Seven Virtues

This one has spoilers for my crew, so if you're in my group get out while you can!

The Seven Virtues, and the organization they represent, have emerged as the great villains of my Inquisition campaign. But who are they exactly?

The Ordo Ferrum, the Inquisition's demon-hunting arm, has long been experimenting with the unthinkable heresy of demon binding.

It all began in 987, when the Pope became possessed by a demon so mighty that even the most expert exorcists failed to rid him of the afflicting spirit. Many a fearful clergyman believed that this demon must be Lucifer himself, and that this disaster might spell the end of the fledgling Church.

With nowhere left to turn, the high clerics called upon the Knights Evisser, founded by a legendary paladin of the same name. With all haste she was rushed to the Vatican and brought to the Pope's bedside. Faced with perhaps her greatest challenge, she did what any sensible crusader would do when faced with Satanic incursion: smite the Pope and declare herself head of the Church.

With the Knights Evisser and their allies behind her, the organs of the Church could do little to thwart her, and so her seizure of the Papacy went uncontested aside from the lamentations of the Cardinals.

Her power secure, Evisser turned her mind to the corruption plaguing Christendom, for what other reason would God in his infinite wisdom allow the Pope to be overcome by Satan? She gathered knights from every land under God and launched a massive purge. With sword and fire she swept across kingdom after kingdom, putting millions to the torch. If Evisser sensed even a whiff of heresy in a city, it would burn. If a king's relative had ever been accused of consorting with dark powers, there was war against him and his people. Her great crusade was deadlier than any plague that ever touched the lands of man, and all told it remains the bloodiest war in the Church's already sordid history.

But the fire burning in Evisser's heart could not be extinguished, and soon she turned her eyes abroad. Across the Sea of Whales to the north were arctic lands who knew not God's love. In the 19th year of her purges, grown old and scarred, she swore an oath that before her death she would spread the true faith to all who lived under the sun.

An expedition was mounted to that hyperborean place beyond any map's edge, a venture unthinkable to even the most ambitious of conquerors in history. But Evisser was unlike any other. With a cadre of her most elite, she boarded a great black ship and set sail for the unknown.

What she found was a temple, nestled amidst the peaks of a mountain they called Erebus.

Evisser set her mind to abolishing this shrine of false gods, and they left the ship to scale the frozen slopes of this craggy mountain. It was cold, cold enough to crack stones, and the winds that assailed her force was so ferocious that many among them spoke dreadfully of elder forces keeping them at bay, that perhaps the gods of this place still dwelt within and even now resisted the approach. In hushed tones, they spoke too of Evisser's madness. Fitfully they slept, plagued now with nightmares of the cities they had razed in her name, of women and children fed to endless fires, and always they dreamed of her blood-mad eyes. Unknown to Evisser, mutiny brewed among her faithful.

Men starved and froze upon the mountain. Every sunrise over the mountain was a fresh grave dug in the frost-hardened earth. Talk of insurrection glutted itself on every buried warrior.

Then finally, after many days of hardship, Evisser gained the peak, and entered that unhawllowed pagan place.

To the shock of a learned woman named Abyssinia among the crusaders, the ruins were Assyrian! An ancient empire, long vanished, that once ruled half the world. But they were never thought to have ventured beyond the Sea of Whales, there was no record of their journey to this land of wind and ice. Abyssinia warned of the great and restless evil of this people, but her fear only enraged Evisser, who set about the task of tearing down the hateful forms of inhuman idols.

Ill content to watch yet more wanton destruction, Abyssinia set off deeper into the temple. She followed a trail of runes carved into the wall, a script that told stories of the War in Heaven, the Dragon, and the Hidden Ones.

One of the crusaders followed Abyssinia, likewise discontent with Evisser's rages. This is how it began. First one, then his sword-brother, then many flocked to Abyssinia, lost in following her runes.

By the time she reached the tomb, half the expedition was behind her.

