Deities of the Moonshaes

As the hour grew late, Gwenlyn spoke of the Earthmother and her moonwells. Gwenlyn believes that the Earthmother is the very essence of the land and is responsible for all that grows and lives in the Moonshaes. This Earthmother seems more attentive than absent Ubtao, but she is locked in a perpetual struggle with Kazgoroth, who seeks to bring ruin and destruction to the islands.
I want to see one of these moonwells for myself before I return home. They sound incredible and worthy of study. Perhaps the druids would let me study one for a time?

Other Gods in the Moonshaes

Many people in the Moonshaes worship gods other the Earthmother. Called the “New Gods” by the druids and the Earthmother’s faithful, these deities have enormous influence in the archipelago. The largest three among the Ffolk are Chauntea, Helm, and Milil.
Chauntea is often seen as both synonymous with the Earthmother and separate from the primal spirit of the Moonshaes. When she is worshipped separately, Chauntea is the patron of agriculture and coaxing the bounty from the land. Helm is popular among the warriors and nobility of the Moonshaes for his steadfast opposition to Talos and Malar. Milil, the goddess of poetry and song, is well regarded throughout the islands by both Ffolk and Notherlanders. Legends claim that he brought the harp to the Moonshaes and taught the first bards.
Among the Northlanders, Valkur, the Captain of the Waves, gains the most worship, surpassing that of Tempus in recent years. As the patron of sailors, Valkur is loved in a way that Umberlee never could. Offerings are still made to the Queen of the Depths, but out of fear and obligation.
The dark gods of Talos, Bhaal, and Malar have left their mark on the Moonshaes in the past. All three of these dark gods are known to hold grudges, especially Talos the destroyer. With the fracturing of the United Moonshae Isles, many sages wonder if the hand of Talos is again at work, subtly bringing destruction to the kingdom and the family that have thwarted him so many times in the past.
The Black Bloods venerate Malar and worship of the Beastlord is indelibly tangled with lycanthropy in the minds of the Moonshavians. While Bane has a small, but dedicated, following as discussed in the Risen Cult of Bane section above.

The goddess a wakened slowly from her cold sleep, awareness returning as the chill blanket of the passing season fell away. Turning with imperial grace, she sought the life-giving force of the renewed sun. Soon she felt its warmth upon the long and gravelly beaches of her coastlines, and upon the stagnant expanses of her low, flat marshes. Slowly, the sun drove winters blanket from the rolling moors and tilled fields.
The white mantle remained thick and heavy among the forests and glens, and the highlands still showed no sign of acknowledging winter’s end. This was as it should be, and the goddess rejoiced in the growing vitality of her body, the earth.
Cool seas bathed her lands, cleansing the debris left by the passing of winter. The goddess saw that her children still slept peacefully They could, she hoped, sleep long years before she needed to call them.
Through the Moonwells, she saw the clearing skies. No longer did the heavy, iron-gray storm clouds oppress her The Ffolk were active, preparing for a new season of growth. The druids moved among the trees and mountains of her wild reaches, restoring places where winter had disrupted the Balance.
Yet, as she threw off her white blanket, she felt a sudden, stabbing pain, penetrating deep within her Hot and threatening, the injury seemed ready to spread like a cancer through her.
A Moonwell was the source of the pain. Instead of providing a window into the world, full of cool and healthy power, the well burned like a poisoned wound. Very black, it blocked the light and absorbed her power, instead of nourishing it. As she awakened, the goddess felt fear.
And she knew that, once again, the Beast would walk the land.

