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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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What's is your most evil experimental creation /tg/?

I created a Dwarven Boogeyman that became my familiar and then a elderitch abomination that I couldn't control.
My friend's obsession with radio collecting is a monster I have created
Thread's going slow, better post the story then.

Well, it started off as a simple joke to put down our party's dwarf down a notch, we had two scrolls of wishing, (DM gave us two in the whole campaign and said one was really all we needed) But anyway, the little shit broke one of my valued items then sold it off, so I decided to get back at him by wasting one of his items, which was the scroll

So here's what I did- I Wished to create a Creature that would eat and assimilate all of his hair into his being and set it upon him in his sleep to teach him a lesson.

You see, he was called Dreyon the redbeard, and so when he came to in the morn, he found the creature currently eating the last of his hair off of his beard you can guess this devastating act of revenge would ruin him.

With a few diplomacy and persuasion checks later I managed to calm him down from cleaving me and in two with his battleaxe, (Though he had tried his luck with my creature but held back because he didn't want to damage his beautiful hair) but he was so infuriated by he insisted on wearing a fake beard until his own grew back.

But the story doesn't end here, oh no.
Now then, when I created this creature, I initially was going to make it disposable for the joke it was, but considering
my god, it got to him

Or the Dwarf finally cleaved him.

In some settings, a beard-less dwarf is the sign of a lunatic fucking dwarf. To them it's like loosing your balls, but on display.

Imagine every iota of manliness being stripped from you. Left as a pudgey, tiny dicked, muscless, spineless, chinless, uglu creature that just screams beta.
Ah crap,

Now then, when I created this creature, I initially was going to make it disposable for the joke it was, but considering It was a scroll of wishing I was using, I'd rather try to make it last, so I decided to throw in a few excess item's to make it worthwhile for future ventures and to make more of a reason for Dreyon not to kill me when he woke up from his slumber.

In my inventory was a Beholder's eye and teeth for it's eye and mouth (Recent little quest we did in a swamp got us that) a Duergar's heart to fuel it's hate for regular Dwarves and four skeleton knuckles, and to fasten this little odd construct, spare parts of dravern repair equipment that was in Dreyon's inventory when I stole the scroll

So I made it so that two of the knuckles would be placed on each end of the mouth and two around the top and bottom of the eye, and the heart was strung together with some thread, and strands of my own hair which I placed around the heart, and fore eyelids I had some green transparent slime, which I guessed would work for that part of the creature, which additionally made it more creepy because even when it blinked It could still see

So anyhow, once I used the scroll and set it on Dreyon his hair made up most of this frame, covering it's organs mostly, and for the most part it looked like a hairy beholder with mandible pincers around it's mouth and eyes.

These mandibles had a use for magic and spellcasting later it turned out.


please respond
So anyhow, once our party left, on it's way to kill a Lich Giant with my Dwarvern revenge exacted, I decided to take my strange new furry lifeform with me, and every now and then would feed it the hair of fallen creatures we beat on the battlefield to help it fuse with them to cover up it's crude frame further and it became something of a pet to me.

Dreyon was displeased at my fraternizing with his wasted wish creature and so he once tried to steal him from me as I slept

Only for the DM to dictate it latching to his face and stealing all of his newly grown hair again in less than 2 turns, the next three turns taking it's time suffocating him in the combined smelly musk of the multiple strands of hair that made up my hair creature beholder thing, though I did wake up to find Dreyon passed out and my creature actually walking about using the hair to perform a tentacle like step-slide type of movement.

Suffice to say, it appeared he'd become mobile and finally useful to the party and my nurturing paid off.

I got the chance to throw him at enemies to blind and possibly deafen as he proceeded to suffocate them and eat their hair, the party loved it.
There was one time I tied a few skeletons together, and it sort of ballooned from there until I took over a small kingdom by accident.
At this point, we named it Grugrahol, on account of it's love for facial hair imbued with the musk of alcohol partial to his first meal of Dwarven hair and I loved it as my own, and kept him pocketed in my bag of holding.

When danger came our way, he'd be our ace in the hole, as noone see's a facial hair eating monster being thrown into their face, and it simply got better and better there on out.

