A Rough Sort (Trio of GLOG Classes)

    Got a couple of classes rattling around in my brain. Thought I'd publish them here, so at least someone might get use out of them.

"Chocolate"! AI generated, with a watermark from some sleazebaggianos... and yet, still "chocolate".

    The Thieves World series consisted of sword-and-sorcery anthologies of stories written by some of the most influential fantasists of the 70s and 80s (including the never-more-than-just-out-of-frame Marion Zimmer Bradley). They were mostly pretty terrible books, containing mostly pretty terrible stories — at best, they reach the height of "pastiches of Robert E. Howard and Clark Ashton Smith" and at the worst they're about the unshakeable love between an author-insert and a prepubescent. I've read the first two out of twelve collections, and there have already been 3 or 4 stories where a man infiltrates a wizard's house by sneaking in through the hidden escape route backwards (like in Rogues in the House, January 1934, a story worth reading). But I take real joy in crummy, crime-ridden fantasy cities, and because my current weekly game has taken the party to one (and stuck them there for a good while) I've been scaring up brain-fodder.

    The connections between Thieves World and 1980s fantasy tabletop gaming is obvious, worth discussing, and has been discussed elsewhere in long essays and shit. Go read those if you're interested; I'm only here to post some classes.

    I suppose I have one thought to share with you, a bit of Theory before the content. A common thread in the GLOG is the idea that the class is the primary medium by which the player understands the world. Vivanter has a post about class selection as the way players signal what kind of game they want to play. I couldn't find this post in time for publishing, but I've read some good posts (possibly from Grognardia?) about how Jack Vance and other sword-and-sorcery authors used throw-away references to strange peoples, secret cults and far-off lands to good effect, giving the impression that their worlds were much broader and deeper than they probably were.
    Here's that thought I promised you, reader: you don't need to write any "lore" or "setting info". You don't need a timeline, and you hardly ever need a map (unless the map is cool). The classes can speak for themselves. In Thieves World each new weird guy — Shadowspawn the witch-blood burglar; Tempus the murderously sociopathic avatar to a host of gods; Lythande the magical pedophile (written by Marion Zimmer Bradley); many more — expands and deepens the setting exponentially. Just come up with good ideas! That's all you need!

    "Nobody knows how big Sanctuary [the city which the stories are set in] really is. Anytime any one of us needs a secret meeting place we just create one – Sanctuary is either very large or very cramped." - Lynn Abbey, author, co-editor of Thieves World

Wizard School: Three Primes

    When several factors beloved by the Lord of the Three Primes align in the life of a soon-to-be acolyte (among them the loss of all family ties, a certain bloodless interest in the human body, and a talent for dark magic), then the Black Book of Sal-Carrion may appear to them, bound in soft, creamy hide, lettered in red ink. Its secrets are cruel, and difficult to believe — but if you have the inclination, surely it wouldn't be so hard to disprove them.

Perk: By your education, dress and manner of speech you are recognized as a gentleman-medico. You're permitted to enter places that are usually forbidden to wizards, adventurers, or common surgeons. Highly-placed people trust your judgment, and seek your advice in emergencies. 
Drawback: Peasants and children makes a reaction check when they realize what you are. They may attempt to ward you off with an apple. 
Cantrips: 

1. Once per disease you are infected with, you may attempt to pass it to another person who fails a save.
2. When you spill blood, you may choose to have it disappear before it touches the ground.
3. Given a bird and a windup toy, you may make one windup bird with 10 minutes of work.

Spells:

1. Abstemious Supply
   R: touch T: see description D: permanent
   The caster passes their hand over a target not produced or previously affected by this spell, revealing [best] extra doses, portions or slots of...
   1MD: any food or drink...
   2MD: or poison or drug...
   3MD: or potion or magical ingredient...
   4MD: or small creature or object. 
2. Dirty Needle
   R: self T: n/a D: [dice] hits
   Caster draws a light epee +1 from thin air, and gains proficiency in such weapons for the duration. Those struck by the blade save v. disease or contract one of the following at random: blinding sickness, bubonic plague, cackle fever, filth fever, leprosy, mindfire, red ache, shakes, or slimy doom.
3. Ant Haul
   R: touch T: creature D: [sum] hours.
   [dice] copies of the creature appear. They follow the original in a long line, mimicking its actions, and carrying its burdens.  If slain, or at the end of the duration, the copies curl up into a dry little ball. Each corpse may be boiled into 1 ration of unpleasant soup.
4. Carrion Compass
   R: touch T: corpse or undead creature of [dice] HD or fewer D: [sum] miles
   Caster touches a part of the target, traditionally an organ or bone, and it begins to levitate. If the target was a corpse, their piece begins to slowly levitate towards the person they would most blame for their death (if murdered, this is typically their killer). If the target is an undead, their piece begins to slowly levitate towards its controller; if they had no controller, the piece levitates towards their resurrector; if raised as undead by some curséd tomb or battlefield or artifact instead of a necromancer, the piece levitates towards some curséd tomb or battlefield or artifact; if none of these things are the case, or if they were the case but the controller/resurrector/curséd tomb has been slain or destroyed, the piece burns to ash. 
5. Face of the Devourer
   R: touch T: creature D: [sum] minutes
   Target's face gains a hideous new shape, such as a half-melted visage with insect legs instead of teeth, seeping pits instead of eyes, and suckered tongues dangling from its misshapen mouth. The face is different every time this spell is cast. This spell does not interfere with the target’s senses or breathing, though it might prevent the target from speaking. The face is so horrible that it triggers a morale check with a [dice] penalty in any creature who looks upon it, including the target if they glance in the mirror. When dealing with outsiders, the face instead grants a reaction bonus equal to [dice]. Additionally, the target gains a medium bite attack for the duration.
6. Know the Enemy
   R: sight T: creature of [sum] HP or fewer D: instant
   Choose a target within range. Learn [dice] relevant facts about them (of the kind appropriate for Assassins, Monster Hunters or Gumshoes) instantly.
7. Furious Rat
   R: n/a T: n/a D: see description
   Caster summons a rat with [sum] hitpoints and [dice] levels in Berserker to their hand. Once the rat is flung, it's go time.
8. Placebo Effect
   R: touch T: damaged or sick creature D: one day
   Caster mutters some mumbo-jumbo and target "heals" up to [sum] hitpoints and [dice] injuries, fatal wounds or diseases. All damage the target takes is doubled for the duration of the spell, or until they have received a total of [sum] damage (before doubling). Every time the target takes damage, a random injury, fatal wound or disease reasserts itself. 
9. Woundweep
   R: 30' T: damaged creature D: instant
   Target saves or takes as much damage as they are already missing from their max HP (e.g. a creature at 6/9 hitpoints is now at 3/9 hitpoints). This process is excruciating. The damage cannot directly kill the target, but if it reduces them to 0 hitpoints they must check constitution or fall unconscious from the pain, and if they have sustained any injuries they must again check constitution or suffer that injury a second time.
10. Retained Foreign Object
    R: touch T: living creature D: indefinite
    Before casting this spell, the caster must carefully open an incision in the target's torso... actually, it need not be that careful, any gaping wound will do, but casters with medical backgrounds can do this without damaging the patient. An object of up to [dice] inventory slots can then be inserted into the target's torso. Objects can be immediately and harmlessly retrieved by casting Retained Foreign Object again with [dice] equal to or greater than the desired object's slots. Objects can be slowly and painfully retrieved the old fashioned way as well. Targets cannot retain more than [CON score] inventory slots of foreign objects.
11. Sedition
    R: n/a T: 30' cone, originating from caster D: [sum] days
    Caster points a finger and utters a word of power, and a flash of unseemly light radiates throughout the target cone. Intelligent creatures of [dice] HD or fewer caught within the light must save or be filled with an overwhelming death-drive, in the form of a hostile persona in their own minds. This new persona is a creature with the same memories, stats, class &c as its host, but diametrically opposed morality and worldview, and an irrational hatred of those the original persona considered allies. Control over the body (which the old and new persona must share, as neither is able to destroy the other without also destroying themselves) is determined by rolling 1d6: on a result of 1–4, the persona currently controlling the body maintains control. Control is checked when Sedition is cast, when affected creatures take damage, and when affected creatures wake from sleep. Whichever persona is not in control at the end of the duration disappears, though further casts of Sedition will reawaken them.
12. Waste Vitality
    R: sight T: entity with magic dice D: instant
    Caster focuses their will for a moment to roll [dice] of the target's MD, expending them as normal. When this happens, target must check intelligence or also cast a random prepared spell in a not-entirely-controlled manner.

