A-Z Blogging challenge

Y is for Yghe

Yghe

No. Enc.: 1 (1)

Alignment: Lawful
Movement: 60' (20')
Armor Class: 7
Hit Dice: 3
Attacks: 1 (ray)
Damage: see below
Save: F6
Morale: 12
Hoard Class: XI
XP: 112

Yghe are magickal creatures, summoned by powerful wizards to act as guardians of particularly important locations or valuable items. The Yghe resembles a human eyeball, four feet across, which floats silently in the air. These aetherial protectors require neither sustenance nor rest, making them ideally suited to watch over their master’s prized possessions, especially in places where other beings could not. Sealed tombs or pocket dimensions rank among the most likely places an unfortunate adventurer could run into an Yghe.

The Yghe will never attack of itself; instead it only moves itself to bar passage or access to those who have not spoken the correct command word. Trying to sneak past the Yghe regardless, attacking it, or speaking the wrong password will however cause the Yghe to retaliate. A think purple ray then shoots from its pupil to the offender, causing instantaneous death in most cases. The target is allowed a saving throw versus death as per the disintegrate spell. On death, an Yghe will noiselessly implode, leaving behind a number of gemstones which were used by its master in the creature’s creation.

A-Z Blogging challenge

V is for Varks

Vark

No. Enc.: 1d4 (3d8)

Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 60' (20')
Armor Class: 5
Hit Dice: 2
Attacks: 1
Damage: 1d6, weapon
Save: F2
Morale: 7
Hoard Class: XX
XP: 42

Varks are a race of primitive humanoids, so called for their porcine features and animalistic behaviour. Varks stand about five feet tall, are covered from head to hoof with tough bristles and rugged fur, have a distinct pig-like snout and sport two long, curved tusks protruding from their mouths. Despite being herbivores, they are extremely territorial and aggressive, and will generally hunt down and kill any creature approaching the vicinity of their squalid camps. The more unfortunate ones are captured alive, thrown into the animal pens, awaiting their ultimate fate; either to serve as slaves or become sacrifices to the Varks' bestial gods, ritually slaughtered on their plain stone altars.

Varks live in small herds in the open plains and are generally sedentary. Their camps consists of little more than a few ramshackle wooden huts, held together by clay or rope. Most of the herd simply sleeps in the open air, huddled together for warmth or under some canvas, sheltered from the rain. The grassland surrounding the edifices is transformed into a field of mud in less than a week after a herd moves in. The Varks rip open the ground with their tusks looking for roots and tubers, and enjoy rolling around in the earth and mud. During hot weather they soak the ground with any water they have available, and the herd gathers together in one big mud bath, which is suspected to hold some ceremonial importance for the Varks as well.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Varks get along very well with some of the animals native to the land. Pigs and swine are a common sight in Vark camps, usually allowed to run wild. The animals are kept for their milk and hide (once they have died a natural death) and as pets. Vark men train fierce boar which are kept in a special pen, and the day a Vark gets his first boar is the day he is considered an adult member of the tribe and a warrior. The bond between a Vark and his boar can at times almost seem telepathic, as the two become more attuned the longer they live together (it is not unusual for a warrior to eat and sleep with his boar). Meeting a pack of Varks complete with trained hunting boars thus becomes a very dangerous prospect.

A-Z Blogging challenge

Q is for Qubit

Qubit

No. Enc.: 2 (1d4 pairs)

Alignment: Chaotic

Movement: 120' (40')

Armor Class: 7

Hit Dice: 1

Attacks: 1

Damage: 1d3, special

Save: F7

Morale: 11

Hoard Class: None

XP: 78

Qubits are extradimensional creatures, physically resembling enlarged human brains, floating through the air while pulsating with faint blue waves of energy. Though they do not seem to possess the capability of communicating directly with other species, they are presumed to be extremely intelligent. Qubits always travel in pairs, and both entities in a pair are linked by an aetherial bond. This bond allows the instantaneous sharing of thought and knowledge, provides the pair with the ability to switch positions among themselves by teleportation and creates a shared physical well-being and perception.

