Junkernaughts, Serums, Addiction

In the dark pits of the Misshaper's lairs, metal is grafted onto the bodies of the unwise and the unwary. Their forms are twisted and warped, a Cage of metal built around them, and horrendous drugs and concoctions forced through their screaming veins.
Those that survive emerge reborn, a living nightmare; taller than a man, girded in metal, and dread Serums running through their bodies granting them powers far beyond the natural. They are the warriors of the Misshapers, their great and most terrifying weapon.

Hit Die: d8
Saves: As fighter
Attack Bonus: 1/2 level (rounding up)

At first level, Junkernaughts gain an additional hit die, which is a d4. At further levels, they can gain additional hit die of this sort, but it costs 10% of the xp requirement of that level in gold to create.
HP from these additional hit die cannot be regained normally. They must be rebuilt at a rate of 1 per hour with a cost of 10gp per hit point.
Additionally, Junkernaughts cannot wear most armour, save that which is specially commissioned for their bulky frame, and they can never wear heavy armour at all. Commissioning special armour for a Junkernaught can cost anywhere between double and 10 times the regular cost, depending on the area.

At first level, Junkernaughts have three Vials incorporated into their cage, and can gain an additional vial every third level, with a cost equal in gold pieces equal to half the xp requirement of that level.
Each vial holds a use of a Serum, from the Serum list. At first level, a Junkernaught has three uses of random Serums already in their vials, and an additional use of a random Serum in their inventory.
At any time, a Junkernaught can inject themselves with the Serum in one of their Vials, with no action cost.

Junkernaughts are well adapted to the biological torture of long-term Serum exposure, and can resist the dreadful stains of addiction more easily than common men. When a Junkernaught would turn a Mark into a Stain, they may make a Constituion(/Poison) Save. If they succeed, the Mark does not become a Stain.


All Serums have a duration of 10 minutes.
If a Serum is imbibed whilst under the effects of another Serum, you must succeed on a Constitution(/Poison) save, or roll on the Reflux Table.
Users of Serum are also at risk of Addicition.
None of the effects of a Serum are magical, though spells like Remove Poison, or those with similar effects can suspend or remove the effects.
1 - Rage
For one minute, you gain +3 to your Strength modifier, for the remainder of the duration, you have a -3 penalty to your strength modifier.
2 - Surge
For one minute, you are affected as if by a Haste spell, for the remainder of the duration, you are affected as if by a Slow spell.
3 - Spew
For one minute, for your turn you may make a Constution(/Poison) Saving Throw. If you fail you do a sick-nasty burp. If you succeed, you spew forth a 15 foot breath weapon, dealing 2d6 + level damage, with a save to halve the damage. For the remainder of the duration you have disadvantage on all rolls for physical activity due to weakness. You must also eat an additional day's worth of rations when you next eat.
4 - Spark
For one minute, your touch becomes electric from massive static build-ups. You send people flying with an electric crack from the barest blow, and you can melt small metal objects with prolonged contact. This applies to everything around you, whether you want it to or not. For the remainder of the duration you become heavily polarised, and no metal can touch you at all, except that which is worked into your body, such as your cage.
5 - Mend
For one minute, you regain 1 hit point per hit die each round. For the remainder of the duration, all damage you take is rolled twice, and you take the higher result.
6 - Envision
For one minute, you can see everything! You can also see invisible creatures, spiritual beings, lies, diseases, and murderous thoughts, as long as it isn't behind more than one wall.
For the remainder of the duration, you are blind to everything more than a couple of feet away from you.
7 - Gel
For one minute, you become like, super sticky. You can climb on (almost) any surface, including upside down. Anything that touches you, even limbs and weapons, will require a strength check to remove from you. For the remainder of the duration, you just absolutely reek of glue and alcohol, and anything with a functioning nose can easily track where you have been.
8 - Bouyance
For one minute, you float through the air as long as you aren't over-encumbered, gaining about 10 feet of altitude each round, with only minimal, limb-powered maneuverability. For the remainder of the duration, you sink about 5 feet every round. If you are on the ground, your movement speed is halved as you feel just incredibly heavy.
9 - Spines
For one minute, you can grow spines from your wrists into empty hands, which detach easily, and can be used like throwing knives, though it costs you 1 hit point each time you do. You may do this at most twice per round. For the remainder of the duration, you have a 1 in 6 chance to take 1 damage as spines randomly burst from your flesh, painfully.
10 - Echo
For one minute, you gain delicate echo-location senses. For the remainder of the duration, any loud noise will stun you for a round.


Roll a d10 when instructed to.
1 - The Second Serum imbibed has no effect, and you Mutate.
2 - Refresh the duration of the first Serum you took, and the second has no effect.
3 - Both Serums take effect, though you can't benefit from them again for 1 week.
4 - Both Serums take effect, and you take damage equal to your level.
5 - Both Serums take effect, and you Mutate.
6 - You suffer the negative effects of both Serums for the next 10 minutes.
7 - Cancel the effects of both Serums and Mutate twice.
8 - You benefit from both Serums, but their negative effects last for an hour instead.
9 - Both Serums take effect, and you gain the effects of a random third Serum too.
10 - Neither Serum effects you, you gain the effects of two random Serums (reroll duplicate serums once, but after that the results stand).