Mishaps:

1. MD only return on a 1–2 for 24 hours.
2. Take 1d6 damage as stitches tear.
3. Random mutation for 1d6 rounds, then make a save. Permanent if you fail.
4. You develop a sudden and uncharacteristic fear of blood. For 24 hours, seeing blood spilled requires you to check constitution or spend a round vomiting.
5. Every edge within 10' of you dulls blunt as butter. Affected tools, weapons and ammunition suffer a -2 penalty to all actions (checks, attacks, damage rolls &c) until reground.
6. You develop strange symptoms of horrific medical experimentation. Save: on a failure take 1d6 damage and describe the gnarly and intimidating scar/condition/big metal bolts in your neck. On a success, take no damage and describe a more understated scar.

Dooms of Sal-Carrion:

1. As payment, your master takes your ability to recognize individuals by their appearance. Marks of position or role (crowns, collars, robes) can still be perceived, but you are entirely faceblind, to the point of being unable to distinguish an elf from an orc or a small child from a shrunken elder. It may be best to have a trusted set of friends (say, fellow adventurers) carry your letters to NPCs rather than meet them in person.
2. As payment, your master takes your face. The exposed skullbone gets very chilly without a good scarf.
3. As payment, your master takes your eyes, tongue, ears, both legs, and right hand. It's time to retire to a quiet university somewhere and write monographs.

You can avoid this horrible fate by creating a new biological species, by traveling secretly to Sal-Carrion and editing the Lord of Three Prime's own double-entry accounts, or by convincing someone who truly loves you to willingly give up their face, eyes, tongue, ears, both legs and right hand for your sake.

Barbarian: Cloudskater

    Tall, thin, broad-browed, blue-eyed strangers come migrating in silk-tented hordes every few years. You don't see them much before dusk. They'll do most things for pay. They're barbarians, of course, but not the common kind, if common kinds there be. 

Skills: 1. Love songs 2. Siege engines 3. Armory maintenance

Starting Equipment: boltcutters (as medium, but must be used in two hands), blue lantern, crescent harp, silver medallion

• A Little Shadow
• B Close Encounter
• C Memory of Drums
• D Round Worlder

Little Shadow
    Your wear a silver medallion around your neck, which is a token of the Moon's love for you and of the protection she has granted your people. So long as you never show this token to her jealous lover, the Sun, your jump distance is trebled and you take only 1d6 points of damage for every complete 30' you fall. Should you fail to conceal the token, by mistake or malice, you lose this benefit and gain the ire of the Sun. His light will burn you like fire. This continues until you create or obtain a replacement token made from at least 1 slot of silver that has never been touched by sunlight. 

    While you are raging, your jump distance increases by a factor of 10, and you take 1d6 points of damage for every complete 100' you fall. Additionally, you may only fall 100' per round. 

Close Encounter

    You can spend a point of Rage to cause a willing person, or a roughly person-sized object, to rise into the sky on a beam of light. It is trivial to move out of the way of the light, so unwilling persons must first be pacified. Later, you can spend a point of Rage to cause that person or object to descend from the sky in the same manner. 9-in-10 that the same one comes down as went up. 4-in-6 odds nothing really weird has happened. 

Memory of Drums
    Every night you dream of war in heaven. Your visions are of ships of blue glass rigged with silver wire and morning mist, swords that burn, warriors slain without a touch by air too cold to breathe, bows and lances of light, starry horns blowing silent signals, and other beautiful things no one else can understand. In your waking hours you possess a sourceless knowledge of how to build, maintain and use inexplicable devices.

    Each inexplicable device has a cost in materials (listed generically, generally available in a city or a relevant workshop) and in sourceless knowledge. You have 1 point of sourceless knowledge per level. Every time you sleep, you may reinvest and redistribute any amount of sourceless knowledge, though your devices will quickly fail without your constant upkeep. 

Inexplicable Devices:

1. Lightning Sling.
   Cost: 10x polearm, 1 sourceless knowledge.
   This inexplicable device resembles a bident with a crescent-shaped buttspike and two toothed blades, each canted about 30° off from where a single blade would be. A cumbersome massive weapon, capable of devastating scything blows, with significant reach. If held from the bottom with one hand in the crescent, the Sling may project a 20' thunderbolt that catches metallic objects and either violently pulls or explosively pushes them. May be used to grapple with armored targets at range, or to pick up medium or heavy swords (or other all-metal weapons and objects) and fling them 60'. 
2. Lamplighting Knife.
   Cost: 10x sword, 1 sourceless knowledge.
   This inexplicable device resembles a rainmaker with a textured rubber exterior, about ten inches long and an inch in diameter. It rattles pleasantly when shook because it is full of lead pellets. When sharply flicked, as if getting blood off a sword, a 24" baton of liquid lead extends from one end of the device. This baton remains for one minute, and then automatically retracts and cannot be reactivated for an hour. Used as a weapon, this is a light club +2, and deals an additional 1d8 fire damage to creatures who aren't very heavily insulated. Mind the spatter.
   
3. Reflective Stonebow.
   Cost: 10x crossbow for the weapon, 10x arrows for the ammunition, 2 sourceless knowledge.
   This inexplicable device resembles a heavy fiddle of some polished marble-like material, with long darts of black metal. When the darts are drawn across one or more of the weapon's four steel strings, they are launched with varying effects to a range of about 330'. You know how to produce the following effects, though others may be possible:
• Slaying. All of the dart except its head burn up in flight. It inflicts 2d6 damage to one target. 
• Frangible. The dart disintegrates into a cloud of shrapnel. It inflicts 1d10 damage in a 10' radius sphere, save for half.
• Freeze Missile. Struck target saves or is rendered immobile for 1d6 rounds.
• Marking. Dart burns to nothing in flight, leaving a trail of randomly-colored thick smoke that lingers for ten minutes. 
4. Ascetic Shield.
   Cost : 10x shield, 2 sourceless knowledge.
   This inexplicable device resembles a flat disc of almost-transparent sky-blue glass, about 4' in diameter. When attached to your arm (donning or doffing the shield takes half an hour), it grants you a +4 bonus to AC. When held over your head, it can bear about 800 pounds of weight comfortably without slowing or fatiguing you, so long as your arm is raised. If carrying more than 800 pounds, the shield violently explodes.
5. Horned Helmet.
   Cost: as plate, 3 sourceless knowledge.
   This inexplicable device resembles a black glass sallet with long feathery antennae like a moth's. When wearing this helmet, you may broadcast thoughts to targets within 330' whose names you know. If you are struck with a critical hit while wearing it, the helmet peacefully explodes, and all creatures within 3280' besides yourself take 1d12 psychic damage. 
6. Hippoere Lectern.
   Cost: 10x horse, 2 sourceless knowledge.
   This inexplicable device resembles those gizmos the Battle Droids are flying around on chasing Jar Jar Binks in Star Wars Episode I The Phantom Menace. It moves faster than a horse, and hovers 3' off the ground while in motion, but if [rider's Constitution score] + [number of occupied slots in rider's inventory, excepting chi] ever equals 21 or higher, the lectern violently explodes.

