Myconids of Mystara
by Cab Davidson from Threshold Magazine issue 28
From the journal of Averyx, Immortal of Time, finder of lost Gods and patron of the Alphatian Expansionist Movement.
Myconid
by Jeffrey Kosh
(https://jeffreykosh.wixsite.com/jeffreykoshgraphics/home)
Regarding Myconids, Part 1
The idea of intelligent mushroom people seems peculiar, I know. Intelligent flying monkeys, vulture-headed sorcerers, bipedal cats, everyone is fine with those. Even halflings don't spark disbelief, and they seem most unlikely. But mushroom people, for some reason that's a step too far for most Mystarans. And it's a shame, because in some ways they're the most interesting of life forms upon that world.
I first encountered myconids in the memory files of a lost Mek that drifted into Old Alphatian space before the Great War. The Mek had extensive information on tall, intelligent, tree-like fungi referred to as Entonids that had resisted the onslaught of early intelligent species such as Hallucigenia and Carnifex. Sort of like the treants of the modern era, but even more resilient and considered in their approach to life. The Carnifex defeated the Entonids, but unusually for them failed to wipe them out entirely. After the Carnifex wars on nearly everything, the Entonids were among the few surviving races.
While they were able to survive the devastating releases of radiance energy that typified the Carnifex era, they were not immune, and within a few short millennia they mutated into a bewildering array of species colonising almost every corner of the globe, making for a short but spectacularly strange Myconid Era.
Eventually the myconid hegemony succumbed to faster, more adaptable animals. They were simply unable to change at the speed that Mystara was, with new intelligent life forms arising after the Carnifex era. The resistance to change that allowed them to survive the Canifex doomed them as ever more adaptable creatures came into being.
Myconoids (the parent organism from which the myconids grow), are not strictly speaking mortal. I don't mean they're immortal like us, nor that they're of the fey persuasion and just keep coming back. I mean that the organism itself, the central intelligence, is so spectacularly huge and long living that it hasn't even got a concept of mortality or immortality. Did you have a fight with those mushroom-men? Did you kill them? All of them? Are you sure? Sorry, you're wrong, you no more killed the myconoid than you would have killed an oak tree by picking its acorns. In fact to kill the myconoid you would have to extract all of the loose earth and rocks from about a square mile of cave complex, for that is where the bulk of the organism, with an infinitely dispersed intellect, resides. But this lack of mortality meant that no myconoid ever rose to challenge the immortals or to seek immortal status, which made the early kinds easy prey for Carnifex before the differentiation of mortal and immortal realms was defined. So as the other races, with their immortal patrons, grew stronger and inhabited ever more niches within the world, the myconoids have retreated ever further, and now really only dominate spaces that the most hardened humanoids fear to tread.
There are four common species of myconoid still found in the darkest parts of the world. And there may be anything up to 400 mature individuals of each species, and many tens of thousands of immature specimens. Each individual can produce many thousands of mushroom-men (they are not, of course, men or women) which are referred to as myconids (as opposed to the greater organism, called a myconoid). Myconids are loyal to their parent myconoid, but not unquestioningly so; they are not drones. They are instructed by the myconoid using chemical signals, and while they typically obey they may also choose not to, if that seems prudent. Thus they work well together, to fulfil the goals of the overall organism, without falling into the group-think malaise that inhibited so many of the most primitive collective intelligences in the early days of Mystara.
Myconoid species have good relations with each other, but their interactions with other of the deepest denizens of the world are more complex.
The Common Myconids
Pilobolus
by
Jeffrey Kosh
(https://jeffreykosh.wixsite.com/jeffreykoshgraphics/home)
Pilobolus
Armour Class: 7
Hit Dice: 2**
Move: 90'(30')
Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: By weapon or 8d6
Number Appearing: 1d6 (40d10)
Save As: Fighter 2
Morale: 8 (12)
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 8
Alignment: Lawful
XP Value: 30
The pilobolus is both the friendliest and among the most dangerous of myconoids. Each overall organism inhabits a deep, wet cave, usually one into which a modicum of organic matter leaches into from the surface world. They are at heart a well-meaning people, with each myconoid creating countless myconids to do their bidding, typically to explore and clean neighbouring caves to bring back nutrients for the parent organism. They are not warlike, they do not seek conquest, they merely seek to exist.
They would be unremarkable except for their peculiar jelly-like heads. Each pilobolus myconoid resembles a spindly, pale, 4′-tall humanoid with a colossal jelly-like head and a dark black cap on top. This head forms one massive eye with light of all frequencies focusing on the dark lining at the base of it, giving the pilobolus myconid the most remarkable eyesight in the fungal kingdom—they have perfect (120') infravision and can see all invisible creatures.