Qubits are extremely antagonistic, though they seldom outright kill sentient creatures. Rather, they are mostly interested in gaining knowledge from their victims, though this process may harm and sometimes even cause the death of weaker minds. When qubits encounter interesting targets, they shoot a focused ray of energy from their frontal lobes, which causes 1d3 damage to sentient beings. If the attack is successful, the target and the qubit become entangled. This entanglement breaks the preexisting bond between a pair of qubits; if possible the remaining qubit will try to form a new entanglement with another target. While the entanglement with the qubit lasts, the creature's and its target's mind are merged, and any damage done to one is received equally by the other. Other qubits will never attack a target that is entangled with another qubit, unless the latter continues to attack.

Once entangled, a qubit will start probing its target's brain, which takes 1d4+1 rounds to complete. At the beginning of the next round, the target may make an Intelligence roll to resist the intrusion. If successful, the target takes 1 point of damage per round of the qubit's probing, if unsuccessful the character suffers 1d3 damage per round instead. This lasts until the probing is finished or the recipient dies from critical brain hemorrhaging. Any character who succeeds in the Intelligence roll may additionally attempt to gain knowledge from the qubit or switch places with it.

When the qubit is finished, it will break the bond and either move on to its next target or retreat. Death of the linked partners ends the bond immediately. Otherwise, the bond is not limited by time or distance. Indeed, some entrepreneuring scholar occassionally attempts to capture a qubit and break its will, seeing the enormous possibilities the bond creates. It rarely ends well.

A-Z Blogging challenge

L is for Lepperchaun

Lepperchaun

No. Enc.: 1 (1d8)

Alignment: Chaotic

Movement: 60' (20')

Armor Class: 7

Hit Dice: 2

Attacks: 2 (claw, bite)

Damage: 1d3/1d3, disease

Save: F4

Morale: 4

Hoard Class: VI

XP: 38

Another of the perverse creations concocted by the dread mage Holmvay the Apothecary, the so-called Lepperchauns are the warped result of horrendous experiments and torture afflicted on his gnomish captives. Why they in particular have the unenviable honour of receiving the full brunt of the sadistic spite of the vile lich is uncertain, but the few fortunate ones to have escaped the dungeons of Castle Gygantex confirm this process is solely performed on gnomes.

After a lengthy period of torture, when their jailers deem them sufficiently crazed or mentally broken, the gnomes are taken from the cells to a level deeper down, where they are dipped in a slimy green cesspit for a minute or two. Those who survive the dipping come out radically changed: their skins a sickly green hue, covered with scabs and weeping boils teeming with virulent diseases, their faculties reduced to that of slavering, ferocious animals. The creatures are then returned to the surface and released into the wild, plagues and death following in their wake as they roam the countryside, always drawn towards civilization, perhaps because of their past lives half-remembered. After the sudden outbreak of an epidemic, it often occurs that one finds a Lepperchaun skulking around at night, swimming around in a well or soiling food supplies. As the creatures spread their maladies by touch, disposing of them is usually done by trapping the creature in an abandoned building and burning it to the ground.

Every time the Lepperchaun makes a successful attack, its target must make a save versus poison. If it fails, the character contracts a wasting disease, causing a painful death in 1d3 days. If it is successful, the character gets seriously ill and is bedridden for three weeks, after which period there is a 10% chance the character still succumbs to the malady. The spell cure disease will cure this infection.

A-Z Blogging challenge

I is for Iridessence

Iridessence

No. Enc.: 1 (1d4)
Alignment: Neutral

Movement: 90' (30')
Armor Class: 9

Hit Dice: 1d4

Attacks: confuse

Damage: None

Save: F8
Morale: 12
Hoard Class: None
XP: 9

Not considered a living creature in the conventional sense, the iridessence is assumed to be a complex manifestation of the Aether, an unintentional byproduct of advanced prismatic magicks. They are known to pop into existence with some regularity around magickal colleges, and generally treated more as a nuisance than as a real threat.

The iridessence has the outwardly appearance of a hovering, opaque bubble approximately 1 to 2 feet in diameter, imbued with a dull, shifting pattern of colors. The sphere is usually observed in a more-or-less stationary state, bobbing up and down slightly, until it is approached by a practitioner of the magickal arts or other manipulators of the Aether. In such an instance the colors of the iridessence will start glowingly vividly, the swirling patterns increase both in speed and intricacy, and the sphere suddenly lunges toward its target. Though the unfortunate recipient of its attraction never sustains any bodily harm, the display caused by the sphere eventually becomes so disorienting that soon any normal action might become impossible. The iridessence starts producing rays of blinding, prismatic light, spews forth chromatic orbs of energy and creates hindersome sprays of color. On a successful attack, its target is confused, which lasts until the iridessence is dispatched or loses sight of its target, and a save versus spells must be made; if the save is unsuccessful this indicates that the target is afflicted with blindness for 1d4 turns instead.

