There once was a blacksmith who got rich and famous, at least for his area, thanks to the help of some local fey. The wee folk were happy to help, in the beginning at least. At first, the blacksmith knew his place and gave them proper praise and gifts. But as his wealth grew, so did his ego. Once he'd crossed that line and hurt the fey's feelings, he had to be punished. This came in the form of a new 'enchanted' anvil gifted to him for being the best blacksmith ever. It ended up just being a mimic sculpted by fey magic. The blacksmith with a big head ended up having a very flat head, as did his family who came to investigate, his customers who came to pick up items, and then the local law who came to check out why folks weren't coming back from the shop. Since then these mimics have spread far and wide. Oh, they've eaten a few helpful fey too but the old adage about omelets and eggs applies just as well to anvils and heads... or... something like that. A...

Only one mimic a hero might come across in a circus full of them (shh, don't worry, it will be ok), the taming mimic is an offshoot of the stump mimic. It carries an innate ability to communicate and control animals. However, the taming mimic does not make friends. Instead, it commands fear from the beasts under its shadow. Whether a lion tamer's whip or a beast master's scepter, the mimic dominates the wills of simple animals as directed. Though it is capable of doing so without someone holding it. As such, it's developed a cruel streak that a proper circus would abhor. It views show animals as things to be exploited and then either discarded or eaten. Oddly, this perspective doesn't extend to humanoids. Oh, the monstrosity will still certainly eat them for nothing gets in the way if it's hunger. As is often the case, however, a bully is afraid of those who bully them and the mimic cowers under the thumb of the circus members who employ it. Taming Mimic ...

The Unholy Axe Ask anyone about the Unholy Axe and they know exactly what’s being talked about. They don’t even care that it’s a terrible pun. The legendary electric guitar serves as both an instrument and a weapon, though it doesn’t actually have sharpened sides. Forged from rusted steel, the Unholy Axe combines the powers of the Five Primordials. While it’s powered by an unquenchable fire ruby, its core is cooled by a shard of eternal ice - each set into its pickups. It bears machine heads made from fingerbones and boasts strings made from solid but flexible blood. Hell, the whammy bar is said to be a part of Hifistus Krull’s crown. A Warband member baring the Unholy Axe can shred like no other. Their chords whip those listening into a frenzy while their blows bypass any manner of elemental protection. This power comes with a price, though, as the owner cannot pass up a chance to perform, no matter the cost. Sure this is great in a gig or a fight, but not so great when trying to sn...

Inked Flagellant Not all those who followed the Harmonic Choir folded into the sinister Lethe after the world ended. Betrayed by their faith, their minds fractured and now they seek some sort of redemption in the ruined present. That redemption comes through self-abuse as they bleed their sins away and then tattoo righteous psalms across the wounds. Though, the inkled flagellant doesn’t realize they live in a time of nothing but sin and the sacred sayings they revere come from the institution that ended it all. Nearly invulnerable to pain, the average inked flagellant fights on when most would have already succumbed to their wounds. Why? Because everyone else is also a sinner and must be bled as well for their own good. These mad killers wield barbed scourges in combat and many find their skin as tough as hardened leather.

Fog Goblin Child-sized but full of three men’s worth of malice, fog goblins came into being when the old world died. In its death throes, everything out of what remains turned to insidious mist and raging sea. The anguish and hate of the dying concentrated down into theese goblins who seek to destroy what remains. Each goblin is uniquely and universally hideous but all share needle-filled mouths and glowing red eyes- though some have many more than two. Hunting in packs, the goblins use scavenged weapons and sharpened lengths of metal to fulfill their murderous desires. While a blow from most humans will kill a goblin, they hope to overwhelm a target before too many of them die. They also can use mists and fogs to both hide their numbers and ‘step’ to anywhere where fog might be. Enough of them can even drag an unwilling victim along for the ride.

Pallid Chimera A pathetic creature clumsily blending a white lion and white snake, the pallid chimera is a nocturnal predator that prefers stealthy kills to straight-up fights. Its sinuous body is covered with scant fur leaving naught but pale flesh behind where one can see its veins and sometimes bones. Its lion-like head contains a maw not of sharp teeth but two fangs full of paralytic poison. Once a target is subdued, it tears it apart with its claws, swallowing ragged chunks to slowly digest in its then-bloated stomach. Oddly, the pallid chimera can throw its voice dozens of yards which it uses both to confuse prey and to evade greater predators.