--From Darkwalker on Moonshae

The religious foundation of the Moonshae Isles is predicated upon a worship of the land itself. This belief, originated and primarily held by the Ffolk, has resulted in a conception of their goddess as the earthmother. The belief holds that the goddess is not a humanshaped, or otherwise mortal-imitating being; but is rather the hills and moors and marshes and seas of the world.
Central to this belief is the purity of the land. The antithesis of the goddess is, naturally, the threat of corruption, perversion, or pollution of the land. The goddess is a neutral deity, recognizing that both good and evil have a place in the world. Her strength derives from a Balance of these extremes. Her enemies are not only those evil ones who would extinguish life casually and frequently, or maliciously bring destruction upon her. She is also threatened by those who preach a doctrine of complete peace, or practice the science of bringing the land under the control of its human caretakers, threaten to push the Balance too far in the other direction.
Thus, the goddess strives against powerful forces. She is threatened from both sides of the Balance, and her existence is always in danger. She has powerful allies, of course. Her children, the Leviathan, Kamerynn the unicorn, and the Pack, all provide powerful tools in the defense of the Balance. The druids, too, are potent warriors in the goddess's struggle.
But arrayed against her is the Beast, Kazgoroth. It is a being of putrid filth but awesome power. In times past, the goddess has seen the monster slain, or vanquished, only to suffer its return in an even mightier aspect decades, or perhaps even centuries, later.
And the clerics of the new gods threaten the Balance as well, with their words of good and peace and mastery over nature. Peace is a benign blessing, but is the natural state of the goddess, and when this peace must be accompanied by mastery of the land, as the clerics preach, the power of the mother can only wane.
The major players in this cosmic drama are detailed here. They may be used to serve as a centerpiece of your campaign, or simply to provide a bit of background flavor as you and your players wish.

The Goddess, Earthmother

The goddess shivered and flinched. She felt her body growing numb—not from fear, but from a distant and wistful sadness. The feeling was remote, and she took no great notice of it. Gradually, though, she began to recognize the numbness for the dire threat that it was.
With an effort, she forced herself to stir. Hesitation now, she knew instinctively, would be fatal. The call she sent reverberated through the earth, thrumming deep within the mountains and hills, even rolling along the bottom of the sea.
Hoping that it was not too late, the goddess tried to awaken her children.