Keep a track of which Serum you use the most. If it is a tie between more than one, pick one.
Each time you imbibe a Serum, add a mark to your Addiction Track. When you have a night's sleep, erase half of your Marks, and one of your Marks becomes a Stain, which is a permanent type of Mark.
If your Marks and Stains ever total more than your Constitution Score, you are Addicted to the Serum you use most often. You are Addicted until you have less total Marks than your Constitution Score, and you have no Stains.
While you are addicted, you only remove one Mark each day, and you suffer the effects of a random Addiction Trait. The Serum you imbibe the most is your Addictive Serum.
Addiction Traits
1 - Longing: You are always under your Serum's negative effect, though you suffer no negative effects while Imbibing it.
2 - Voracity: You suffer a hunger, deep and fierce. You require 2d4 day's rations every day. A dose of your Addictive Serum is worth d4 rations. Human flesh, about an arm's worth, sates all of it.
3 - Frailty: The addiction wracks your frame. You suffer 1 damage each time you use a serum that isn't your Addictive Serum, and each time you take damage from another source.
4 - Restlessness: You must take a dose of your Addictive Serum to gain the effects of rest.
5 - Reshaping: Each day that you don't take a dose of your Addictive Serum, Mutate.
6 - Dulled Senses: You always lose initiative if you don't imbibe your Addictive Serum as a part of rolling for initiative. You will always be surprised when the situation demands it unless you imbibe your Addictive Serum.
7 - Crazed Visage: You roll for reaction rolls when interacting personally with people with disadvantage. If you are part of a party whilst rolling for reaction, it is rolled with a -1 modifier instead. This is nullified whilst you are affected by your Addictive Serum.
8 - Benign: You got off lightly. You are irritable, and struggle to sleep, but otherwise there are no adverse effects, except that you don't gain the positive effects of Serums you imbibe while addicted.

The Alchemist's Manor

The Alchemist Arnault Roftengirt passed away peacefully in his sleep. His house however, has passed into chaos and horror.

Adventure Overview

As far as is known, Arnault was something of a recluse anyway, and was never really seen around town, only his manservant, Jeeves. Recently thought, many of his house-servants have left his service, saying that he has gone slightly mad in his old age.
In truth, his obsession with Alchemy drove them away, and he came this close to achieving his Magnum Opus before old age claimed him. 
Since then, all the various bottled terrors and demons of science have broken free from their restraints, and the house is now a veritable death-trap.
Though a deathtrap that also happens to be full of the riches of a retired noble and accomplished alchemist...

Terrors of the Manor

1 - The Quicksilver Serpent
A great roiling serpent of purest mercury, it surges throughout the house when roused, engulfing and crushing with its flowing poison-flesh.
For the most part it is happy to remain in its vat, but vibrations bother it, and the greater the vibration, the greater the Serpent's anger. The source of its life is a chunk of alchemically treated stone, carved with runes, and infused with strange aethers. It cannot be subdued unless the stone is removed from its head.

2 - The Formless One
It tries its best to look human. Perhaps it was once, but not any more.
The unfortunate result of alchemical run-offs and by-products carelessly disposed of. Its flesh warps and flows, and can with only a few minutes observation, perfectly (for the most part) mimic another humanoid creature. It only lasts a few minutes, but until it breaks down, most would not be able to tell the creature apart from the original; except for one major difference. The Formless One stinks to high heaven of ammonia. It is well aware of this fact, and tries to hide this from potential prey by remaining in areas that already reek of alchemical compounds.

3 - Poor Old Jeeves
The much used and abused butler of the household in his time has had to clean up alchemical accidents, nurse the old alchemist back to health after said accidents, and quietly 'dispose' of numerous failed experiments. These days, he finds his own health in a state of some flux, though he still dutifully conducts his tasks throughout and around the chaos of the grounds.
His skin is black and brown and bubbling, more oil and grease than meat. His eyes have gone too, replaced with ever weeping pools of sickly yellow gel. He can't tell that you're a person, he just sees you as another mess to clear up, and he's awfully good at clearing away messes with his terrible, inhuman strength.
Luckily for you, he won't kill you. Unluckily for you, he'll probably dump you in with the Menagerie...

4 - The Aqua Regiad (The Acid Nymph)
She luxuriates in her steaming chamber, constrained by glass to contain the worst of the vapours she sloughs off.
An elemental spirit of some maddeningly specific facet of nature, summoned by Arnault, and contained for future conversation and general chit-chat, being one of the few people Arnault ever saw whom he wasn't paying to be there. Even now, her inhuman nature is content with the quiet, though she would certainly appreciate some actually coherent company. Even better if she could ever find a way out of her containment...

5 - The Menagerie
They are twisted and pathetic. Their skin bubbles and wriggles against their crooked bones, and their hair seems to float across their bodies. The results of Arnault's final experiments in his infirmity, they are utterly wretched, and Jeeves the Butler couldn't quite bring himself to burn them alive after blade and poison didn't kill them. Now they languish in the cellars in cages too small for them and with all possible food gone. Some have resorted to auto-cannibalism in their desperation.

These shall be the Table for generating them:
1 - Only ragged arms
2 - Many faceted legs
3 - Long, thin hooks of nail
4 - Oozing and heaving
5 - Legs like peoples', almost
6 - On all fours, animal like
Method of Attack
1 - Retractable Teeth-Spears
2 - Claws and Teeth
3 - Caustic Bile
4 - Jutting rib-cage maws
5 - Formless flesh-gloop
6 - Constriction with boneless arms
1 - Huge, weeping, and misshapen eyes
2 - Its flesh is all but gone from where its mouth can reach
3 - Bones protrude from flesh
4 - Boils and blisters cover it
5 - It spouts many useless, vestigle limbs
6 - Its flesh has all but abandoned it
Useful Mutation
1 - Gribbly insect wings
2 - Sensitive detecto-whiskers
3 - Constantly spills slippery oil
4 - Contortionist rubber-bones
5 - Poisoned gas-bladders
6 - Extra, actually useful limbs

6 - The Corruption
Like tiny feather-shreds of black glass, it creeps and grows like mold throughout a section of the Manor, contained for now by the last few efforts Arnault made before he succumbed to age. It is a result of his effort in achieving his ultimate goals [see the Magnum Opus], which he of course, never fully realised. Exposure to the Corruption is not immediately fatal luckily, but it is slow, insidious, and secretive. The explosive finale where the black flakes and spines erupt from your skin and take you over entirely will not occur until you least expect it. Its almost as if the Corruption plots against you to find the opportune moment to strike. Almost.

Hazards of the Manor

1 - Crystal-Grass
Crystals are odd things, and during his initial experiments with them, Arnault created this strange, self-replicating formation. It grows only slowly, but over the years it has infested a goodly portion of the house. It is far sharper than it looks (and it looks terribly sharp), though a good strong brush will clear it out, even if it means the destruction of the brush...