Enshrined here was a woman, with skin like starry night and a robe like flowing blood. The aeons of interment had not touched her.

And her eyes opened. And she spoke. And they listened.

She told of the evils that Evisser had wrought as if she knew them firsthand. She told of all this suffering as part of a cycle, one that echoed itself over and over, the bell of history tolling with cries of woe. Before Evisser's purges the Romans had done much the same, before them the Assyrians, and so on. Human history seemed trapped in an endless flat circle of self-destruction.

What God, she asked, would allow this?

God is long departed from us, she said, his throne in Heaven empty since Adam was cast out of the garden. He has abandoned you, and yet you perpetrate bloodshed in his name. Why?

God has trapped this world in a yoke of pain, and the only way free is the utter destruction of the horror-stricken earth he has created. Then the new world will grow up from the ashes, as such things always do. But a world free of God. A world free of pain.

It was simple then, to slay Evisser. Lost in her destruction of the temple, she never heard Abyssinia behind her. Her only warning that something had gone wrong was when her sword was seized from her belt. Then, as Abyssinia had done to a thousand heretics in Evisser's name, she ran the woman through.

Returning to the woman in the tomb, Abyssinia thanked her for setting them upon the path to freedom. And the woman in the tomb introduced herself.

I am the Black Goddess, she said.

And she taught Abyssinia the lost art of binding, by which she might chain demons to her followers and grant them great infernal power.

Returning to the Vatican, Abyssinia asked the crusaders to keep this secret from the Church. She was not Evisser, she said. She would not command them or threaten them, there would be no execution of those who disagreed. If they desired, they could kill her then and there for all she had done. There would be no resistance.

It was simple then, to win them over.

So Evisser's sword was buried in lieu of her body, lost to northern pagan arrows as far as the Church would ever know. And the Inquisition was founded to carry on her great mission of rooting out heresy in the peoples of Christ. And its first order, Ferrum, "of steel and sword", was founded. And Abyssinia bound the princes of Hell to her mightiest followers, great demon kings helplessly slaved to mortal men by the Black Goddess' secret knowledge.

And Abyssinia faded into history, leaving a legacy of extraordinary Inquisitors that would be exalted by layman and clergy alike as great heroes, called the Seven Virtues.

Long story short, here are some stat blocks for 5th edition enemies:

Humility (Pride)

Humility, in another life, was a beggar boy in the Lotus Empire. The Inquisition records are incomplete, but somehow he became a pupil of the swordmaster Masanari Hanzo and quickly rose to prominence in the school of the Falling Star. The boy's gift with the sword elevated him from the lowest of the low to one exalted across the prefectures of the Empire. Perhaps this sudden and unexpected rise to fame led him to fall from grace. One morning, the other students discovered him kneeled in the master's study, stolen sword drenched in Hanzo's blood. Needless to say, Humility fled the Lotus Empire and found himself picked up by Inquisitors at the edge of the Oasis Kingdoms. Eventually brought before Abyssinia, psychological evaluation revealed him to be a perfect candidate to be bound to Lucifer, the prince of Pride. He accepted with an easy smile.

AC 18, HP 162, STR+5, DEX+5, CON+4, INT+3, WIS+5, CHA+5
Saves Str/Dex+7, Con+6, Wis+9, Cha+9
Immune to frightened condition
Compelled duel is cast on anyone who hits him with a melee attack.
Smirk: Each time he is missed by an attack or lands one, he gains +1 to hit and AC, and 10 temp HP and a battlemaster die (starts with 1).
Look Down Upon: Each time he is damaged, he gains advantage to hit on his next round.
Starfall Sword: 3/round, +8 to hit, d8+4 damage plus 4d8 radiant damage, make a battlemaster move if he has a die available.
3 legendary actions (sword)

Patience (Wrath)

Patience was eldest daughter to Lord Melrose, Anglikan old money. By the time Melrose's incestuous predations were revealed to the public, it was far too late for his daughter. Horrifically burned in an "accident" her father perpetrated, she learned to quietly build her rage for select moments when it could be unleashed. Taking after her father, this was usually played out on the helpless; first animals, then children, and finally - rising to prominence as a crack confessor - prisoners of Church and state. After observing her 10 year interrogation of the Sabine Witch, Abyssinia selected her as a candidate for binding to Baphomet, the prince of Wrath. No persuasion was necessary - she volunteered.

