Gorbelization

Fiend Folio – Tome of Frequent Rants and Much-Maligned

During the past almost-forty years, I’ve learned that I’m not exactly the typical D&D user.

I’ve never DMed a module. I’ve never set an adventure in another setting besides my own. Every book or supplement I own is used as reference. Sometimes, as a source of inspiration. So many players like to say “Make the game your own,” or, “The rules are just guidelines.” Agreed. But, I tend to take those observations very much more to heart than most.

So many of the monster entries in the Fiend Folio really suck. Sure. I can say the same for the Monster Manual II. Hell – I can bust on quite a few of the original Monster Manual entries as well. But, what is the point? So many of these monsters were created for use in a very specific fantasy game environment. If you’re playing a game where much of the action takes place in a grossly unrealistic “dungeon” environment, then why disparage monsters created to complement that environment? That might be another blog entry entirely. I’m here to talk about the damn Gorbel.

In Avremier, some kobold tribes found deep underground cultivate fungus as a food staple. One in particular is a big, reddish, globular specimen that grows from a pair of extremely tough stalks. The pinkish flesh inside makes for a delightful meal. In time, the fungus passes through the more viable stage of its life cycle, and is no longer edible. The outer skin grows thick and leathery – or rubbery. The reddish hue becomes more pronounced, almost as a visible warning. Rhizome stalks sprout along the upper circumference of the spherical body. An aperture opens near the bottom to slowly release spores that have built up within. The inside of the fungus fills with a spore-laden gas that can cause vivid and pleasant hallucinations when inhaled. Some kobolds like to climb inside, curl up snugly, and take a relaxing little hallucinogenic “trip.” Sometimes, the “trip” goes bad and the kobold tears off on a brief and addled rampage. This is known as “going gorbel.”

So – the Gorbel in Avremier is an LSD-tripping kobold in a crazy leather mushroom suit. Much less ridiculous than the original, I know.

The kobold wakes up from its hallucinogenic reverie and tries to act out something it sees in a lucid dream. The kobold’s little legs and feet find their way into the twin stalks of the fungus – which break off, and it’s off to the races! Hopped-up on goofy-gas, the kobold is immune to blunt damage – like impacts and falls, which it just bounces back from and then goes off on its merry way. The kobold’s arms have nowhere to go. They stay inside. So, all damage inflicted by the gorbeling kobold is through the jagged stem-feet. Piercing the fungus causes it to burst outward – leaving the kobold inside a calm epicenter, totally unharmed and wearing a great big smile.

Some kobold tribes send gorbeling kobolds out into battle as somewhat unreliable, but surprisingly effective, shock troops. And, yes – the Gorbel is related to the Gas Spore, which is related to the Beholder (in Avremier). All those creatures are fungus-based (in Avremier).

Fragmentation Parade

Sometime around 1982: The Moldvay Basic Set of D&D comes into my possession. Work on what would eventually become the Avremier Campaign Setting begins almost immediately.

Late-90s: I wanna do a funny campaign setting or game. My mind obsesses over the idea of what would become Duckin’ & Braggin’. Sword & Farcery becomes a genre for my project development.

Y2K: With the release of the D20 3E rule set, I set aside my long-running D&D campaign to try my hand at a new setting – Pelagena. Due to – reasons, the game falls apart and Pelagena is mothballed, but eventually becomes integrated into Avremier as select bits and pieces.

Circa 2004: Development begins on a new setting called Avremier. While this one eventually falls through, many of the core concepts, along with the name, are retained for the project going forward.

Sometime between 2004 and 2010: Taking my notes for regions of Avremier that never saw use, I set aside these areas for future consideration. They never seem right for inclusion in the “final” incarnation of the “official” Avremier setting. Thus, they languish in development Limbo.

2008: D&D 4E is released and I swear off the brand entirely. I have enough books and materials to keep me going for the rest of my life. Not long after, Pathfinder rears its shiny new head.

Circa 2010: I embrace Pathfinder as my rule set of choice. An attempt to compile and edit Avremier to share, using Pathfinder rules, is launched – to frustrating failure. Too crunchy for me at the time. Still too crunchy for me today. I'm also trying to be an author.

Not long after 2010: In a fit of depression, I dive back into development of Duckin’ & Braggin’. It seems easier and more fun. At least, less frustrating. I am wrong, as the focus and direction for the project still eludes me. Back to Avremier.

2012: This is a hazy period for me. I lose my mind entirely and decide to go back to formula. I started with the BX rules, so that’s where I should start. Right? Nope. I go back even further…no – further still. I manage to acquire copies of all the original booklets from 1974-1976. Naturally, Wizbro decides to release a retro set of booklets in 2013. Screw it – I get that too. I never played this edition of the game, but I’m gonna learn it. I am now a historian. I wanna know where it all came from.

