(I hope I'm not writing ovee what somebody else already wrote for travel to the "Plane of the dead?") This Phinox got trapped heading to Dayeimbe's Plane of the Dead now those who enter have to get past this Phinox or be killed those who are already dead pass the Phinox unharmed but anyone who is not ready to die has to pass the Phinox unharmed several solutions have been made to such a problem 1. Stay on The far side those who never attempt to cross the Phinox remain on the plane of the living forever 2.Others have tried crossing but only got so far a city sits in the center of the Phinox where it is easier to get to and 3. finally beyond the city their are the few that have ventured beyond the city walls these folk have often figured how to become immune to fire damage and live beyond the walls making travel even more difficult
This could be a Historical Apocalyptic Setting for Dayeimbe or it could be current
So this is a conglomeration of ideas from several different places and some of you will probably guess where many of them come from, but I have had this idea for a bit and it fits this description.
An Astral Dragon (not dreadnought. It is different ok? bigger, stronger, cooler looking. lol) that serves as the Warden of a timeless prison. He is the warden, the jailor, and sometimes even the executioner. He is the entrance to the prison and the exit. So while the visual effect of a hat on a hat isn't there exactly, the idea and purpose are there.
(From my notes) An Astral Dragon - homebrewed Dragon. Is the warden. Jailor. Sometimes executioner.
Bigger than gargantuan. Powerful. But limited as the Warden. The Astral Dragon serves as the main entrance to the prison in the island when it wishes. However, the Astral Dragon can be away from the Island for more than 24 hours, and that distance is limited. The Astral Dragon can only leave once per week. Where he goes to, only the Council of 5 knows.
The island serves as a multidimensional prison for a secret society and holds a collection of people, monsters, phylacteries, items, and artifacts of power from across the dimensions. The Astral Dragon controls the main entrance and exit to the actual prison within the island for those who are willing to enter and those who are forced in as prisoners.
To enter the prison, the Astral-Dragon, known only as Warden to most, opens his mouth. However, just when one thinks the Warden's mouth is opened as far as it can, it gets wider, like a snake's can, and the Dragon exhales slowly. Those the Warden are allowing in disappear into a black mist exhaled by the Warden. When one exits the prison, it looks similar. Anyone inside the prison can communicate with the Warden mentally. While inside the prison, the Warden has complete access to all thoughts, if he is awake and so chooses. The Warden can talk to anyone in the prison at any time.
Post by dmslythytoves on Mar 24, 2021 15:05:18 GMT
7. Warforged Colossus
Only spoken of by old seafarers or watchmen who might have had a little too much to drink, the Roving Range were thought to be just stories. Until now. Three Warforged Colossus, long bereft of their original creators, have each become a host to a tribe of small creatures, and are inadvertently on a path towards a large city.
The first and tallest, referred to as Mosk by the tribe of kobolds, the Moskans, who have taken up residence upon its head and shoulders, seems to possess unquenchable fires that leak through the gaps in its construction. Moskans are trained to tap into their draconic heritage and magically control the fires that surround them for both offense and defense. They depend on hunting small creatures that roost and nest upon the sides of Mosk for sustenance.
Maintaining a cold stale-mate with the Moskans due to necessary distance is a tribe of goblins, calling them selves the Grumples, who have settled upon the broadest Colossus, named Grump by the Grumples. Grump appears to have a very elaborate water-cooling system, as much of its surface leaks streams of water, keeping the surface quite moist. Because of the extra surface and moisture to work with, the Grumples have managed to cultivate a thriving colony of mushrooms which are utilized as food, medicine…and weapons.
The smallest, most irregularly shaped of the Colossus is called Rumblerock by the Rock Gnomes that inhabit the jutting spires upon the head and shoulders of their mobile mountain. The tribe of Rumblerockers study and learn from the three colossus, building and adapting their own mechanical creations to assist with their small crops, foraging extra supplies from the world below, and obtaining resources anytime the Roving Range grinds to a halt.