AC 19, HP 146, Move/Climb/Fly 40, STR/CON+4, DEX+3, INT+1, WIS+2, CHA+3
Saves STR+8, DEX+7, CON+8
Acid Blood: Any weapon that strikes her is corroded to the point of uselessness.
Howl of Pain: Her constant screaming drowns out spellcasting as silence.
Rising Anger: Every hit she takes grants her +1 attack and +2 damage.
Bloodied: At half HP attacks and reactions per round double.
Claw: +11 hit, d8+8 damage.
Flames of Rage: 15 ft cone, 2d8+4 damage or strike nearest creature for +2 damage.

Vengeful Riposte: When hit moves to attacker and makes claw attack, 2/round reaction.

Chastity (Lust)

Chastity was a humble nun at a flagging convent in Cordoba. She and another sister loved eachother, deeply, secretly, and in the desperation of their plight tried to conjure up Lucifer to free them. He agreed to grant them their desire, only if she would break her vow of chastity, as she had done many times with the other sister, and lay down with him. Their congress cursed her, destroying her heart and leaving a bottomless pit that no pleasure could fell. When Inquisitors dragged her away, Abyssinia picked her from the bottom of the heap to find her begging for possession, anything to fill the emptiness. And so she was given to Asmodeus, the prince of Lust.

AC 19, HP 142, STR+4, DEX+3, CON+4, INT+1, WIS+2, CHA+5
Saves Int+5, Wis+6, Cha+7
Skills Deception+7, Insight+6
How Charming: Any mind-affecting spells are reversed on the user with no save.
Perfection: While she is at full HP, foes must WIS save DC 20 to attack her or fall into admiration. Whoever kills her falls into a deep depressive fugue that may last forever.
Eloquent (DC 20): Every sentence she speaks is a suggestion. When she smiles, save vs charm.
Thorn Whips: 2/round, +8 to hit, reach 15 ft, d8+4 plus 1 bleed/round, and either throw 30 ft for additional d8+4 or grapple (escape DC 20).

All credit for the Perfection and Eloquent abilities goes to this article on a way cooler blog.

Temperance (Gluttony)

Temperance was born in a time of plague, and turned to the old ways of flagellation, seeking salvation through penance. By some miracle he was spared, and he led a movement to repopularize this ancient tradition. What began as a cleansing act became an addiction for him, and his followers were pulled in his wake as they transformed into a pain cult. When the Ordo Ferrum broke up the cult, Abyssinia made him a prime candidate for binding to Belphegor, the prince of Gluttony. He agreed, so long as an enchantment was placed on him that would leave his wounds to never heal.

AC 16, HP 133, STR+5, DEX-1, CON+4
Slam: 2/round, +8 to hit, 2d10+5 damage, he regains HP equal to damage dealt.
Glutton for Punishment: When damaged, 50% roll below instead (use for finishing moves too):

1. Leg severed. Blood geyser grants 60ft jump. 2nd result grants 60ft fly speed. Ignore additional results.
2. Disemboweled. Intestines grapple @ 20ft and drag targets in to be dissolved 3d6/turn. Additional results = additional grapples.
3. Decapitated. Blind but locally omniscient @ 10ft. Stump roars, head still speaks.
4. Hand severed. Shoot as missile @ 30ft, choke or blind (DC 20 to remove). Second result = additional attack. Ignore additional results.
5. Foot severed. Foes knocked prone in blood when entering 5ft. Second result = 10ft radius. Ignore additional results.
6. Struck in heart. Weapon grabbed.
7. Fountain of gore. Foes in cone pushed back 15 ft and blinded d4 rounds.
8. Mortal wound. Seemingly dead, automatic sneak attack 2 rounds later.
9. Arm severed. Gains riposte with legs, as Slam but only as reaction to attack.
10. Jaw broken. Spray broken teeth in 15 ft cone 3d6.
11. Head pulped. Weapon grabbed.
12. Pulp hand. Damage of that attack doubles, more surface area.