Round Worlder

    While raging, your personal gravity changes to the direction your feet are pointing at the start of each round. 

Rogue: Ratbastard

    In far-away cities your kind is often born, even in the best families. In this cold and dry foreign land you are practically unheard of. Suits you just fine. 

    A Ratbastard is like a Hellbastard, but with oily black rats instead of ink. Your kind seems to fall, inevitably, into a life of crime. It makes sense, I suppose; your blood is so much thicker than water. 

    You are a Rogue, with all that that implies. 

Skills: 1. Horsery 2. Foreign literature 3. Lies

Starting Equipment: set of ridiculous clothes, sword with two blades (medium), flask of cheese-flavored liquor (3 doses)

• A Still a Rat, However Mutable My Form
• B Veil of Rodents
• C Inveterate Gnawer, Poisonous Teleport 
• D All Bastard

Still a Rat

    Your veins are full of rats. These rats are dangerous criminals. You may surreptitiously nibble on things your fingers are touching — cheese, ropes, faces, &c. When you strike someone with a sneak attack and have a free off-hand, you may make an additional attack against them at +[level] to-hit for 1d6 chewing damage. 

However Mutable My Form

    Your veins are, as mentioned, full of rats. For every point of damage you take, 1d6 rats spill forth and flee. When you would take a fatal wound, you are instead dispersed into the local environs. You will reform [max HP] weeks later, less one day for each rat which escaped the fatal wound (not the rats that you've lost in general, those guys ran off to find cheese). Friends and associates are accustomed to you disappearing for months at a time. In theory it would be possible to permanently kill you by tracking down every rat that you have ever been and destroying it, but this is obviously impractical. 

    On your character sheet, write down "LIST OF FEARS". When something disperses you, add that thing to the list of fears; record the name of a person if it was a homicide, otherwise write down the hazard. You must pass a save vs. fear to approach that FEAR in the future. If something is on the list multiple times, you must pass multiple saves. Begin play with a FEAR rolled from the following list:

1. Fire
2. The Sea
3. Cats
4. Delicious-Smelling Food
5. Something??? in a Wizard's Tower
6. A Grue

Veil of Rodents

    You may willingly separate yourself into a teeming swarm of rats. They occupy at least a five-foot square, and at most a ten-foot square. As a swarm, you take 1 damage from most sources, normal damage from fire, and the maximum amount of damage from explosions, bursts of poison gas, &c. On your turn in combat the swarm may force any number of creatures standing in it to save or take 1d6 damage. The swarm may pass through any opening or tunnel large enough for a rat. If the swarm takes 6 damage or more from any source, you are dispersed. It takes at least a round for the swarm to reform into you, more if they're spread out (say, on the rafters of a feasting hall you've snook up into).

Inveterate Gnawer

    Your teeth, even in human form, grow continually. They are slightly harder and more durable than aluminum.

Poisonous Teleport

    Whatever area you are in always seems to be teeming with bright-eyed sable-furred rats. Once per round, you can disappear from where you are standing and reappear up to 20' away in a location a rat could have reached. 

All Bastard
    In your human form you have a prehensile tail and can squeeze into any gap your skull can fit through. As a rats, you can speak with your human's voice. 

Random Encounters by Stephen Crane

    Stephen Crane was an odd duck. A well-beloved writer, poet and Darwinist, you can read about him on Wikipedia as easily as I did; and his poems are all in the public domain. It tickles me pink to read about how he wrote poems along the lines of "If G_d is real, He will have to answer to me!" and the reviewers of the nineties (the eighteen nineties) all said "this would have been pretty edgy 20 years ago, but now it's a little trite." Time is a flat circle.
    Among the things Crane wrote are a few poems that are personally dear to me. These poems are short, very short, often only eight or ten lines. A great work of art is probably going to have several "themes" and "motifs" and what-have-you. Novels have complex characters, plays have meaningful scenes, poems have multiple interpretations of their verses. Crane's short lines contain no such fripperies, no unneeded details or names or characters or scene-setting or timelines, nothing but the dramatic significance. They're a flash of insight, just a taste of a Theme that could itself take a thousand forms in a thousand other works. Because of this, they're also easily-metabolized seeds of pure inspiration. Each one could be a random encounter on the road, a faction in your setting, the conflict of a character, or a hex (if you're doing Hex24 as I and Velvet Ink are).

    N.B. like most were historically, these poems were written to be read aloud. Do so. Roll the words around in your mouth; why did the author choose these and not some other?

Source: Francis C. Franklin.

    P.S. I started out by writing down almost every one of Crane's short poems, but I had to cut for time. For each poem that made it, there are two more you can read online right now. These that I kept are the poems I think any DM ought to make something out of immediately, practically read-aloud text with no further alterations already. Imagine an old coot at a tavern speaking these words to the party, as he nurses his mug of cheap beer.

1. Black Riders came from the sea.
   There was clang and clang of spear and shield,
   And clash and clash of hoof and heel,
   Wild shouts and the wave of hair
   In the rush upon the wind:
   Thus the ride of Sin.
   
2. I saw a man pursuing the horizon;
   Round and round they sped.
   I was disturbed at this;
   I accosted the man.
   "It is futile," I said,
   "You can never —"
   
   "You lie," he cried,
   And ran on.
3. There was a great cathedral.
   To solemn songs,
   A white procession
   Moved toward the altar.
   The chief man there
   Was erect, and bore himself proudly.
   Yet some could see him cringe,
   As in a place of danger,
   Throwing frightened glances into the air,
   A-start at threatening faces of the past.
   
4. In the desert
   I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
   Who, squatting upon the ground,
   Held his heart in his hands,
   And ate of it.
   I said, "Is it good, friend?"
   "It is bitter — bitter," he answered;
   
   "But I like it
   "Because it is bitter,
   "And because it is my heart."
5. Behold, the grave of a wicked man,
   And near it, a stern spirit.
   There came a drooping maid with violets,
   But the spirit grasped her arm.
   "No flowers for him," he said.
   The maid wept:
   "Ah, I loved him."
   But the spirit, grim and frowning:
   "No flowers for him."
   
   Now, this is it —
   If the spirit was just,
   Why did the maid weep?
6. "Think as I think," said a man,
   "Or you are abominably wicked;
   "You are a toad."
   
   And after I had thought of it,
   I said, "I will, then, be a toad."
   
7. I met a seer.
   He held in his hands
   The book of wisdom.
   "Sir," I addressed him,
   "Let me read."
   "Child—" he began.
   "Sir," I said,
   "Think not that I am a child,"
   "For already I know much
   "Of that which you hold,
   "Aye, much."
   
   He smiled.
   Then he opened the book,
   And held it before me.
   Strange that I should have grown so suddenly blind.
8. I stood upon a high place,
   And saw, below, many devils
   Running, leaping,
   And carousing in sin.
   One looked up, grinning,
   And said, "Comrade! Brother!"
9. Many workmen
   Built a huge ball of masonry
   Upon a mountain-top.
   Then they went to the valley below,
   And turned to behold their work.
   "It is grand," they said;
   They loved the thing.
   
