
These beholders are walking embodiments of surreal, mental horror, able to bring forth armies from their own dreams.
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Maybe only one beholder, but given how they reproduce? A beholder could easily learn how to use their own nightmares to spawn bits of their prey's psyche as minions. They're dark fae and tricksters, not "witches, but Always Chaotic Evil." But thinking about it, I just realized. This version of hags is going in Ravenloft (the campaign setting) no Ifs, Ands, or Buts, this is how they operate. This didn't kill it - that was considerably more difficult - but when it woke up at the bottom of an ocean that tasted of vinegar, locked to the waist in green amber, and with a rock on its chest, it decided it would put the research project on hold until it could set its house in order. At that point, one of its surviving lieutenants hit it in the back of the head with a club made of jade. When the dust settled, the spirit considered another research expedition, this time to find out who or what the grandmother had been. Three hundred years later, it came back, with a rainbow host of grandsons. Then it built a banderhobb out of the remains of the previous two expeditions, an obedient and sturdy creature without fecundity, and told it to go see what all this chaos business was about. One of the surviving creatures of the higher air reported back that the deep chaos was aggressively mutable the fecund nature of life would be accelerated, causing unpredictable and devastating mutations. There was an incident and glaciers occurred to people in unexpected circumstances. The creatures of the higher air laughed and said they weren't falling for that one. So the spirit called up some of its stronger lieutenants, creatures of the higher air, and ordered those into the chaos. Well, something came back, but it wasn't really the same. It commanded its hunters to go in, but they didn't come back. Rainbows and dust poured out, for it had found a path into deep chaos. But it could learn, and in time it became a great power in the world, and its thoughts turned to its origins. There was nothing tame about this spirit. These were the red days of bone and flint, the dark nights of frost in an age before fire entered the world. Suppose, for example, that in the Before-Time there was a fey spirit born at the intersection of chaos and fertility, becoming an avatar of wild and woodsy things. Big scary toad monster with ties to another plane? I can work with that.


In my ongoing quest to take slaadi to the next level, I must now consider the banderhobb.