The Glutton for Punishment ability is a straight-up rip from a much better blog, found here.

Diligence (Sloth)

Diligence was raised by an Inquisitorial mage as a virtuoso, an absolute magical prodigy. He entered Vatican University at fourteen in the School of Magic, excelling in class though rarely attending, and certainly never studying. He didn't need to. The headmasters expelled him when he was caught using an enchantment to cheat, and he was brought to court for consorting with dark powers in an attempt to blackmail the masters into handing over his degree. At Abyssinia's order, an execution was staged with an unfortunate body double and Diligence was handed over to her care. On meeting her, he claimed to know about the binding project and requested Beelzebub, the prince of Sloth.

AC 15 (mage armor), HP 99, INT+5, CHA+3, DEX/WIS+2, STR-1
Saves INT+9 WIS+6
Magical Whiz: Advantage on magic saves, resist damage from spells.
Swarmlord: Surrounded by swarm of insects, does 2 each round for free:

1. Shield of Wings grants +5 AC against all attacks.
2. Sleepy Buzz all in hearing range save DC 17 WIS or take Exhaustion.
3. Hornet Sting save DC 17 DEX or 8d6 damage, half on success, poisoned.

Spells: DC 17, +9 to hit, can hold 2 concentration spells at once.

• Ray of Frost (cantrip) spell attack, d8 damage, -10 ft speed.
• Bane (4 slots) 3 targets, CHA save, -d4 on rolls, concentration.
• Hold Person (3 slots), 1 target, CHA save, paralyzed, concentration.
• Time Stop (1 slot), d4+1 turns of frozen time.

Mercy (Envy)

Mercy is just her mortal guise. Envy is her name, or Leviathan, and she is the only one of the Seven Virtues who is not a human bound to a demon. Rather she is the demon, a full-fledged prince of Hell. She was bought easily by the Ordo Ferrum, who should by rights be her enemies. She was bought with the promise of that which she had forever desired: a human life. She was given a body to live out her fantasies through, fantasies of simple things and motherhood and the thousand experiences a demon would never have. After Abyssinia gave her this gift, a mortal coil that could be shuffled off so easily by the Ordo Ferrum, she became a faithful servant of their aims.

AC 16, HP 112, STR/CON+3, DEX+1, CHA+5
Shapeshift: Take the form of any creature she has seen.
Harpoon Arm: reach 60ft, +7 to hit, 4d8+3 damage target grappled (escape DC 20).
Sorrowful Embrace: DC 20 WIS save when grappled or 4d8 psychic damage, steals painful or triumphant memories (50% which ones she steals).
Never Let Go: When damaged while grappling someone, she deals an additional 4d8 psychic damage to them as a reaction and steals even more memories.

Charity (Greed)

The third son of a Cosa Nostra don, Charity was born into such extravagant wealth that he never knew want in his life. He was a self-consumed playboy for most of his life, which only ended when his father cut him off after the killing of his mother by a rival syndicate. He became a traveling mountebank, hawking snake oil from village to village and moving fast enough to stay ahead of the angry mobs formed in the wakes of his "miracle cures". Caught with counterfeit cargo by Inquisitors, Abyssinia picked out the insatiable desires in his profile and selected him for binding to Mammon, the prince of Greed. It was an ugly, unwilling binding.

Personally never saw the need to stat him up. He's just not a fighter.

