Gods of Caan: The Bladed Huntress

Anath - the Bladed Huntress, Mistress of the Quest

Themes and Domain

Anath is a war goddess - the lady of the hunt, and a protector of the young. Her clergy and paladins are mixed among their ranks: while not overwhelmingly female, bearing a much greater proportion of the feminine persuasion than among the other Caanish gods.

War Love and Loyalty Hunting and Searching Adventure and Exploration

Sister to Astarte, the Soldier-Mother Foe and Slayer to Mot, the Snapping Turtle Favor to Bows and Blades Embodied by Lions and Flowers

Sacraments and Taboos

Along the Ash Coast and all along of Caan, the gods require sacraments and sacrifice in order to earn their favor - Anath is no different! Behaviors and prescribed (and proscribed), the tenants of which must be obeyed, or the goddess will not grant her favor. For this purpose:

• A Sacrament is a behavior that a Cleric of Anath must perform - rites, rituals, or lifestyles.
• Conversely, a Taboo is a behavior that a Cleric of Anath must never perform.
  

If a Cleric fails to keep a Sacrament or Taboo, the Cleric stunts itself on the turning table and in spell-casting ability. Thus, for a Cleric of 5th level - when in combat with a group of opponents: most leather-clad and brandishing cheap weapons, but one opponent is in metal armor, giving orders to the others: showing signs of leadership: if the Cleric does not challenge the apparent sergeant, she will have failed in the 4th level Sacrament: thus, until the opportunity to atone presents itself, will cast spells and turn undead as though she was level 2. Hit dice, to-hit, and other factors are not affected.

Level	Sacrament	Taboo
1	Tithe, 6%; prayers at noon	Charity may be given; but not received
2	Ritual bath - each solstice and equinox - the most important of which, the solstice in the winter	Heavy armor may not be worn
4	Seek single combat with enemy champions and leaders	Procreation - no children of your own
6	Protect (and spare) children	May not wash while on campaign
7	Eat only what you kill or forage	Retreat - return with your shield or on it!

The sacred number of Anath is 6. 

Her constellation is The Stag.

Blessings of Anath

All Clerics of Anath are permitted to use swords, bows, knives, and similar weapons: purpose built for the hunt or for battle. 

Clerics of Anath do not use axes, scythes, spears, or other "conscript weapons" - though they may continue to use blunt weapons, as normal.

In addition, Clerics of Anath which adhere to the Sacraments and Taboos of Anath listed above gain additional blessings based on experience level - the effects of which are described below:

Level	Blessing
1	Mark of the Huntress If using a Bow - not a Crossbow - the Cleric benefits from +1 to the attack roll.
2	Long Stride If wearing no armor or Light armor - the Cleric increases its movement speed by 3" (or 30').
4	Lion Shape Once every 6 days, the Cleric may shift form into that of a lion. The effect lasts up to 6 turns. When in this form, the Cleric may not cast spells nor communicate normally, but fights as a beast of equivalent HD to its level.
6	Blessing of Blades When fighting with two hands on a sword, the sword qualifies as Magic, +0. At level 12, this increases to Magic, +1. At level 18, this increases to Magic, +2.
7	Skin of Bronze All physical attacks made against the Cleric suffer a -2 penalty.

Miracles of Anath

In addition to the normal spells available to a Cleric, Anath is willing to grant additional miracles outside the normal purview of the divine domain. Any Cleric of Anath capable of casting a spell of the provided level may take one of the following spells as though it was part of the Cleric list.

Level	Miracle
1	Shield of Anath Missile attacks made against the Cleric must, for the duration of the spell, roll 3d6 in lieu of 2d6 on their to-hit roll, keeping the low result. If using the Alternative Combat System, roll attacks at disadvantage. Duration: 5 rounds / Cleric level
2	Animal Friend If a target animal (note, not a magical beast) fails a saving throw, the animal thereafter considers the Cleric to be its friend. The animal may be taught tricks - 1 for every 4 points of the Cleric's Intelligence - requiring 1 week of training each. If the animal is left alone for 3 days or more, it returns to nature - the effect ending. A maximum number of HD may be affected at one time equal to half that of the Cleric.
3	Great Strength The Strength score of the spell's target is increased by 1d6 (or, if a servant of Order and Law, 1d8). Duration: 1 hour / Cleric level
4	Hold Animal As Hold Person, except it may target animals and magical beasts.
5	Speak with Monsters For 1 turn, the Cleric may communicate clearly and flawlessly with any monster capable of communication.
6	Resurrect As Raise Dead, but the duration of time for how long the target may have been dead is measured in years rather than days. May be reversed - in which case the target is destroyed and turns to dust. After casting the spell, the Cleric must meditate for six days (twelve days, if the spell was reversed) in order to return to a state of connection to the material world. Prior to this meditation, the Cleric may not engage in any strenuous activity.

 

Open license or public domain artwork retrieved from Pixabay and OldBookIllustrations.com and adapted for use. Attribution in alt text.

Enter the Scorpion

They say, deep in the wastes - among the rocks and sand, where no man may dwell - in the places where water is in scarcity and the sun, abundance: there can be found the hardiest of the half-races. In those places, the Girtablilu have made their lairs.

They say - far from the places where men dwell, where the wells flow over terraces and where the barley grows - at the ends of roads mortal feet wear out before reaching: there, the gods set their homes, made their palaces, kept their keeps: and along the way, set these Aqrabuamelu to hinder the way.

They say, in these places of dying, in the corners of the wilds, where the sons of angels once walked, but whose sandals have turned to dust - the generations and generations of their abandoned guardians, their orphan soldiers, hatched from hidden clutches buried beneath the rock and clay, swarm in their thousands.

Or, so they say.

