A shirt design from Woot!

This evening I attended a social gathering. My sister has just turned 14, and I had dinner with her and the rest of our family. It proceeded as family gatherings often do, which is to say that it wasn’t an experience I’d share on a gaming blog. Late in the evening, though, my sister commented that she’d like to join me in playing D&D someday.

“Want to play now?” I asked.

By happenstance, I had a set of 7 dice with me, and I always try to keep pens and paper handy regardless of where I am. I had everything I needed to run a game, and it was a perfect opportunity to try out an experiment I’ve been wanting to attempt for awhile. The experiment is simple: using whatever tools are on hand at the time, introduce a group of new players to gaming by making up a game on the spot.

The three siblings sitting nearest to me were all interested, so I wrote out the six basic stats on three pieces of paper. I told them all to roll 3d6 for their stats, in order, to roll 2d8 for their HP, and to write down one thing their character was good at. From there I figured everything could be handled by d20 checks against their stats, until I encountered a situation where they needed something deeper.

The process proved to be a little awkward. Not because any of my players had difficulty understanding my instructions, but because we only had a single six sider to share, and three people each needed to roll it 18 times. It wasn’t a quick process, and unfortunately the players weren’t even able to explore the first room of the dungeon before the rest of the dinner party agreed that it was time to leave.

I was disappointed. I could see their eyes lighting up as they just barely started to engage with the game world. My experiment was succeeding, I was creating fun out of nothing but experience-tempered improvisation. I didn’t have much to ruminate on, but I was at least encouraged that it was worth trying this again.

It wasn’t until the drive home that I realized I had wasted a lot of the game’s time. I asked the players to roll stats, and it took a good 8 minutes to get everybody’s rolling taken care of. And in the small amount we played, we never actually used those stats. It’s not hard to imagine that we could have gone 15 minutes or an hour, or even several hours without actually needing every single character to use every single one of their ability scores.

Instead, what I could have done is simply given each of them a piece of paper, and told them to write down one thing they were good at. Once that was done, I could have just started the damn game.

If in the first room there was a large rock, and one of the players wanted to lift it, then I could have told them to roll 3d6, record that as their strength, then roll a d20 against that strength score. The stats still exist, they just exist in a state of quantum flux until they are actualized by rolling a check.

Something I’ll try next time for sure.

There is nothing tricky about the dancing skeleton room.

Nor is there anything deadly.

Nor even is there anything dangerous.

No map has been provided, because the room is both extremely plain, and extremely variable. It may be any shape or size, and have any number of doors. Its features may be entirely plain, or if you wish, the room may have wooden floors and mirrors on all of the walls. The only important element of the room is that it be large enough to support a large number of medium creatures. I’ve used 50-100, though larger or smaller groups may also work.

Upon opening the door to the room, the players are greeted with a truly bizarre sight. Droves of skeletons are dancing in unison. Graceful, energetic, wild dancing, with occasional maneuvers which could never be performed by a body with muscles and ligaments. One style of dance flows seamlessly into another, and no dance ever repeats.

The skeletons will ignore the players unless the players interact with them. If the players dance with the skeletons, the skeletons will gather around them and emulate the player’s movements. If the player sings, the skeletons will try to sing backup–though their voices are a high pitched screeching which can’t enunciate words very well at all. The skeletons will be intrigued by anything which involves new and exciting ways to dance. And that is all they care about. If the players propose a dance competition, the skeletons will gleefully participate. But the winner will quickly grow bored of their prize once they run out of ways to dance with it.

If at any point the skeletons do have reason to perform an action, they will dance while they do it. Even tied up, a skeleton will find a way to rhythmically wiggle in their bonds. The only time the skeletons will stop dancing is if the players deal damage to one of their number. In this event, the skeletons will wail and cry in their high pitched screeching. They will flee from the players, and cower in the corner as far from their attackers as they can. Once they have been attacked, they will not dance again. If the player returns to this room after some time has passed, she will find the skeletons standing nearly motionless, shifting sadly from one foot to the other.

These skeletons provide no experience points.

I’ve always hesitated to share the monsters I make for my games, because I believe monsters require art in order to be communicated clearly. Previous entries in the Merciless Monsters series have either relied on finding an image which looks kinda-sorta like what I imagine in my head, or on my ladyfriend’s marvelous art. If I had my way, she’d illustrate all of my posts, but she has this whole “life of her own” which gets in the way of that.

By now, though, I’ve accumulated quite a bestiary of monsters I created for fun or for my personal use It seems a shame not to share them, so I’m going to experiment with subjecting you all to my own doodles of my monsters. I’m sorry for the general lack of quality this will probably lead to. (Though, truth be told, I’m quite happy with how this one turned out).

