Towards the Hoard of a Hundred Horrors: Townfathers

Suppurating grub-hulks slumbering and snoring in the lightless deep - each a nation, the founder and the foundation.

They are nightmare to nightmares, and lords of men.

Communities thrive under their protection, but these in truth are larders. When the festival of awakening comes the price of protection is paid in full.

They are

Townfathers

HD: 12 AC: 12 ATK: 1d20 crush - can hit all targets within an enclosed space simultaneously SAV: 12  MOV: As very big caterpillar - can compress itself through openings a human could crawl through INT: As lazy, hungry chimpanzee ML: 6
No. Appearing: 1

The Rumbling: The infrasonic rumbling of a sleeping townfather keeps other monsters at bay. Within the hex a townfather is in you do not need to check for wandering monsters. Within a hex's distance of a townfather's resting place wandering monsters are only 1/4 as frequent as usual. In the hexes immediately beyond this range wandering monsters are only 1/2 as frequent. A sleeping townfather whose rest is disturbed must test morale to awaken.

The Dinner Bell Calls: An awakened townfather can tune the mood of its dependents, for ease of feeding or self-defense - inducing xenophobic aggression, apocalyptic terror, placid revelry, or whatever else. Not quite mind control, but close enough. Those within range of the Rumbling must save or be affected, and take a cumulative 1 point penalty to their save for every week spent exposed to the Rumbling. A sufficient shock (injury, bucket of cold water to the face, hurting someone they care about, etc.) gives another save to throw off the influence. 

A townfather exposed to sunlight takes 1d6 damage each round.

A sufficiently old and well-fed townfather becomes a living dungeon - impervious from the outside, one must delve within to slay it.

Founding Family

HD: 2 AC: As armour worn ATK: As weapon wielded, advantage on grappling SAV: 7 MOV: As human - can compress themselves through openings a human finger could fit through INT: As human ML: 6
No. Appearing: 1d4

Traitors, collaborators, bound by blood. Descendants of the first to find a townfather, first to accept its bargain. Handsome, overly-identical sorts - pins and needles in their joints and in the hidden corners of their faces hold them into human shape. A second heart in their chest pulses the milk of the townfather through their veins - pale, slow and thick as treacle. They hear it as a choir of angels, calling them ever-forward to their grand destiny (of pampering the creature and sating its appetite).

 

Within range of the Rumbling they are telepathic with each other.