Waykeepers of the First Gods

Scorpion Men are - as their name indicates - a fusion of man and giant scorpion. They have the upper body of a man mounted atop the body and tail of a desert scorpion. They speak a language derivative of the Wild, despite the origin of their species being steeped in Chaotic sorcery. 

Encountering Scorpion Men

Scorpion Warrior
Armor Class:	6	No. Appearing:	2-20
Hit Dice:	3+3	Save As:	Fighter 3
Move:	150' (50')	Morale:	8
Attacks:	1 Weapon and 1 Stinger	Treasure Type:	A
Damage:	As Weapon +1 1 + Poison	Alignment:	Neutral
Frequency:	Uncommon	Chance In Lair:	5%

When In Lair When encountered in lair, the No. Encountered represent warrior males; a second roll should be made for females – which are likewise capable, but not necessarily armed, in that they may not be expecting combat. There is a 2-in-6 chance they will be guarding eggs: in which case their Morale increases to 11.

Poison Stinger A character which is injured by the Stinger attack of any Scorpion Man must Save vs Death or perish. The effect takes between 1 and 4 turns; but if a second dose is administered (that is, a second sting occurs and a second save is failed, the time remaining is reduced to 1 to 4 rounds.

On the Organization and Tack of Scorpion Men 

• 3-in-6 Scorpion Men - warriors, the rank-and-file - carry a morning star, shield, and crossbow. With shield equipped, their AC improves to 5.
• 2-in-6 Scorpion Men -  lancers, the cavalry among the chimeric - carry composite longbows and spears, with which they are wont to charge: benefiting as using a lance.
• 1-in-6 Scorpion Men - mutants, regressions - are hatched with the claws of a scorpion rather than the hands of a man: often with projecting antenna and occasionally mandibles in addition to their jaws. These creatures are sentient, albeit not as clever as their kindred - their intelligence corrupted by their instincts - but they benefit from two natural pincer attacks which do 1d6+1 damage each, which they use in lieu of a weapon and in addition to their normal Stinger attack.
  

Split Fire All Scorpion Men may - if equipped with ranged weapons - split fire: that is, move a portion of their movement, fire a ranged weapon, and then move the remainder of their movement afterwards, but still within the Missile phase.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Scorpion Men in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Scorpion Men and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

The Scorpion Men are free peoples, with tribal affiliations determining the nature of their governance. However, they have a kinship with one another - a bond brought on by their shared origin. Scorpion Men are not a Vice Race: they bear no seed of Chaos - but they were mutated, chimerized by the ancient gods of Chaos to wage war on other celestial beings - the lords of Law and the natural world, alike.

In the ages that followed, they have been employed by various powers as guardians - some say that they guard the gates that hold the sun in the evening - in part due to their territorial nature and in part due to their rugged survivability. They are fiercely loyal to their own - but they are not intractable: with a good reaction and proper communication, they are apt to make powerful allies to any who have curried their favor. They are territorial with one another - although it is rare to find unrelated tribes in proximity to one another: and often, the borders are drawn and observed amicably.

They have some suspicion of the gods and of Clerics. In the modern age, as mentioned, they are free - but the elders tell tales to the hatchlings of days wherein the gods enslaved them, ensorcelled them, sent them to battle for purposes alien to the Scorpion folk. The truth of it - many serve these powers unintentionally due to their penchant to protect their territory: having been placed there to block the movement of other races into a place beyond of which the Scorpion Men have no knowledge - others reside in forgotten places: the purpose of their seeded colony having been lost as the cosmic struggle moved on.

Public domain and open license artwork retrieved from OldBookIllustrations.com, from Pixabay, and from The Public Domain Review and adapted for thematic use. Attribution in alt text.

The Heqet

Flies and bugs and fish come up,
but the toad, it floats and haws.

Flies and bugs and fish swim up,
but the toad, cold blood gives pause.

The mun'gu said that the stars were lining;
the mun'gu says while the spears are shining;
and Zuzu calls.

Flies and bugs and fish draw up,
while the toad sharpens his claws.

- Excerpt from the Third Song of the Sunken Choir

Slimy Skin and Brumal Blood

The Heqet are small – four feet high on average – but heavy, possessing cords of sinuous muscle to rival the strength of a man half again their stature. They take the visage of frog-like creatures, their legs and arms spindly – no neck – belying considerable strength. They are cold blooded, and thus move little, but breed rapidly, as true frogs. They can croak, but are often quiet, and take advantage of their aquatic propensities whenever able. 

The Heqet speak their own language - incorporating clicks and croaks of various tones that are difficult for Humans or Demihumans to imitate.

Encountering the Heqet

Socially, the Heqet congregate in four categorical types: the nature of these types - and the four ways in which the Heqet can be encountered - determines the number appearing:

Enc. Type	Chance	Scouts	Breeders	Mundunugu	Toadlings
In Lair	20%*	3d6 x 10	3d6	2d4	2d4 x 5
Patrol	3-in-6	3d10	1d4-1	~	2d6
Pilgrimage	2-in-6	2d10	1d4-1	1d4+1	2d4
War Party	1-in-6	3d6 x 5	1d4	2d4	2d10-2

Lair chance is 20% for the Heqet - probabilities given for different encounter types are used when the encounter occurs outside the lair of the Heqet.

Amphibious: All Heqet can breathe underwater in fresh or brackish environments. Additionally, all Heqet have a swim speed of 120' (40').

Scouts

Heqet Scouts
Armor Class:	7 (6 with Shield)	No. Appearing:	Special
Hit Dice:	1	Save As:	Fighter 1
Move:	60' (20')	Morale:	7
Attacks:	1 Weapon	Treasure Type:	K
Damage:	1d6	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Uncommon	Chance In Lair:	20%

Heqet scouts make up the bulk of Heqet colonies – roughly 2/3 of the population. They are four feet in height, rubbery skinned, and wear armor made of intertwined leather and cork wood plating. They tend to carry shield and spear.