   Of a sudden, it moved:
   It came upon them swiftly;
   It crushed them all to blood;
   But some of them had the opportunity to squeal.
10. On the horizon the peaks assembled;
    And as I looked,
    The march of the mountains began.
    As they marched, they sang,
    "Aye! We come! We come!"
    
11. Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground,
    Why do you stand, expectant?
    Do you hope to see it
    In one of your withered days?
    With your old eyes
    Do you hope to see
    The triumphal march of Justice?
    Do not wait, friend
    Take your white beard
    And your old eyes
    To more tender lands.
12. He was a brave heart.
    Would you speak with him, friend?
    Well, he is dead,
    And there went your opportunity.
    Let it be your grief
    That he is dead
    And your opportunity gone;
    For, in that, you were a coward.
13. The ocean said to me once,
    "Look!
    "Yonder on the shore
    "Is a woman, weeping.
    "I have watched her.
    "Go you and tell her this —
    "Her lover I have laid
    "In cool green hall.
    "There is wealth of golden sand
    "And pillars, coral-red;
    "Two white fish stand guard at his bier."
    
    "Tell her this
    "And more —
    "That the king of the seas
    "Weeps too, old, helpless man.
    "The bustling fates
    "Heap his hands with corpses
    "Until he stands like a child,
    "With surplus of toys."
14. Three little birds in a row
    Sat musing.
    A man passed near that place.
    Then did the little birds nudge each other.
    They said, "He thinks he can sing."
    They threw back their heads to laugh,
    With quaint countenances
    They regarded him.
    They were very curious,
    Those three little birds in a row.
15. Bands of moving bronze, emerald, yellow,
    Circle the throat and arms of her,
    And over the sands serpents move warily
    Slow, menacing and submissive,
    Swinging to the whistles and drums,
    The whispering, whispering snakes,
    Dreaming and swaying and staring,
    But always whispering, softly whispering.
    The dignity of the accursed;
    The glory of slavery, despair, death,
    Is in the dance of the whispering snakes.
16. There was one I met upon the road
    Who looked at me with kind eyes.
    He said: "Show me of your wares."
    And I did,
    Holding forth one,
    He said: "It is a sin."
    Then I held forth another.
    He said: "It is a sin."
    Then I held forth another.
    He said: "It is a sin."
    And so to the end.
    Always he said: "It is a sin."
    At last, I cried out:
    "But I have none other."
    He looked at me
    With kinder eyes.
    "Poor soul," he said.
    

    Bonus G. K. Chesterton prophecies and doom-saying:

1. Deep grows the hate of kindred,
       Its roots take hold on Hell;
   No peace or praise can heal it,
       But a stranger heals it well.
   Seas shall be red as sunsets,
       And kings' bones float as foam,
   And heaven be dark with vultures,
       The night our son comes home.
2. He reared his head, shaggy and grim,
   Staring among the cherubim;
   The seven celestial floors he rent,
   One crystal dome still o'er him bent:
   Above his head, more clear than hope,
   All heaven was a microscope.
   
3. We came behind him by the wall,
       My brethren drew their brands,
   And they had strength to strike him down —
       And I to bind his hands.
   
   Only once, to a lantern gleam,
       He turned his face from the wall,
   And it was as the accusing angel's face
       On the day when the stars shall fall.
   
   I grasped the axe with shaking hands,
       I stared at the grass I trod;
   For I feared to see the whole bare heavens
       Filled with the face of G_d.
   
   Therefore I toil in forests here
       And pile the wood in stacks,
   And take no fee from the shivering folk
       Till I have cleansed the axe.
   
   But, for a curse, G_d cleared my sight,
       And where each tree doth grow
   I see a life with awful eyes,
       And I must lay it low.

Everybody Brings His Own Fire (GLOG Class: Mesmerist Pathfinder Conversion)

    "All schizophrenics are mad, and none are sane. Their behavior is incomprehensible. It tells us nothing about life and gives no insight into the human condition. There's nothing profound about it. Schizophrenics aren't clever or wise or witty — they make novel remarks, but that's because they are mad. When they laugh at things the rest of us don't, like the death of a parent, they're not being penetrating. They're not wryly amused at the simplicity and stupidity of the psychiatrist, however well justified that might be in many cases. They're laughing because they're too mad to tell what's funny any more. The rewards for being sane may not be very many — but knowing what's funny is one of them."
        - unknown source

    This is the second of my Pathfinder conversions, which I suppose I've been doing in addition to the D&D 5e posts. The Mesmerist is a strange fellow, somewhere between a Gygaxian illusionist and a creature from a nightmare. I like the idea of someone who... well, there's this common delusion, that the eyes of others aren't simple receivers but are somehow transmitting, that it's not enough to close your eyes, to not see its face, but that you must somehow close the eyes of the Basilisk. There's a man out there on the internet who doesn't believe that eyes "see light". He thinks light is projected out of the eyes. He's already answered your common objections, I'm afraid. There's nothing left to do but believe him.
    The idea that it's the being perceived, not the perception, that harms you, it's a bit alarming to me. "Not what goes into the mouth of a man, but what comes out of the mouth", and so forth. Goodnight, goodnight. Full credit to Eos at Nobless Goblige, who invented not only this class but also the d20 system and by extension all of Pathfinder.

Source: Absolute Reality, Joan Miro

Class: Mesmerist

    You are a huckster, a charlatan, a lunatic. You're a cold-reading liar, a soul-killed "psychic" who combines childish trickery with overconfidence with emotional abuse to achieve your wildest dreams. Those white-irised eyes have seen things that should have destroyed you, and have certainly damned you. Now that haunted gaze sees the sorts of things that make people think you're clever. Haven't you read The Snow Queen? You fools think cruelty is a gas, and that hardheadedness is the surest sign of wisdom. I tell you, I don't care how many screams you hear, I don't care how many anguished cries: death is a million times preferable to ten more days of this life. If you knew what was ahead of you — if you knew what was ahead of you, you'd be glad to be stepping over tonight.

    If you have at least one template of Mesmerist, you may wear light armor, and never fumble while using knives, clubs or staves. You gain +1 to reactions on odd-numbered levels, and inflict a +1 penalty to enemy morale rolls for every even-numbered level. The spells of the Orthodox Wizard count as being from your school.

Skills: 1. Bullying 2. Mechanical convection incubators 3. Addiction
Starting Equipment: Cheap suit (as unarmored), flask of holy water (3 doses), flask of fire water (3 doses), spellbook.

• A Stare, +1 MD, roll for a spell
• B Suggestion, Mind Palace
• C Eyelights, +1 MD
• D Domination,

Stare
    At will, you may stare at any intelligent creature you can see. The target is befuddled, and you may force them to suffer a penalty to any save you see them make equal to your [level]. This penalty is doubled for saves v. mind-altering effects. Once per round you may befuddle them such that they take an additional [level] points of damage from a melee attack. Finally, choose one stare improvement from the list below the class features.
    Targets never realize that you are staring at them, and do not remember afterwards. While staring you are not required to maintain unbroken eye contact — you may blink, or briefly glance away to find your footing or pick up an object — but you cannot read a text, scrutinize the workings of a trap, or do anything else that would require significant visual attention. The stare ends when you choose to look away or the target moves out of view for more than a moment. You can only stare at one target at a time, though any number of Mesmerists may stare at the same target.

