Palahadros’ Pomicultural Purloining

large-fruit-basketAn incredibly petty spell, created out of small-minded malice by one Palahadros of Baldur’s Gate. Rumour has it that he fell into some sort of spat with the local Greengrocers’ Guild over the rather unfortunate and violent juxtaposition of several market stalls and a conjured cow; pride was wounded, vows hurled, and a veritable saga of enmity began, of which this spell is but one chapter (one of the more pleasant ones, in fact).


Palahadros freely shared the wands he crafted out of this spell with several local urchin gangs, which act of questionable philanthropy led to what is still spoken of irreverently in the marketplace as the Day of Hurled Melons.


Lv. 1 conjuration/summoning

Range: 1 km

Components: V, S, M

Duration: Instant

Casting Time: 2

AoE: 1 fruit

Save: Special


By means of this spell, the nearest fruit of a type specified in the casting is conjured into the mage’s hand. Magical fruit, and fruit in the possession of others, get saving throws. The material component is a preserved branch that once bore fruit. This branch is reusable.


Alternately, this branch may be imbued with the spell, and placed in the hand of any other being. The branch will obey, and respond to fruit names as command words, summoning up to 3 fruits for its wielder before withering into nothing. The preserving oils necessary cost 1 sp.

Bhalakyne’s Bookmark

Slumping away the mangled bodies of its nobleman passengers, you find in the overturned carriage a simple wooden gift chest.  In the chest is a lone scroll with a footnote that reads;

To my faithful apprentice.  While inspecting the spellwards this morning, I was rather disturbed to find that the silent alarm on a certain door in my library had been tripped.  Unfortunately, more pressing matters called me away shortly thereafter, so I cannot be there myself to look into it.  Take this key and return to the grounds after dark tonight. I want you to do some sleuthing.  Use this scroll, and send word immediately ere you discover who has been reading, and what it is that they have read, in the forbidden section of my library.

Signed, Bhalakyne of the Emerald Rookery

Lv 4 Divination Image

Range: 0

Components: V, S, M

Duration: 1 round/level

Casting Time: 1 round

Area of Effect: none

Saving Throw: Special


To cast this spell, the caster places a single pearl upon an ordinary, plain bookmark. Over the course of a round, as the caster mutters and waggles the appropriate eldritch prompts, the pearl melts and insinuates itself onto the bookmark in elegant inlaid whorls. Starting next round, once per round for the duration of the spell, the bookmark may be touched to any book, letter, scroll or similar reading material, and relay certain information to the caster. The caster will gain immediate knowledge of which pages were viewed last time the book was open, and will view the event in his mind’s eye for as long as the bookmark is touching the material.  This viewing is purely visual, and may be performed only once per object.


This spell may be cast in conjunction with the following spells, to great effect: True Seeing, Infravision, Ultravision, Detect Invisibility, Detect Illusion, or Detect Phase will allow the caster to purge subterfuges and camouflage from his vision. A Haste spell, cast on the reading material by touch, will double the viewing speed, thus providing the caster with twice as much information in the same amount of time.


Bhalakyne’s Bookmark is especially powerful in that it is immune to any detection on the part of the creature who last read the material, as the scrying occurs in the reader’s future, and thus cannot be detected during the reading. However, the reading material itself may, if it is magical, have (had) its own protections against Bhalakyne’s Bookmark.


Material components are an ordinary bookmark and a pearl. After the duration, the items remain fused, and become a mundane, ridiculously ornate bookmark which the caster might be able to sell for the original value of the pearl, if he finds some ostentatious fop who likes that sort of thing.

Image attribution:

The Gavelkind Greaves of Succession

Upon receiving a vision from Tyr of a terrible undead plague, Lord Brick the minotaur paladin decided that a refashioning of the greaves on his Plate Mail of Light was in order.

Firstly, the Greaves increase Brick’s MOV rate by 3.  Their primary effect, however, is achieved through a holy machination of Law and judgment, a protocol that is stippled into their design.  Constructed cleverly to overlap Brick’s Plate Mail of Light, the patterned whorls and holes in the Greaves allow light from Brick’s plate mail to slip through in very specific divine arrangements.  These arrangements enforce, with holy power, any agreement of will and estate established by those who touch them.