Leap: Scouts may – in lieu of moving – leap: covering 30’ of ground immediately. If using this ability to charge into combat, the Scout gains a +2 bonus to attacks in that round only. 

Breeders

Heqet Breeders
Armor Class:	6	No. Appearing:	Special
Hit Dice:	2	Save As:	Fighter 2
Move:	60' (20')	Morale:	9
Attacks:	1 Slam	Treasure Type:	J
Damage:	1d4	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	20%

Heqet Breeders are a subset of females bearing eggs. Though not in cold weather – Breeders will broaden in span, taking up almost twice the width as typical, and release eggs which then implant into the skin in an irregular pattern. Tadpoles develop in pockets along the skin for 1d4 months and are birthed from said pockets as fully-formed as Toadlings. Thereafter, the breeder sheds her skin and, a month later, is able to renew the process. There is little attachment to young among the Heqet – Breeders are not protected, as such, over other warriors, but their mobility is impaired by the process.

Leap: Breeders may – in lieu of moving – leap: covering 20’ of ground immediately. If using this ability to charge into combat, the Heqet gains a +2 bonus to attacks in that round only. 

Breeders tend to be unarmed – but may take up arms if available when under threat. Similarly, Breeders do not wear armor – they don’t fit in it – but the thickness and roughness of skin during the breeding cycle provides medium armor (Armor Class 6) equivalence.

Mundunugu

Heqet Mundunugu
Armor Class:	9	No. Appearing:	Special
Hit Dice:	2	Save As:	Elf 1
Move:	60' (20')	Morale:	9
Attacks:	1 Staff	Treasure Type:	ind (lair)
Damage:	1d4	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	20%

Mundunugu are the spirit leaders of the Heqet. They are sworn to Chaos and bound to the dark power Zuzu, adorning themselves in his chimeric likeness. No to Mundunugu look quite the same in their spirit garb. Mundunugu are magic users: commonly employing Curse and Hold style magic. They may cast spells under water.

Leap: Mundunugu may – in lieu of moving – leap: covering 30’ of ground immediately. If using this ability to charge into combat, the Heqet gains a +2 bonus to attacks in that round only.

Of Mundunugu garb – 2-in-6 Mundunugu have garb and adornment sufficient to qualify as light armor, which increases their Armor Class to 7.

Toadlings

Heqet Toadlings
Armor Class:	9	No. Appearing:	Special
Hit Dice:	1-1	Save As:	Normal Man
Move:	90' (30')	Morale:	6
Attacks:	1 Slam	Treasure Type:	Nil
Damage:	1	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Uncommon	Chance In Lair:	20%

Toadlings are the wandering young of the Heqet. Toadlings mature quickly – evolving into their next state after only a few months – but during the first portion of their lives, they have the facilities of toddlers.

Leap: Toadlings may – in lieu of moving – leap: covering 15’ of ground immediately. There is no benefit on a charge for a Toadling.

Toadlings tend to be unarmed – but have been known to throw rocks: which qualify as Sling (-2 to hit) where all targets are treated as being one range increment further than they are.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run Heqet in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Heqet and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

The Heqet are a vice race - their Chaos Seed being granted and imbued by the sin of Sloth. The entropic entity associated with Sloth is Zuzu - the Storm Lord and the Bringer of Famine - whose locusts consume what they did not grow and who disappear, sleeping for years at a time until such opportunity arises to feast on the labor of others again. As to how the Heqet came into being, this is a curiosity regarding the other entity - the Rabisu - whose spirited undeath is fueled by the emanations of Zuzu as well.

The Rabisu are vampiric in nature - they lurk in the darkness, pained by daylight, and feed on the life essence of the naturally living: parasites - some seen as cursed for it; others wildly blessed - who are granted presence, eternal, at the cost of others around them. Thralls held by the Rabisu tend to be, themselves, cattle - their warm blood feeding their lords.

Among the Rabisu are many powerful lords - but the most powerful among them, in argument with Zuzu, with whom he saw himself co-equal, was cursed. Zuzu sunk the lands around the vampire king's domain, filled the fallow fields with swamp and salt - precluding him from walking his own estate, salt and water being the fundamental elements of birth and of natural life. And from those bogs, so also were the vampire king's thralls cursed - their blood made cold, their skin made rubber - that the vampire king might be reminded that the life that flowed through him was not his own and again, condemning him: dooming him to rely on the machinations of these slow, indolent minions and the capricious Zuzlings (the personal impish messengers of Zuzu, himself) for basic sustenance.

Though very few know the story to this day - Heqet, thus, were almost at first a cruel joke: a punishment for the hubris of lesser evils. Regardless, the Heqet find themselves in the service of Rabisu frequently, if only for their entropic association - as they make good servants. They can count on their masters not feeding on them, remaining themselves at full strength and at times, their captains and chiefs might even assert to be co-equal to the vampire lord they serve! And they can easily go where the Rabisu cannot - into the waters that birthed the world.

Likewise to this day, the Heqet are highly distasteful to the Rabisu.  In a literal sense, of course.
Public domain or open license artwork retrieved from OldBookIllustrations.com and Pixabay and adapted for thematic use. Attributions in alt text.

The Sulak: Lurkers in the Dark

"Hanging these things is so much harder these days," she says, retrieving a bronze clasp from the two dozen in her bowl. She reaches upwards to pin the strip up to smoke.

"You are carrying more these days. The little one isn't getting any smaller!" He stuffs another bundle of straw into the kiln; having left his torc on the flat, sparing it his sweat. A child coos softly in a sling, softly sleeping, rocking suspended from over her shoulder. She retrieves another one of her sixteen bronze clasps.

"He is; he needs to get tall enough to hang them himself!" She stretches her back as he steps out of the smoke-hut, walking to the moist bundles, kept distant to protect the kindling. 'He will one day wear a torc like yours,' she thinks, 'Where did you leave that thing?' putting down the clasp she had been holding back among the twelve in her bowl. 'Did it fall beneath the kiln?'