Rimeton As one might expect for being so close to the Font of Frost, Rimeton is trapped in an eternal winter. Every last one of its squat, square buildings are enrobed in glacial ice giving it a shimmering appearance whenever meager sunlight bathes them, which is not often at all. A thick blanket of black smoke rolls across the rooftops as those inside still need to keep warm. The Frost Primordial, Jak Rhyme, allows this despite his nature because if all his followers were frozen to death, well, he'd have no followers at all. A network of tunnels connects the major districts of the cities, all underground including ingenious trolley cars for long travel. These cars always run on time, even when they have to run over people for Rimeton is an orderly place. Its people, however, are known to be rather rowdy in contradiction. They fight hard, play hard, and drink hardest. Many travel with weapons as agreed upon duels are perfectly legal, even if those still living agree that a brawl ...

Temperance Fire and ice are natural opposites no matter how one slices it, but when they meet one another in balance it creates something wonderful. Well… sometimes. Other times one gets Temperance. Utterly misnamed, the city is one constantly embroiled in turf warfare. Those who follow the Elder Krewe currently have the upper hand after showering the populace with food, freedom, and heat. Of course, it comes with the cost of anarchy and petty crime but it’s better than frosty facism. At least, that’s how the ‘Krewes’ here sell it. Those gangs that follow Jak Rhyme work a sort of underground network, promising order and liberation from the carnage those in power promote. If they win, things won’t get much better for the common folk but they don’t care. Just like the fire side, the ‘Jackboots’ just want to win. Of course, neither side realizes total victory is nearly impossible until the world is remade. Here a Warband can play a gig at the Saint of Hells, an outdoor amphitheater buil...

Cities: Char Bazaar One would think the city built about the Font of Flame would be a hellish firescape, however, while it is hot the Char Bazaar is quite habitable. The bazaar also has very few permanent buildings, the most famous of which is its music stadium, the Singe Theater. Most live, work, and trade within a network of brightly colored pavilions, tents, and open stalls that consistently change location and spread as the public’s moods change… or a random hellfire storm takes out a few blocks in the blink of an eye. In this way, from above the city is an ever-changing display of orange, red, and yellow, much like the font it represents. Returning to the Singe Theater, this edifice of volcanic glass still glows with embers even though it has long since ‘cooled’. Its madcap architecture captures a raging fire caught in a moment of time with twisting angles that should collapse at any moment but never will. Inside, workers carved a vaulted theater of classical design where quite ...

A curious monstrosity indeed, the stump mimic feeds off of and adores woodland creatures in equal measure. It prefers a tranquil existence where forest beasts treat it as a valued ally and it can influence them to bring it better prey. But if worse comes to worst, it's not above consuming its 'friends'. The mimic's favored prey is humanoids, of course, though it likes to pay with its food. Its strange nature puts them into a fugue state making them easier to eat or the beats under its thrall to assault. Stump Mimic Medium Monstrosity (shapechanger), neutral Armor Class 14 (natural armor) Hit Points 76 (9d8 + 36) Speed 15 ft Str 15 Dex 12 Con 18 Int 5 Wis 16 Cha 8 Skills Nature -1, Stealth +5 Damage Immunities acid Condition Immunities prone Senses darkvision 60 ft, passive Perception 13 Languages - Challenge 3 (700 XP) Shapechanger. Th...

Smithville Caught between Fire and Rust, it’s not surprising that Smithville’s name is incredibly fitting. All manner of metal works from blacksmithing to silversmithing and everywhere in between is practiced within its limits. The constant fall of hammers creates an ebbing and flowing baseline which harmonically shifts as one makes their way from one side to the other. There are also a great deal of burn victims in Smithville, all of whom own their scars -big or small- with pride. In fact, the people here take body modification to the extreme for everything, even their flesh, is a canvas on which to create. Many find a strange sort of beauty to Smithville’s people, others unchecked revulsion. There really is no in-between. Those looking to belt out some tunes can do so at a dive bar called the Inferno. Of all the shitholes across the ruined world, this one is the most typical. Its windows are long boarded over, its walls a plain brick. The door bears just as many nicks and scars a...

