Dangerous Encounter: The Stalking Terror

This encounter will prove to the PCs that not everything is as it initially appears in the Mutant Future. Most of what happens here is smoke and mirrors, but a clever Mutant Lord could run this encounter over many sessions until the PCs become wise to what's really going on.

The disturbance should begin one night while the PCs are enjoying some down time -- preferably making camp or otherwise on the trail or in the wilderness. It should be relatively quiet and uneventful. The Mutant Lord should "roll" a random encounter behind the screen, then announce that a Giant Tarantula (MF rlebook, page 97) has lumbered out of the darkness. The hairy monstrosity is easily 9 feet across; its eyes glittering and fangs dripping with venom. It hisses angrily, staying just at the edge of where the campfire's light falls. If the PCs attack, the Giant Spider will rear up to defend itself. Whenever the Giant Tarantula attacks, the ML should roll behind the screen and announce that it misses. The moment a PC makes contact or lands a blow, the Giant Tarantula will suddenly "blink" away, suddenly appearing on the other side of the campsite as if it had teleported. The PCs will probably race to the other side to engage the creature, which will seem to think better of the encounter, turning to flee into the darkness. If the players chase it, they are unable to catch up to it. The Giant Tarantula doesn't return that evening.

Unknown to the PCs, the Giant Tarantula isn't real. The entire encounter was orchestrated by a trio of Stalker Plants (MF rulebook, page 99) who have taken an interest in the players.

Stalker Plants (3) (AL N, MV 60' (20'), AC 8, HD 4, #AT 1, DM Special, SV L3, ML 5, mutations: mental phantasm)

The Stalker Plants have been following the players for the better part of the day, looking for an opportunity to pick through their belongings to make off with some shiny trinkets or coins. While the PCs are occupied by the mental phantasm of the Giant Tarantula, the Stalker Plants have each taken one small insignificant item from the player's belongings. (The Mutant Lord can roll randomly or just pick three minor items.) The Stalker Plants will then scurry into the darkness and bury these purloined items. The items will probably be valueless, although a careless player may find his coin purse slightly lighter or his favorite dagger missing.

If the Stalker Plants are undetected, they will continue to follow the PCs for as long as they can. They will keep their true nature hidden by "hiding in plain sight," as they just need to close their many eyes and they'll just appear to be scrub brush. When a few days have passed and another opportunity presents itself, the Stalker Plants will bring the imagery of the Giant Tarantula back to threaten the PCs and lead them away from their valuables. Since the Giant Tarantula is only a mental phantasm, it "blinks" out whenever someone makes contact with it. (The illusion can be seen, heard, and even smelled, but not touched.) The Stalker Plants will try to avoid this, as the PCs will eventually become suspicious as to the nature of the Tarantula.  If the PCs leave their items unattended again, the Stalker Plants move in and make off with some more trinkets.

The Stalker Plants will keep up the charade as long as they can. However, by the third encounter with the Giant Tarantula (it's the only mental phantasm the Stalker Plants have), the PCs will probably figure out that something is manipulating them. But until the Stalker Plants are either caught in the act or otherwise discovered, the Giant Tarantula will "attack" the PCs every few days.

If the Stalker Plants are discovered, they will send out a blinding mental "flash" to everyone within 50'. Anyone who fails a save vs. stun attacks will be struck blind and deaf by the mental overload for 2d6 rounds. During this time, the Stalker Plants will scamper off and escape, looking for a new traveling group to stalk and torment.

The Savage AfterWorld Turns Four...So How About Some Apocalypse Cakes?

Howdy folks. Today, this lil' corner of Mutant Future meanderings turns four years old. Hope you've enjoyed the trip thus far.

While looking for some online art to illustrate the blog's big b-day, I innocently typed in "apocalypse cakes" in hopes of finding something delightfully macabre. Instead, I discovered a cookbook with that same title! "Apocalypse Cakes: Recipes For The End" is described as:

We are besieged with talks of crisis, meltdown, earthquakes, sink holes, global warming, bailouts, and more. Once you realize there's not a whole lot of time left, grab a Bundt pan and whip up your own scrumptious Fallen Angel Food Cake--or one of the other 29 apocalyptic cakes in this irreverent cookbook--and indulge in your final days.

