Blackwater Catfish

Huge Animal (Aquatic)
Hit Dice: 8d8+32 (68 hp)
Initiative: +1
Speed: 10 ft. (2 squares), swim 40 ft.
Armor Class: 16 (–2 size, +1 Dex, +7 natural), touch 9, flat-footed 15
Base Attack/Grapple: +6/+18
Attack: Bite +8 melee (2d6+6)
Full Attack: Bite +8 melee (2d6+6) and tail slap +3 melee (1d8+3)
Space/Reach: 15 ft./10 ft.
Special Attacks: Improved grab, swallow whole, thrash
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent, murky water adaptation
Saves: Fort +10, Ref +7, Will +3
Abilities: Str 22, Dex 13, Con 18, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Listen +8, Spot +7, Swim +14
Feats: Alertness, Toughness, Weapon Focus (bite)
Environment: Warm rivers, swamps, and bayous
Organization: Solitary or pair
Challenge Rating: 5
Treasure: None
Alignment: Always neutral
Advancement: 9–12 HD (Huge); 13–18 HD (Gargantuan)
Level Adjustment: —

DESCRIPTION

The Blackwater Catfish is a hulking predator of slow, tannin-dark waters where visibility is measured in inches and sound travels farther than sight. Its long, whiskered face drifts just above the riverbed, barbels tasting the currents for movement, blood, and the subtle tremors of living flesh. Its hide is thick, slick, and dark as drowned wood, often scarred from territorial battles or failed attempts by desperate prey.

Measuring between eight and twelve feet in length, these creatures are deceptively still hunters. They settle into silt or beneath submerged roots, becoming indistinguishable from the environment until the moment they strike. What follows is not a chase, but a violent, sudden absence - a splash, a churn of mud, and then silence.

COMBAT

A Blackwater Catfish attacks from concealment, preferring targets at the water’s edge or wading in shallow depths. It attempts to grapple immediately, dragging prey into deeper water where resistance quickly turns to panic and drowning.

Improved Grab (Ex): If the catfish hits with its bite, it may attempt to start a grapple as a free action without provoking attacks of opportunity.

Swallow Whole (Ex): A Blackwater Catfish can swallow a grabbed opponent of Large size or smaller. A swallowed creature takes 2d6+6 bludgeoning damage plus 1d6 acid damage per round. The gizzard (AC 13) requires 15 damage to cut free. Capacity: 2 Large, 4 Medium, or 8 Small or smaller creatures.

Thrash (Ex): While grappling, the catfish violently twists, dealing an additional 1d8+6 damage each round it maintains the grapple.

Murky Water Adaptation (Ex): The catfish ignores concealment penalties from silt or dark water and gains a +4 racial bonus on Listen and Spot checks in aquatic environments.

Skills: A Blackwater Catfish has a +8 racial bonus on Swim checks and can always choose to take 10 on Swim checks, even if distracted or endangered. It can use the run action while swimming in a straight line.

LORE

Locals rarely agree on much, but on this they are unified - if the water is black enough to hide your hands, it is deep enough to hide a catfish. Livestock vanish. Dogs refuse to drink. Boats drift back empty. And always, the water returns to stillness too quickly, as though nothing at all had happened.

These creatures are not merely opportunistic feeders - they learn. Those that survive long enough begin to recognize patterns: the hour fishermen arrive, the places children play, the habitual crossings of livestock. In time, a Blackwater Catfish does not simply hunt - it waits for you specifically.

Some riverfolk leave offerings of meat or blood at certain bends, believing it will keep the larger specimens satisfied. Others say this only teaches the creature that humans are a reliable source of food. Neither group has proven the other wrong.

Blackwater Catfish, Striped Venomtail

Huge Animal (Aquatic)
Hit Dice: 9d8+36 (76 hp)
Initiative: +2
Speed: 10 ft. (2 squares), swim 40 ft.
Armor Class: 17 (–2 size, +2 Dex, +7 natural), touch 10, flat-footed 15
Base Attack/Grapple: +6/+19
Attack: Bite +9 melee (2d6+7 plus venom)
Full Attack: Bite +9 melee (2d6+7 plus venom) and tail slap +4 melee (1d8+3)
Space/Reach: 15 ft./10 ft.
Special Attacks: Improved grab, swallow whole, thrash, venom
Special Qualities: Low-light vision, scent, murky water adaptation
Saves: Fort +10, Ref +8, Will +3
Abilities: Str 24, Dex 15, Con 18, Int 2, Wis 12, Cha 6
Skills: Listen +9, Spot +8, Swim +15
Feats: Alertness, Toughness, Weapon Focus (bite), Improved Initiative
Environment: Warm swamps, bayous, and blackwater rivers
Organization: Solitary
Challenge Rating: 6
Treasure: None
Alignment: Always neutral
Advancement: 10–14 HD (Huge)
Level Adjustment: —

DESCRIPTION

This variant of the Blackwater Catfish is immediately recognizable to those unfortunate enough to have seen it and lived. Its body bears a muted olive-green coloration that blends seamlessly with algae-choked waters, broken only by a faint, shadowy black stripe running along its underside. This marking is rarely visible from above, rendering the creature nearly invisible until it turns - often at the exact moment it strikes.

Its barbels are longer and more sensitive than those of its kin, constantly tasting the water for signs of movement. Up close, subtle ridges can be seen along the jawline and near the base of the tail - the source of its venom. Wounds inflicted by this creature are often deceptively small, yet far more dangerous than they appear.

COMBAT

The striped venomtail relies on the same ambush tactics as other Blackwater Catfish, but it is notably more aggressive once it has made contact. It often bites and releases smaller prey, allowing the venom to weaken the target before returning to feed at its leisure. Against larger prey, it grapples as normal, letting the toxin hasten exhaustion and drowning.

Improved Grab (Ex): As Blackwater Catfish.

Swallow Whole (Ex): As Blackwater Catfish.

Thrash (Ex): Deals an additional 1d8+7 damage each round it maintains a grapple.

Venom (Ex): Injury, Fortitude DC 18, initial damage 1d4 Strength and 1d4 Dexterity, secondary damage 1d6 Strength. The save DC is Constitution-based. A creature reduced to 0 Strength by this poison is unable to swim and immediately begins to drown if in water.

Murky Water Adaptation (Ex): As Blackwater Catfish.

Skills: A Blackwater Catfish, Striped Venomtail has a +8 racial bonus on Swim checks and can always choose to take 10 on Swim checks, even if distracted or endangered. It can use the run action while swimming in a straight line.

LORE

Among those who live along blackwater shores, this creature is often treated with greater fear than its larger cousins. Not because it is bigger - but because it is cruelly efficient. Victims are not always taken immediately. Some are found hours later, half-submerged, unable to move, their bodies failing them while the water quietly claims what remains.