In practice, this means that any undead body that, while it was occupied by a living soul, had written up a testament dividing its earthly goods, must save vs. Petrification upon touching the Greaves.  Lawful or controlled undead make their saves at a -4 penalty.  On a fail, undead of HD 6 or less are logicked back into their resting places as normal corpses, by the very fact that their earthly goods have been passed on in accordance with their will, and therefore they, too, must have passed on.  Corpses so affected are shielded by Tyr’s grace from being raised again, unless the Greaves are destroyed.  Undead of HD 7 or higher that fail their saves receive 8d8 damage as though from Holy Water, and any controlling connection to them is severed.


On a pass, an undead of any level has its earthly goods returned to it immediately.  This might very well mean that a large wardrobe, several dozen books and letters, a crate of silverware, other various household goods, and the deed to the house itself appear in neat, ordered stacks and ranks around the undead.  Alternatively, if the deceased’s possessions weigh more than the deceased, the undead is transported to its possessions where they are in greatest concentration, and any scattered possessions join it in the same place.  This might mean that a zombie pops up, along with the contents of a hotel room, in the middle of an enclosure of grazing rothé.


In a society in which written deeds are not used, an undead would not receive the deed to his house, but rather be teleported to the house itself, popping up in its old favourite room.  Any current inhabitants are expelled by invisible force if they fail a saving throw vs spell, unless they were a lawful part of the deceased’s household during its life.


Having passed its save and had its possessions returned to it, there is a 70% chance that the undead will begin to put its possessions to everyday or practical use, by virtue of cell memory.  This figure might be adjusted up or down by up to 30% in accordance with the degree of degradation of the flesh (and therefore the function-memory of its composite cells), the WIS and level of the undead’s controller, or the undead’s inherent Lawful or Chaotic nature.  Popping up in his old study, an archaeologist’s corpse might begin leafing through dig blueprints, pointing at things and making sketches in the margins, without having any actual intelligent thought or reason behind the process.  The aforementioned zombie cattle-owner might start driving his rothé out to pasture, or simply fish out a cigar and start mechanically smoking it.  This behavior will carry on indefinitely, until the possessions are removed, the necromantic animation is dispelled, or the undead is otherwise turned or controlled.


The definition of a binding agreement of will and estate varies dependent on the society by which the creature, in life, was governed.  A pauper of negligible possessions in a bureaucratic and meticulously governed city might leave naught but a chewed-upon cow’s femur to his son.  If the transfer of ownership of animal wastes is not governed by processes of state, and there is furthermore no official documentation beyond tacit processes of inheritance to establish the son as the new owner, the cow’s femur does not render the pauper’s undead corpse vulnerable to the Greaves, and the undead will be immune.


By the same token, an undead Gnoll, having bequeathed the cow’s femur by way of tribal custom to his firstborn, would indeed be vulnerable to the workings of the Greaves.  No will or official documentation is necessary to make the process of succession binding, as the Gnoll’s governing society is devoid of such customs.


Failing its save, the Gnoll corpse would once more be lifeless.  Passing its save, the undead Gnoll would suddenly have the cow’s femur in its hand, and the tribal agreement of succession would be null and void.  In societies wherein such processes are governed by magical means, such as by a witch doctor or a board of clerics, said governors, wherever they are, are liable to feel the change, and perhaps infer that the deceased is no longer, or never was, deceased.


Animal societies may be valid in some cases as well.  If, by the law of the pack, the biggest male gets first pick of the bones and meat in a buried stash left by a deceased hyena, that hyena’s animated corpse would be vulnerable to the effect of the Greaves.


As a rule of thumb, within any group of animated corpses, 70% of them will have societally valid legacies, and will thus be vulnerable to the Greaves.  At the DM’s discretion, this may vary by up to 30%, based on the levels of bureaucracy, intelligence, ritual nature, lawfulness, and poverty, relative to each other, present in the source societies.