Bending down, peering under the kiln...

A rat! A horned rat's head the size of her own - snapping; leaping out - sandy fur and a curved knife leading furious eyes!

The front door explodes open. Screaming.

The back door slinks. Closes.

Under the outhouse, a short - but thick - body splats into the muck; its satchel clanking, metal against metal inside. Two rat-faces in the darkness watching. "You were careless," their language - shrill and grating - yet a whisper, "You should have killed them!"

The slinking rat face snaps its teeth; snarls. Its helmet slinks to one side. 

It extends a claw. The two fat rats reach down and hoist it - and its satchel - onto a ledge. The three start into the tunnel - west. "See what you've gotten," chittering in the growing dark, "When we have gotten back in the Underway. When we are back in the Underway..."

They Make their Home in the Crags

The Sulak are small in stature - no larger than a child - but mothers use them to scare their children into being careful in new places: and many a Caanish will sleep at mooring rather than enter an unfamiliar town for fear that they might be lurking. They are thick set, with almost feline features, sandy colored fur resembling that of a rock hyrax, and knees that bend backward. They make their home in dark places - hiding in cracks and crevices - guardians of an underway hidden in the rocky badlands allowing them to sneak into and out of land-bound communities.

In dark places, in places where a man might be vulnerable - there, the Sulak wait: their eyes on his coin, their eyes on his jewelry - with prejudice, they will claw and hoard: returning to where ever it was they came from, having crippled their target and made off with more that glitters.

Encountering the Sulak

Sulak are light of foot and preternaturally quiet. They lurk in dark places, in rocky places, and in infrequent corners - avoiding direct sunlight (it makes them sleepy).

Sulak
Armor Class:	7	No. Appearing:	1-8 (8-64)
Hit Dice:	1-1	Save As:	Normal Man
Move:	90' (30')	Morale:	8
Attacks:	1 weapon	Treasure Type:	Q (C)
Damage:	1-6 or by weapon	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Common	Chance In Lair:	10%

Sulak are between 33 and 39 inches in height, tending to weigh around 40 pounds. Their fur protects them somewhat - though they rely on stealth for the majority of their safeguards. Preferred weapons tend to be ranged - crossbows, thrown weapons - but in a close fight, they are known to carry kris-styled daggers.

As a whole, the Sulak tend to be greedy - they take more than they need, they steal from those who have more and those who have less, and they hoard what they have behind traps, locks, and other deterrents. They prefer to sneak around rather than engage in a fight - but if they do, they will engage on terms as unfair to their adversaries as they are capable of arranging. After all, you can't eat your stolen tart if you're gutted in the stealing.

Backbite - the Sulak, knowing their size limitations, work diligently to avoid a fair fight. Representing this affinity, a Sulak which attacks from surprise deals double damage and, when withdrawing from a melee, may roll a Save vs Death to move at their full speed. Additionally, pads in their feet make them preternaturally quiet when the move - increasing their chance to surprise an enemy to 4-in-6.

Cave Climbers - the Sulak are expert climbers and benefit from the Thief's Climb Sheer Surfaces skill, of level according to their hit die. Additionally, they benefit from infravision out to 60 feet.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Sulak in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Sulak and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

Being called a "lurker" by the Caanish is somewhat of a mistaken understanding - in that they don't tend to lurk and wait for a human to ambush. Instead, they are most commonly encountered by accident: when they are in the middle of some other misdeed.

The natural life span of a Sulak is much shorter than that of a Human: reaching full maturity at 6 years and rarely living past 30. They reproduce in litters of 3-12 and, though they do care for their young - said young being seen as an extension, property in a sense, of the parent - the survivability is lower than other races. Sulak are untrustworthy and routinely betray one another in pursuit of personal gain. Their loyalties are based on blood - so, a sibling or offspring is closer than a cousin or clan-mate, which is in turn closer than a non-clan colleague in simple proximity or association: but at the end of the day, the individual Sulak is still number one.

The Sulak are a Vice Race - an embodiment of Greed. They are thus conniving and covetous, moderately impatient - always looking for ways to obtain more for themselves and their own. They are natural thieves and will avoid conflict, if possible, unless their odds are totally overwhelming and said conflict would serve their interests more quickly than stealth. The Chaos Seed of the Sulak was bestowed by the Rabisu - a semi-corporeal demon which feeds on the life-blood of living beings as a vampire to survive and a peer of the Akhkhazu in the celestial order, but bound to the Peccata Clamantia of Fraud, or Defrauding. They were charged with the corruption of mankind by a Lord of Chaos, Namar - who seeds plague where he steps.

A Sulak may, as a Vice Race, be redeemed - unbeknownst to the larger world, as usual. If such redeeming occurs, the Sulak - regardless of its own life-stage (youth, adulthood, decrepitude, etc.) it will return as a Human of the same age. Thus, a Sulak of an established adult age - say, 9 - will morph into a mere child.

 

Public domain artwork respectfully pilfered from OldBookIllustrations.com on or about 9/23/2020 and edited for thematic use. Attributions in alt text.

The Mushussu: Glittering Serpent Folk of Caan

Smoke fills the room.

Thin, acrid smoke - a scent reminiscent of spices imported from the far reaches - lingers, floating, refusing to dissipate. Her eyes sting at its caress - but the man with four fingers had assured her it was worth her time. So here she is... staring at a thick curtain. The guard inquires; she replies - the passphrase four-fingers had given her. He nods. The curtain is drawn back ... more smoke ... and she steels herself against the visage. She steps in.

"No need, my pet, to hold yourself so stiffly," it says - sibilant syllables dancing off its scaled lips, velvet - "Come. Be seated with me." 