Simonlefera are unnatural creatures, and no one is quite certain where they come from. They’ve been observed congregating around areas of profound magical energy–or places where such energy is later discovered. No mating rituals have ever been recognized, nor have the dissected bodies of the creatures revealed any obvious reproductive organs. Some scholars have suggested that Simonlefera may be proof of the long-discredited theory of spontaneous generation. Lacking any other hypothesis, this idea has begun to gain some traction.

In appearance, simonlefera resemble a bald human head with tough, rubbery skin. From where a normal human’s head would have ears, the Simonlefera has a massive pair of legs which resemble the hind legs of a grasshopper. When laid flat, these legs can be as much as 12ft long! These legs are used for moving quickly, and jumping as much as 30 times the creature’s height. Four smaller legs sprouting from the underside of the ‘head’ provide stability for forward motion. These legs can also cling to walls, allowing the Simonlefera to climb them as a spider does.

The eyes, while small and mounted much as a human’s eyes are, are multi-faceted like the eye of an insect. From the lower jaw grow two weak, spindly arms ending in 3-fingered hands. While capable of significant dexterity, these hands are largely useless. They seem to exist primarily as a means to interact with magic, though they are also used when the creature eats. Finally, from the creature’s chin grows what appears to be a long beard which drags across the ground. In fact this is a sensory device. It allows the Simonlefera to sense vibrations in the ground, replacing the functionality of the ears.

Bodies, or body parts from a simonlefera can often be sold to a wizard for a very good price. Various parts of their anatomy are of immeasurable use in magical research.

In terms of diet, simonlefera primarily sustain themselves on small mammals, such as rats, mice, rabbits, or ferrets. However, if need be, any meaty animal of this size will suffice, such as a frog or small bird. In addition to this diet, it is speculated that simonlefera also sustain themselves by drawing upon magic. None which have been removed from areas of strong magical energy have ever survived for more than a day; after which their head appears to “deflate.”

The most notable aspect of the simonlefera is their ability to use magic. This appears to be a natural trait, and draws on no known source of magical power. They are often able to cast both arcane and divine spells (though all of their magic use in fact registers as arcane). And as they grow older, their spell repertoire becomes even more diverse. While most of them can only access the most mundane spells, there appears to be no limit on their ability to cast. And when working in groups, even a skilled adventurer can be overwhelmed.

Despite their appearance, Simonlefera are not intelligent creatures. The chittering sounds they make do not have linguistic content.

Simonlefera

You hear a strange chittering sound, and what appears to be a human’s head on insect legs hops into view.

Simonlefera; CR 3; [Aberration] [Near Leylines] [Diurnal]

XP: 800
N Medium Aberration
Init +8; Senses Perception +10

DEFENSE

AC 16, touch 11, flat-footed 6 [10 + Dex(4) + Natural(2)]
HP 12 (4 HD, 4d6 + 0)
Fort +6 Ref +10 Will +10;

OFFENSE

Speed 50ft Climb Speed 20ft
Melee Kick + 7 (2d6 + 2) [May only use this attack on opponents behind it]

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Natural Caster(Su) Each time a Simonlefera gains a new hit die, it also gains access to a new spell which can be cast at will. The spells are determined randomly from the lists below. Any duplicate entries should be re-rolled.

Levels 1-4: 1. Cause Fear, 2. Cure Light Wounds, 3. Doom, 4. Inflict Light Wounds, 5. Obscuring Mist, 6. Shield, 7. Magic Missile, 8. Mage Armor, 9. Sleep, 10. Reduce Person, 11. Shocking Grasp, 12. True Strike
Levels 5-8: 1. Acid Arrow, 2. Summon Swarm, 3. Web, 4. Hideous Laughter, 5. Darkness, 6. Gust of Wind, 7. Scorching Ray, 8. Blur, 9. Cure Moderate Wounds, 10. Hold Person, 11. Sound Burst, 12. Inflict Moderate Wounds
Levels 9-12: 1. Bestow Curse, 2. Contagion, 3. Cure Serious Wounds, 4. Inflict Serious Wounds, 5. Meld to Stone, 6. Stinking Cloud, 7. Deep Slumber, 8. Fireball, 9. Lightning Bolt, 10. Gaseous Form, 11. Blink, 12. Haste

Jump(Ex): Using its powerful hind legs, the Simonlefera can easily leap as high as 150 feet in the air, and land again safely.

ECOLOGY

Environment Anywhere magic is strong. They often gravitate towards leylines, and such can be found in nearly any environment.
Organization Solitary or cabal (4-8)
Activity Cycle Diurnal
Diet Magical Energies, tiny mammals; Natural Enemies Wizards