Baltimore to Seattle two weeks in a row.  So hopefully next year?  And if you have any good stories from/meet any cool folks at PaizoCon, let me know.

Are a lot of you Seattle folk?  Maybe there’s critical mass for a hangout sometime.

Okay, on to the contest!  (If you need a refresher, the original post is here.)

General thoughts:

1) The overall quality of the entries was pretty high.  So clearly this contest was a mistake, because the last thing I need is competition for this job.  (Fortunately this job is unpaid and healthy-bedtime-killing to boot, but still, I better watch my back.)

2) While it’s dangerous to make assumptions, I think all of the contest entries came from dudes.  (Especially dudes whose names start with J, which just got weird after a while.)  While admittedly this is a male-dominated hobby, I’m a little surprised because female and trans-spectrum readers seem to be some of my most reliable rebloggers.  If I’d noticed the trend earlier I might have done more to encourage non-male entries; since I didn’t, I just want to remind you all that this is definitely your space, too, and your readership is always appreciated.

3) People definitely picked up the gauntlet I threw and tried to give us non-medieval adventure seeds.  Way to stretch and way to keep me entertained.  Thanks!

So let’s share some of these seeds!  (Warning: I have tweaked for grammar/style reasons as I saw fit.  If you submitted more than one entry, I’m including the best.) 

Simon kicked things off really nicely:

Things couldn't get worse for the settlers of Kala. First, a kolzhutar (a variant charybdis) destroyed supply ships, and a seven-headed dragon has been carrying off livestock.  Things are looking up when a ker-kula (a variant dragon horse) offers help.  When it's found brutally mauled after a particularly fog shrouded night, the inhabitants turn their suspicions towards the mist drakes that are frequently sighted near the Mistmarshes.  But their usually nonaggressive nature suggests something darker is at work.

Friggin’ Kazakh folklore?  As the very first submission?  Awesome.  I wish my Kazakh former coworker Aya was still at my firm so I could run this by her.

Josh took us to a modern fantasy India:

On the evening of his arrest, mad geneticist Nolan Singh unleashes his masterwork on the bustling metropolis that is Hyderabad, India.  Paralytic mists rise out of the artificial lakes and rivers that make the city famous.  The city’s people are helpless in its grip.  If hazmat-suited agents could capture the madman, then the people could perhaps be cured, but Singh did not come alone.  His mist drake guard dogs are deadly foes, especially in an environment where the slightest suit breach means failure, or even death.

Jeff knows I’m a sucker for airships:

Shortcuts through the mist are ill advised for airships traveling within the Worldrend. Mist drakes lurk in the fog and pick off travelers from passing ships for food. In some parts of the Worldrend, the magical energies have mutated some of the drakes, which display odd magical variations in their fogburst (nauseating stinking clouds, burning acid fogs, and deadly cloudkills).

Ditto Jacob, who presents this nice ghost ship scenario:

The merchant airships that pass through the Canyon of Vines have gone missing over the last month.  Adventures are hired to see what has happened, only to find all the airships afloat in the canyon, but with no crew.  Before they can investigate further, a fog sweeps in and the bestial roars of mist drakes fill the Canyon.  Are these the culprits?

James should never work for a tourism board:

The fishing town of Soryu has always lived with the deep fogs that plague the coastlines of the feuding Warlord States.  In hushed tones, their elders speak of creatures made of fog that crave the flesh of the living.  They were accustomed to leaving offerings of fish and livestock, and locking their doors on the nights the fog was thickest.  Better to appease the mist drakes, then to end up their next meal.  They grew weary of this practice in time, however.  On the day they were conquered by Warlord Jinkkai and he began stationing patrols around the town, they found the solution to their worries.  When Jinkkai’s men begin disappearing, as did the offerings to the fog, he called for monster slayers from across the Warlord States.  The people of Soryu feasted, knowing that they found a new source of offerings to feed the ever-encroaching mists.

James also does not know I used to know a Buddhist monk named Soryu—he lived next door to my friend Nicole.  Soryu would not approve of these people.

From David:

The people of Danau Atas, a city-state built on an island in a huge, ancient caldera lake, have a symbiotic relationship with the nearby mist drakes.  In an annual ritual, the king plays a certain tune on a flute kept under lock and key the rest of the year, calling the drakes to dance and whirl above him.  But this year, when he sounds the first notes, the drakes react angrily, swooping down on the assembled crowds. Is something wrong with the flute, the king, the drakes—or all three?

(David is also really good at sending questions/comments that get me really excited.)

