Hags! Part the Fourth - [Marrow, Byenic, Red Hags]

Marrow Hags
Easily the friendliest of Hags (not that you would want one as your friend of course), though only if you can provide them with good, ripe, and interesting bones...

Marrow Hags are of course, obsessed with all things to do with death, particularly and especially Bones. They love all things to do with bones, the stories they tell, the diseases that can contort them into all kinds of forms and shapes, the charms they can carve from them, the voices they can force them to speak in, the control a good piece of bone can grant over a person. And if you can offer them a bone of sufficient "quality" (the definition of which is idiosyncratic to each Marrow Hag,) then she will gladly suffer your company through gritted teeth and graciously allow you to keep hold of your own skeleton for a while more.

If you were to irritate the Marrow Hag, or heaven's forbid attempt to fight one, you would find your own bones turning against you; thin, ethereal strings reaching from within your limbs to the Hag's fingers as she makes you dance and twirl, cackling as she does so, before she forces you to break your own limbs.

Marrow Hags are also self-proclaimed mistresses of Necromancy; not the animation and negative-energy manipulation practised by the more bombastically dour of mortal villains, they will declare, but the true, primal meaning of necromancy, the contact and manipulation of the souls of the dead. Forcing bones to talk and give up their secrets; the transference of the energy of the dead to the living to induce sickness; the forcing of spirits into cages such that their words can be used against their will; this is the Hag-magic practised by Marrow Hags. The most powerful of Marrow Hags can practice any rite of necromancy you might be able to consider. But treat her well and give up plenty of bones. Where as other Marrow hags can only make you move against your will, Grandmother Marrow Hags can break and deform your bones with a snap of her fingers; distort them into any shape she wishes; meld your joints into a single solid; pull your ribs from your chest with a crooked, beckoning finger...

Each Marrow Hag will also keep with them a bundle of bone-charms and scrimshaw, all run-about with carvings and sigils traced into the web of ivory. These are their protection and insurance. Some will prevent blades from harming their flesh, some turn the luck of their enemies against them, some can be broken to manifest powerful magics. It is best to be well prepared if you plan to face a Marrow Hag.

That being said, if you offer a Marrow Hag a truly special bone, say the infected scapula of a dragon, or the scarred rib of a giant, or a titan's knuckle carved into a cup drank from by a lineage of mighty orc chieftains, then the Marrow Hag can be persuaded to teach you some of her bone-charm arts, tell you how to score and groove the bone, what shapes to trace, the words to mutter as you do so, the incense to burn as you go.

Marrow Hags will do anything they can for good bone...

Byenic Hags
In a Byenic Hag's house, you will find many jars, and inside those jars (perhaps you can guess by the stench and flies) sits a soft lumpy pile of rotten and runny meat. If you cannot find her in her home, perhaps you will find her just outside, crouched, and salivating over the corpse of her last kill. She has been there three days, though you do not know that. She can't touch the body until its soft with rot.

Meat and Rot are the two great loves of Byenic Hags. They love them so much that they have learned how to rot with a touch, though they only do this to creatures they are hunting; its less 'pure' than naturally set rot, or so they say. Carrion is so much more delectable when untainted by magic, according to them at least. Their other Hag-Magics sprout from this fundamental power, and with a look they can instil nausea and sickness in creatures, they can spoil food in their presence, and degradable items will disappear rapidly in a heap of muck if the Hag wishes it. Sometimes, even iron and steel can be caused to rust and corrode under a Byenic Hag's grip. The mightiest of all Byenic Hags can transmute the very ground itself into a steaming and stinking quagmire of fetid flesh.

Byenic Hags in their element are endurance hunters; they will use a burst of energy at the very start of the hunt to set a rot in their prey's flesh, then merely track and stalk until the prey is brought low by the impurities and miasmas breeding within them. Then when the flesh is sloughing and soft, the corpse is dragged back to the Hag's hut to ferment and mature further. To touch unrotten meat would be disgusting to the Hag, and indeed their own flesh is calloused and scabbed all over. If one has been sat or crouched for a long time, you would be able to hear the crackle of dead flesh when she stood, and if that were not enough to make you gag, the smell would.

Byenic Hags will often eat the foul meats they gather and soften raw and plain, but sometimes, they will make an extra special effort, occasionally even inviting other Byenic Hag's to partake. They will lay out spreads of horrifyingly corrupt meats; stews of soft, runny flesh; quivering heaps of muscle, seasoned with fungus and crumbling woods, mosses and lichens. They will scoff it down with aplomb, the blackened and sickening morsels staining their lips and faces.

Some Byenic Hags take their fascination even further, and will create companions for themselves out of the meats they collect. Bone skewers and slabs of pallid muscle are stuck together haphazardly, and all animated with Hag-Magics. The result bears a resemblance to a flesh-golem, but it is altogether more unwholesome and sickening. Worse, the existence of one will increase the amount the Byenic Hag mistress will need to hunt, lest her Meat-Idol collapse as its flesh sloughs away and rots utterly.

Red Hags
Red Hags bear some semblance of similarity to the Byenic Hag, but where the Byenic hag is gristly, grey, and scabbed, the Red Hag is raw, and the colour of bleeding flesh; and where the Byenic Hag eats rotten meat, Red Hags eat the meat of men.

