Items and Spells of the Waste

Can't think of anything beneficial the book could do that would simultaneously maintain the simplicity of the concept.

Except--maybe the Legend Lore actually works, but all the information you receive is tainted with things you'd expect (changing a detail here or there). The book consistently melds truth with fiction, slowly-but-surely feeding you a worldview that consists of your own (A Dustman reading the book's legends would receive legends consistent with their Dustman beliefs, Bleakers would receive legends consistent with their Bleaker beliefs, so on). This makes the book somewhat useful, but also incredibly dangerous (anyone who reads it will eventually become absurdly fanatical towards their own personal belief).

And maybe all the spells work, too, but any spell scribed from the spellbook is somehow twisted and profane. Very simple things wrong with the spell but make them still useful; fireballs that are modified to do negative energy damage, so on. Minor 'wtfs?' that eventually acrue until the point where the caster is a walking hodge-podge of fiendishly-tainted spell-spewing self-absorbed arrogance.

Possibly also the book feeds you Spell-Tricks. I had come up with this weird idea long ago--I'd need to flesh it out more--the idea was something along the lines of spells you memorize that take up spell-slots but aren't actually the spells you thought you memorized. A fireball that doesn't do what it's supposed to do (but may present you with the illusion of it working just fine), or a spell that's actually a living entity that refuses to be cast or forgotten and starts whispering to you in your brain (maybe even offering you power in exchange for doing terrible, profane things to your friends--being able to 'cast' spells itself).

That might sap the idea of its elegance, though.

The Codex of Lore/The Codex of Ignorance (Artifact)

Bound in the gray wart-infested skin of a night-hag and emblazoned with the bronze face of a cackling Hordling, the Codex of Lore (often known merely as the Codex) is shrouded--literally--in a cloud of ignorance and misconception. All attempts to identify this manual--by magic or otherwise--gives only half the story.

The book is a compilation of all known legends and lore, including nearly every spell ever written. One needs only to know the spell or subject of the legend to access the book's power. By carefully studying the book's contents for an hour, the reader may cast Legend Lore for free or find a complete copy of one level 1 spell (to find copies of higher level spells, another hour of study must be spent for each level of the spell above the 1st). This copy cannot be used as a scroll, and if the page is removed from the book, it immediately becomes blank. Mages may scribe the copy of the spell onto a scroll as normal. Once the page is turned or the book is closed, the reader must re-study the book to gain a copy of the spell once again.

However, everything is not as it seems. The legends the book relates to its reader are generally true--but invariably contain some small inconsistency or lie. These deceits are aimed to convince the reader of their own world-view, and often are designed to both reassure the reader that their beliefs were right all along and that their cause is righteous. For instance, a Dustman reading the book will find the legends are reflections of the idea that the world is dead, while Bleakers will find the legends reflective of a multiverse without meaning. Someone self-centered will see their self-centeredness reflected in the text--with even the legendary paladins sometimes acting petty. Eventually, anyone who reads the book for too long becomes self-absorbed and obsessed with their own beliefs, sacrificing their wisdom and open-mindedness for knowledge.

In addition, any spell scribed from the book is a twisted copy of its original. These flaws may seem minor at first, but become much more dangerous as the level of the spells increase. Magic Missiles may do nothing more than produce a harrowing scream when cast, but a Fireball may instead do negative energy damage instead of fire damage--and a Flesh to Stone spell may be replaced with a Disintegrate. These changes should be determined by the DM and remain unknown to the caster until they actually attempt to cast the spell. Whatever the change is, it is always aimed to increase a caster's propensity for destruction and evil.

Whenever a reader uses the book to cast Legend Lore or uncover a copy of the spell, they must make a Will save versus a 25 DC or lose a single Wisdom point (as per the normal rules of ability drain). The reader remains unaware of this loss. This book cannot be used to find copies of spells over level 9.

Gloomweed Poultice

Harvested by the gray sisters from a type of weed that feeds off the corpses of men who died in vain, this rare-but-powerful poultice has the ability to make any target so despairingly banal that normal sentient creatures will often forget (or even refuse to acknowledge) that they're there. Some say that this is in part the secret to the Night Hag's lack of notoriety; many smear themselves with this poultice daily, making themselves so absolutely unremarkable that only the most clever and wise of creatures can perceive them.

When the poultice is smeared upon a creature or object (this is treated as a standard action that provokes attacks of opportunity), any intelligent creature who is not looking for something or someone out of place automatically fails to perceive them, and anyone who is looking must first make a Will save versus a DC of 15 before they may make any Spot or Listen checks. The effect of the poultice lasts for an entire day or until the user takes a violent action--treat this as an Invisibility spell for determining what the user can and can't do.

More powerful versions of this poultice are said to exist--some even claim that the Night Hags have obscured an entire race using a more pure form of this poultice, which is so potent that no one is capable of even remembering that the poultice exists, or how it is made (except the Night Hags, of course).

All Night Hags are immune to the effects of Gloomweed Poultice. However, immunity to illusion offers no protection from its effects.