Fishermen tell of lines going slack without struggle, only to find the catch gone and the hook bent or broken. Others speak of a sudden numbness in their limbs after brushing against something unseen, followed by a creeping weakness that leaves them unable to stand, let alone flee.

There is a saying in the bayou: “If the water takes you fast, be grateful. If it lets you linger, it’s the striped one.”

More troubling still is the relationship between these creatures and the Mireborn. At a distance, they resemble people - thin, stooped, and watchful. Up close, that illusion rots away. Their skin bears a sickly olive cast, stretched too tight in some places and sagging in others, as though the body beneath has forgotten its proper shape. Their hair hangs in long, damp strands resembling Spanish moss, often clotted together with filth and stagnant water. Their eyes are wrong - not in movement, but in stillness, as though they receive the world rather than look at it. Boils, lesions, and slow-weeping sores mark nearly every inch of exposed flesh. The smell that follows them is brackish and faintly sweet, like something long steeped in still water. They rarely speak as individuals. Instead, they murmur - overlapping whispers that only form meaning when heard together.

It is said the Mireborn seek out the striped venomtails with patient, deliberate intent, luring them into shallow, choking waters where nets of woven reed and bone await. They do not kill the creature quickly. They wound it. They bleed it. They take from it what they need.

The venom is collected in crude vessels - hollowed gourds, skulls, or thick glass when such things can be stolen - and worked into their weapons with unsettling care. Spears, hooks, and jagged blades are coated in the toxin, not for swift death, but for the slow undoing of those struck.

Those who have survived such wounds speak of a familiar sensation - not pain, but surrender. Muscles loosening. Strength fading. The body forgetting how to resist.

And in the distance, through the reeds and still water, the Mireborn murmur together - not in triumph, but in something closer to recognition.

Elarithra - Ember of Gentle Skies

Elarithra, the Ember of Gentle Skies
Female Adult Red Dragon (Chaotic Good)

Size/Type: Huge Dragon (Fire)
Hit Dice: 19d12+95 (218 hp)
Initiative: +4
Speed: 40 ft. (8 squares), fly 150 ft. (poor), climb 20 ft.
Armor Class: 33 (-2 size, +25 natural), touch 8, flat-footed 33
Base Attack/Grapple: +19/+33
Attack: Bite +25 melee (2d8+10 plus 1d6 fire)
Full Attack: Bite +25 melee (2d8+10 plus 1d6 fire), 2 claws +23 melee (2d6+5), 2 wings +23 melee (1d8+5), tail slap +23 melee (2d6+15)
Space/Reach: 15 ft./10 ft. (15 ft. with bite)
Special Attacks: Breath weapon, frightful presence, spell-like abilities, spells
Special Qualities: Blindsense 60 ft., darkvision 120 ft., immunity to fire, vulnerability to cold, keen senses, damage reduction 5/magic, spell resistance 21
Saves: Fort +16, Ref +11, Will +15
Abilities: Str 31, Dex 10, Con 21, Int 18, Wis 19, Cha 18
Skills: Appraise +26, Bluff +26, Concentration +26, Diplomacy +8, Intimidate +26, Knowledge (arcana) +26, Listen +26, Search +26, Sense Motive +26, Spot +26, Use Magic Device +26
Feats: Alertness, Cleave, Flyby Attack, Improved Initiative, Multiattack, Power Attack, Snatch
Environment: Warm mountains, volcanic highlands, or lush temperate valleys
Organization: Solitary or with companions (unusual)
Challenge Rating: 13
Treasure: Triple standard (with unusual artistic and sentimental items)
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Advancement: 20–21 HD (Huge); 22–24 HD (Gargantuan)
Level Adjustment: —

DESCRIPTION

Elarithra is a striking anomaly among her kind - a red dragon whose scales gleam like burnished copper kissed by sunrise rather than the harsh, domineering crimson of her kin. Her presence is no less awe-inspiring, yet where others radiate tyranny, she emanates a fierce, protective warmth. Her eyes burn with intelligence, but not cruelty - rather, a constant searching, as though the world itself were a gallery she refuses to tire of.

Her voice, when she chooses to speak, carries the crackle of embers and the softness of distant hearthfire. Mortals often find themselves disarmed not by her power, but by her curiosity. She lingers over small details others would overlook - the curve of a carved doorway, the cadence of a folk song, the fragile determination of a struggling village.

Despite her size and strength, Elarithra moves with an almost deliberate restraint. She avoids needless destruction, even in battle, preferring precision over spectacle. When forced into violence, however, she is no less terrifying than any red dragon - a storm of flame guided by intention rather than rage.

COMBAT

Elarithra fights only when she must, but when she does, she is decisive and efficient. She favors aerial mobility, using Flyby Attack to harry enemies while minimizing collateral damage. Unlike typical red dragons, she avoids indiscriminate use of her breath weapon unless facing overwhelming opposition.

Breath Weapon (Su): 40-ft. cone of fire, 12d10 fire damage, Reflex DC 24 half. Usable every 1d4 rounds. The save DC is Constitution-based.

Frightful Presence (Ex): 180-ft. radius, Will DC 23 negates. Creatures with fewer HD than Elarithra become shaken or panicked.

Spell-Like Abilities (Sp): 3/day - suggestion (DC 19), detect thoughts (DC 18); 1/day - commune with nature. Caster level 9th.

Alternate Form (Su): At will, Elarithra may assume the form of a middle-aged human woman with striking fiery red hair and sharp, perceptive eyes. In this form, she retains her mental ability scores and supernatural abilities but loses her natural weapons and breath weapon. This ability functions as alternate form (as per dragons), but is limited specifically to this singular humanoid guise.

Spells: Elarithra casts spells as a 5th-level sorcerer. Typical spells known (6/7/7/5; save DC 14 + spell level):
0 - detect magic, light, mage hand, mending, message, prestidigitation
1st - charm person, mage armor, shield
2nd - mirror image, scorching ray
3rd - fly

SPECIAL QUALITIES

Unlike most of her kind, Elarithra possesses a deeply ingrained compulsion to seek out and preserve beauty - whether in art, nature, or the quiet resilience of mortal lives. This does not weaken her draconic instincts, but rather redirects them. Her hoard is filled not merely with wealth, but with objects of meaning - paintings, instruments, handwritten letters, and relics tied to memory rather than conquest.

LORE

Elarithra’s existence is considered an aberration among dragonkind. Scholars debate whether she was born different, or if some pivotal moment altered the trajectory of her nature. Whatever the truth, her reputation has spread in whispers - a red dragon who protects rather than pillages, who listens rather than commands.

She is known to appear in humanoid form among settlements, particularly those on the brink of hardship. In these guises, she observes, learns, and occasionally intervenes in subtle ways. Rarely does she reveal her true nature, preferring to let her influence ripple quietly through lives rather than dominate them.