For most of its life a pilobolus myconid will feel no urge to act in any way other than as a servant of the myconoid mycelium, but upon reaching a final level of maturity they have an urge to settle somewhere near an outer cave and wait, as a standing guard and as the means by which the myconoid reproduces. This is the time when the physiology of their extraordinary heads comes into play. They are light sensitive, and upon exposure to any light brighter than a torchlight (so either a lantern or any magical light source) within 90', they point their heads towards the source and literally explode, flinging sticky fragments of their spore-laden head caps at the light. Fragments invariably stick to the target, turning it into a vector to distribute those spores.
At any age, however, a myconid can use this same ability to devastating effect. When cornered with no other options a pilobolus myconid can exploit any light source within 90' and point its head at any target within 120', to choose to explode in a targeted attack. This is lethal to the myconid in question, but by weaponising their spore hat they can (if a normal hit roll succeeds) inflict 8d6 hp of damage to a single target.
When protecting their home myconoid, pilobolus myconids have a morale of 12 and will freely sacrifice themselves. Otherwise, if on a foraging mission gathering nutrients for example, they have a morale of 8.
Pilobolus myconoids are not avaricious but they understand that other creatures value treasure and are fully aware of the worth of objects they find. Over their incalculable lifespans they will gather anything shiny or valuable that they can find, and freely exchange it for information, nutrition or protection. Pilobolus have excellent relations with Shadow Elves, who view them as handy cohabitees in the darker corners of the underground world, their sentries exploding if anything that relies on having a light source comes too close. But many other monstrous humanoids see the myconids as prey, hunting them to extract the water-rich jelly from their heads.
Omphalotus
Armour Class: 5
Hit Dice: 1**
Move: 120'(40')
Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: By weapon or blindness
Number Appearing: 1d10 (40d10)
Save As: Fighter 1
Morale: 8 (12)
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 10
Alignment: Neutral
XP Value: 16
Omphalotus are tall, slender myconids who seem to be almost entirely constructed of mushroom gills. When not in motion they can be mistaken for 6′-tall yellow mushrooms with gills running down to their base. When they start to stir it becomes apparent that their body is divided into long arms and legs, with 7 ridiculously small eyes all around their upper parts. They are typically genial, friendly and on the whole entirely disinterested in the conflicts of other races, and they try to maintain good relations with different species of myconoids and other humanoids wherever they encounter them. They usually inhabit caves closer to the Hollow World than the Outer World, but they do encounter both Shadow Elves and Schattenalfen. The former view them as curiosities and trade freely with them, but the latter view them as dangerous adversaries, and with good reason.
Omphalotus myconids are masters of the production and use of light. While they can learn the vocal languages of others, and while communication from their master myconoid is in the form of chemical signals, their own communication is made up of light signals. They can make their gills glow in a bewildering array of colours, and this is both their own language and their primary means of defence. By illuminating caverns with dim ultraviolet light, they can see perfectly well while other creatures struggle to make anything out at all. And by releasing bright flashes in visible and infrared light they can confuse and blind opponents.
When fighting, omphalotus will initially try to blind opponents. Anyone fighting omphalotus must make a saving throw vs. wands each round for the first 3 rounds of combat. Any failed save will render the target blind for 3d6 rounds, as the bright, rhythmic flashes of light they produce dazzle them. For the remainder of the fight any group of omphalotus of more than 4 will coordinate their light attacks to produce a confusion attack – each round from the 4th any creature within 30' of the omphalotus myconids must make saving throw vs. spells or suffer a confusion effect, until fewer than 4 omphalotus remain active.
Ompalotus and pilobolus occasionally have overlapping territories, and they can learn to coordinate the explosive attacks of pilobolus with the light output of omphalotus to target foes at a great (up to 120') distance, with devastating effect.
Omphalotus myconids have a morale of 8, unless defending their parent myconoid territory, when they will unquestioningly fight to the death.
Coprid
Coprids
Armour Class: 9
Hit Dice: 7*
Move: 60'(20')
Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: By weapon+1 or poison
Number Appearing: 1d8 (20d10)
Save As: Fighter 1
Morale: 8 (12)
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 9
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 850
Typically inhabitants of shallow caves, especially numerous in the Broken Lands but found all over Mystara, the coprids appear to be completely harmless. They are tall (8'-9') white, shaggy creatures with legs completely covered by tall, almost tubular caps with domed tops. How they perceive their surroundings is unclear, but they have excellent all-round vision and can hear noise as if a 15th level thief.
Generally speaking, a coprid myconid is a friendly fellow, quite willing to sit and talk with any who pass along their way. They don't seek conflict, and rarely fight anything unless provoked. For as long as you do not appear to be helpless, you are safe from a coprid. However, should you pass out or succumb to any form of paralysis you are in extreme danger—they will, upon finding any helpless creature, perform a coup de grace and carry it back to their home myconoid for digestion.
The coprids are not without blame in creatures passing through their territories becoming helpless. The myconoid constantly produces small (1᳓ to 2᳓), sticky, almost invisible jelly-like balls that contain poison and powerful digestive enzymes. Coprid myconids are immune to this poison, and hide the balls all over their territories and hunting grounds. Anyone passing through coprid territory without any protection from poison is likely to come into contact with such balls. The DM must roll 1d6 every turn that characters are passing through coprid hunting grounds, and on a roll of 1 or 2 the character must make a save vs. poison with a -2 penalty. If they fail, they become paralysed for 1d6 turns, and the digestive enzymes in the ball inflict 1d6 damage to the character per turn. Once two or more members of a party are paralysed, coprid myconids will try to drive any accompanying characters away so that they can take the fallen back to their myconoid.