Implant Suggestion
    You may implant powerful hypnotic suggestions in the minds of friends and allies, and enemies as well if preparation is taken. To do this, you need to first develop the suggestion inside your Mind Palace, and keep it prepared there. You may keep as many suggestions prepared as you have [levels].
    To implant a suggestion you must make direct skin-to-skin contact with the target — a handshake is plenty, though a fatherly pat on the head, or a steady hand on the shoulder that ju-uu-ust brushes the neck with a pinkie or the collarbone with a thumb, will do just as well in different circumstances.
    When you implant a suggestion, it's gone and cannot be reused unless prepared again. You may only have one of your suggestions implanted in a creature at one time, but you may have any number of them extant.

Mind Palace
    When dreaming, drunk, high or otherwise in an altered state, you may project your mind into a construction contained within itself. This construction bears a stark resemblance to an old and comfortable country house, with creaky floorboards, narrow and crooked stairs, ugly paintings on the walls depicting yourself in various costumes, a quiet and somewhat dusty library containing every book you've ever read, a kennel containing your prepared spells, a study where you may prepare suggestions, a hall of statues and mirrors, a dining room set for a feast, and a grand atrium in the center which looks up at a black and starless sky. This is your Mind Palace, made just for you. It's quite empty — not the emptiness of abandonment, or of the open grave, but of anticipation, as if the whole place is holding its breath waiting for the honored guests.
    In the Palace, you may consider your schemes and plans, develop suggestions, prepare spells, read your books, or walk among your collections. The mind may move as the body rests. You can bring willing people to the Palace as guests by sleeping next to them, getting drunk from the same wine, high from the same chemic, etc.

Eyelights
    Study, training and introspection has made your gaze more palpable. Choose three stare improvements now.

Domination
    Your mind is as pure and clean as formaldehyde. Even the fools who once doubted you can't deny that for much longer. Gain the CR3 trigger When I next hear you speak and the CR5 effect , I will unflinchingly obey the next simple command I am given. immediately.
    When you and an NPC are off-screen together for more than an hour, you can declare that they have become your thrall. Your thralls behave normally, except they treat your opinion as their opinion, act on your suggestions as they would on their own ideas, and become very offended if someone suggests something negative about your character.
    Maintaining this level of constant control over someone is exhausting. You suffer a -1 penalty to all checks per thrall you control, and you lose at least as many inventory slots as they have HD (plus however many more if their nature is draconic or divine or so forth. DM's call). You may wish to invest in a nice walking stick.
    You may release a thrall at-will, and they will not recall the experience as being out of the ordinary, though it will take you at least a month to recover your vitality. Your thralls are not released upon your death.

Stare Improvements

• Alluring. Target finds you fascinating, and suffers penalty to initiative checks.
• Deceiving. Target's ability to detect falsehood fails them. They cannot pierce illusions, and they must save to disbelieve any lie not immediately disproven (no "the sky is green").
• Disorienting. Target finds their own vision beginning to flash and darken, and suffers the penalty to to-hit rolls.
• Disquieting. Target becomes oddly frightened, and must pass a morale check to enter darkness or deep water.
• Oscillating. Target's vision swims, and they perceive only vague movement and colors past 30'.
• Sapping. Target feels their supernatural abilities weaken, and suffers the penalty to [sum].
• Stupefying. Target's hands grow clumsy, and they suffer the penalty to skill rolls.
• Binding. Target's soul grows heavy, and they suffer the penalty to attempts to escape.
• Dismissing. Target feels uncomfortable and has a desire to leave the situation.
• Dying. Target knows they are doomed, and the penalty is added to all damage inflicted on them.

Developing Suggestions
    A suggestion has two components: the trigger and the effect. Learning new triggers/effects is one of the essential parts of becoming a more capable Mesmerist. Mesmerists may share any triggers/effects they know by visiting each others' Mind Palaces, and you will likely discover or invent more of them in play.
    Some more complicated triggers/effects require more knowledge of the target's mental state and so have an associated cold-reading number. To implant a suggestion with a CR, you must know at least that many interesting facts about the target. "Interesting facts" are interesting to the target: names of parents, names of children, place of birth, date of birth, significant regrets, major hobbies, occupations, details of love-life — in short, the sort of thing they would be delighted to hear a fortune-teller guess about them.
    Preparing a suggestion takes one hour, plus one hour per CR.

Example Triggers:

1. When I next roll a save against a spell
2. When I next experience a mind-altering effect
3. When I next make eye contact with you
4. When I next am in darkness
5. CR1: When I next enter combat
6. CR1: When I next become angry
7. CR3: When I become angry
8. CR1: When I next roll to use a skill
9. CR3: When I roll to use a skill

Example Effects:

1. , I will experience agony for one round.
2. , I will add your [level] to the result.
3. , my legs will go limp for one round.
4. , you will be able to see through my eyes for 1 minute per your [level].
5. CR1: , I and every intelligent creature within 30' will suddenly perceive you as being present.
6. CR1: , my face will contort into a hideous and demonic mask, forcing saves vs. fear from all creatures unprepared for this.
7. CR1: , I will gain 1d6 plus your [level] temporary HP.
8. CR2: , I will enter a violent rage.
9. CR3: , I will begin to levitate, gaining the ability to float at walking speed in any direction for one minute.

Mesmerist Spells:

1. Unwitting Ally
   R: sight T: [dice] creatures D: [sum] rounds
   Caster's stare inflicts paranoia and confusion. Each target saves individually; those who fail become unusually aggressive and lose the ability to distinguish friend from foe. For the purposes of spells, abilities, flanking and backstabbing, &c, affected creatures are no one's "ally", everyone's "enemy", and never "willing".
   Affected creatures are still capable of tactical thinking and, perceiving themselves to be surrounded by enemies, will prefer to retreat. If trapped in close proximity to other creatures they will fight desperately to escape.
2. Animate Rope
   R: touch T: a length of flexible cord, rope or chain no more than [sum]*10' long D: until dispelled
   Target rope lives. It is obedient to the caster's spoken commands, can climb as well as a large python, can stand half its length tall and pull itself up by one end, can knot or unknot itself, and doesn't mind being climbed. When not moving the animated rope is indistinguishable from normal rope, unless in very close proximity to fire, in which case it flinches.
   If cut, the longer piece is the animated rope until reduced below 5' in length.
   Animated rope can't tell people other than its caster apart, can't perceive anything except touch and its master's voice, doesn't understand that other creatures have senses other than touch, can't remember more than [dice] words outside of its caster's presence and is, of course, terrified of fire. Besides these restrictions it is an exceedingly dangerous assassin.
3. Bungle
   R: touch T: a creature D: [dice] checks or attacks
   Target takes a -[sum] penalty to all checks or to-hit rolls, no save.
4. Color Spray
   R: projected from self T: a 15' cone D: instant
   A burst of violent color erupts from the caster's fingertips. Creatures in the target cone save or are stunned for a round, falling prone and dropping any held items, then save again or suffer disadvantage on any sight-based checks for [best] rounds. Those with no sense of sight are immune to this spell. Creatures with more than [dice] HD are not stunned. If cast with more than 1MD,  creatures with 1 HD or fewer don't get to save.
5. Fool's Gold
   R: touch T: [sum] coins, pieces of jewelry or other tiny valuables D: n/a
   Caster lays a curse on target valuables. Creatures receive a penalty to saves v. hostile magic equal to the number of these valuables they have accepted from the caster as payment for goods and services. Valuables given as a gift have no effect, nor do valuables slipped into a pocket against the pants-wearer's knowledge, though the caster may tip outrageously. This effect lasts as long as they keep the objects in their possession: creatures do not need to actually carry the valuables on their person for the effect to occur. Effect ends when target valuables are passed on to a third party.
6. Blistering Invective
   R: voice T: creatures capable of understanding your tone, if not your words D: instant
   Caster utters a stream of foul language so obscene, menacing and blasphemous that those who hear it who have any reason to suspect it might be directed at them are physically harmed. All such creatures check morale: those who fail flee, and must also save or take [best] damage and be set on fire. Creatures immune to fire must still check morale, but creatures who cannot be intimidated are unaffected by this spell.
   

