Factions of Druidun: Moh! I need moh!

A northern wastes Hirsute Goblin spreading its fashionable Nightcloak; shaman enchanted, Nightcloaks were highly prized and used (particularly on the surface) to blend goblin raiders into the landscape, taking on the appearance of rocks or tree stumps

With just a little bit of work, a couple paragraphs, you can make generic foes distinctive and add flavour to the encounter, making it unlike anything else. 

Give it a whirl! 

My fall back is to tie factions to a patron, as you can see... 

Much background information the players may never know; the ultimate goal really is to have enough bones on which to flesh out an imaginary adventure space that has some underlying logic and integrity, which helps suspends disbelief and adds to the immersion and fun.

That, at least, was the idea.

The Cult of Thypthyp
These ravenous troglodytes worship Thypthyp, their snake god (actually just a big smart snake-monster that was once a sorcerers pet, but it grew too large, so down the sewer it went...) lower in the dungeon. 

Snake-Priests of Thypthyp carry, naturally, a trained poisonous snake around their neck, which they will throw at unbelievers. Well. Basically anybody who isn't a troglodyte. Then they have their acolytes beat them to death with their fang clubs (curved pairs of spikes embedded atop a club). Warriors use poison, milking it from the tribes 'pet' snakes. They have snake sentries, snake pits, snake skin thongs, crude snake totems carved out of bones, snake fang necklaces, etc. 

Their snake god Thypthyp just wants to get back to the Yuan Ti in the orient. The troglodytes are oblivious to its pleas. 

The Thyps paint snakes over everything everywhere (walls, floors, doors, ceilings) to mark their territory, using white bat guano, like a bunch of man-eating reptiian Keith Haring wannabes. 

Never shake a troglodytes hand. 

The Bandit King

A filthy old half-orc thug, the self-proclaimed Bandit King was hired by the necromancer to sow chaos in Pelshire, which he was happy to do. He also hired out his services to Sigulf of Walcastra to do the same thing, and now he bills them both. Don't tell. 

Originally named Kreg Ornstrom, the King can see in the dark as well as elves, and wields a giant two-handed executioners' scimitar (called Xanath, +2 to damage and to hit) in battle. He has a long black beard with small bones tied into it, and he's always spitting out a slimy tobacco sludge that lines his mouth and stains his lips black. He has early stage tongue cancer. 

Ornstrom has enslaved wayward gnomes, dwarves, humans, and elves to work in his makeshift weapons factory, situated in one of the old prison panopticons. He sells the product to the necromancer, to arm the zombie hordes. Ornstrom loves the idea of mindlessly obedient minions. He's set his gnomish prisoners to building an army of automaton soldiers, with which he can breach the Doom Vault deep below. He'll liberate the powerful, forbidden evil magics contained within to become King of Greater Mercia (he is of half-Mercian descent, born in a pirate cove of resentful exiles and their orc mercenaries). 

The Bandit King's own followers are the scum of the earth, dozens of ruthless cutthroats that even he doesn't trust. About half are locals (they have taken heavy casualties). He has two brutish bo'sun assistants (Karl and Jakar) that he trusts, who keep the grunts in line. They wear troglodyte skin jerkins, foppish fancy hats, and wield whips and maces. 

He knows the necromancer’s master has a holdfast deep below, but the necromancer doesn’t trust Ornstrom enough to let him know where it is, which is wise, because he'd loot it in a heartbeat the necromancer doesn't have. 

The Bandit King resents taking orders, and plans to make the necromancer pay for his entitlement. Eventually. 

The big problem is that The Bandit King isn't as smart as he thinks he is. Years of sycophantic flattery has distorted his perception of reality.

His faction glyph is a crudely drawn crown, scratched into surfaces using a dagger.

The Seeing Hand 

The hirsute Goblins of The Seeing Hand are a band of particularly hairy humanoids from the northern wastes. They've migrated south to worship Wrothvool, The All Seeing, a demon held prisoner in The Doom Vault far below. Their head to foot hairy coats (betraying their relationship to Bugbears) marks these goblins as foreigners in this region, and local goblins will immediately band together to fight this foreign strain.

