GLOGtober Day 4: Swirling Rainbow Vortices

So, honestly this doesn’t make sense even in my absolutely madcap macrosetting, so you won’t be hearing from Kul-Kashan the Relatively Wise this time. No, this will be straight from me. Well, not exactly straight. And so, I present my take on Swirling Rainbow Vortices: queer rainbow surfers in space!

The Spiral

Nestled between the Padrigin Belt and the Black Nebula, is The Spiral, a city that extends its esoteric arms far into the cosmos. It is the birthplace of humanity as we know it, and where we have lived for all of living memory. Each tiny star is a human home, where we live and work from inside our warm suns, connected to the Synaesthesic Network directly through our brains, commanding the automatons that do our work for the betterment of civilisation. Truly a utopia, where all can live without fear of death or harmful contact with others.

The Surfers

There are always, however, those who do not appreciate the safety that the star-cocoons give. They are the few modern humans who decide to leave the Spiral, crafting fragments of long-dead suns into surfboards to ride the waves of the cosmos. Most die in solar storms, or get caught in the wrong asteroid field, but there are a few that, through a mixture of skill and sheer luck, find something out there in space, passing out of the present and into legend as the heroes of humanity that little children are told stories of in hushed tones. They are the Surfers, explorers of space and conquerors of the known universe, and some of the unknown universe too.

The Bifrost

However, the Surfers would be nothing without the Bifrost that allows them access to the universe in its glorious entirety. A phenomenon only recently discovered by humanity, detection of the Bifrost by human perceptions is only possible if the person has been exposed to the Synaethesic Network before the age of 4, leading to most Surfers being under the age of 80, very young indeed. Research has deemed that it has something to do with changing how the Astral Self functions, allowing one to find the Bifrost all around them.

But what exactly is it? From what we have gleaned from interrogations with Surfers, it is a rainbow wave that can be summoned from everywhere, allowing travel by surfing along it with the aforementioned starboards. Using it, anywhere can be reached with relative ease. The people who use it also reportedly have no trouble breathing in the vacuum of space. They use it like a highway to evade authorities and discover the interesting corners of the universe. It has also been stated that when using the Bifrost, all destinations are a maximum of five days’ surfing away, no matter the actual distance.

Some people particularly attuned to the Bifrost are capable of accessing the Rainbow Vortex, a small organ in the ear that is grown after early exposure to the Syaesthesic Network, though most humans cannot use it. Those who can, however, are able to connect to the Network from anywhere in the galaxy and, through strange psionic powers, can alter the very fabric of reality around them. These people, called the Starchildren, are almost inevitably the greatest Surfers of the group they associate themselves with, and have a mastery over the Bifrost most can only dream of. Truly they are forces to be reckoned with.

This Idea In The Future

This is one of my favourite things I’ve done yet here, and I do think at some point I will have to expand it into its own thing. Perhaps a GLOG hack specifically about this idea? Not sure, but until then I hope you can find something good in here!

GLOGtober Day 3: Goblinism, A Study

 Of all the diseases of the infinite multiverse, the most insidious are those that are self-inflicted. And while Narcissus Syndrome and The Mirror Plague are indeed terrifying, we managed to stop those eventually. The same cannot be said for goblinism, the greatest threat we face in this universe, that turns our people into low-power monsters for low-power adventurers to kill. Many have theorised that it is the universe’s way of keeping up supply for the constant demand that the everyday influx of new adventurers inevitably brings. And so, presented here are my rather incomplete notes on the subject.

Goblinism

Contraction: A person contracts goblinism by one of two means: feeling pity for the plight of goblins, or using weak and cowardly tactics to kill people of far less power than you for too long.

Onset: The first symptoms of goblinism appear as an impulse to set up devious traps around your house. You do not consider this strange, but if it is pointed out by someone else you may be able to stop the disease early by killing a goblin in an honourable duel. You progress to the first stage after someone gets caught in one of your traps.