A-Z Blogging challenge

F is for Flagellan

Flagellan

No. Enc.: 1d6 (3d8)
Alignment: Neutral

Movement: 60' (20')
Armor Class: 8

Hit Dice: 1 hp
Attacks: 1 (stinger)
Damage: 1d4

Save: F1
Morale: 7
Hoard Class: None
XP: 8

Native to the unfathomable depths of the great lakes, Flagellans are marine creatures akin to jellyfish. Their bodies consist of a transparant semipermeable membrane, filled with fluid, by which they regulate the depth and speed of their swimming. Attached to four side of the body are long, lash-like appendages used for stinging and paralyzing their prey. Flagellans normally only hunt fish and absorb them into their bodies for sustenance, but when provoked or swimming in large schools they have been known to attack larger creatures, and even swimming humans. Their poison is quite damaging even to the latter. After a successful attack by a Flagellan its victim must make a saving throw vs paralyze, failure indicating the target is paralyzed for 1d4 turns. This will cause the target to start sinking to the bottom of the lake and drown, unless any (magickal) precautions have been taken to prevent this. Once a sufficiently large number of prey are disabled (2 to 3 humanoids for a large school of Flagellans) or the intruders are chased away from the creatures' breeding grounds, the Flagellans will break off their attack and feast on those they have incapacitated.

A-Z Blogging challenge

D is for Dracolyte

Dracolyte

No. Enc.: 1 (1d8)
Alignment: Any
Movement: 60' (20')
Armor Class: 3
Hit Dice: 4
Attacks: 2 (2 claws or weapon)
Damage: 1d6 or weapon
Save: F4
Morale: 11
Hoard Class: XII
XP: 460

Dragons are usually sought out for the fabulous riches they amass in their lairs, but not all their wealth comes in the form of gold or precious stones. On occasion some daring adventurers try to subdue one of these mighty wyrms, not to claim its possessions nor to slay the beast, but to learn the ancient secrets of the world and of eternal youth, which these creatures have learned during the long centuries and millennia of their immortal lives. Needless to say, few of them ever gain any valuable insights, as the cunning, age-old dragons do not take kindly to being coerced.

More successful are those, who instead offer a dragon their body, mind and life in service, in return for but a glimpse of the vast stores of knowledge the dragon has acquired. If the dragon deems them useful enough, he will accept the supplicant as one of his thralls. By ingesting a small portion of the dragon’s blood, a profound physical and mental transformation takes place. It creates a telepathic link between dragon and servitor, allowing two-way communication even far removed, as well as allowing the dragon to take over the body of the thrall completely if he so wishes. The skin of the dracolyte changes into a leathery epidermis, the bodily changes granting both improved endurance as well as an unnaturally long lifespan. Some of these changelings undergo even greater alterations (1d6: 1. Draconic head: can breath fire three times a day, 10’ cone dealing 3d6 damage; 2. Draconic wings: can fly 120’ (40’); 3. Draconic talons: deal 2d4 damage; 4. Draconic scales: AC of 0; 5. Draconic tail: gain third attack per round dealing 1d6 damage; 6. roll twice.)

In return for learning snippets of the dragon’s wisdom (a long process, as the wary dragons keep their most prized secrets to themselves), the thrall agrees to act as the eyes and ears of the dragon or his representative, in places where the dragon’s presence would be impossible. Due to their aberrant forms, the dracolyte usually travels in disguise, and rarely socializes but with others of his kind in his master’s lair.

A-Z Blogging challenge

C is for Centaurian

Centaurian

No. Enc.: 1d4 (1d8)
Alignment: Chaotic
Movement: 90' (30')
Armor Class: 7
Hit Dice: 2
Attacks: 1

Damage: 1d6

Save: F3

Morale: 7

Hoard Class: XX

XP: 80

 

Though the usual offspring of two centaurs consists of more centaurs, approximately one in a dozen of these births result in a different creature, called centaurians. Unlike the centaurs whom beget them, centaurians are bipedal, and considerably more animalistic in both form and conduct. Centaurians have the body of a man, but stand firm on the legs and hindquarters of a horse, as well as having an equine head, because of which they lack the ability of articulated speech. Unlike a normal horse ,these creatures have a voracious appetite for flesh.

