vestigemods | monster compendium for the tdm

monster compendium for the tdm

monsters for the first test drive within the comments

THE CHILD'S DRAWING lies on the floor, of all places. A small handful of crayons in varying colors and sizes are strewn around one side of the paper, a few rolling as far as the wall six inches away. The picture itself is the handiwork of someone who hasn't quite reached the double-digits, and it depicts some sort of... unusual creature. Is that a bat? It has ears like a bat... But it could be a dragon just as easily.

Don't spend too long trying to figure it out, though. Otherwise you might miss the faint sounds of sharp claws on wood from the floor above... But either way, your return upstairs is greeted by what seems to be an empty room and a wide open front door. Has freedom fallen into your laps? Not quite yet. As soon as someone crosses through the center of the room, THE DRAGON-BAT drops down from his perch in the rafters with every intent of landing atop them. Standing as tall as a full-grown man, this creature is all muscle, wings, and razor claws. His jaws part three ways, and combined they have a closing strength to put a gator to shame.

The dragon-bat has no real tricks up his sleeve, which is both a blessing and a form of curse. It fights purely through physical assault, through clawed gashes and harsh bites from its three-part jaws, or even simply through sheer force of strength - after all, at the dragon-bat's size, landing square on the average human's chest could easily crush their ribs into their vital organs beneath. Not only that, but nearly every part of the dragon-bat has some form of cutting edge, more to elicit unexpected pain and subsequent retreat than to truly injure. The boned 'fingers' in its membraned wings, the length of its tail, the sides of its face, and even a thin layer under the fur along its torso all have fierce barbs for that exact reason. One thing's for certain: No one will come away from this fight without losing a little blood. Perhaps the most dangerous thing about the dragon-bat, however, is its intelligence. That open door? It opened that. Using the knob. It also appears capable of strategy in combat, and of watching a target closely for any weaknesses they might display.

As for taking the dragon-bat down, it's equally straightforward. Simply kill it until it dies. Much like any normal creature, it has a brain and a set of vital organs that disable or kill it if stabbed or bashed, though it knows as much and aims to protect them. The wings as well are a good target: If you can manage to put a few gashes into its wings, that will keep it firmly on the ground and eliminate many of its routes of potential retreat. Ultimately, just put in work and the dragon-bat will go down at some point. Let's hope our cabinmates can avoid getting slaughtered in the meantime.

THE BLUE HOSPITAL MASK can be found resting on a table nearest the stairs. Unfortunately for anyone who may have thought to use it upon discovery, it's been sitting face-down for quite a while, leaving the side through which you breathe entirely exposed to gathering dust. Unfortunate, really. It could've come in handy navigating a basement like this, with any little movement stirring up a fresh cloud of dust.

Before too long, though, they'll hear a sharp businesslike knock at the front door, almost as if whoever has arrived intends to wait for the door to be answered. Unfortunately, this doesn't quite hold true. Just as our heroes are making tracks back up the stairs, THE DOCTORS open the unanswered door and stride purposefully into the room. All four come dressed more for butchering than surgery, in long-sleeved white scrubs but not without a creamy-white apron over the top - all of which are splattered with long-dried blood by now. Each have a distinctly medical mask covering much of their lower face, three white and one the lightest blue. They wear surgeons' caps, the edges of which are stitched firmly to the skin above their eyebrows, as are the masks to the skin along their cheeks and chins. Or to whatever they have in place of skin, as the case may be... It seems like the exposed stretch between the cap and the masks is skinless altogether, instead displaying reddened exposed flesh. Flesh that doesn't look the slightest bit healthy, to boot. Their gloveless hands are much the same, though it doesn't seem to cause them any of the discomfort you might expect from bare flesh. And while their eyes are stitched closed, they act as if they can see with no trouble. They don't speak... They let their work do all the speaking for them.

The Doctors are much less openly hostile than many of the other horrors to be encountered here in the cabin. In fact, their approach seems strictly clinical, as if their actions are simply in the name of scientific intrigue... Or worse yet, just a routine part of their day. Don't let this take you off-guard, however, because what they lack in hostility they make up for in cold lethality. Armed with a host of medical tools as well as an assortment of syringes filled with temporary paralytics that do little if anything to numb any pain. Their aims are simple: They really just want to make the red come out. Clean cuts and playing with internal organs are the name of the game here. In fact, if given the opportunity, it's very possible that they might methodically slice someone open at various vital locations, poke around inside, then sew them back up with the same rough stitching that sews their own caps and masks to their heads. Save for self-defense, they tend not to come at you with anything sharp until they've at the very least got a couple of fellow Doctors holding you steady. After all, clumsy slices are useless, and as medical professionals, they hold themselves to higher standards than that. If possible, they'd like to strap our poor delinquents down on a table or some other form of surface, but that's most definitely something to avoid if you can. After all, that's when the true surgery begins.