-- From Darkwalker on Moonshae

The goddess of the Moonshaes is an aspect of the benign goddess Chauntea (Chawn--TEE--ah), who is worshiped throughout the Realms as the neutral good goddess of agriculture. As she is worshiped in the Moonshaes, however, her aspect is shaped differently than it is in any other part of the Realms.
Where Chauntea is generally worshiped as a goddess of agriculture, the earthmother is much more a goddess of nature. Agriculture as an aspect of nature she regards kindly, but agriculture as an attempt to master the land becomes a grave threat to her existence.
The earth goddess does not have a physical form in which her worshipers can see her, other than the world that is all around them. Her symbols, however, are myriad. The tiniest swallow is a favored messenger of the goddess. A broad oak, gnarled and weatherbeaten, but alive and flourishing, symbolizes her ageless strength. A towering pine, rising arrow-straight toward the heavens, marks the precious neutrality of her being, so necessary to preserving the Balance. The thorny, bright green cluster of mistletoe is another of her symbols, showing the vitality and harshness of her existence and mirroring the extremes inherent in her two most dramatic seasons, the winter and summer.
Her deepest symbols, incorporating all of the contradictions inherent in the Balance, are the moon and the sun. Those periods when the moon is full are nights of high power, when druids rejoice and the land itself seems to share in the celebration of the goddess’s power. Midsummer’s Eve, the night of the summer solstice, is a period of great magic. This is when the druids harvest the mistletoe for their most potent rites, and when all the communities of the Ffolk pause to celebrate their life and prosperity.
The full moons near the vernal (spring) and autumnal equinoxes are also festive occasions. In spring, the festivals are affairs of frenetic drinking, dancing, and romance as, after the long cold winter, the return of warmth and sun to the land is welcomed by the Ffolk. Spring festivals are ribald affairs, but the Ffolk are congenial even in the throes of drink, so the only real drawbacks are suffered by the celebrants the following morning.
The autumn festival is a more sober affair, for the Ffolk know that a cold and dangerous winter waits close in the wings. In autumn, feasting rather than drinking is the order of the day, and the better the annual harvest, the more elaborate the feast. Nearly all ports of the isles bid their last departing ships farewell following the autumn festival; they are not likely to receive another visiting vessel for six months, until spring once again rolls across the land. The night of the Winter Solstice, or Yuletide, is an eve of deep reverence for the Ffolk and their druids. Locked within the icy grip of winter, they quietly acknowledge the might of the land around them and celebrate the beginning of longer days and the gradual arrival of spring. The celebrations are somber, for the Ffolk know that many months need pass before the sun returns with enough strength to drive winter from the land.
The nights of the full moon are the times when the goddess’s power is at its height, but these are also the times when her world is most chaotic. Through the Moonwells and the druids, she has the might necessary to control the Balance, but she also faces some of her gravest threats. Lycanthropy, in particular, grows into its most dangerous manifestations during the periods of the full moon.
The vehicles through which the goddess sends her power to the world, and through which her druids perceive her needs, are the Moonwells. These precious pools of clear water are located throughout most of the isles, but are most common on Gwynneth and Alaron. The waters of the Moonwells have several beneficial properties that are known to the druids alone. The water, when drunk directly from the Moonwell by a character’s cupped hands, serves as a potion of healing. This effect can benefit a character only once per day. If the character drinking the water has acted in a way that threatened the Balance within the month prior to drinking, the water actually sickens him, inflicting 1d8 points of damage.
Examples of actions that endanger the Balance include slaying animals without putting the meat and skin to good use, chopping down living trees for any reason, or initiating attacks against peaceful beings. Characters who entered a dungeon to punish a group of raiding goblins would not imperil the Balance, but those searching for treasure and attack goblins in their lairs to gain this treasure would not benefit from the favor of the goddess.
When a druid bears a rod, staff, or other chargeable magical item, a Moonwell can be used to recharge that item. The druid must dip the staff into the well at midnight, under the light of a full moon, and cast a shillelagh spell at the same time. The staff will receive 1d6 charges from the power of the water. This recharging can only be performed once a month, and a given druid can only recharge one item per month.
The druids earn these benefits, however, for without their tending the Moonwells would cease to hold their power. On some of the northern isles, where the northmen have already driven the Ffolk and the druids away, the Moonwells have dried up, or become stagnant, or merely turned into mundane wells. This is one cause of the waning of the goddess's power.
Each Moonwell is entrusted to the care of a druid of at least 12th level. A great portion of that druid’s activities involve the ritual care and cleansing of the Moonwell.
Animals of the isles, when they are injured or sick, often seek out the Moonwells. Sometimes, the healing strength of the water will bring the creature back to a state of health; other times the waters peacefully put the suffering creature out of its misery. Those animals that die at the shore of the Moonwell are taken by the water quickly and cleanly, leaving no carcass to decay and pollute.
The animals of the Moonshaes are favored creatures of the goddess. The majestic deer she regards fondly, and the sly old trout is another of her favorites. The rare faerie dragons that buzz through her wildest forests give her great delight.
The goddess is nearly immortal -- as immortal as the land that is her body. She is not given gaming statistics as she does not interact with the creatures of the world in a way that would make such stats meaningful. She has agents, however, that can perform such interaction -- creatures of might, and timeless grace, who prowl her surface and seek to further her ends. These are detailed here. Unlike the goddess herself, her agents can kill and can be killed.
These agents are the children of the goddess.

The Children

The children of the goddess take three forms upon the face of the Moonshaes. These forms (Leviathan, Wolf Pack, and Unicorn) are not immortal, though their favored status empowers them far beyond the norm for their types of creatures.
These mortal aspects of the goddess grow old and die, as is ordained for all of the animals of the world. Yet their spirit and the favor of the goddess lives on in their line. Thus, when Kamerynn the unicorn, proud son of the goddess, meets his mortal end, another unicorn, somewhere among the wilds of the Moonshaes, will assume the mantle and serve his mother for the remainder of his mortal existence.
Thus, the three children of the goddess are immortal in a sense, but the creatures themselves have game statistics and can serve as allies or antagonists for the player characters.
Though her children are mortal, the loss of one of these mortal bodies is a grievous blow to the strength of the goddess; their deaths are not things to be taken lightly. The passing of any one of them is a tragic occasion, to be marked by natural phenomena such as meteor showers, savage storms or unnaturally placid weather, a blight upon the area where the child of the goddess perished, or other supernatural special effects.
Each of these children is detailed separately, but they have this in common. Should one of them die, it will take some time for the spirit to find a new body. This time period varies for each of the children.