The vault contains imprisoned evil devices and weapons and monstrous toe-curling beings... and it is leaking. Shaman have drawn open eyes on both their palms: the 'gaze' of these puts targets into a sleep like state, rendering them aware but paralyzed until attacked. Warriors paint only their left hand. This is done in a ritual before they go on raids. 

Wrothvool is able to channel through the tribes' shamans, communicating in an eerie yet strangely compelling silky smooth voice, and even casting remote spells. He wants to escape his prison, and for the goblins to help, but if the players offer him better chances, he'll ditch his devoted minions in a heart beat. 

Through The Nexus (a gateway rogue and reckless wizards—move fast and break things!–opened up in the depths during their forbidden magic experiments) he can bring in demonic legions and destroy the world, but he needs to get a cursed stone from the Doom Vault, The Eye of Demogorgon, to stabilize the connection first.

The Black Scales

These bitter and endlessly envious kobolds work for the necromancer, but serve the black dragon living in the south west corner of level one. Whatever you have, they want, especially if it's shiny and can be given to their dragon-god as an offering. 

They wear black dragon scales (sheddings of their master) as prized armour, and throw glass grenades full of acid in battle. They also have acid pits, acid traps, and potent sour candy made from the black dragon’s drool. Warriors paint their faces black with mud, mixed with ash from the dragon's breath weapon. 

They bill themselves as The Black Scale Clan, and so long as the dragon is there to back them up, take no crap, not from anyone. If the dragon wanders off (as he is prone to do, the dragon has ADHD), they run away right quick. 

They mark their territory using crude jagged mouth symbols burned into available surfaces, usually walls or floors, with acid. They carry the acid in flasks made of folded dragon scales lined with basilisk entrails. In areas that lead to the dragon's lair, they've been etching dozens of reliefs of the dragon's grinning head into the stone walls, and stylized footprints into the flagstones. Kobolds are consummate stone workers and these show of their skills quite well.

The dragon moved into Druidun a few years ago through one of the dwarven mine shafts. It's still young, and is eager to make a name for itself among its dragon peers. This area has been unclaimed territory ever since Prince Imros slew the Great Wyrm of the Forks; this the dragon hopes to make it a permanent hunting ground. 

Looting Forksbury and adding the city's riches to its treasure pile would be a great coup. Dragons rank each other by the devastation they wreak, the tribute they extract, and the treasure they amass. They will sometimes let adventurers go if they are suitably impressed by the dragon's hoard and will spread the word of how awe inspiring it is. This attracts more adventurers and a steady stream of snacks, not to mention the envy of other dragons. Through its dragon minions, the dragon spreads news of its riches; the bones of many foolish and greedy mercenaries of the Bandit King now adorn its lair. 

The kobolds want to make humans their slaves (as a ruthless human oligarch known as Doge Madrico of June had once used kobold slaves in his mines, this is seen as pay back) and take their rightful place as overlords. But first, they have to exterminate the Seeing Hand tribe, who are always messing up their super secret plans. 

Dragon Garage: Zach's Journal wraps at The Duck

Dragon Garage: Zach's Journal has wrapped up over at The Duck.

It's a set of 24 one page strips, picking up at the end of the eponymous graphic novel.

Give it a read, and if you like it, give it a thumbs up and share it! 

That's the only way to get the word out and justify more strips. 

One day, hopefully, there can be a print sequel. 

Time will tell. 

Factions of Druidun: The Ulu & Rog cannibals

Devolved human cannibals are dungeon staple, because let's face it, they're awesome!  Political refugees, rogue nobles, rebellious serfs, cults, bandits and the like are other top choices. 

The Ulu and Rog cannibal tribes

These are two tribes of devolved, human cannibals, descendants of the prisoners (and some guards) of the long abandoned panopticons; they have become extremely ferocious in order to survive, and raid the surface at night to seize mates, supplies and loot.