They're a serious pain to take down. Much of the damage you could inflict on them with anything sharp just has them backing off to stitch the wound back together, whether it would've been fatal on a regular human or not. They're also pretty handy with both their scalpels and their syringes, more than willing to let a blade sink into their chest in exchange for an opening to sink a needle into your neck and render you paralyzed beyond the sluggish movement of your fingers and head. Alternatively, someone who gives them repeated blade-oriented trouble might go to stab and receive a quick slice to the tendons under the wrist to eliminate the threat from that point onward. You... may want to wrap that wound. The longer it bleeds, the more lightheaded you'll be. In order to take them down, you need to either remove or severely damage their head. A little bit of brain damage ain't gonna cut it. In fact, it might make them a little more haphazard with their surgery of choice...

THE BUZZSAW BLADE lies flat on a table, the corner tucked just barely under a heavy cardboard box. As dusty as this basement is, you'd think it might be easy to miss the thin metal piece, but it seems to draw the eye somehow regardless. Possibly due to its size - the blade is nearly a foot in diameter, and though it shows clear signs of use and wear, the edges are still sharp enough to slice with the barest touch. Be careful not to cut yourself! In a minute, something else will arrive to take care of that for you.

The harsh buzz of a saw heralds the arrival of their first uninvited guest, slicing through the heavy wooden door like butter and cutting it clean off the hinges besides simply into pieces. Those pieces fall to the ground, and in comes the MECHA SCORPION. Though it seems to be made entirely of metal and gears, the mecha scorpion responds just as intelligently as a sentient monster would. This monstrosity is chest-height at the shoulder and yellow in color, warning-tape yellow in fact, with four fast pneumatic legs and four arms; two small ones in front and two long ones in back armed with loud, squealing buzz-saws.

And boy, this is one mech that you really don't want to tangle with. The buzzsaw blades themselves can reach as far as six feet in any direction, and the smaller arms are capable of shooting out a pair of grappling hooks to snag and drag humans closer to the robot, allowing it to deliver a killing blow at close range. It watches everyone simultaneously with keen, almost intelligent orbital cams, and whatever processor this fine piece of machinery is running on, it's quick as hell - this mech reacts to any given movement almost before the movement is made. It's capable of navigating up to 25 MPH on any surface, even the walls or ceiling, and it will strategically single out one victim at a time to hunt them mercilessly until they die - but oddly enough, it doesn't seem inclined to actually kill anyone right now. More like 'maim them until they can't move.'

Taking the mecha scorpion down is not easy. While it's made entirely from everyday metals and alloys, it's oftentimes too quick to allow you to land a blow. Let's not forget the self-repair mechanism, in which it gives the poor cabin-goers a 2.5-minute respite in order to locate a safe niche and self-repair in order to attack again anew. But wait... Why does it need to hide? Therein lies the secret to taking the mecha scorpion down. When it self-repairs, a panel on its back slides aside and four thin, nimble bot arms extend to perform the repairs to the necessary area. If the mech is cornered and has no means to properly retreat without sustaining further damage, it will attempt to self-repair in the middle of combat, and though it takes extra care to protect the repair panel from harm, it's possible (albeit potentially suicidal) to get close enough to jam something sharp and sturdy into the exposed section of back. This not only disables the self-repair mechanism... It also destroys all sense of self-preservation whatsoever. From that point onward, the mecha scorpion does nothing but attack. No evasive maneuvers, no intelligence to speak of, and from there it should be much easier to take down.

THE MUSIC BOX sits on a dusty vanity against one wall, a faded but eye-catching yellow. Open it up, and a ballerina springs upright to twirl gracefully to a soothing melody. Perhaps you finish the song, letting it play through to the end. Perhaps you interrupt it, closing the music box early to set it aside.

Either way, your mistake has already been set into stone.

Return upstairs, and you'll find that a ballerina troupe has invaded the cabin's living room. A number of preteen girls in polished buns and simple but elegant tutus stand poised en pointe all facing away from the basement door. As if to music only they can hear (perhaps to the music box's tune?), the raise their arms elegantly above their heads, turning on tiny tiptoed steps to reveal a gaping tooth-filled hole where each of their faces should be.