The creature is nine feet long. Six feet, a lithe, cylindrical body - the thickest constrictor - ending in the face of a serpent - its eyes round, but its pupils slits: tilted the wrong way. About the head is a headdress bedecked with pearls and aquamarine. In its hands... no... its paws... a hookah: a thin stream of smoke trailing from one of seven mouthpieces protruding from hoses attached to its slowly boiling center. Three more, a tail, curled around a second mouthpiece to one side of the grand cushion on which the creature is in repose, it's clawed legs crossed: short, stubby - dwarf-like legs, almost a parody attached to the frilled serpent.

"Partake, pet," it speaks again, satin, "Surely, you will not have had such as this before."

"I prefer to speak to business," she replies.

A pause. Down feathers.

"Fair enough. You have come seeking knowledge, it seems, as to the location of Odakon's Eye - guarded by the Deepwater Convent. You nod - good, pet, I have been informed rightly. I have come across in my wanderings a parchment - most valuable - which contains a guide to the tower in which it is kept. If your courage is keen enough to take it, this parchment rests rolled in a map case behind you. Take it to the tower at least one hour after the sun has set - the knowledge contained therein will guide you: its enchantment, it will protect you - so long as you are able to leave no later than an hour before the moon has vanished. Bring the Eye to me - payment for the parchment - and you must keep anything else in the tower that you discover." 

The map case is where the creature has said it was. She should have felt it - this cushion isn't so soft as to disguise a vessel of treated leather and brass.

"Ah, pet, but the evening is still far afield, the moon still hours from awaking. Perhaps you would want to spend those hours here - your armor, it must chafe with the humidity of these parts..."

"I have things to prepare," she interrupts, "An afternoon's time is short."

The creature smiles - "A professional, pet; truly so," - caramel and butter - "I will see you upon your return. And in the meantime, though I fear I have no knowledge of where you found that parchment, your guide."

She nods. 

In the moment, she rises, departing half facing the creature, a disquieted crab-walk: keeping eye contact in either respect or suspicion - not sure which. Out of the smoke. Out through the staff corridors of the garden-tavern. Into the heat of the afternoon.

From behind a curtain on the wall, another reptilian face emerges. A crest, a frill, hangs loosely - relaxed - red, brighter than the deep hue of the curtain. Anticipation.

"Have four follow her." Brass. "Wait in the grass for her - and when she returns, kill her and bring the Eye to me."

The ridge of the eye raises - no brow to raise with it. A smile.

"She will return, if she survives. And then we will know she is worth her employ."

Serpents of Splendor

The Mushussu are a reptilian race with shimmering scales. Males and females are similar in size - taller than most humans - but slender. They have short legs not dissimilar to a bird that sprout just above a long, thick tail - appearing almost comically stunted when compared to the length of their frame. Their arms are smooth, proportional, and terminate in thick hands that look almost like cat's paws with thumbs. Along their neck and up the sides of their head is a semi-retractable crest - ribbed, almost as though formed of skin and horns - the inside of which, which faces forward, is a bright crimson color.

The avarice of the Mushussu knows no bounds. That which glitters speaks to them like it speaks to no other race - and given any opportunity, they will festoon themselves with expensive clothing and gaudy jewelry: albeit never in the wild... as they may risk spoiling them. The Caanish are untrusting of the Mushussu - not knowing whether to call them friends, foes, or even mercenaries - as they are as likely to turn for better opportunities as they are likely to honor their commitments. Their leaders - alchemists and transmuters - are more trustworthy than the rank and file, but the years of conniving that has gotten them to the station they occupy lends to experience in bargains that even the Caanish, building a society on mercantilism, are wont to display.

When there is a conspiracy, a money-laundering operation, or other sprawling illicit enterprise: it is not uncommon to find a Mushussu at or near the head of the pyramid.

Encountering the Mushussu

Mushussu are able to "retract" their lower legs - folding them behind their backs as a soldier at ease folds their arms - and move about on their bellies, like a snake. This gives them a 4-in-6 chance to surprise in tall grass - typically three feet, minimum - and increases their movement speed to 150' (50'), but while slithering like this, they suffer a -1 to hit in melee and their AC is reduced to 6, as they lose some agility. Slithering tends to be the preferred mechanism of locomotion outside of combat or social situations.

Mushussu
Armor Class:	4	No. Appearing:	2-8, (6-36)
Hit Dice:	1+1	Save As:	Elf 1
Move:	90' (30')	Morale:	8
Attacks:	1 weapon or 2 claws	Treasure Type:	U (B)
Damage:	As weapon or 1-4 / 1-4	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Common	Chance In Lair:	8%

A Mushussu of typical stature ranges from 6 to 7 feet in height, but weighs between 180 and 200 pounds: their bodies are solid and their scales are tough, but they are somewhat slender. On occasion, they are known to use shields - if so, their AC is increased accordingly. In battle, they are fond of shaking and flaring their crests as a challenge and intimidation of foes.

Preferred weapons of the Mushussu are pole arms - bladed ones like the glaive or the fauchard, especially. Many will carry slings or some throwing knives - as the benefit of range is not lost on them, but slithering is not conducive to carrying or using bow-style weapons.

For every 8 Mushussu appearing, the group will be accompanied by one Mushussu Sorcerer.

Mushussu, Sorcerer
Armor Class:	5	No. Appearing:	1-3 (2-9)
Hit Dice:	2+1	Save As:	Elf 4
Move:	90' (30')	Morale:	8
Attacks:	1 weapon or 2 claws, both -1	Treasure Type:	V (H)
Damage:	As weapon or 1-4 / 1-4	Alignment:	Neutral
Frequency:	Uncommon	Chance In Lair:	16%

Mushussu Sorcerers are those among the Mushussu who have ascended above the rank and file, politicked their way into the good graces of the Akhkhazu or with other occult masters. Like their brethren, they are untrustworthy and seen as spawn of Chaos - especially when their witchery is considered in tandem - however they tend to avoid direct participation in the cosmic struggle, themselves being Neutral: they know that in a pure chaotic state, it becomes impossible to retain and enjoy the material wealth they have attained.