Coprids consider themselves the guardians of the subterranean fungal forests in which they reside, and while they don't prevent creatures grazing on the other mushrooms (being predators themselves, they understand this) they will aggressively defend their homes from the ingress of dangerous humanoids. Wise orcish chieftains know to lay tribute to the bodies of fallen foes to appease the coprids. The great enemies of the coprids are dwarves, who hunt coprids and invariably try to destroy entire myconoids.
Coprids fight to the death to protect their territories, in which their myconoids reside, but when outside this territory their morale is 8. An old coprid, reaching the end of its life, will plant its toes at the edge of myconoid territory and, over 2-3 days, slowly turn into an inky, wet mass, most of its body transforming into wet, spore-filled ink. This can be used as a component in magical inks, and is sought after by wizards.
Cordyceps
Armour Class: 6
Hit Dice: 1*
Move: 90'(30')
Attacks: 1 fist+special
Damage: 1d2+special
Number Appearing: 1d8 (20d10)
Save As: Fighter 3
Morale: 8 (12)
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 5
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 13
Individually one could be forgiven for thinking that the cordyceps myconid is completely harmless. Thin, orange and black, 5' tall and largely looking like almost insubstantial upright fungal-stick insects, their presence hardly instils fear. They are however one of the most unpleasant predators on Mystara.
An attack from a cordyceps consists of a simple punch, and after striking an opponent most cordyceps retreat, their job done. The victim, as well as taking damage, must make a saving throw vs. death ray. If they fail, they are infected with cordyceps spores.
Initially the victim will feel a little malaise and some nausea, but unless a cure disease spell or similar is cast upon them within 48 hours then their fate is one of subjugation and death. On the third day the victim will feel entirely recovered, prior to, on the fourth day, becoming irreversibly (other than by means of a wish) under the control of the cordyceps myconoid. They will seek out the location of the myconoid, and serve it in whatever way the myconoid finds to be most useful, for up to 3 weeks. After this time they will return to the myconoid, lie down, and die. From their bodies 2d8 new myconids are formed, each reaching maturity 3 weeks later.
The victim will take all of their treasures and any belongings they can carry to the myconoid. On rare occasions if multiple (20+) victims are in thrall to the myconoid at the same time, it may choose to send them to another location where they will die and establish a new myconoid entity, sending more myconids out to find further prey from a new location.
While essentially chaotic creatures, cordyceps are not especially evil. They are merely remorselessly predatory. Thankfully, they shun sunlight and only inhabit the darkest places of Mystara, namely, the caves and caverns shunned even by most other myconids. Other creatures of darkness recognise cordyceps for what they are, and will actively hunt for and burn their myconoids. While they can increase to plague-like numbers in a few short months, they are in a constant struggle for survival against such hunting.
Cordyceps are rare in the caves beneath the Broken Lands and Alfheim, where orcs and Shadow Elves alike make sport of hunting them. But they are far more common in the dark complexes under the Great Escarpment on the Isle of Dawn, and explorers have described infestations of cordyceps among the strange humanoids of Skothar.
Regarding Myconids, Part 2
As I mentioned, I first discovered myconids during my initial investigations of Mystara as a colonisation site for Alphatians after the war. What fascinated me about these strange mushroom-men was their sense of detachment. They represented a midpoint between the absolute single-minded group-think of the earliest life forms, and strength through unity of action of the Carnifex. Or so I thought. Which is why the myconoids were among the first creatures I went looking for on Mystara. I will confess that I was disheartened by how few myconoid species survived to the modern era, but what I discovered when I made contact more than made up for that.
What you may find hardest to understand about the myconoids is that they really don't have a great deal of understanding of the world around them, at least in a way that makes sense to us. One can only communicate with a myconoid by direct mental contact (unless you're keen to learn the intricate details of communicating via auxins and pheromones—which isn't as much fun as it sounds). And when you do so, you will immediately discover that you are dealing with a creature of vast, alien intellect and inventiveness. They get reports from their myconids about dangers and opportunities, and can in response coordinate and control them. But they expend as much effort in a constant struggle with other creatures of the soil—the bugs, worms, other fungi and lower organisms with which they both compete and cooperate with to gather the nutrients they need to survive. And in effect, through those lesser organisms of the earth, they maintain a loose contact with other myconoids both of their own and other species. But this is not in the form of a discussion; it is akin to an endless game of Whisper down the Lane on a global scale. Messages pass across the entire world in a matter of hours, but they are inconstant, incorrect or even completely lacking in meaning by the time they reach any particular recipient. As a result the myconoid lives in a state of perpetual perceived legend, with tales of victories and defeats confused and conflated by passage through lesser minds than theirs.
