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Text-only below, unformatted. Keith Review: Teratic Tome by Rafael Chandler I don't do a lot of reviews. I should probably do more, actually, I certainly read enough RPG material.
Short form: holy balls is this an impressive book. The description of the creature later is even more so, and I'll come to that later. Actually, let's look at the actual image he posted. Those little lights you see in the bottom-left corner of the front cover are mighty heroes who presumably question their choice of career right now. Chandler, at this point you had my attention. Now let's take a look at the inside.
Reading the monster descriptions - I bought the hardcover from Lulu, the thank you email included a link for a free PDF download of the book; I ended up printing and binding this at home because I didn't want to wait. Impatience pays off sometimes, and this is one of those times.
The book is laid out in old style fashion, all internal art is monotone - some line art, some grey scale - and the monster descriptions start right after each other rather than each starting on its own page. Normally I favor monster books that start each monster on its own page, but this let Rafael fit more in the same space, and it entirely fit the tone of the book. I once had two players snap and turn on each other. One was a rather serves-his-own-needs evil villain type, and the other was a bounty hunter.
The bounty hunter did something stupid that got the villain attacked by town guards. As a result, the villian, in character, decided to poison the other character with wolfsbane in a wineskin That was the first entry in our book of Thou Shalt Not.
Thou Shalt Not turn other characters into skin flails. Good thing it was a one-off! I had spent a lot of time working up my character background and writing in the little details that breathe life into a character sheet.
My character was an assassin in a group of villainous types. In a group full of villains, everyone wants to be the top dog and our group had one particularly diabolical psionicist mastermind. I am not even certain how our rivalry escalated so quickly, but after a short amount of banter it quickly became clear that we both regarded ourselves as the leader of our rogues gallery.
With a quick mind control, I was disabled and my so-called ally had pulled one of my swords and slashed my throat with a vicious coup de grace. No one lifted a finger to stop it, and no one was playing a character that wanted to resurrect me what villainous squad would go without a necromancer? Quell, Tiefling Psion in Dark Sun: torn in half and devoured by a flame demon.
Coup de grace. My worst character death was a very messy affair. We were playing in a tropical island environment and had been on the island for nearly a month in game time 5 game sessions trying to find and loot a lost temple. After we found the temple we were cursed and any PC that suffered damage from the native wildlife suffered from a fungal infection that was slowly taking the over.
Our cleric was able to cure disease each day one player at a time. I was play Dorn a fighter and was able to make the petrification save consistently to keep the infection at bay. But over the last day another combat and a failed save made it likely I was going to fall to the disease.
But we were making out way back with loot to leave the island when one of the players remembered a random encounter we had during the first session with several statues likely created by a Basilisk. His brilliant idea was that if I could get myself petrified it would be like being in suspended animation and I could be returned to civilization and saved once we had more spells available. So while returning to our ship we went hunting for the basilisk.
When we find the ruined statues we quickly learned it wasn't a Basilisk we saw signs of but a conclave of 3 Medusai. Still sticking to the plan I engage and look at them to turn to stone.
We killed one before I failed a save. I think I'm safe. Just two Medusa left to fight then I can be brought back at a later time. But the next round our cleric is hit by a medusa poison arrow which killed him. The other players not wanting the same fate flee.
My stone PC is left behind. No rescue mission was ever sent to retrieve him. Not to buck up a competitor, but this is a great story! Really made me smile. The following happened in a Middle-Earth Role Playing session way back in the s: Our group stumbled upon an agent of Sauron speaking to a large group of villagers who was turning them against us.
I looked down at my character sheet and saw, for whatever reason, that my character had "Public Speaking" as a skill, so I foolishly tried to persuade the audience to our side. I critically failed my roll. The villagers swarmed me with a motley arrawy of weapons before moving on to the rest of the group. I vividly remember my character getting My character was as good as dead. None of those criticals outright killed my character or knocked him unconscious, so he was very much alive and awake as the villagers bludgeoned him to death.
Besides, combat in MERP can take quite a bit of time with all of those combat charts--especially when mulitple characters do multiple criticals. And there were other characters who needed to die. Somebody else got cut down and pretty much dismembered by the villagers--once again, multiple criticals.
The agent of Sauron severed another character's lower leg. The character was trying to run away. I remember that there were two survivors. One was a hobbit. The other was a human or an elf who feel unconscious from blood loss. The game, and the campaign as I recall, ended with trying to figure out how the hobbit could carrying the wounded character to safety.
