Home forum Help Search Login Register

Site Sections

User Info

Welcome, Guest. Please login or register.
Did you miss your activation email?
July 02, 2020, 03:36:43 PM

Login with username, password and session length

Recent Topics

Site Tips

Only Admins and Global Moderators can post threads on the News forum, but all logged users can reply to them.
Against the Shadow  |  Creatures  |  Morda-Worgs


Gilessa laughed as her feet flew over the waving grass, inhaling the spring air deep into her little lungs and leaping from tussock to tussock.
    "Papa... I'm going out into the plains!" she shrieked out, spinning on her toes to look back. Her father raised himself from the field her was sowing and raised a sun-worn hand in acknowledgement. Inticipating the old man's request, Farrula the wogren rose to his feet and trooted towards Gilessa. She clapped in deight as the grizzled old hound came up to her and brushed his bristly, warm flank against her cheek.  
    The halfling girl ran off into the plains with thee wogren loping faithfully behind her. Eventually, she decided she wanted to play hide and seek. However, no matter how cunningly she hid herself, worming her body into a hollow log, crouching under a tussock, flattened on top of a tall stone monolith, Farrula's cold wet nose always lead him to her and made her scream when he poked her in the neck with it. "It's not fair," she chided the wogren, burying her head into its mane. "You have to give me a bigger head start." The hound whuffed in agreement.
    So Gilessa ran off again, this time determined to find the best hiding place ever. And that she did, ducking into a dry stream bed. Craning her head out, she smirked He'll never find me here!... but the thought was cut off with a silent gasp as she saw a canine body padding through the grass. At first she thoughtit was Farrula coming after her... but this wogren was brown, not grey... and looked hurt!
    Gilessa leaped out of the wadi and dashed towards the strange wogren. As she drew closer, she saw it was [i]very sick... limping on broken paws, with filmed over eyes and painful scabs and gashes along its flanks. "Poor thing!" the girl cried, pulling her medicine-satchel around as she approached slowly, letting it get her scent so as not to startle it.
    The wogren snuffled pitifully, nearly stumbling. Gilessa tried to get to its side, to examine the wounds and use the healing skills her parents had taught her. She made comforting, cooing noises as turned its bloodied head towards her.
    She kept making those noises right up until the moment the wogren began to chew through her neck.

The legate Morda is a brilliant but despicable man, a master of the arts of selective breeding and necromancy. When he turned his incisive mind towards the halfling problem facing the Shadow, he determined that the best course of lay in turning their precious friends against them; corrupt the wogren, and the halflings lose hope.
    Morda constructed dire breeding pits souh of the Pellurian, horrible place where wogren were herded and dragged and then mutated with mate selection, breeding them with direwolves, worgs and hellhounds, and using dark corpomorphic spells, changing them into abject monsters. These morda-worgs ('worg' is itself a corruption of the word 'wogren') are shock troops and terror-bringers, used to demoralise and destroy free halflings and cause total despair in the slave population.

Type: Changes to 'Aberration' for the purpose of spells and other effects, but do not change HD, BAB, skill points or saves.
Special Attacks: Trip (Ex):  A wolf that hits with a bite attack can attempt to trip the opponent as a free action without making a touch attack or provoking an attack of opportunity. If the attempt fails, the opponent cannot react to trip the wolf.
Special Qualities: Blindsight 100 ft., Scent
Environment: Central plains and southern savannah.
Organization: Solitary or pack (6-10).
Challange Rating: Varies.
Alignment: Varies.

- - -

Pox-worgs are emaciated and disease-ridden, staggering abominations that seem more than half-dead already. Sores weep pus and blood constantlyThey are the heralds of plague and pesilence, sent ot sow illness amongst the enemies of the Shadow, and horrify halflings and wogren alike with the cruelty of the fate that awaits them.

Speed: Reduced to 20'
Feats: Gain Toughness as a bonus feat.
Special Attacks: Miasma: Anyone within 10' of a pox-worg must make a Fort 14 save or become infected with blinding sickness or filth fever (50% chance for either). Each person only risks being infected once by a given worg.
Challange Rating: +1.
Alignment: Always neutral evil.

Short, stocky and feral looking, fang-worgs are born for slaughter. Thier compact bodies are filled with an insatiable hunger for bloody meat, preferably halfling. They are used as living weapons of destruction, or very rarely, kept heavily tied and caged and used as a menacing guard for slave camps. They are ravenous and violent,barely controllable by their masters.

Damage: Fang-worgs bite has a base damage of d8 istead of d6.
Special Attacks: Rage: Fang-worgs can rage as a barbarian with a level equal to their HD. They are not fatigued afterwards, however.
Challange Rating: +1.
Alignment: Always chaotic evil.

Bond-worgs tend to be black, steel-coloured or some combination thereof, and are longer of limb and smaller framed than normal wogren. These creatures are the embodiment of imprisonment and slavery; metal rivets are fixed into their joints, tearing and causing pain whenever the worg moves; lengths of chain are woven into their skin and fur, dripping blood; leather straps pull the worgs lips' away form its teeth and stretch the skin over its face, giving it a tight, menacing visage. Sometimes, they are hailess. Bond-worgs stalk after nomadic halflings until an opportunity presents itself, then they pounce, using their powers to capture the halflings for slavery.

Armour Class: +2 armour bonus due to metal implements.
Special Attacks: Paralysis breath (Su): Once per 10 rounds, a bond-worg can exhale a 15' cone of silver gas. Any creature in the gas must make a Fort 12 save or be paralysed for d4+1 rounds.
Challange Rating: +1.
Alignment: Always lawful evil.

Author: Dirigible

Midnight Community

Download the ToS!

Copyright Info

The Midnight Setting is Copyright 2003, Fantasy Flight Publishing, Inc.
Powered by MySQL Powered by PHP Powered by SMF 1.1.21 | SMF © 2015, Simple Machines
AtS Dark Mercury design by Nifelhein, based on the Mercury theme by Bloc
Valid XHTML 1.0! Valid CSS!
Page created in 0.073 seconds with 25 queries.
TinyPortal © 2005-2011