Connor is a hell of a worldbuilder:

The nation of Vrymr is the economic powerhouse of the Frigid Bowl region of the northern seas because Vrymr Hold is built atop a cave network that leads to the Elemental Plane of Salt; the long winters of the region make extracting salt from seawater a difficult business, and the salt mined from the plane is Vrymr’s chief export throughout the region.  Vrymr is also the premiere naval power of the Frigid Bowl due to a collaboration with the mist drakes that nest in the coastal openings of that same cave network; with their ability to see clearly through mist, fog, rain and snow, a well-trained mist drake navigator is an asset to any ship plying the northern seas—particularly when they can direct cannon fire through the fogbanks that they themselves expel to conceal their ship and baffle their enemies.  Adventurers preparing for a sea voyage could hardly find a more useful crewmate, but finding a ship that can support a full grown drake is a challenge, not to mention trying to entice one away from Vrymr—southern climates disagree with them, and their collective agreement with the Lords of Vrymr forbid them from offering their services to foreign ships. What else those agreements stipulate no one outside of Vrymr seems to know, and no one inside it seems willing to say.

Seriously, all his adventure seeds were like that.

Tumblr (Tumblrer?) justavulcan proposed a similar partnership:

The mist drakes of the Shrouded Coast have long served as companions to the wave-bound oracles who share their lands.  Despite the occasional philosophical difference, the partnerships have lasted through the centuries due not only to similar tactics, but prophetic insights: some say that the masters of the waves can read the future or perform other auguries in the drake-breath.

Another worldbuilder, Jamieson (seriously, the J name thing is getting out of hand) conceived an entire South China Sea-inspired setting and ecology for these drakes.  I can't do his whole post justice here, but here’s a sampling:

The Hanging Library has been under the "official" possession of the Humble Bank of Woodwick for decades, repossessed when its previous owner failed to pay the interest owed.  The matter of clearing out the vermin that came to live in the library, however, was a task left to one of the bank's newer employees—Filin Quirkstone—who decided to introduce four hungry mist drakes to the abandoned hallways and let predatory nature take its course.  The time has come to reclaim the library, built over a series of sea-bound mesas and within a network of lofty caverns centuries ago.  With the drakes and their offspring still lounging comfortably inside, the nearsighted halfling might need a little help in cleaning up the mess. 

That’s some seriously good work—evocative location, bizarrely fantastic and yet weirdly believable scenario, and a great halfling character—and I really want to adventure in Jamieson’s Shanchaoshi campaign.  In fact, I’m calling this the runner-up…and even then it’s a photo finish with the winner.

In the end, though, I think Benjamin narrowly—and I mean narrowly—squeaked out a win:

As a pea soup-thick fog rises off the river Cark, mingling with the smoke of a hundred thousand chimneys and smokestacks, something is butchering the citizens of New Trinovantum.  The Tengu Benevolent Self-Protection Society and the Hippogriff Boys have accused each other.  If the real culprit—a mist drake originally imported as an exotic pet and dumped into the sewers when it stopped being cute—isn't found, the fragile network of treaties and threats that keeps the cities many gangs at peace may be shattered.

As I said, all of the entries were strong—seriously, you guys did great.  What got me about this seed was that it did so much in so little space.  I got a sense of the city, I got a sense of the tone of its people, and I immediately felt like I knew what it was like to live and adventure there.  Cark is a wonderfully terrible name for a river—I imagine it horribly polluted—especially when juxtaposed with the overwrought New Trinovantum.  And how could you not like the TBSPS (tengus!) and the Boys?  (Is their name from a totem symbol or graffiti or a fashion statement or do they own actual hippogriffs?)  Also, I liked that this could be as serious (a mysterious butcher, gang warfare, a city in flames) or fun (a lost pet, sewer drakes, Cockney or Mafia toughs) as the GM and his or her players wanted it to be. 

So Benjamin, send me your details and I’ll mail your prize of Quests of Doom to you.  Everyone else, awesome job, and thanks so much for entering and sharing your ideas with us!

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Lava Drake


One of the most powerful drake species, lava drakes know exactly how dangerous they and their environments are.  It’s no wonder they are so arrogant in their dealings with humanoids and crave worship from beings like kobolds.  When you can bathe in lava that reduces other creatures to ash, of course you’re going to have a superiority complex.

Lava drakes should always attack from surprise, and ideally land right in the middle of the party—spewing pyroclastic vomit, shaking magma off itself like a dog after a bath, and generally causing as much damage as possible.

Lava drakes are hunting dwarves in the southwest passages of Dunatar.  They seem to be holed up in a particularly treacherous set of tunnels on the seventh level.  The only way to circle about and flush them out would be via the locked chambers used by the embalmers’ guild, but strangely they refuse entry to all, even in this time of crisis.