2 - Melt-Haze Mold
A spongy kind of mold that bloats itself on specially prepared surfaces, that ran rampant when Arnault, in his infirmity, spilt the mixture that would allow its spread. The air around it shimmers and shines subtely, and is dreadfully corrosive to organic matter. Luckily, all that is needed to undo this dreadful hazard, is a stiff breeze. Blowing away the vapours allows safe passsage for 10 minutes, while the Mold replenishes the dissolving mists. Alternatively, a thin film of any inorganic matter will also protect you from the mists, and applying this cover to the mold will kill it in only a few minutes, though it must be nearly airtight at least.

3 - The Tree of Life
At first, you would be forgiven for assuming that it was a tree, but the fruit it produces are too soft and meaty to be real fruit. Within each fruit-sac a fetus-thing slowly grows and develops. No-one yet can tell what they will become, but surely it can't be anything good. Damaging the sacs with an edged or piercing tool or weapon bursts it prematurely, releasing a smattering of soft flesh and acidic fluids. Other weapons deal insignificant damage to the squidgy sacs.
What lies within?
1 - Tiny people, with strong and strange telekentic powers, and a deep set hatred of humanity.
2 - Wolf-like things with tentacle mouths, they will steal babies to hatch eggs in.
3 - A thin serpent of green and pallid flesh. It can burrow into flesh to wrap around the spinal chord, and pilot the helpless person like a meat puppet.
4 - Uncountable spiders with a single hive mind, their task is to retrieve prey to feed the tree.
5 - Clones of Arnault, with dark and twisted ambitions and minds, and all his vast knowledge.
6 - Seeds of the Corruption.

4 - The Old Lab
Beakers, vials, metal boxes, glass tubes in all shapes and configurations, tomes, grimoires, incunabula; Arnault spared no expense in stocking his laboratory. Unfortunately, in his old age he left much of it in long-term experiments that he swiftly forgot about and neglected. The descent of his lab has only accelerated since his death. Even the smallest touch could have drastic effects.

5 - Vitae Storms
Clouds of ever-billowing purple-tinted smoke, shaped like people. Small arcs of lightning crackle and snap within. They don't move, unless you touch them, then they mirror you. Only strong winds can disperse them away from you once you touch them. Don't go inside them, or you'll crackle up into burnt meat.

6 - Bubbling Doom
Spilt vats of glinting powder, harmless, unless inhaled. Its effects won't manifest straight away, but in the weeks to come, you will hack up lumps of your lungs, slowly giving in to asthma, and eventually suffocation on your own liquefying lungs. There are masks which allow safe handling of the stuff in the Old Lab, and of course, its perfectly safe to handle as long as you don't breathe...

Treasures of the Manor

1 - Fool's Gold
It looks almost, but not quite like it. It would take an expert to be able to distinguish it though.
1 ounce of Fool's Gold is as valuable as an ounce of Gold, to those who can't tell the difference.

2 - Vials of Alchemical Products
Mysterious vials of equally mysterious liquids? Probably quite valuable.
What does this vial do?
1 - Heady fumes; enough to get you high for a good hour.
2 - A viscous, and terribly staining, ink.
3 - A minor explosive, enough to knock someone down.
4 - Apparently nothing... roll twice more if mixed with another vial.
5 - Bottled blood.
6 - Glows when shaken. Burns on contact with air.
7 - A powerful (if gritty) antiseptic.
8 - Steams a huge amount when mixed with water.
9 - Fizzes and sparks when exposed to air.
10 - Just water. Colourful water.
11 - Horrifyingly potent acid.
12 - Mutagenic, make a constitution save. On a fail, gain a menagerie patheticism. On a success, gain a menagerie useful mutation.

3 - Roftengirt Heirlooms
Potentially there are other branches of Arnault's family who might pay for these. At the very least, there must be collectors who would cough up for them.
Each heirloom is either a trinket, or a trophy. Trinkets take up no inventory space, each trophy takes up 1 inventory slot.
Trinkets are worth d6-1 gp each.
Trophies are worth 2d6 x 10 gp each.

4 - Arnault's Alchemical Notes
His works were extensive before his untimely demise. There must certainly be dozens of stable recipes scattered around the house, and many more pages of unfinished projects beside that still fit for fiddling with.
By using Arnault's notes, you can speed up one of your alchemy projects. The notes begin with a rating of 6. Each time you wish to use the notes, roll a d6. If the result is equal to or less than the Note's rating, you cut the time and costs required for the project by half, as Arnault has already performed much of the work for you. Then, decrease the Note's rating by 1 if it was successful.
The Note's effect can be used whenever you perform that project as well, but on subsequent attempts, it only halves the time cost of a project.

5 - The Distillation Knife
This is a rather rare and exceptionally well-made tool of alchemy. Its specific purpose is to, rather than cut things into pieces, to separate them on a chemical level into their component parts. Slicing a loaf of bread would not result in slices of bread, but piles of flour, maybe a bit of sugar, some yeast, a puddle, etc. Nothing is beyond the capabilities of the knife, though more complex materials take more time to separate. Harming a living being with one would take minutes of plunging the knife into them, slowly bubbling them away; hardly worth the effort.

6 - The Formalline Lense
The other half of a Distillation Knife, and apparently unique in all the world, Arnault's true masterpiece and legacy. It allows you to see things as their constituent alchemical parts, ripe to be separated with the Knife.

Alchemical Products

1 - Alkahest
The universal solvent, it requires a talented alchemist to construct a container that you can remove the glue from. Once applied, it indelibly binds two surfaces together. Onyl Sovereign Glue can separate them after that.

2 - Sovereign Glue
The exact opposite of Alkahest. Also requires a skilled alchemist to create a container that won't fall apart while containing it. Reverses all reactions, separates all binds, key component of Distillation Knives.

3 - Gilting Oil
When applied, leaves a material stained a slick brown. When dried, it appears to all eyes to be gold. Even to experts. It wears off after about a year, or after exposure to alcohol.

4 - Liquid Crystal-Grass
Takes a minute to set, by once poured, will harden into a slightly cloudy crystal that is just as hard as glass, but also half as brittle. Viscous enough to pour into rough 3D shapes too, but very rough shapes. Runny enough to spoil most details without great skill and/or constant tooling.