Leviathan, The Old One

The cool waters pressed heavily against the floor of the sea, far out of range of the sun's warmth. Here the world knew neither winter nor summer, day nor night. There was only the darkness, the eternal darkness that cloaked a region nearly devoid of life.
Yet the goddess's call reached through the pressure of the depths, persistently nudging at the one of her children who slept here. At first, the message was ignored, and the one who was called slept on. Another century or more might pass before the creature stirred.
But the call of the mother was relentless, and finally a hulking form stirred in the deep silt of the sea bottom. Shrugging its giant body free from the clutching muck, the creature rose from the bottom and floated, nearly motionless, in the depths. Time passed, and the form slowly sank toward the bottom again.
But the goddess prodded gently at her huge child. The great head swung slowly from side to side, and powerful flukes pushed hard against the sea bottom. A mighty tail thrust downward, and the body flexed along its vast length.
Then it began to move, slowly at first, but gaining an awesome momentum. The flukes plowed the water with solid authority, and the broad tail pushed with unstoppable force. Higher, toward the realms of light, sun, and current, the creature moved.
It gathered speed as it rose, and energy seemed to build in the mighty body. A stream of bubbles flowed from the wide mouth, trickling around layers of huge teeth and seeming to flow downward along the huge body.
The water ahead grew brighter, until the creature saw a pale gray glow spread across the upper reaches of the sea. The grayness became blue, and finally even the sun came into view, a shimmering yellow dot viewed through the filter of the sea.
The body broke the surface of the water with explosive force, sending a shower of brine through the air in all directions, High, and impossibly higher, the creature rose into the air, and still more of its length emerged from the frothing sea. Water spilled from the black skin in thundering cascades, until finally the great head slowed, and paused for an instant.
With a crash that rocked the sea for miles around, the body fell back to the surface. Waves exploded outward from the falling body with enough force to capsize a large ship. But the horizon was empty of either land or sail. There was none to see that the Leviathan had awakened.

-- From Darkwalker on Moonshae

The Leviathan is a great whale, vaster even than the largest whales that are known to live in our own world. A peaceful creature, it spends long years in hibernation at the bottom of the sea, reaching a state of virtually suspended animation. After many years of sleep, the creature will stir gradually, surfacing for air and then swimming about the isles, perhaps striking out along the length of the Sword Coast, or entering the Shining Sea, as it gratifies its tremendous appetite with plankton, kelp, and small fish. Unless it is called upon by the mother to fulfill a purpose, meeting some dire danger with its enormous might, the Leviathan returns once again to its blissful and nearly eternal slumber.
Leviathan
FREQUENCY: Unique
NO. APPEARING: 1
ARMOR CLASS: 4
MOVE: 24''
HIT DICE: 48
Hit Points: 250
% IN LAIR: 80%
TREASURE TYPE: Nil
NO. OF ATTACKS: 2
DAMAGE/ATTACK: 6d10/1d100
SPECIAL ATTACKS: Tail
SPECIAL DEFENSES: Nil
MAGIC RESISTANCE: 30%
INTELLIGENCE: Low
ALIGNMENT: Neutral
SIZE: L (360 feet long)
PSIONIC ABILITY: Nil
The Leviathan, though generally placid, is a creature of tremendous power. Its wide mouth is lined, not with soft balleen, but with razor-sharp teeth. It is capable of destroying a good-sized ship with a single bite. Its tail is also a formidable weapon and can easily crush the life out of any surface creature caught in its mighty blow.
The Leviathan will rarely make an unprovoked attack. However, as fish are the mainstay of its existence, if it encounters a fishing boat at work, there is a 10% chance that the mighty creature attacks and destroys the vessel. It always fights to defend itself, if attacked by foolish sailors. In addition, it always comes to the aid of any whales that are being hunted within 20 miles of the Leviathan's location -- the keening cries of such whales alert the creature and send it unerringly to their location. However, given the vastness of the
ocean and the Leviathan's penchant for long periods of sleep, there is a less than 1% chance (call it 1% for game purposes) that it hears the cries of hunted whales or encounters a fishing boat at work.
The Leviathan's favored method of attack is to surge upward from the depths and crush a ship between its widespread jaws as it breaks the surface. Sailors on the vessel have a base 10% chance of escaping the creature’s maw and falling into the sea; this chance increases by 2% for every foot away from the midship line (the point exactly halfway between the bow and the stern) of the sailor’s position. Thus, a sailor in the bow of a 60-foot boat is 30 feet from the midship line and has a 70% (30 × 2 = 60% + the base 10%) chance of falling free.
Characters falling into the whale’s mouth have a 50% chance of either getting bit (for 6d10 hit points of damage) or of falling unscathed down the creature ’s gullet. Once swallowed, a character suffers 1d6 points of damage per round from the beast’s digestive juices. A character can carve his way out of the Leviathan by inflicting 125 points of damage with an edged weapon. There is a 10% chance, anytime a blow inside the Leviathan strikes for 10 points or more, that the whale regurgitates the contents of its stomach, spewing characters and everything else back out of its mouth. Of course, there is a 50% chance that the leviathan is anywhere from 10-1000 (1d100 × 10) feet below the surface when it does so.
If the swallowed individuals succeed in lighting a fire inside the creature, there is a 50% chance that it will retch them out.
The tail of the Leviathan is 60 feet wide and can be used to strike a different target than the mouth. The tail is most effective against targets on the surface of the water, inflicting 1d100 points of damage to every individual within the path of the tail on a successful hit.
The Leviathan's gravest weakness is its vulnerability to pollution and poison. Hits with poisoned weapons do not require the beast to save, but they inflict 10 times the normal damage for that weapon. In an area where the water has been clouded with offal or the decay of dead bodies (near a busy port, for example), the Leviathan suffers 1 point of damage per turn spent in such water. This damage can be repaired at the rate of 1 point per day that the Leviathan spends in clean water.
If the Leviathan is slain, his place as the oldest child of the goddess will not be filled for 1d10 × 10 years. When another whale assumes this place, he is only half the size of the original Leviathan, requiring many centuries to mature to the size and might of his predecessor.
The Leviathan has swallowed many a ship, with its contents, over the centuries. Its stomach now holds quite a large trove of undigestible treasure—coins, gems, and jewelry. This includes 1d6 × 1000 pieces of each type of coin, 1d100 gems, worth 30d6 gp each, and 3d20 pieces of jewelry worth 1d8 × 100 gp each.

