[ACKS Monster] Horned Ape

I love Russ Nicholson's art in the Fiend Folio, and I was checking out his website. This picture spoke to me, sufficiently to hammer out a monster to match it. I hope you enjoy-

Horned Ape
Lair: 19+
Dungeon: Troop (1d6)/Den (2d10)
Wilderness: Band (2d4)/Den (2d10)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 120' (40')
AC: 3
Hit Dice: 3
Attacks: 3 (slam, slam) or 1 (horn gore)
Damage: 1d4/1d4 or 1d8
Save: F2
Morale: 0
TT: A (in Den)
XP: 50

Long ago,  the inhuman "Green Monks" came to the world of Rhule from unknown dimensions, and stole primitive human women for their own carnal desires. The resulting progeny- beautiful, eldritch crossbreeds- were valuable as concubines, and sold as slaves across the three worlds.

Eventually, the race of the Green Monks ascended, leaving their physical husks behind, their twisted cities empty, and their slave-races bereft of civilization. Over time, the crossbred children ceased to breed true. Future generations birthed abominations- bestial ape-like forms with a single, massive horn arching from their foreheads.

Many of these horned apes survive in ruined, nameless cities throughout the southern continents of Talis.

Art by Russ Nicholson

The Well, Room 3: The True Well

If one were to remove the bar from the southern door of Room 1 and then hack down the swollen planks from their framing stone, they would find a room approximately thirty feet square, with a protrusion to the south 20 feet wide and 10 feet deep. To the left and right (east and west), five foot wide corridors proceed into gloom.

The central 20 feet of the room is a vast, circular hole with a narrow stone lip. Ascending out of the darkness are numerous white, chalky vines, here and there marred by blood-red leaves. A few lurid yellow blossoms, reminiscent of tansies, also grow from these vines, which reach all the way out of the great pit, creeping along floors, walls, and even ceiling to arch back upon themselves at the southern end of the room. The whole of the "plant" glows dully with a faint white lumiscence. The frame of a double door is barely visible behind a clot of white vegetation in the southern wall.

A lit torch thrown into the depths of the vegetation (or some other light source) reveals a similar landing, 15 feet below this floor, and even a second, 15 feet below that. Beneath that, though, is a vast white tuber, apparently the source of the profusion of vines. It appears to have grown or been forced from yet a third landing, 45 feet below the level currently stood on. The tuber is irregularly shaped, and seems to have a root structure which descends still further into the shaft.

The vines are edible- though wholly foul-tasting- and the blood-red leaves can be boiled down into a concoction that will, if ingested, provide a +1 bonus to saving throws versus poison for 24 hours. Partaking of any part of the flowers, however, will cause the eater to have vivid, bizarre dreams when next they sleep- dreams of strange, red towers looming from dunes of black ash, while a pale white sun hangs low in the sky. The dream ends as shadowy figures lurch toward the dreamer, changing and growing more like the dreamer in form and face as they approach.

The vines are also more than strong enough for an armored man to ascend or descend to the landings below...

The Well, Room 2: Guardhouse

From the zombie-infested entry chamber, the northern archway opens up into a twenty by twenty room.

In the room are the shattered remains of several bunks, a weapons rack, armor racks and an overturned table, though all but the table are but broken debris. The ashes and scorchmarks of a cold campfire hide behind the overturned table.

Cut into the face of the table is a crude image of a rising (or setting) sun, with two birds to either side of it. It would appear this carving is an addition made after the table was overturned.

The western wall sports a series of small alcoves, three in all, with ragged, filthy tapestries half-covering the openings. These alcoves are privies, and sport benches with openings descending at a steep angle out of sight.

What can be seen of the images on the tapestries appears to depict armored elves, fighting dog-headed humanoids. The elves appear to be losing.