5 - Rejuvenation Salts
When dissolved in water, one dose of Rejuvenation Salts creates a tonic which has the same effects as a potion of healing. Desperately hard to create, a key ingredient is serpent scales.

6 - Withering Stone
The opposite of Rejuvenation Salts. Even mere physical contact withers and desiccates living tissues. Swallowing one would be terribly painful, and almost certainly lethal. Similarly tricky to create as rejuvenation salts, a key ingredient is ferret bone.

Alchemical Equipment

Every machine described here is present in the Manor somewhere, but only one has Arnault's masterpiece in or near it, according to his specialism.

1 - The Psuedo-Resonator
Part observatory, part crystal sphere, part dream-occulum; no-one is quite sure what it really does, or how it does it, but its uses are documented, and the instructions are followed, and the results occur, and everyone is mostly happy about it. Putting your head into it is like the most incredible high, hallucinations, strange sensations, sudden revelations, the whole bit. It also requires a saving throw or reorder your mental statistics due to mind-scrambling.
If Arnault had an Abstract specialisation, the shard of the Philosopher's Stone is within the Psuedo-Resonator.

2 - Ioniser/Deioniser
A bizarre labyrinth of crackling coils and sparking resistors, standing between the coils while they are activated (which is done by dipping the control rods in the battery-bath) requires you to make a saving throw of some sort or get blasted with lightning. Wearing metallic armour means that you take the saving throw at disadvantage.
If Arnault had an Energetic specialisation, then additionally, the False-Arnault is here.

3 - Distillation Chamber
A great vat with tubes, valves, and small localised furnaces dotted higgledy piggledy over it. Within, things are broken down, reconstituted, or refined. Getting inside would be something of a chore, but if you did, you would have to make a total of 3 saving throws. For each you fail, you lose a third of your hit points. If you succeed on all three, you actually gain a new hit die, and gain 1 point of AC as your flesh crystalises.
If Arnault had a Basic specialisation, then within the Distillation Chamber floats the Psuedo-Panacea, which will require a saving throw against the Chamber's effects to retrieve.

4 - Condensing Chamber [Aetheric - Breath of Life]
A great tank with a rib-cage of looping coils that runs underneath the vat into a freezing bath of mysteriously cold liquid. Anything dunked into the coolant the pipes loop through instantly freezes and in all probability, snaps off immediately. This is doubly certain for organic matter, and limbs in particular.
If Arnault had an Aetheric specialisation, then sat among a huge number of nearly, but not quite, identical glass beakers, is a stoppered bottle holding the Breath of Life. It is the only bottle that holds a gas, all the others have dusts and liquids and oozes and such, but you wouldn't spot it from a cursory glance.
Arnault's Breath of Life is not perfected of course, and rather than a permanent effect, it has 6 doses which provide its effect for 1 hour.

5 - Deep-Freeze Storage [Biological - False Homunculus]
A chamber, reinforced walls and stranged frosted pipes. The noise it creates is incredible, and it can be heard clearly in any room it borders, and faintly in rooms bordering those. Staying in the chamber is dangerous, and causes damage for each round beyond the first you stay within, such is the rampant cold. First, it deals d4 damage, the d6, then d8, scaling up a dice size each turn up to d20 every turn.
If Arnault has a Biological Specialisation, then the False Homunculus sits, floating in a iron chamber filled with preservatives and sedatives.

6 - The Smelter Vats [Impirical - Fool's Gold]
Basically a huge, huge furnace, with great vials of glowing liquids resting atop it, bubbling gently. A small door hinges open to reveal a deeply soot-black chamber that reeks of gas.
If the Vats are activated, almost anything placed in there will be almost immediately obliterated. If its organic and alive, it takes 10d10 fire damage each round. Most anything else will be ruined after a round, and obliterated d6 rounds after that. Its somewhat hard to get anything in there though, the aperture is only a little larger than a shovel's blade. Metal will melt in a round as well, regardless of how much is placed inside.
If Arnault had the Impirical Specialisation, then on one of the desks near the Vats is an instruction pamphlet (scribbled and rough) and a few goodly sized nuggets of Fool's gold (appearing to be worth about 100sp). From the instructions, given 10 sp of input materials, 2d10 x 10sp of Fool's Gold can be produced. It has no real value of course, it is only worth that much money to those who can't tell you aren't offering the real deal.

Arnault's Magnum Opus

Depends entirely on the specialism that Arnault held in life. Roll to determine the specialism and thus the Magnum Opus.

1 - Biological
The Pursuit of Bodily Perfection, the skill of distilling humours, and molding flesh into new modes and shapes.
The Magnum Opus of the Biological Alchemist is the creation of a perfect Homunculus, a created man. Arnault was close, but his creation was flawed, and the mind of his creation fractured at birth. It currently sleeps in an amniotic tank, but it is vastly aware of the House, its psychic powers latent, but unconsciously potent.
- Additional Terror: The Imperfect Homunculus - It is a horrible thing, diseased and corrupted, afflicted with every single result on all the menageries' tables. Somehow it is still nimble, fast, and strong...
- The Maker's Mark: The forms of the Terrors (except the Quick-Silver Serpent and The Aqua Regiad) look distrubingly close to human, but not quite close enough.
- Additional Treasure: The Nomad's Rose - A single flower, deep crimson, so deep as to almost be black. Smell its scent, and be transported briefly to a comprehension beyond comprehension. Eat it, and gain a revelation. It is also a token for a journey to the far shores of death and a safe return, for yourself at least.
- Signature Machine: The Deep-Freeze

2 - Impirical
The Pursuit of Material Perfection, the skill of refining metals and crystals, of ascending base materials to transcendent metals like Gold.
The Magnum Opus of the Impirical Alchemist is the perfection of Transformation of Base Materials, particularly into Gold. Many methods of creating materials that look very much like gold have been devised, and Arnault's is likewise flawed. It is however, new, and as such it will fool most for a while at least. Possession of it will attract attention however, both from those who wish to posses that knowledge and those that seek to destroy it. 
- Additional Terror: None - the true test is fending off rival Alchemists and Witch-Finders who want what they think you know.
- The Maker's Mark: The forms of the Terrors are somewhat metallic in patches and growths.
- Additional Treasure: A nearly endless supply of Fool's gold; almost the same thing, only detectable by a knowledgeable few
- Signature Machine: The Smelter Vats