Kamerynn, the Unicorn

The mistletoe rustled, spreading to allow the great white head to emerge. The head shook, and a satiny mane fluttered through the air and came to rest upon the snowy neck. The branches of mistletoe snapped as the rest of the powerful body emerged from the shady bower.
Hooves, shanked with fur also white as snow, stepped gingerly among the wild flowers, crushing none, as the creature walked to the nearby pool. Bending his neck downward until the long horn broke the surface into a series of ripples, the unicorn drank deeply Still sleepy Kamerynn the unicorn raised his head and looked around the grove. The grasses underfoot tasted sweet, and he ate heartily of the most succulent shoots. The beams of brilliant sunlight penetrated the leafy canopy in several places, creating dazzling shafts of yellow.
Slowly the unicorn grazed and drank, recovering his strength after the long sleep. The goddess had awakened him for a purpose, he knew, and that purpose would no doubt require strength and endurance. With majestic grace, the animal moved through the thick patches of clover.
Suddenly the waters of the Moonwell swirled, whispering slightly. Kamerynn stared at the milky pool until he understood his task. The unicorn raised his head and trotted toward the pristine and pastoral forests of Myrloch Vale. After several minutes, Kamerynn began to canter, and then to gallop. Soon he raced like a ghost through winding pathways. All the lesser beasts shrank from his path at his thundering approach. His ivory horn held high, and his mighty hooves carefully avoiding the rarer plants, the unicorn raced to answer the call of the earthmother.

-- From Darkwalker on Moonshae

There are several unicorns among the lands of the Ffolk, and they roam the wild places of Alaron and Gwynneth. The mightiest of these is Kamerynn, who reigns as king of the wilderness, the proud child of the goddess herself.
Swift and stalwart, the unicorn races across the wilds of Gwynneth, fearing no creature in nature. Taller and stronger than any other of his breed, Kamerynn symbolizes, to the FFolk and the druids, all that is good and free and wild.
Kamerynn, Large Male Unicorn
FREQUENCY: Unique
NO. APPEARING: 1
ARMOR CLASS: 0
MOVE: 27”
HIT DICE: 8 + 8
Hit Points: 47
% IN LAIR: 20%
TREASURE TYPE: Nil
NO. OF ATTACKS: 3
DAMAGE/ATTACK: 1d12/1d12/1d20
SPECIAL ATTACKS: Charge
SPECIAL DEFENSES: See Below
MAGIC RESISTANCE: 40% & See Below
INTELLIGENCE: High