The Well, Room 1: Entryway

It seems impossible, but here, at least thirty miles from the nearest town, stands a circular stone well, about eight feet wide in diameter, dressed fieldstone rising three feet out of the ground. Above this arches a stone trilithion, carved with many symbols. Astute or eldritch-trained visitors recognize a few of these as debased symbols reminiscent of the ancient elves, though the handiwork of the well is decidedly not their work.

A much weather-worn rope is lashed about the lintel stone, descending into the putrid-smelling depths. It is within arm's reach of the eastern side of the well, and the stone face seems scuffed, as though by passage of feet clambering over the low wall.

The well itself descends some fifty feet into the earth, ending and widening out into a long, shallow room, about eighty feet long by twenty feet wide. At the southern end of the room is a wooden door, age-twisted in it's frame, with a heavy wooden beam serving to hold it shut from this side. In the eastern wall, a low archway opens up on a steep set of stairs, while in the north, another archway seems to lead to a second room.

The source of the putrid smell is a group of 10 zombies, clad in rotting mustard-yellow robes and black-lacquered masks bearing the symbol of a sun upon their brows. The zombies ineffectually scratch at the barred door to the south, ignoring anyone entering the well unless they make loud noises, cast spells, or come within 10'. These actions cause the zombies to turn, attack the interloper, and then (if not destroyed) go back to their previous actions.

Propped in the southeastern corner of the room, there is the semi-decayed corpse of a small dwarf (or large halfling) clad in chain mail, warhammer still clutched in withered hand. It seems evident that the poor fellow died facing the zombies. Upon his person is a backpack and rotten pouch with 12 gold. His other gear, an assortment of "generic starting adventurer" belongings, are damaged by time and weather.

[ACKS] Deadstone- Dwarven Undead

My ACKS campaign is heavily based on Telluria/Dwimmermount, so my dwarves are born of stone and return to stone. Still, more traditional dwarves might become stony undead in certain areas or due to certain strange rituals of the Chaotic gray dwarves...

DEADSTONE
Lair: 17+ (20%)
Dungeon: Throng (3d4) / Boneyard (3d10)
Wilderness: Horde (3d10) / Boneyard (3d10)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 90' (30')
Burrow: 10' (3')
AC: 4
Hit Dice: 2*
Attacks: 1 (slam or bite)
Damage: 1d8
Save: D2
Morale: +4
TT: None
XP: 29
Deadstone are the reanimated undead remains of dwarves. Reanimation causes their corpses to revert slightly from hard stone, turning them into great clots of foul-smelling grave earth clinging lumpily to cracked stone bones.  Slow and resilient, deadstones loathe living beings on some instinctive level, and seek to destroy them, smashing with stony fists or tearing with wide, blunt teeth. Deadstones are much more resilient than human skeletons or zombies, reducing damage taken from nonmagical attacks by 1 per die. Deadstones can sense living things within 60', and will burrow through all but the hardest stone in attempts to access them directly. Like most undead, deadstones are immune to sleep, charm, and hold spells. They may be turned as ghouls.

(ACKS) Wisp

A version of the venerable will-o-wisp that fits my setting and desired power level a bit better, and adds some flavor text.

WISP
Lair: Never
Dungeon: Solitary (1)
Wilderness: Solitary (1)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: -
Fly: 180' (60')
AC:   7
Hit Dice:  4**
Attacks:  1
Damage: 2d6 energy drain
Save: F4
Morale: 0
TT: None
XP: 190

Wisps are a strange creature which may be from another world. They are dangerous, as they are sentient, cruel, and seek fleshly bodies to inhabit.They appears as small globes of intense light, in a variety of hues. They are so cold that they cause a thick fog to form around them in a 120' radius. Wisps are easily mistaken for lanterns from a distance.  When a wisp slays a humanoid creature of near-human size or less, it enters the body through the ear or nose and takes up a sort of half-life within the corpse. The dead creature is then treated as a wight while the wisp inhabits it. Outside of a humanoid host,wisps can only be struck by magical weapons. Cold damage heals wisps for the same amount of damage they would normally take.

