Doppelganger Plant

Few who study this plant survive, so its origin is unknown. It resembles a melon patch of tangled vines and glossy leaves, with one pod per Hit Die, each four to eight feet long. The pods hold its intelligence and its one weapon, the power to enslave minds. It cannot talk with outsiders, but shares thoughts instantly with its slaves, sensing all they experience.

Physically helpless, it lets its slaves fight. Fire and lightning deal half damage; cold and most other magic, full. Weapons do 1 point per hit to vines and leaves but full damage to pods. The vines hold 20% of its hit points, the pods share the rest equally, and both must be destroyed: wreck only one and the plant merely seems dead, which is why so many patches sprout again.

Once per round it can target a sleeper, or anyone unconscious, up to 1 mile away per Hit Die with mind bondage. It finds targets mystically, unseen and unknown, and may try endlessly, but gains at most one slave per 24 hours. The power acts like trap the soul joined to domination. A save vs. spell resists it, though the target feels something evil brush its mind; elves, half-elves and others resist as they would charm. Failure makes the victim a podling, wholly controlled and linked to the plant anywhere, even on another plane.

Its life force is sealed inside a pod until that pod is destroyed. The spirit can return only to a living body, needing a resurrection survival roll that counts as a resurrection attempt in every way; success leaves the owner dazed and helpless for about an hour.

These plants grow only in warm, damp lands, usually after a sky omen such as an ill-starred comet or meteor shower, for reasons unknown. Feeding on podlings, they always want more, and with no range limit on control they send slaves far afield to bring victims back. Whole towns have fallen to one plant. Several plants always cooperate, perhaps having puppets play opposing roles, and like chess players they will sacrifice a minor slave so another seems trustworthy.

It needs no water or sunlight, only its podlings' essence; why it keeps to warm regions is unknown, perhaps a mental rather than physical need. Its sap and pod flesh are valuable for potions and devices that sway minds, and pod flesh often doubles their power: a potion of human control made from a pod's heart can control a full 64 levels or Hit Dice of humans and demihumans.

Podlings are the plant's food, eyes and hands, and they move so naturally that casual observers see nothing odd. A podling keeps its knowledge, skills and spells and uses them all for the plant, so stats vary, though most were common folk. It is no longer truly alive: no heartbeat, breath only for speech or smell, unresponsive pupils, no hunger, thirst or sleep. A typical person has a 10% chance per hour in its company of noticing anything amiss, and only those who knew the victim can say what, like a friend suddenly refusing a favorite treat.

Starting 24 hours after enslavement, the plant drains 1d4 hit points a day, hollowing the body from the core outward until only skin, some muscle and fat remain. Each quarter of its hit points drained strips 20% of its weight, so a 200-pound man dies at just 40 pounds, a lightness others may notice.

A blade or point that wounds one gives a 5% chance per point of damage of noticing something strange, then a 10% chance per point on later rounds of discovering it is partly hollow. An unsuspecting attacker who learns this must make a horror check. A podling slain by such weapons is obvious on inspection. Podlings defend the plant unhesitatingly and lure victims into range, then knock them out or coax them to sleep.