ALIGNMENT Chaotic Good SIZE: L

PSIONIC ABILITY: Nil
This mighty creature is a formidable foe (or ally) in combat. When charging he strikes with his horn for double damage, forgoing the hoof attacks. He is immune to poison and can sense the approach of an enemy up to 36” away. He moves so silently that he surprises opponents 90% of the time.
Kamerynn has the dimension door ability of the unicorn, blinking up to 36'' away and carrying his rider. He will only consent to a rider who is a maiden of pure heart, and who has received a special blessing of the goddess. He makes saving throws as a magicuser of 13th level, and cannot be charmed or held by magic. He is immune to death magic.
Kamerynn dwells in a shady bower near the center of Gwynneth, protected by a high hedge of mistletoe. The bower is centered in a high grove of oak and aspen trees, with a small Moonwell near its center. Although he is very old, he has not begun to lose his strength or his senses. When he does, a younger unicorn will peacefully assume the mantle of the honored child of the goddess. If Kamerynn is slain, this transition does not occur for 1d6 years.

The Pack

The Pack a wakened to the cold, white glare of the full moon. Gray and shaggy forms emerged from a hundred dens, shaking the weariness of a long hibernation from stiffened muscles and sleep-clouded brains.
A large male raised his voice to the moon in a long, ululating howl. Others joined in, first a few, but then hundreds. As one creature, the Pack raised its voice to the heavens, singing the praises of the goddess.
And then a breeze carried to the large male the scent of a stag, somewhere not far away in the misty night. Patches of fog drifted among the towering pines, but bright moonlight illuminated the clearings and high places as the wolf searched for the source of the scent.
Others picked up the spoor, smelling blood, and meat, and fear. The baying of the Pack dropped lower, and took on a deeper tone of menace. Slowly, like gray ghosts, the wolves began to lope through the forest, gaining speed as alertness returned. The stag turned fear-maddened eyes toward its deadly pursuers and then fled—a flight that could have only one consequence, as the Pack spread out and began to close upon its prey.
Once again, after a century of sleep, the mighty wolves of the Pack sang to their prey. The song was ancient, and piercingly beautiful. It was a song of the glory of the goddess, and of the might of her children.
But above all, it was a song of death.

--From Darkwalker on Moonshae

Small packs of dire wolves are not uncommon in the wilderness of the Moonshaes. These ferocious predators kill swiftly and ruthlessly, tearing the raw meat eagerly from the bones of their prey. Unwary humans are apt to fall into this category.
These wolves are territorial creatures, and snarling fights erupt should two packs enter the same area. When the goddess chooses to awaken the Pack, however, the territories of the individual groups merge into one. The largest male assumes leadership of the Pack, without a challenge. Many hundreds of wolves will join together and lope across the land, serving the will of the goddess.
As time passes, the Pack grows in size until it becomes an unstoppable force. The will of the goddess must remain strong, however, to bind the wolves together, or the unnatural grouping will dissolve.
Most of the wolves of the Pack are dire wolves, and should be treated as such for game purposes. The male who rules the Pack is an unusually large specimen, for the might of the goddess runs fiercely within him.
Leader of the Pack
FREQUENCY: Unique
NO. APPEARING: 1
ARMOR CLASS: 4
MOVE: 24''
HIT DICE: 6 + 6
Hit Points: 42
% IN LAIR: 15%
TREASURE TYPE: Nil
NO. OF ATTACKS: 1
DAMAGE/ATTACK: 2d6
SPECIAL ATTACKS: Hamstring
SPECIAL DEFENSES: Nil
MAGIC RESISTANCE: 20%
INTELLIGENCE: Average
ALIGNMENT: Neutral
SIZE: L
PSIONIC ABILITY: Nil
When the Pack forms, it becomes the most efficient killer on the Moonshaes -- perhaps the most efficient anywhere in the Realms. The Leader uses the wolves like soldiers, dispersing them to cover vast areas, but calling them together when prey is sighted.
In the chase, the Pack is unerringly patient. No matter how far or fast the quarry runs, the wolves of the Pack keep pace. And sooner or later the prey can no longer run, and will turn to face the onrushing tide, and will die.
In a sense, the Pack is the most immortal of all the children of the goddess, for if the Leader is slain, the next largest male immediately steps into the role, utilizing the same attributes listed above for the Leader.
The Pack will form upon the command of the goddess, as the wolves awaken from a winter's hibernation. Whatever instinctive urge this creates, it compels them to join into a large group as soon as they awaken. At this point, the Pack numbers 300-600 individuals. This awakening occurs 1d4 weeks after the spring equinox.
The Pack remains in constant motion, always seeking prey. It avoids human habitations almost completely, however, as the Leader seems to sense that it will not further the cause of the Balance by striking at farming communities and woodsmen's cottages. While it roams, the Pack gains 1d100 wolves per week, until the summer solstice. It remains together as long as it is needed, or until the autumnal equinox sends the wolves back to their winter dens, but the Pack does not grow in size after Midsummer.
The Pack's most significant weakness is the vulnerability of the Leader, for if he can be replaced or controlled by an external force, the Pack will follow whatever course the controlling force sets down for it.