Stage 1: Your skin becomes a pallid green colour as you begin to hunch over constantly, as if a massive weight was upon your back. During otherwise serious social situations, you must save vs. instinct or play a prank on the person who would have the worst reaction to it. You progress to stage two after getting caught from a prank. You may still reverse your transformation if you find and appeal to the current goblin king to release you from your duty.

Stage 2: Your height is halved, and your skin turns into fireproof scales. All of your stats except Dexterity are reduced by 2, and your Intelligence is reduced by a further 4. Your dexterity increases by 4. You have an overwhelming urge to go out into the world, find an area that new adventurers are likely to go to, and attempt to kill them. Your movement speed and stealth are increased by 50%. You may still reverse your transformation if you find and appeal to the current goblin king to release you from your duty. You progress to stage three after killing or dying to your first adventurer.

Stage 3: Your transformation becomes irreversible, and you become a true goblin. Your ears are now pointy, and your teeth become shark-like. You gain the ability to throw a small fireball that deals 1d6 fire damage on a hit. You lose the ability to communicate in anything except goblin.

GLOGtober Day 2: Blood and Its Many Uses

 Alright, another shorter post, this time on Blood. While I may be incredibly squeamish when it comes to these things, I do indeed see its uses, chiefly keeping me alive. Maybe that’s why I hate seeing it, because it should be inside me? All discussion about the meatbag I’m piloting aside, let’s get into the tender core of this: blood rituals. These are very powerful magic powers that are unknown to most people: discovering how to perform them is a task unto itself, let alone actually doing them. Each one comes with a Bane and a Boon, a perk and drawback, a price to pay for the power you gain. Steal liberally and unapologetically, my friends!

The Rite of Guuljis

The Black King of the Gulch, Great Guuljis himself, has many flesh puppets at the ready, waiting for the right person to bring them forth.

Components: Your blood, the blood of your most hated enemy, a vial of hag-infested swamp water and the horn of a demon who once loved you.

Ritual Casting Time: 1 day

Boon: You entreat Guuljis to bestow upon you a perfect copy of yourself, entirely under your command. It has all the same abilities, appearance and items as you. You may control your copy in combat, and though it acts on its own otherwise, it is inclined to follow your commands. Any person who may see into the Astral Realms may see that you are both linked by an umbilical cord, no matter the distance between you. It levels up when you do, and may take different options to you. If you ever die, you may cheat death by offering up your copy to the afterlife in your stead. By doing this, you become effectively immortal, as the afterlife will not seek your soul when it is your time to die of old age. However, if you die from any other means, the retribution of the afterlife will be swift and torturous.

Bane: You are forever unable to bear children, and any baby you touch with your bare skin is destined to die a horrible and gruesome death. When you cry, you will cry tears of blood. While in a swamp of any kind, you are subject to horrid nightmares, and are cut off from any divine magic you may have, unless it comes from Guuljis. At any point, if an ally of yours dies, your copy will go out and consume them, preventing them from being resurrected.

The Rite of the Demon King Kil’gattan

Take unto yourself the Stygian Blade and the Tenebrous Armour, and become the Hellknight to strike down your enemies.

Components: Three quarters of your blood forged into a blade by a demon, the bodies of your best friend or a city worth of creatures

Ritual Casting Time: 1 week

Boon: You become the Hellknight, the ultimate warrior of the multiverse. There can only be one Hellknight in each world at a time, and you must succeed in killing previous Hellknight to take their place. Once you gain the title, you become completely immune to all magic and physical damage. All attacks you make automatically hit, and deal the maximum amount of damage possible. You cannot die of old age.

Bane: You must kill everyone who even remotely opposes you, be it ideologically, physically or simply on what to have for breakfast. If you do not kill at least 5 people per day, you lose your power until you make up the difference. In addition, choose one thing, either mental or physical, that could be reasonably attacked (though you may make it as challenging as possible). That is your mortal weakness, and is the only way to kill you while being the Hellknight.

The Rite That Is Forgotten

Drain yourself, and fade away from memory.