They have no innate understanding or interest in the matters of the Immortals. The idea that a being may be limited in time is beyond them. The notion of travel itself seems alien to them; they understand that there are living things that do this, but that it happens is as relevant to them as the passage of stars across the sky is to a squirrel.
In other words they are fabulous repositories of incomplete and erroneous history and current world events, yet they know intimately and precisely what is happening in their rhizosphere down to the last microbe or animalcule.
Oh, and you think you know what a big creature is? You don't. Myconoids may grow to any size, being constrained only by the presence of competing organisms in the soil. There are examples that are many tens of miles across. Indeed in my early experiments trying to cajole myconoids to grow and aspire to immortality I transported some to worlds within outer planes, and within a few years, if not faced with competition, they grew to dominate the entire worlds. The only theoretical limit to their expansion and growth is the scale of the celestial body upon which they reside. That potential is humbling, even to an Immortal.
I am honoured to count many myconoids, of many different species, among my friends. It would be wrong to view them as followers or worshippers, they really have no capacity to understand such concepts. Friends who see me as being merely another stranger rumour on the global Myco-web.
The Uncommon Races of Myconids
Marasmian
myconid by Jeffrey Kosh
(https://jeffreykosh.wixsite.com/jeffreykoshgraphics/home)
Marasmian
Armour Class: 4
Hit Dice: 3*
Move: 180'(60')
Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: By weapon or special
Number Appearing: 1d8 (10d10)
Save As: Fighter 3
Morale: 8 (12)
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 12
Alignment: Lawful
XP Value: 50
Marasmians are among the myconids found on the surface of Mystara and indeed in the Hollow World. They are tall (6'-7') pale brown myconids, with spindly bodies, long, thin legs and slender arms, topped with a flattish, gilled cap. To most they give a feeling of geniality, of friendliness, and this comes from having an aeons-long relationship with the fairy folk.
Marasmian myconids grow in circles from a parent marasmian myconoid, which itself takes the form of a ring in a woodland or field. The ring will start small, but over many years can grow to colossal form, many hundreds of yards across. Marasmian myconids appear to grow from small mushrooms to mighty mushroom-men in the space of around a fortnight, typically after extensive rainfall and in warm conditions. After a day, although still bound to the myconoid, they are around 1' tall and sentient, and able to communicate or even defend themselves (in a rudimentary fashion). Upon reaching maturity they wander off and go looking for rotting, decaying vegetation, animal faeces, etc. which they carefully break up and arrange around the outside of their myconoid. Having completed their tasks in daylight, they return to their rings and spend the nights enjoying everything that is good in a mushroom's life, releasing spores, dancing and singing in their circles, and for the most part bringing nothing but joy to those lucky enough to see them. Their delightful performances attract the attention of the fey, and pixies, sprites, and others of the fair folk are often to be found dancing with the marasmians on moonlit nights. Indeed, insomuch as a myconoid can ever make friends with anything, the fey are friends to the marasmians.
If threatened, a marasmian may pick up a weapon and fight. Over many years successive myconids bring weapons back to their myconoid and store them nearby, and aggressors may be surprised by the lethality of their arsenals. While the larger, mature marasmian myconids will typically fight with weapons, any group of more than 6 marasmians (mature or immature) may, each round, cast a special form of the dance spell. Anyone inside the circle of or within 30' of their myconoid must make a saving throw vs. spells or begin to dance in a circle around the ring, being subject to the same detrimental effects of dance as the spell. The group may use their Dance attack every round, in addition to any other attacks they make. The victim may make another saving throw once every 6 rounds, but is immediately vulnerable to the same effect again. The victim will fall to the ground, unconscious and exhausted, after their constitution score in rounds (either continuously or after making a saving throw and failing another subsequent save). Typically marasmian myconids will ignore any dancing enemy and simply back away, continuing to use their dance effect each round until the targets fall to the ground exhausted. Once all enemies are thus captured, the marasmians will search them for anything useful, entertaining or interesting, and carry them to a point at least a mile away, to be deposited in the most humiliating pile they can envisage.
Marasmians are not aggressive or hostile, and cannot easily be provoked into violence. Treasures possessed by the myconoid are buried in the centre of the circle, and will be defended, as will the habitat upon which the marasmians and their fey allies depend. Marasmians will do all they can to avoid a fight, but they will defend their homes and their allies to the death.
Marasmians are now a rare species. Formerly they were common in elven lands such as the Sylvan Realm and Alfheim; now they are restricted to the forests of the Shiye and a few hidden locations in Norwold. In the Hollow World there is rumour of a strange floating island that is sloped to a strange degree, Tir Na Nog, populated solely by marasmians and long lost races of fair folk, living a joyful and oblivious life dancing and drinking ale under the perpetual twilight of a red sun.