Regarding the specifications, provenance and maintenance of the Greaves:  They are crafted with tooled leather and platinum.  The leather was tanned from the underbelly of a golden dragon who, at Tyr’s behest, bequeathed it in his will unto Brick.  The dragon made the caravan arrangements for its transport to the Underdark through use of his innate Quest ability upon a willing troupe of merchants devoted to Tyr.  The platinum ingots were mined from Mount Celestia, and inserted into the heart of the dead dragon, then cut out three days later, weighed upon golden scales, smelted beneath the light of a crescent moon, and then forged into rivets, loops and screws upon a workbench whose surfaces were periodically soaked in holy water and sacred oils.


The greaves are a +2 item for the purposes of magical item saving throws, but do not stack with the +2 AC bonus granted by the Plate Mail of Light.  They weigh 20 pounds together, and engirdle Brick’s legs up to just below the hip, fitting snugly around the ankles of his Boots of Striding.  Each Greave’s total length is 4 feet.


The magic of the Greaves will not work under a shroud of Darkness, or through dense cloth or some other obscuring material, as its performance is dependent upon an exactingly detailed play of light from the plate mail and through the Greaves into open air.  Any damage done to the Greaves will similarly negate their effect until such time as a sufficiently skilled devotee of Tyr can repair them.

Astral Lenses

Image(image attribution

Astral Lenses allow 3 creatures the combined ability to perform a “Portage” into a parallel Timestream.  The Lenses are layered to form the dark colour spectrum (red, green, and blue).  Single or double Lenses will only allow a small window into the parallel Timestream, and that window will be limited.  A creature will be able to reach his hand out at arm’s length through a single or double Astral Lens, but he won’t be able to see, touch or retrieve just anything.  Simply putting one’s hand into an alternate Timestream without preamble also carries its own dangers: A creature doing so must also save vs. Positive-Plane energy poisoning.

The Colours and What They Do

Through a Green lens, organic matter will be clear and tangible.  Through a Red lens, spirits, souls, and other cruces of sentience will be clear and tangible (assuming the PC has the ability to see or touch such entities to begin with).  Through a Blue lens, mineral or inert material will be clear and tangible.

Note that selective viewing through one Lens will not allow a creature to see through entities viewable only by another Lens.  Wielding a Green Lens and purposefully eschewing the Blue Lens will not allow a creature to see a body behind a stone wall.  Instead, the wall will be represented by a formless mass of shadow, and will block sight to the other side as a wall normally would.  If anything, the Lenses restrict sight even more, as even a clear glass windowpane would be an obscuring mass of shadow when not viewed through the Blue Lens.

How Do I Get One?

An Astral Lens, though it can be a physical object, is typically a magical anomaly existing only in the vision of a creature so endowed.  Typically, only demigods, archmages of chronomancy, or high priests of the Elven god of time Labelas Enoreth, would be gifted with (or capable of procuring or wielding) more than one Lens.  Some possible other ways to procure a Lens are:

1)      to subject oneself to repeated blasts of Positive-Plane energy filtered through carefully aligned crystal prisms, after many years of careful study on their position and timing.  Though the theories documented by chronomancers for this procedure are sound, only one archmage in history has actually survived the process.  He went hopelessly mad, and is currently busy killing off versions of himself in parallel Timestreams and eating their brains.

2)      to contract a form of degenerative illness known in wizardly circles as metacausal ague.  People in direct causal relation to events or persons that have been erased from the Timestream often contract this, as their minds wither under a spectral gamma-storm of existential reshuffling.  It’s never healthy to be caught in the crossfire when the Universe rights itself.

3)      to be thrown by divine force into another Timestream without warning.

4)      to cross Timestreams so often that, eventually, one can only exist in the dark spectrum that straddles all Timestreams.  Such unfortunate creatures live within their Lens, and are unable to fully corporealize in any single Timestream.  Reality for these beings is a confusing blur of infinite causal branches.  They wade downstream through a realm of exponentially dilating probability and commensurately contracting Time, never able to actually engage with any of it.  Eventually, as they crawl downstream and expand to encompass hundreds and even thousands of Timestreams, they slow to the point of crystallizing, and become vast prismatic libraries documenting their own last living moments through each Timestream.  Chronomancers refer to these horizon-spanning corpse-artefacts of frozen probability as the Bridges of Prophecy, and speak in reverence of the sheer weight of algorithmic knowledge that could be extrapolated from a thorough decoding of their panoramic surfaces.  It is theorized that one could gather enough probabilistic data to predict the future with great accuracy in any given Timestream, if one could only survive long enough between Timestreams without suffering the same fate as one’s object of study.