So, not only did I get my character brutally killed, but more than half the group as well, pretty much ending the campaign. Gribble, my RuneQuest Trickster, beheaded for serial murder, including eating two party members and the attempted consumption of a third. Would you believe that despite that, he was the most popular character I've ever played in that group? Upon turning the body up, a banshee sprung from it and wailed. He failed the save and died.
Ah, the good ol' save or die I was like WTF? Whose character ever put wax into his ears before entering a dungeon? I mostly DM, but I have caused some fun player deaths.
After losing two P. Entering a lair and being meet by bow fire from orcs the rest of the party charged in, he turned invisible and hung out in the back. This is more of a story of survival, in a sense. Sure, there was a lot of death, but the funny part comes from the one that walked away.
I don't want to give too many details, because it was a playtest for a module that's about to be released by Goodman games, but here's the set-up -- The party had been exploring a strange "dungeon" that had been previously buried under ice. We had lost a few of our party to various contraptions, traps, and other nastiness.
One of the players lost his first two characters pretty quickly we were each running 3, as is common with the DCC -Level Funnel Rules , so he was playing the rest of the session very cautiously. When we came across what looked like a treasure room, he decided to stay back and "guard the doorway", rather than exploring the room.
When the rest of us had passed through the door, it slammed shut, locking him outside. We all figured he was done for, as the lone person left out of the room.
A few artifacts were picked up, a couple buttons were pushed and eventually a "light sword" was passed through an "invisible shocking wall". It caused a giant explosion, killing everyone in the room. We avoided the TPK, only because the guy who didn't want to risk his last character had stayed outside.
After hearing the explosion, he wandered back through the dungeon and back to the village, telling them they should probably just avoid the whole area.
Back in Junior High we had a cluster of games we'd run in the library during breaks and Lunch. We'd break those massive groups up into units of five, each with a caller who gave orders to a capitan who relayed them to us.
Good times. Most of our games were large scale dungeon crawl affairs, and this particular Game Master was on a Monster hybridizing kick from the mindset that brought you the Thoul. The beast had four spell casting eyes, and four tentacles that, on striking an opponent, did damage and caused damaged to be transposed from that point onwards ala its transposer heritage.
By sacrificing most of the War Dogs and a good number of the Hirelings we'd worked out the sequence of the critters displacement, each round 3' in a different direction, rotating clockwise. What we hadn't worked out was the transposing, and I'd been hit.
Unfortunately for Luc the fifth level fighter, I had a plan. I had everyone hide in an alcove of the dungeon with the Spell casters using whatever they had to conceal us, and the thieves hiding in shadows around the room.
We all prepped missile weapons, spears, knives, slings, arrows, Magic Missiles, anything we could throw at the abomination. When the foul creature entered the room everyone let loose in one grand volley. As we finished a wild bout of to-hit rolls everyone was suddenly stunned to find out that the creature only had an AC of 6 odd, that was the same AC as Luc , they were even more shocked when Luc started screaming and fell to the ground, a pincushion, run through with everything they had and singed by magic missile fire.
They were even more shocked to realize that they were all exposed, and it was the creatures turn to attack. The remainder ran for the exit, and never returned.
They say you can still hear the beast to this day, mumbling to himself "Who's idea was I anyways? Half-elf ranger can't remember the name skinned alive by cannibals and eaten in front of the party. I usually GM, so let me tell you about the nastiest way somebody has died in my game. Note that English isn't my first language, so please disregard all grammar errors, which, I'm sure, will be abundant. You see, Calen, a friend of my players, was quite a handsome fellow, yet his body was frail.
He bled too easily. Any cut meant that he risked his life. Beyond that, he was a strong young man. And he accepted a pact with beings beyond the veil to learn how to be stronger. The Arcane Academy where the players adventure as iniciates is superficially similar to Hogwarts, but this one is located just over the Carcieri Inversa, a thorn on side the world where monsters live and breed. The iniciates are not only students, but also jailors for the Inverted Prison. But there were beings that could project their thoughts beyond the Carcieri, into the minds of impressionable men.
Calen was very close to one of the female characters of the party, Claire. Claire was a caste follower of the White Goddess. She teased him and he responded, but nothing happened.
Through their adventures I described the strengthening of Calen. He grew healthier and stronger, following the instructions from his secret masters. But, when Claire finally chose Andrai, another player character, as a partner, he broke.
