Teeny Tiny Tales of Terror: Catching Up

[Mangrum]

My mistake; manes are in Book of Vile Darkness. (They may well be reprinted in the more recent book on the Abyss; I don't know.)

Formed directly from the souls of chaotic evil creatures sent to the Abyss for eternity, manes are the lowest form of the demons, even lower than the dretches. They have no magical abilities at all and are almost mindless. They act more like wild beasts than anything else.

Manes are 3-foot-tall humanoids with pale, bloated flesh riddled with maggots. Their white eyes show no signs of sentience, but their claws and jagged teeth betray their feral nature.

When killed, they burst into a cloud of acidic vapor.

[Joël of the FoS]

Entropic reaper [Libris Mortis]

“I at first thought this thing to be a grim reaper. While there are many similarities in appearance, this unliving creature is much more powerful. But its scythe was an amazing thing. It was fabricated out of darkness, and when it moved around the creature, it seemed like light itself was attracted to it, making the area where the unloving stood bleaker. The blade struck one of my henchmen, and the men dissolved into something not unlike ectoplasm. It seemed very painful. But as I wanted to neutralize this unliving and grasp its scythe, it retracted to the plane of shadows, and then fled from me. It’s a major disappointment, as this blade looked promising for a new dominant arcane incantation. It reminded me of these theories on arcane matter-sucking holes in the sky. Very promising and intriguing…”

- a lich’s journal in Nova Vaasa

[Matthew L. Martin]

My mistake; manes are in Book of Vile Darkness. (They may well be reprinted in the more recent book on the Abyss; I don't know.)

Consider this confirmed; they're in Fiendish Codex I: Hordes of the Abyss.

Matthew L. Martin

[Nathan of the FoS]

Demon, mane [Book of Vile Darkness]

"This place has its pleasures, but there is nothing here to compare to the great battlefields of Hell! Ah, there was delight! To have even a mane to slaughter would recall me to old times, at least. Have you seen a mane, Captain? Well, you missed nothing by the lack. They are puling miserable things, less even than a human, which they much resemble, though they are less clever; the worst of their wretched race. We mowed down a thousand in two minutes at the Carceri Flats and were bathed in their ichor as if it were a spring dew! Though, to be sure, they are not toothsome--the maggots, you know."

From The Beast of Ehrendton

Demon, quasit [Monster Manual]

Then there came a hideous little man, a man with wings; his skin was green and covered in boils, and he had long clever fingers and long sharp teeth. He drank up the bowl of milk, and then he broke it--clack!--on the stone floor.

Then Jolenta knew her present had been accepted. "Little man, little man," she called. "Teach me how to get gold and jewels and a fine young husband, and you shall sleep on my pillow and eat from my plate, and I'll give you a lock of my long gold hair."

The little man turned to her and smiled and said, "Jolenta, my dear, you're a wise girl and you know how to entice a fellow; but you must give me one thing more, and that's your first-born child."

"Done!" said Jolenta, and the little man laughed and laughed, and leapt to her shoulder and whispered his first secret to her.

The Red Witch, traditional Tepestani

[Jakob]

Demon, quasit [Monster Manual]

Then there came a hideous little man, a man with wings; his skin was green and covered in boils, and he had long clever fingers and long sharp teeth. He drank up the bowl of milk, and then he broke it--clack!--on the stone floor.

Then Jolenta knew her present had been accepted. "Little man, little man," she called. "Teach me how to get gold and jewels and a fine young husband, and you shall sleep on my pillow and eat from my plate, and I'll give you a lock of my long gold hair."

The little man turned to her and smiled and said, "Jolenta, my dear, you're a wise girl and you know how to entice a fellow; but you must give me one thing more, and that's your first-born child."

"Done!" said Jolenta, and the little man laughed and laughed, and leapt to her shoulder and whispered his first secret to her.

The Red Witch, traditional Tepestani

Nathan, this is sooooooo cool.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Nathan, this is sooooooo cool.

Thanks. Any guesses on which fairy tale this is supposed to echo?

BTW, I'm tapped out on this set--I don't own the books for the rest. And when is Alligator Lenny gonna get some love?

[Mangrum]

I'm pondering whether I want to use a rhyme that was actually written for a separate character.

[Gonzoron of the FoS]

Thanks. Any guesses on which fairy tale this is supposed to echo?

A little rumplestiltskin-ish, no?

I'm having trouble with the remaining ones too. The few I have the books for just aren't calling to me. (Alas, I don't have nearly the stamina and creativity of Nathan for these. Some evoke something for me and some don't.).

[Nathan of the FoS]

A little rumplestiltskin-ish, no?

Why, yes, yes it is.

[Rotipher of the FoS]

Darkenbeast [Monsters of Faerûn]

"...no mistaking it, Old Silas was as cruel a man as any in these parts: vicious to his wife, brutal to his boys and scornful to his daughters. Worst of all, by far, to his beasts, from his broken-down carthorse to those miserable sacks of bones and feathers in the henhouse. He starved his cattle, kicked his sheep into moving if they wouldn't heed his raggedy old dog; he cut the throats of piglets without even hiding them from the sow's sight, and what kind of a gods-fearing man does that, I ask you? If ever a farmer deserved his own livestock's hatred, Old Silas was that man.

