It's time fer another round o' scallywags an' ne'er-do-wells, straight from me own life experiences...
Hobgoblin – I never been much for the military (too regimented fer this rascal’s taste) but I give ‘em a healthy respect. An' every time I see Hobgoblins in action I remember why. They fight like soldiers, they do. Got better armor than plain ol’ Goblins, fight in formation with shields locked, an’ they don’t get fazed in all that battlefield chaos. They’re big, too, big as a tavern lout. For that alone you’d never mistake ‘em fer Goblins, but they also got skin colored like dried blood. Truth is, they’re like a whole race a’ soldiers - small wonder they’re the boss ‘round their Goblin an’ Bugbear cousins. Best yeh can do against ‘em is break their coordination an’ try ta split ‘em up. One-on-one (or three on one – that’s Finjaq-style!) ya got a chance. Oh, an’ hey, keep a special eye out fer their shamans. “Warcasters” they call ‘em an’ they’ll be the ones in robes. Got several tricks up their sleeves, an’ the worst by far’s a blast wave that hammers an area big as a house. Knocks every man jack on his ass an’ feels like the worst hangover ever.
Ghoul – Vile. Nasty. Rancid. I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout me table manners, friend, I’m talkin’ ‘bout them nasty cousins ta zombies: Ghouls. They got the same stomach-turnin’ desire fer flesh, but no zombie ever moved so lightnin’-fast as a ghoul. What they look like’s a bone-thin man with rottin’ flesh an’ teeth filed ta cut an’ tear. They’re cunning as the taxman, an’ just a touch more like ta outright kill ya. They’ll come at ya quiet-like from the shadows, cut on ya with claws that’ll make yer legs sieze up, and then comes the bite. They’ll near unhinge their damnable jaw for that big chomp, an’ if it hits…if it hits yeh better pray yer friends are nearby ‘cause then yer whole body’s gonna stiffen. I can’t imagine no worse way ta go. Frozen stiff, but still alive when it gets ta chewin’ on yer insides. I figure you wanna let the archers chew ‘em up a’fore ye even think of gettin’ in close, and if yeh got a holy man who lives ta smite undead bastards back ta their graves, for Pelor’s sake let ‘im!
Homunculus – Alright, here’s the thing – little impish flyin’ beasties, look like they’re made’a clay, right? Kind of bad-things-come-in-small-packages critter only some damn fool wizard would cook up, but far from the worst thing lurkin’ in most underground lairs? An’ yet…an’ yet…they got some tricks up their sleeve that’ll make ya want ta pitch the next wizard ya see into a lake. I suggest yeh do it, I really do. Their first line o’ defense is them bitey teeth – a few good chomps an’ yer walkin’ ‘bout as fast as a cripple. Plus they got some magic lets ‘em get in yer head and rattle ya good so’s ya can’t hit ‘em. They’ll even have ya swingin’ at yer own mates instead! Poor ol’ Finjaq near met his end that way, one dark day. See, this half-elven lass he
used to trust near turned him into a pin cushion tryin’ ta put an arrow through one’a them little sodders. To this day I’m workin’ through me trauma.
Hobgoblin – I never been much for the military (too regimented fer this rascal’s taste) but I give ‘em a healthy respect. An' every time I see Hobgoblins in action I remember why. They fight like soldiers, they do. Got better armor than plain ol’ Goblins, fight in formation with shields locked, an’ they don’t get fazed in all that battlefield chaos. They’re big, too, big as a tavern lout. For that alone you’d never mistake ‘em fer Goblins, but they also got skin colored like dried blood. Truth is, they’re like a whole race a’ soldiers - small wonder they’re the boss ‘round their Goblin an’ Bugbear cousins. Best yeh can do against ‘em is break their coordination an’ try ta split ‘em up. One-on-one (or three on one – that’s Finjaq-style!) ya got a chance. Oh, an’ hey, keep a special eye out fer their shamans. “Warcasters” they call ‘em an’ they’ll be the ones in robes. Got several tricks up their sleeves, an’ the worst by far’s a blast wave that hammers an area big as a house. Knocks every man jack on his ass an’ feels like the worst hangover ever.
Ghoul – Vile. Nasty. Rancid. I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout me table manners, friend, I’m talkin’ ‘bout them nasty cousins ta zombies: Ghouls. They got the same stomach-turnin’ desire fer flesh, but no zombie ever moved so lightnin’-fast as a ghoul. What they look like’s a bone-thin man with rottin’ flesh an’ teeth filed ta cut an’ tear. They’re cunning as the taxman, an’ just a touch more like ta outright kill ya. They’ll come at ya quiet-like from the shadows, cut on ya with claws that’ll make yer legs sieze up, and then comes the bite. They’ll near unhinge their damnable jaw for that big chomp, an’ if it hits…if it hits yeh better pray yer friends are nearby ‘cause then yer whole body’s gonna stiffen. I can’t imagine no worse way ta go. Frozen stiff, but still alive when it gets ta chewin’ on yer insides. I figure you wanna let the archers chew ‘em up a’fore ye even think of gettin’ in close, and if yeh got a holy man who lives ta smite undead bastards back ta their graves, for Pelor’s sake let ‘im!
Homunculus – Alright, here’s the thing – little impish flyin’ beasties, look like they’re made’a clay, right? Kind of bad-things-come-in-small-packages critter only some damn fool wizard would cook up, but far from the worst thing lurkin’ in most underground lairs? An’ yet…an’ yet…they got some tricks up their sleeve that’ll make ya want ta pitch the next wizard ya see into a lake. I suggest yeh do it, I really do. Their first line o’ defense is them bitey teeth – a few good chomps an’ yer walkin’ ‘bout as fast as a cripple. Plus they got some magic lets ‘em get in yer head and rattle ya good so’s ya can’t hit ‘em. They’ll even have ya swingin’ at yer own mates instead! Poor ol’ Finjaq near met his end that way, one dark day. See, this half-elven lass he used to trust near turned him into a pin cushion tryin’ ta put an arrow through one’a them little sodders. To this day I’m workin’ through me trauma.
3 comments:
One action point for Dave and Finjaq.
The latter might be nursing a small grudge against Brynn... watch out for future homunculi, Brynn... Finjaq might "forget" about their special powers when you're standing next to them. :)
Okay, but I didn't KNOW! I may have suspected, but that isn't the same as "knowing"!
And I didn't shoot the thing again when Finjaq started cursing me, did I!?
Because you would later go on to roguishly con an innocent dwarf out of his gold...
Finjaq forgives.
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