[Lexicon] LEXICON: ADVENTURE IN A BROKEN WORLD OF INTRIGUE AND INTOLERANCE

The following is the intro blurb I used for my larp, Lexicon. If all goes well, I will put this together as an ACKS campaign setting over the course of time, with most of it's modifications and house rules appearing in this blog.

LEXICON

Once, long ago, the legends tell us that the world was a rigid place, and paths never wandered. There were things called "seas", and "continents", and nations had borders which could be easily measured. In those dawn times, the inhuman folk of Stygia, the First City, were magicians, artificers, and warriors without peer. They grew wise in the ways of civilization, and spread across the globe with spell and sword, until soon the world was united in Empire.

Through their sorcerous arts, the Stygians learned the words of power which the First God had used in his forgings of all things: The Lexicon. With their flawed understanding, driven by whispers in their dreams, they sought to use the words as they willed, and wonders and horrors alike were loosed by their sorcerer-tyrants. In the end, their hubris grew to be as peerless as their art, and they sought to enslave the First God to their will. Finally, the First God saw the sorcerers for what they had become, and those who were yet loyal to their world and creator went to war with the prideful people of the obsidian towers of the City.

In their battles, the First God was slain, and his essence shattered. His death caused a Breaking, a mournful sundering of the world which forever destroyed maps and easy travel, as the world collapsed along its bindings into "Shards"- places of power. These fell away from each other as the bonds of magic which had kept them locked became loose and winding. The Maker's death also allowed the ancient enemy, the Nightmare, to be finally able to creep into the world.

An entity without form, possessed of a malevolent intellect beyond the ken of mortals, the Nightmare was all the consumption and chaos the Maker had kept from his fledgling world. Limited before to mere whispers in the dreams of the sorcerers, the Nightmare was now free to bring its full power into Creation. Wild magic, undead, and monsters never before dreamed of soon plagued the world. Whole shards were destroyed or corrupted, and it seemed the world would soon perish. Finally, new gods rose from mortalkind to hold back the tide of darkness, and re-establish order and prosperity.

The gods taught the art of Geomancy to the races, anew way of traveling between the broken lands. They also taught a "safe' form of magic, Wizardry, which used a lesser version of the Lexicon. The old spells, sigils, and creatures of the Stygians were hidden away behind trapped tombs and forgotten ley lines, and the new gods swore to never allow mortals to gain the powers of the old sorcerers. From the center of the new Worldweb rose a godly city, called Tykoria after its founder. Future kings (and later, emperors) of Tykoria expanded from these roots, and the world was again to come under the rule of a single nation, the Second Empire.

Alas, not even the gods are all-knowing, for the Nightmare had found a way into the very center of the Weave, and once again an Emperor heard the whispers in his dreams and fell sway to dark promises. Tykoria became a place of tyranny and injustice, a new Stygia. Desperation drove the good folk who were left to revolt, and bloody battle again enveloped the earth. The forces of light prevailed again, but the cost was great. The world was diminished yet again, and many things once again were re-ordered or lost.

Four hundred dark years have passed, and new nations have risen from the ashes. The greatest of these nations is Galicia, forged of six countries two hundred years ago. However, two decades of civil war, crusade, and misrule have resulted in an unstable, fractured realm. Galicia is now rife with intrigue and mistrust, and many of her shards have broken away through civil war to form her greatest enemy, Trencian.

It is a time for heroes, a time for bravery and exploration. Ruined cities and broken tombs, arcane secrets and forgotten truths await those who would seek them. The Nightmare's power lurks just in the next shard... or riding in the head of someone you know and trust. The gods yet walk the earth, bloodied but unbroken.

Would you take up the call of the hero? A bold scholar, Thane Tergard Loren, seeks adventurers and settlers to inhabit and explore the environs of a fallen Tykorian outpost, Swampgate. Riches and rewards are promised, as well as lands and prestige. It is a time for new legends to be told.