Components: All of your blood funneled into a locket that you must wear around your neck, mixed in with all the blood of the person who knew you best in the world.

Ritual Casting Time: Instantaneously once your blood is funneled successfully into the locket.

Boon: You are forgotten by everyone and everything. All mentions of you are purged from every written document, and anyone who writes about you has their writings destroyed within 1 hour of it being written by shadowy creatures from beyond. No scrying magic can detect you, and anyone who meets you forgets your existence after they look away from you. You may drink the blood of another person to assume their identity for one day per litre of blood your drink. You perfectly replicate them in voice, appearance and mannerisms, though you do not gain their memories. The memory-suppressing abilities only function when your real identity is in question.

Bane: Your identity is stored in your locket. If it is ever destroyed, all memories of you return to those who forgot you. If you are ever without your locket, you too begin to forget yourself over a period of a week. By the second day, you forget your name and all but your closest friends and family. By the fourth day and every day after, you forget one class level. By the sixth day, all you know is that you must find the locket. On the seventh day, you forget about the locket entirely, and you start anew as an entirely new person, effectively making you an NPC under the GM’s control.

GLOGtober Day 1: The Many Guns of the Endless Multiverse

So yes, I am participating in GLOGtober! I’ll be releasing a short article every day, less dense than my usual fare. Day 1’s theme is Guns, so here’s three powerful artifacts for your villains or perhaps even your players. Now, take it away Archmage Kul-Kashan, and steal liberally and unapologetically as always, my friends!

Across the universes of the Author, there is but one constant: lead, be it in writing implements, baked into brownies or lodged in your skull. Thus, here I will mark my findings on some of those most powerful of lead-launching instruments, for your perusement.

The Chronorevolver

At the very centre of the Time Vortex, lodged in the minute hand of the Clock of the Exarch, lies the Chronorevolver, the gun that shot time forward. In the beginning, it is said, the Gunslinger fired one shot from its six chambers, creating the first timeline as the bullet continued forward to this very day, leaving time itself in its wake. However, so great was the recoil that the Chronorevolver was ripped from the Gunslinger’s hand, drifting through the cosmos, never to be found again.

There are five bullets left in the gun, and the many Academies of Bullet Magic have been debating for thousands of years as to what their purpose is. Do they simply create another timeline? Do they do something else, far beyond our comprehension? And most of all, what would happen if someone found it before the Gunslinger did? All terrifying questions, and I, for one, hope we never find out the answer.

One rumour reigns supreme, however. It is said that the Chronorevolver’s next bullet has the power to erase time, to edit it to your whim. To create your perfect timeline. To kill the past. There are many people indeed who would give anything for such an opportunity, even myself if I am to be honest. But it is not our place to meddle with the weapons of the gods, though we spend our lives trying. Who knows what you could mess up if your aim was off?

The Holy AR-15 of Saint Pulsarim

Many years ago, in the town of Grishom, there was a cowardly priest named Horace Pulsarim. He worshipped the gods diligently, and did all the good he could for his townspeople. But his fearful nature hindered him constantly, and it was to be his downfall, for when the Vampire Hordes of Count Vikhasha came from the mountains to the north, he hid away, doing nothing as his people were assimilated, becoming unfeeling, ravenous undead thralls under the Count’s control.

As he lay in the basement of his church, curled up and sobbing to himself, he realised what he had done. He should have helped stop them, to destroy the Count. He had the protection of God, didn’t he? But he had hesitated. He had condemned those people to death just as much as the Count had, and that was unforgivable.

But it was in that moment that God herself appeared in front of him. “You have a chance yet to redeem yourself.” She said to him. “Take up arms, Horace, and fight back the hordes, knowing that I will watch and protect you.” He stood up, wiped the tears from his eyes, and took an AR-15 from the local lord’s castle. The lord was a vampire now, anyway, so he wouldn’t mind.