A GLOG Grimoire

    There are a number of spells I've written which have no wizard to accompany them as yet. I've decided to write them down, so that someone might get some use out of them regardless. Friend-of-the-blog Phlox has done this and so spurred my decision.

    General notes: these are spells for the GLOG, Arnold Kemp's (pbuh) fantasy heartbreaker. They operate on Magic Dice. Unless specified otherwise, assume that:

• if a spell targets a creature/object/point within range that target must be visible to the caster along an unobstructed path
• a cone is 60° and so is 10' wide 10' away from the caster, 30' wide 30' from the caster, and so forth
  
• beams and rays with a provided length but no provided width are about the thickness of a pencil
• a 10' sphere has a radius of 10', a 20' sphere a radius of 20', and so forth
• a 10' cube has an edge-length of 10', a 20' cube an edge-length of 20', and so forth
• spells which apply a condition to creatures provide them a save at casting time and otherwise continue for the duration
• spells with an indefinite duration keep the MD invested in them until they are ended by other means
  
• you should ask your DM about any specifics, which will vary by campaign
  

Spells

1. Death Glow
   R: touch T: an object or creature D: [sum] minutes
   The target glows with an unhealthful light for the duration. Unembodied undead are unceremoniously pushed 30' from the target. Embodied undead make a morale check with a [dice] penalty when they first see this light, even if they normally can't make morale checks. In this light, all failed checks are fumbles and all successful ones are critical. Creatures whose unprotected skin is exposed to this light (and the target, if it be a creature) must save every minute of total exposure or take [dice] damage to a random stat.
   
2. Vorpal Air
   R: n/a T: [dice]*20' cone, originating from caster D: instant
   The caster points a finger and utters a word of power, and a cone of vorpal air bursts forth. Creatures and objects within the cone save or take [sum] damage as if struck by many invisible blades from all directions. At 2MD, creatures are only permitted to save if their armor is at least leather and flimsy objects and structures are hacked apart, at 3MD creatures only save if wearing at least chain and objects softer than stone are shredded, at 4MD creatures must have at least plate and any non-metallic object is chopped to bits.
   
3. Predator
   R: n/a T: self D: [dice] rounds
   Caster is rendered invisible for the duration, and can move [dice] times again as fast. They can deal [sum] magical damage with a touch (roll to-hit vs. unarmored if in combat), no save. This is extremely frightening.
   
4. Summon Cosmic Crocodilian
   R: 20' T: an area large enough for a bigass crocodile D: indefinite
   A cosmic crocodilian (a type of Outsider) appears in the target area. It is not grateful, and it is not obedient. It weighs [dice] tonnes, has AC as plate and [sum]*2 HP, and its jaws are a massive weapon which automatically grapple those it strikes.
   Like all crocodiles, the cosmic crocodilian can perform a Death Roll to force a creature caught in its jaws to save or die. Unlike most crocodiles, a cosmic crocodilian has 18 intelligence, 2MD, and knows the spells Haste, Mummify Bird, Turn Hippopotamus (works at -1 [dice] against other horses) and Summon Cosmic Crocodilian.
   
5. Cone of Collapse
   R: n/a T: [dice]*20' cone, originating from caster D: one round
   All creatures, objects, buildings, landscapes and materials in the targeted area, including air, briefly experience a significantly increased F𝓰, the force due to gravity. Effects are highly variable, but assume that delicate objects are destroyed, flying objects fall and creatures human-size or larger must check strength or drop to their knees. If [sum] is 7 or greater, not-particularly-reinforced buildings will be damaged or destroyed, and mundane creatures horse-sized or larger are killed. If [sum] is 14 or greater most structures, including natural stone, will collapse and human-sized bodies will suffer massive structural damage and organ failure: affected creatures die, or check constitution to merely take [sum] damage. If sum is 21 or greater every living creature larger than an ant within the cone dies with no save, all matter within the cone is aggressively crushed, and there is a large negative-pressure effect for the duration followed by a thunderclap and moderate explosion when the spell ends.
   
6. Summon Mobat
   R: 60' T: a volume large enough for [sum] vultures D: [dice] hours
   Target volume is filled with [sum] mobats. The common mobat (Pteropodidae Mobatti parbatti) has 4HP, AC as leather, and is significantly less intelligent than even a very stupid person. They will follow one-word commands from the caster to the best of their ability. These abilities include flying around frantically, screaming, shitting, attempting to eat strongly-scented objects, and crashing into things. Those bitten by a mobat must save vs. disease or contract leprosy. The bats disappear at the end of the duration unless killed, in which case they leave behind a corpse (mostly cartilage) which can be unwisely cooked into 3 rations of delicious soup.
   
7. Polarized Shield
   R: self T: n/a D: [sum] minutes
   The caster is surrounded by a 20' spherical shroud of impenetrable darkness, with enough interior space to contain [dice] creatures if they're willing to get comfortable. This shroud is invisible along a single axis in 3d space that passes through the caster's head, which the caster can pitch and yaw as they please. From all other angles, the shroud foils scrying, infravision and all other forms of detection. Because it blocks vision and cannot itself be targeted by spells, and most combat spells cannot "pierce" the shroud and conventional countermagic cannot dispel it.
   
8. Woundweep
   R: 30' T: an injured creature D: instant
   Target saves or takes as much damage as they are already missing from their max HP (e.g. a creature at 6/9 hitpoints is now at 3/9 hitpoints). This process is excruciating. The damage cannot directly kill the target, but if it reduces them to 0 hitpoints they must check constitution or fall unconscious from the pain, and if they have sustained any injuries they must also check constitution or suffer that injury a second time.
   
9. Summon Planetar
   R: touch T: a constructed body worth at least 100gp per [die] D: 24 hours
   The caster performs a long and difficult ritual for the duration of the spell. If they cease repeating a long and complex mantra or break contact with the constructed body the spell fails and all MD are lost. Traditionally they are assisted by multiple apprentices, who may sing songs to keep them awake, physically hold them up, or grab their arms to keep their hands in contact with the constructed body.
   If the ritual is successful then the constructed body is occupied by a Planetar, a powerful force of Good from distant realms (stats to be found in any respectable MM). They are not in any way obligated to obey you. It's traditional for the apprentices to greet the Planetar with songs of rejoicing. Just as traditional is for one of them to reveal he's been Evil the whole time, murder the caster and the other apprentices, and enslave the Planetar to his dark will.
   
10. Crown of Vengeance
    R: touch T: a creature D: [sum] minutes
    Target's head is illuminated by a halo of golden light. For the duration, the receive a [dice] bonus to AC and to-hit. Creatures who know they have wronged the target must save each round they can see the halo; on a failure, they cannot move from their place. Creatures struck by the target who have not wronged the target may save; if they succeed, the Crown is passed to them.
    