Centaurians are shunned from centaur society, which in itself is hardly civilized. As centaurians can not bear living offspring, are aggressive and malicious, the birth of one is considered a bad omen. Some centaur herds kill these newborns immediately to ward of such misfortune; others clans dare not touch the creatures, for fear of being jinxed by their dark gods, as some centaur shamans claim centaurians are the demonic brood of Asval the Night Mare.

 

Among these latter groups it is then not unusual to have a small band of centaurians following in their wake, in the case of migratory herds, or living in close proximity of the herd if the centaurs are sedentary forest dwellers. Centaurians themselves always live in small teams, and are known to harass unwary travellers, playing devious cat-and-mouse games before eventually slaughtering those who have fallen into their hands.

A-Z Blogging challenge

B is for Behebot

Behebot

No. Enc.: 1 (1)
Alignment: Lawful, Chaotic
Movement: 120' (40')
Armor Class: 2
Hit Dice: 8
Attacks: 2 or 1 (1 fist, 1 stomp, or weapon)
Damage: 1d6+1/1d6+1 or 5d6
Save: F10
Morale: 12
Hoard Class: None
XP: 2,060

While groups of roaming Killbots are oft cited as the most dangerous Robotiks an adventurer can encounter, even these pale in comparison to the mighty Behebot. Standing 70 to 100 feet tall, these solitary engines of destruction can lay waste to huge swaths of the countryside before a large enough force can be mustered to end their dreadful rampage. Behebots vary greatly in outwardly appearance, though all of them vaguely resemble humanoids in general build. It must be noted that not all of them seem solely focused on causing mayhem and destruction however, and some Behebots prefer to live peacefully in the seclusion of large forests or mountain ranges.

Behebots are able to produce a powerful attack using an energy ray produced from their eyes, creating a beam 5’ wide and 100’ long. Anyone caught in the area of the attack may save vs breath attacks. Success indicates only half of the normal hit point damage is done. Behebots will try to use the energy ray as their first attack when they enter combat. The ray needs to recharge for 3 rounds before it can be fired again; during this time the Robotik will try to stomp or hit its assailants instead.

[LL] Grevlar & Bursugs

  Grevlar                  Bursug                 

No. Enc.:               1 (1d4)                    1 (3d10)
Alignment:             Neutral                   Chaotic
Movement:            120' (40')                15’ (5’)
Armor Class:         4                             9
Hit Dice:                 5                             1d4 hit points
Attacks:                  3 (2 claws, bite)    1 (acid spit)
Damage:              1d8/1d8/1d8           1d3
Save:                      F2                           0 level human
Morale:                  10                           4
Hoard Class:        VII                           XIV
XP:                         360                         10

Of the many dangerous creatures to have come through the portals that manifested during the Aether Storms, perhaps there is no tale as uniquely wondrous as that of the Grevlar and the Bursugs. Though both hail from quite different worlds, they have adopted a symbiotic relationship to better survive in their new environment. 

A Grevlar (plural Grevlar) is, simply put, a huge, lumbering beast. They are covered with coarse, dark fur over their broad, brawny bodies, and measure up to six feet in height (this however comes from their proclivity towards knuckle-walking, for when a Grevlar attacks, he stands upright on his hind paws as to maul his opponent with his lethal claws, and in this erect state easily reaches a height of no less than eight feet). For their enormous size, they have dark, beady eyes, which seems to suggest their vision is ill adapted to well-lit environs. Indeed, even during their nocturnal hunts they can be observed relying mainly on a keen sense of smell and their sharp hearing. Despite their hulking appearance however, Grevlar can suddenly achieve enormous speeds once they have caught the scent of their prey, making huge, bounding leaps on all four of their legs. A few other noteworthy characteristics of their physiology are: the absence of a tail; their razor sharp teeth indicative of their carnivorous feeding habits; and lastly a pouch-like skinfold located on their belly (the importance of which I shall divulge momentarily). Grevlar make their nesting grounds in deep, dark caves, where they live in small packs (generally 2 pairs or 1 male and up to three females). They only possess animal intellect and generally leave other creatures alone when they are not hunting.