The three tribes have no idea where the Colussus came from, nor where they all shall go. But one things is certain: the other two tribes are definitely up to something…
In a remote/forgotten land, Hidden by an all encompassing, cascading, cataclysmic hurricane like storm. In the Eye of this storm an island (continent?) heavy plumes rise high into the air, a misty haze in every direction. As you come ever closer to shore loud roaring, hissing, clanking fills your ears. You see heavy clouds pushing up from something hidden beyond the ever lush tree line just beyond the shoreline. A sprawling city full of Dinosaurs of every kind! Big ones, small ones, sharp tooth’s and veggie-saurs all living together. Some have shops, some are working construction on tall buildings, some wearing glasses, all with various trinkets and curious tools. But most jaggedly apparent are the machines emitting steam! every conceivable contraption or idea cobbled together with parts and pieces, providently pushing out steam!
Awakened Dinos all living together as a “normal” society but having been able to produce all manner of steam engines for almost any purpose. Vehicles, alarm clocks, harvesters, construction tools, you name it, you do you
5. Ogremoch (sort of, feel free to sub in any large moving mass of rock that fits your campaign!)
As you crest a hill, you see a ragged canyon before you. While most canyons have an irregular shape, this one seems especially unnatural, as though some colossal thing had torn away the soil with brute force. You look to the side and notice a group of travelers with picks and other mining tools, a small caravan clearly bound for a mining town. You are confused by this, as their is no mine readily apparent. You approach the group and ask where they are going.
"We're not going anywhere. This is where we're going," one of theme replies. Seeing your confusion, they smile slightly. "You're new in these parts, aren't you?"
You nod in reply, and they continue "If you can spare a couple of days to wait with us, you'll see something to tell your descendants of."
He won't say more than that. Intrigued, and in no hurry, you decide to wait. As you stay with these people, you notice some odd things. First, they have horses, pack animals, and wagons with them, but there is no town for miles, nowhere to quarter the animals, and no dedicated personnel to tend them. Also, you notice a large number of ropes and grapples alongside their other mining equipment. Lastly, you see they have almost nothing with them that cannot be carried in or attached to a pack. As you go to bed on the second day, you are no closer to figuring out what is going on then you were on day one.
In the early morning, you awaken to a distant rumbling that seems to be growing closer. You slip free of your bedroll and tent and come out to see a vaguely humanoid shape formed of pure stone marching through the canyon, its arms crashing against the sides as it comes. The miners are up, gathering their things. "It should be here by this afternoon, in time for the shift change," one of the miners tells you. You just stare.
As the afternoon approaches and the creature draws nearer, several of the miners bring out scrolls. They go to the edge of the canyon and, in unison, begin a mystical chant. You walk to the edge yourself and see the ground at the base of the canyon begin to turn to thick, cloying mud. "We have to slow it down, even if we can't stop it," you are told when you ask what is going on.
When the mountainous thing arrives, it sinks to it's knees in the mud, which hardens around it as one of the miner's drops something into the brown glop. While this is happening, the rest of the workers toss their grappling hooks towards a series of openings on the thing's shoulder. Other workers appear at the holes and begin rapidly sending bags down the lines, which are quickly unhooked and moved to sides to make room for the workers themselves as they leave the body and the miners you were with ascend the ropes, entering the behemoth. All the while, the juggernaut attempts to keep moving, breaking itself free not long after the last of the miners enters.
Those who came out of the monster finally explain the situation to you. The monster you now see making its way along the canyon is known simply as the Moving Mine. Summoned by magic in the distant past, the brute simply walks a loop endlessly, in the process creating the canyon you see before you. As chunks of it broke off in its travels, people noticed that sometimes there would be strange ore in the debris. A decision was made, and a plan was created, to set up a mine inside the creature. Making the initial openings was difficult, but now there is a small mining community inside the creature. Shifts are one week, and the crews coming in bring all the food and supplies they will need (there are a few semi-permanent residents who keep things going, including a group of priests who use divine power to provide water). The departing crews take the entering crews horses and pack animals back to the main offices, along with the ore extracted during the week.