Early 2015: D&D 5E is released. I decide to give it a chance. It isn’t bad. But, I’m already in the throes of a nostalgic fit. I set 5E aside for now.

2016: Start of the Avremier Project. I want some nifty little booklets of my own setting – for myself. I want to see if I can write, compile, edit, layout, illustrate, print, and publish these things all by myself. I’m neck-deep in madness now.

2018: It’s done. Avremier is a thing. Mothshade Concepts is a fledgling thing. My mind implodes and I descend to new subterranean dungeon levels of insanity.

2019: What have I done?! Well, whatever it is, I need to figure out how to make it work. I need to become Mothshade Concepts. But, there are SO MANY projects. I’ve devoted my mind, body, and soul to Avremier these past few years and it’s taking a toll. Oh, look – Duckin’ & Braggin’! Wait – I’ve finally figured out just how I want to approach developing D&B! Buuuuuuut…I have a few ideas for some entirely new D&D campaign settings. Remember those early, unused regions of Avremier I set aside – yeah, me too. Now I have RedStaff, Grayharrow, and Violet Grimoire to contend with. New stuff to develop! My brain loves that! I’m doomed.

Getting to Know - the Lords of the Crypt

The Abronti: For generations, a family of wealth and influence, with an ancestry tainted by bloodborne illness and dramatic madness. Through the years, the more troublesome members would find themselves spirited off to distant monasteries, undertaking extended expeditions, or admitted to quiet sanitariums. Eventually, the family name was overtaken by tragedy and illness – passing entirely with the demise of the unmarried and childless Cauvage Abronti. With no legal heirs, the bulk of the remaining family fortune passed into trust with an organization known as the Vault Foundation. In time, out of respect for its greatest benefactor, the organization became the Abronti Trust. The exact details of the setup and administration of this venture are very complicated.

Dark Inquest: With the Abronti family extinct, and no one to protest the instigation of questionable legal proceedings, the opportunists and scavengers came out from beneath various rocks to lay their dubious claims. For the better part of two years, the legal representatives of the departed Abronti family held the line against every covetous siege. Then, the departed family elders, led by Cauvage Abronti, stepped forward into the light to reclaim their own. To their credit, the Abronti elders had arranged for a letter of introduction to be delivered to the office of their solicitor before making their reappearance. At the time, the letter was thought to have been a joke in poor taste.

Vault Cabal: The Abrontis were dead to begin with. Yet, in death, their wealth and influence had only grown. Through the loyal diligence and faithful competence of servants, representatives, caretakers, employees, and officials, the Abronti family had quietly carried on. Debts were paid, properties maintained, investments managed, and secrets kept. So many secrets. One of which, apparently, being that of immortality – of a sort. For the Abrontis were most certainly dead. Of this there was no doubt. And the dead could not lay claim to the property and title of the living. Well, not until passage of the Open Crypt Act of 332. Pretty impressive what money, influence, and careful estate planning can accomplish.

The Crypt: Much of this backstory and setting detail came about while pondering the nature and purpose of the Crypt Thing. While I understand a lot of the complaints about the Fiend Folio, it was an exciting surprise on the shelf of my local B. Dalton bookseller. Nothing against the life-altering work of Gary Gygax, but I was ready for something different after the Monster Manual. Let’s face it – more than half the entries in that book weren’t exactly unknown to a kid versed in fantasy and mythology. More often than not, the fiends within this folio were new to me. Even then, I was getting a feel for the artists of the day. Opening the Fiend Folio those first few times, I was welcomed by a few familiar favorites. Of course, there were tons of illustrations jarring to my untrained eye. In short, I didn’t like a lot of them. Many failed to capture or inspire my imagination. One that succeeded more than admirably was found on page 21, under the entry of Crypt Thing. Not the simple mug shot next to the stat block – the glorious portrait at the center of the second column.

The Thing: I know I’ve said it before, but that Russ Nicholson illustration of the Crypt Thing and…lone adventurer that made his saving throw? Bodyguard? Master? Admirer? Cultist? I didn’t know – but it got me thinking. Could the Crypt Thing be part of something greater? Something besides a creepy dungeon inconvenience? I mean, they weren’t undead – and they were implied to take some sort of perverse pleasure in messing with hapless adventurers. Yet, it had a Neutral alignment. No chaotic whim. No inherent malice. Though skeletal, there was no indication of unlife. No mention of the usual immunities given to animated dead things (well, it could only be hit be magical weapons – but that’s true of a lot of critters). No claim to construct status. Was I supposed to assume this creature was somehow alive?