They are like something out of a nightmare. Out in the hills where no-one else is, she stalks you through old abandoned shacks, drooling at the thought of tearing your meat from your bones while you're still screaming. Red Hags of all hags lack any of the usual Hag-Magics, but they instead have a devastating arsenal of natural weapons in their teeth, talons, and raw brute strength. Their flesh also mends preternaturally well, healing even grievous wounds in minutes or shorter, though it wouldn't save a Red Hag from the cold grasp of death. Usually. Some unusually powerful Red Hags have been known to have been definitively killed, dismembered, or burned, and yet returned to exact bloody vengeance. Very bloody vengeance.

All Red Hags also carry some kind of weapon; often an axe or hatchet, sometimes a cleaver, or machete. Either way, they are all just a bit too large to be comfortable around them, they are all rusted and stained the old stale brown of blood, long since dried. The Hags especially love to drag them behind them as they slowly stalk prey, the metal grinding on the stone floor.

These weapons have been passively enchanted by being in the Red Hag's presence, and some of the fear the hags inspire in their prey has soaked into the weapon over time, and even seeing the weapon can be too much for some. Even after the Hag's eventual demise, the weapon retains this unconscious aura of despair and gut-wrenching terror.

When fighting a Red Hag (such an altercation is unavoidable with these barely civilised beasts) there will be little in the way of direct confrontation. Mostly you will be stalked; the Red Hag is sure to know all the locations near her home in uncomfortable detail, and she will surely know the best hiding places, the best ambush spots, the best places to come smashing through the crumbling wood walls with her talons extended to gouge out the flesh of your throat. Even in places unfamiliar to her, she will probably be able to turn the terrain against you.

The Red Hag's most profound weakness is her lack of intelligence. Her only real area of expertise in knowledge is in anatomy, many other things are a mystery to her; not that she cares. She is unreasonably cunning and wily, but if you can lure her into a trap she cannot escape with brute strength, she will likely remain trapped. Of course, even luring her into such a trap is tricky to begin with. Especially when she is more often than not the hunter, and when she can be altogether unpredictable.

Others in the Series

Part 1 - Introduction & Eritheze Hags

Part 2 - Willow, Angler, and Brume Hags (with a little more Eritheze)

Part 3 - Luner, Murine, Briar Hags

Part 5 - Skitter, Matron, Scypho Hags

Part 6 - Crose, and Whisper Hags, and Retuning 5e's Hags

Hags! Part the Third - [Lunar, Murine, Briar Hags]

Lunar Hags
Many are the cultures that link the  moon to madness and primalness; the most wizened of scholars have correctly traced this superstitious belief to the terrible Lunar Hags.

Their homes are always in the loftiest of places, where there will be no obstruction for the moon's light. They dance and cavort in the soft, white light, shrieking and howling. They shower in the blood that drizzles from the offal they offer up to that distant white disc. They feast on the earth and mud which is graced with the light of the moon. They are of course, fucking insane.

Of all Hags, they are the most shunned, the most hated, the most feared. There will be no villages near the home of an Lunar Hag, or heaven's forbid, a coven of Lunar Hags. No one is desperate enough to risk staying near their homes.

If you were foolish enough (bravery is no excuse for approaching the home of a Lunar Hag) to try to reach a Lunar Hag's home, you would first notice that something was off while you were still some ways away. You wouldn't be able to place it until later, when the madness becomes more apparent, and trees start to sprout eyes, and the earth moans through loamy mouths and squirrels the size of bloodhounds with teeth made of ice start to quiver and shriek at your passing. Of course, the worst is yet to come. The truly abstract nightmares only manifest much closer to the Hag's home.

[grinding teeth pulsing flesh running fangs over the grain of the meat tear out a garden's worth of ribs and throw it into the darkness it swirls and flows look deep it is dark and deep so deep you could lose yourself in it imagine its depths imagine what lurks in its depths feel the man behind you his hand reaching out to touch you the knife in his hands the blade biting deep and the crimson running]

The nightmares follow the Lunar Hags wherever they go, but they are strongest in the light of the moon. All of the Hag's magic is stronger in the light of the moon, at least as far as is observable; it does seem that the Lunar Hags will try much harder when the moon is still full, and they are positively lethargic when it is new. The illusions and curses they manifest do seem to be created somehow from the light of the moon, so the debates rage on as to whether the Full Moon is as necessary for the Hag's magic as they seem to believe. On the brightest of moon-lit nights, it is said, the oldest Lunar Hags can spread their madness with merely a word.

One thing for the self-determined heroes who think to challenge a Lunar Hag to remove their vile stain from the world, and who believes that they can win by merely assaulting the Hag on the nights of the New Moon; do not let the Lunar Hag drink. Deep in their lair, possibly though not always on the roof, is the Hag's Moonlight Distillery. It soaks up the soft light, and slowly condenses a pallid, gently glowing milk. For the Lunar Hag, it is as glorious as the light of the moon itself, and they will be invigorated by it. As far as has been told, none have ever been able to drink it but the Hags themselves, so it is unknown if it would have any effects on the mortal races.

Furthermore, if you now plan to begin your assault with the Distillery, do not look into the mirrors that adorn it and reflect and focus the Moonlight. Despite the janky and haphazard construction of the silvery edifice, madness is all that awaits you if you gaze into the mirrors as they distort your form in their sheen. All your worst flaws and faults will be magnified, and unable to look away, you will be trapped forever in the reflected nightmare of what you thought was you.