A lava drake “gardener” tends a collection of magma oozes in his tropical volcano home.  Once they grow to a sufficient size, he waits for a rainstorm and then lures the oozes aboveground to be petrified.  Storing their stony forms in various pools and hot springs near his lair, he releases the ravenous magma oozes to harry the flanks of anyone who he deems a threat.

Drake racing, using beasts with clipped wings, is a dangerous but intoxicating sport.  Heats are run according to size, typically featuring shadow, river, and forest drakes.  Scandal erupts when a new racing concern enters lava drakes in the forest drake class, particularly as that stable’s hands have also not been shy about throwing their weight around.

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I’m showing my Baltimore pride with a secretly Preakness-inspired adventure seed there.

By sheer coincidence Pathfinder Adventure Path #92: The Hill Giant’s Pledge showed up at work today, featuring Russ Taylor’s “Ecology of the Drake,” an overview of all the drake species. 

A small but passionate crowd of pulp fans dig the lashunta.  Filby hooked us up with their inspiration:

Quick note that the lashuntas (or at least their women) are based on the Cupians from Ralph Milne Farley’s 1948 novel, The Radio Man. The Cupians were basically humans from Venus with antennae that let them communicate telepathically via radio waves. They were also oppressed by the ant-like Formians, which were lifted wholesale into D&D and made the transition to Pathfinder relatively unchanged.


Have you seen this Old Venus compilation, edited by George R. R. Martin and Gardner Dozois? Looks like a lot of people are giving the genre some love right now.

I have now—thanks!

Also, heads up!  I am going to have a contest!  Where you can win a free RPG hardcover!  Keep an eye on these posts over the next few days!  I’m not saying that to draw out the suspense; I just haven’t decided what the contest will be yet!  Exclamation marks are fun!

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Desert Drake


Desert drakes are…yeah, you guessed it.  Drakes.  That live in the desert.  Powerful ones at that, besting all but their neighbors, the rift drakes, and the hardy lava drakes.

Like blue dragons, desert drakes are earth dragons with electricity-laced breath.  Unlike blue dragons, they come in mottled tans and yellows and reds, mirroring the terrain of their desert habitats.  Thus, they are more ambush predators and burrowers than fliers, creatures of dunes, cliffs, and rocky outcroppings more than the open sky.

In addition to the usual drake abilities, desert drakes have a Dazzling Emergence (Ex) ability they can use during a surprise round.  The Bestiary 3 doesn't really specify what that ability looks like.  The default assumption is it has something to do with the drake’s bite or gnashing of teeth because of its Weapon Focus (bite) feat, but there are plenty of real-world lizard displays you could steal from.  Maybe it flashes an electric blue tongue like a skink, raises a frill like frilled lizard, or spurts blood from its eyes like a horned lizard.

A pair of desert drakes takes advantage of a giant ant lion’s sand traps.  When a victim stumbles into the vermin’s pit, the desert drakes race in to pick off his companions while they are distracted.  The drakes may even snatch a bite or two from the ant lion’s victim, relying on their speed surges to avoid the bug’s giant pincers.

A rampage of drakes corners a janni just as adventurers arrive on the scene.  They are better fliers, they press their advantage too closely for invisibility to work, and the janni already expended his ethereal jaunt on one of the strange errands of his kind.  He strongly suggests that there is a flying carpet in it for them if the adventurers aid him.  But he is careful to promise nothing, because his flight is an inherent gift and the carpet he sits upon is merely for show.  He plans to hand it over and vanish before the adventurers call his bluff.

The Endless White is a nearly lifeless salt plain populated by only a few pure white desert drakes.  Even the pillars they nest on are salt.  Possibly these columns are natural; possibly they are all that is left of unfortunates who offended some god.  (They may also indicate the presence of a portal to the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Salt.)  The drakes’ dazzling display involves shooting blood from their eye ducts, and the crimson splash on the white salt crust is often the last color their victims ever see.

Pathfinder Bestiary 3 105

Argh!  I keep forgetting to post my radio show.  Here it is!  Get it now!  The link expires Friday (11/21) at midnight, and it’s already Wednesday!

By the way, props to pierrotlunaire, brain-jack, eswynn, and pacific-resistance for showing support during the show.

Also, I’m getting this bizarre thing were my microphone vocals sound bad on my home computer but fine on my work one.  If it sounds bad for you, my apologies; I don’t know what’s up.  Listen anyway—the new Ex Cops track “White Noise” is awesome, and while I was never a rabid Shins fan, getting to hear early James Mercer vocals on the Flake Music reissue is just glorious.