Muscarid
Armour Class: 5
Hit Dice: 3**
Move: 120′ (40′)
Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: By weapon+1 or special
Number Appearing: 1d8 (30d10)
Save As: Fighter 3
Morale: 12
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 7
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 65
While most myconids are typically quite placid and, in their own way, friendly, the muscarid is entirely different. They stand around 5' tall, with white bodies that have a frilly veil around their middles, beneath stocky arms, with feet almost in the shape of half egg shells lying on the unbroken end. But it is their big, meaty, red cap specked with raised white spots with white gills on the underside that they are most known for.
Muscarid myconoids are found in the darkest and dankest of all woodlands, where they grow in twisted, misshapen rings around great old trees. Myconids grow from this typically only in late summer and autumn, and after around a week of growth they are ready to stalk the woods and find their prey. That prey is literally anything that moves, and hunting as a pack they can unleash terrible harm on the fauna of the woodland in a very short time. This prey is taken back to the myconoid, stripped of anything of worth, and buried within the circle, where its decomposition feeds the myconoid.
What makes the muscarid dangerous is that they both produce and are infected by certain compounds that affect perception. When a muscarid is provoked to combat it will not back down, hesitate or surrender, and it will continue to fight well past when it has 0 hit points. It must be reduced to -12 hit points (its constitution score) before it stops fighting, it must quite literally be cut apart. But every time a muscarid is wounded it releases some of the same compounds into the air. Anyone in melee combat with a muscarid must, when the muscarid is first wounded and every subsequent round, make a save vs. poison or fall under the influence of potent hallucinogenic compounds for 1d6 turns, during which time they can move at only half speed, and attacks, saving throws and armour class are penalised by 4.
Muscarids do not make allies of other woodland creatures, considering anything that moves therein to be fair game. It is, however, fair to say that some of the darker fey races view them favourably.
Muscarids bury their treasures in hidden locations in the forests, and they value weapons above all other things.
Muscarids are, thankfully, rare, but increasingly common in some parts of Mystara. They were almost unknown in Canolbarth before the Shadow Elven invasion, but have become a serious pest since then. They are also among the more unpleasant predators of Blackheart in Alphatia, and are known to sporadically appear in the great forests of northern Norwold.
Morchellid
Morchellid
Armour Class: 8
Hit Dice: 3* to 3****
Move: 90'(30')
Attacks: 1 weapon or spell
Damage: By weapon or spell
Number Appearing: 1d10 (20d10)
Save As: MU 6
Morale: 6 (12)
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 17
Alignment: Lawful
XP Value: 50-95
Morchellids are by far the most intelligent of all myconids. They are a surprising looking race, resembling a 6'-tall, pock-marked brown mass on ridged, white legs, with arms that seem to be formed of the same brown mass as the head. Almost as if they are massive, brown brains on sticks but with inverted sections rather than ridges. Morchellids are peculiarly curious and intelligent creatures, seeking to bring knowledge of the works of men, elves and all creatures back to their home myconoid, where they spend most of their time converting the information they have found into a chemical form of communication that it can understand.
Troops of morchellids arise early in the year, as the frosts of spring recede, and they possess, from their moment of emergence, an extraordinary ability to learn and cast magical spells. Typically these are well understood by their myconoid, and distributed to each myconid according to their ability to learn. And curiously, the more morchellids are present, the more potent their magics are. Scholars are undecided as to why this should be so. If the morchellids know why, they're not saying. Practically speaking, if under 10 morchellids are present, they each cast spells (50% as magic users, 25% as clerics, 25% as druids) at 1 level of experience per morchellid present. The spells each knows are determined randomly. Per 5 morchellids above 10 present, another level of experience is gained. So for example if there are 30 morchellids present each morchellid can cast spells as a 14th level spellcaster.
They prefer dark places but have no preference for being above or below ground. They have a curious ability to be able to walk on walls and ceilings as if on the ground, and this allows them to make their homes on the ceilings of great caverns of the Broken Lands, the Shadow Elven kingdoms and even on the underside of the floating islands of the Hollow World (from which they may fly or levitate to the surface to explore for information). The morchellid myconoid consumes little, often satisfying itself with the decaying residues of living creatures slowly leaching into their rhizospheres. But their thirst for knowledge is inexhaustible. The Shadow Elves know that the morchellids are harmless and never oppose them, but do trade stories and tales with them. The Schattenalfen, with their characteristic friendliness, pursue morchellids for study, to try to extract their magical potential. Few of the humanoids of the Broken Lands even know the morchellids are there – and the morchellids are happy with that.
Morchellids are never aggressive, preferring to escape from any potential enemies rather than to fight. But like all myconids they will fight to the death to defend their myconoids. They prefer using their magical abilities to misdirect foes, but if necessary will use any offensive magics they possess.
Morchellids hide their treasures in places most accessible to themselves. They frequently construct hollows in the ceilings of great caves, where few other creatures may find them. They favour spellbooks and scrolls above all treasures.
