Inheritors of an ancient curse, lamias lurk in the desert's ruined and decayed forsaken places. Hate fills these fast and powerful predators. They work toward the destruction of good-aligned shrines and temples. Many lamias have mystical powers.

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Outside the Lair

Small sand drifts choke a network of ruined stone walls that cover a large swath of the desert.
The merciless sun scorches a swath of bare rock. Characters going barefoot burn their feet.
A shimmering heatwave and the mirage of a walled and be-towered, but indistinct, city cloaks the lamia’s lair.
A huge star-shaped dune has partly swallowed the ruins about the lair. Deep shade and chill air often cloak the lair’s entrance.

What’s Going On?

A sudden gust of wind brings the faint clomp of hooves on bare stone to the party’s ears.
Screaming issues from the lair. The screaming tails off into a gurgling whimper as the party listen.
The lamia is praying to a forgotten demonic god of the wastelands; she is distracted and ignores the party.
The lamia is torturing a prisoner; the prisoner’s screams cover the sounds of the party’s approach.

Major Lair Features

The desert sands have invaded the ruins; deep drifts of fine, loose sand lurk here and there, waiting to entrap incautious explorers.
Several stone columns are dangerously unstable. A strong wind or careless climber could topple them.
A steep-sided ziggurat stands at the centre of the lair; a black stone altar drenched in dried, sun-baked blood stands atop it.
Bones choke a ceremonial pit 40-foot-square of unknown depth.

Minor Lair Features

Patches of discoloured, wind-blown sand show where the lamia’s victims met their doom.
Wind-blurred carvings depict the previous inhabitants of the ruins. Their scattered bones litter the burning sands.
Stone blocks—the remains of walls and the like—poke through the ever-shifting sands.
Carvings of a blazing sun once decorated the ruins, but the lamia has effaced all obvious examples.

Lamia’s Appearance

This lamia wears a voluminous off-white cloak. Her lion-like feet protrude from underneath the cloak’s hem.
The lamia has black-rimmed, hate-filled eyes; long black hair cascades over her bare shoulders.
This lamia has the lower body of a black-feathered vulture. While she lacks wings, she hops about as if trying to take flight.
With the powerfully muscled body of a lion, the imperious gaze of a warrior-queen and a profane blade forged from ancient star metal, this lamia screeches an ancient battle hymn as she pounces on her foes.

Treasure

A scorchingly hot gold hip flask lies half-buried amid the sand. It is empty but in perfect condition.
Hanging in a shaded nook, this heavy wineskin contains fine white wine. It is warm but still delicious.
This small statuette depicts an ancient ruler of the ruins; her green eyes—tiny malachites—glimmer in the sun.
With ornate scrolling, long reins, and even sumptuous padding, this supple red-leather camel saddle is incredibly comfortable to use.

Trinkets & Trash

A shattered scimitar lies half-buried in the sand. Only a jagged stump of the blade remains, and empty settings stud its pommel.
Slashed and bloodstained, this camel saddle is missing its reins.
This curved composite bow of beautifully stained cedar wood lacks a string.
A heap of dry and desiccated waterskins lies in the shadow of a tumbled stone wall.

Credit

This is a short system-neutral extract from Monstrous Lair #62: Lamia’s Lair by Robert Manson.

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