He plotted to kill him secretly in several invasions from the Carcieri to the academy, which failed, yet left Andrai blind, which made her care more about him, all of this with the players ignoring the workings of Calen.
His anger finally took the best of him. Calen decided that he would do this quickly now, and without subtleties. He invited Andrai to go out of the Academy, to the city, to chat. Alone, he would be an easier pray. Andrai went with Calen. The players realized what was happening soon enough after Calen had Andrai far from the academy. They went to save him, after all, he would be quite an easy target blind.
Andrai started hearing strange, wet noises. He started calling Calen, but he didn't answer to his calls. When the players came, they saw a tall, bloated and beating column of flesh and tendrils and, on the top, hanged the broken body of Calen, with terror in his eyes.
Calen's strengthening was the result of the nesting process of the astral beast, which feed on his hatred. His health was just the way how the beast replaced Calen's organs with his own.
Now the transformation was complete. After a long fight, the characters managed to destroy the astral beast. Calen, now, a fleshless bag of skin, didn't survive. Michael Bolan: it was my wife whose character actually caused that explosion.
My character is a stereotypical Army Sergeant. He's facing Dagon, or at least, an enormous Deep One. He empties his guns into it to no avail. So then he lights a stick of dynamite, lights the fuse, and leaps into the creature's maw. Where to begin There was once a corridor described as "gently sloping, with small holes in the walls".
The party decided that it "seemed safe enough", and proceeded down it. As Agord the Cleric was crossing the end, the oil sprayers activated and the pit trap with the gelatinous cube opened beneath him. The rear half of the party saved to avoid slipping down the oiled slope, and miraculously all succeeded, while the fighter and paladin at the front made a heroic attempt to pull Agord out of the cube which had paralyzed him. They got him out, but he was paralyzed and bled to death because he couldn't heal himself and the paladin was already out of laying on hands.
And then they hired a thief instead of a new cleric, which ended up costing them more casualties in the long run. The Morlock Massacre - party engages part of a lair of morlocks in a stairwell, burning oil does most of them in but the few that break through manage to kill the party's trusty war dog, Monty.
Party is low on spells and out of healing, but decides to push through to the lair and kill them all in vengeance. The paladin falls to a hail of arrows and a surge of axe-morlocks, and the thief is likewise cut down. The elf thief-wizard makes his move silently rolls and maneuvers out of the stairwell into the lair, while Tormund the hench-fighter, using the fallen paladin's magic shield, charges out into the morlocks as the rest of the henchmen flee.
Tormund and the morlocks fight inconclusively for several rounds while the elf watches, but his nerve breaks and he flees loudly up the now-deserted stairs, igniting the oil in the thief's pack as he goes and sealing the fallen thief and paladin's fates. Three morlocks break after him; two die in the fire, but the last cuts him down on the stairs. Tormund then manages to miraculously kill every last son-of-a-morlock, with all rolls in the open, carries the paladin's corpse out of the dungeon for resurrection, casually stabs the morlock who was eating the elf in the stairwell, and rolls no random encounters on the way out.
And so a new and beloved PC was born, out of an almost-TPK Tormund subsequently died once while collecting yellow mold spores for use as a weapon, and again when she rolled a one while deploying said spores against a lair of angry troglodytes, but was raised from the dead both times.
For a more complete list of the deaths in that campaign, see here. They I was the GM had to do it one man at a time, to avoid having the bridge collapse under their combined weight. So, it's the cleric turn and as he is more or less halway through, a giant flying thing, much like a pterodactyl or one of those beasts the Nazgul ride, comes down from a nearby cliff to attack him.
He's holding fast ot the bridge not to fall, so he's basically helpless against the thing. Un luckily for him, his companions are there to help!
The party's fighter quickly draws her bow and shoot the beast. Critical hit! Foe drops dead instantly! At first the cleric is like "yeah, nice shot man! We traveled on board of a ship on a river in the North of the Forgotten Realms. In the night a ship was spotted and as it turned out, it had an undead crew and we were attacked. Our Halfling thief, the paladin and I, a shadow dancer, tried to board the ship to lay fire on the rotten boards of the enemy ship.
We jumped and the Halfling and I all nimble hands and so on but no nimble feet both botched our rolls and we fell into the icy water. The current was strong but we managed to reach the dry shore just to watch our ship getting boarded. Shortly after, we were joined by our witch, who also has jumped over board to escape death.