Other red dragons view her with a mixture of contempt and suspicion. Some consider her a disgrace, while others see her as a dangerous philosophical threat - proof that their nature is not as immutable as they claim. As such, Elarithra has faced more than one attempt on her life from her own kind.

Despite this, she remains resolute. To Elarithra, the world is not something to conquer - it is something to witness, to understand, and, when necessary, to defend.

KELWYN’S NOTES - ON ELARITHRA, AND THE GRADUAL FAILURE OF EXPECTATION

Ah… Elarithra.

A name one does not so much speak as arrive at, given sufficient quiet.

She was, in all measurable respects, precisely what one would expect of her kind - scale, flame, dominion, and that particular certainty of presence which renders argument… inefficient. And yet, she possessed a disposition that did not align cleanly with those expectations. Not contrary, you understand. Merely… selective.

It is a dangerous thing, when a creature of such capacity begins to choose.

Our first meeting was, I am pleased to report, entirely proper.

I entered her territory with adequate preparation, a sound understanding of draconic temperament, and a quantity of confidence that, in retrospect, exceeded its warrant. She announced herself accordingly. Heat, pressure, the subtle rearrangement of the surrounding world into something more immediately hers.

I replied in the traditional manner.

There was fire.

There was magic.

There was a brief and mutually instructive exchange of intent, during which it became apparent - to both parties, I think - that the matter would not resolve cleanly.

It did not resolve at all.

I remained. She permitted this. At the time, I categorized the decision as curiosity. It was a convenient explanation. It was also incomplete.

We met again.

And again.

It is remarkable how repetition erodes certainty. Each encounter carried less of the expected conclusion and more… consideration. Flame, when employed, became illustrative rather than terminal. Words, when offered, were not immediately dismissed.

One grows accustomed, in such circumstances, to being assessed.

It is… not entirely unpleasant.

Years, I am told, passed.

What began as opposition softened into something less declarative. Not agreement - never that - but a recognition of measure. She did not diminish. I did not retreat. And in that narrow space where neither yielded, something unexpectedly stable took root.

I hesitate to name it.

Not because it is unclear… but because clarity invites simplification, and this was not a simple thing.

And yet - accuracy demands acknowledgment.

There existed, between us, a sustained and mutual romantic affection. Not sudden, not dramatic, and certainly not convenient… but persistent. It did not replace what we were. It existed alongside it, altering nothing of our nature, and yet… changing the manner in which we chose to engage with it.

There was, however, a moment.

There is always a moment, if one is paying sufficient attention.

I had, on that occasion, misplaced my wand. This was not an isolated incident, nor was it handled with any particular distinction. She observed the event with a patience I had, by then, come to recognize as intentional.

No flame.

No threat.

Merely observation.

And then, with the sort of composure one might employ when noting the weather, she said...

“One of these days, you are going to have to tell your friends that we are, in fact, seeing one another.”

It is… a curious experience, to have a truth one has carefully avoided arranging for oneself presented as though it had long since settled into place.

I did not, I believe, respond in a manner that would be considered definitive.

In fairness, the matter resisted definition.

Time, as it does, proceeded.

We did not end. Not abruptly. Not dramatically. Rather, we arrived - together - at a point beyond which continuation would have altered the thing itself. There are connections which persist only so long as they remain… unforced.

We elected not to force it.

I have found, in the years since, that I do not regard this as loss.

Which is, perhaps, the most telling detail of all.

For in knowing Elarithra, I was afforded the rare opportunity to observe a phenomenon insufficiently documented in either scholarly or practical texts - that expectation, when denied long enough, does not collapse.

It evolves.

And, on occasion… it does so into something altogether more difficult to categorize.

Mirewood Warden

Mirewood Warden

Medium Fey (Augmented Plant)
Hit Dice: 8d6+24 (52 hp)
Initiative: +5
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares), swim 20 ft.
Armor Class: 18 (+5 Dex, +3 natural), touch 15, flat-footed 13
Base Attack/Grapple: +4/+6
Attack: Vine lash +9 melee (1d6+2 plus entangle)
Full Attack: 2 vine lashes +9 melee (1d6+2 plus entangle)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./10 ft. (with vines)
Special Attacks: Entangling grasp, gaze of the sunken grove, call of the mire
Special Qualities: Damage reduction 5/cold iron, low-light vision, plant traits (partial), swamp stride, camouflage, regeneration 3 (suppressed by fire)
Saves: Fort +5, Ref +11, Will +9
Abilities: Str 14, Dex 20, Con 16, Int 12, Wis 17, Cha 18
Skills: Hide +16, Listen +14, Move Silently +15, Spot +14, Survival +14, Knowledge (nature) +12
Feats: Weapon Finesse, Alertness, Ability Focus (gaze of the sunken grove)
Environment: Warm marshes and bayous
Organization: Solitary or grove (2–4)
Challenge Rating: 7
Treasure: Standard
Alignment: Usually neutral
Advancement: 9–12 HD (Medium), 13–16 HD (Large)
Level Adjustment: —

DESCRIPTION

The Mirewood Warden appears at first glance to be a woman half-claimed by the swamp itself. Her flesh merges seamlessly with bark, moss, and fungal bloom - not as a corruption, but as a slow and deliberate becoming. Vines coil along her cheekbones and jaw like living veins, and her hair hangs in damp cords threaded with root and lichen.

One eye burns with a dim, golden bioluminescence - not bright enough to illuminate, but impossible to ignore. The other remains dull, as though drowned in shadow. Her skin glistens perpetually with moisture, as if the swamp refuses to release her from its grasp even for a moment.

When still, she is nearly indistinguishable from the surrounding cypress and rot. Only the faint rise and fall of breath - or the slow turning of that glowing eye - betrays her presence.

COMBAT

Mirewood Wardens do not rush into violence. They wait. They watch. They let the swamp soften their prey first.

They prefer to strike from concealment, using terrain and mist to isolate intruders. Combat often begins only when escape is no longer possible.

Entangling Grasp (Ex): A creature struck by a vine lash must succeed on a DC 17 Reflex save or become entangled as roots and creeping vines erupt from the Warden’s limbs and the surrounding ground. The target may attempt a Strength check (DC 17) or Escape Artist check (DC 15) as a move action to break free.

Gaze of the Sunken Grove (Su): 30 ft., Will DC 17 negates. The Warden fixes its glowing eye upon a target, forcing visions of drowning, suffocation, and slow burial beneath roots. On a failed save, the creature is shaken for 1d4 rounds and takes a –2 penalty on attack rolls and skill checks. If already shaken, the target becomes frightened instead. This is a mind-affecting fear effect.

Call of the Mire (Su): Once per day, as a full-round action, the Warden may animate the swamp in a 20-ft. radius. The area becomes difficult terrain, and all enemies within must succeed on a DC 17 Reflex save or fall prone as the ground softens and shifts unnaturally. The effect lasts 5 rounds.

