Mimic

Mimics of Grizburg

 

Appearance

In Grizburg, mimics are not bound to the tired forms of chests and doors alone. They slither into shapes more suited to the city’s hunger: rusted furnaces, warped barrels, cracked statues, even soot-caked machinery. Their hides ripple with oily iridescence, their tongues drip acid, and their eyes glimmer faintly like coal-embers from within the cracks of their disguise.   ---

Origins

The scholars of Rustwater argue that mimics were once spawned by alchemists who sought to fuse flesh with tool, hoping to birth tireless guardians for vaults and foundries. Others whisper they crawled from the Whispering Depths when Zothra-Khaar’s ichor seeped into forgotten relics. Whatever their beginning, they have adapted perfectly to the alleys, forges, and vaults of Grizburg.   ---  

Habitat

They thrive where suspicion is lowest: in tenements stacked with furniture, in warehouses cluttered with crates, in foundries where every furnace could be alive. The poorer districts are most plagued, as abandoned rooms become nests of mimics waiting for footsteps. Even in the noble houses, a mimic may slumber as a beloved heirloom until hunger wakes it.   ---  

Ecology

Mimics are ambush predators, but their appetite is tempered by patience. They can wait months without movement, their sticky skin coated in dust to better blend. When prey touches them, they strike fast, teeth gnashing and pseudopods dragging their quarry inside. In death, they leave no bones, only rust-colored stains where acid did its work.   ---  

Behavior

They mimic not only shapes, but sounds. In Rustwater alleys, the cries of a child may be a mimic’s lure, its voice stolen from a victim. In the Depths, a mimic may hum with the clank of a forge, drawing the curious close. When threatened, they harden into spiked forms—iron balls, jagged helms—rolling away until they can strike again.   ---  

The Whispering Depths Connection

Some cults claim mimics are mouths of the Depths itself, each bite a fragment of the god’s endless hunger. They are treated as sacred traps: offerings left in mimic-maws are considered accepted prayers. The largest stories speak of whole shrines that are mimics, swallowing worshippers whole in ecstatic devotion.   ---  

Use by Factions

Spies plant mimics as distractions, letting them rampage through guard posts. Assassins employ them as patient killers, trained to wait disguised as a single chair in a rival’s study. The Rust Barons even trade them as commodities—loyal mimics bound to tokens of blood, unleashed to devour debtors and deserters.   ---  

Cultural Role

In folklore, they are “The Hungry Walls.” Children are told not to lean against strange doors, nor to sit on untested chairs, lest they vanish screaming. Some gangs tattoo mimic-maws across their stomachs, a warning that they too devour the careless. Others keep small mimics as pets, though most such stories end poorly—and quickly.   ---  

Legends

The most feared tale is the Tavern that Bit Back. One night, revelers entered the Rustleech Dockhouse, only to have the entire tavern collapse inward as it revealed itself a mimic. No survivor ever escaped, and to this day some swear the building occasionally reappears, warm lights beckoning from within.   ---  

Threats to the City

Mimics erode trust in the very environment. Workers hesitate to touch their tools, merchants fear their wares, and guards strike barrels before resting. Their presence alone frays sanity, for in Grizburg, safety is always a lie waiting to bite.   ---  

Behavioral Oddities

Some mimics decorate themselves with trophies—rings, knives, or bits of clothing still stuck to their adhesive skin. Others are social, clustering together and forming whole “rooms” that shift and writhe when disturbed. The strangest are said to whisper in their sleep, rehearsing the voices they will use to lure their next prey.   ---  

Adventuring Hooks

• A Baron’s vault door is discovered to be a mimic, holding prisoners in its acid maw. • Rumors spread of a mimic posing as an entire forge in Rustwater, swallowing workers. • A spy’s mimic ally has grown too clever, threatening to expose its handler. • Cultists in the Depths worship a Gargantuan mimic shrine that devours sacrifices.   ---  

Closing Words

Mimics in Grizburg are more than dungeon tricks—they are symbols of the city’s deceit and hunger. In every chest, every door, every hearth, there could be a mouth waiting to swallow the unwary.     See full stats on D&D Beyond