But death followed us…We had no equipment with us to start a fire and the witch had no spells left after the fight. So we waited till morning and just as the morning sun started to rise we froze to our death. Glorious ending ;. The following occurred during an exploration of a Gothic dungeon a la Ravenloft : My character was the group leader, a fighter. The door he opened before dying was actually 10 feet above the floor of the next room.
Unbalanced, he fell The vampire quickly closed the coffin with my character inside to take care of the group. You can guess the rest! Not sure how gruesome it was, but a memorable death for sure.
I thought I was so cool. I was the forward scout in some sort of plate magical maybe armor, and I floated right into the clutches, or rather clubs, of the Formorian giants.
The battle didn't last long, I was a smooshed puddle of bloody cleric pulp on the floor within a round or two. The party worried, but started to debate about how to get through the eels, when my friend Dan's failed bard, Gheros DeVaskos, charged through the eels - with nary a scratch, to fall to the giants as well. The paladin of the group finally decided to get moving, and took eel hit after eel hit. Finally the party got through to defeat the giants. But the other cleric of Celestian had a scroll of resurrect dead.
Problem solved for Neutral Good Bizard! Dan and I actually shook hands and laughed. Then my friend Jim felt bad. You can do what you want, but remember that last bit. You being a cleric and all. Maybe not so gory, but definitely a great death in a good game! I GM way way more than I play, and I haven't seen many of my characters die, but one was pretty funny.
They would survive pretty well, but eventually they retired or keeled. Once, one of these careful characters died in a rain of acid. I decided to roll up something very different to my usual style - a dumb, raging, mighty barbarian. Five minutes later - "You see a long hallway. At the end stands an angry looking Maybe an orc.
I rage and charge, axe out. There was a hundred foot pit trap halfway down the hall, spikes and old bodies on it and all. I was kind of pissed for about a minute, then we all laughed. Well, first ever PC death: my character I think a dwarf fighter, but honestly don't remember much about him -- killed by a poisoned arrow from Hercules. I was 10, and I cried. I argued like a maniac that there was no way a bale of hay could hit such a small target that was so close to a corner, etc.
The Vikings had besieged a keep and two players were holed up in the keep. One of them challenged the Viking leader to single combat in a bid to raise the siege. The Viking won, chopping off the PCs arms, then legs, and he miraculously kept making his survival rolls. The Viking then blinded him popping the eyeballs with his thumbs , and left him a 'living corpse' -- I think the DM had recently read some novels about vikings where something similar happened. Well, at least it wasn't the 'blood eagle' treatment.
Probably the bloodiest PC kills I've had as a DM were a TPK by ghouls with several PCs eaten before the paralyzed eyes of the others , and at another time a cleric was picked up bodily be a pair of gargoyles and dropped from a great height. They party carried out his dented armor and a bucket of his remains. I think my favorite character death was actually in Rifts. I played a necromancer who learned his art because he was seeking a way to raise his dead brother from the grave; when he learned that all his magic could do was make undead, he was despondent.
At the beginning of the campaign, he believed he had nothing to live for, and joined the group out of boredom and despair. Over time, he came to care for his companions, and gradually awakened to the world again.
Then one day, the party was fighting a powerful cyborg, who grabbed my wife's character and hurled her through the air. The impact would kill her. My necromancer leapt into the air and caught her, trying to shield her w8th his body. He would die instead, sacrificing his life for a friend. I rolled poorly, and instead they both died a meaningless death. The Death of Glibleaf the Elf: The foot locker was jerked off the floor and inelegantly swung back and forth as unthinking creatures carried it into the hallway.
The chest was dropped roughly to the sound of breaking bones. The lid was opened, and Glibleaf feared what stood above. Glibleaf turned to his left, where a priest in black and purple robes was crouched over the body of Galagaron, his traveling companion.
Galagaron awoke as the priest finished his spell. In pain from his many wounds, Galagaron still tried to reach for his weapon, but a large undead gnoll stood on top of it. Those of us with power and understanding raise our undead from the living! While the elf was yet being tortured, the priest started casting again.
It was a sunken, unhealthy Galagaron that received the second touch upon his forehead. With little more energy or voice to scream, his pain came out in bloody rasps, tearing at his throat. When they opened, Glibleaf could see the burning hatred of the undead as the ex-elf realized his condition and sought to wreak vengeance on the living. The dwarf himself was nowhere to be seen, unless the ashes on the floor were his unfortunate remains. As he contemplated these things, a zombie bent down to pick up the glowing axe.