Oh right, I forgot to mention this, but the DM decided he didn't want Grugrahol becoming too OP with the consumption of large creature hair, so he made it so that his consumption was limited to it's level cap, and at my suggestion that for the hair to actually be fully integrated it had to connect with the seams I threaded into it at birth, the ones present at it's heart, and with this, we had come form of balance.

Now, at this point you couldn't really see Grugrahols frame as it knotted most of it's main seams to form some decent natural Armour so it was mostly brown in the middle and as it spaced out the hair that made it up was various wild, and almost rainbow like This will intertwine with his use of magic later hair strands that rippled and vibrated when in combat against foes, and it became harder to throw him with success to do his size, and eventually I could no longer carry him in that bag of holding he called home.
If possibly catastrophic and unimaginably dangerous counts, my Explorator just created a weapon out of Egarian Geodes, and is growing them in his wardrobe. Or whatever equivalent to a wardrobe a tech-priest has.
He would often push his hairs out to stand up high like us, like an eyeball on a stalk to stay out of mud and the like that would mess up his hair (This sometimes caused penalties to his efficiency in combat, gotta groom bro.) and it was noted that he could change forms based on his base hair count (Hair connected to his heart) and the excess hair count (Hair that was going integration or acts as disposable hair based on what he's killed recently this hair also has a timeout where it would fall out, so it was ammo and such) and different hair

As a reminder his eyelids were slime, so he had the most chance to spot incoming enemies when we camped as he acted like a good watching hair eyeball thing with spiky teeth and bone mandibles so he could keep his eye moist but sense intense movement which would wake him up to alert us (Most would mistake him for a lamp or weird mounted creature as a warning ho ho!)

He had also grown the point where when he could also restrain arm movement when latched on to something, making him ideal for opponents we had trouble with, this coupled greatly with spells like grease, web and such, but we made sure not to use him for enemies which could burn him because as we learnt, and assumed, fire instilled permanent penalties on him which only consumption in another battle could solve.

So anyhow, onto his acquirement of magical prowess.

In the frozen mountains of the middle of buttfuck nowhere amidst a reanimated army of giants, Dwarves orgres and other nasties, as well as the remainder of the mountain's remaining living inhabitants we made it to the Great Slodd's frozen fortress castle thing of doom.

Slodd, was in the employ of Draineil as we found out, a mad wizard out to complete that of a ritual referred to as the halted ascension of Tomias Aldreytia an amazing hero in his time, gifted with the mantle of a god.

For reasons unknown, Tomias apparently went mad during the process of mantling his new position in the heavens, and the priests whom oversaw the ritual forsaw this and froze him in time, stopping him from becoming a god and most likely bringing ruin to the planes in his wake henceforth, at the cost of their lives however, prior to dying used the present magics to time travel to places to hide the divine components that made the ritual up (Couldn't destroy them as it would be blasphemy on their part) and Draineil, a descendant of Tomias sought to end this, because he came from a household of ruin and strife that lived off Tomias's name unto ruin, once the truth of the ascension came to light.
In spite of this, Draineil sought vengeance upon Tomias for his life of misfortune, and buried himself in the study of the arcane and his family history until he found that the one of the priests bloodlines was still around, the secret leading to the ritual engraved upon their souls, and had employeed Slodd to help decipher this by capturing the descendant, a girl from Neverwinter.

Slodd's reasons for alliance were that of getting a right hand man position with Drainel once he became a god to entrust his Phylectery to to ensure 100% fucking immortality safety so he could go about doing what giant liches do and because Draineil as the only member of Tomiases bloodline left alive (he saw to that end) he could be the only one to rob the mantle.

Anyhow, we get to Slodd, and after a grueling session of looking everywhere in his fortress for his phylactery, with only the words of a Wyrm stating "He keeps it where he keeps his waning honor." we pretty much have no idea where the thing is, not to mention the fact that the DM tricked us into wasting potions we thought would help us find it.

"Waning honor".

I have a guess, but I'm gonna let you tell it op. Can't wait!
And worst of all, the big bad rotting freezing giant Drauger waltz's on in home because we took far too fucking long to find him, have exhausted most of our good spells and abilities on his minions and have only a few turns before he finds us because leaving skeletons and various undead lifeless in a persons home is a clear sign of invasion.