"Thinking back, now, I can't help but wonder if that foul fiend of a Hazlani knew Silas was such a man, when he choose whose farm to work his deviltries upon. Because those things he'd warped and twisted those dumb, pitiable beasts into -- the things that tore Old Silas to pieces, first of all their prey -- seemed like that very hatred he'd kindled in them, made flesh: vile hatred for him, and for all men, and boasting all the claws and spines and teeth and terror them poor beasts must've wished they'd had, to turn against such a cruel, uncaring master...."

-- Malcolm Byrne, witness to the Hillsdarrow Farm massacre

[Joël of the FoS]

Eye of fear and flame [Book of Vile Darkness]

The Ministry of Finance cleared his throat, and said: “my dear Kingfuhrer, we again got a report from Stadtfuhrer Theodorn in Morfenzi. She … mentions again of a powerful undead creature praying on your populace living near the Rift. Her efforts to get rid of it failed so far, because she hasn’t enough soldiers to make an effective hunt. She asks for a battalion of soldiers dedicated to this task, led by a Talon. With …”

“Bloody nonsense”, interrupted Vlad Drakov, while pounding his throne with his fist. “See what you get when promoting a woman? That really was a silly idea, Vigo!”

After a moment of silence in the room, he got calmer and asked “What did she say of this damned bag of bones again?”

The Ministry of Finance again cleared his throat, and looked at his notes. “A vicious skeleton-like thing, but with magic powers, one…”

“Bah!”, said Drakov.

“In short, it is tricking the peasants to kill each other, and was seen throwing balls of fire at the peasants”, he finished.

“Great father, if I may”, said Vigo, “I would like to head this expedition and get your land cleared of this undead thing.”

“Not a chance in hell”, replied Vlad Drakov. “What does she think we are, this schoolgirl in Morfenzi? Bug collectors? If we agree for this one, we will get endless similar requests about anything and any matter from all over Falkovnia. No, make sure instead this Gondegal and his fools learn of this creature through the usual means. Let them do the dirty work for us”.

“Brilliant, my great lord!”, said the Ministry of Finance, while Vigo was tightening his fists behind his cloak.

[Joël of the FoS]

Forlorn husk [Sandstorm]

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, you heard our spell casting client this afternoon, we are soon going to Har’Akir”, said the woman, after taking a long breath at her expensive cigar.

“But, Madame Montarri, how are we to get there and how will we find such a creature?”, said a younger men around the table. “Its remains will be easy to bring back to Darkon after we kill it, but we will have to find it first! And Har’Akir is an endless field of sand”, he added.

“Hear, hear… First, my tender one, let me the mist navigation part. I got a good sense for this, and a vistani head too, I might add”, she replied with a mischievous smile.

“Second, if I understand what our well paying client said, this undead creature is thirsty for water”, she continued. “Not blood or anything, just plain water. So we’ll bring plenty of it to fly fish it. Barrels and barrels. It might be long, as you say, but this contract is the juiciest in a long time”

“And what our spell caster client wants to do with the remains of this creature isn’t our business. Our business is to get there, and bring it back, dead.”

- Heard at a Red Vardo Traders reunion

[Joël of the FoS]

Death dog [Fiend Folio]

We were spending a few days in Har’Akir to meet scholars there, actually looking to identify the symbols found by our uncle on Ivana’s Death Stone long ago.

But we also had read about Anhktepot’s tomb in his notes, and were eager to explore it, and at least locate it on a map. Because this place was said to be a den of evil according to our uncle. Alas, nobody in the small hamlet of Mubar wanted to show us the way, less escort us there. Dogs, they said, large dogs in the desert near the crypt. But not ordinary wild dogs, they said. They told us of two-headed dogs and we wondered for a while if they were not pulling our leg. Later, Allam, one of the scholars we were to meet, confirmed the existence of these two-headed dogs strangely confining themselves to the crypt surrounding area.

Unprepared to fight magical beasts this time, we didn’t go near the crypt

From Laurie Weathermay-Foxgrove journals.

[Joël of the FoS]

Deathbringer [Monster Manual II]

“Yes, those war machines made of corpses in Cavitius were terrible. But that wasn’t all. They had one of their generals, or whatever title it had as a commanding officer, a tall, large brute with a large spiked war flail in each hand.

This general didn’t stay back to command its troops from a safe distance: it stood first line and was also a terrible warrior.

One of our best cavalier tried to take it down, but the brute made the horse trip on the ground, and then it endlessly flailed horse and man on the ground until they were unrecognizable from each other.

Then it laughed maniacally and some of the human warriors around it fell on the ground or had nasty bloody wounds appearing on them, while the undead were healed by the same supernatural effect!

It was later sent to a magical pit in the ground by a magic user on our side. But it wasn’t destroyed, I’m quite sure of it.”

- a mercenary tale

[Joël of the FoS]

Deathlock [Libris Mortis]

… red with blood, Ah! Ah! The petty necromancer also wrote me from his island about another strange unwanted effect when one worthy wizard is trying to become a lich. Sometimes, the wizard fails to attain this higher state of mind, but instead of being destroyed, it becomes something N. calls a “deathlock”. He describes it as a spell casting corpse of minor abilities, but who has lost its once keen mind and wishes the destruction of all things instead of the continuation of its arcane researches. It will even destroy its whole library¸ research facilities and all it has built in its wizard life.

Becoming insane, another pathetic peril those jailers have found to block us from our shining destiny. Ah! But this warning happens to late for me, for you see already …

On a torn paper found in Il-Aluk