3 - Aetheric
The Pursuit of Environmental Perfection, the skill of inducing vapours, and dictating their properties and uses.
The Magnum Opus of the Aetheric Alchemist is the Breath of Life, which would allow Man to survive most any condition, to free him of such needs as comfort, and oxygen. One of the rarest branches of Alchemy, in this result, Arnault is one of the few to dedicate himself to it, but his work was dreadfully flawed, and instead of creating a Breath of Life, he accidentally opened a gateway to the outer reaches of that Distant Night, and a Monstrous Wind came into our world. It twists and warps, much like Arnault's experiments do, and it was such that attracted it to the gateway, but for now at least it is sealed; Arnault had the foresight for that much at least.
- Additional Terror: The Monstrous Wind - Slightly yellow tinged air, it ages and deteriorates far too rapidly to be safe at all. For the most part it is quite placid, though sound disturbs it, the louder the sound, the greater its desire to hunt you down and weather you down to nothing...
- The Maker's Mark: The Terrors (except the Quick-Silver Serpent and The Aqua Regiad) have mechanical breathing apparatus incorporated into their bodies.
- Additional Treasure: 2d4 vials of Void-Vapours - A vial of void vapour does wonders for the human brain, you gain insight into the wisdom of the starry heavens for a moment, enough to ask a question, and receive a truthful, if brief and overly-literal answer.
- Signature Machine: The Condenser

4 - Base
The Pursuit of Unseen Perfection, the skill of removing flaws, of making what already is as good as it can possibly be.
The Magnum Opus of the Base Alchemist is the Panacea, the universal remedy. It is said that a few examples of it already exist in the world, and as skilled an Alchemist as Arnault was, his was not quite as perfect as those must be. His version is very close to it, once ingested, all ailments are cured and forced from the body, resulting in perfect health. There is a catch however. The removed impurities and imperfections are literally removed from the body, and will form a new instance of the Corruption whenever the Psuedo-Panacea is used. 
- Additional Terror: None - though use of the Psuedo-Panacea will recreate the Corruption
- The Maker's Mark: The terrors (except the Quick-Silver Serpent and The Aqua Regiad) bear Corruption like marks on their flesh.
- Additional Treasure: The Psuedo-Panacea - Will heal any diseases and ailments that trouble you, and even give a go of curing those of magical providence. However, the following day you will vomit up a harmless black pellet, which will sprout into an infestation of the Corruption the next day...
- Signature Machine: The Distillery

5 - Energetic
The Pursuit of Power and Potential, the skill of inducing and discharging, of making machines and controlling the obscure energies that control them.
The Magnum Opus of the Energetic Alchemist is the Machine-Mind, the Deus Ex Machina. Arnault's experimentations created many things in the world that could be mistaken for thoughts, but none were truly original. None arose from nothing, they were only ever reflections of himself. One of these reflections he sculpted in his own image, an idol of narcissism, who even now pretends control of the house and the roiling chaos within.  
- Additional Terror: The False-Arnault - Just like he used to be in his prime, only his intentions are dark, and the corruption bears no risks to him. He sees it more as... a tool to get what he wants. And his hungers range so deep...
- The Maker's Mark: Sparking rods and cables adorn the Terrors and/or their prisons
- Additional Treasure: The Charging Rod - All lightning is attracted to the rod, and stored endlessly within. Where does the lightning go? Who can say, it just does.
- Signature Machine: The Ioniser/Deioniser

6 - Abstract
The Pursuit of Splendid Existance, Eternal and Untouchable, the skill of uttermost refinement and perfection, even unto levels the human mind cannot conceive.
The Magnum Opus of the Abstract Alchemist is theorised and conjectured to be possible, but none have ever managed to produce a Philosopher's Stone of their own. Arnault had decades of his own research and the research of dozens that came before him, and the stone eluded him too. Through great personal expense, he managed to procure for himself a spent shard of a stone for his own tests, though he never quite managed to replicate it.
- Additional Terror: The Kaleido-Meister - A terrifying, long being of strange and abstract realms, he might boil you away into butterflies, or flense you with merely a touch. It is somewhat confused about being in this... simplistic world, but its confusion is deadly to us.
- The Maker's Mark: The Eyes of the Terrors are Starry Voids
- Additional Treasure: Shard of the Philosopher's Stone - can transform one object into solid gold, ever. Don't touch the ground, only a small patch would transform. Be very literal with the definition of "one object".
- Signature Machine: The Psuedo-Resonator

The Bovine Mass

[Look, this has been set in my drafts for feckin' forever. Have a peek.]

So like, I've got this whole list of monsters I've come up with for an adventure that I may eventually ever get around to running. In the mean time, gorge your eyes on them.

The Bovine Mass

When the star fell, one of the tiny incandescent fragments landed in the Abbey's cowshed, and unfortunately, every one of the Abbey's animals was there. Now, there are no cows left, only the Mass.

It heaves and grunts when it sleeps, limbs hanging limply and gangling here there and everywhere. Its hide is covered in pustules and lesions of every colour, and its many tongues hang vacantly from its many, many mouths. Drool hangs in thick, ropey knots, and eyes roll unseeing in bloated, puffy sockets. The Mass is about the size of a small bus, about 20 cows in all went into it, and now only this hateful screaming thing remains.

Mostly it just loiters, wallowing in its unending misery. Mud cakes it, and shit. It has the colons of a couple of dozen cows just sitting there, every other day or so one bursts.

And yet the Mass continues to live, sustained by the baleful energies of the fallen star.

If disturbed, the Mass slops up on many spines like a hateful fleshy worm, limbs hanging from it like hairs or spines, and screams, loud enough to shake the pathetic timbers of its home. It has no dexterity or grace at all, it attacks only when it must, and when it attacks, it throws itself forward with no sense of self-preservation, its massive and crushing weight the only it has.

Wounds phase it very little too, its nerves long since disintegrated. Even hacked off hunks of flesh will continue to thrash about and struggle long after death unless they too are dealt sufficient punishment. Mostly they can only writhe and squeal and spray acidic vomit in gouts from weeping wounds, but even the vomit is caustic enough to be deadly for the unlucky.