With nothing but absolute faith, he caught up to the vampire horde and waged a guerilla war with them, entirely alone. God blessed his rifle, and it was given healing properties, turning any vampire it hit back into a human. The people he freed joined him in battle, every vampire killed becoming a soldier for Pulsarim’s army, until all that was left was the Count Vikshasa. Pulsarim shot him, turning him back into the kindly man he had once been, and was pronounced a Saint.

A nice story indeed, but with a few inconsistencies. Chief of these strange things is that the world Pulsarim inhabited had no gods, nor any contact with the Author. Thus, Pulsarim must have hallucinated his meeting with God. What that does not explain, however, is that the part about the rifle becoming magical is entirely true. My theory, while admittedly unlikely, is that his sheer faith and unquestioning belief in his non-existent God managed to imbue the AR-15 with power by force of will alone, an absolutely astronomical feat.

These days, the rifle turns up every once in a while still, whenever an undead threat of large proportions threatens a world. The rifle chooses a wielder, and they become a Pulsar, a powerful vampire-killing gunman with an unquestioning belief in ‘God’, a non-existent being that apparently talks to them in their head.

The Hungering Gaze of Kil’gattan

Kil’gattan, the City of Demons that exists in nearly every universe, a hive of such evil that even the demons who live there fear what lies in its deepest depths. The Pit Lord Kharkik, a demon warlord feared throughout the universes, travelled there in search of the Stygian Forge, trekking through the forgotten places of the City until he eventually found it. There, he spent many years working on one thing: the shotgun known as the Hungering Gaze of Kil’gattan, crafted from the eyes of the City itself. Kharkik took this weapon and used it to kill the Nameless Fear, taking its title and place among the Black Lords of the Chaos Emperor.

The Hungering Gaze is one of the few weapons in existence capable of killing a Greater God permanently, and seeks to do so constantly. It has a portion of the will of Kil’gattan, the progenitor demon killed by the Author at the end of the Great War between Law and Chaos, and so wishes nothing more than to kill her in revenge. Merely holding the gun will turn you into a Lesser Deity of the Godkilling Domain, with all the power that entails. Let us hope then, that no one ever finds it.

That Which Is Lonely: Lore and The Lonely One GLOG Class

 

Blindfolded by Saehral

That Which Is Lonely

‘From afar, it leers,

Entirely alone in its togetherness.

For years upon years upon years,

It has grinned in its timelessness.

It has no one, yet needs none,

It’s mother dead by no hand known,

It looks to its father,

And sees naught but a withered crown.

Nothing.

Lonely.

Alone.

Solitary.

But it is still here, after all this time. 

Just as you remember it.’

-A Prayer Spoken by a Friend, right before their inevitable demise in the forest. You do remember, don’t you?

There is spoken of, amongst the myriad magical colleges of Loa-Imidan, a path to true immortality. Lichdom, while appealing, condemns one to a lifetime of collecting fuel for your phylactery, and should you ever fall off doing so, you will not be given favourable treatment by the Kings of the Afterlife. And thus, we have ever searched for an alternative, not a half-measure that creates dread unlife, but true prolonging of life.

Curious. Very curious. A pity that my time should be now.

This text tells of a man named Telvaran U’Lorsix. He, like so many of us, sought the secret to unending existence, never to age or experience the cold embrace of the Sky Above. I have often wondered what comes afterwards, myself. Some speak of the Great Wheels, where we walk endless, powering the machines of the Kings as they float slowly towards their home far away in the Beyond, where green shores and purple trees kill each other at dawn. I went there once, long ago. Maybe.

Telvaran was one of the Good Lords of the Once-Free Kingdoms, kind in demeanour and terrible in anger, he slew 13 of the Drarik-Gon before taking the throne in Kil’gattan, the Ancient City of Demons. He wrested control from the previous owner, a Pit Lord named 

It was a nice walk, as far as I remember. We were many that day, though we were oh so lonely. The trees stretched high above our heads, black and imposing, until we saw him. Or maybe we didn’t. But whether he was there or not is not important, for we felt him. I still feel him, right beside me, and it makes me feel so alone.

as he took the Black Sword Ulrathi, screaming as it sliced through his enemies with abandon. Yet even that could not stymie the ever-marching progress of time. And so one day, he left his last message, saying only one thing. ‘Goodbye’. And then he left, marking the first of the Good Lords to disappear from Fallen Earth. But as has surfaced since, it was not the end of his story.

