Lapsus Calumni #5 – The Head of Gazoul

I have decided upon a slight change in how I was publishing Lapsus Calumni. In the past I presented a ‘short story’ in addition to the actual zine, due to life and such, they were simply taking up far too much time to do both, and thus I will be releasing the zine (hopefully still twice a month if not weekly) sans the story. It might return here and there, but I aiming for the zine to be of some quality and would rather focus on it. I will be providing the zine on the blog as well as in a PDF for later use.

Fellion leaned into the small chamber as dust drifted slowly down from the ceiling above, giving him a bit of dandruff on those long reddish-brown locks he is too proud of.

Snikle chuckled behind him.

“What’r ye laughing at, lad,” asked the grumpy older ghim. He now had the upper half of his body shoved into the chamber behind the secret door Snikle had discovered.

“Oh nothing…dust got to me,” he feigned a cough. It was a tricky game staying on Fellion’s good side, pissing him off while in a dungeon was sort of a game that Snikle enjoyed, but today had been an untypical day when they stumbled into this room. Bannethe, the nimble female sylari that had joined their group had entered the room and quickly found herself with the end of goblyn spear in her tummy. She was interesting, in more ways than the normal sense and her mannerisms had been hilarious…even if she had that odd green tint to her skin and hair. Fellion must have taken a liking to her as well because his mood had gone foul when Bannethe passed.

A squelch of fright came from the chamber and Fellion fell back to his rump, nearly landing on Snikle. He began vigorously wiping his right hand on the dirt, as if attempting to get some unseen slime from its surface. He kept repeating one word “Gross, gross, gross…”

“What is it? What happened?” Snikle rushed to his friend’s side.

“Ugh! ‘Tis disgusting Snik, ye can touch it all ye want, but that damned thing is not coming near me,” He dug his heels into the dirt floor and pushed himself away from the opening. He waited until his back struck the opposite wall before standing upright.

“What…? Come on!” Snikle was anxious now. If Fellion was put out by whatever resided in the secret chamber, he certainly wanted in on it. “What is it, buddy?”

“A severed head,” He spit in the dirt, as if merely saying the words had cursed his mouth and he needed to be free of its curse. “Black arts, no doubt. Touch it and the black veil will befall you Snik.”

“A severed head you say?” He absently scratched at the day old whiskers on his chin. Fellion could see the gears within Snikle’s head suddenly spin to life. “I wonder…”

“Oh no, don’t ye go a wunderin’ nothing!”

The Head of Ghazoul

This beaded necklace has twisted and grotesque shrunken head on the end. The head measures about six inches in diameter. The story goes that it is the genuine head of a witch that was removed after she cursed one too many a person. Forced for eternity to serve anyone who holds the head, her soul is trapped within the small magical amulet. No one is certain how to destroy and free the witch.

WR&M rules: When one point of Mana is expended, the head is held up before the wearer so that it faces him/her and a single question is asked the eyes will glow a faint greenish light. Moments later the face will speak in a guttural and gravelly voice, providing the asker an unclear, and potentially incorrect, answer. GMs are encouraged to use this to provide a hazy view of the future for the characters.

Download PDF version.

Warrior, Rogue & Mage ©2010 Michael Wolf


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