Mushussu Sorcerers are as skilled with their weapons as their mundane brethren - however they prefer to orchestrate from the rear, serving as arcane support. In part, this is due to standard assumptions of marching order... but in part, also, they are seeking to protect their own scales by hiding behind a wall of underlings and hired blades.

Bodyguards - Mushussu Sorcerers encountered in the wilderness have a 50% chance of being accompanied by 4-16 mundane Mushussu bodyguards. In lair, a bodyguard is guaranteed.

Spellcasting - Mushussu Sorcerers can cast spells as a M-U of level 3. First level spells preferred by the Mushussu include Charm Person, Detect Magic, Darkness, Shield, and Ventriloquism; second level spells include Continual Darkness, Detect Invisible and Invisibility, Knock, and Wizard Lock.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Mushussu in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Mushussu and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

The Mushussu are based on a mythological Babylonian dragon of the same name. Dragons, by association, in western literature tend towards the embodiment of greed: thus, Mushussu being greedy makes sense - as they are described as being serpentine, with one translation of their name being the "splendor serpent."

In game, the Mushussu were once men - corrupted by Chaotic spirits, Akhkhazu, in the service of the goddess Dimmekur, who is incarnate the Peccata Clamantia of Violence: the impetus driving the cardinal sins Envy and Wrath. They are capable of normal reproduction - laying clutches of eggs, 4 to 8 at a time - in which case, the Chaos Seed is passed to the young from the mother - however they can also be created by the implantation of the seed by powerful magic, the kind of which the Akhkhazu are capable. In their origins, the Mushussu emerged from the corruption in opposition to the Dabrutu - who embody Wrath - and are envisioned by the Akhkhazu to serve as spies, strategists, and seers in the war against Law.

The Mushussu are not wont to reproduce commonly - as they seek their own gain and take almost no care of their young, who would serve as a drain on their own success. This countermeasures a naturally long productive life span, keeping the ambient Mushussu population at a manageable level. There are stories - as a Mushussu takes as long as three decades to reach maturity - of wizened Mushussu sages using magic on pits of hatchlings to advance their age 15, 20 years in a single ritual: bypassing childhood and adolescence entirely in a quest for immediate and loyal underlings. This act would produce somewhat of a naive nest - which may account for their affinity for Chaos compared to the more experienced sorcerers - but with that naivety can be bought loyalty... at least for a time.

The natural life span of a Mushussu is in the vicinity of 120 years - with those who have not reproduced living slightly longer, to 140 or so. This number is impacted, likewise, by the amount of largesse a Mushussu in question is able to attain: those more impoverished allowing their envy to impact their health - aging them more quickly and compromising their immune system. As such, Mushussu who consistently see themselves as attaining - fairly or not - less than others tend to live closer to 80 years at the maximum. Some may argue that the most wealthy, when targeted, suffer in health as well - their jealousy over subordinates attempting to subvert their success nagging at them as badly as seeing others succeed more would have - but the easy solution to this problem, for most, is for the Mushussu to surround themselves with allies either more loyal (as a human might be) or more stupid, arresting larcenous outcomes.

The Mushussu - on a meta note - are among the Vice Races: embodying the vice of Envy. Like other Vice Races, they can be redeemed - but again, this is unknown to the people of Caan: though there may be some among the Mushussu who suspect as much - something that they, if knowing, would guard jealously: for fear, perhaps - that in redemption, they would lose their riches or desire therefor; for self-preservation, perhaps - seeking to hide the fact in case it could be used against them; or perhaps even to keep it as an ace in the sleeves - potentially exploiting the knowledge, themselves, weighing such an act against the potential fury of Dimmekur.

Public domain artwork respectfully pilfered and adapted from OldBookIllustrations.com and the National Gallery of Art on or about 8/13/2020. Attributions in alt text.

The Dabrutu: Hog Men of Caan

In the waxing light, a thin stream of smoke from a cooking fire snakes about the broad-head leaves - the omen of a fast broken and a day's genesis. Two armored figures, grinding whetstones against blades; three more - oiling leathers; over the fire, a half-man reheats a purloined clutch of eggs alongside salted pork fit for travel. The leaves rustle - ferns swaying against the breeze - armored eyes snap to attention as squealed whispers pierce the quiet. 

Caught! 

A rain of darts whip through punch-holes in the brush - black stains creeping up from the wound as the leaf edges curl as if pained. An armored figure falls - another, the chef - choking as corruption pulses in to the rhythm of their own heartbeats from half a dozen tears the size of sewing needles. Two, four, eight stunted beast men: faces of a boar, the hooves of a swine - four prehensile fingers to a hand, and a snarling gait - vomit out, spears in hand. Three, five, seven - thin skins pierce easily for the adventuring elite: but then come bigger boars - six feet tall, barrel chested - following the swinelings: cruel khopesh hacking, tusks goring, fingers throttling. Three, two - more explorers fall, the smaller and larger of these warriors of the weald laughing as blood fountains spurt and gush before trickling and running dry - last of all, the boar-mother: a man and a half tall, as thick as the trees around her - her matted fur braided with bones and charms - striding across the campsite, looking at the fire, the purloined eggs - now quite burned - the salted pork - overturned, cooling at rest in the dust of the forest floor. A word is spoken. The flame goes out.

These are the Dabrutu - the brutal Hog-Men of Caan.