SPECIAL QUALITIES

Swamp Stride (Ex): A Mirewood Warden may move through natural marsh, mud, and shallow water without penalty and leaves no trail.

Camouflage (Ex): In swamp or forest terrain, a Warden gains a +10 bonus on Hide checks. If it remains motionless, creatures must succeed on a Spot check opposed by Hide to notice it at all.

Regeneration (Ex): Fire and acid deal normal damage to a Mirewood Warden. All other damage is converted to nonlethal damage.

Plant Affinity (Ex): Though a fey, the Warden counts as a plant for effects that specifically target plant creatures, though it is not immune to mind-affecting effects.

LORE

There are those in the bayou who insist the Mirewood Wardens were once human - women who wandered too far into the drowned places and were claimed not by death, but by something patient. Others claim they are older than humanity entirely, the swamp’s attempt at making something that can watch.

What is certain is this: they do not guard the swamp in any simple sense. They tend it. They prune it. They remove what does not belong - whether that be invasive beasts, careless travelers, or entire encampments that linger too long.

The golden eye is a thing of particular superstition. Some say it is a gift - a fragment of sunlight trapped and preserved in a place where the sky rarely reaches. Others say it is bait, meant to draw the lost and the curious just a few steps deeper into the mire, where footing fails and voices carry strangely.

Encounters with Mirewood Wardens are rarely witnessed twice by the same person. Those who survive often speak of a feeling more than a memory - of being watched long before they ever saw her, and of the swamp itself seeming… disappointed… when they escaped.

Mireborn Kin (The Bayou-Blooded)

Size/Type: Medium Humanoid (Human, Augmented)
Hit Dice: 3d8+3 (16 hp)
Initiative: +1
Speed: 30 ft., swim 20 ft.
Armor Class: 12 (+1 Dex, +1 natural), touch 11, flat-footed 11
Base Attack/Grapple: +2/+2
Attack: Rusted blade or crude tool +2 melee (1d6 plus venomtail poison) or claw +2 melee (1d4 plus venomtail poison)
Full Attack: 2 claws +2 melee (1d4 plus venomtail poison) or weapon +2 melee (1d6 plus venomtail poison)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Mire whisper, swamp-born resilience, venomtail poison, harvest instinct
Special Qualities: Hive murmur, bayou adaptation, disease tolerance, light sensitivity
Saves: Fort +4, Ref +2, Will +2
Abilities: Str 10, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 8, Wis 11, Cha 9
Skills: Hide +6, Listen +5, Move Silently +6, Survival +5, Swim +6
Feats: Stealthy, Alertness
Environment: Warm marshes and deep bayous
Organization: Cluster (3–8), brood (9–20), or congregation (21–60)
Challenge Rating: 2
Treasure: Standard (mostly crude, waterlogged items)
Alignment: Usually Neutral Evil
Advancement: By character class (favored class: Sorcerer)
Level Adjustment: —

SPECIAL ATTACKS

Mire Whisper (Su): As a free action, a Mireborn Kin emits a low, wet murmur audible within 30 ft. All Mireborn Kin within range gain a +1 morale bonus on attack rolls and Will saves. This bonus increases to +2 if at least 5 are present and +3 if 10 or more are present.

Swamp-Born Resilience (Ex): While within swamp, marsh, or standing water terrain, a Mireborn Kin gains fast healing 2. This benefit ends immediately upon leaving such terrain.

Venomtail Poison (Ex): Injury, Fortitude DC 18; initial damage 1d4 Str and 1d4 Dex; secondary damage 1d6 Str. A Mireborn Kin’s claws and wielded melee weapons are considered envenomed. The poison remains effective for 1 minute after application. Mireborn Kin never risk accidental self-poisoning when applying this toxin.

Harvest Instinct (Ex): Mireborn do not kill incapacitated creatures unless threatened. Any creature reduced to 0 Strength, paralyzed, or otherwise rendered helpless is instead considered suitable for capture. A Mireborn will immediately attempt to grapple such a target (no attack of opportunity if the target is helpless) and drag it toward the nearest brood site. Mireborn prioritize the retrieval of living captives over finishing conscious enemies if a viable subject has been secured.

SPECIAL QUALITIES

Hive Murmur (Su):
Mireborn Kin share a low-grade communal awareness. They cannot be flanked while at least one other Mireborn Kin is within 10 feet. Additionally, they gain a +2 bonus on Listen and Spot checks when within 30 feet of another Mireborn.

Bayou Adaptation (Ex):
Mireborn Kin suffer no penalties for moving through difficult terrain caused by mud, shallow water, or vegetation. They may always take 10 on Swim checks, even when threatened.

Disease Tolerance (Ex):
Mireborn Kin gain a +4 racial bonus on saves against disease and poison. However, they often visibly carry such afflictions.

Light Sensitivity (Ex):
Mireborn Kin are dazzled in bright sunlight or within the radius of a daylight spell.

DESCRIPTION

At a distance, they resemble people - thin, stooped, and watchful. Up close, that illusion rots away.

Their skin bears a sickly olive cast, stretched too tight in some places and sagging in others, as though the body beneath has forgotten its proper shape. Their hair hangs in long, damp strands resembling Spanish moss, often clotted together with filth and stagnant water. Their eyes are wrong - not in movement, but in stillness, as though they receive the world rather than look at it.

Boils, lesions, and slow-weeping sores mark nearly every inch of exposed flesh. The smell that follows them is brackish and faintly sweet, like something long steeped in still water.

They rarely speak as individuals. Instead, they murmur - overlapping whispers that only form meaning when heard together.

It is said the Mireborn seek out striped venomtails with patient, deliberate intent, luring them into shallow, choking waters where nets of woven reed and bone await. They do not kill the creature quickly. They wound it. They bleed it. They take from it what they need.

The venom is collected in crude vessels - hollowed gourds, skulls, or thick glass when such things can be stolen - and worked into their weapons with unsettling care. Spears, hooks, and jagged blades are coated in the toxin, not for swift death, but for the slow undoing of those struck.

Those who have survived such wounds speak of a familiar sensation - not pain, but surrender. Muscles loosening. Strength fading. The body forgetting how to resist.

LORE

The Mireborn Kin descend from human families who vanished into the deep bayou generations ago. Isolation turned inward. Bloodlines folded back upon themselves. Names repeated until they lost meaning.

Yet it was not inbreeding alone that shaped them. The bayou itself - thick with stagnant magic and things that never fully surface - seeped into them. Not as a curse, nor a blessing, but as inheritance.

They do not worship the bayou. They belong to it.

Cannibalism is central to their existence. The dead are not buried. They are given. Flesh is shared, offered, and returned to the brood. In this way, nothing is lost - only redistributed.