Anyhow, as it turns out, Slodd is only one for casting buffs and spells that generally hinder the player, because his Ascention to Lichdom was a stroke of luck based on one of his raids when he alive which Involved a very poor Necromancer that thought he was safe from the perils of the surfaces as lodd fell into his Slair when hit by a large firey projectile and promptly ate the Necromancer after a brief laughable battle and robbed all of his stuff.

And by hindrance I mean every fucking spell that envelopes a wide area, stays there, and gives you constant damage or ability score penalties if you stay in the area, move in it of just fight in it that you would spam in the Neverwinter nights game.
And to top this off Slodd wielded a massive sword which could only be described as an obsidian blade that resembled a large Butcher Knife, which based on whomever struck it, would gain the next strike based on any abilities, enchantments, and spells provided with a successful block.

In other words, you hit him with a fireball and he blocks with the sword for the purpose of using this effect, then his next strike will fire a copy of said spell with damage that accumulates to what the sword would do on average under his abilities and it's own based on the damage output of the spell that hit the sword.

Fucking complex I know.

Grugrahol wasn't of much help, and we had to keep him away from the carnage during the initial skirmish so he was unfortunately forced to watch his creator and party of Dwarf human elf and hald-elf were pounded by by the undead Ice giant.

Relevant to this thread
Now, at this point we decided this was one of those times we needed our little alcohol hairball, but the fact was that we were covered in cloudkill, Tendrils, wall of fire, grease and web and mind fog as I had to keep buffing my guys so that the gassy flaming sea of death didn't get to me or them, but if we sent Grugrahol in, he be fucked by this as this is the exact kind of thing that would kill him outright, and so, I tell him to run, much to my parties dismay.

Now then, our DM is a fucking bro who keeps track of important details we often do not, which gives us a reason to expect consequences for actions and flowing functionality for creatures (I.E every Lich we beat is listed, and every one does have a phylectery, we don't just blow it up and call it a day, else a roll is done to see if they come back to bite us in the ass later)

So far he's been keeping notice of Grugrahol's wonderful applications of hair in terms of form and movement and noted at one time Grugrahol stretched himself out, meaning if he applied himself over long distances by doing this he could scale them in short periods of time.

So anyhow, realized we fucked it, I tell Grugrahol to run, poor thing.
Now then, being undead and the ability to sense the living is one thing alone for Sladd, but it meant that Grugrahol technically posed no threat to him, because Grugrahol wasn't large enough to encantipate him or his body, Sladd did not breathe so Grugrahol could not suffocate him, and if blinded Sladd could still see our positive energy and keep slashing away.

Grugrahol is a medium sized brown in the middle, slime for eyes extravagantly colored, smelly hair Beholder bone eye pincer thing that loves us very much.

He wasn't running.

Instead, he extended his body to climb up the damaged ceiling in less than a few turns which my DM did note was possible, and did his usual thing Grugrahol does.

Now, as I stated above, Sladd has every reasons to not give a shit about Grugrahol, but instead he start's violently trying to shake Grugrahol off, screaming like mad, and we have no idea why an undead giant would, it isn't much of a matter why.

Anyhow, Grugrahol started off at the remainder of Sladd's hair on his rotting headd, and suffice to say, ended up being cursed because undead taint isn't easy to digest.

Sladd tries of course to pull him off, and when that doesn't work, hit himself causing some well done damage, to him and my pet, now at this point the party makes it out of Sladd' spacial area of imminent gaseous doom and we assist Grugrahol as much as we can, keeping him from dying, but suffice to say, Sladd was making progress, as sometimes in order to doge, Grugrahol had to shed some of it's boy to remain attached, at the cost of lowering it's abilities and such to replace with terrible tainted hairs of undeath.

At this point, Sladd was cursing like a motherfucker, he had completely lost his cold imposing composure from before, and everyone knows the only case where a Lich will worry is when A Lich is close to death once more.

Now then, at this point we were baffled at this, Sladd had only hit himself three times in attempt to get Grugrahol off, and he wasn't even near to death, so how the hell was he having such an effect on him?

This was answered to us when Grugrahol made it to Sladd's Frozen beard, when he took 3d6pts of negative energy damage, and we knew Sladd made no casting signs so something was given away.

Then it hits us.

"He keeps it where he keeps his waning honor."