11. Tomb Rune
    R: n/a T: the caster's hand D: [sum] hours
    A mysterious, shifting rune appears on the palm of the caster's dominant hand. When the hand is extended before them like a shield for an entire round, it projects dazzling sunlight that deals [best] damage each round to undead, creatures from other planes and magical constructs, no save. When the hand is closed above their head like a fist for an entire round, they are protected by a magical forcefield that grants them a [dice] bonus to AC, imposes disadvantage on ranged attacks against them, and gives them advantage on all saves. The spell ends immediately if the caster uses the runèd hand to grasp an object or if the hand is severed.
    
12. Curse of the Dark Eye
    R: 120' T: a creature within range D: [sum] weeks
    Target creature is afflicted with wild spirits of Tigerdom and Chaos. They must make a reaction check against every person they meet, with a [dice] penalty. If they wish to speak, they must save per sentence or have the words replaced by animalistic growls. If they wish to clothe themselves, they must save at dawn or be unable to do so that day. Any respectable cleric or Wise One recognizes this curse and can mix up a remedy that can reduce the remaining duration, though of course the afflicted target may have a negative reaction to their presence. 
13. Death Ray
    R: sight T: any point in range D: [dice] rounds
    A ray of raw magical power projects from the caster's hand towards the target point. It cuts through wood and earth at 10' a round, stone or brick 5' a round, and solid metal 1' a round. Unarmored creatures caught in the ray suffer [sum] damage, armored creatures may save to throw themselves out of the way before their armor melts. Their armor is obliterated in any case, and creatures who are killed by the ray disintegrate into ash. At two [dice] the ray cuts at double speed and creatures wearing only leather are not permitted a save, and so on and so forth for three and four [dice].
14. Horizon Blade
    R: touch T: a pre-prepared magical fetish worth at least 10gp per [die] invested D: [sum] rounds
    Upon casting, a portal to the Astral Plane opens 3' long and 1" wide. One end of the portal is attached to the fetish, allowing it to be manipulated like a sword's grip. The outside edge of the portal rapidly shreds matter it comes into contact with, cutting through 10' of wood or 1' of stone per round if used as a saw. If used as a sword, it is a medium weapon +[dice].
15. Secret Beige
    R: 5' T: waterproof vessel to contain [dice] quarts  D: indefinite
    Target vessel is filled with a supernatural paint whose quality varies with [dice]. At one [die], the paint renders a coated object or surface extremely dull and boring. Inattentive bystanders will assume the object has some sort of municipal purpose and isn't worth much money. At two [dice], the object or surface is actively uncool. Creatures without a definite reason to carry or associate with the object or surface will avoid it. At three [dice], painted object or surface is eminently forgettable. Even after having it pointed out, creatures will be generally unaware of the object or surface, and will unconsciously step around it or treat it as an impassable barrier.
    Three [dice] is the last practically useful level of this spell, partly because the caster is at risk of succumbing to the effects, but mostly because a four [dice] Secret Beige is totally useless. It cannot be, and has never been recorded to have been, applied to an object or surface. Stick to three.  
16. Torturous Inspirations
    R: same plane T: intelligent creature whose body parts (hair, blood, nails &c) you are touching D: indefinite
    Target creature is afflicted with horrible visions in the labyrinth of dreaming. Each morning they wake they must save. Upon failing the save, they are obligated to obtain 20gp of materials by any means necessary, and spend the day converting them into an artistic piece with a value depending on their personal skill. Details of the piece varies according to their inclination, and with multiple failed saves they may continue on the same piece or create multiple. Upon passing the save they are under no obligation to continue their piece or pieces, but may anyway. After [dice] successful saves the effect ends.
17. Abducting Buzz
    R: 30' T: a visible creature with fewer than [dice] HD D: [dice] hours.
    Target creature is borne aloft by a swarm of invisible insects and carted off to the Plane of Morgellons for the duration. They return safely to the place they left, horrified but unharmed. If the place they left is no longer safe (from the bugs' perspective), they are returned to the nearest field of flowers (however far away that might be). If [dice] is 4 or higher, the target returns after a year and a day, and is likely permanently mentally scarred.
    
18. Summon Chitin Predator
    R: 30' T: an unoccupied space large enough for a bigass dog D: [dice] hours
    A Chitin Predator is summoned to target area. It resembles a dog-sized antlion with AC as chain, [sum] hitpoints and a single heavy bite with a [dice] bonus to-hit. It is hostile to any people you consider your enemies, and not initially hostile to you or your allies For each [die] invested in this spell, choose an additional bonus for your antlion:
    
    • Can fly at 60' per round
      
    • AC as plate
      
    • Gains two additional medium claw attacks
      
    • Gains a sting attack, save v. paralysis
      
    • Camouflageable exoskeleton, granting near-invisibility when not moving
      
    • Can be dismissed at will
      

Hotrod Spells

    At the end of Nick Whelan's 2016 post of an example 100 words for the Magic Words system (which, incidentally, engendered the creation of this blog and its first now-depublished posts), he offers a series of 10 names. These are the names of historical figures (including Hitler, George Washington and Cleopatra) but the reader is instructed to use the names of well-known wizards of their own setting.

    "D&D has a long tradition of big-name casters like Tenser who live on through the spells that bear their name. I like this idea! So in the Magic Word system, using a specific wizard’s name as part of the spell you’re crafting means that what you’re actually doing is uncovering a spell first created by some long dead master of the arcane arts. And when the referee is writing up the spell, they can draw on that caster’s history and talent when determining the spell’s effects."

    Variations on this idea have haunted me for years. Importantly, in the GLOG, wizards often get two abilities — the first, the ability to "breed" spells together, producing novel mutants, and the second to designate one spell as their "favorite" or "signature" and receive bonuses.

    I forget why I started writing these paragraphs. That's happening more and more, recently. Anyway, here's a list of basic spells, and custom versions developed by famous dangerous wizards.

Source: Grimoire ensorcele by naiiade

Magic Missile

    One of the "classic spells", those developed by wizard-kings of eons past. You know them well; it seems like there's little point in me bothering to name them. Fly, the final rejection of the physical order. Charm Person, which made slaves. Protection from Evil and Good. Contact Higher Plane. Detect Invisible. Many more besides. Magic Missile in its basic form is incredibly simple, just a combination of object-location (to find its target), foresight (to circumvent defenses), and a powerful jolt of sidereal force. A wit might say that to have its own version of Magic Missile is a feature both absolutely necessary and absolutely sufficient for a Wizard School. Once you have that, you have a school.
    Archmages, or those who wish to be considered magical savants, love to hotrod the Magic Missile. A few examples are provided below.

Magic Missile
R: 200' T: up to [dice] creatures D: instant
[dice] magical projectiles fly from the caster's fingertips and strike their targets unerringly. Each deals damage equal to the face of the respective [die]. Targets may not dodge, save or otherwise avoid the magic missiles, unless they have a magical shield, which blocks all damage from this spell.

Blackfly's Magic Missile
R: 200' T: up to [sum]+1 creatures D: instant
[sum] minuscule magical projectiles, plus one queen, fly from the caster's fingertips and strike their targets unerringly. Each deals 1 damage. The target who was struck by the queen is infested with eggs, and will have a swarm of flesh-eating hornets burst from their skin next turn for [dice] damage. Targets may not dodge, save or otherwise avoid the magic missiles, unless they are wearing a wreath of garlic bulbs or a similarly powerful scent, which blocks all damage from this spell.

Thoth-Magog's Magic Missile
R: 200' T: one creature D: one full combat round
A glowing magical beam slowly extends from the caster's fingertips and navigates around inanimate obstacles to strike its target unerringly. This deals [sum]+[dice] damage, sets the target on fire, and reduces their lifespan by twenty years. Target may not dodge, save or otherwise avoid the magic missile, unless they cower behind another creature who is struck in their stead, receiving the damage and other effects of this spell.