Forces of Evil

Black waters swirled and parted, and the form of the Beast rose from the still coolness of the Darkwell. Massive and tight-knit trailing vines crowded close, but the broad, scaly body thrust the interfering plants aside like blades of grass.
Kazgoroth moved slowly, reveling in this new freedom. The Darkwell had served its purpose, for the monster felt power coursing hotly through its body as never before in its long centuries of existence. The Beast allowed a trickle of acidic saliva to drool from its widespread jaws. Turning its hot, fiery eyes to the pool, it watched the thick waters of the Darkwell bubble in its wake.
Pulling its feet from the sucking mud, the creature pushed its way into the fens. Tree trunks snapped like brittle twigs as broad shoulders pushed them from its path. A heavy, clawed foot squashed flowers, insects, and rodents with equal lack of note. The sounds of cracking limbs, crushed vegetation, and sticky mud slurping with each mighty footfall shot violently through the wood. Wildlife shrank from the path of the Beast, racing in terror or cowering in abject fear until the monster passed.
Dawn colored the sky as Kazgoroth moved west. Now the chill reflection of the sea came in to sight, stretching a way to the horizon and beyond. But the monsters goal was much closer than the horizon, or even the sea.
Before the waters stood a small castle, and Kazgoroth knew that humans in abundance would lair here. Before the castle spread broad fields, covered with tents and banners and stirring with activity and life.
To this field Kazgoroth moved.