Verdigris Beautiful in its decay, Verdigris is a metropolis of corroded spires arrayed about the Font of Rust. As one might expect, everything that can be fashioned from metal in the city is, though every bit of it is rusted, oxidized, tarnished, etc. The ground-level buildings run the gamut of deep red to bright orange with rents forming the patterns one might expect from stained glass windows. The top of its gothic structures, however, carry the city’s namesake hue of blue-green. Massive gears and mammoth pistons churn just behind the walls creating a music only heavy industry can provide. Even the city’s smokestacks are designed with aesthetics in mind, matching nearby cathedral spires and the like. Here one can find the Cold Forge, a rock stadium comprised of great gears parallel to its central stage. These gears, and thus the seating affixed to them, steadily turn. Ideally, this means that no matter where one sits they will get a great view at some point. In practice, this means...

Ruddyrun Situated on the border between the Fonts of Blood and Rust, it's a surprise that Ruddyrun still stands at all. Most of its buildings stand on corroded girders and lean against one another for support. Underneath, a mishmash of industrial runoff flows nonstop out into the misty sea. Some of the effluence consists of used oil and toxic sludge. The other part consists of slaughterhouse entrails and fetid blood. This of course creates a very interesting smell and most of Ruddyrun's citizens wear masks at all times to ward off the noxious fumes. Many of those here are missing extremities as well, yet still toil away during working hours. This is where all of the grossest, most hazardous jobs for both the land of Blood and Rust are done and it can be said that the two forces have someone almost like an alliance because of it. Of course, either Primordial or their followers are ready to stab the others in the back at the first opportunity. Here one can find the dive bar kn...

Artery Junction Dead center in the Blood Lands, Artery Junction houses not only the Font of Blood but the renowned music venue called the Vein Glory. Lord Blackbourne, the Primordial of Blood, is about as subtle as a curb-stomp and twice as gory. Artery Junction is a mashup of teetering buildings and red-stained streets that appear at first to be an industrial wasteland. Spend a little time here, however, and you will realize its factories have long been shut down and its warehouses contain only cobwebs and rats. It is in truth an urban jungle without any semblance of law other than kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. Any manner of excess can be found on its wild streets if one is willing to take the price. The problem is, that a seller might take more than is expected. Oh, and the street lamps double as sacrificial poles where their weak are impaled to curry Lord Blackbourne's favor. That isn't to say that everyone here will murder you just because. If you're strong, or...

Coldgrave Settled halfway between the Font of Bone and the Font of Frost, Coldgrave's name is most fitting. This rings true for most of the last bastions of civilization clinging to what's left of the world. Nuance died along with almost everything else long ago. Being influenced by two Primordials of Order, Coldgrave comes across as sterile at first glance. Every last one of its structures begins as a retrofitted columbarium or mausoleum that is then linked to a network of tunnels. See, the surface of Coldgrave is a frigid, unpleasant place where the sun never seems to shine and the frost never melts. Those who live here would rather exist in something close to an ant colony than constantly fight against the chill. That isn't to say that there is no surface activity to speak of, but most activity occurs under the ground. There is only one place to play here, The Longest Ship, constructed from a beached cargo vessel. The outside of the club is adorned with rune-scribed s...

Viscerapolis, or literally the City of Gore, lies between the Font of Bone and Font of Blood. Controlled by neither Primordial, it represents both of their aspects. On the one hand, its well-laid-out streets and uniform buildings may remind one of a marble cemetery. On the other, curtains of tanned human flesh hang in the windows, the gutters run with fetid blood, and everyone eats organ meat. One can find all manner of strange doctors and surgeons here as well. There is no solid law or government within the city, but rather competing gangs of clashing ideology. Some want strict order and control while others prefer chaos and free will. Given the lands the city borders, this is not surprising. Here one can find two dive bars for a Warband to play. The Tannery pays homage to the Path of Bone, a stinking pit full of leather-clad goons with a raised, caged stage. For the Path of Blood, one can play at The Red Rum Runner. This rowdy place is full of belligerent drunks and brutish vampires...