The Gardener

When the star fell, a small shard of it stabbed down into the Abbey's garden, where one of the unlucky brothers was tending the vines. Now, the vines tend to him.

Take the bones of a person, wrap them all about with the thickest, lushest, greenest vines you can find, make sure they are the deep greens of the hearts of forests, and then give it the life of a dead star that it walks and lives too. 

The Gardener continues to perform the duties it conducted in life, leading the orchestra of fecundity and feral growth the fallen star has induced in the Abbey's gardens. He walks about it jerking, faltering steps, and he caresses the plants he tends with a stiff, arthritic affection. He wields no tools, only his hands and the more dexterous creepers that curl and spiral up his back like spider legs; these he uses to prune and weed with single-minded determination and endless effort. He slows down at night, but he never stops.

If disturbed, he will ignore you. If greatly disturbed, he might shove you away without turning towards you, is other limbs continuing their work as he does so. If you attack him, he will collapse into a pile of soft and rotting vegetable muck. He will then grow again, out of sight, and watch you.

When he thinks his moment has come, vines will erupt from the earth, grasping, strangling, choking. If he slays one of your number, he will slink into their flesh and wear it like a suit. For now he will only play dead. Later he may use it to ambush you, or possibly just fertilise his subjects with the softening meat.

An Overview of Magic

Beginning Brain-Wiggles
I have discovered that, in my world, the magic number is three. This is only partly because there was a kick-ass Dark Crystal Art Book with all kinds of law stating that three was the most stable number, and was thus the number of magic (with other, forbidden numbers too). The rest of the reason is total coincidence.

Magic Itself
There are three main "classes" of magic, in as much as mortal minds can comprehend. The higher beings such as angels, seem to enjoy magic of their own which does not fit with this system. It is however, useful to bend the simple geometry of the human mind around and against such mystical forces.

1 - Hedge Magic
The simplest kind, which most anyone can master, given time, knowledge, and resources. The magic for the most part is bound in the objects, though bond is a very loose and mostly incorrect way to put it. It is the passive magic of things; the way the deck of cards can be used to predict the future, the way that a bowl of water can reveal visions; how, with the right chalk marks, a mirror can hold things inside its reflections.

2 - Theurgy
The classical magic, where words and spells summon powerful effects and rain destruction down from on high! Difficult to learn, even for those that devote themselves to it. Works pretty much like in regular DnD, probably only wizards can learn this kind of magic easily (but that's a discussion for another day). 

3 - Arcana
This is deep wizard knowledge man. This is where the whole "sufficiently advanced..." and "appears to be magic," stuff kicks in. This is where being able to enter into contracts with outer-powers comes in, where you can find the ways to the Undying Lands of the Fae, where you can discern the routes to eternal life. Its magic to everyone else, to the sufficiently learned, its just elementary.

Magic Items
Similarly, there are three kinds of magic item, which roughly sort of map to the three kinds of magic.

1 - Awoken Items
All things have their spirits, and the spirits of made-things are strange indeed. Unsure of what they really are, they sleep, and have little magics of their own. It takes great deeds to rouse them to greatness again. This is how the fighter can ambiently make magic weapons, how the cloaks of invisibility get made, how Magic Mirrors get to answering questions about subjective opinions.
Coincidently, this type of magic item has the greatest abundance of sentient items by far, even if the sentience is only the passive type.

2 - Enchanted Items
These are your classic "A WIZARD DID IT" items. They have magic woven into them, the item is more of a store and a repository, than a source. They will run dry and disenchant naturally if you let them, but many items (especially those made by competent wizards) have ways to replenish their enchantments.

3 - 'Magical' Items
This type of magic only sort of counts, these are the items made of magical things, and thus possess their properties. Healing potions, adamantine weapons, mithril armour, that kind of thing.

How this fits into the game
Firstly, I imagine Wizards interacting with the types of magic like a ladder.
They start off with very few spells, but the ever usable (but minor) Hedge Magics.
As they level up early and into mid levels, they begin to amass their vast repertoires of spells that they are famous for. Then, as they progress, they slowly pick up Arcana, and puzzle out the deeper mysteries.

What about other magic classes?
I really don't know.
I do like the difference between Wizards and Sorcerers being learned versus innate, but that doesn't jive nicely with my magic system. And I don't know what the third type of wizard would be for the "Magical Trifecta".
I could on the other hand, try and wrangle out classes that each focus on other types of magic. For example, if Wizards overall focus on Theurgy, then you could have a Hedge Wizard type class. An idea I had for a type of magic user who focused more on Arcana would be a kind of Monk type character who pondered the universe, but then I lose out on the space for a Sorcerer.
Oh I don't know what to do.

Also, the Awoken Items are a great way for non-magical folks to get/make magical items, which is always a good thing I think.

The Seclusium of Time the Wizard

Time the Wizard never mastered the magics of chronology, the Inevitable would not let him. He cast many spells that mangled cause and effect, and made the current flow backwards for a while, and he snatched extra moments out of the march of minutes here and there. The effects are disconcerting, and his tower was twisted and warped because of his works. As he aged, he grappled with causality less and less, and let his desires outgrow his restraint eventually only when he died many years from now. These days in the present, he still lives, lost deep within the inwards-facing confines of his tower.
He has not been seen in some time. Many think he is dead.

Adventure Overview

The Tower of Time the Wizard is a chronologically damaged dungeon. Within it, there exist three seperate versions of the Tower, the Tower as it is now in the Present, the Tower as it existed when Time successfully cast his first Chronomancy Spell in the past, and the Tower in the future, on the last day that Time ever cast a Chronomancy Spell. Needless to say, the map differs, significantly in some places, depending on the time period you visit in. Sometimes guards are more potent, sometimes they are less.
Oh, and the Paradoxes you cause simply by being there are anathema to the Inevitable, who will try to kill you out of time and space.