If I did make a stat block for him, he would be a Noble straight out of the Monster's Manual, with the ability to turn every metal object within 20ft into gold as a reaction to getting hit.

The Old City

Buried beneath the Mad Queen's Palace, buried by time and earth and historical revisionism, is the Old City, called in contemporary annals the Nameless City, called by its modern populace the City of Ghouls.

In the years between the great flood and the rise of Rome, there ruled an empire unparalleled. They were called the Assyrians, and their armies marched from the Sea of Monsters in the west to the Wall of Heaven in the east, and their fleets brought ruin to the Children of the Sun beyond the Boiling Waters, and their palaces were buttressed with the skulls of their enemies, and their streets were lined with the shattered statues of enemy gods, and they were great and terrible.

But no earthly power is enough for man, whose avarice is infinite. The Assyrians desired the power of the gods. They craved, above all, power over Death.

It was then that the Black Goddess came to them, as she came to the Romans before their fall, and as it is whispered she comes to us now. She came with a book of secret truths, hidden from man by the gods, those jealous guardians. From this book, the Assyrians learned and mastered a hundred sorceries. Chief among these magicks was that most highly sought by the kings: the secret to eternal life.

Of course there were wars and schisms, for few would abide the destruction of the natural order, an affront to the gods themselves. But many of the Black Goddess' followers survived, and she commanded them to build a great city beneath the sea cliffs of a place where certain eldritch stars shone on starless nights.

They built a city of the dead.

For a time, the king of this city reigned above all others. His armies were inexhaustible, the enemy dead swelled his ranks, he grew ever stronger while his enemies could only weaken. But this army of the hungry dead would never stop its march, so bottomless was its hunger. The dead, beyond the king's control now, bled their former kinsmen dry until the Assyrian empire, built on the bones and severed heads of the conquered, was itself ground into dust.

They made a wasteland, and called it peace.

And so there remained one city of the Assyrians, sole relic of a fading broken dream.

But the people of this city had long ago disavowed the gods, and now divine vengeance fell like the sword of Damocles upon them. The earth was scorched and salted, the seas emptied of fish, the rains would not come, disease struck the people. Everywhere was famine and sickness. The people were terrified, surely judgement was upon them and they had been found wanting. And in fear, the king turned back to the Black Goddess. And she told him of the Hidden Ones.

Before man, before earth, before the gods, there had always Been. The gods did not come from nowhere. All things had come from the roiling chaos of Before, and in this nowhere, there were hidden beings older than ancient. It was they who wielded true power. It was they who would save the city, not gods or men.

But such things come at a price.

Great temples were built and sacrifices made; hecatombs slaughtered and their blood drained into the maws of statues whose thirst could never be slaked, children cast into the open arms of flaming hundred-tendriled idols.

And the Black Goddess, pleased at the frenzied orgy of worship, touched the king with Death. "You will never thirst or hunger again. Illness will pass you by." She smiled a terrible smile. "You will grow fat from death".

Time passed and the prophecy proved true: the king felt no hunger, no thirst, and the plagues that stalked his city spared him. He knew he must act quickly to save his people. He begged the Black Goddess to minister her blessing upon the people, promised her anything, anything. She smiled again, and said no sacrifices would be needed. One by one, in the temples of the Hidden Ones, the Black Goddess blessed every man, woman, and child with Death.

And though the plague died away, and the people rejoiced, their praises to the king fell on deaf ears. Something was amiss. He could feel it. The pains and needs of life had been relieved, and yet a great hunger was growing in him. No food would satisfy it. No wine would drown it.

It was a hunger for the dead.

Horror mounted in him as he presided over the burial of those who refused the Black Goddess' gift. He could not keep his eyes from the bodies. They seemed to call to him.

It was then he knew what the Black Goddess had done. Before he could glut himself upon the corpses of his people, he ordered his tower sealed and sunk with him inside it.