I went slowly towards him, him with blue eyes and thousand miles in his hair. The others gasped in false horror. False, for I knew he was beautiful beyond anything else upon this earth. He offered solitude from my nightmares, and I gladly accepted. I have seen so much, friend. I am so tired. So very tired. I left it behind, all of it, and I became something more. Something far better than before. And I smiled, for I am so happy.

We will never truly know whether he achieved immortality through its help, for to see him is to break the spell. He is lonely, and he survives through the mystery. By giving up everything, he had everything to gain. But we must ask this question. Is an eternity alone worth it?

Hold now. Who wrote all that? I am sure no one else was in here to mess with my work. I will have to check. Probably some mischievous student. I will teach this fledgling wizard not to mess with Archmage Kul-Kashan!

Who was I before? I do not know. I am locked in my head, writing this small little addendum to his work. He was created so that I may be lonely. A quaint man, I have become since I left on that walk. But of course, he does not remember me, nor himself. A pity, indeed, but at least I have found something new for myself. Goodbye, Kul-Kashan. May our life be happy. 

Lonely One

You have given yourself to That Which Is Lonely. Whatever you were before is of no consequence. Lock yourself away in your head, and let instinct take over.

Starting Equipment: A blindfold, a memento of an event you are no longer allowed to remember, a locked diary.

A: Locked Away, Ever Lonelier

B: Lonely Ritual
C: Fortress of Solitude
D: Total Isolation

At any point, a Lonely One may take a template in another class and have it count as the next Lonely One template for the purposes of ability uses.

A: Locked Away

You have gone through the Severance, a ritual which entirely cuts your consciousness off from reality and replacing it with a fabricated person, complete with their own fake memories and everything, all so that you can be entirely alone, and thus closer to That Which Is Lonely. You play as that fabricated person, who has no idea of the circumstances of their creation. The Referee determines who you were originally, keeping this information away. If you ever learn your old name again, you automatically lose all Lonely One Templates, since you are no longer alone. Once every year, your original self is permitted to take control of the body for no more than {Lonely One Templates} minutes.

A: Ever Lonelier

You may cut off your senses to gain extra abilities, however each one you cut off also gives you a drawback. The more alone you are, the more powerful you become. After cutting off a sense, you must wait 1d4 weeks before allowing yourself to bring them back.

Sense	Perk	Drawback
Sight	Able to sense invisible creatures and magical signals. Immune to all gaze attacks and being frightened.	Cannot see normally. Penalty of 2 on all attack rolls and -2 AC.
Hearing	Immune to all sound-based attacks and spells with verbal components. Cannot be stunned.	Cannot hear. Must roll twice to determine surprise against you and take whichever number would be worse. You cannot benefit from any sound-based abilities (bard songs and the like).
Smell	Immune to gas attacks and any other smell-based attacks. Can breathe in airless environments, and can roll twice and take the higher number to avoid being choked.	Cannot smell. You have a penalty of 2 on all rolls to notice things around you, and must always roll to find or discover things.
Touch	All damage taken is reduced by 2, and you do not fall unconscious after reaching 0 hit points. You deal +4 damage on a hit.	Cannot feel. You no longer keep track of your HP, instead the Referee does it for you, keeping the number a secret from you. Your allies must tell you if you seem very hurt, for you cannot feel it. All damage taken below 0HP counts as double for the purposes of all mechanics that track it.
Taste	Without opening your mouth, you may mimic any voice you’ve heard and make it sound as if it is coming from somewhere within 200ft. Can communicate telepathically with entities within 100ft, not requiring a common language to understand and be understood. Once a connection is established, the creature may reply.	Cannot taste or speak. You cannot tell when you have been poisoned, and the Referee makes any poison saves for you in secret. Your dice to roll when you rest to regain hit points goes down by one step on this chain: 1d12, 1d10, 1d8, 1d6, 1d4.