Murine Hags
Amongst the many deplorable individuals of Hag-kind, there are few as deplorable as Murine Hags. Their hovels are filled fit to bursting with crude wooden cages and hutches, and the walls are riddled with holes and tunnels. The Murine Hag you see, is not the only inhabitant of this foul construction, far from it. For the Murine Hag, her vile pets are her whole world, and she will dote over the many hundreds of rats, weasels, ferrets, rabbits, flightless birds, snakes, spiders, and all other kinds of hateful vermin. The whole place is thickly crawling in the worst kinds of fauna, and you would even hear the crunch of the fleas and lice underfoot as you walked.

Though all kinds of Hag will elicit disgust from the peoples of the villages near-by, few can incite the same levels of sheer revulsion that Murine Hags do. Even as far away as these neighbour-settlements, levels of vermin and pests will be unmanageable. Crops will be blighted, all but the most secure stores ravaged, and even cats and small dogs will be found gutted by the street-side. And even then, it will be a light infestation compared to what keeps company with the Hag.

Where-ever the Hag goes, they are always attended by swarms of these particularly vicious and blighted beasts, the ground runs thick with them, and she can seemingly will more out of the very earth when she desires, though whether this is some work of hag-magic or simply her inexhaustible supply of attendant vermin is as yet unknown. So thick is their bond with the most worthless dregs of the animal kingdom that particularly old and powerful Murine Hags can even themselves burst apart into a swarm of the beasts, particularly to escape death. As long as even one of the result tide of animals can escape, so can the Hag, who can then reconstitute her form from the escaped creatures.

They spend their time in equal parts wallowing in the filth of their disgusting 'pets', hunting with them for meat of any kind, regardless of how long dead it is, and in brewing and fermenting all kinds of poisonous muck. Their greatest joy after their animals, is the diseases they create. Her most prized possession, after her pets, is the crusted and creaking 'cookbook' of all the poisons and ailments she has made. Long nights are spent creeping through the villages near her home, smearing corrupt oils and unguents on the pillows and mouths of the unfortunate occupants, whose last few days will be spent screaming and wailing. The Murine Hag's second most horrific gift is this perverse creation, and she will practise it in whatever container she can. Horrific tales have reached ears far and wide of the basement of a Murine Hag that was home to many unfortunate souls the Hag seemed to have been keeping as living incubators for her unwholesome pestilences. Their misery was not prolonged.

Fire seems to be the greatest tool to wield against a Murine Hag. Not because she herself or her home are particularly vulnerable to flame, indeed the crust of dirt and filth they both accumulate seems to shield them from it to a degree, but it serves more to destroy their swarms of vermin, who crackle and curl up rather satisfyingly in the cleansing flames. Should irreparable harm befall her menagerie, the Hag will be overwhelmed by grief, to the point of catatonia if enough of the blighted beasts are destroyed. This is easier written than done, of course. She does have oh so many of the bastards...

Briar Hags
Sometimes, out in the woods, you will come across a high topiary wall, like that of the hedge-mazes of the more luxuriating and lucred nobles. It will always be out of place, and quite large, encircling a field's worth of forest, hill-top, or valley. Grand trees and stones choked in lianas and creeping vines peek out over the foliage, but you can't quite get a good look from ground level. A vantage point (and a good one at that) would reveal the entire floral spectacle that awaits beyond.

Every colour can be seen, especially the shades of green. There will be impeccable rows of vegetables and fruit trees. Inexpressibly beautifully trimmed bushes and hedges flourish alongside the most perfectly arranged rock gardens. From here, you would be able to see, and probably smell, all kinds of delectable fruits and prizes to be taken. Unless you clambered down from your lofty post and invaded the garden, you would not be able to detect the thick, cloying pollens, you would  the dizzying arrays of sensory overloads, the tantalising morsels on every twig and leaf. Nor would you see the reclusive Briar Hag who tends to it.

Briar Hags for the most part, will keep to themselves, walled inside their verdant paradise. They have a schedule, you see, and deviating even a little is liable to spell disaster. The hag will follow their carefully planned out itinerary to the very second if they can; the vast majority of which is spent gardening. They grow all kinds of plants,  there are examples of every known mundane kind, several magical ones, and some unique to their own gardens, even from other Briar Hags. The Hag's Garden is her life, and if it were to be destroyed, she wouldn't know what to do. Some have speculated that the true reason for their distraught at the idea of the loss of their gardens is the absolute havoc it would play on their schedules.

And it is this need, this furious requirement to stick to the plan and to tend the garden that breeds their paranoia and maliciousness to strangers, and particularly to trespassers. There are wondrous things to be found (or rather, stolen) in Briar Hag gardens to be sure, but few are those that will ever enjoy the fruits of such an endeavour. The few who have entered and left and lived to tell the tale, speak of the plants around them coming to life to assault them, thorns, roots, and vines sprouting from the ground at the Hag's command, wooden figures stepping free from trees to grapple and restrain them. Someone who witnessed such a break-in from outside the boundaries of a particularly old Hag's garden, describes her power to 'step into' the plants she grew, and 'step out' again from other plants, seemingly as if they were merely next to each other, and she were walking behind them.

There are also tales beyond counting of those that survive their encounters with the Briar Hag, escape with their booty, and are struck down by terrible curses and sicknesses. This type of tale is often the more graphic, and more gleefully told.

And yet, there are a rare few who are able to spirit into and out of a Briar Hag's garden with their prizes intact, and that escape the Hag's distant retribution. Never many, but enough to spread tales of the wondrous things that await the thief bold enough to brave the Briar Hag's domain, and to tempt the brave and foolish to replicating their feats and plunders; apples from whose cider can be distilled a potion of youth, pumpkins from which entire castles have been fed (or occasionally built), saplings which have grown into mighty trees many hundreds of feet high. And also, a curious tale, of someone who stole from around the neck of the Briar Hag herself, a green, though otherwise perfectly preserved, thumb. They never did tell what it was that compelled them to cut off their own thumb to replace it, but one thing is for sure; their garden never did look more beautiful before then...

