"Mouldy, Grumpy, and Undead All Over" (Or: The Troll Who Just Wouldn’t Bugger Off)
by Reverend Dungeon MasterLocation:
The basement of a ruined tower suspiciously labelled “Definitely Not the Secret Lair of Grolmorr the Undying.”
What the Players See:
The dungeon corridor reeks of vinegar, mildew, and failed ambition. At the end stands a crooked throne made of bones, broken furniture, and at least one toilet seat. Sitting atop it is a hulking creature in a wizard’s robe three sizes too small, crowned with a tarnished chamber pot.
He raises a skeletal hand and says, “BEHOLD! I am Grolmorr, the Troll-Lich! Terror of the North, Inventor of the Self-Stirring Cauldron, and Unpaid Library Fine Fugitive! You face DOOM!”
He promptly sneezes out a femur.
WHO IS GROLMORR?
Grolmorr was once a dim-witted troll who tried to become immortal by eating a lich. Unfortunately, he misunderstood the scroll and just sort of absorbed the lich’s personality, necromantic power, and lactose intolerance. Now he’s undead, incredibly petty, and refuses to leave his lair because “the stairs are drafty.”
ROLEPLAYING GROLMORR THE TROLL-LICH
Constantly mutters about how today’s adventurers have no respect.
Calls his throne “The Bone Throne” but admits it’s mostly IKEA parts and wishful thinking.
Cannot stop regenerating, even bits he doesn’t want. (“Oh look. My appendix again.”)
Offers villainous monologues that go on far too long. (“...And then in the Year of the Flatulent Crow, I stubbed my toe. That’s when I knew, immortality was the only way.”)
THE FIGHT BEGINS WHEN...
The players insult his crown.
Someone questions his PhD in “Theoretical Doomology.”
They touch his collection of cursed garden gnomes.
STAT BLOCK – Grolmorr the Troll-Lich
AC: 16 (Robes of Faded Dignity)
HP: 120 (and then again... and again...)
Abilities:
Troll Regeneration (Reanimated Edition): Regains 10 HP at the start of his turn unless he took fire and acid damage. If so, he sulks instead.
Finger of Dreadful Hygiene: +7 to hit, 3d8 necrotic damage, target must make a CON check or smell like bin juice for 1d6 hours.
Undead Guff: Once per combat, Grolmorr exhales a fetid cloud (15 ft cone). All creatures must succeed on a CON check or be poisoned and deeply offended for 1 minute.
Passive Aggression Aura: Any creature within 10 feet has -2 disadvantage on saving throws due to incessant passive-aggressive muttering. (“Oh no, don’t worry about me being undead or anything.”)
TACTICS:
Starts strong, then spends three rounds complaining about his back.
Tries to guilt the party into surrendering. (“You think I wanted to be a lich? I wanted to be a pastry chef!”)
If someone offers tea and sympathy, he will not fight and will instead complain for two solid hours.
TREASURE:
The Robes of Repetitive Resurrection (smell awful, grant +1 to AC, and cause the wearer (if dead) to return to life once per week at the worst possible moment).
The Crown of Delusion (actually a chamber pot, but the wearer is convinced it grants wisdom).
Grolmorr’s Memoirs, Vol 1–14. Worth 5gp each if you find someone with insomnia.
IF THE PLAYERS WIN:
Grolmorr explodes into regenerating goo, then leaves a sticky note that reads:
“Be back Tuesday. Bring biscuits.”
IF THE PLAYERS LOSE:
They awake in his lair, gagged, covered in glitter, and forced to listen to his 4-hour musical, “Lich Me Baby One More Time.”
For more dungeon delving nonsense visit Red Cape Games, home of Dungeon Dunce Weekly.