Not exactly gaming or RPG or Mutant Future in nature, but it's about apocalyptic stuff, and it's about cakes, so I'll consider it appropriate fodder for today's birthday blog post. (And I'll pay my Joesky Tax with my next post.)

Check Your Backyard -- There May Be A Long-Forgotten, Fully-Stocked Fallout Shelter Out There

Twice in the last 45 days, two separate families in two separate states have each unearthed a fairly well-preserved and long-forgotten fallout shelter from the 1950s-60s.

In May this year, a family in Wisconsin decided to check out the shelter they knew existed on their property. Although they had lived there for 10 years, they just assumed the shelter was an empty moldering hole. When they finally did unlock the steel doors and descended the ladder, they instead found food, toiletries, clothing, and medical supplies all preserved and ready for the apocalypse.

Looks inviting, eh?

And last week, ANOTHER family -- this time in California -- decided to take an investigative trip into their own "suspected it was there but we never really thought much about it" fallout shelter. This shelter though was magnificently preserved and filled with cold war survival rations, gear, clothing, and other essentials.

Just look at what the shelter's interior looked like when they cracked it open.

I'm particularly impressed by the shelter-builder's choice of world-end reading material.

I'm beginning to think that our post-apocalyptic fantasies of long-forgotten vaults filled with pristine artifacts, tools, and foodstuff of the Bygone days isn't so far-fetched after all.

Savage Menagerie: Pyronoceros

No. Enc.: 0 (1d4)
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 120' (40')
Armor Class: 3
Hit Dice: 6
Attacks: 1 (butt or trample)
Damage: 2d4 or 2d8, plus an additional 4d6 (phosphorous hide)
Save: L3
Morale: 5
Hoard Class: None

The Pyronoceros (pie-roh-NAH-sir-us) is a flaming mutated version of the common rhinoceros (MF rulebook, page 92). A Pyronoceros is a large horned creature covered with a thick leathery hide. Through mutational evolution, its physiology is based on phosphorous rather than carbon and iron. This phosphorus permeation is evident in its hide, which is always burning with a hellish glow, giving the animal the appearance of being engulfed in yellow-orange flames. (It's easy to tell if you've stumbled into a Pyronoceros' homegrounds as the fields, grass, and trees will be scorched and charred.) The flaming hide does not harm the creature in the least, but are quite dangerous to any who come into contact with the creature. Any contact with these phosphorous fires will do 4d6 points of searing burn damage. It stands to reason that the Pyronoceros is immune to all heat and fire-based attacks.

Unlike the traditional rhinoceros, the Pyronoceros is actually a shy, timid creature that avoids contact with intruders. However, it is easily spooked and, if frightened, it will attack violently. A Pyronoceros attacks by charging the victim, then butting them with its horn for 2d4 points of damage, or trampling for 2d8 points of damage. The victim will then take an additional 4d6 points of burn damage unless they are somehow immune or protected from heat damage.

It's theorized that if the blood of a Pyronoceros is bottled and thrown, it will explode like a grenade upon impact, burning all who are coated with a napalm-like fire. However, since the creature's blood burns upon contact with air, it is unknown how anyone has managed to bottle it to test this theory.

Mutations: phosphorous hide

Demon Dogs, Look Who's On Etsy

While poking around on Etsy, an online marketplace specializing in homemade and handmade items from various artisans, I thought I'd punch in "Thundarr" just to see if anyone was selling anything featuring our favorite post-apocalyptic barbarian. I was a bit surprised to stumble across a store featuring original art by artist Dennis Budd. Lords of Light, just take a gander at this print he created and has for sale!

Size is 11 x 17, and price is $15.00 shipped in the U.S. ($25.00 shipped worldwide.) Looks like my game room wall is about to expand by one more piece of art!