Both groups are albino, have Blindsight, are vulnerable to radiant damage, and suffer disadvantage in bright light. They also can go berserk with bloodlust, and smear themselves with blood (carried by their priests in waterskin bags) before battle. 

The north tribe (the Ulu) is allied with the Bandit King, the wererats, and the gnolls, mostly out of desperation. 

The south tribe (Rog) is more powerful, and was on verge of wiping the Ulu out, until they gained new allies. The north tribe makes an ululating war cry, while the south tribe barks out a chant of ‘Rog!’, hence their names. 

Ulu cover themselves with raised circular welt tattoos, the Ulu with raised zig-zag line welts. The Rog also brand themselves with garlic cloves, to flag allies and keep the roaming vampire Ilyas at bay when he decides to go for an evening walk for snacks.

Both tribes conduct ritual sacrifices to Atul, their demigod, a bastardized version of Saint Aethelwulf. They use poison darts and poison blades in battle (the poison is bought from the Myconids, and is fungus based). So much poison in this dungeon! Cooking the flesh of those so slain in a fungus sauce neutralizes the poison for consumption. Otherwise, the flesh is rendered poisonous.

Both tribes have shamans who can cast darkness.

The cannibals all charge into battle with no fear and swarm over enemies. Both men and women fight. Even their kids, at age 10, join in, stabbing at legs and feet, or yanking away gear, spell books, and equipment. 

Feral pigs are bred in panopticon pens, fed with fungus, offal, dung and fresh dirt bought from Myconids, in exchange for extra corpses and spells. 

The Ulu and Rog hate magic-users, for the Eldritch Veil (a rogue wizard sect) experimented on them. They can smell the magic-ether on spell casters, and will kill them immediately.

Each tribe is led by a Great Waldun (warden), who holds the Sacred Sun Key, and believe that when they die they are absorbed into The Light Above. Those who come from the surface are seen as fallen angels, demons, that must be vanquished and eaten. 

Exceptions to the rule are made for the bandits (because the Ulu needed their help), who are regarded as Holy Messengers of the Sun. That doesn't stop the Ulu from eating them should they wander off alone.

Building the megadungeon: Why factions are fabulous

Goblins and kobolds are dime a dozen. 

Players may groan at meeting another nondescript batch of the little green meanies. 

But gussy them up with personality as a distinct faction, and voila, they're much more engaging!

Second, savvy players can play multiple factions off against each other, adding another dimension to game play.

For example, let's create two factions of goblins who are at odds. 

Let's say one is called the Hobdreamers, and they have discovered a vast hallucinogenic fungus colony deep in the megadungeon. They are pale and nocturnal, cover themselves with white shroom dust, and mark their territory with mushroom caps stained in blood and set on a pike.

The fungus colony is sentient and communicates with the goblins through dream quests. It's goals are unknowable to mere animals. 

The industrious goblins are grinding up batches of fungus and selling it to humans in local villages and towns, causing an addiction epidemic that has authorities alarmed. This also gives the fungus colonies glimpses of what the user sees. 

Of course, the goblins need human middle men, as most people won't trust treacherous goblins pushing shrooms. So the goblins enlist the down and out, people on the fringes of society who have been cast aside. Perhaps crippled war veterans, or members of persecuted religious sects who've had their possessions confiscated by the local authorities and now thirst for revenge, like getting the bishop's sons addicted to shrooms. 

The second goblin tribe, let's call them the Lurkwebs, worship a giant arachnid (the classic trope, but I love it) which can psychically control a single goblin at a time mentally. Spider Queen Ixitchibit also produces offspring large enough for the goblins to ride. 

They use mama spider's web silk to create nets, which they use to snare merchants and caravans going along the old forest road passing by the megadungeon. The forest is perpetually gloomy, allowing these goblins to operate during daytime, as so little sun reaches the forest floor. They are excellent trackers and specialize in ambushes from above, riding their spider mounts and firing poison darts and arrows.

Spider venom is used to poison their blades. Perhaps they also spike their mead, slowly gaining immunity to the venom. Their skin is tattooed with web patterns and spiral welts. Their territory is marked by crude web patterns.