These are THE SUGAR-PLUM FAIRIES, and dance is their life. Well - dance and also consuming your flesh and blood. Can you blame them? They're growing girls, they have strong nutritional needs! And lamprey-mouths, which they have every intention of using to extract their mid-performance snack from you and/or your friends or acquaintances.

The Sugar-Plum Fairies rely on speed and numbers, able to move with abnormal agility and jump much farther than the average person. Their general strategy appears to be to dance until they've surrounded you, then a Fairy not actively under observation will leap forward to try to latch her mouth onto some part of your body. And make no mistake, this mouth is strong - it will bite right through clothing to sink teeth into flesh, then use a trio of razor-tipped tongues to cut away any clothing that might lie in her way. If you haven't removed her by then, she'll be doing the same to your flesh, slicing off pieces with those very tongues to swallow them whole and drinking any available blood in the process. If a Sugar-Plum Fairy has latched onto your friend, however, it's best not to let that distract you. That moment of distraction is when the next Fairy will strike, attempting to latch onto you now as well.

The Sugar-Plum Fairies are significantly more durable than regular humans, and are more than capable of dancing and attacking with open wounds or even broken bones... But they're still capable of being taken down by the typical go-to means (through the head, through the heart, and slitting the throat). You may want to plan to kill them all in fairly quick succession, though - once one has died, the rest begin to shriek a shrill, ear-piercing sound that only furious preteen girls can truly perfect. Dancing all the while, of course. The show must go on!

THE URN sits on top of a stack of framed photos, as if the entire contents of the upstairs mantelpiece have been moved to this forlorn basement shelf. It's tilted a bit precariously, at no risk of spilling with with how firmly the lid seems glued into place, but at definite risk of toppling and shattering on the floor. Once you notice it, it's hard to resist reaching out to try to straighten the pile or to set the urn somewhere safer.

But of course, no good deed goes unpunished.

At first, it sounds like a fierce sort of wind has picked up, whistling outside and even through the cracks in the cabin above. A chill settles over the basement, perhaps sending your thoughts to the fireplace upstairs. What better place to wait out some sort of storm, right? But it quickly becomes apparent that this is no storm, and that the whistling is no mere wind, as that very sound picks up into a low and lasting shriek with no apparent end in sight. If you follow the sound back upstairs, you'll find THE WRAITH, appearing only as a skeletal face swirling amidst a thick cloud of what looks like fog. It's even colder here than it was in the basement, your breath visible in the air in front of you, and it seems to originate from this spectral entity in front of you. On the plus side, the wraith seems to have stopped screaming. But that is, unfortunately, the only plus side.

The wraith's primary objective is to leech the life from a human and into itself in order to give itself corporeal form. It does so by swooping in close and inhaling the life from its target, then swooping away again the moment it feels it may be in danger. While it only really needs the equivalent of one full human life to corporealize and can reasonably take that from more than one person and leave each victim more-or-less alive, the wraith places no value on human life and will (if possible) continue to harass the same victim repeatedly by virtue of being the weaker target. Victims of the wraith will find that their body grows more and more fatigued while their mind and emotions grow more and more dulled.

Once the wraith gains corporeal form, it actually weakens significantly. The skeletal face disappears back into the fog, and the fog clears away to reveal... a normal human being, pale and overly thin. This human will rush to the kitchen to grab the nearest knife and attempt to make its way to the front door to escape, knife wielding in threat. If allowed, the wraith-turned-man will open the door (wasn't that locked?) and disappear off into the night... Taking you or your companion's life force along with it.

The wraith can't be killed through physical means, at least not in its spectral form, and supernatural combat from those who are skilled in fighting ghosts will find that their techniques do work, but not as well as they might hope. By far the simplest way to kill the wraith is to allow it to gain corporeal form and kill it in its brand new fragile body, though by then it has posed all the threat it seems ready to pose. Those who do kill the wraith-turned-human before it escapes find their life force rushing back into their bodies, invigorating them. Those who let the lanky knife man escape must begin the slow and grueling process of recovering on their own - and it might very well take days before they stop feeling at least a little bit weak and hollow inside.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

monster compendium for the tdm

the dragon-bat.

the doctors.

the mecha scorpion.

the sugarplum fairies.

the wraith.