Travelers who vanish are sometimes seen again months later. Thinner. Quieter. Their eyes calmer.

And never alone.

MIREBORN ORACLE

Size/Type: Medium Humanoid (Human, Augmented)
Hit Dice: 3d8+3 plus 4d4+4 (31 hp)
Initiative: +1
Speed: 30 ft., swim 20 ft.
Armor Class: 13 (+1 Dex, +2 natural), touch 11, flat-footed 12
Base Attack/Grapple: +4/+4
Attack: Claw +4 melee (1d4 plus venomtail poison)
Full Attack: 2 claws +4 melee (1d4 plus venomtail poison)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Mire whisper, spells, venomtail poison, harvest instinct
Special Qualities: Hive murmur, bayou adaptation, disease tolerance, light sensitivity, swamp conduit
Saves: Fort +5, Ref +3, Will +6
Abilities: Str 10, Dex 12, Con 12, Int 8, Wis 12, Cha 14
Skills: Hide +7, Listen +8, Move Silently +7, Survival +8, Spellcraft +6
Feats: Stealthy, Alertness, Spell Focus (Necromancy)
Environment: Warm marshes and deep bayous
Organization: Solitary or with brood (1 plus 6–20 Mireborn Kin)
Challenge Rating: 4
Treasure: Standard
Alignment: Usually Neutral Evil
Advancement: By character class
Level Adjustment: —

Spells Known (CL 4th):
0 - detect magic, ghost sound, touch of fatigue, resistance
1st - cause fear, obscuring mist, ray of enfeeblement
2nd - blindness/deafness, fog cloud

Swamp Conduit (Su):
While standing in natural swamp water, the Mireborn Oracle casts spells at +1 caster level and increases spell DCs by +1.

SPECIAL ATTACKS

Mire Whisper (Su): As Mireborn Kin.

Venomtail Poison (Ex): Injury, Fortitude DC 18; initial damage 1d4 Str and 1d4 Dex; secondary damage 1d6 Str. The Oracle’s claws are typically envenomed prior to combat. As a swift action, the Mireborn Oracle may reapply poison to its claws up to 3 times per day. It never risks accidental self-poisoning.

Harvest Instinct (Ex): Mireborn do not kill incapacitated creatures unless threatened. Any creature reduced to 0 Strength, paralyzed, or otherwise rendered helpless is instead considered suitable for capture. A Mireborn will immediately attempt to grapple such a target (no attack of opportunity if the target is helpless) and drag it toward the nearest brood site. Mireborn prioritize the retrieval of living captives over finishing conscious enemies if a viable subject has been secured.

ORACLE LORE

Among the Mireborn, a rare few females become something closer to a voice. Only female Mireborn become Oracles.

Their magic is not learned. It seeps through them. They stand half-submerged for hours, whispering into water that does not ripple. When they move, others follow - not out of loyalty, but because the current has shifted.

MIREBORN BROOD MOTHER

Size/Type: Large Humanoid (Human, Augmented)
Hit Dice: 8d8+24 (60 hp)
Initiative: –1
Speed: 20 ft., swim 20 ft.
Armor Class: 16 (–1 size, –1 Dex, +8 natural), touch 8, flat-footed 16
Base Attack/Grapple: +6/+12
Attack: Slam +12 melee (1d8+6 plus disease)
Full Attack: 2 slams +12 melee (1d8+6 plus disease) and bite +7 melee (1d6+3)
Space/Reach: 10 ft./10 ft.
Special Attacks: Brood call, devouring embrace, mire curse
Special Qualities: Greater hive murmur, swamp regeneration, disease host, bayou anchor, light sensitivity, living feast
Saves: Fort +9, Ref +1, Will +6
Abilities: Str 18, Dex 8, Con 16, Int 7, Wis 13, Cha 14
Skills: Listen +10, Spot +10, Survival +9, Intimidate +9
Feats: Toughness, Great Fortitude, Skill Focus (Intimidate)
Environment: Warm marshes and deep bayous
Organization: Solitary (with 20–60 Mireborn Kin)
Challenge Rating: 7
Treasure: Standard (often sunken or embedded in lair)
Alignment: Usually Neutral Evil
Advancement: 9–14 HD (Large), 15–20 HD (Huge)
Level Adjustment: —

SPECIAL ATTACKS

Brood Call (Su):
As a standard action, the Brood Mother emits a deep, layered crooning out to 300 feet. Mireborn Kin gain maximum Mire Whisper (+3 morale bonus) and may take an immediate 5-foot step. Non-Mireborn creatures must succeed on a DC 15 Will save or be shaken for 1d4 rounds.

Devouring Embrace (Ex):
On a successful grapple against a Medium or smaller creature, the Brood Mother may deal 2d6+6 damage as a full-round action. If this reduces the target to 0 hp or lower, she heals 15 hit points. Mireborn within 30 feet gain a +2 morale bonus on attack rolls for 3 rounds.

Mire Curse (Su):
Creatures damaged by the Brood Mother’s bite must succeed on a DC 17 Fortitude save or contract Mire Rot.

SPECIAL QUALITIES

Greater Hive Murmur (Su):
Mireborn within 60 feet gain maximum Mire Whisper, cannot be flanked, and gain a +2 bonus on all saving throws.

Swamp Regeneration (Ex):
While partially submerged in swamp or mud, the Brood Mother gains regeneration 5 (fire and acid deal normal damage).

Disease Host (Ex):
Immune to disease. Creatures striking her with natural weapons or unarmed attacks must succeed on a DC 17 Fortitude save or contract Mire Rot.

Bayou Anchor (Su):
Within 1 mile of her lair, non-Mireborn creatures take a –2 penalty on Survival, Listen, and Spot checks and suffer –10 ft. movement speed.

Light Sensitivity (Ex):
Dazzled in bright sunlight or daylight effects.

Living Feast (Ex):
The Broodmother can only benefit fully from consuming living creatures. Any creature delivered alive (even if unconscious or helpless) provides nourishment or triggers any of the Broodmother’s feeding-based abilities. Dead creatures provide no such benefit.

DISEASE: MIRE ROT

Injury; Fortitude DC 17; Incubation 1d3 days; Damage 1d4 Con and 1d4 Cha

Skin softens and weeps brackish fluid. Thoughts blur, accompanied by distant whispering. A creature reduced to 0 Charisma does not die, but instead wanders into the swamp seeking the Brood Mother.

BROOD MOTHER DESCRIPTION

The Brood Mother is not simply a creature, but a place where many have ended and something else has begun.

Her massive form sags and swells unevenly, as though shaped by slow pressure rather than growth. Her hair drapes like wet moss into the water around her, and small creatures often live within it undisturbed.

Her face still echoes humanity, but softened, widened, and stilled. Her eyes are calm. Always calm.

The water around her is never still.

BROOD MOTHER LORE

The Mireborn do not reproduce as other humans do.

