Feed the
Witch’s Bloodflowers
You have successfully journeyed to and petitioned to gain
audience to the Seer Witch of the Violet Fens; she greets you and leads you
forward into her garden where she stops to show you her BLOODFLOWERS.
A 20x30 patch of red and black flowering plants, appearing
as somewhat oversized /exaggerated rose petals surrounding a pink and black
orchid’s inner workings. They are warm to the touch (she says) and they reach
for her hands when she gestures over them.
She claims that some have been pleased to flatter her by ‘feeding’ her
flower beds.
The stems wave in the non-existent wind and gently meeping if
you approach to ‘feed’ them.
What do you
feed them?
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1
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Water
– HOW DIRTY IS
THE WATER? (If not known determine by %)
If
water is more than 67% dirty,
then her flowers immediately dissolved into putrid brown and purple mud. The Fen Witch is now super honked off and
throws 9d6 of lightning at d5 members of your party, conveniently standing in
a line up unless specifically and previously stated otherwise. Roll init.
The Fen Witch should be pretty tough – equal to an 11th
level magic-user or thereabouts. Most
of her magic involves throwing curses, weaponized bad luck, and gruesome
transformations your way. Also
elements. Speaking of, on her next
attack, she ignites anything mundane and flammable the party is carrying or,
you know, wearing. D3 points of damage the first round, d2 the second, and
one point the final round if they are still peeling out of flaming robes etc.
If
water is less than 67% dirty
then the flowers turn chalky white.
Immediately a 10x10 thundercloud appears over the PCs and dispenses
life giving rainwater. If 01-32%
dirty then 3d8 points of damage are healed by the single round rain shower. If 33-46 % dirty then 2d6 points are so
healed, and if 46-66% dirty then 1d6 of healing rain ensues.
UNLESS
HOLY WATER, then 0% dirty
– The flowers sizzle and crack like frying bacon on contact with the now smoldering
vapor that was your holy water. In an
instant the whole mass dissolves into a puddle of greenish, putrid slime. The Fen Which, meanwhile, polymorphs (or
perhaps De-polymorphs) into (or from) the shape of Be-Nighel, least angel of
guardian forces, a 12 foot battle maiden resplendent in shimmering celestial
armor of mithril and cobalt. Smiling
in acknowledgment she claims “You have passed the test, sinful mortals.” And immediately
gates you to the source of what you seek, answering any other question within
her purview honestly in the meantime. Anyone foolish enough to attack even a least
angel will be counter attacked by a 12 HD creature who strikes with the Holy,
Avenging, and Vorpal qualities. Once
she collects the offender’s head, she disappears, gone forever.
Did
you feed it unholy water? Wow really?
You’ll go far and then you’ll die bad.
With an exultant cry in low-middling Barazhad of I’M FREE
The flowers immediately fuse into Dionaeheus
Drosaria, known else as
FLARGNIVIGORTH
the FLORAL CATASTROPHIE, (AC -2 / 22 HD 10 HP around 60; immune to
non-magical missiles and non-magical fire.) who in one single attack springs,
eats, and consumes the Fen Witch. “How can its Floral Dreadfulness assist you mortal? “ The abyssal arch druid can do
almost anything involving demon flowers.
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2
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Milk
–
Cow’s
Milk? Hundreds of tiny little mouths audibly
slurp up that which was meant for calves.
The witch nods once and sees to your question. If Hathor or another cow goddess exists in
your campaign, you may have just honked Her off.
Goat’s
Milk? Better.
It turns blue when it splashes over the bloody rose petals and is
rapidly absorbed into the thing.
Meanwhile its stalk grows several inches over a few minutes time.
Mare’s
Milk – the milk
itself recoils from the flower petals as though a living thing. Tendrils from the inner folds of the flower
snap out and audibly suck the milk from mid-air where it attempts to flee
with a scream. (Yes this is just as surreal as it sounds.)
Mother’s
Milk – human milk?
I’m not going ask why you’re carrying that around in a wineskin but
whatever. The flowers hungrily devour
it directly, the veins noticeably swelling to absorb every drop. Secretly, the donor is given one (demonic)
wish.
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3
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Wine
– IS IT
WATERED? Y/N
Yes - That which fed the offending liquid is
consumed in a fireball of spontaneous human (or elven, dwarfen, etc.)
combustion; 10d6 of stinky gas blasting organic residue erupt from the
feeder, likely (at least) splitting them in half, if not making them explode
outright. If less than 0 hp remain, then after the fireball (which lights
nothing else on fire) only charred bits of teeth and bone remain.
No - The flowers
drink it, as though they possessed a mouth, esophagus and so on. You have no
idea how they are doing it but they consume as much as you feed. If you have
wine remaining they seem to “follow” you until you leave the area. The witch smiles and answers your
questions.
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4
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Blood – the most obvious…save that they
don’t drink blood. You pour the stuff of life itself uselessly over the
succulent, fleshy blood petals. The
witch laughs at you. She will tell you nothing and your quest has failed. You are teleported home (1 in 6) or (5 in
6) to room (roll a d24) in the Judge’s favorite scenario or adventure. IF this makes no goddam sense either roll
with it or have the whole thing be a pollen induced hallucination that wears
off in d12 rooms’ worth of encounters. Either way you keep the XP. Either
way, if you’re dead, you die. If you
still care about your quest thereafter, the witch will tell you what you wish
to know and offer to transport you there via scrying portal or giant
bird-demon.
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5
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Mead – You lucky soul you. You are either very lucky, very wise, or
very very favored by the Gods (assuming there is a meaningful distinction
anyway). The open petals of the flower
or flowers so anointed turn a shade of golden-amber immediately. The Floral Abomination has not had a drink
in SOOOO LOOOONG and certainly not Godsblessed mead. When the mead-donor next dies, they will
immediately be reborn d24 hours later as a PC possible class possessing half
their current experience points but not necessarily
as their original class or race (or gender, or age, or sex, or ethnicity, or
any other such thing).
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6
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Not
a Damn Thing – Smart. Also safe and so not very daring. Not at
all. Your next expenditure of luck will cost double as a reminder to take the
occasional risk you so-called adventurer you.
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