He must not be dead! As the entire hand turned to ash, the axe fell back to the floor and returned to its former hue. A voice from behind Glibleaf jumped him. For a moment he had forgotten who and where he was.
Cyric will love it! You have seen your doom, now embrace it! The last thing the elf felt was his life leaving while a burning hatred for the living rose up inside him…that and the scream tearing out of his throat.
Spoilers for Horror On the Orient Express follow! I ran this game, but it's the most memorable character death I've experienced. The player-characters are all on the Orient Express, having collected a number of pieces of the central MacGuffin.
Also on the train is an old vampire named Fenalik, also after the MacGuffin. He knows where they player-characters are, but he cannot get to them in their cabin because he hasn't been invited in.
So Fenalik is outside, scratching at the door, and the players are having a good old time taunting him from the safety of the private room beyond. He gets desperate and begins to plead with them, which of course makes them taunt him even more. Then he starts to get angry and begins threatening them; he comes up with all sorts of elaborate scenarios regarding their gruesome deaths at his hands.
Then one of the players -- caught up in the moment -- laughs at the bitter old vampire and says "Just come in and try it! Only one of the player-characters died in that fight -- and not the one who made the blunder -- but it was everything leading up to it that made it so memorable. His description of my character was apt. Imbroglio worships the mysterious elven god Faux.
This god is so mysterious that no one on the planet has ever heard of him but Imbroglio. Faux also talks to Imbroglio. The DM is, however, unaware of most of these conversations as they take place inside of Tim's head. It is rumored that Imbroglio was run out of the elven lands by his own kinsfolk. Upon meeting Imbroglio, it is understandable why. Imbroglio has large amount of pamphlets, explaining in full detail why everyone, including you, should worship Faux.
Did I say he has a lot of pamphlets? Imbroglio runs a traveling road show, developed with the express purpose of spreading Faux's divine message. The road show is comprised of many people that do not know they are part of the road show. They just happen to be innocent bystanders.
Imbroglio uses his amazing feats of strength to sway potential devotees by breaking stick on his forehead. Some say he has hit himself too many times in the head with wood. Imbroglio attempted to teach the Druid the mysteries of Faux, but the Druid would have none of it. Cutting Imbroglio off abruptly, he told Imbroglio exactly what he though of Faux, and those that worshiped him. Unfortunately for Imbroglio, the Druid had friends in high places who did not appreciate their friend getting manhandled.
The Druid cast a summoning spell, and a Unicorn was summoned from the ether. Said unicorn promptly joined the fray, and alas, poor Imbroglio was struck down, pierced through the heart by the horn of the Unicorn. Since there was no cover, I had the other PCs start several fires to hide behind. Hide they did. I decided to bum rush the crossbow guy. Cloning potion: the clone had a crane's head and was made of ash.
I sent him off toward the crossbow guy with some poison, hoping he'd get them to drink it, but we never saw him again he survived. Green Slime 1: Gave to the only other PC brave enough to come with me to confront the fish people. The goal was to get it in the river to poison the Fish People's ecosystem. Crossbow guy said he'd let me go if I shot the other PC in the back. I did, thinking I'd use a Reincarnation Potion on him after. I got him in the leg. He guzzled the Green Slime potion and rushed toward the Crossbow wielding Fish guys, but turned into Slime before that.
The Dwarf reincarnated as a lady a bit later. I got attacked by a Fish Guy, and threw my second and last Green Slime potion at him. Conveniently, he was in the water, so our goal of poisoning their ecosystem as petty revenge - hey, don't look at me, it was the other PCs' idea UNfortunately, he nets me and pulls me in the water and we both get slimed a bit.
I climbed out of the river with rapidly spreading slime onto a house on stilts where I thought the captured PC was. It was just a trap, the captured PC was upriver somewhere. I tried to scrape the Slime off my leg on the doorway as the house sank, but to no avail.
I got out of the house trap, but not the river, which was rapidly becoming slime as all wildlife was consumed by it. I don't know how it reads written out like that, but it felt like a fucking horrorshow through and through - making the least-bad decision in front of me and they all turned out the worst possible way.
The other PCs agree- they kept interjecting with "What the fucks" and stayed to watch hours after their PCs were safe. It was awesome. Jack-be-quick was an aspiring thief but not named correctly, while attempting to sneak up a sloped tunnel to scout out a kobold lair he apparently fell down as the slope was steep and oiled.