Bearing Cruel Weapons, Without Fear of the Fight

The Dabrutu - or the Hog Men - are a twisted melding of man and wild boar: hungry, always, and prone to vengeance - choosing to take what they desire over building it with their own sweat. They have four grasping fingers on each hand and walk on bi-cloven hooves. Their bodies have thick, matted fur - thicker with age and size - which serves as a natural armor for them: and their protruding, porcine jaws house sharp tusks which can be used to gore an enemy or one another. A Hog Man's fur can range in color from a deep brown to a midnight black and is frequently blotchy, with irregular patterns emerging in its hue and tone - especially about the torso and head.

The Caanish know the Dabrutu as a menace - the presence of even nuisance Squealers implies the presence of a larger force: perhaps even a dreaded Boar Mother - the passel matriarch bearing powers and blessings of Chaos. They are known to kidnap or capture humans to slaughter as food or to retain as sporting pets - sometimes gambling on combat games between striking prisoners.

Encountering the Hog Men

All Dabrutu, when Saving against Disease or Poison, do so rolling twice and picking the higher of the two results. Dabrutu do not have infravision - but can hear acutely and fight by scent effectively at a radius of 15 feet in darkness.

Dabrutu, Squealer
Armor Class:	7	No. Appearing:	3-12 (special)
Hit Dice:	1	Save As:	Normal Man
Move:	120' (40')	Morale:	6
Attacks:	1 weapon or 1 gore	Treasure Type:	Q (~)
Damage:	By weapon or 1-3	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Common	Chance In Lair:	10%

Squealers are range between two and a half feet and four feet in height and from 25 to 75 pounds in weight. Their fur is somewhat sparse, with the larger specimens being more hairy. They are sadistic and merciless, frequently finding humor in suffering: including the suffering of their own. They tend to act rashly and impulsively and are not particularly brave - so, where they may not find the loss of a comrade to be particularly demoralizing, they will frequently retreat intentionally if they find that the situation does not suit their advantage. They lack, however, the foresight and attention span to re-ambush: thus, if Squealers retreat, it can frequently be assumed they no longer pose an active threat.

1d6	Dabrutu Favored Poison
1	Blindness - the poison attacks the eyes: dimming and darkening. The victim is blinded for the next 1-4 hours and, for 1-4 hours further, the victim's chance of being surprised is increased by 1 in 6.
2	Hallucinations - a paste of mushrooms and oil has been applied. The victim must make a morale check each turn or either flee, cower, or perceive a random target as an adversary - at GM discretion.
3	Muscular Dysfunction - the toxin attacks the nerves, causing muscles to lock up locally and then more broadly. The victim must Save vs Paralysis - for the next 1-4 hours, on a failure, the character is paralyzed; on a success, the character suffers a -1 to attack rolls and a -15' (-5') penalty to their movement rate.
4	Nausea - an old poison or a lazy poisoner has produced a non-fatal, but still sickening, agent. For the next 1-4 hours, the victim rolls all 1d20 rolls twice, taking the lower roll. Additionally, if a spellcaster, the victim suffers a 25% spell failure rate.
5	Sepsis - the point has been swabbed in filth. The victim will require a successful save each day in order to heal any HP.
6	Sleep - the concoction is laced with powerful barbiturates. The victim will fall into a deep sleep for 1-4 hours, but can be awakened forcibly after 1-4 minutes.

Favored weapons include spears - the reach making up for a Squealer's short stature - other small-sized polearms, and blow-guns.


Squealers frequently smear fetid or toxic substances on the darts and points of their weapons - requiring a Save vs Poison or producing a noxious effect. A list of common poisons favored by the Dabrutu is provided - while it is possible multiple individuals will be using different poison types, it is more common that a single poison type will be used by the net encounter at a time, as Dabrutu poisons frequently have a short shelf life and will have been brewed very recently from whatever the Squealers found on hand.

Special: Squealers do not have lairs of their own: they always live in the company of Boar Mothers. Thus, they are not encountered in the wilderness alone unless the party is within a mile of a Boar Mother's den - in which case, Warriors will likely be patrolling the area as well.

Dabrutu, Warrior
Armor Class:	5	No. Appearing:	2-8 (5-20)
Hit Dice:	2+1	Save As:	Fighter 2
Move:	90' (30')	Morale:	8
Attacks:	1 weapon or 1 gore	Treasure Type:	S (B)
Damage:	By weapon or 1-4, both +1	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Common	Chance In Lair:	20%

Dabrutu Warriors have a hunch at the upper extent of their back, causing their head to jut forward when in a comfortable gait and producing an apparent height of just shorter than an average human - somewhere in the vicinity of 5 and a half feet. When looking up, or intentionally standing erect, many if not most easily crest two yards. They share the harshness of their kindred Squealers, but not their fickleness, and are known to engage in group tactics. They prefer - and will seek - advantageous circumstances, such as surprise or encircling of an adversary: if a party is surprised by Dabrutu Warriors, it is almost a guarantee that they will have surrounded them or have taken steps to block off an easy exit path, such as with tripwires or rockfalls.

For every 6 Dabrutu Warriors in a group, there is a 50% chance of 1-4 Squealers accompanying them. For every 12 Dabrutu Warriors in a group, there is a 30% chance of a single Boar Mother in tow.

Preferred weapons include heavy hacking weapons - such as axes or bladed polearms. They are not averse to poison - but they tend not to outside of clearly one-sided engagements, as a Warrior has grown to depend on its strength and tactics over the cheap cunning of the weaker Squealers.

Dabrutu, Boar Mother
Armor Class:	4	No. Appearing:	1* (1-6)
Hit Dice:	6	Save As:	Thief 5
Move:	90' (30')	Morale:	10
Attacks:	1 weapon or 1 gore	Treasure Type:	V (B)
Damage:	By weapon or 1-8, both +1	Alignment:	Chaotic
Frequency:	Rare	Chance In Lair:	60%

Boar Mothers - as their name implies - are sows who have grown to immense size. Even with the characteristic hunch of the Dabrutu, a Boar Mother stands easily 8 feet in height and bears large, snarling tusks beyond their beady eyes. Their fur is longer and courser than that of other Dabrutu - it tends to be braided, different each day, with the skulls of smaller animals - some sentient, some not - woven into it, producing a muted rattle as they knock together inside curtains of hair. Routinely, likewise, Boar Mothers dress the part - wearing vestments or stoles with scrawled runes on them legible only to the lords of Chaos, stained dark with dirt and blood.