Raised by an ambitious clerk, the first desk mimic aided them with getting work done on time but also clocking in extra hours as needed. Not that the monstrosity was the sharpest nail in the box. However, it understood enough to get things done. Likewise, the mimic became a student of humanoid culture and helped its owner navigate office politics.That wasn't just getting work done on time. It also meant planting evidence, spying on others, and making a few troublesome rivals disappear. Soon enough the clerk got the vaulted position they desired...only to get murdered by a thief in the night. Because of this the desk mimic and its spawn have an intense loathing of late-night 'visitors'. Desk Mimic Large Monstrosity (shapechanger), neutral Armor Class 12 (natural armor) Hit Points 66 (7d10 + 28) Speed 15 ft Str 18 Dex 11 Con 18 Int 8 Wis 16 Cha 8 Skills Insight +5, Sleight of Hand +2, S...

Built around the Font of Bone, Marrowfield, is a sprawling city composed of bones, headstones, and rusted iron. One might feel that it's a great maze at first glance, but after just a few minutes one realizes how exact and natural it actually is. By following streets made from knee bones, one will find every kind of mercantile. If one walks avenues lined with angel statues, they will find all manner of hospitals, charities, and sick houses. This understanding of where to go for any visitor to Marrowfield also stems from Lady Farius' love of order. Vast libraries of knowledge from across the destroyed world are stored in the city's fortress-libraries. However, these are not for public consumption. Lady Farius does not want old, 'dangerous' ideas infect minds as she works on creating a uniform world of death. The Ossuarium sits in the center of Marrowfield.This massive, upturned skull has all the technology a Warband could want to blow their audience's minds... a...

The World What remains of Qliphoth is a roughly circular landmass surrounded by an ever-churning sea of misty-choked seas. Several jagged islands exist off of the coast, though most are uninhabited save by vicious, strange horrors. In the center of the land exists a massive crater with the ruins of the Harmonic Choir’s citadel, now called the Unhallowed Bowl. Set equidistant across this ring of land are the five Primordial Fonts. They just so happen to form the five points of a pentagram if one were to draw direct lines between each. Go figure. The land between one font to another is defined by the two elements represented by the two fonts. Thus, the equidistant point starts with a balance between the two elements with the strength of either increasing the closer one gets to that font. As the Warbands successfully tour, however, their Patron’s elemental influence grows. Once a Warband completes a full tour circuit, they will have gathered all the power they can and can assault the Un...

Elder Krewe, the Font of Flame Instrument: Vocals Appearance: Coal black skin is riddled with tattoo-like veins of cinders smoldering along the surface. He sports a soul patch of bright red and shoulder length hair to match. Wears a top hat with an orange band, sleeveless vest with no undershirt, the strings made from guitar wire that sizzle and spark off of his chest. Wears full gauntlets up to spaulders that glow with constant heat. Has studded, spiked bracelets and belts. Half-plate pants and boots that are also forever heated. Positive Aspects: Freedom and Art Negative Aspects: Overindulgence and Self-Destruction Venues: Singe Theater (Stadium), Saint of Hells (Outdoor), Inferno (Dive Bar) Fame: Signed (level 1) - The Warband receives 4 fire fiends to serve as roadies. Opening Band (level 2) - Each Warband member gains protection from fire damage. Headliner (level 3) - The Warband receives a fire elemental as an additional roadie. Each Warband member can spi...

Jak Rhyme, the Font of Frost Instrument: Guitar Appearance: Eternally shirtless, cut like a diamond. Jak’s sigil refracts from the center of his translucent chest. He wears tight leather pants held on by a network of studded leather belts adorned with animal pelts. Fur boots cover his feet. Wears a classic viking full-helm with curved horns. A snow-white, braided beard dangles from the helm and frosty eyes glow within. Carries a bone-white guitar with a screaming face, fog billows from its mouth. Positive Aspects: Order and Fortitude Negative Aspects: Eternal Winter and Starvation Venues: The Tundradome (Stadium), The Blasted Hearth (Outdoor), The Longest Ship (Dive Bar) Fame: Signed (level 1) - The Warband receives 4 ice fiends to serve as roadies. Opening Band (level 2) - Warband members just don’t get cold. Headliner (level 3) - The Warband receives 2 ice golems as additional roadies. Each Warband member can throw ice lances. Hell yeah. Superstars (level 4)...

