I am returned, from a long absence inflicted by a change of address and many, many hours of work. In the interim I've been incubating some bizarre sicknesses, contracted no doubt in one of the damp, fetid caverns at the very distant back-end of my brain.
I've never been a huge fan of super-realistic diseases in roleplaying games: I think the aversion stems from a particularly traumatic episode as an early player, watching my beloved character slowly succumb to some particularly depraved invention. That said, I would be troubled to see them totally absent from a setting- even if they are generally only represented by ability score penalties and perhaps an inhibited recovery from damage. And, well, where there are standard diseases there should be some really weird ones, too.
Dwarven Diamante-Rash
It's said that this disease is native to the very depths of the deepest dwarven mines, where much toil and labour is expended carving materials long believed to be the stuff of myth and legend from the crude bedrock beneath the mountains. The traditionally stoic dwarven approach to sickness, weakness and medicine meant that few outside these ancient mines and their accompanying citadels ever heard of the Diamante-Rash until trading routes with the nearby petty kingdoms of humans were established. The humans, with their much lower standards of hygiene and much less robust immune systems, were a perfect host for the rash.
The Diamante-Rash first manifests as an itch in one particular spot. Eventually, the skin there will blister and split, blossoming into a gaudy but materially worthless gemstone. For 2d6 days after infection this process will repeat as the rash spreads over the body. After this period is done the afflicted individual enters the infective stage of the disease, with the gemstones slowly losing their lustre and shine even as the host begins to sneeze dry and uncomfortable bursts of glitter for 1d3 days. This glitter is the pathogen for fresh infection in new hosts.
During the infective stage treatment may be sought for the affliction. A successful save against disease means that the infection ends with the final glittery outburst and the host is left immune for 2d6 weeks, with advantage on this save given for those who maintain good hygiene throughout and a further advantage for those who seek medical attention to this end. The initial blisters begin to flake away harmlessly when infection has ended. If the save is failed more of the gemstones will begin to appear for another 2d6 days, and the cycle continues on.
The disease is not itself directly fatal, but it will begin to impair movement after successive infections since, while the disease is active in one's system, the gemstones remain very hard. For every six days that new diamantes are actively growing the afflicted takes an accumulated -1 penalty to all skill checks involving fine dexterity. When this penalty reaches -5 movement is impaired. With long term exposure, the ability to eat will likely be impaired. Dwarves that were infected with the Diamante-Rash and then trapped in the mines due to cave-ins are often discover many years later as bizarre sculpture-like memories of themselves.
Dwarven Diamante-Rash is caught either from an individual in the infective stage of the infection themselves, or from mysterious secretions of the glitter-pathogen that can sometimes be found on the walls of deep, deep cave systems. This glitter-pathogen has been used to great effect in the mischievous traps and pranks arranged by alchemist apprentices.
The Gull-Sickness
Weird plagues crop up all along the Coaster-towns every year, washing in with the heavy tides to pepper the poor hardy-folk with ailments as summer comes to a damp conclusion and freezing out with deep winter. By the account of near every grumpy inn-patron and harbour-hand, the worst in living memory was the Gull-Sickness. This freakish affliction that swept away hundreds and hundreds of lives over a good few years of virulence is still reported by the sailors who venture out to the rocky islets between the Yammerstills and the Ice Cities.
The Gull-Sickness appears at first to be a sort of stomach bug, inducing nausea in the afflicted and affecting balance for 1d6 days. The sufferer would complain of an upset stomach, perhaps, or a fluttering chest. At this stage, treatments are often administered with some success- quelling the vomitting, settling the stomach. Regardless of the treatment, the afflicted suffers a strange lack of focus, struggling to maintain concentration on matters important and tending to distraction, staring at odd objects or into the middle distance- this is reflected in a small penalty to initiative. After the initial sickness passes or is treated, the afflicted experiences 1d3 days of relieved symptoms and mostly-returned focus, albeit with a growing and insatiable hunger. The afflicted requires double the usual rations to feel the benefits of a meal. After these last days, the sickness enters its true phase.
The hunger that was an inconvenience before becomes all-consuming now. For 1d3 days the afflicted must make a save to avoid eating anything that looks reasonably edible. For 1d3 days after that the afflicted must make a save to avoid eating anything that is a texture roughly equivalent to common foods. For the next 1d3 days they must be physically restrained from shovelling anything they can physically masticate and swallow down their throat. The sickness does not compel the afflicted to eat living things- only inanimate matter seems to flag as "food" to their fevered mind.
The Gull-Sickness is so named because the sufferers in their latter stages appear as voraciously hungry and non-discerning as the muddy-white seagulls of the coast. Physicians of all manner up and down the settlements have treated the Gull-Sickness with very limited success, supposing it to be some taint affecting a meal eaten that causes the illness. Really the illness is of a memetic nature- it is a learned behaviour with a mind all of its own, meaning that merely observing one in the throes of the final stage is enough to potentially infect a new host, with a save versus mental compulsion. The real danger of Gull-Sickness, of course, comes from the various substances eaten while in the state of frenzy, since the illness offers no improved constitution. Saves against the toxicity of various substances should be made at the GMs discretion to avoid harmful side-effects. Should a failed save result in vomiting, it is cheerfully noted that vomit is most definitely often reasonably edible-looking. Many a sailor of the Coaster-towns has drowned after to trying to cram back in an ill-thought meal he had already once lost.