They bring her flesh.

What began as survival became ritual, and what became ritual became identity. The weak are given. The dead are given. Strangers most of all are given. Cannibalism is not desperation - it is communion.

Those consumed are not lost entirely. Their voices join the murmur. Their memories dissolve into the whole.

When Mire Rot takes hold, the afflicted feel the pull of the swamp. Those who reach her are not turned away.

They are welcomed.

And in time, the brood grows.

Kelwyn’s Notes

Ah… yes. The Mireborn. One does not so much study them as endure their presence long enough to form an opinion - and even that, I confess, feels like an intrusion upon something that was never meant to be observed.

At first glance, they may be mistaken for the unfortunate descendants of isolation and poor fortune - a pitiable lineage shaped by environment and circumstance. This is a comforting lie. The truth is rather more unsettling: they are not merely people who have adapted to the bayou, but something that has been accepted by it. Their condition is not degeneration alone, but incorporation. The swamp has not rejected them. It has, in its own quiet and patient way, made use of them.

Individually, they are not remarkable threats. Frail of frame, dulled of wit, and lacking the ferocity one might expect from creatures of such appearance, a single Mireborn may be dispatched with relative ease by any reasonably prepared traveler. Even in small clusters, they rely more upon proximity and shared awareness than any singular prowess. One could, if properly equipped and possessed of a steady nerve, carve a path through them.

One should not.

For the danger of the Mireborn does not lie in the strength of the individual, but in the inevitability of the collective. They do not gather in the manner of men, with purpose or command - they accumulate. Quietly. Gradually. Inevitably. One becomes three. Three becomes ten. And before one fully appreciates the shift, the air itself seems occupied by their presence. It is not the sensation of being surrounded that troubles the mind most, but the realization that one has been within their number for some time without noticing. To top it off, their use of poison derived from the Venomtail is most... distasteful. To harvest such a substance from a living creature, to refine it, to apply it with intent - this suggests not desperation, but preference. There is a deliberateness to their actions that I cannot comfortably attribute to mere survival.

Most troubling of all are those rare figures in whom the Mireborn condition deepens into something more focused - the so-called Oracles. These beings do not lead, nor do they command, yet their presence alters the behavior of the others in ways that defy simple explanation. They listen - not to you, nor to one another, but to something beneath and between. I would strongly advise against interrupting such communion. One gets the distinct impression that doing so places one not at the center of their attention, but within the awareness of something far less divisible.

And then… there is the Brood Mother.

I shall be uncharacteristically direct: do not approach such a thing. Do not observe it. Do not test it. Should you become aware that you are within the domain of a Brood Mother, your only sensible course of action is immediate and decisive withdrawal. Only those possessed of immense magics - or a frankly suicidal ideology - would consider standing against such a being, and I cannot in good conscience recommend either path.

It is not merely her physical enormity, though that alone would be sufficient cause for concern. It is the effect she exerts upon the Mireborn as a whole - the manner in which their already tenuous individuality collapses entirely in her presence. Near her, they do not behave as a group. They behave as a single, distributed organism. One does not fight such a thing in any meaningful sense. One is… processed by it.

I have spent a great many years cataloguing the peculiar, the dangerous, and the outright profane. Very little has ever compelled me toward outright avoidance.

The Mireborn have.

Should you hear them before you see them - and you will, if you are unfortunate enough - I suggest you treat that as the only warning you are likely to receive.

Entresto Valcaire

Male Human Vampire Bard 3

Size/Type Medium Undead (Augmented Humanoid)

Hit Dice 8d12 (52 hp)

Initiative +8

Speed 30 ft. (6 squares), climb 20 ft.

Armor Class 24 (+4 Dex, +6 natural, +4 deflection), touch 18, flat-footed 20

Base Attack/Grapple +4/+8

Attack slam +8 melee (1d6+4 plus energy drain)

Full Attack slam +8 melee (1d6+4 plus energy drain)

Space/Reach 5 ft./5 ft.

Special Attacks

    • Blood Drain (Ex) If Entresto pins a foe, he drains blood dealing 1d4 Constitution damage each round; he gains 5 temporary hit points each round he drains blood

    • Energy Drain (Su) Living creatures hit by Entresto’s slam gain two negative levels (Fort DC 20 removes after 24 hours)

    • Dominate (Su) As dominate person (CL 12th, Will DC 20), at will

    • Children of the Night (Su) 1/day summon 1d6+1 rat swarms, 1d4+1 bat swarms, or 3d6 wolves; arrive in 2d6 rounds

    • Create Spawn (Su) Humanoids slain by Entresto’s energy drain rise as vampire spawn under his control

    • Bardic Music (Su) Countersong, fascinate (DC 18), inspire courage +1; 3/day

Special Qualities alternate form, damage reduction 10/silver and magic, darkvision 60 ft., fast healing 5, gaseous form, spider climb, turn resistance +4, undead traits, vampire weaknesses

Saves Fort +2, Ref +10, Will +10

Ability Scores Str 18, Dex 18, Con —, Int 16, Wis 14, Cha 20

Skills Bluff +20, Diplomacy +18, Disguise +17 (+19 acting), Gather Information +18, Intimidate +18, Perform (oratory) +18, Sense Motive +14, Hide +16, Move Silently +16, Listen +14, Spot +14

Feats Skill Focus (Bluff), Negotiator, Persuasive

Environment Any urban or marsh (decadent river cities, bayous)

Organization Solitary or with 3–8 vampire spawn and numerous thralls

Challenge Rating 9

Treasure Triple standard

Alignment Lawful Evil

Advancement By character class

Level Adjustment —

Blood Drain (Ex) If Entresto pins a foe, he drains blood dealing 1d4 Constitution damage each round; he gains 5 temporary hit points each round he drains blood.

Energy Drain (Su) Living creatures hit by Entresto’s slam gain two negative levels (Fort DC 20 removes after 24 hours).

Dominate (Su) As dominate person (CL 12th, Will DC 20), at will.

Children of the Night (Su) 1/day summon 1d6+1 rat swarms, 1d4+1 bat swarms, or 3d6 wolves; arrive in 2d6 rounds.

Create Spawn (Su) Humanoids slain by Entresto’s energy drain rise as vampire spawn under his control. 

Alternate Form (Su) Can assume bat, dire bat, wolf, or dire wolf form as a standard action.

Gaseous Form (Su) At 0 hp becomes gaseous and must reach his coffin within 2 hours or be destroyed. Spider Climb (Ex) Continuous as the spell.

Bard Spells Known (CL 3rd; concentration +8) 1st (3/day)—charm person, disguise self, silent image; 0 (3/day)—daze, ghost sound, mage hand, message, prestidigitation, read magic.