Volvariellid
myconid by Jeffrey Kosh
(https://jeffreykosh.wixsite.com/jeffreykoshgraphics/home)
Volvariellid
Armour Class: 7
Hit Dice: 1+1
Move: 120' (40')
Attacks: 1 weapon
Damage: By weapon +1
Number Appearing: 1d10 (20d10)
Save As: F1
Morale: 12
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 9
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 15
Volvariellid myconids begin their time as small (8” across) egg-shaped balls of fungus, appearing rapidly in fields after grain (wheat, barley, oats, field peas, rice, etc.) harvest, and straw is scattered across the field. The parent myconoid can be many hundreds of yards across, connecting fields separated by hedgerows, patches of woodland, even rivers, and can wait for decades for an opportunity to form myconids. Most years, a tidy farmer will collect up sufficient straw for use in thatching, basket work, ropes and animal bedding etc. such that the myconoid has insufficient to feed on to produce myconids, but on occasion an untidy farmer or an unfortunate set of circumstances will combine such that strewn straw covers the field after harvest, and that is when the volvariellid strikes.
The egg-like structures, called volvas, from which the myconids spring, seem to grow in a matter of hours, and depending on how much straw is present may appear in massive numbers and generate a virtual army of myconids overnight. They are perhaps the most humanoid-like of all myconids, having identifiable heads and faces beneath grey mushroom caps with pink gills. They are short-lived, with a single purpose—to kill.
In truly wild spaces volvariellid myconoids are both rare and benign, producing a few myconids each year who generally keep the wooded pastures in which they reside clean and safe. But farmlands, fertilised with animal manure, are both the ideal location for the myconoid to grow and, through annual ploughing, the most hostile for the growth of their myconids. Over years, indeed over generations, their increase in scale is matched only by their growing resentment. It takes little, merely a slovenly farmer or unfortunate storm to make a crop rot, and volvariellid myconids can rise in frightening numbers to seek revenge.
They attack farms and villages in a coordinated way, using weapons and armour sequestered in oiled rags and sack cloth in hedgerows and under walls for years, arming themselves with more weapons and agricultural tools as they travel. They seek to destroy farms, farmers, their families, labourers and their tools (ploughs, rakes, hoes and spades, anything that moves earth) and to sequester weapons and treasures away for future attacks should their renewed attempt to wipe out local civilisation fail.
Volvariellid myconoids in farmlands cannot be reasoned with. Maddened by years of what they view as agricultural warfare, each believes that only a policy of complete elimination can solve the human problem. They have no allies as such, but clever bands of kobolds have experimented with spreading straw and detritus from hay ricks and straw stacks in the hope of creating chaos—but they have discovered that the volvariellids are not discerning in their all-consuming quest for revenge.
Myconid brute (generic) by Jeffrey Kosh (https://jeffreykosh.wixsite.com/jeffreykoshgraphics/home)
Regarding Myconids, Part 3
Rarely is it necessary to answer this question, if I'm honest I think most are usually too embarrassed to ask. So I'm going to save you the red face and just tell you. “Averyx, old chap,” you're thinking, “I almost don't like to ask, but these mushroom-men, how do they, well, not to put too fine a point on it… Breed?”
There's no need to be embarrassed. The myconids certainly aren't. In fact of all species I know, they're the least embarrassed about this. The surprising reality is that none of the myconoids I have ever talked to have the faintest idea how this works, nor do they care. As far as they're concerned it just happens. They're happy making their own myconids each year, but they don't give the continuation of their species the slightest thought. And this is a shame, because their breeding habits are among the most surprising of anything on Mystara.
The myconids are merely sentient forms of existing fungi, and they all reproduce by producing spores. The mushrooms you see on the ground produce spores, as do the myconids. The spores of most mushrooms find a place in the soil or dirt and start to grow into a sort of slow, almost inert blob of life. They can persist this way for years, if there is enough to sustain them. And then, if by chance they encounter another of their type and, crucially, of a compatible mating group (that complexity itself I am yet to fully understand!) they will, errrm, do their thing, and recombine into a new, faster growing form. And here's the crucial part – to form a new myconoid, a spore released from a myconid must grow and encounter an appropriate example of its type. As you might imagine almost none of the unimaginable number of spores produced by the myconids ever meet up with the right counterpart. Is this why they are so rare? Well, yes, probably. Although if you run the numbers, and look at probabilities, it's hard not to wonder why the myconids are not in fact Mystara's most dominant life forms. If you go down to the woods to pick mushrooms, but the mushrooms fight back, this is probably why…
Myconids Only in the Hollow World
Arthrobotryd
Armour Class: 7
Hit Dice: 5**
Move: 240' (80')
Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: By weapon+2 or special
Number Appearing: 1d8 (5d10)
Save As: Fighter 8
Morale: 8 (12)
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 9
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 425
Now rare outside the Krugel Orc territories in the Hollow World, the arthrobotryds are a fascinating people. They produce the largest of all myconids, which begin existence as amorphous, orange-coloured blobs that only slowly rise above the sandy earth of their homelands. They slowly take the form of a sandy-covered copy of whichever local humanoid is most numerous (and which has been observed by previous myconids from the same myconoid) upon the local mount of choice—in the Krugel lands they appear very like a Krugel orc on either a horse or lizard. Note that this is only an appearance, and no creature within 10' of the myconid would be convinced by the charade. The myconid could not, for example, dismount; the humanoid and the mount are part of the same creature.