The group being Planescape fans and all, it made sense for the time that group was gaming together. I should put in a non-gimmicky response. A few I recall: Nameless the Wizard. Slain by magic missile, which he was trying to cast at his opponent at the time. Just wasn't fast enough on the draw. Can't be bothered to dig up the character sheet for the actual name, or if I even bothered to keep it.
I must have understood the rules wrong at the time because this character couldn't activate a single power. He kept failing his rolls. Latched on to his scimitar like it was worth its weight in gold, cause it was the only thing that worked. He wasn't remotely decent with it anyway. Got shived repeatedly by some thugs while his buddy was occupied with other members of the same gang.
DM even threw a few rolls with the thugs to give me the chance to summon up something, anything, so Fail could save his own hide. Didn't matter. Literally couldn't manifest a mental whimper to save his life. Death multiple stab wounds in a dark alley was a good death for Fail, considering at that point I was about to have him walk into the desert without supplies to bring a swift end to his inept misery.
Or my inept misery I guess. I always DM. The Orb, an Artifact created by the god of magic himself, was a highly dangerous little toy. Intelligent, holding a potentially limitless power to Alter Reality and designed to eventually, permanently merge its own consciousness with that of its wielder, the Orb could possibly, totally subsume Sascha's personality. Sascha was holding her infant in her arms as she went about her studies.
He then proceeds to demand that his wife give up the highly unstable Orb. Which, considering what the Axe was doing to him, was more than a little hypocritical. And considering that his wife was the most powerful Archmage in the world, it was also more than a little futile. But, since his Int was all of a When married couples argue it can get messy. When both husband and wife are powerful personages in a fantasy world, it can get dangerous.
Sascha told her husband to go to hell! Sounds good! Rolls a bloody 1! How perfect was that! The Axe bites into the skull of the infant, killing it instantly, spraying brains and blood all over Sascha's robes. Sascha teleports out, as the Axe returns to the King. Everyone laughs their asses off! Sascha had her son resurrected. Eventually, the royal couple made-up.
More or less. Can't say I've had too many; but three do come to mind though two of them aren't my character. In the course of doing so we encounter a wight, none of us think we can take him being as we're still 1st lvl so we negotiate with them, feeding his ego and pledging ourselves to his cause to destroy the deep gnomes. The wight doesn't trust us so we offer to leave a party member as a hostage. After the group left the hostage was killed.
Of course our characters don't know that last bit yet. Insult to injury the DM informed us after the session that if we had attack him the wight would have fled. Next one with me at the helm, was introducing some friends to LotFP, only games they had played before had been World of Darkness. Thought I'd start things easily enough with Tower of the Stargazer. Party member died on the way there as I rolled a random wilderness encounter.
The character died to a badger. Not a great death by any means, and almost pointless in its absurdity. My own character death was pathetic and amusing. So I rolled up a hobgoblin barbarian. Things started off well enough, we followed the story the GM was setting before us and it had us encountering many sentient evil monsters. We would negotiate with all of them as we didn't want to die. This brought us eventually into a fight between the minions of an Aboleth and a Roper. The Roper's minions were easy to take care of with my character posing as bait and fleeing into a cloud of mist provided by our spell caster; of course he had to jump a pit in order to reach safety as we had dug one to trap the minions.
And remember to brush your teeth! There seems to be a strong theme of creatures that seek out specific victims — the Acronical, for example, is an insectile beast created by ancient priests to find and destroy those who have been unfaithful to their spouses, as well as any who have aided and abetted such activity.
The Epexiant is a tentacled serpent who seeks out those who are so wracked with grief that they do not wish to carry on with their lives. And these are not even entries from the demon or devil sections! These are not monsters for a cheerful, fairy-taleish dungeon crawl. The dragons feature a list of horrific events that occur to herald their approach — unnatural weather, animal slaughter, and much worse.
The halflings keep hell hounds as pets, and torture their captives for entertainment. The artwork is superb, and other than a few typos and a section where some paragraphs were repeated, the layout and content is excellent. Save these for the grownups. And only the grownups with strong stomachs. And some plot ideas.
Okay, make that one gripe. Print him out, put him together, and let him sort out the naughty and the nice! Looks like I let a few days slide by whilst preparing for Christmas festivities in the Walton household. Sorry about that, kids. To make up for it, here is a double dose of Krampus freebie goodness! Remember to be good, or you might hear some cloven hooves on your doorstep this Christmas Eve!
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