-- From Darkwalker on Moonshae

The goddess holds dear the Balance of nature upon her lands, fully aware that there are forces arrayed before her who would seek to do grave harm to that Balance. Too numerous to count are the petty monsters and avaricious kings who kill for the joy of causing death. Not so numerous, but equally threatening, are the builders and tamers of the land, those who seek to bring order out of the ordained chaos of nature. They cut down the trees of the goddess's forest and fill her skies with the black smoke of coal fires.
But neither of these extremes presents a menace that equals the ageold enemy of the earthmother. Though it stalks the land only rarely, its menace extends to far greater heights than those of any of the other enemies faced by the goddess.
This enemy is Kazgoroth, the Beast. Together with its minions, the Beast seeks to kill and destroy across the face of the Moonshaes, taking particular pleasure in profaning the places of most sacred beauty.
Kazgoroth does not work alone when it wages its war against the goddess. Instead, the Beast uses its potent magical abilities to enlist the aid of many henchmen, often using former allies of the goddess herself. The Beast delights in nothing more than the corruption of a druid to its evil purposes.
Kazgoroth
FREQUENCY: Unique
NO. APPEARING: 1
ARMOR CLASS: 0
MOVE: 12''
HIT DICE: 16
Hit Points: 120
% IN LAIR: 0
TREASURE TYPE: See Below
NO. OF ATTACKS: 3
DAMAGE/ATTACK: 1d12/1d12/3d10
SPECIAL ATTACKS: See Below
SPECIAL DEFENSES: See Below
MAGIC RESISTANCE: 60%
INTELLIGENCE: High
ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Evil
SIZE: L (18 feet tall)
PSIONIC ABILITY: Nil
The origins of Kazgoroth lurk in the past, nearly as distant as those of the goddess herself. In the pantheon of the Realms, the Beast is manifested as an aspect of Malar (MAY-larr), the Beastlord. On the Moonshaes, however, this aspect has a specific purpose: the disruption of the Balance.
The Beast is a formidable foe in combat, yet whenever possible it seeks to do battle through shrewdness and trickery rather than straightforward melee. When fighting in its true form, Kazgoroth attacks with its clutching foreclaws and vicious bite. It can, at the same time, swing its tail around to strike a foe behind it for 1d6 points of damage. A person thus struck must make a Dexterity Check with a -5 penalty, or be knocked from his feet. He can do nothing the following round except stand.
Kazgoroth can only be struck by magical weapons of +2 or greater enchantment. Its magic resistance applies to all magic-user and clerical spells; it has no magic resistance against druidical spells.
Kazgoroth can change shape at will, shrinking its body down to halfling size at the minimum. It cannot assume a form larger than its own -- but then, it doesn't really need to! It has a number of special abilities.
The Beast can cause lycanthropy with its bite, if it chooses to do so. It can detect magic and detect invisibility in a 24'' radius at will. It can cast a permanent charm upon a victim at a range of 1'' or less. A side effect of this charm is that the victim must roll a successful saving throw vs. spell each week or lose a point of Charisma permanently (to a minimum of 3). Once per week it can cast a death spell at a character of 7th level or lower.
The Beast has a unique ability to perform a corrupted type of mass charm spell, creating for itself a band of fanatically loyal undead troops known as Blood Warriors. A unit of soldiers, up to 500 individuals, can be thus corrupted as long as the unit has a strong commander to serve as the Beast's lieutenant. The game stats of the Blood Warriors follow this description.
Kazgoroth draws power from the goddess herself and thus chooses as a resting place a Moonwell that has been polluted or otherwise desecrated. The Beast is the lord of the Firbolgs and will often order a band of these giants to guard its well, and perhaps to pollute it, while it rests and gains power. If Kazgoroth is slain by any means other than the Sword of Cymrych Hugh, it will return within 3d6 years. If this sword is used to kill it, and the remains of the beast are burned to ashes, it is rumored that it can be destroyed permanently.
Blood Warriors
FREQUENCY: Rare
NO. APPEARING: 50-500
ARMOR CLASS: 2
MOVE: As When Alive
HIT DICE: 8
Hit Points: 40 each
% IN LAIR: Nil
TREASURE TYPES: As When Alive
NO. OF ATTACKS: 1
DAMAGE/ATTACK: 1d10
SPECIAL ATTACKS: Nil
SPECIAL DEFENSES: Nil
MAGIC RESISTANCE: Nil
INTELLIGENCE: Low
ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Evil
SIZE: M
PSIONIC ABILITY: Nil
The Blood Warriors are a type of undead soldier corrupted from normal human warriors by Kazgoroth’s power. They are fanatically loyal, never check morale, and rejoice in killing. The Beast can create one such unit each time it emerges from hibernation to stalk the land.
The Blood Warriors begin to decay rapidly, resembling zombies as their skin and flesh rots away. Their fiery red eyes distinguish them from other undead, however.
Blood Warriors must kill in order to retain their strength. All Blood Warriors start with 40 hit points. Each Blood Warrior loses 5 hit points for every week since the troop's last kill of a human or humanoid. When a Blood Warrior dies, each of the remaining warriors loses 1 hit point. To regain hit points, the Blood Warriors must kill. For every victim killed by a Blood War rior, each member of the troop gains 1 hit point.
A Blood Warrior's hit points can never exceed 64. If his hit points drop to 0, he dies. No matter how many hit points a Blood Warrior has, he always attacks as an 8th-level fighter.
Blood Warriors have a haste ability that they can employ before entering battle. To gain this power, there must be a ritual slaying of humans or demihumans, and the fresh blood must be used to anoint the warriors. The leader of the unit must perform the ritual. This has the effects of a haste spell with a duration of 1d4 turns.