Arthrobotryds hunt in packs, using the most extraordinary tools to do so. They may form a sort of lance, extending almost instantly from their own bodies; it can be used as a lance with a +2 bonus to damage. They can charge into combat in the first round for double damage. They may likewise fashion swords and clubs from their own body mass. But their most feared attack is their myco-lasso. They form a looping, contractile filament that can be thrown at any target within 20' as the arthrobotryd gallops past. That target, if it is the size of a bugbear or smaller, must make a save vs. paralysis or be trapped by the lasso and dragged along. Once captured, the lasso starts releasing paralysing venom, and unless the victim can escape or be freed they must make a saving throw vs. paralysis each round or be paralysed. To free themselves from the lasso, a character must make an open doors roll (1d6+strength bonus, with a success only obtained with a 6 or more) to break the strands. Each round that the character struggles, the arthrobotryd will continue to move, inflicting 1d4 damage to the victim as they are dragged along.
Once the victim stops struggling, the arthrobotryd will absorb it into its own mycelium and return to the ground in which its own mycronoid is growing, to re-fuse with the myconoid. The myconoid will, over the course of many days, absorb the memories and whole body of said victim. The victim may be rescued at any point in the first 3 days—during that time they remain conscious and aware, as the myconoid slowly probes their mind. Afterwards the myconid re-emerges from the myconoid, and awaits other arthrobotryd myconids to gather for the next great hunt.
Like all myconids, the arthrobotryds will defend their home myconoids to the death. The myconoids of this species are more interested in knowledge than treasure, but from their numerous victims they grow to learn the value of treasure and guard their wealth in the earth around their myconoid.
Craterellid
Armour Class: 5
Hit Dice: 1**
Move: 90' (30')
Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: By weapon -1 or special
Number Appearing: 1d10 (20d10)
Save As: F1
Morale: 3 (12)
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 8
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 16
These small (1'-1'6”) blackish, trumpet-shaped myconids with somewhat greyish outer parts inhabit dark, mossy woodlands and seem completely harmless. In fact they are considered a delicacy by other races, and are often picked and consumed before reaching maturity. This leads to a certain amount of resentment among the craterellids, who have to watch their brethren being taken for consumption. And watch they do. And wait.
Craterellids were formerly common in Glantri, where they were referred to as trompette de la mort. Unfortunately they were on the verge of extinction, with voracious Glantrian appetite for mushrooms being a serious problem for them. The few remaining myconoids were transferred to the Hollow World by an as yet unidentified Entropic Immortal.
In a savage twist of irony the craterellids have learned to distinguish edible and poisonous fungi, and will, as soon as they are able, scour the woodlands for poisonous mushrooms, which they then take back to the darkest parts of the wood to work into a wicked, magical poison. This poison, when hidden in the food and drink of humans, demi-humans and humanoids, is lethal (save vs. poison or die in 1d6 turns). A successful wisdom check will allow the victim to work out that there is something unusual about the dish—it isn't unpleasant, it isn't obviously poisoned, it is just unusual. Many victims will continue imbibing the (delicious) poisoned meal. The victim will, 12 hours after death, rise as an undead zombie under the control of the craterellid myconoid. The zombies are used to defend the site from anyone who might pick growing myconids, and to gather any organic matter from around the forest to allow the myconoid to grow.
The cratellerid myconids exploit their small stature and natural stealth abilities (they can move silently and hide in shadows as if thieves of 12th level) to sneak into the homes of civilised and uncivilised folk alike, lacing food with this poison. They do all they can to avoid a fight, being able to handle no weapon larger than a dagger and inflicting -1 to damage with all blows. If they anticipate there is likely to be no option but to fight, some of craterellid myconids will create a distraction while others try to get behind their foes to backstab (as a 12th level thief).
The craterellid myconoid keeps its treasure hidden amongst the hollows of great trees, buried there by its enslaved zombies. It often disperses its better treasures among multiple sites, to try to avoid losing all of it should it be found.
Regarding Myconids, Part 4. Myconids in Spaaaaace
The funny thing about Mystarans… Well, one of the funny things about Mystarans, because there are many, is that for the most part they ignore the fact that they are part of a wider universe. They care more for planar boundaries than planetary ones, which is odd when you consider that at the heart of at least three of their major nations are alien races and intelligences, and when so many of their defining historical events involve alien visits or the devices they left behind. Be that as it may, this has never been a one-way relationship with alien worlds, and there are several examples of Mystaran peoples or races that have colonised far off planets, even whole new star systems. But it is testament to the hardiness and extraordinary adaptability of the myconids that it is one of their number, the geastrid, that has had the greatest impact on the wider Universe.