Others in the Series

Part 1 - Introduction & Eritheze Hags

Part 2 - Willow, Angler, and Brume Hags (with a little more Eritheze)

Part 4 - Marrow, Byenic, Red Hags

Part 5 - Skitter, Matron, Scypho Hags

Part 6 - Crose, and Whisper Hags, and Retuning 5e's Hags

Hags - Part the Second - [Willow, Angler, Brume Hags, with a re-showing of Eritheze]

Willow Hags
Will Hags are the fear of the thing that go bump in the night, the fear that you are being followed in the dark, that maybe the shadow being cast by that willow tree might be some beast come to take you away...

In actuality, there is something following you; and it is the Willow Hag. They stalk and shadow, and strike at night, when only a few walk the cobblestone streets, the long, thin fronds of the Willow tree reaching in through the windows to snatch you away. The main power of a Willow hag is that she can stretch out her arms, her fingers, her legs, her toes, her hair. She can grow to be stories tall, and resemble almost perfectly a willow tree without even an ounce of magic. And she is quiet, oh so quiet, but for the rustling of her frond-limbs, and the shuffling as she reaches through the window to carry you away.

If you are ever found, it will be only as bones bound up in bundles of greasy and knotted hair.

The other main identifying feature of the Willow Hags, is that when forming a coven, all the Hags will tie their hair together at the ends, forming a horrid, tangled knot of greasy stick-hair. Their hair can stretch infinitely, pulling out from their pallid heads like canes through soft clay, so it is not that much of a burden to them. It does, however, (or so they themselves say) allow them to share their magics between them. What affects one, affects all that are tied together at the end of their hair. Their spells each affect the others, their wards each protect the others, their charms will benefit the others. Thus their teamwork is among the strongest in hag-kind.

This is not without its drawbacks. Just because their team-work is the strongest in Hag-Kind, does not mean much of anything. Further, if such a hag's hair is cut, the hag will wail and screech, she simply must, must, be re-attached to her sisters. If not, her magics will fail her! She will be alone! And defenceless! Whether or not this is actually true is up for debate, but the Hags certainly believe it, and that's nearly the same. Additionally, it is all magics that affect one affect the others. Harmful effects directed at one will be amplified by the hair, and affect all connected hags.

The most powerful Willow Hags, can apply their power to creating brand new limbs as well, stretching out new limbs until they are nightmare spiders of long, thin, knobbly limbs and fingers.

Willow Hag houses are also among the most unusual of Hag-hovels, in that they will actively avoid being out in the open, or indeed obvious to the eye in any way. Often they are suspended up in the trees, appearing as mighty bird-nests, strung up in a web of hair. The largest of Willow Hag-hovels will span several trees, with connected nest-bundles linked with hair-spun-walk-ways.

Many Willow Hags will also collect up their discarded hair, and spin it all about a small and dying or dead tree, as if the tree were the poor food of a spider, stored up in silk for later. The Hags will weave charms and dream-catchers and totems into the hair, forming it into cocoons for what she creates, and forming the hair itself into sigils and signs. Since it is her hair, it will protect her wherever she goes.

Angler Hags
They are some of the more playful of Hag-kind. They hunt often, and with great joy, though this joy is never shared with their prey.

They have wide, wide mouths with long thin needle-teeth, a wide pushed out jaw, and a strange, lure-feeler that sprouts from their forehead, spreading a baleful light from the sac that hangs from its end. It shines softly, slowly phasing through different colours and shades, never quite settling. The effect, is horribly hypnotic on most any creature. The Hags' favourite pastime is to wait for the new moon to hunt, on a dark cloudy night, and lure their chosen prey up to their home with their head-lanters, devour one in front of their comrades, then hunt the others as they run, using their lures to prevent them ever getting too far from the house. One or two more may be eaten during the hunt, and the rest are taken down to the 'larder' and kept for days or even weeks at a time. All of their prey that they catch go in the larder but for the ones they can't help but gobble up in the heat of the hunt.

Some of their preferred stalking spots are; up trees, submerged in bog-water, buried in the earth, crouched amidst thorns and nettles, covered in rusted blades and tools, and inside the rotting carcasses of other prey they have already caught.

They love it even more when prey try to escape within their house. Their hag-magics allow them to create darkness, and then solidify it. Never enough to restrain anyone, but enough to trip, to seal doors, to hide sets of keys, or pick locks. The chase is the most enjoyable part for the Angler Hag, they will never use their magics to kill, only herd and guide for the maximum fun. For the Hag at least.

Grandmother Angler Hags have found a way to wring even more enjoyment out of their unfortunate prey. They can make those they bite luminescent, softly glowing like their own head-lanterns. Their prey can never hide, never feel safe, never escape. The Hag's say that the fear makes the meat so much more flavourful after softened in the cellar for a few days.

Said meat is of course, eaten raw and bleeding.

A common warning in villages near to Angler Hag lairs; "never take a lamp left out in the street, no matter how dark it is". Its light is enough to pierce any darkness, even that left by the Angler Hags, but it is also steeped in a curse, its light will always lead the lantern's bearer to the home of the Angler Hags. Many are the stories of children lost at night who pick up the stray lantern to find their way home, and are lead only to the house of the Hags.