My reservation about turning it into a psionic object was that it seemed to detract something from the mythical perspective; the idea wasn't that this actually clouds a target's mind, but literally makes something more forgettable, in a very broad sense--in that if you had enough of the poultice, with a pure enough sample, you could make the entire Multiverse forget you existed. Hell--maybe there's an entire fourth layer to the Gray Wastes we don't know about, because so many Gloomweeds grow there.

It might be wiser to make it into a psionic ability, though. Merely for the benefit of compatibility it provides (if it's a psionic power, we instantly know who it will and who it won't work on). However, the reason its save DC is so low (15) is because the idea was that it works on anything with an intelligence score (even undead and sentient constructs).

That being said:

The Chi'kaa'kee

Psionic bugs.

These fist-sized flying beetles have the ability to control lesser, non-intelligent insects at will--and use it. Feasting upon the brains of the dead (or wounded) soldiers in the battlefields of Oinos, they hunker down in the hollowed-out skull cavity, call their lesser brethren to them, and proceed to re-animate the corpse through a psionically-coordinated effort of thousands upon thousands of centipedes, millipedes, flies, maggots, carrion beetles, and every other insect imaginable--combined with a little helpful telekinesis. The result is that every corpse the Chi'kaa'kee infect becomes a living colony of scavengers.

Similar to Cranium Rats, the Chi'kaa'kee possess a collective consciousness reinforced by their telepathic connection to one another. To speak with one Chi'kaa'kee is to speak with them all. Their main concern is the discovery of more brains (especially psionically ripe ones) and compiling secrets (which they manage to acquire from the brains of those they eat). They have extensive dealings with the gray sisters.

Chi'kaa'kee prefer to live in tunnels and passageways underneath the Glooms, where their hosts will ripen to a particularly pungent smell. Once they've stripped a host down to the bones, they'll immediately abandon it and seek a new one.

Speaking to the Chi'kaa'kee is often a horrifying experience--they can only communicate with telepathic shrieks, their thoughts garbled and alien. Anyone on the receiving end of these telepathic messages must make a Will save (DC: 15) at first contact to prevent themselves from becoming shaken for the duration of the encounter. If they fail the save, they must make one every time the Chi'kaa'kee contact them after this encounter; once they make the save, they are immune to the effect.

The Rage

Pure rage can be extracted from the frothing wrath of Hordlings and distilled within the gray sisters' twisted cauldrons of alchemically-brewed emotion to create samples of the Rage--a type of magically-born drug that acts as insulation against the Gray Waste's emotion-sapping nature, yet simultaneously risks catapulting the victim into a state of murderous rage.

Sold by Night Hags freely (after all, those who end up killing all their friends often end up devolving into larvae), this potent drug comes in the form of a potion with a pinkish hue that seems to constantly be swirling and frothing with near-boiling anger. When imbibed, the imbiber must make a Will save (DC: 16) or immediately fly into a blind murderous rage. They take on the benefits of a level 1 barbarian's rage ability, choosing targets at random (starting with those who are closest within their range). While raging, the character may take no action except ranged melee attacks and movement--they automatically fail all skill-checks not directly associated with movement (climb, jump, swim, balance, and tumble). Every round after the first, the victim may make a Will save with a cumulative +2 penalty to try and break free of the rage--if they make 8 failures in a row (the DC reaches 30), they become completely lost to the rage. Nothing can restore the character beyond a Greater Restoration, Wish, Limited Wish, or Miracle. Over a period of 1d4 days, the gibbering and enraged character will rapidly begin to lose their human characteristics and become a Hordling. Once this process is complete, there is no way to restore the character--beyond the interference of a Deity, they are completely lost.

If the character makes the Will save to break the rage, they are fatigued and gain no more benefits from the potion. If they make the initial Will save, they gain both a +2 Morale bonus to Strength and Constitution and immunity to the Gray Waste's emotion-sapping effects for one day.

I think I see what you mean--yes, that would work very well for the sake of determining time and cost of production (although you still need to go to the Gray Wastes and find yourself some Gloomweeds growing on dead soldiers to make any of it).

Another good way to limit it is to say that no one knows (or remembers) how to make the poultice, because the poultice's effect is so powerful it actually makes people forget how even the process is performed.

Being immune to this effect, Night Hags can remember it just fine.

They have bottled gehreleths?! D:

Fair note! I'm kind of enamored of the idea that Lurklings are sniveling cowards when cut off from the Will, but that is a bit chaotic.

Now I really like that last idea >=D

"Drink this."

"What is it?"

"Puts hair on your bones."

*Drinks, must make Fortitude save or LURKLING BURSTS OUT OF CHEST, SCREAMING.*

'Iavas' wrote:

And with that disturbing picture, I am only left wondering - are these constructs made simply to make out with people and then freak the hell out of them afterwards?

YES.

I think either this should replace Gravedirt, Gravedirt replaces this, or the two should be condensed into one another. They're basically serving the same purpose--bringing back loved ones for malicious purposes.

I actually like the whole vines-in-a-corpse theme going on here, so I'd tend to favor this one over Gravedirt; although I also really love the idea of building bodies out of the dirt from graves.