Sladd was an undead Ice giant that still had the remainder of his beard intact waning from his rotting face, fashioned accordingly and kept well.

We do a roll to spot

There, braided into it, a purple gleam,

Sladd's phylactery was in his beard.

The gods were smiling on us this day.
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Well, we thought the gods were, turns out poor enduring Grugrahol was nearly dead, well, not really, but based on how much it's abilities were lowered by the constant consumption of tainted hair an the shedding of most of it's body to avoid strikes from that FUCKING KNIFE a next hit could be fatal.

So, we all decided to leave it to chance, and rolled to see if Grugrahol could apply enough pressure around the rotting flesh of Sladd's face and neck to pull his beard clean off.




In a simplistic movement, and spray of coagulated dead juices, The flesh of Sladd's face was ripped off clean, beard with it, leaving his nice clean falling muscle and jawline exposed, with Grugrahol falling to the ground.

Unfortunately, due to the weakness of my poor pet's frame, one of the repair items used to build it broke inside, basically equating to a fracture.

Now, all of us are ecstatic, we found this cunt's phylactery, our pet has it, and Sladd is briefly collecting his thoughts on a situation so we have the opportunity to end it.

Then the DM reminds us Sladd still isn't anywhere near dead, and any hit will cleave us dead, no matter who it hits (Wasted all our healing potions on keeping Grugrahol alive whilst he was on the giants face) we are in trouble.

At this point, despair overtakes us all, but I discover something groundbreaking about Grugrahol that would change him forever later on, for the worse.
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Now then, we've got a Liches phylactery, but it's going to take us a few turns to destroy it, which gets us killed in the meantime, so were in deep shit.

So anyway, I state that Grugrahol was made using a scroll of wishing which was correct as far as origin goes, and that during his creation which the DM kept record of, I explicitly stated Grugrahol could only ever eat hair

A scroll of wishing is a reality bending OP as a fuck item that does all kinds of cool shit based on what wishes for, and I wished for a hair eating monster that only ever ate hair.

I remind everyone that the first hair Grugrahol consumed was Dreyons, which they all agreed on.

Dreyon, could you please bring up your character sheet and read out your character description?

And so he does.

And in his description, right there clear as crystal is "His long red beard splits off into two, braided by metal bands."

"DM what happened to those bands when Grughahol ate Dreyond's beard?"

>DM's face when as someone who notes details down he has to let what I've discovered come to pass, less he come off as a dick

DM: "He...ate them, but he can't do that because he can only eats hair so he-"

>DM pauses, pulling a grimace because the nature of Grugrahol is that of a scroll of wishing, meaning reality bending is completely plausible in it's being

Turned it into hair to- eat...


"As a reminder DM, I never ever fed him anything other than hair, did I?"

"No, you didn't."
"So, what happens to the phylactery DM?"

>DM ponders for a minute, bringing the implications of the processes involved if what is to transpire is to transpire

What proceeded is by far in my description one of the worst ways a Lich can snuff it, let alone a Ice Giant one.

Grugrahol was left to his own devices to consume Sladd's beard, and Sladd, realizing time was of the esscense swung his ass rape giant knife down to our beloved freaky pet.

He missed and dropped his sword, planting it into the ground

His hands had flattened, looking flimsier than paper, and then we saw what was happening

Grugrahol was bending the entire phylactery, stretching it out, and warping the very conceptual reality of the object for conversion into strands of hair, slowly ripping it apart as it was entwined with Sladd's soul within, and we could see it's effects on the Ice giant as he screamed and screamed in sheer agony.

My pet was essentially warping the very essence of a soul to the form of it's food, and devouring it, incorporating it into his being, and as we could see, it's owner was basically going through what can be described as watching food being eaten by the invisible man and when the phylactery and the soul within was consumed, Sladd met his end as he turned to dust, not that it was easy to see considering his entire being was just stretched into thread putty then simple ice glitterdust like thread.

We were silent as a the DM described this to us.
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So yeah.

After sensing the death of Slodd, Draineil does the usual BBEG thing of showing up in a projection to taunt us and the like, but with today's twist we are exhausted, and pretty much pass out, me staying only away to hold up my furry Beholderlike pet to say this is the slayer if your Lich tyrant of ice.

He thought we were joking and left promptly.