Brume Hags
It is foggy out today, but you must go out anyway, there is work to be done. You walk the roads you always walk, and you think you see a person, out in the mist, but it is nothing. You begin to work, and again, you see the silhouette out in the fog. You think that it is odd that the sun still has not burned away the fog, but shrug your shoulders, hope it brightens up later, and get back to work. The figure is still there, out in the fog. You call out, but there is no answer. You go to investigate. You are not seen again.

Brume Hags despise being seen; they are ugly, and they know it, they would prefer that others didn't ( of course, everyone knows that they are anyway). Paradoxically though, they also love people to know that they are there; they enjoy being objects of fear, seen from far away. So they wrap the air about them, a cloak of vapour and silence. They take it with them wherever they go, so that they are always hidden, almost.

Every now and again, a wind-ravaged village will live in fear of a hill whose top is always humped in fog and obscured from sight, even on the rare days where the sun beats down with fury. The warnings are all the same, "when the fog descends from the hill, stay inside." Crossing paths with another traveller on the road is a nerve-wracking event for these people, in all weathers. For these villages will also suffer through the worst excesses of climate; driving rains, harrowing winters, merciless sun. There will be little explanation for such weather, but every year the crops manage to struggle through just enough to keep the people hungry but not starving. Why give up what little they have? Besides, the roads were obliterated by mudslides from the rains last year. There's nowhere to go.

And always, the stories of dim shapes in the mist that eat people, or that whisper secrets that no-one could possibly know.

All this is obviously the work of the Brume Hag. Their power is in the manifestation of mists, and illusions of vapour and fog. They never go anywhere without their obscuring aura, and more-over, they also know everything about everything that is smothered in their fogs. They use this knowledge for their own purposes when they aren't hungry for the meat of men, and whisper the dark deeds and unkind thoughts of others through windows and under doors. Villages near a Brume Hag's home are never happy.

The Brume Hags can even turn the very weather against their host-village as well. The rune-carved weather-vanes perched atop their cottages have some power over the sky itself, and can direct the weather the Hag wishes, where they wish. So the village must suffer the worst weather the Hag can conjure. Luckily for them, the vanes have only some small influence over the mists and fogs of morning, so they do not come often. This vexes the Hags greatly, for they believe also, that if they are not shrouded in fog, their powers will abandon them.

The Brume Hag can only maintain their mists for a short time, enough perhaps to wander a few streets before being forced home again. The older the Hag, the longer she can hold up her blanket of whiteness. The most powerful of the Brume Hags can even fully become the mists they wander, incorporeal ghosts in the fog, swirling shapes that herald death.

And of course, those few times that the Hag's Weather Vane can manifest the mists, are the worst days of all...

Eritheze Hags [An addendum]
It should be noted by the dedicated Hag connoisseur, that the talismans and fetishes crafted by the Eritheze hags have on study, been found to serve a grim purpose. They siphon some sort of vital essence from the person from whom the key material was taken to craft the idol, which seems to manifest itself in subtle, but no less awful ways. Most of the effects of such a charm seem to the cursed being to be merely, 'bad luck', but it will slowly grow and become more and more severe. What might start as a seemingly unending cough will develop over the months into tuberculosis. What seems like clumsiness will eventually lead to tragic consequences.

That being said, the more charms and totems that adorn the Witch's hovel, the more skilled the Hags seems to become. There are reports (though as of yet unsubstantiated) that there is an Eritheze Witch with over a thousand such idols, and that her skill is great enough even to wake the dead.

Others in the Series

Part 1 - Introduction & Eritheze Hags

Part 3 - Luner, Murine, Briar Hags

Part 4 - Marrow, Byenic, Red Hags

Part 5 - Skitter, Matron, Scypho Hags

Part 6 - Crose, and Whisper Hags, and Retuning 5e's Hags

Hags - Part the First - [Eritheze Hags]

Of all the monsters presented in our dear little monster manuals, there are few I think have as much  tang and zest as Hags. Its in their whole vibe, being the kind-of weird but charming old lady out on the edge of town, a little too close to the deep, dark woods for comfort but hey, she seems to manage. Then you go and visit for tea and cupcakes, and there's just something a little... off. She seems nice and little and quaint like you expect an old granny to be, and there's just... a bit too many hair-totems for you not to notice. And then one night you're stolen from your bed, tied down onto the table as rat-fat candles burn down to stumps on your flesh as the Hag carves sigils and signs on your soft belly in berries and sheep guts, chanting softly, but slowly growing louder.

Then your bones get carved into little ivory-puppets for the Hag to send to spy on the local village.

I think the thing about Hags is that buried deep into their monster-DNA is how easy it is for them to not be combat encounters. Most other monsters, you fight them, kill them, done. Not necessarily so with Hags. Some might live in cold dark caves in the hills where no-one goes, sure; but some lurk in villages, even in positions of respect. They fit in with their illusions and remedy's that seem to be magic, but that she assures you are merely 'erbs and remedies that her grandmother taught her. There's this capacity for Hags to be both characters in their own right and also social encounters and challenges that many other monsters lack. They have their own quirks and foibles, preferred methods and magics, their own nefarious plots. She might have the village charmed. She might have persuaded the children of the village that her candy is really great and they should stop people who try to hurt her. They can bring out the worst in people, greed, ambition, envy. They can create problems for heroes that swords and steel can't fix. 