Bursugs on the other hand are quite different. A Bursug is a purple slug-like creature, about a foot in length on average and covered in a slimy film, transparent green of colour, which it uses to move itself along the ground. It has two well developed eyes on protruding tentacles on top of its head. The creature also has a large acid-producing gland, which allows it to lob globules of acid at its foes, and makes it unfit for consumption by most predators. Surprisingly, Bursugs possess a ruthless, malicious cunning disproportionate to their size. Though they have no discernible capacity for speech, they seem to have the ability to establish a telepathic link with various kinds of animals, and one can often witness even the most aggressive creatures suddenly becoming docile around a Bursug.

This bond Bursugs have with other beings is best exemplified by their relationship with Grevlar. A Bursug can command a Grevlar to place it in the latter’s pouch, which provides the former with a safe and quick mode of transportation. Generally only the top of the head and the eyes of the Bursug stick out of the pouch, giving the Bursug an effective AC of 2. The Grevlar in turn begins to display very uncharacteristic behaviour, often travelling during day and attacking bands of travellers in search of valuable belongings (more on this later). Another sign that the two creatures are in some sort of mind link is evidenced when the Bursug is killed while in a Grevlar’s pouch. In such an event, the Grevlar seems overcome by an irrational frenzy lasting 2d4 rounds, during which it indiscriminately attacks friend and foe alike. After the frenzy ends, the Grevlar gets its bearings again and usually makes for its lair as quickly as it can, especially if it happens to be daytime. After a successful raid, the Grevlar will return the Bursug to its lair along with any spoils.

Bursugs live in small, damp lairs, located adjacent to a lake, small stream or in marshlands. The entrance to these lairs is exclusively located beneath the water’s edge and usually no more than two feet wide. A short tunnel leads to a single hollowed out room, where a single colony of about 3d10 Bursugs lives. A colony is led by a five feet long, three feet wide Bursug queen, generally of a green or yellow colour, and has 2 HD. The queen can generally be found gorging herself on platinum pieces, gemstones or valuable jewellery. It is speculated that the minerals therein are an indispensable part of her diet and needed to produce eggs, but can only readily be found in these commodities in this realm. The proximity of the lair to water seems another necessity, as Bursugs have yet to be encountered living in mines where such raw materials would be available to them.

[LL] Earthmen

Earthman

No. Enc.: 1 (3d8)
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 90' (30')

Meld: 210' (70')
Armor Class: 6
Hit Dice: 3
Attacks: 2 (claws or weapon)
Damage: 1d6 or weapon
Save: F3
Morale: 8
Hoard Class: XX
XP: 80

Only ever encountered in the large earthen tunnel complexes beneath the ancient woods in the east, the so-called Earthmen are primitive, tribal creatures, vaguely resembling humanoids in appearance. They consist however entirely of a thick, clayish substance and lack all external or internal organs, their faces featuring only rudimentary ears and noses, and gaping holes in lieu of eyes and mouths. They are seldom taller than five feet, and on average twice as bulky as a normal human, and always go unclad.

As far as they have been observed, they seem to possess basic intelligence, speech and a form of cultural development. Earthmen sometimes wield crudely crafted weapons, and their lairs are often decorated with chalk drawings, pieces of pottery and very plain jewellery, a recurring theme in which are the depiction of birds and the use of feathers, which seem to fascinate Earthmen greatly. Earthmen live in small tribes of up to two dozen individuals, and are extremely reclusive, never venturing out of their lairs. All Earthmen tribes have in common the belief in a being called Burachbaladuuv, or variations thereof, usually worshipped as a deity. According to their legends, Burachbaladuuv descended from the sky as a giant, resplendent peacock, and when he landed took on the form of a twelve feet tall humanoid. He then made the Earthmen in five times five days, and finally breathed life in them before once more taking to the skies.

Earthmen have the unique ability to meld nearly instantaneously with sand, earth, clay and such natural materials, and are able to travel great distances in this fashion. In battle, they take advantage of this ability by appearing behind or below their enemies in their narrow tunnels, or making their escape by walking through the earthen walls. Underground deposits of solid rock, water, dense roots and such will bar their way, though an opening as small as five inch will allow the Earthman to pass through. They are however mortally afraid of water, and will never cross streams to pursue their assailants.

