Intelligent Plants

These plants can think, or at least plan, and each has its own way of turning travelers into food. Some arose from stray magic; others may have evolved naturally.

It resembles a thick, sparsely leaved oak with knotty sense organs high up, an acid gut opening where the main limbs fork, and a slit near the base for ejecting indigestibles. Saplings creep 6 feet an hour, old trees 2. Poor roots force it to eat meat, and in a freeze it sinks a taproot and sleeps. Older trees speak halting Common. When prey is 30 to 80 feet off, it can exude a perfume that makes it seem a normal tree, or a treant if it likes.

Of its 1d4+5 noose vines, it works three at a time. A snared victim takes 1-3 points per round while being hoisted (up to 1,000 pounds) toward the gut over four rounds, with a single bend bars/lift gates attempt to break away. On round five he falls in; inward spines bar escape and acid deals 3d4 per round until he dies. About three man-sized meals fit. Vines are AC 5 and need 1d8+12 points each to sever, separate from the tree's own hit points; the trunk is AC 3. It gains 5% magic resistance per decade, capped at 95%. Lightning that gets through does double damage, deep cold forces dormancy until a thaw, and darkness halves its pace to three attacks per two rounds. It keeps no treasure but now and then expels indigestible items.

Living seaweed that shapes itself into a green-clad woman, a green horse or a hippocampus, the kelpie hunts men to drown. Its disguises are poor (95% detectable by day), so it leans on a once-daily charm against a humanoid male, who saves at -2. Failing, he sees a beautiful woman or mount, dives in and drowns happily in its coils at 2d10 per round until he reaches air, is protected, or dies; it then hauls the corpse to its lair. Water-breathers just embrace it, which confuses it. It speaks telepathically to anyone it holds.

As woman or horse it can go ashore for 1-3 hours, often with a charmed protector who will turn on his friends; the charm ends only with the kelpie's death. It matches the surrounding temperature and takes half damage from fire, none with a save. Legend credits a sea god punishing sailors, or the water princess Thessaryne, who shielded women from its power. Monthly, when food is plentiful and fish leave it alone, it grows to 7 feet and splits into two or four.

This malign black moss eats memories, prepared spells included. It needs sunlight only to spore and cannot bear cold. It picks one thinking creature within 60 feet, wizards first, then other casters, who must save vs. spell or lose the last 24 hours. It repeats each round until it wins, then waits 24 hours. Attacked while holding stolen thoughts, it buds a tiny moss double of its victim that stays rooted and casts the stolen spells. Eating the live moss (one round) restores everything on a save vs. poison; failure brings 3d6 turns of illness. Moss that fed on others grants their spells and memories too, fading within a day. It can be distilled into a potion of forgetfulness, and its spores into an elixir that restores lost memory.

The spy tree looks like an oak until someone within 10 feet notices its twisted human face (10% chance from farther off). It has 120-foot infravision and feels ground tremors and air currents. From up to 90 feet away its roots burrow up through soft earth and pin anything under 1,000 pounds. Roots are unbreakable, harmless, immune to blunt weapons and take 1 point from piercing ones; blades cut them as large creatures of 10 hp each, damage the tree itself ignores. After six are lost it pulls back its remaining 1d6+6. Captives are dragged to a mouth that bites for 3d4.

Sweating keeps it immune to fire; it also ignores lightning, poison, gas, mind-affecting magic and most spells not made for plants. A spell aimed at it is soaked up and turned into a fear aura reaching 10 feet for each spell level; if the caster fails a save vs. spell, the whole spell becomes fear, otherwise the spell works normally as well. It controls 2d4 ordinary oaks within a mile as spies, may be charmed into guarding treasure in its trunk, and can drum an alarm heard a mile off.

Under its heap of rotting vegetation the shambler is a smart plant with a humanoid outline, 6 feet around at the base and 2 at the top, and its brain in the chest. It haunts swamps, rain forests and damp caves, alone unless food is endless, as near ruins or old gold mines. It swims well and is so quiet and well hidden that foes suffer -3 on surprise. It waits in bogs for someone to step on it or slips into camps at night.

Two arm hits in one round entangle a victim, who suffocates in 2d4 rounds unless he makes a bend bars/lift gates roll or the shambler dies. It is immune to blunt weapons and fire, takes half from blades and points, and half or no cold damage depending on its save. Each lightning attack adds a foot of height and 1 HD with matching hit points. Lost limbs regrow in a round, so it dies only when enough bulk is hacked off, and resting in wet greenery heals it fully in 12 hours. Tales of 20 HD shamblers in marshes shared with will-o'-wisps may be true.

This cunning warm-water kelp floats like ordinary seaweed in a patch of 3d4 square feet, dangling 3d4 fronds 1d6+6 feet long. A hit means a frond has wrapped its target, who then attacks at -2. Each frond has 4d4 Strength and all wrapped fronds pool theirs. Treat exceptional 18 Strength as 19. A stronger victim has a 10% chance per point of difference to escape each round; a weaker one is stuck and takes 1 point per point of difference; equal Strength holds him without harm.

A fly-swarmed mound of tarry gray-green ropes 3 or 4 feet high, smelling of thick syrup, it lives in shade, barely rooted, and drags itself on sticky tendrils. Missiles and fire do half damage. Sensing movement within 5 feet, it strikes with up to six tendrils per target each round. Each three that stick give -1 to hit, and every tendril that struck deals 1 point per round of digestive damage, attached or not. An open doors roll pulls one free, once per tendril per round. A natural 20 seals mouth and nose with sap, suffocating the victim in 1d3+1 rounds unless it is cleared; vinegar or alcohol dissolves it.

Mold men keep these bark-armored plant dogs as guards. A thorny bites, and if the bite hits it rolls its spiny body over the victim for 3d4. Its egglike seeds sprout small trees whose buds become pups, and only those raised from the bud can be trained.