Soon this same hunger gripped the people, but few chose the king's path, even in the face of such monstrosity. In the space of a week the city turned upon itself, the mausoleums were broken open, the graveyards excavated, the great tombs of the royal family looted for their lifeless plunder.

And so rose the Ghoul Kings, great and gluttonous, partite masters of this City of Ghouls. Deathless aeons and the devouring of the dead has made them monstrous, twisted creatures, and the "people" are little better - ragged beasts who bear only the trappings of civilization, noble necrophages, preying upon their past and eachother.

Anything to live.

This whole take on the undead is inspired by the wonderful ghouls detailed here.

The Queen's Madness

As old as it is, this one has spoilers for my campaign. My players best get out before they ruin things for themselves.

The old ones do not sleep or die, though to mortal eyes they do both. Their minds  dwell on higher planes, and for long aeons their bodies in the physical realm may seem to sleep. Indeed these bodies can, through great destructive power, be destroyed. But even the final annihilation of their body is not the death of the mind.

Her whole life, the Queen lived in a man’s world. Never anything more than a party favor, a festival attraction, a bargaining chip. Until she married the Prince. That was her first taste of real power. She could make anyone do anything, save the royal family. The Prince and his father always towered over her. When the Prince’s father died and she first took the title of Queen, her power grew. So did her desire to see no man command her. Some say she poisoned the Prince. All that’s known is that he died, and she was so beloved that the people demanded she continue to reign in his stead. And so she has. For a time, she enjoyed peace, finally ruling over her life as a man might. But with true Queendom came responsibility to foreign powers and with that came new ways of subjugation by men. This new way was the Church, whose God is a man, whose high clerics are men. The Church had attached itself to her land like a parasite, and in the tenth year of her reign it sucked its prey dry. The Church wanted to become the official religion of her realm, and the people wanted it too. The Queen accepted, as she must, lest she be deposed by chain and pyre. But she was not going to surrender power to these men with their holy water and their God. Through her Mathematician, she found a way to contact the old ones, and they instructed her how to become like them. She will bear a child, herself, into the world. The birth will kill her, but her consciousness will be reborn into her child. Even now she is undergoing the ritual. The madness gripping her city and the phantasms of her that seem to walk the palace are manifestations of this deep disturbance of the natural order. The Queen doesn’t care. Now, surely, no man will hold power over her.

The madness of the maids is a symptom of the Queen’s coming ascension beyond the reach of men. This energy has infected them with uprising, and now they would do as their Queen does (without knowing it, thinking her the symbol they rebel against rather than rally around) and ascend beyond their station. They would become royalty, no longer servants.

The wing occupied by the Mathematician has succumbed to the chaos of higher realities. The architecture has rearranged around non-Euclidean geometries and impossible space. To walk there is to warp. Nothing there is natural. The Archbishop Artemis has become trapped here, trapped and twisted. Things are coming through from the other side, but who knows what is what.

Below the palace dwells the Nurse, and with her all the failed experiments that led to the triumph of the Queen’s rebirth. The space is right but the denizens are horrific, and it is the reality, not unreality, of the gruesome experiments here that makes them truly horrible.

Below even this, buried under the palace’s foundation, are the ruins of the old city. Here the last dynasty, who communed personally with the old ones, dwelt and still dwell. For they have transcended death in their own way, not quite living and not quite undead, a cannibal society of ghouls and vampires. It is here, in the holiest shrine, that the Queen is being reborn. Here the bodies of the slain become possessed by lingering quantum spirits of the old ones, corpses fashioned into shoggoth-hulks of dead matter.

This was the earliest iteration of lore for my Inquisition campaign. "The old ones," vague as they were, were replaced by a more Biblical (but not too Biblical) Dragon, a product of Lucifer's war against God that finds itself chained outside the cosmos, sealed behind the angel-portal Lilith and awaiting the day it is unleashed upon the quaking Earth...