Vampire Weaknesses Entresto cannot tolerate direct sunlight (destroyed in 1 round), takes damage from running water (1/3 hp per round), must rest in a coffin, is repelled by garlic and mirrors, and can be immobilized by a wooden stake through the heart.

Description

Entresto Valcaire appears as a pale, exquisitely composed nobleman whose beauty borders on the unnatural. His skin is deathly smooth and unblemished, his dark hair falling in deliberate disarray around a face carved with aristocratic precision. His lips are faintly tinted, as though perpetually touched by wine — or something darker.

His movements are unhurried, controlled, impossibly graceful. He does not fidget. He does not startle. Even in stillness, there is a coiled intent to him, like a predator that has long since mastered patience. When he speaks, his voice carries that same subtle dual cadence — one warm, persuasive… the other cold, possessive.

His eyes are the most telling feature: fixed, intelligent, and quietly hungry.

Lore

No one can say exactly when Entresto Valcaire died — or if he ever truly did. Records of House Valcaire grow fragmented and contradictory in the years surrounding his supposed lifetime, as though history itself resists holding a consistent shape around him. Some accounts place him as a minor court bard. Others describe a political intermediary, a broker of quiet arrangements. A few darker whispers claim he was always something else.

What is certain is that Entresto did not become a vampire through desperation or accident. If anything, it appears to have been a calculated ascension — a refinement of what he already was. Where others hunger chaotically, Entresto feeds with restraint, selecting victims not for ease, but for utility. Nobles, merchants, officials — those whose absence can be explained, or better yet, leveraged.

Unlike feral undead, Entresto remains deeply embedded in society. He hosts gatherings, attends salons, and maintains a carefully curated presence among the living. Few suspect him. Fewer survive long after they do. Those who fall under his influence often describe a strange sensation — not of domination, but of agreement, as though they have willingly given themselves over to his will.

And then there is the voice.

Witnesses — rare and often unreliable — speak of moments when Entresto’s speech fractures, ever so slightly. A second tone emerges beneath the first, not echoing, but overlapping. It does not plead. It does not argue. It simply exists, cold and patient, as though waiting for something.

Some believe this is the mark of vampirism.

Others believe Entresto was never alone to begin with.

Madame Grands Doigts

“Madame Long Fingers” - Hag of the Attic Shadows

Medium Fey

Hit Dice: 7d6+28 (52 hp)
Initiative: +2
Speed: 30 ft. (6 squares), climb 20 ft.
Armor Class: 18 (+2 Dex, +6 natural), touch 12, flat-footed 16
Base Attack/Grapple: +3 / +7
Attack: Claw +9 melee (1d4+4 plus weakness)
Full Attack: 2 claws +9 melee (1d4+4 plus weakness)
Space/Reach: 5 ft./5 ft.
Special Attacks: Weakness, mimicry, attic whisper
Special Qualities: Change shape, mimicry, attic passage, swamp attunement, darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision
Saves: Fort +6, Ref +7, Will +8
Ability Scores: Str 19, Dex 14, Con 18, Int 13, Wis 14, Cha 15
Skills: Bluff +12, Climb +12, Hide +10, Listen +8, Move Silently +10, Spot +8, Use Rope +4
Feats: Alertness, Ability Focus (weakness), Stealthy
Environment: Warm marshes and bayous (and inhabited structures)
Organization: Solitary
Challenge Rating: 6
Treasure: Standard
Alignment: Always neutral evil
Advancement: 8–10 HD (Medium)
Level Adjustment: —

Weakness (Su)

A hit from Madame Grands Doigts’ claw forces a DC 16 Fortitude save or the victim takes 1d4 points of Strength damage.

Mimicry (Ex)

Madame Grands Doigts can imitate the voice of any child or familiar adult she has heard (DC 14 Sense Motive to detect).

Attic Whisper (Su)

Within a structure, she may project faint voices through ceilings and walls. Children (typically under 12) must succeed on a DC 15 Will save or become fascinated for 1d4 rounds.

Change Shape (Su)

As a green hag; typically assumes the form of a frail Cajun grandmother, veiled penitent, or masked celebrant of La Fête Humide.

Attic Passage (Su)

Madame Grands Doigts can move through attics, crawlspaces, rafters, and wall gaps without penalty, ignoring squeezing restrictions and passing through openings as small as 6 inches while within a structure.

Swamp Attunement (Ex)

Within 1 mile of swamp or bayou, Madame Grands Doigts gains a +2 bonus on Hide and Move Silently checks and may track by scent.

Description

Madame Grands Doigts appears as a gaunt, elderly woman stretched unnaturally thin, her limbs elongated beyond human proportion. Her most horrifying feature is her hands - impossibly long, jointed fingers like skeletal branches, each digit bending at too many angles, ending in yellowed, splinter-like nails.

Her skin has the pallid, waterlogged quality of something steeped too long in swamp water, faintly gray-green and drawn tight over sharp bone. Sparse strands of damp, wiry hair hang across her face, often obscuring her expression - though when visible, her eyes gleam with a patient, knowing malice.

She moves with disturbing silence, often clinging to beams or crouched in upper corners like a great, thin insect. Most never see her clearly. Instead, they hear her first - soft creaks overhead, dragging fingertips across wood, or whispers slipping through ceiling boards in voices that should not be there.

Behavior

Madame Grands Doigts is a patient and ritualistic predator. She selects homes with children - especially during times of excess, distraction, and noise - and infiltrates the upper spaces where she can remain unseen.

She is most active during La Fête Humide, when households are consumed by celebration. Music, drink, and masked revelry below create the perfect cover for her movements above. Doors are left open, routines break down, and children wander.

She does not strike immediately. Over several nights, she cultivates fear - footsteps overhead, voices calling softly, objects shifting where no one has touched them. She tests boundaries, waiting for a child to respond.

A child who climbs toward the attic, answers a whisper, or separates from the safety of others becomes her target. Only then does she act - extending her long fingers through cracks, stairwells, or ceiling gaps to seize her prey with sudden, silent violence.

Lore

In the parishes of your setting, Madame Grands Doigts is a warning spoken quietly to children as La Fête Humide approaches. She represents the danger that comes not from sin or judgment, but from losing control in the midst of celebration.

Where the festival encourages masks, indulgence, and chaos, she is the thing that does not play along.

Folklore claims she listens for certain signs: children calling into empty spaces, laughter where no one stands, or voices answered when they should be ignored. Some traditions insist she cannot take a child who remains grounded among family - but any child who climbs, hides, or answers a voice from above risks inviting her in.

Scholars and rootworkers believe she is a localized manifestation of Green Hag malice shaped by cultural fear, bound to the liminal space between celebration and neglect. During La Fête Humide, when identity blurs and attention falters, that boundary weakens - and she slips through.

There are darker whispers still: that she does not merely kill, but collects. That somewhere between attic and swamp exists a place that belongs to her - a warped, impossible space of beams and shadows where the taken are kept.