But of course, you can also fight them, and a proper fight with a proper Hag would be like something out of myth or fairy tale. This little old granny not transformed into this viscious monster, that knows her lair inside and out, and has all the tricks she needs to escape you and confound you, before leaping from the shadows, tearing and gouging with nails-like-claws and cracked black teeth. And they have magic and illusions and tricks and toys, strange knick-knacks and fetishes and totems to aid her. She'll never fight fair. In the village, she will out-smart you; in her lair, she has the home-advantage. She is strong where players may never expect it, and they all have great names like Aunty Briars or Nanny Rags to boot.

So yeah, I think Hags are pretty great, and I'm going to tell you about mine. I'll probably split it up into a few parts, 'cause I have fifteen of my own, and some revisions I'd use with the 5 that are currently released in 5th edition. They're fine... as it goes. But they can be more interesting. So we'll see how that goes. That one will probably be last. For now, lets dig into the Eritheze Witch, who I wrote a bit more than I intend for most of these because that's just what I was doing at the time.

Eritheze Witch

Erithize-Witches aren’t really all that bad as long as you don’t aggravate them, which is unfortunately all too easy.

When they move into an area, they arrive at night, when no-one will see them. In the morning, their junk-made pod-homes hang from trees like bloated and sickened fruit, or cling like mutant limpets to rocky crags. On the inside, the homes are just as filthy and loathsome as one might expect. Fetishes and totems adorn the area about her lair, all run through with brown needle-spines. The Witch will assure you that those curses are for others though, no-one as polite as you would ever end up like that. Never. Do not press her for details, or show any sign of discomfort at the decor. This will upset her.

Most towns and villages that have heard of Erithize-Witches will do nothing about it, not mention it, and avoid their hovels as best they can. They know what can be gained from them. They know the price is little. They know too, it is not worth the bother. Towns and villages that have not heard of Erithize-Witches, quickly learn the same. But not before blood-drained bodies adorn a street or two. 

They appear as one might expect for Witches whose homes dangle from distraught trees sagging from the weight of their noisome loads. Hunched over, the spinous process’ jutting from her back like fingers beneath cloth. Her face is contorted with age like wood warped in rivers, like her knuckles and finger joints. Hair like brambles, teeth like slate, eyes like wells. Do not point out any of these things to her though, this will upset her.   

If you wish to purchase the time and expertise of an Erithize-Witch, it will cost you very little in all probability. Only a lock of hair from someone you don’t really like, or a lost tooth of your least-liked sister’s brat, or a nail clipping of the local tax man. If asked about this, she will merely smile at you as best she can, and say that, of course, it’s nothing important, just a trifle. Nothing of any consequence. Do not question her further. This will upset her.

Erithize-Witches are healers and surgeons without compare. Any hurt less than mortal, any disease known or unknown, all are healed beneath the implements of the Witch. An Erithize-Witch has never failed to save a patient brought to them that wasn’t already dead at the door. No hurt or condition is beyond the abilities of an Erithize-Witch. Unfortunately for the patients, the methods she uses are less than comfortable, and never painless. Do not show any sign of this whilst in her care, however. This will upset her.

Most of the Witch’s remedies are thick and cloying soups and saps, that must be diffused through the blood for the maximum effect. Wounds are stitched together with uncanny skill, invisible threads and fine fine punctures. The Witch achieves this using her spines.

They sprout from the backs of her hands, and from the back of her head. When her services are purchased, she will pluck one out, and heat it by the fire before she uses it. Their tips are thin and ghost-like, sharper than any manufactured needle, and hollow as well. Hypodermic needles are fashioned with ease merely by slicing off the tip. Furthermore, despite the conditions of the hovels they dwell in, the wounds caused by a Witch’s needles never succumb to sepsis. Needless to say, the spines of a Erithize-Witch are exceptionally valuable, and the scalp of a Witch with needles intact will provide earnings to sustain a reasonably comfortable lifestyle for at least a couple of years. Do not let greed fill you up if you should see her spines though. This will upset her.

In the end, it is nearly impossible to be treated by the Witch without upsetting her. Occasionally someone manages to remain calm and polite enough throughout the whole ordeal that they emerge from the hovel whole and healthy, though it takes a very rare type of person to be able to bottle in the disgust and pain for as long as they remain in the Witch’s abode. If you should upset her, offering your service to her immediately for a night and a day will often calm her down. Unfortunately however, the Witch is almost never satisfied with the work once it is done. This, of course, upsets her.

When she is angered, the witch’s face will lengthen and stretch, long stabbing nose above a hooked chin crested by a leering maw of needle-teeth. Her back will snap and crack, and spines will stretch out from her back, a mantle of barbed death. Arms and legs will lengthen and thin, powerful and lithe. At this point, any pretense of humanity is fully abandoned. 

Those caught by an Erithize-Witch so angered will be tossed carelessly over her shoulder to land amidst the spines that sprout from her. The lucky ones are speared through completely and die in seconds or minutes. The unlucky must wait for every last drop of blood to be drained from them. The unluckiest are the last to be caught. They must endure the Witch’s personal ministrations, and she won’t let them die until she is quite finished with them.

Either way, after someone receives treatment, or angers her, further charms and totems will adorn the area about her home come the next morning.