The Layering

In order to access other Timestreams with at least a small measure of safety, one must layer multiple Astral Lenses, one of each colour.  When these Lenses are layered together, they can be expanded in the shared mind’s eye of the creatures that own them, to form an Area of Effect within which the creatures may operate for a short time in a parallel Timestream.  Things will be slightly different within this parallel Timestream.  People will have made different choices, created and destroyed different things, etc.  These changes will generally regress to something similar to your own Timestream, given time, thus containing wild ripple effects that could cause major divergences over the course of centuries.  However, that is not to say that they are not without impact for the PCs.  Certain NPCs might be alive, where before they were not.  Certain wars or skirmishes might have been lost or averted, public figures will be in varied standing and demeanor, etc.

The process of creating and entering this Area of Effect is referred to as a Portage.  The Portage is performed with a variation on Blackjack rules.  Each player will be dealt two cards, one face-down below another face-up.  The players will try to get as close to 21 as possible without going over.  Face cards are 11, and Aces are 1 or 11, player’s choice.  The DM will not deal any cards to herself at first.

Each player in turn says either “Hit me”, “Hold”, or “Reveal”.  Unlike regular Blackjack, a player cannot receive more than one card in his turn.  When all 3 players have gone, one round has passed in game time.

Whenever a player says “hit me”, the DM can also deal herself a card.  If that card is equal to no more than half the value of another player’s top card (rounded up), she can hit the player’s stack with it, thus increasing that player’s total score.

Holding or Revealing does not prevent a player from performing any of the 3 actions on their next turn.


Each player will have a target figure equal to 21 – (½ level), rounded up.  For example, a Level 7 player’s target figure is 17.  When a player’s score reaches or exceeds this figure, he can choose to Reveal on his turn.  The first player to Reveal immediately draws 1m2 on the map.  This is the beginning of the Area of Effect.

After the first Reveal, whenever a player that has Revealed has a turn, he may spend his degree of success on either meters squared or duration.  For example, our 7th level character Reveals at 18 and lays down 1m2 on the map.  On his next turn, he Holds, and can lay down an addition 1m2 and purchase 1 round of duration, or lay down 2m2, or buy 2 rounds of duration.  The turn after, he bravely says “Hit me” and, lucky dog that he is, gets a 2.  This brings his score to 20, 3 higher than the base success, which means he has a degree of success of 4 to spend on meters squared or duration.

The danger of Revealing earlier than the other players is that the DM can still hit you with cards half as low as your top card, and push you over 21.  To avoid this, try to end with low cards.

On scoring 21, the degree of success is counted as double.  Our 7th level guy would be laying down 10 points into AoE and duration each turn!

Click Your Heels, Dorothy!

When all 3 players Hold consecutively, the ritual is complete, the cards put away, and the PCs alight into the AoE through no force of their own, drifting serenely through the Portage and into the other Timestream, eyes flashing a dazzling convergence of Red, Blue and Green.  The duration countdown begins.  The players can move and act freely within the other Timestream for their earned duration.  Other creatures of this or the other Timestream will not notice the Portage or the AoE, unless they too possess Lenses.  They will, however, notice the players’ (dis)appearance.

The Portage uses an Anchor on the other side.  This can be either an object or a person.  The AoE will move with the Anchor, should the Anchor change position.  When the duration ends, every creature in contact with the Anchor will be jerked back into the PCs’ Timestream.

If a PC (or any thing or creature they brought with them) comes into contact with the edge of the AoE, they are immediately vaporized by Positive-Plane energy.  Creatures and PCs level 5 or higher may make a saving throw versus spell; if they pass, they instead lose two random limbs and take 5d8 Positive-Plane energy damage.  Creatures immune to Positive-Plane energy may pass through at will.