Anyhow, after rescuing the descendant (Stopping Tomias ritual hijack remember) we do some odd jobs to get Grugrahol up to standard again (Butfucked with curses, penalties and the like) we find out he can now use magic, but mainly stuff on par with the eyeball familiar from NWN.

However he also had color spray, and coupled with how colorful he was, and the control he had over his body Grugrahol had a chance of applying the effects of the spell via melee when he did his thing.

Anyhow, that's It for now, I'll continue later if the thread is still alive, but till then, speak of your own WHAT HAS MAGIC DONE creations and such.

I think this thread deserves to live. Continue OP.
OP, if this thread dies, make a new one to continue your story.
She hunted down rogue mages and performed experiments on them to remove their arcane spark. Progress was slow. There weren't many renegade mages after this practise started. Eventually she managed to do some arcane chirurgy shit which spliced out the spark.

So she transplanted it into a clockwork automaton. The first thing it did when it was activated was start screaming. So she did the obvious thing and turned the volume down to zero.

In retrospect, she probably became lawful evil far earlier than I realised.
Nothing too fancy, its just a top of the line piston powered kinetic tank engine capable of hauling 180 tonnes of hardened steel.
powered by the soul of a forsaken orphan child.
Dwarven Bard-Assassin

Sneaks up to his victims, then proceeds to fiddle them to death.

It wasn't my divine-resistant superplague that was my greatest creation. That just took time, and research, and subjects. It was the resistant carriers I indoctrinated, and sent to the great cities to sing the praises of my Lady, Talona.
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I remember playing an M&M game based on Fate/Zero, and I ended up playing one of the servants. Specifically, Archimedes as Caster.

Now, I didn't want to go for overt magic with this guy. He's a builder, a planner. So because of this, I spammed the device power for a secret project, and set it up so I could summon small clockwork horrors to fight the other servants. Because of the optimization level of the game, I was considered the weakest Servant for quite a while.

That is, until Berserker (Never actually found out who that fucker was) came at me in my Master's home. See, I'd had time to prepare, and devices Are something I can just keep building more of. So the entire place was littered with traps - spinning blades that shot out of the walls, the constructs I'd liked to summon, bombs, and other things.

when he finally got to me though, I activated the last thing I had, and scared EVERYBODY.

See, I'd prepped a completely strength min-maxed construct under my master's house. So suddenly this colossal sized man rises out of the ground and looks balefully on berserker, before reaching down and just picking him up and throwing him.

Now, given we were in Fuyuki City, which is in the area of Tokyo, I did a few calculations. Based on the distance my construct had tossed Berserker, he'd land somewhere a little outside of Kong Kong.

That was when they stopped underestimating me.
>My pet was essentially warping the very essence of a soul to the form of it's food, and devouring it, incorporating it into his being
>Kong Kong
Fuck, I meant Hong Kong. Shame on me for story-ing while tired.
My GM gave me a Nurgle alignment point just for coming up with a weapon concept.

The basic idea is an alteration of a mining tool which grinds up rocks, slag, random rubbish and shit to shoot out as pebbles at rock faces. However, it can also take metal.
The grinder generates a hell of a lot of sand, gravel and metal dust
I'm going to get someone to reroute the exhaust to the other half of the tank, which will also take organic materials. This will be ground down into a sludge.
One of the other members of the party is a Nurglite with daemonic skin. That is, his skin is effectively a very minor daemon of Nurgle, with huge pus-filled blisters on it. He also has a scythe with three Nurglings in it, which means that the scythe drips green goo.
I'm going to get him to pop one of his blisters into the organic sludge half, and drip some of the green goo in there too.
I'm also going to get the stubber part modified to include a chemical thrower part.
I'm going to get a weapon that cracks armour with rocks, then sandblasts the flesh underneath with rotting sludge.
Where can I find similar dragons crown .gifs?

A More Complete version of The Claw of Archimedes?
>Can totally fight with it because the nips think it's a parade of an awesome tech show or gundam conventions

>Win war

>Buy out every fucking tech firm ever with money made from inventions, even Germany get's put to shame

>Humanity enter the Deus Ex age, and this ties in with the future thing with the aristostles arriving to fuck shit up, only for anthro modded humanity to ass-fuck them sideways

Your character is suited as fuck for plausible canon, kudos.

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