The Spark: I’ve seen a lot of unfavorable Fiend Folio reviews. And, yes – I get it. Now, I’m not going to say that all those naysayers have limited imaginations…but –

Personally, I don’t really use many of the Fiend Folio entries with their Fiend Factory settings. For me, they are sources of inspiration more than immutable stat blocks and static flavor text to be cut-and-pasted right into my setting. But then, I’m the guy that finds all the countless Demon and Devil entries in both Monster Manuals to be kind of tedious and a bit of a waste of space – especially in the MM2. I wasn’t disturbed by Demons and Devils in my RPG in the 80s – I was bored by them. But, that’s another blog entry entirely.

The Crypt Thing. Not undead. Well, even back then we pretty much ignored that bit. We just figured it couldn’t be turned as long as it sat in its chair as a guardian. That was it’s only purpose, after all. Roger Musson’s written description implied a few options and left some intriguing wiggle room. 100% chance to be encountered In Lair (“at least, none have been encountered elsewhere”). Oh, Roger – you delightful tease. The Crypt Thing may speak – and it will lie! Those companions of yours that vanished – they were destroyed. You wanna be next? You feeling lucky? Not all Crypt Things even teleport their victims – we have “aberrant” versions that paralyze and invisibilize them instead. Variant monsters mentioned right in the description of the original monster entry. That was my jam!

Variance: Did I call the Crypt Thing a guardian before? Oops. That was presumptuous of me. The Fiend Folio entry never mentions that. It has a lair – we presumed it had to be guarding something. Honestly, I’ve used the Thing as nothing more than a nuisance encounter at the end of a dead-end passage. But, I do have a tendency to modify and adapt monsters for my own setting. Now, the original entry never specifies that the Thing is not undead – it just never mentions that it is. I mean – it’s a robed skeleton. Okay – “A pale, solitary skeletal being…” Come on. Pale? Sure – bones tend to be kind of pale. Skeletal? Like – skeletally thin? Nope. Doesn’t even have eyes in its empty sockets, according to both illustrations.

Second Coming: 2E AD&D gave us the updated Crypt Thing in the Monstrous Manual – instituting some of our assumptions and alterations in the process. Oh, and a much less interesting illustration. If this had been my introduction to the monster, I doubt I’d be writing all this nonsense today. Still, this later entry clarified the undead status of the Crypt Thing. It gave us a bit of an origin and purpose: raised or created by spell to protect the bodies of those laid to rest. We also get verification that it cannot be turned in its own lair. The range of clothing choices increases from only brown robes to a more fashionable black. Oh – and the eye sockets gleam with nifty red pinpoints of light. Doesn’t really do much for me. 2E AD&D didn’t inspire me much more than 1E, to be honest. I usually preferred my own embellishments and adaptations.

Clothes Maketh the Thing: Brown robes. Black robes. I’d been considering the robes long before the Monstrous Manual came into my grasp. My campaign had introduced a villain shrouded in a voluminous cloak of woven spiderweb. The cloak was a powerful artifact that gave the villain much of his necromantic power. Well – that’s what the players believed. Truthfully, the villain wore what looked like a spider earring – and this was the actual villain. An alien spider that wove a cloak and controlled the mind of its victim to further its own goals while no one suspected the innocuous piece of jewelry hidden within the hood of the cloak. Also, I really liked the monster known as the Cloaker. These potential details generated the idea of making the Crypt Thing’s robes the actual monster, instead of the skeleton.

Cryptic Things: The Crypt Thing is among the least of an undead society resulting from the explorations and machinations of the Abronti elders. Robed in unassuming brown, these creatures form a base caste of servitor undead. Common belief places the members of the inner circle of the original cabal in the roles of Crypt Dooms, the most powerful of these creatures and the keepers of the bindings over all the rest. The society of the crypt is centered on arcane bindings and control of the shadowy unlife of its members. Robed in gray, the Crypt Warder oversees and maintains the Crypt Things. The black-robed Crypt Doom holds the source and sharing of the animating power behind the Crypt Things and the rest. The Abronti elders themselves wear robes of deepest violet and are known as Crypt Lords.

Things to Do: With an established hierarchy of status and power, the Abronti organization could focus on their important goals. At the top of the list was immortality, followed closely by gaining power enough to maintain that immortality indefinitely.

There is much more to explore - including the secret journey of the Abronti elders from death to undeath, the true nature of the Crypt Thing (and the others), and specific stats/details of each creature type. These revelations (and more) will be compiled and shared.