But Wait… What Happens Over 21?

Scoring over 21 is a consistently horrible thing to do.  All scores over 21 must be Revealed immediately, and their effects are resolved at once, before turns are continued.

  • At 22, the players must take STR checks or get sucked in.  The offending player makes his check with a +4 penalty.  The ritual ends immediately, but the Portage can still be completed as long as either all or none of the players passed their STR checks.  If only 1 or 2 of the players got sucked in, the Portage closes and they are stranded on the other side.
  • At 23, 2d10 denizens of the Astral are attracted to the Portage, and swarm around the AoE.  There is a 50/50 chance of them appearing in the one or the other Timestream, and the players will not be able to tell which.  They will not be able to break through into the AoE until the duration ends, at which point the PCs are either holding the Anchor or not.
  • At 24, the target Timestream is switched out with another Timestream.
  • At 25, 2d8 random creatures belonging to the other Timestream who have or will, in the course of past or future, pass(ed) through the AoE, are pulled out of their own place in the Timestream and into the present, within the AoE.
  • At 26, the party, their AoE and their Portage are teleported to a random world location.
  • At 27, each PC rolls up a Wild Surge.  The offending player rolls up 2.
  • At 28, the Portage’s Anchor on the other side is changed to a random creature or object within the AoE.  The players will know that something is wrong with the Anchor, as it will suddenly be grey.  The ritual ends immediately, and the players are pulled in so long as there is at least 1 round’s duration.  In order to spot the new Anchor, all three must look directly at it at the same time.  Coordinating their gazes requires 1 round per target.
  • At 29, the ritual ends immediately, and each player is blinded by an intensely hot, supernova-grade light for 1d4 rounds and blasted with 5d8 Positive-Plane energy damage.  They can save vs Breath Weapon for half damage.  The offending player gets 10d8 damage.  Those who critically fail their save (by 4 or more) must also follow the saving throw procedure for Positive-Plane energy poisoning. This blast of radiation is merely an echo of what happens inside the AoE in the other Timestream.  Everything within a 5m radius of the Anchor is atomized as though it had come into direct contact with the Positive Material Plane.  Even the landscape, the air, everything in a 5m sphere is nullified.  The anchor itself survives, and has a 50% chance of being pulled into the PCs’ Timestream.  From 5m and out to the edges of the AoE, if any edges go beyond 5m, all vegetation is vaporized, and all creatures receive 10d8 Positive-Plane energy damage.  Those who fail their saves must follow the saving throw procedure for Positive-Plane energy poisoning (think I’ve spammed that enough now).
  • At 30, Labelas Enoreth, the Elven god of Time, sends an archangel with a +5 flaming longsword to destroy the offender for having so abused his power.  The archangel will ignore the other party members unless attacked by them.  If the offender immediately falls to his knees and offers his neck, there is a 50% chance that the angel will instead deliver him to Labelas’ throne room for judgment.
  • At 31, roll 1d4+1d6+20 and use this result.  Do this twice.
  • At 32, the offender ascends immediately to godhood.

The Jokers

If the DM hits a player with a Joker, step 31 is immediately invoked.  If the DM draws a Joker to her own stack, the AoE becomes omnipresent, and the duration becomes permanent until dispelled by all 3 players grabbing the Anchor to return to their own Timestream.  They can, in effect, wander the other Timestream indefinitely.  However, should the Anchor be destroyed, they would die with it, and atomize everything within 5m of them as per #29.


The Mythical White Lens

Legend speaks of a being of the Timestreams whose mind holds in its eye a White Lens.  This being was once a human scholar who had spent far too long crossing Timestreams and became trapped.  He somehow avoided the inevitable fate of crystallizing into a Bridge of Prophecy, and now he assumes a plethora of potential forms simultaneously, but is bound by none of them.  His/her/its perception of reality and the flow of time is so profoundly esoteric that engaging him in conversation would be utterly impossible.  They say he wanders in and out of important moments in history and in futures past, gibbering and unleashing the occasional wild surge in a seizure of transcendent chronomancy.