Liege Lenore, the Font of Rust Instrument: Bass Guitar Appearance: Curvy, but rust colored, 80’s fembot. Has a human like lower face, featureless upper face that is riddled with holes, some of which have corroded to join together like a rusted grate with a burn mark of her symbol. Wears a head dress of grey feathers and bones, a low slung t-shirt constantly off one shoulder and showing cleavage, a belt of corroded skulls and feathers with loincloth that goes down to her ankles on both sides. Bare hips. Knee-high armored leather boots. Her base guitar has no front, full of ever churning gears and cogs made of bone and rusted steel. Positive Aspects: Invention and Ingenuity Negative Aspects: Mechanized Life and Decay Venues: The Cold Forge (Stadium), The Hulk (Outdoor), The Chain Link (Dive Bar) Fame: Signed (level 1) - The Warband receives 4 clockwork zombies to serve as roadies. Opening Band (level 2) - Each Warband member gains some protection against poison. H...

Lord Blackbourne, the Font of Blood Instrument: Guitar Appearance: White face with blood streaks from the eyes and on the chin, male. Usually goes shirtless with chiseled muscles, and ever-changing tattoos that sear up from his veins, save his symbol on both shoulders. Jeans, many spiked belts covered in hooks that drip blood. Jeans and boots where the front has been scrapped off until ruddy steel shows through. Has claws that he uses as picks. Carries a blood-red guitar with a screaming face where the white streaks on it match the red streaks on his face. Positive Aspects: Primal Nature and Passion Negative Aspects: Savagery and Sacrifice Venues: The Vein Glory (Stadium), The Preserve (Outdoor), The Red Rum Runner (Dive Bar) Fame: Signed (level 1) - The Warband receives 4 blood imps to serve as roadies. Opening Band (level 2) - Each Warband member learns how to savage foes. Headliner (level 3) - The Warband receives 2 blood devils as additional roadies. Warband ...

Lore24 Post for 1/2/24 Defeated by the Lost Lord, the Primordials are the first five creatures to come into existence as nothingness churning with chaos. Battered into slumber and imprisoned the the World Song, each Primordial seeks to seize the abandoned reins of creation as their own and forge a new reality as they see fit using their bard-filled warbands. Each knows their siblings plan to do the same and will stop at nothing to come out on top. Why not work together and compromise? Because fuck them, that’s why. Lady Fairus, the Font of Bones Instrument: Drums Appearance: Bald woman with tight, gray skin hugging tight to her thin body, some bone showing through. Wears a leather greatcoat with many buckles, big brass buttons, and spiked studs. Tall biker boots with bones on side, leather pants, and a ripped t-shirt over her bust. Her symbol is branded onto her stomach. Still sexy despite her corpse like manner. Carries bone drumsticks, likes to beat them against things. Posi...

There was once a gambler who was tossed out one too many times by a particular innkeeper and decided to get revenge. How said gambler got this particular mimic runt and taught it take the shape of a bottle? They're not telling. However, it sprang the perfect trap on that damn innkeeper and several of the barflies who tried to help. The gambler also won't divulge how he taught the mimic to fire endless corks with the force of halfling sling stones or why so many of the bottles around town became these monstrosities within a year. Fifth Mimic Tiny Monstrosity (shapechanger), neutral Armor Class 14 (natural armor) Hit Points 49 (9d4 + 27) Speed 15 ft Str 13 Dex 16 Con 16 Int 5 Wis 13 Cha 12 Skills Stealth +7 Damage Immunities acid Condition Immunities prone Senses darkvision 60 ft, passive Perception 11 Languages - Challenge 2 (450 XP) Shapechange...

Lore24 Post for 1/1/24 Creation had a name once before The Wound erupted, but it is now all but forgotten. It only crosses lips on the whispers of the demented or in the final breaths of the elderly. Qliphoth. What use is it remembering a land that never will be again, lamenting what can never be regained? There is only The Wound and the promise of many worlds that may arise from its hemorrhaging. History died at the hands and by the voice, of the Virtuoso Hifistus Krull . As the head of the so-called Harmonic Choir , Krull - like all Virtuoso- was said to be without malice or flaw. His music soothed the suffering, bestowed hope to the desperate, and saved the damned. In truth, the Choir had raped the forgotten world for every coin, jewel, and pleasure it could for centuries. Hifistus’ heart was empty, his mind obsessed with nihilistic oblivion. Entrusted with the World Song and the powerful army of zealots he swept across the land under the pretense of purification. In truth,...