Maids in the Mad Queen's Palace

This is for a 5th edition game I’ve been running. Before their untimely slaughter by overzealous PCs, these women were a band of revolutionary anti-patriarchal warriors that had recently overthrown the corrupt aristocracy of a queendom about to be brought into the Papal fold.

Of course they were also involved in drink-the-rich’s-blood-to-gain-their-power-type schemes, but that’s just par for the course in one of my campaigns. And it turns out it was an effective strategy (blood psionics detailed in a later post), so kudos to them really.

Anyways, here are some maids from the mad queen’s palace.

SOLANGE LE MERCIER

Golden hair, ruddy skin, full-bodied and tall, low bodice and tight skirt, boots. Apes an aristocratic air of disgust. Hands, knees, and elbows are black with filth. Dirty gloves hang from her belt. Soot like running makeup stains her caked-on white foundation.
AC 13 (speed), HP 33, DEX+2, CON+1, WIS+1, CHA+2
Skills: Deception+4, Persuasion+4, Religion+2, History+2
Thirsting Blade: +4 to hit, d4+2 piercing damage, bleeds target for 1 HP per round until healed, and she can use a bonus action to drink the blood off the blade, healing her for damage dealt.
General Commentary: “You will never defeat us. The cause lives on. We will always be here.”

JOELLEN

Running makeup as if she’s crying. Chainmail full of bloody stab wounds, not her blood. Foggy eyes like she has cataracts (she does). Pale and bloodless looking, prematurely greying red hair pulled back in a too-severe bun.
AC 14 (stolen chainmail), HP 15, all stats 10
Black Hand Greatsword (lifted from here): +3 to hit, 2d6+1 slashing damage, crits deal max damage doubled but give you a point of Black Hand (you’re really gonna want to check this out).
Blind Charge: If she moves 10ft before attacking she can charge for disadvantage on the attack roll but guaranteed max damage if she hits.
Rage Snuff Pouch: Bonus action, causes her (or anyone really) to rage as a 1st level Barbarian. d10 uses.
Cataracts: You can Hide from her in plain sight, with disadvantage of course.
General Commentary: “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do this. Please forgive me.”

LUCILLE

Manic energy, twitching at shadows and muttering curses to ghosts. Wet brown curls, very very thin and cheekboney, white as parchment. Slightly ridiculous caved in silver helm and crudely pressed breastplate, like she made it out of melted plates (she did).
AC 15 (battered helmet + magic breastplate), HP 11, all stats 10
Dual Daggers: 2 attacks, +5 to hit, d4 piercing damage.
Bag of Dead Leaves: When poured onto the ground, creates a 10ft by 10ft by 10ft pit trap.
Hot to the Touch: Hitting her with a melee attack deals d4 fire damage to the attacker (it’s just her breastplate, so you can get that effect too).
Delusional: You have advantage on checks to convince her that her delusions are real.
General Commentary: “Damn these rats! That big one has a bite, I’ll squash it!”

CRESSIDA

Lifeless forlorn face, dark skin and light freckles, recently shaved bald like a monk. Carefully wrapped chainmail, extra secure. Shield scribed with warding devices, evil eyes, etc. Same devices carved or branded on scalp.
AC 16 (hauberk+shield), HP 6, all stats 10
Shrapnel Rapier: +4 to hit, d8+1. She can snap off a piece in you, and it cannot be removed (DC 13 CON save every night or infection, +1 DC for every additional piece in you)
Careful Tactician: Use action to examine your weaknesses and get advantage on next attack.
Hopeless: Advantage to Intimidation or Persuasion checks to get her to stop fighting.
General Commentary: “Damn. Too many of them. We’ll be blood on their boots soon.”



For people who care about such things (I do near the beginning of a campaign then promptly stop giving a fuck by around 7th level in 5th edition) the players fought these 4 all at once at around level 3. It was a pretty easy fight. I have no clue what CR they are.