Paradoxes, how to have already resolved them, and you 

For the most part, ignore the whole bloody thing, except for these rules:
1 - If you destroy a guardian in one time period, it is destroyed in more advanced time periods.
If you have already interacted with it/them in those advanced time periods, this still stands as part of your paradoxical time-stream. This is what pisses the Inevitable off, that you can achieve this.
2 - If you take an item, you can only take the earliest advanced version with you. You can see early versions of objects you have, but once you take them, the elder version disappears entirely.
For example, you take Time the Wizard's spellbook from the future, where he was weak and frail, and his spellbook bulging with knowledge. You go to the distant past, and kill Time there too, and take his spellbook from there, were it is slim, and mostly full of experimentations. The elder spellbook fades and vanishes, and when you go to back to the present, Time is again dead, and the Spellbook he should have had (and you indeed saw earlier) is gone.
3 - You can never find yourselves, time flows constantly through the tears such that if you spend five minutes in the future, then return to the present, 5 minutes has passed in the present as well.
4 - You can only leave the tower in the present, as the Time-fields that contain your paradoxes end at the door. You can try and leave, but you could only manage it by magic, and even then a flood of Inevitables would quickly isolate you and obliterate you.

Inhabitants of the Tower

Time the Wizard 

The man himself, the very picture of the classic mad mage; frizzy hair, wild eyes, and yet a deep sagacity visible only shallowly beneath the weight of years. Would very much like to know what you are doing in his bloody house, and wants to get on with his studies. Time is not his name of course, but due to an accident involving his own mother, he never actually got a proper name.
In the past, Time's power is at its peak, though he in inexperienced, reckless, and proud.
In the present, Time is crafty, and knows much about his craft. He is careful, considered, and crafty.
In the future, Time's power has run its course for the most part, though he is still somewhat potent. His greatest power is the vast amounts of wisdom he now has, and the vast amount of preparations he has had time to create. He is tired, curious, and even friendly, though the old storm-clouds of rage can still be stoked up within.

Thesean Eternals

One of Time's most successful experimental creations (from a execution stand-point, if not a practicality stand-point), these servitor-golems exist in exactly the same state in all possible time-states, once the final enchantment is wrought. The unfortunate side effect is that many of them simply underwent catastrophic existence failure as soon as they were activated, due to some mysterious doom in their future that destroyed them simultaneously in all time-states. Some survived, and serve Time as menial labour, and occasionally as intruder disposal. Not even Time quite understands how they work, as some spontaneously collapse of no readily apparent cause.
In game, what is done to a Thesean Eternal is reflected across all three time-states; if you put a flower-wreath on its head in the future, when you go to the present, the Eternal will still be wearing the wreath. If you kill it in the future, it is dead in all three time-states.

Chronomatic Golems

The most complex of Time's creations, the Chrono-Golems utilise Time's magics directly, though only as a power-source. They have a field of time energy surrounding them, which they can direct outwards, and slow the actions of things around them, or polarise it and direct it inwards, speeding itself up significantly. The only thing is, if you break their time-core, it explodes, and that would be bad.
In the past, the Golem's power-sources are unperfected, and have a 1 in 3 chance of not working each turn.
In the present, the Golems are at the height of their repair.
In the future, the Golems are slowly desolating under the weight of ages, and take damage when they polarise their time-fields.
Results of the Time-Explosion
1 - Unstuck in time! Catapulted back a zone (or to the future if you're in the past).
2 - Un-aged! Reduce your age by d6 years, and forget that many things (such as spells, secrets, skills etc.)
3 - Attracts the attention of the Inevitable, also is a big explosion.
4 - Births a time-spirit, who gives you a Crystalised Moment for your trouble, then leaves, mysteriously.
5 - Aged! Increase your age by d6 years, and lose a point from that many stats from the shock.
6 - Unstuck in time! Catapulted forward a zone (or to the past if you're in the future)


Servants of Time even before he mastered time magic, they are spirits bound heavily within cages of living wood, resentfulness slowly mellowing into indifference, all the while forced to obey the commands of their captor.
In the past, the Wicker-Men are still green and verdant, and have half their normal hit die.
In the present, the Wicker-Men are mature and strong, and have their normal hit die.
In the future, the Wicker-Men are gnarled and twisted, and have double their normal hit die.

The Guardian Drake

It entered a contract with the wizard, in return for a steady supply of Arcanite, that precious crystal, it would guard Time's innermost sanctum. It was never all that invested in its job, as Time never had a steady supply of its payment.
In the past, the Drake is young and small, but fierce in its duty.
In the present, the Drake is larger and mature, but much more mellow in its responsibilities.
In the future, the Drake is gone, and has left behind a small clutch of eggs.

The Inevitable

A terrifying thing, a manifestation of the Time-Stream itself, detached from time to follow paradox-makers, such as the party, where-ever they go. Something like a humanoid, only built of angular, polyhedral metal-ish shapes, balancing on needle-thin feet, and stabbing forward with clusters of needle-sharp fingers. It acts like the party, in that it follows the same rules about traversing time-states. It will pursue the party doggedly as long as they remain within the tower, chasing them between time-streams.

Treasures of the Tower

Time's Spellbook

The most obvious of any list of valuable things held by a wizard, Time's matches his development through the subtle arts. 
In the past, the spellbook is rough and scrawled, full of much experimentation and little success. 
In the present, much of it has been consolidated into useful magic and practical theory. 
It is in the future, however, that the book's potential is fully realised, though the book itself is a veritable motley riot of pages and replacements. Its wisdom is most elucidated of the three accessible versions.

Time's Arcanite Supply

Through his many years, Time did battle with many other wizards, and over time came into quite the collection of Arcanite.
</sidenote> Arcanite is massively valuable, and it is what a wizard's bones become as they cast magic. They crystalise into magically potent Arcanite, and it can be used to store and release large amounts of magical energy. Eventually, the entire skeleton can crystalise, though this is rare for many reasons, not least of which is unscrupulous wizards like Time. </end sidenote>
He used much of it to pay of his Drake, and also to fuel his experiments into Time Magic, much of which can only be achieved with vast amounts of the stuff. 
In the past, it is still small, Time's scraps and battles are yet to come.
In the present, the supply is at its largest retrievable state.
In the future, the Drake consumed most of it already, and has left only meagre scraps.