Spellcasting: Boar Mothers are blessed by the Akhkhazu - Chaotic spirits in service to a dark god, Dimmekur - and can cast spells as a Vicar (Cleric of 4th level). Frequently used spells include Blight, Cause Light Wounds, Cause Fear, Darkness, and Hold Person.

* Special: Boar Mothers never appear alone. If a lone Boar Mother is rolled, it will be accompanied by a bodyguard of Warriors: 2-8 in the dungeon, 5-20 in the wilderness. Similarly, based on the number of Warriors, so also may Squealers appear in tow.

Spoiler Alert!

The Deeper Lore section contains some notes to help a GM (me) to run the Hog Men in a way consistent with the archetype they are supposed to fill and some of the inspirations behind their creation. If you play in (or want to play in!) a game GM'ed by me, beyond this point will ruin some of the mystery for you for both Dabrutu and for most of the sentient races: having some impact in the game world that isn't immediately available outside of player character discoveries.

Deeper Lore

There is little difference between male and female Dabrutu, physically. Not all females will grow into Boar Mothers, though in a Dabrutu passel, only a Boar Mother is permitted to reproduce - thus, any female Warrior is assumed to be a gilt. Dabrutu produce litters smaller than true hogs - around six at a time - which are weaned no later than four months later. Some Warrior females will grow pregnant mistakenly: where feasible, these Warriors are occasionally known to sneak their own offspring into the litter (or litters) of resident Boar Mothers: who don't care about their children enough to scrutinize them. Young who are nursed in this manner typically survive - young who are not are typically slaughtered: and if the Warrior mother is found out, she will find herself on the receiving end of a challenge from the resident Boar Mother as a competitor.

From time to time, a female will instead be elevated to Boar Mother - a transition that requires either the intervention of the Akhkhazu or for the female to receive the energies passed to a preexisting Boar Mother upon her death. This occurs voluntarily on occasion - a female Warrior having been groomed by a coven of Boar Mothers to replace one who nears the end of her natural life span - far less common is the Boar Mother being replaced willing to give up her blessing, regardless of whether she takes it to her grave. The Dabrutu - especially the Warrior caste - are typically not aware of the Akhkhazu: religion is the domain of the Boar Mothers.

An unknown element regarding the Squealers - they are not a subspecies, as many might believe: instead, Squealers - as might be evidenced by their varied size - are the shoats of Boar Mother litters - children, so to speak, for the Dabrutu people. A Dabrutu matures quickly - reaching adulthood (Warrior stage) around 9 years of age. Squealers are between the ages of 5 months and 6 or 7 years, typically. In childhood, Squealers are adventurous and keen to strike out on their own, with little regard to social standing; in puberty, however, Squealers begin to be conscious of their passel's hierarchy

The natural life span - that is, an "in captivity" Dabrutu, so to speak - can be 35 or 40 years.
The life span of a Boar Mother can stretch beyond a century - as long as 120 years.

On a more meta-note, more than one person with whom I've played, world-building, has had the idea to tie mortal races to the cosmology: specifically, in an old-school context, recalling that the game was heavily influenced by Christian mythos early on, tying the mortal races to the Seven Virtues and Seven Vices (or Seven Deadly Sins). Being the totally unique and snowflake-special innovative type that I am, I boarded that train, too - taking it one step further by tying the Seven Vices to the four Peccata Clamantia - which, in game terms, I translate to Violence, Excess, Oppression, and Defrauding. To that end, the Hog Men, or Dabrutu, are a representation of the Sin of Wrath, bound and intertwined with the Peccata Clamantia, Violence. By association, the Akhkhazu - stolen from Akkadic tradition - are a representation of Violence: being both vengeful and avaricious. The name Dabrutu was taken from Babylonian traditions - Umū Dabrūtu - actual depictions of which were lost (went with boar-people, to reference early TSR Orc art and to attest to the chimeric penchant for Mesopotamian mythological beings), but which were described as being wrathful and keen with weapons - prior to being subdued and bound to benevolent service by Marduk.

The Dabrutu - as well as other Vice Races - are not, themselves, a natural thing. Instead, in an age before, the powers of Chaos, raging against the powers of Law, stole humans, who are the middle ground: unique in their spiritual duality - and planted in them a Chaos Seed. The Chaos Seed entrusted to Dimmekur was planted by Akhkhazu covens: resulting in two creatures reflected by the two ways in which their nature - their affiliation to Violence - manifests: one, an embodiment of Envy (another race, the Mushussu); the other, an embodiment of Wrath - the Dabrutu: a people built for combat, built for survival, and built for anger. The secret of the Dabrutu - like all of the Vice Races - they are capable of breeding, and do breed: the Chaos Seed spreading and growing in the hearts of the offspring akin to Original Sin - however, it is not the only way that these creatures are created. By the nature of their society, the Dabrutu keep themselves largely in check - no species foundationally vested in malice can be sustained: when large groups, hordes, or wars are waged by the Dabrutu, almost always, it is the work of the Akhkhazu - who have bred more Dabrutu through the ritual to plant the Chaos Seed in the hearts of a population.

A powerful Cleric can remove the Chaos Seed - restoring, redeeming a Dabrutu - but this secret is not known to the Caanish priesthood.

None who live know how a redeemed might react to such an act.


Public domain artwork lovingly pilfered from OldBookIllustrations.com on or about 8/11/2020. Attributions in alt text.