There are three reasons why that is the case. Firstly, their means of reproduction is ideally suited to panspermia (founding life on other worlds from a first). The spores they produce are practically indestructible, and can survive for decades, even centuries, without degrading—if they find their way into the void and onto the surface of a rock, they can persist almost indefinitely. Secondly, they are masters of adapting to different foodstuffs, and can utilise a bewildering array of materials as the basic building blocks of life. And, thirdly, remember that a myconid is essentially a sentient version of a fungus that already has the properties of resilience and adaptability that I have described—it takes only a single spore from a myconid to find the mycelium of that fungus on another world and turn it into a new myconoid.
One might assume from these advantages that myconids have conquered the galaxy! Far from it, in fact, the distances involved are enormous and even with these advantages the odds are always against them. But there are dozens of worlds and thousands of planetoids where the geastrid myconoids have made their home, despite now being extinct on Mystara herself. Well, extinct there until one finds its way back…
Geastrid
Geastrid
Armour Class: 6
Hit Dice: 4*
Move: 120' (40')
Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: By weapon+1 or special
Number Appearing: 1d3+5 (10d10)
Save As: F4
Morale: 9 (12)
Treasure Type: None (M)
Intelligence: 11
Alignment: Lawful
XP Value: 125
The geastrid myconid is one of the most peculiar-looking humanoids in existence. It begins life as an almost spherical, pale brown ball with a round frill at its base. It grows slowly until it is around a foot across. At this point, it pulls itself out of the ground to reveal a spindly, fibrous humanoid body beneath it, around 7' to 8' tall, and it sets about exploring its immediate surroundings. When 4-8 of them have reached maturity they begin their major toil, which involves exploring as a group and mapping the area around them, in an ever expanding range. Generations of myconids work to produce a map, which contains details of any creatures found, settlements, lairs, and any potential food sources, including major plant and animal resources and even any reactive ores. Once they have spent several months exploring further, and adding more information to the master map, they eventually choose to sit in an opportune spot, look upwards, and wait for the skin around their heads to peel back in the shape of a star, revealing a spore-filled head that puffs spores into the open every time the myconid is jostled, disturbed or rained on.
The geastrid myconid can also choose to unfurl its head covering when it is threatened. The very act of doing so will encourage many creatures (with an intelligence score of 5 or lower) to have to make a saving throw vs. death ray or run away in fear for 3d6 rounds. The geastrid can then release spores from its head in a cone 15' long and 10' wide at its far end, up to 3 times, and each breathing creature therein must make a saving throw vs. dragon breath or fall asleep for 2d6 turns. This is a magical sleep that is not affected by being disturbed or even slapped, and the victim must make a second saving throw vs. dragon breath or suffer horrific nightmares about being attacked by strange egg-like fungi in the void of space until they wake. Any victim who has suffered such nightmares also incurs a -2 penalty to all hit and damage rolls and a +1 penalty to armour class, until they can get a mostly undisturbed night's sleep. If forced to fight the geastrid myconid will either attack using its spores or by using weapons— they favour polearms, with which they attack with a +1 to damage.
Each generation of geastrid myconid reports the locations of all resources onto the myconoid, which slowly sends mycelium growing towards each. The myconoid can eventually, over many centuries, grow to an astonishing scale, taking nutrition from food sources that may be tens of miles apart. The geastrid myconoid can extract energy and nutrition from nearly anything—the bodies of animals, plants and roots, even metal ores. The purpose of this is to gain enough energy to reach its ultimate goal—to create a great geastrid.
The great geastrid is essentially identical to the head of the geastrid myconid, but on a massive scale—it can reach three or four hundred feet across, four to five hundred feet high, and it produces a near incomprehensible number of spores at a velocity sufficient to perfuse not only the entire atmosphere of the world the myconoid is growing on, but also to be flung into outer space. There the spores can remain viable for centuries, floating until they settle on an asteroid, planet or even vessel upon which they can germinate. The spores are essentially identical to those produced by the geastrid myconids, but their dispersal is spectacularly more effective.
Production of a great geastrid by geastrid myconoids is thankfully a rare event, typically only occurring after centuries of growth, and it so depletes the myconoids that there is 25% chance of the myconoid dying. If it survives, it is massively reduced in scale and will once again have to start from scratch, finding new resources to grow a new great geastrid. Spore dispersal by great geastrids takes several weeks, during which time all creatures within 100 miles must make a saving throw vs. dragon breath or be affected as if attacked by a geastrid myconid spore attack. Creatures that fall asleep will wake up after the great geastrid has finished releasing its spores, if they are fortunate enough to survive weeks sleeping without food or drink.
Geastrids have colonised hundreds of worlds, and while they are typically friendly, considered folk, most civilised creatures don't tolerate them once the extraordinary danger of the great geastrid has been realised. Once they have worked out what the source of the danger is, they will seek out any sites geastrids grow from and destroy any and all likely sites where the myconoid may be. Geastrids originated on Mystara, but have been extinct there for millennia. Any geastrid myconoids detected there are destroyed by mortal agents sent by the Immortals to do so, the danger they pose being so great.