Each goblin tribe is simultaneously building a skull and bone totem pole, trying to out do the other. The Hobdreamers have been suddenly getting much richer, their tower more splendid by the day. The Lurkwebs are jealous and want to put the Hobdreamers back in their place.

On top of that, the local thieves guild is angry that a new mysterious group is peddling drugs in their turf, and want their cut. 

So just by fleshing out a couple factions, we create a web of intrigue and possible adventure threads. Perhaps the local authorities want to hire the characters to put a stop to the drug trade. Or the thieves want to hire the characters to strong arm the goblins, or one goblin tribe wants to hire the characters to burn down the other's tribal totem. Maybe the merchants want an escort through the forest, or revenge on the goblins.

All of a sudden, the goblins are not just goblins anymore. They're Lurkwebs and Hobdreamers, both visibly distinct, with different goals and interests. 

Defining a faction leads to connections and consequences and fleshing out other factions, and suddenly you have a web of adventure hooks.

Ask yourself:

1) Who or what do they worship? What else makes them distinct? 

Orcs might follow a demon banished from Hell for not being evil enough. Kobolds might be trying to hatch a dragon's egg. Goblins might serve a medusa, and gouge their eyes out as a sign of devotion. A failed acolyte might pose as a powerful sorcerer and use a stolen magical artifact to beguile a tribe of gullible hobgoblins... until exposed. 

2) How does that figure in to their appearance, goals and modus operandi? 

Think of adornments (tattoos, clothing, face paint, armour, etc.), macabre ends (raising a demon, opening a gateway, creating a war machine, enslaving enemies, passing their spirit into objects, cursing a rival, etc. Pull freely from fantasy tropes, there are a ton of well worn ones!), and how step 1 above might influence how they go about it. 

The only limit is your imagination!

3) Who or what do they need to achieve their goals? 

Maybe they use magic, or ancient golem left over from an earlier civilization. Think of interesting monster combinations: what might they collaborate with to make encounters more engaging?

Kobold missile troops might benefit from the help of a bruiser, a bear or giant scorpion. 

Orcs might benefit from some imp allies, or perhaps they're berserkers who use only bone weapons and have pet grey ooze to deal with armoured enemies. Maybe the excrement or residue slime of a grey ooze, if you smear it on your skin, repels it.  

4) Who or what would want to oppose this, and why? Evil factions are often driven by things like envy, hate, sloth, prejudice, entitlement, etcetera. 

If one faction suddenly gets wealthier, it'll piss off all their rivals, who might gang up on them. Or perhaps they'd serve as mercenaries, then betray them. 

And of course there will be the forces of good who will oppose a rising tide of evil in the region. Perhaps it's the faeries of the woods, or a merchant guild trying to rebuild prosperity, or desperate farmers, or a monastery of monks guarding an ancient tome. 

Taken together, these details can help make your humanoid monster fodder more interesting, as well as flesh out the region which the characters are exploring. Plus, the web of interconnections will offer a plethora of fun ways players can turn rivalries to their advantage.

Win win!

Next up: A bunch of factions from Druidun Dungeon.

New strip up at The Duck

 Head on over to see the full thing. 

It's Zach and Jack!

It'll be updated weekly, until I burn out and descend into an alcohol induced stupor and get deported to a gulag in El Savlador, and join a despearte mission to move nitroglycerin through the jungle with Roy Schneider to put out an oil well that's on fire. 

All in a day in the life of a comic book artist.

Dragon Garage: Zach's Journal launches on The Duck!

Check out the ongoing adventures of Zach and gang in the wild world of Arthea, his RPG world, accessed through the garage gateway. For more on the story, check out the graphic novel, available from Amazon.

The comic will be weekly and can be viewed here. 

I figure I'll update it Mondays. The first one is going up Sunday... why? Because Sunday is Funday! 

Actually, I was trying to figure out how to set it up the comic page and accidentally hit publish. 

It's one smooth operating machine here, I tell ya.

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Because every fantasy adventure worth its salt has a map!