Faction Prompt: Gorgon Templars

I was sent this post recently, and having both a soft spot for bullet point worldbuilding and gorgons, I wanted to have a go at expanding on this concept a bit.

The tale of Saint Orabella is one of martyrdom and monsters: her homeland decayed under the weight of their corpulence and corruption. Distraught at what she saw, Orabella prayed to take on the sins of her people so that they may be given a chance to start anew and redeem themselves. In doing so, she was transformed into a gorgon, and her church cast her out as a monster. Orabella held onto her faith for the rest of her life, until another saint slew her as part of their journey.

Knights that seek to emulate Saint Orabella - to take on the burdens and sins of those around them, to endure deformity and exile for their faith and the betterment of others - may find themselves entering her sect. Entering her cathedral, they are watched by stone sentries, their faces wrought with looks of defiance, endurance, and exhaustion. The cathedral's interior is plain. At the far end, an altar awaits its worshipers; held atop in the caring hands of a headless statue is a relic, covered in a thin veil of silk.

The severed head of Orabella.

Medusa Head by Shafiq Cromwell

Initiation into the Sect of Saint Orabella requires each knight to gaze into the eyes of their saint and endure her stare. To the knights, petrification and the power it brings is as much a symbol as a real affliction. For them, it is a physical representative of the burdens one has to bear and the temptations one must resist in order to be a good person. Those that are petrified give in to these temptations and cannot carry their burdens, whilst those that endure are able to push them back... for a while. In time, they too shall fall victim to the curse and join their brothers and sisters as stone guardians of the cathedral.

Exactly why this happens has been interpreted in many ways. Some argue that temptation is not something that can be resisted forever by mere mortals, and the petrification takes its hold over all because they are simply human (or whatever other species they may be). Others claim that the 'blessing' of their saint is simply a curse given by a monster, and that the knights are clearly deluded for seeking power from a monster's affliction.

The knights bear their marks with subtlety at first. Their eyes look weary, sometimes reddened and weeping. Their joints ache and muscles tense without provocation. Though their skin may be clean and youthful from the constant use of healing salves, the smell of alchemical ingredients clings to their body, and over application may stain their skin in time. It is this staining and reliance on alchemists that has led to this sect being ousted in the past; few alchemists are willing to withhold details of their clients when a templar inquisition is at their doorstep.

The excommunication and imprisonment of these knights has been kept a close secret, for knowledge of splintering within the templars - or that this splintering was due to the praise of a saint turned monster - would do little to aid their efforts in maintaining control and praise of the common folk. Justifying bloodshed and raiding in the name of their lord is hard enough without including severed heads and petrification into the mix.

Medusoids: Jellyfish people for D&D 5e

Just a quick post today, sharing a brew for jellyfish people inspired by Caitlin Soliman's art, especially her jellyfish-themed mermaids:

Here are just a few of them!

As a bit of lore for them:

Watchers of the tides and archivists of history, the medusoids measure their lives not in years, but in aspects: units of time defined by going from one life to another. As one aspect withers, it is rejuvenated into an infant state, equipped with knowledge from its past lives and a fresh, new outlook on the future.

Medusoids that answer the call to adventure do so due to a need to change the world they have witnessed for so long, either to restore some constant balance or to instil long-needed change. Though not physically strong, they compensate for this with great knowledge and an array of nematocyst-ridden tendrils emerging from their bodies.

Tales from the surface speak little of the medusoids, other than sailors telling drunken tales of singing jellyfish, ghosts of drowned wives-to-be, and strange findings of translucent clumps of vaguely humanoid flesh washed up on beaches, clean of pecks by any seabirds.

To read the racial statblock, check out the link here.