According to theoretical chronomancers, a White Lens would render the Weave of magic itself clear and tangible.  If this is correct, this being, referred to in legend simply as the White Lens, can cast magic in multiple Timestreams and at multiple points in history, most probably with no control whatsoever, and without actually entering the real Multiverse.  Some fringe theorists even speculate that his very presence ripples back to the birth of the Multiverse, and that he serves as the unwitting primogenitor of the Plane of Limbo and, by extension, of Chaos itself as a supra-abstract entity.

Positive-Plane Energy Poisoning

So this is one for those familiar with the multiverse of Planes in Forgotten Realms etc.  I’ve equated energy from the Positive Material Plane with radiation, and thus whipped up a nifty little series of horrific saves for creatures thus inflicted.

Creatures subject to Positive-Plane energy poisoning make the following poison saves, moving down the list each round until a save is made.  Each failed save accumulates a -1 penalty on future saves.

Short-Term:  (each round)

1.  Confusion (as per spell)
2.  Bleeding from all orifices for 3 turns (1 Wound Check/round)*
3.  Unconsciousness.

Long-Term:  (each morning)

4.  Bone marrow dessication, -3 DEX permanently

5.  Fever for 1d4 days, -1 WIS per day permanently
6.  Hair loss, -1 CHA (-4 for Dwarves)
7.  Continued Bleeding 1d4 days (1 Wound Check/turn)*

Endgame:  (each tenday)

8.  Eye cataracts, rapid degeneration results in permanent blindness in 1d10 days

9.  A Vomiting, 3-hour-long death.

Cure Disease, Remove Curse, Neutralize Poison, Slow Poison and other restorative magics will have no bearing on the practical effects of failed poison saves, with two exceptions:  Regeneration will cure 4), 6), and 8), and healing spells will still heal damage.  If the victim dies, the body will remain irradiated for 1d10 years, and will thus be forced to continue with the checks where he left off if resurrected.  However, once a save is made, there is no need to make further checks as long as the creature leaves the irradiated AoE within 1 turn.

Recuperation from that point requires a number of tendays equal to the last save’s number on the list.  For example, having saved successfully from eye cataracts, a creature would still have to spend 8 tendays recovering.  Any strenuous effort during this time causes a creature to have to start from the top of the list again, with a cumulative save penalty equal to the number of weeks of recovery left.

*Wound Checks are referring to my Houserule Wounds system  The HP equivalent to a Wound Check would be something like 1 to 3 HP in this case.

Amaranthine Font of Enduring Maledictions

This ridiculous encounter idea is inspired by Dyson’s Dodecahedron, and his wonderful random curses table, and much of the meat of his table remains, although I’ve ditched a lot of the numbers-based effects and made it a bit more fluffy.


This large obsidian fountain is a source of cursed water.  Anybody who comes into bodily contact with the water will be subject to a Curse upon failing a saving throw vs poison.  The water may be taken in flasks and stored, either with precise instruments, or a DEX check.

The Font itself doesn’t tolerate the touch of thinking creatures, and will unleash a Wild Surge when touched.  It has 100 HP, and will unleash a Wild Surge for every HP it loses.  It regenerates at a rate of 1 HP/round.  The Font seems to possess a queer intelligence, and is guided by mysterious motives.  For the purposes of spellcasting and saving throws, it is considered to be a 20th level mage, and has the following spell-like abilities:

-Teleport w/o Error (3/day)

-Globe of Invulnerability (3/day)

-Spell Snare (50% chance)

-Magic Resistance (75%)

The Curses!

These Curses are for the most part permanent, but can be negated by destroying the Font, killing the poisoner, or allowing the Font to Curse you once again, which undoes the previous Curse (as if undone with a Wish).  Remove Curse, Dispel Magic, Heal, etc will not work; no standard spell short of a full Wish can undo a Curse from the Font.  Roll on the following tables to determine the exact nature of the Curse.