B: Lonely Ritual

You must spend at least 4 hours alone each day, or lose the perks from Ever Lonelier while keeping the drawbacks until you make up the lost time. If you sleep alone, you gain +2 health from the rest. You may perform a ritual to That Which Is Lonely during a rest, seeking guidance. You may ask {Lonely One templates} ‘yes or no’ questions to the emptiness. It will give an answer as honestly as it can, answer either ‘Yes’, ‘No’ or ‘Unclear’. If any of those would be misleading, they may give an answer of up to {Lonely One templates x 2} words in length. 

You may replace one of these questions with a cry for help, asking for That Which Is Lonely’s help on one action that you specify. If that action occurs before the next time you perform the ritual, you may roll twice and take the better option.

C: Fortress of Solitude

You have a demiplane inside your head, with a radius of {Lonely One templates} miles from the centre, in a rough sphere. This may appear as you wish, with very few restrictions. At any point, you may start a 30 minute long ritual to enter inside along with up to {Lonely One templates} x 2 other creatures. You may place up to {carryweight x 2} of items inside this demiplane. Any items created inside the demiplane cannot be brought into the real world. 

As an action once per day, you may make an attack roll against an enemy. On a hit, the enemy must succeed a save vs. teleportation or be forced into the demiplane for 1d6 hours. During this period, you can hear everything they say, and can talk to them.

Anyone killed inside the demiplane is instantly ejected and takes 1d6 psychic damage.

A nameless figure stalks the demiplane, constantly alone, trying to speak its name to anyone who listens, but can never manage to say it. If someone enters the demiplane who is actively antagonistic to you, there is a 10% chance that it will hunt them down and attack them.

D: Total Isolation

Once per day, if you have cut off all 5 senses, you may temporarily reach Apotheosis for {Lonely One Templates} rounds. For the duration, you lose all drawbacks and all numerical values in the perks are doubled. In addition, all hits are critical hits for the duration. However, when Apotheosis ends, you lose all the perks but regain the drawbacks for {Lonely One Templates} rounds. After that time period has ended, you go back to normal.

Who Were You Before?

1d20	Identity
1	A scholar, scared of losing their knowledge forever.
2	A traveller from a faraway land, unable to return home.
3	A convict, atoning for heinous crimes they wished to forget.
4	A ruler deposed, escaping responsibilities.
5	A soldier in a bloody war, trying to forget the atrocities they witnessed.
6	A wizard, chased out of their village for consorting with demons.
7	A gang member, running from the wrath of their former allies.
8	A peasant farmer, drowning in the grief of their family’s death.
9	A ship’s captain, marooned on an island after a bloody mutiny.
10	An ex-cultist, attempting to forget the things they did in the name of their god.
11	A warrior, trying to forget the lives they’ve taken.
12	A scholar who learned far too much.
13	A hermit who wished to achieve ultimate enlightenment through solitude.
14	Someone who lost their one true love.
15	A cleric who failed in their god’s mission.
16	A hero who failed to fulfill the prophecy they were ordained to succeed in.
17	A street urchin, born into squalor, who never managed to wrest themselves from poverty’s iron grasp.
18	The bastard child of a ruler, scorned and forgotten.
19	A child born to a prostitute, thrown to the streets, never to know their parents.
20	They too had forgotten, long ago.

Conclusion

We have all, at some point, wished to get away from everything, to be entirely alone. That is the paradise that That Which Is Lonely offers to its acolytes, to be locked away in your mind and replaced, so that you may wander the halls of your mind-fortress forever. What exactly that does to someone, none yet know, though it cannot be good.

Once again, I must say that this has been by no means playtested, so make adjustments as you must. Steal liberally and unapologetically, my friends, and godspeed to you all. And maybe don’t cut yourself off from everything, at least not in real life. Maybe do play this class.