And in some homes, before the music begins, the old warning is still given:

“Dance all you like… but don’t go climbing where the house creaks.”

Masque of the Drowned Revel

Large Construct

Size/Type: Large Construct
Hit Dice: 12d10+40 (106 hp)
Initiative: -1
Speed: 20 ft., swim 20 ft. (see lurching frame)
Armor Class: 23 (-1 size, -1 Dex, +15 natural), touch 8, flat-footed 23
Base Attack/Grapple: +9/+20
Attack: Slam +15 melee (1d10+7 plus drowning seep)
Full Attack: 2 slams +15 melee (1d10+7 plus drowning seep)
Space/Reach: 10 ft./10 ft.
Special Attacks: Confetti Suffocation, Siren’s Procession, Drowning Embrace
Special Qualities: Construct traits, damage reduction 10/adamantine, darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, waterlogged mass, lurching frame, carnival resonance
Saves: Fort +4, Ref +3, Will +4
Abilities: Str 24, Dex 8, Con —, Int —, Wis 12, Cha 16
Skills: —
Feats: —
Environment: Warm marshes, flooded districts, festival grounds
Organization: Solitary, pair, or procession (3–6)
Challenge Rating: 9
Treasure: None
Alignment: Always neutral
Advancement: 13–18 HD (Large), 19–24 HD (Huge)
Level Adjustment: —

Special Attacks

Confetti Suffocation (Su):
As a standard action every 1d4 rounds, the masque violently expels a storm of damp, clinging festival debris in a 20-ft. radius burst. Creatures in the area must succeed on a DC 18 Reflex save or become entangled and begin choking as soaked paper, fabric fragments, and particulate matter adhere to their face and airway.

Affected creatures must make a DC 18 Fortitude save each round or take 1d6 nonlethal damage and be unable to speak or cast spells with verbal components. Three consecutive failures render the victim unconscious as though drowning.

The save DC is Charisma-based.

Siren’s Procession (Su):
The masque emits distant, distorted festival sounds - horns, drums, laughter dragged through water. All creatures within 60 ft. must succeed on a DC 18 Will save or be compelled to move toward the masque at half speed, as if joining a procession.

This is a mind-affecting compulsion effect. Creatures that successfully save are immune to that masque’s procession for 24 hours.

Drowning Embrace (Ex):
If the masque hits a creature with both slam attacks in the same round, it may attempt to start a grapple as a free action without provoking attacks of opportunity. On a successful grapple, water floods from its mass into the victim’s mouth and lungs.

The victim must succeed on a DC 19 Fortitude save each round or begin drowning (as per DMG rules), even if not submerged.

Special Qualities

Waterlogged Mass (Ex):
The masque’s body is saturated with stagnant water and compacted debris. It takes half damage from fire effects but takes +50% damage from electricity. Any square it occupies or moves through becomes difficult terrain until the start of its next turn.

Lurching Frame (Ex):
The Masque of the Drowned Revel does not walk. Its internal frame shifts first, dragging the outer mass behind it in delayed, uneven motion.

Whenever the masque moves, its movement is resolved in two stages:

• During its turn, it may move up to half its speed as the frame repositions.
• At the end of its turn, it completes the movement as the outer mass collapses and drags into place.

This delayed motion has the following effects:

• The masque does not provoke attacks of opportunity for movement during its turn, but does provoke normally at the end of its turn when the mass settles.
• Creatures adjacent to the masque at the end of its movement must succeed on a DC 18 Reflex save or be knocked prone by the shifting, collapsing mass.
• Squares it enters are immediately filled with dragging debris and water, becoming difficult terrain.

Visually, this appears as a structure failing forward in controlled increments rather than walking.

Carnival Resonance (Su):
Within 60 feet of active music, intoxicated crowds, or ongoing celebration, the masque gains fast healing 3. In silent or abandoned environments, it instead takes a -2 penalty on attack rolls and AC.

Description

At a distance, the Masque of the Drowned Revel resembles a collapsed parade figure struggling to remain upright - a towering mass of soaked fabrics, tangled beads, and broken structure rising from black water. Its silhouette is uneven and subtly wrong, with one side sagging lower than the other and its upper mass twisted slightly off-axis.

Closer inspection reveals the truth: it is not wearing anything. It is made of it.

A waterlogged internal frame of warped wooden supports and rusted metal rods forms its crude structure, visible in places where the outer mass has split or thinned. Around this frame, layers of festival debris - velvet, lace, silks, feathers, and cords of beads - have compacted into a single fused mass, swollen and bound by long immersion in stagnant water.

Nothing hangs naturally. Nothing fits. There are no seams, no garments - only accumulation.

Mounted near the top of the structure is a single porcelain masquerade mask. Smooth, pale, and pristine, it bears a refined, smiling expression with faint gold tear streaks. It is affixed to the frame at a slightly incorrect angle, with no sign of a head or face behind it.

Water constantly seeps from the construct, dripping in slow, steady streams. The surrounding water ripples even when it is still.

Movement

The masque does not walk - it rearranges itself closer.

Its internal frame shifts first with a series of subtle, uneven adjustments: beams slide, rods flex, joints settle with damp, splintering sounds. Only after this repositioning does the outer mass respond, dragging, collapsing, and pulling forward through the water.

Each movement appears unstable, as though the structure might fail entirely, yet it never does.

The outer layers lag behind the frame, catching and releasing with visible resistance. Bead strands tighten and slacken as tension shifts through the structure. Sections of the mass momentarily deform before settling back into place.

Water displacement precedes motion. Ripples spread outward before the full body catches up, as if the environment reacts faster than the construct itself.

The mask does not guide this movement. It does not turn or track. Instead, the entire upper structure slowly reorients, and the mask simply ends up facing its target - sometimes a moment too late.

To observers, it does not appear to take steps. It is simply… closer than it was.

Lore

Masques of the Drowned Revel are believed to form in the aftermath of excess - where celebration lingers too long in places that cannot sustain it. In flooded districts and drowned festival routes, discarded decorations, shattered masks, and abandoned finery collect in stagnant water.

Over time, these remnants bind together.

Some claim the process is purely environmental - weight, water, and time compressing materials into structure. Others insist that something else settles into the mass: an echo of music, a memory of movement, or the lingering will of those lost to the revel.

Unlike most constructs, the masque does not serve a creator. It follows a pattern - a procession without beginning or end.

It does not hunt in the traditional sense. It approaches. It invites. It absorbs.

Those who vanish near sightings are rarely found intact. When remains are recovered, they are often entangled with unfamiliar materials - beads, fabric, fragments of mask - as though the celebration has claimed them as part of itself.

In rare instances, multiple masques gather, forming silent processions through flooded streets. No instruments are visible, yet distant music is always heard.

And those who hear it clearly often find themselves walking toward it… without remembering why.