“Close the shutters, grotesquelet. I have it on good authority we’re in for a stormy night.”
“With pleasure, oh Round One. Hail?”
“Don’t grovel. My dear friend Ragwort the Amaranth Wizard tells me he’s expecting toads.”
“Please, proffer him my congratulations master.”
“Don’t be impertinent. And get that cat oiled.”
Storms occasionally grace any fantasy game table. However, our precipitation is more outré than standard. Fantasy weather can be strange, which makes a great way to threaten or indulge in moments of import or in prophecies about to come to fruition.
Each suggestion comes with a short description of events. As always, feel free to vary, expand, and ignore these as you feel.
Raining Toads or Frogs
“The boiling clouds have been hanging low for some time now. They’re almost touching your surroundings in places, as though they wish to rest on the earth and snooze—or perhaps devour. Suddenly, they burst, their bloated gray forms vomiting out something far worse than heaving rain: toads, great distended black and ochre toads. Many die as they hit the ground, their bodies burst on impact. Yet many more live, and as the torrent continues, the ground is deep in slithering toads and their dead kin.”
Let’s start with the most obvious: such rain has been alleged over the centuries and is a good—if basic—twisted weather phenomenon to throw at your group. It’s an easy way to spice up your evening’s play with some outdoor carnage. This could directly or indirectly affect play. Perhaps events outside are mere fluff, the pounding bodies adding (literal) weight to momentous occurrences within temples, dungeons or other settings.
Those caught outside suffer the following potential effects: increase the DCs or risk as you wish to reflect just how bloated this storm becomes. All characters caught in the storm suffer similar effects as though obscured by fog. The rain obscures all sight beyond 15 feet, including darkvision. Creatures 15 feet away have concealment. All Perception checks are made with disadvantage. Ranged weapon attacks are impossible beyond 15 feet. The ground is coated with slime and carcasses and becomes difficult terrain.
Characters under the open sky must make a DEX save every minute or take 1d6 bludgeoning damage. A creature casting any spell in the rain requires concentration (DC 13).
The rain of amphibians leaves a carpet of horror in its wake. You might decide that this affects movement further, perhaps requiring DEX (Acrobatics) checks to remain standing or perform complex actions. In urban settings, creatures may begin to block vents and chimneys, or gather at gutters, threatening minor structural damage: gutters may bloat and collapse, injuring those below. As drains become engorged with gore, these begin to block.. Deeper gatherings of frogs and toads must be swum through to access chases or places of interest.
The Storm of Fishes
“A sudden, palpable salt taste fills the air as the engorged clouds hang over your heads. The clouds are suddenly alive with gulls and other birds, the creatures swooping through the steaming mass of mist as though feasting. Then you see why: the clouds are bloated with fish, tens of thousands of tiny black fish that begin to pour down upon you in a rain of brine and death.”
In many ways, the rain of fish—if you apply it simply as that—is similar to the frogstorm above. If you wish, modify the description to fit the rules accordingly.
However, this storm is far greater than that. It tears the very harvest of the sea and hurls it onto land, bringing with it fish from the deep, including those of great size.
Larger fish are hurled from the clouds on a semi-regular basis; use them to shock players into understanding the gravity (pardon the pun) of the event taking place. The bigger creatures hurtle into the PCs’ area. For simplicity, assign 1d4 for every scene the PCs pass through outdoors—perhaps, a courtyard or town square or dash across farmland. (It doesn’t really matter, the effect is what is important.)
Assign the fishes to target characters randomly. Avoiding a fish requires a successful DC 12 DEX save. On a failure, a creature takes 1d6 bludgeoning, piercing, damage, depending on the fish that strikes it. Consider increasing the save DC and damage in increments of 1 as the storm strengthens.
In depicting this fantasy storm, make it epic: if you want a whale tossed onto a town square, have one. It’s great for drama, and in many ways, the more outlandish the event, the more memorable it will be.
Bear in mind not to overuse the mechanic, though. Dodging a couple of storms of fish that have sharks and maybe the odd giant octopus tossed up is great, but avoiding random effects by saving throws is not roleplaying. You’re after drama, not fatigue. Use it to its greatest effect.
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