[LL] Hollowgrams

Hollowgram

No. Enc.: 1d3 (1d6)
Alignment: Any
Movement: 90' (30')
Armor Class: 7
Hit Dice: 2
Attacks: 1
Damage: 1d2, weapon or special
Save: F2
Morale: 10
Hoard Class: None
XP: 75

Some of the more mysterious beings to have been spotted since the Aether Storms started to plague the land after the death of the emperor, these immaterial pseudo-humans can prove a considerable challenge for the unprepared adventurer.

The danger of the Hollowgram lies in the fact that it deceivingly looks (almost*) completely like a regular human, albeit usually dressed in very strange clothing. It is not until the Hollowgram is engaged in combat that its true nature is revealed: any and all attacks made by ordinary weapons pass right through them. Scholars have postulated that these beings are made purely out of Aetherium, which seems to corroborate what adventurers have thus far learned about them. Namely, Aetherium-imbued weapons (commonly known as magickal weapons), much sought-after blaster guns and other manipulations of the Aether, such as magickal spells, do indeed harm Hollowgrams.

The Hollowgrams themselves, on the other hand, do manage to inflict bodily harm on their enemies, using any weapons at their disposal (usually blaster guns or exotic bladed weapons) or resorting to fisticuffs. An unarmed Hollowgram may sometimes attempt a special attack: the Hollowgram shoves its immaterial hands upto its forearms into the body of its victim, there (it is speculated) materializes them and wreaks havoc on its enemy's vital organs, causing 1D8 points of damage. Such an attack is made a +4 to hit, due to the Hollowgram negating its target's defences for the greater part.
Hollowgrams are capable of walking through any known ordinary substance, though warding spells such as hold portal or anti-magic shell and force fields can be used to bar their way.

Upon death, the Hollowgram simply flashes out of existence, leaving none of its possessions behind, unless it was using a weapon native to this plane. Of course the risk of engaging them versus the prospect of no material gain is highly undesirable; wise adventurers thus learn to tell the difference between a Hollowgram and a real being, in order to avoid armed conflict with them.

*Some Hollowgrams have been observed to have pointed ears like Elves. Others have been noted to have the letter H emblazoned on their foreheads, while some others still seem to shimmer with a faint blue aura.

Monsters & fun with names

Sometimes you spend ages trying to come up with appropriate/cool names for your monsters, NPCs, locations. Other times you just play around with words like you did when you were a little kid: anagrams, portmanteaus, backwards spelling (think D&D classics like Zagyg and Tenser). As my mind pondered the subject (don't ask), one thing led to another, and thus I present to you following monsters for your funhouse LL (or even MF) dungeon:

Holmvay Molds

No. Enc.: 1 (1)
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 90' (30')
Armor Class: 7
Hit Dice: As original - 1
Attacks: 1
Damage: As original
Save: F2
Morale: 12
Hoard Class: None
XP: As original / 2

Created centuries ago by the demented alchemist Holmvay the Apothecary, the Mold disease is an airborne fungal spore which, through inhalation, nestles itself in the respiratory system of the host. The Mold quickly develops extensive colonies in the soft, moist tissue and then becomes passive, causing no discernible harm to the affected creature. Lying dormant in this state for up to many years, the spore only renews its activity upon the (natural) death of its host. Approximately one day after the host has died, white-greenish tendrils of mold start to form on the body of the deceased, starting around the mouth and nose. In 1D4 days the body is fully covered by the Mold, and even more exotic growths may occur (1D4: bioluminescent fungi - bubbling skin - black rot - corpse-pale flowers). At this stage the most spectacular fase of the Mold infestation starts, as the spore taps into the defunct nervous system and in this fashion reanimates the corpse. The creature subsequently becomes a Mold: a witless, shambling, unliving imitation of its former self. The Mold retains roughly the same physical strength and constitution as its deceased host, but loses all intelligence, inate abilities and can attack only once per round.
 Upon death, there is a 50% chance the Mold will burst asunder in a cloud of spores. For anyone within 10' of the creature when this happens, and if no precautions have been taken (ie damp cloth over mouth and nose, magical means, etc), the LL makes a save vs death. On failure, the character unwittingly contracts the Mold disease, which can be removed by cure disease. If the character were to die and no resurrection is undertaken before the Mold sets in, the LL can apply penalties or other consequences to a tardy resurrection attempt.

On a different note: if Star Trek's Spock and Scotty were merged due to a transporter mishap, like in the Voyager episode 'Tuvix', would they have to call the result Spotty?