Level of Curse (d12)

1.                         Feeble Curse, partially successful*

2-4.                     Feeble Curse

5.                         Minor Curse, partially successful*

6-7.                     Minor Curse

8.                         Major Curse, partially successful*

9-10.                   Major Curse

11.                        Holy Crap Curse, partially successful*

12.                       Holy Crap Curse

*Partially successful curses exhibit some flaw.  Either they are only somewhat effective, or there is an obvious or non-magical way to dispel or reverse them.  An alternate method of lifting a Curse should resonate with the nature of the Curse.  For example, one must work as a hairdresser for a full lunar cycle in order to lift a hair-loss Curse.

Feeble Curses (d12)

  1. Hair falls out and doesn’t grow back.
  2. -1 to spell saving throws.
  3. Lose 1d4 random prepared spells and erase them from your spellbook.
  4. Any spell you cast has a 5% chance of target randomization.
  5. Monster Magnet:  Hostile creatures of animal intelligence always attack you first.
  6. You become convinced that one minor item is a very important magic item, and will not part with it.  If you lose the item, lose 1d4 Sanity, and then erase the Curse.
  7. Shrunken legs/wings/etc: Reduce movement speed by half.
  8. Rupophobia: Fear of dirt and filth.
  9. Halitosis (-3 CHA when face to face).
  10. You are now blue.
  11. Lose 3 Sanity instantly.
  12. The Curse backfires, the Font or the would-be poisoner takes 1d12 positive energy damage.


Minor Curses (d12)

  1. Gradually change race to a random humanoid race (CONd10 days).
  2. You are struck blind, deaf, or dumb (1d3).
  3. Astral Metahydration:  Rain, fog, and other precipitation deal you 1d12 damage per turn until you hit 0, at which point you don’t die, but are transported to a random plane.
  4. Erectile dysfunction or sterility.
  5. Your body undergoes a painful sex change over the course of the next 1d12 days.
  6. You are afflicted with “fading sickness”.  Once every hour, there is a 1% chance that you will spend the next hour invisible, as per the Improved Invisibility spell.  For each invisible hour, add 1% to the next roll’s chance.  When the chance is 100%, you become a Ghost.
  7. Drop whatever you are holding whenever you roll the minimum result on any die.
  8. You must always tell the truth
  9. Violence angst:  Lose 1 Sanity whenever you touch a weapon or witness combat.
  10. Rash as per Irritation spell
  11. Your hands and your feet switch places.
  12. The Curse backfires, the Font or the would-be poisoner takes 2d12 positive energy damage.


Major Curses (d12)

  1. Polymorph into a frog or other harmless animal
  2. One magic item disappears
  3. You are now stalked by a Ghost (GM discretion).
  4. Lose one level (as if struck by a wight)
  5. Wounds take twice as long to heal, healing spells are only half as effective
  6. Whenever you deal melee damage, you receive the same damage in negative energy.
  7. Cannot sleep – therefore cannot heal naturally, nor prepare spells
  8. Lose all spells in one random school.  Those spells can never be relearned.
  9. Double vision – all targets are treated as having the benefit of displacement
  10. Struck deaf, blind and mute
  11. Theophobia:  Whenever you see a priest, a holy symbol, or any other god-or religion-related item, creature, or thing, you must save vs. Fear or drop what you are holding and run in a random direction for 1d20 rounds.  If you are a priest, you lose all priest levels, and immediately suffer 2d4 Sanity.
  12. The Curse backfires, the Font or the would-be poisoner takes 3d12 positive energy damage.

Holy Crap Curses (d12)

  1. Every time you kill a sentient creature, save versus death or join him in death.  Your body remains in stasis, surrounded by a Forcecage, and you cannot be resurrected until you escort his soul to its next life.
  2. A Demon is given half your Constitution (rounded up), and holds it hostage until you perform a task for him.
  3. Automatically fail all saving throws, and lose all magic resistance.
  4. Feebleminded!  3 INT.
  5. Can not wear armour or clothing, or use weapons or any devices
  6. Can only breathe in water, or only breathe air for aquatic targets
  7. All damage received is tripled.
  8. You age 1d6 years every time you express the desire or intent to take a life.
  9. All valuables owned by the character are turned to lead and paste.
  10. Disintegrated!
  11. d6+1 companions or friends & family are subjected to Major Curses (above)
  12. The Curse backfires, the Font or the would-be poisoner takes 4d12 positive energy damage