Others in the Series

Part 2 - Willow, Angler, and Brume Hags (with a little more Eritheze)

Part 3 - Luner, Murine, Briar Hags

Part 4 - Marrow, Byenic, Red Hags

Part 5 - Skitter, Matron, Scypho Hags

Part 6 - Crose, and Whisper Hags, and Retuning 5e's Hags

Locations on the Briny Seas

1. On/In the shell of a: (roll a d4) 1 - gigantic crab, 2 - huge turtle, 3 - mega snail, 4 - humongous nautilus
2. In an underwater air bubble held up by: (roll a d4) 1 - an underseas cave, 2 - ancient and powerful magics, 3 - the machinery of some long extinct race, 4 - the will of the old gods of the seas,
3. A sunken ship; it once carried: (roll a d10) 1 - vast treasures, 2 - explorers from distant shores,         3 - very important people, 4 - a secret, 5 - slaves, 6 - something terribly dangerous, 7 - a message,   8 - a hostage, 9 - a home, 10 - soldiers and weapons
4. A building held down by kelp rope; it is home to: (roll a d6) 1 - a sea hag, 2 - a giant eel, 3 - fish men, 4 - a lobster prince, 5 - a reclusive wizard, 6 - an aging sea god
5. An old lighthouse; it: (roll a d6) 1 - was purposefully destroyed, 2 - leads ships astray, 3 - is haunted by sea spirits, 4 - it is the only ‘safe’ place for miles and miles, 5 - marks a deep and half-drowned dungeon, 6 - leads somewhere away from the waves
6. A lonely island, that is: (roll a d10) 1 - little more than jagged rocks, 2 - a jungle ‘paradise’, 3 - a series of tall peaks, strung with rope bearing a hanging city, 4 - alive!, 5 - the home of a trapped creature, 6 - the site of a wizard’s tower, 7 - only a fraction of a vast and dying whale, 8 - the only source of a rare commodity, 9 - all that is left of a shattered land, 10 - what nurtures an alien ecology
7. A mighty coral reef, it is: (roll a d8) 1 - the flesh of a sea god, 2 - poisoned and dying, 3 - the home of mighty predators, 4 - a key ingredient in many potions, 5 - a mermaid palace, 6 - the prison of an elder god, 7 - traced in the shape of an enormous sigil, 8 - tended to by coral-giants  
8. An underwater volcano, it was: (roll a d4) 1 - the tomb of a slain fire-deity, 2 - worshipped and lived upon by fish-folk, 3 - forge of the weapons of the underwater empire 4 - a road to hell itself
9. A raging Whirlpool that: (roll a d4) 1 - houses an opulent palace at its uttermost bottom, 2 - is a portal to a far, far off place, 3 - is the mouth of titanic sea-beast, 4 - is sentient; it hunts ships gleefully
10. A deep, deep sea-trench, it is: (roll a d10) 1 - the realm of the old, old gods, 2 - where the first men took shape in the primordial floes and whorls, 3 - where a god wounded the very world, 4 - the grave of a great city, swallowed by the sea, 5 - riddled with tunnels, which the home of a titanic octopus, 6 - a realm of preternatural darkness, 7 - a city to those who have never tasted the light, 8 - the resting place of a fallen star, 9 - a flooded, sunken underworld, 10 - a road to the empty and hanging roots of the world
11. A sunken city, it: (roll a d8) 1 - was cast down in its prime, 2 - is now inhabited only by ghosts, 3 - bustles with all the peoples of the sea, 4 - is ladened with slowly corroding treasure, 5 - is ruled by he who declares himself ‘king of all the sea’, 6 - teeters on the precipice of some vast abyss, 7 - is the hunting range of cackling sea-demons, 8 - is a monument to wrath of a god
12. Pillars of rock, billowing inky smoke; they are: (roll a d6) 1 - the dwelling of a mysterious sea-oracle, 2 - home to the shadows of the departed, 3 - the gills of some titanic, continent sized creature,          4 - shrouding something secret, 5 - the vents of some chthonic industry, 6 - home to some ancient beast, the last of its kind.

Modifications for the above results:

1 - only appears/is accessible at certain times,

2 - is only here for a little while longer,

3 - is fiercely guarded,

4 - it wanders the sea-bed,

5 - beloved by sea-spirits,

6 - appears to have been created in some unnatural way,

7 - is the resting place of things lost to the currents,

8 - is sentient, and powerful.

9 - is buried beneath underwater sand-dunes,

10 - is the temporary home of a wandering sea-god,

11 - is a pirate hideout,

12 - is well known, and a way-mark for many sailors.

Random Generators

These last few posts are just posting the automated generators that me and my gf made together. I believe one or two of them have already appeared as text versions on the blog, and the automated versions appeared on her blog a while ago too, but we're putting them here to consolidate them a little bit.
No biggie.

Aberration Generator

The problem with random generators is that they kind of struggle to make cohesively themed... anythings really without in-putting a lot of work and revising and re-rolling. This is especially prevalent with monster generators, which I have tried at least twice in vain to perfect.

However, aberrations don't really care much for cohesiveness now do they?

Campaign Element Inspiration

Campaign Inspiration (work in progress)

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Magic Item Smith Quirks

Chimera Generator

The main head determines the Chimera’s front legs, and the secondary head determines the Chimera’s back legs.

Goblin Trash-Barges

3d6 Goblins crew this disgusting perversion of maritime tradition. It sails the largest drains, occasionally fishing out choice pieces of effluence. d4 Goblins must be bailing out poop water or it will sink in d4 rounds. One of the goblins is the captain, and has double hit dice. The crew only occasionally fight themselves, and less occasionally they fight other wandering monsters. (d10 roll: 1 & 2 - They are scrapping amongst themselves, double chance to be surprised, 3, 4 & 5 - fighting another wandering monster, bonus points for another Trash-Barge (in which case they fight to the death))

One of the Barges was flushed through the Valves and by some miracle it survived the trip down. Now it sails the Dredge lake, though it can never return home.

