Nimue

This one is a long overdue post about one of my favorites characters so far, one with I've had countless hours of fun and met some wonderful people.

Nimue, a cleric of Cthulhu, was created for a DDC RPG campaign run by Edgar Johnson that would start with The Pod-Caverns of the Sinister Shroom.

The rest of the party were:

Banvha the 1st level Halfling
Aram the 1st level Cleric
Vane the 2nd level Warrior
Klaus the 1st level Thief
Grumble the 1st level Dwarf
Jerkal (Gerbil) the 2nd level Wizard

Also, Nimue had a 1st level Warforged named Sybian, an old "murder machine" that we found in an abandoned basement and was given  to her to use in her super creepy rituals.

Here's a little background on it by Adam Muszkiewicz;

"The first thing we found (which happened off-camera and we retconned in as an explanation of where Gabriel's new PC came from) was a man-sized automaton of some sort that we managed to get working somehow and who then joined up with the Purple Tentacle team. Thus, the legend of Sybian the Whoreforged was born. Is he a pleasure-bot of some lost species of super-hedonists? Or perhaps the personal orgasmatron of a dowager-queen from a repressed society of sexual prudes? For now, the only thing that is certain is that Sybian has a "pole-arm" and knows how to use it. Oh, and he has a lantern built into his noggin, so we periodically have to make sure he's all oiled up."

Later, we playtested an adventure that would become DCC #87 Against the Atomic Overlord by Edgar Johnson. I got really excited when Doug Kovacs asked about Nimue to be on the cover. 

DK: I need to sell Nimue to Joseph Goodman.
Me: Tell him she's like a Red Sonja but with dark hair.

DK: Done.

Here'e the video of  What's New at Goodman Games Gary Con 2015 where the module was presented and Doug talks a bit about the characters on the cover, around the 39:00 mark.

 

There are a couple of blog posts about Nimue: Dealing with Dissaproval and The Ritual.

Dealing with disapproval

After the Divine Order of the Purple Tentacle defeated a tentacled monstrosity, summoned by the Bloody Successors on their onslaught to the neighborhood, Nimue knew what she had to do. During the battle, she called upon the favor of the Elder One and failed. Now she will have to appease them. So, before leaving, she ordered her urchin followers to cut a couple of tentacles.

Kormaki, cleric of the Metal God of Thunder and fellow member of the Order, had the Captain of the Gate somewhat healed. The poor bastard lost his sanity when the creature attacked, and spend the battle crouching and whimpering on the doorsteps of a nearby house. She decided he'd make a good offering and sent an urchin on some errands.

That night, dressed in her best silks, and followed by a couple of her urchins who carried between them a coffer of black wood and inlaid with silver, she went to find the Captain. She found him at "The Rare Cauldron" tavern drinking with other officers of House Wazi. While she crossed the main room, the urchins went upstairs, left the coffer in a previously rented room and waited in the corridor. 

Everyone stopped drinking, eating, laughing and speaking as she graciously approached the Captain's table. She leaned over to him, whispered something in his ear and turned away. Such was the power of her mellow voice, that he stood and followed her, without finishing his drink, saluting his comrades or donning his rogatywka.

Once upstairs in the gloomy room, and after a couple of honeyed words, the Captain found himself laying naked on the bed, and before he could ask anything, a gentle touch from Nimue left him paralyzed. What promised to be an exciting night, was soon to become a nightmare. With her back to him, she let her silks fall to the floor as she opened the lid of the ebony coffer and begun muttering a litany. 

When she straddled naked over him, he saw, to his horror, that her arms have been transformed into tentacles which she sensually wriggled all over him. Sheer waves of pleasure swept over him, as she contorted and repeatedly called, in a strange language, for He who awaits asleep in the depths...

ya Nimue mnahn' Cthulhunyth stell'bsna ee ngfhayak hlirgh orr'e

Candlelight flickered and extinguished as an unfelt gust passed over it. The Captain silently screamed in terror, as he felt his soul sucked into a void of utter darkness by hundreds of hungry tiny tendrils, taking away the deceitful moment of elation. Tears of joy ran down Nimue's cheeks as she realized that her offering has been accepted.

The ritual

One by one the seven men arrived to the house. They were received by an grim looking warforged that gave them a key. They were ordered to get into a side room, remove every possessions from themselves, which could be locked into one of the seven chests available, and to return wearing only a black hooded robe. Not one of them dared to contradict Sybian, the pole-armed automaton.

Each was led through a set of double doors into a bigger room. A bed covered in black silk sheets stood enclosed by a circle of also black candles, all lit, but their light was not enough to reveal the whole room. Ten feet from the candles were seven mahogany and leather seats forming a circle. A stool with a silver goblet containing an unknown beverage stood next to each seat.

One by one, in silence, they took their places. All kept their hoods up. No one spoke. No one dared to to look around or taste what was in the goblets. When the seven men were seated, they heard the doors being closed... and locked. The air, sweetened by the candle's smoke, filled with expectation.

"Welcome...", said from the surrounding darkness the same mellow voice that asked them to come today. Nimue, clad in a translucent silky gown that left nothing to imagination, entered the circle of light and lay graciously on the bed. "Please drink...", she said with a vague gesture and they, with their eyes fixed on her, obeyed. She knelt and started to hum while contorting her almost perfect body. The light of the candles flickered as her gown fell, her humming and sinuous movements gaining tempo.

Then everything went dark.

Chairs screeched and fell. Stools tumbled. Goblets clattered through the floor. Cries, gasps, pleas, screams could be heard as the purple tentacle beer made effect and the ritual reached its climax. All the hidden fears, obscure desires and lowest urges crept from the deepest and darkest corners of the seven souls. The humming went on as the unnameables rose from murky blackness to claim the offerings.

Each time one of the seven were taken, a wave of absolute pleasure invaded Nimue's body raising the pitch of her humming. Surge after surge of delight and joy rippled through her body until all yelling, bawls and bellows subsided, and she lay gasping, sweaty and exhausted on the bed.

Then everything went silent.