Time's Staff

The real deal, though it only became that way later on, and due to the powerful time-magics involved, it became that way in all points of time, which surprised Time somewhat, as it was quite a mundane stick, until he picked it up and it spontaneously became an instrument of obscene magical power.
Its user can apply a time-effect to any spell they cast, such as sending it into the future, effectively having a magic spell at their beck and call to summon instantly from the past. A wizard could also call forth a spell from the future, though they would then have to cast it in the future to send back, or else face the consequences of an unfulfilled paradox.

Davidi's Witnesses

A painting of vast skill and value, Time's first Chronological outing was to steal it from Davidi's workshop even as it dried as a lark. The lost Davidi has been sought for many years, and the search has pretty much dried up in the present day. Perhaps unintuitively, the value of the painting actually decreases based on the time-period it is taken from, as modern art-scholars will doubt its authenticity due to the warpings of age.

The Tree of Rubies

A bit of a departure for Time, before his obsession with time, he created a tree which grew rubies. Much to his annoyance, the tree adopted some of the tectonic life-cycle of the stones it grew, and would take a life-time to mature, by which point his interest in the stones had thoroughly cooled.
In the past, the tree is still immature, and has only a small yield,
In the present, the tree is at is height, and has a great yield of jewels.
In the future, the tree is wizened and old, and its yield is in between the past and the present.

Time's Alchemical Laboratory

A life-time's collection, full of every and any kind of glass, furnace, distillery, rack, chemical, cooler, and other such trinket of science, eventually.
In the past, the set is still somewhat amateur.
In the present, the set is quite professional.
It is in the future that the set becomes exhaustively complete.

Other Features of the Tower

Crystalised Moments

One of Time's more useful creations, he stole little motes of time from other places and bound them, screaming and fighting, into little soluble tablets, that can be swallowed to allow someone to take twice the normal actions for a minute or so, though the paradox has to solve itself later, by stealing that minute back at some point.
When does that minute manifest?
1 - In your sleep, when it isn't important at all.
2 - When you next fall more than 20 feet, about 10 foot from the bottom.
3 - In the next combat, after your first turn (you are however, utterly impervious to any damage)
4 - In the middle of the next important conversation you have outside the tower (with all the awkwardness that will surely entail)
5 - The next time you take a saving throw, in the moment before you must make the save (which could also save you from the thing you needed to save against, maybe).
6 - In the next situation that requires you to help someone else urgently.

The Chrono-Vault

A powerful piece of arcano-engineering, though Time himself never really quite appreciated his achievement in its creation. It is unstuck in time, existing perpetually in a state of continuity, no matter what time-stream you are in. In-fact, its benefits can only be reaped by time-travellers, as the contents of the Chrono-Vault are matched to your personal time-line, no matter when you access it, the contents are the same relative to the last time you opened it, regardless of when that actually is.

The Twists in Time

These are how you move between time-zones. 
Red ones blossom outwards in brilliant rings, and carry you one step forward into the future, and thus only appear in the past and the present.
Blue ones collapse inwards endlessly, and carry you one step back into the past, and thus only appear in the present and the future.

The Saturnium

It was the first real clock ever built, about the size of a train, its faces are about 30 feet across. Not made, note, but built; and it is one-hundred percent accurate. 
It is so accurate in fact, that if you were to alter it, the very mechanisms of time itself would judder, so deep are the Saturnium's roots into the fabric of being. The gods would be pissed, if they weren't already dead. In fact, you can't move the Saturnium without a force that can also alter the fabric of time itself already. Its hands are somewhat inscrutable, but can offer great forecasts of a great many things, and also function (roughly) like immovable rods.

The Lightning-Cage

When Time ran out of Arcanite to both fuel his experiments and feed his drake, he stole a spirit of lightning and bound it in a cage it could never escape, to leach off its energy. It is not around in the past, but in the present, it is very tired, and wants to be freed. Doing so would wreck a good portion of the tower, and that is infact what has destroyed a chunk of it in the future, when Time's conscience finally caught up with him.

Time's Hidden Moment

A moment in time, stolen out from causality, when Time was truly happy. Its up to the DM what the nature of this moment is, but in this room, that moment lives eternally, unknowingly, undisturbable and serene. Over time, Time spent less and less time here. It just made him sad eventually.

Disguises and Fancy Duds

AC is pretty good right?
We can use this in more ways than we thought.

A thief asks to make a disguise to do... whatever. How much time and effort and gold is he going to put into this disguise? A few hours and roughly  enough gold to buy some chain mail? Right, the DC on seeing through his disguise is now 16.

Here's how I'd do it, given that this is completely untested.

Take the table of prices for armour.

For each chunk of time (1 hour, 4 hours, 1 day, whatever is most appropriate) you move up a rung towards plate mail.
If you pay enough gold for your rung's equivalent armour, you can keep it as your disguise DC. If you don't pay, move down rungs; one if you pay more than half, two if you pay less than half. Move up rungs depending on your disguise skill, if that's something your game has.
The rung you end up on is your equivalent disguise armour.
You can use the stats exactly as written.

Why is it so heavy? Eh, clothes are heavy sometimes, but I also I think it could represent the kinds of "empty spaces" in clothes that are expected for your disguises. You wouldn't expect a priest/noble/beggar's clothes to be bulging with loot/equipment.
Why would it give you disadvantage on stealth (if that is a thing your armour does)? Same kind of reason, the clothes you need to wear might be heavy, or dingly, or otherwise not helpful for sneaking in.
Why does it mean you have disadvantage against shocking grasp spells? Okay, look smart-arse, why don't you put some thought into it and apply your common sense instead?

We could also easily apply this to Fancy Clothes too. Fanciness is a protection (or insulation at least) against a good few things sometimes, especially if parties are a thing your uh... party go to.

A good disguise/set of fancy duds could be as valuable as armour in certain games. It could be a money sink for people who don't need plate mail. And I think it adds something to the discussion of "What do you mean I can't wear my owl-bear-stained plate armour to see the king? Why do I need to look good for nobles?" and also the "What do you mean I can't immediately disguise myself as an archbishop in ten minutes with only a set of face paint and bravado?"

Though that last one does actually sound like it can only end well.

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