Each Barge has at least one Deck weapon, a 1 in 3 chance of having two deck weapons, and a 1 in 3 chance of having a modification.

All Deck weapons require two goblins using their actions to use, except for fake goblins which is automatically activated at the start of combat.

Goblin Trash-Barges have 4d4 Integrity points. If an attack deals at least 20 damage to the barge, it removes an Integrity point. Each time the barge loses an integrity point, roll a d12. If the result is more than the Barge’s integrity points, the Barge is destroyed, killing half of the goblins on board, and dumping the remained in the drink.

d6 Trash-Barge Modifications

1 - Spider Legs: The ship can travel on the ground on mechanical spider legs. If attacked, and dealt 20 damage in total, the ship loses a point of integrity and becomes immobile.

2 - Very Fancy Flag: A symbol made from spread excrement adorns this filthy sheet. While it flies, all goblins that can see it always pass Morale Checks.

3 - Living Figurehead: Fights like a goblin, but can’t move. Can be killed like a goblin, which inflicts a point of hull damage. It is wooden, but quite flimsy.

4 - Submersible: Can travel beneath the water, silently. Relatively silently. If it has taken any damage, when the barge submerges it immediately sinks, killing all on board.

5 - Rocket Boosters: When activated, the ship immediately moves forward 60 feet, and then a further 60 feet at the end of the next turn. Each time this happens, the Barge loses a point of integrity.

6 - Crow’s Nest: Has a cage on the top of the mast. Full of crows. They are very noisey. And they shit everywhere. No further benefit.

d10 Trash-Barge Deck-Weapons

1 - Cannon: Target player must make a DC 9 dexterity save. Then, roll a d6. 1 - The cannon actually fires, the target player takes 10d10 bludgeoning damage if they failed their saving throw. 2 - It belches out flame instead, all creatures within a 10 foot cone, originating from the cannon aimed at the original target, take 2d6 fire damage.. 3 - It was a dud, and the cannon does not fire this turn. 4 - The cannon slightly explodes, killing one of the goblins crewing it. 5 - The Cannon really explodes, killing all goblins within 5 feet, dealing 2d6 fire damage to other creatures within 5 feet, and removing an integrity point from the Barge. 6 - The Cannon really really explodes, destroying the ship, and killing all goblins on board, and dealing 4d8 fire damage to everything else on board.

2 - Chain-Flenser: A wooden, crank-powered disk with chains attached. When spun, the chains whip around, dealing 2d4 slashing and 2d4 bludgeoning damage to non-goblin creatures within 5 feet of it. The first time it is used in a combat however, it also flenses d3 goblins.

3 - Harpoon Gun: Makes a ranged attack against a creature. If it hits, it deals d6 damage to the target, who must then make a Strength saving throw. If they fail, they are dragged next to the barge, and is restrained. If the target passes the saving throw, the harpoon is ripped off of the deck of the barge, removing a point of integrity.

4 - Fist-Box-O-Matic: When activated, draw a 10 foot line from the weapon. The first creature on the line must make a dexterity saving throw, taking 2d6 bludgeoning damage on a failure. If the creature succeeds, the next creature on the line must make the same save. If all creatures on the line succeed, the fist is broken, and acts as difficult terrain.

5 - Gattling Gun: This weapon is just a wooden wheel with 4 goblins strapped to it with bows. As the wheel is spun, the goblins fire their bows, and they are trained only to fire when the wheel spins. The more it spins, the dizzier the goblins get. When the Gun is spun, it makes four bow attacks. Each time the wheel is spun, the bow attacks get a cumulative -1 to hit. The goblins can be attacked as normal, and are automatically hit. Many goblins either have an absolute blast being part of the gun, or absolutely despise it and their crew-mates.

6 - Grapeshot Cannon: Its a cannon that shoots mushed up grapes. When aimed at a creature, it must make a dexterity save or be blinded until the end of its next turn.

7 - Sword-Arms: Has many mechanical arms armed with swords attached to its side. The Barge can make d6 goblin sword attacks when it is activated. If any roll 1 on their attack roll, it breaks, and future rolls for the number of attacks gain a cumulative -1. If this roll ever rolls a negative number, the Sword-Arms breaks, killing the goblins manning it, and removing a point of integrity of the Barge.

8 - Lightning Orb: When activated, this metal orbs sparks with lightning. Roll a d10. On a roll of 1 or 2, a bolt of lightning strikes the goblins manning it, killing them. On a 3 or 4, it strikes another member of the crew, killing them. On a 5 or 6, it strikes a random creature, dealing d4 lightning damage. On a 7 to 8, it strikes d4 random creatures dealing d4 lightning damage. On a 9 or 10, it strikes a random creature and dealing d4d10 lightning damage.

9 - Fake Goblins: Literally sacks of shit, inexpertly dressed to look like something somewhat adjacent to goblins. Flung out of the side of the Barge at the start of the fight, between 5 and 10 feet from the side of the ship. If a character misses an attack by more than 5 whilst within 5 feet of the barge’s side, make a save vs. poison or be poisoned until the end of your next turn. Only the most delusional creatures actually would mistake these for actual goblins.

10 - Self-Destruct Button: When pressed, destroys the ship, and all creatures within 20 feet of the button take 8d6 fire damage. Needless to say all goblins on board will be slain.