Porcs: Swine Orcs

Monsters and Manuals pointed out recently what utter bastards boars & their domesticated cousins can be, and how they make for much more sense as a visual and behavioural reference for orcs than simply making them green-skinned humans. Whilst I'm usually more inclined to deviate from the savage side of orcs and and focus instead on developing their culture, I thought having a little bit of a nose dive into this idea could be fun.

There is little structure from here on out (think of each new paragraph as a bullet point and it becomes a lot easier to read). Also the images are from Darkest Dungeon, because their swine are pretty much exactly what I envisage for this idea.

Specifically, this one.

Heads of Lerna

Based on some brainstorming for a cult dedicated to the Lernaean Hydra.

Awakened Hydra by Artur Treffner

The Heads of Lerna are cultists that treat the hydra as their totem and idol. They provide her with protection (from her perspective, they provide a distraction for those wanting to disturb her slumber), food, and treasure, and in return the hydra provides the tools for the cult's machinations: her poison.

The toxins of the hydra emanate from everything: blood, tears, saliva, breath, shit. All of it is toxic, most of it is lethal. The cultists have gained resistance over time to the noxious fumes she produces, but her blood is still dangerous. Most of the toxins they take from her come through saliva and waste products, or collecting the water that she wallows in.

Consider the Kruthik

Kruthik are horse-sized raptor-mantids with the brainpower of a primate, driven only by the desire for food and the continuation of their kind. No one knows if they're natural, and few pursue the line of thought that would come from believing that anyone was crazy enough to willingly create them.

Alignment Factions (Rough Draft)

EDIT 17/02/19: I have spoken to a few people about this system on Discord, and we've come to the agreement that, much like the Ravnica faction system this is based on, the system predominantly benefits casters. If I come back to this in the future- which I doubt I will do unless there is a lot of interest in it- I think what I'd do instead/as well is to make some traits that players gain as they level up/commit alignment-specific deeds, similar to feats.

The following are optional semi-backgrounds, based on old D&D editions applying alignment as much more concrete concepts with mechanical influence. These would work for games where DMs want alignment to be core forces in their world- perhaps to the extent where they are manifested as gods or core elements.

When a player selects their alignment, they capitalise either good, evil, lawful, or chaotic. This trait becomes their founding alignment, which determines which alignment's traits they benefit from.

Each core alignment has a language. This language consists of body language, glints in the eye, and occasionally specific code words and dialects. These can only be spoken by those with the same alignment, and cannot be learned through other means. At the DM's discretion characters may get to learn the language of both their good-evil alignment and law-chaos alignment.

Neutral gets nothing right now because in the metaphysical war of polar ideologies, you don't get points for indecision.

Consider the Nagpa

"Nagpas can't learn from that which isn't destroyed. Imagine how bewildering and terrifying a city full of life must be to them. is it any wonder that they seek the ruin of such places?"

When Jim Henson designed the skeksis, he "became intrigued with the idea of a reptilian race assuming control over a formerly splendid past society." This eventually turned into the greedy, prideful, pathetically terrifying skeksis, which in turn likely went on to inspire the design of D&D's nagpa one year after the movie's release. With their latest incarnation featured in Mordenkainen's Tome of Foes, here's my take on their lore and mindset.

The nagpas were once a cabal of mages that sought to siphon power from the gods. As punishment for their greed and treachery against those that first gave them their power, they were cursed with vulture-like forms, blackened bones, and the inability to obtain knowledge from that which is not destroyed or discarded.

Nagpa's cannot learn of new things. At best, they have anterograde amnesia, able to recall fragments of new memories. At worst, their minds can crumble at the inability to comprehend what is around them; a nagpa that finds itself in a new city will shriek in fear, suffering short term madness until they spend sufficient time away from the settlement. The same is said for tomes on new magic or lore; to them, the modern mundane is the same as staring into an eldritch void.

Stone Erodes, Names Remain

There are many ways to start off a campaign (or prose). Here's one of them (note: nsfw art used below the break).

You slump to the ground. Everything aches. You cough and splutter for air and dust spews from your mouth. Your tongue tastes of chalk and there's grit in your eyes.

Looking around you, others are in a similar state to you. Standing above your collapsed forms is an adventurer of higher level, wiping blood off of their weapon of choice. On their belt is a small burlap bag, writing, containing a head-sized object. A vaguely humanoid, headless corpse lies on the floor in the corner, covered in dull green scales.

Congratulations, you have been freed from petrification.

An Alternative Hobgoblin

Art by Alex Tzutzy

Hobgoblins were men once. Warriors. The best of their kind.

They fought against the goblins, slaying them in their hundreds. The goblins watched them slaughter their kin, ambush their homes, outmanoeuvre their armies at every turn. They looked on with fear, rage, and awe.

When they finally managed to capture the humans, they did not slaughter them. They were instead brought before the goblin shamans, paraded through the war camps, stripped and prepared for the ritual.

Crowds parted as the bloodied pelts of the goblins they'd slaughtered were carried through the camp. One by one, they were bound and stitched to the screaming warriors. They would know fear and pain as the ritual started, and be devoid of it when the ritual ended.

When the men opened their eyes at last, they were men no more. Their skins were stained the colour of blood. Their features mangled under a goblinoid visage. They still had their wits, their minds, their military strategy and knowledge of the battlefield. But their allegiance was with the goblins now. It's in their blood, after all.

Just a small post for now, part of a series of me writing up some prompts I've given fellow D&D players on Discord. This one was in response to 'how should I do hobgoblins in my setting?'