An exotic Bazaar/ town being dragged by the largest earth elemental you've ever seen across the desert … JK April fools, shout out to Celeste and the Venture Maidens.
TLDR: flying/ swimming dragon turtle island
Denta the Dragon Turtle saved Ulna de la Rosa, well known pirate captain, from certain doom. It was not the first time they met and it would not be the last. To show her gratitude Ulna gave Denta a powerful boon, a wish. Denta wished to swim through the air as she did through the sea.
Mangrove reefs often grow upon dragon turtle backs and they often attract fay-flies, which create bubbles that will eventually surround the tree tops in air pockets (passable by all but water). Fay-flies always attract magi-fish, since Denta took flight the magi-fish have for the first time imitated the fay-flies and created water pockets around the reef roots. This has created a unique and diverse, yet fragile ecosystem.
With a harbor inhabited by Denta’s sea spawn, the only other permanent humanoid residents are a tribe of Lizardfolk. Led by Cypress the druid (who is partially sea spawned and beholden to Denta) the Lizardfolk work to guard and preserve this fragile ecosystem. Respectful visitors are tolerated with great suspicion.
It is rumored that Ulna’s treasure is buried within and that Ulna surely would not have given a wish scroll as a boon (no matter how greatful) unless she possessed another.
An ancient dragon that spends their days in the form of an old human woman - wrinkled with age and covered in folds of faded fabric that could be called a dress or a robe depending on who you ask. The folks in the town call her Mad Maggie - she'll stay out even when it starts to rain just to feed her pigeons. She hardly says a word when spoken to, the most many will hear is her cooing back to the birds. Children leave her alone - stories circulate that others have scared her birds away become hexed by her.
The innkeeper, named Chenna, located up the road from the park Mad Maggie most frequents has taken pity on her and will always have a bed open for Maggie. This kindness has since been rewarded, and now Chenna the innkeeper is privy to Maggie's secret, and her cellar has also become the home of Maggie's - or Maggisrylath's treasure horde. On slow days for the inn you'll see Chenna join Maggie tossing seed to the birds, and watching the world pass by.
Post by DM Onesie Knight on Jun 7, 2021 23:58:10 GMT
Kraken + Phoenix: the Pyrokraken
It's an elemental reflection of a kraken on the elemental plane of fire! Some say it was an ancient kraken that used eldritch knowledge to change its essence for reasons lost to history. Others insist that elementals reflect the material plane, and there corresponds a version of every living being. Either way, the pyrokraken is just as malevolent and unfathomable as its aquatic kin, as well as erratically violent and aggressive and capable of jetting geysers of magma as it breathes and uses its jet propulsion. It attempts to grapple intruders and drag them into the magma, while jetting more magma onto either the grappled victim or other foes. When it catches the brass ships of the Efreeti or the thermal gliders of genasi, it deposits all the loot and wreckage into a deep pit in the center of its incandescent lair.
With the (semi) recent addition of Plasmoids, it has given me an idea to add some kind of sentient biological race set within the body of a gargantuan beast. Inspired by the Futurama episode 'Parasites Lost' (s3,e2; 2001) and the movie Osmosis Jones (2001); where cells and parasites have proper sentience and self awareness, and civilisations within the body of their host. The idea is that within the tarrasque there could be different zones or boroughs or neighbourhoods among the different organs of the body and this civilisation works, lives and exists within the tarrasque. The creature could be dormant as well which could lead the people within to live a simpler quieter life so as not to wake it. They might harvest pieces from the tarrasque and only take minimal resources that don't hurt the host too much to wake it and not too much that it wont grow back naturally.
The people may pay homage in some form of faith based manner to the creature they live in but could also very well be aware of the nature of their situation. The 'town' could be shrunk to make it localised in one portion of the tarrasque and so adventuring could be had when leaving town and exploring the outer zones (other organs).
Time and again while scrying arcane airwaves that offered mental exercises, I heard the siren call of a sea witch, imploring me to come take part in the communal scribing. I hope the party isn't too far along but you know what they say about wizards being late...
Magically yours from the last continent, WizzardofAus