Fireball

    A brutal spell developed for the mass-extermination of mortals. Its whistle-thump-roar is as iconic a sound of war as trumpets or the crashing of swords on shields. Because of its versatility, lethality and ease-of-use, a wand pre-loaded with a few casts of Fireball is as common a sight as any magic item can be. Perhaps the simplicity of the spell invites wizards to make it their own.

Fireball
R: 200' T: a point with an unobstructed path from the caster D: instant
A bead of flame flies from the caster's outstretched hand and races to the target point. Upon impact, it blossoms into a fireball of [dice]*10' radius, generally conforming to the space (care must be taken when casting underground), and dealing [sum] damage to all creatures caught in the deflagration, save for half.

Klausrod's Fireball
R: 75' T: a point with an unobstructed path from the caster D: instant
A black orb about the size of a mandarin flies from the caster's outstretched hand and races to the target point. Upon impact, it detonates with enough force to crack stone and liquefy soil. The explosion has a radius of roughly 20' per [die] invested in this spell. Those caught in the explosion are killed, or save to merely take [sum] damage and be flung bodily outside of the blast front. For every [expended], the radius of the explosion increases by 10', and a wave of shrapnel and unbreathable smoke extends for ½ of the radius past the edge of the explosion (that is, 1MD produces a 20' radius explosion, 1MD which expends produces a 30' explosion plus 15' of smoke and shrapnel, 4MD of which three are expended produces a 70' blast front plus 105' of smoke and shrapnel). Those caught out of cover by the shrapnel take [sum] damage, save for half. The smoke lingers for ten minutes or until dispersed by a strong wind.

Geist's Fireball
R: 1500' T: a point visible to the caster D: one round per 100'
A bead of white light leaps from the caster's outstretched hand and navigates to the target point, avoiding obstacles along the way. Upon impact a 20' radius sphere is concealed by a wall of opalescence. Living creatures of [dice] or fewer HD inside the sphere save or are reduced to clouds of powerfully acidic salt. This salt clings to other creatures in the area until removed with scrubbing or strong alcohol. If the creature is caught in rain or splashed with water before then, they take 1d6 damage per round for up to [sum] rounds. This spell is deeply offensive to planar entities and gods, and has a [sum]-in-20 chance of provoking reprisal within the next day.

Lightning Bolt

    This spell functions similarly to a bolt of natural lightning, but not identically. A powerful magnetic field is created for a fraction of a second, into which a tiny amount of plasma slightly hotter than the surface of the sun is injected. The field tends to form a long corridor, routing slightly through conductive mediums (e.g. metal armor) and reflecting off of strongly non-conductive mediums (e.g. solid wall of stone and earth), which infamously makes it possible to rebound the "bolt" back through the caster and create an extremely dangerous circuit. I suppose "Inject Plasma as Hot as the Sun into a Magnetic Field, Briefly" is a bit of a mouthful, so "Lightning Bolt" it remains.

Lightning Bolt
R: n/a T: a cylinder 5' in diameter and [dice]*100' long D: instant
In a flash, energy is projected from the caster's outstretched hand, striking all creatures and objects in the targeted volume for [sum] damage, save for half. Creatures wearing or holding large quantities of metal are not permitted to save. The force of the bolt shatters thin barriers, but is reflected off of hills or dungeon-walls, possibly striking the caster and his allies.

Scylla's Lightning Bolt
R: n/a T: [dice] cylinders 5' in diameter and 100' long D: instant:
In a flash, energy is projected from the caster's outstretched hand, striking all creatures and objects in the targeted volumes for [sum] damage, save for half. Creatures wearing or holding large quantities of metal are not permitted to save. After the initial bolts are created, each seeks the nearest creature within 100' and passes through them in a straight line, dealing [sum]-6 damage. This is repeated again, dealing [sum]-12 damage, and so on and so forth until the fury of the storm is spent.

Guinevere's Lightning Bolt
R: n/a T: n/a D: [sum] minutes
In a flash, an orb of energy 10' in diameter appears over the caster's shoulder. It seeks out the caster's enemies, or a target named in the casting, by leaping up to 100' per round and dealing [dice] damage on impact. If requested, this damage is subdual. The orb is as good a tracker as a bloodhound, though a good deal faster and slightly less intelligent.

For the Wise Ones to Record, for the Idiots to Learn

    On the western edge of the world, north of Los and south of the unfinished continents of the animal-men, is the Basking Coast. It is a cold place, lonely even in company, oppressive even in solitude. The forest was planted before the g_ds fashioned your race. Grim pines, in black bark armor, stretch their limbs out over the pit that leads down to death. Grudgingly the forest allows men take the lives of its sons for firewood, and not a few lives it takes in return, by cold and hunger and savagery under its black canopy. Dead men walk this wood, weeping frozen tears, crying out for a fiery end. Things are buried in the snow that were never given a name, and some of them not dead, but only sleeping.

    The lord of the Basking Coast is called the Heptarch, a crude joke in the whaler-tongue. His hall, the Villa, is draughty but never dark. His walls are decorated with great jaws and barbed harpoons. His subjects are yellow-eyed Kings, iron-collared Builders, sullen gorillas, and men rendered indistinguishable by lamp-black. The people of the Basking Coast have clung to their frigid town, between crashing shore and whispering forest, since their g_d put them there, and will stay until He returns, if they are not driven away or taken by the evil armies.

    Generations ago Artur Hoxha, a widely-respected Gentleman Naturalist, visited the Basking Coast. He wished to write the greatest encyclopedia of all the world, the Nowe Anyangy, containing all the knowledge of men, Kings and monkeys. There is disagreement on whether he succeeded.

On the Whale

"...ye WHALE cometh in many fifes, and it is ye Lord of the Ofean. Some Whales have mighty teeth, and others have fmall teeth, and others no teeth at all. Some Whales are larger than whaling boats, and fome Whales are fmaller. What unites fuch diverfe creatures is ye prefenfe of Oil in their flefh, which is efsential to many Induftrial Profefses, but as everyone knows ye multitudinous ufes of Whale Oil I writeth no more on that subject..."

On the Oliphaunt and the Camelopard

"... ye OLIPHAUNT, in Lofian Oliphaus, meaning: the greateft of the Animals, becaufe the beaft is great. It alfo has a lot to fay about itfelf to that matter. They attribute to him, Docilitatem, great understanding in everything. He even underftands writing, and with his long nofe or trunk, genuinely fpeaking, Probofcide writes. Some time (tefte Klohrus) Oliphaunt wrote these words: IPFE EGO HAEC FCRIPFI & FPOLIA ARETICA DICAVI..."

"...ye Oliphaunt is widevaunted ye Ftupideft Beaft in all ye World, for it feems he goeth about Arfe-Firft and ftumbleth trampl'ing, but this is not fo. He doth but haveth two tails, and two Arfes alikewife. and a great maw and teeth like Great Weapons. Ye tongue of ye Oliphaunt is exfeedingly fine, and fituated fo far back in the mouth, fuch that it is difficult to get a fight of it. Men fay this be for fome purpofe but I know it not..."

"...ye Oliphaunt is a mighty beaft, but no Creature is fo feared and defpifed by ye men of ye Bafking Coaft as the dreadful CAMELOPARD. Alfo yclept Long-Legs & Alden's Horfe, ye Camelopard is known to ftrip trees of their Bark and Needles, and to graze on the Bones of Men to garnifh its own imprefsive fkeleton. In ye Fpring and Fummer, when many Camelopards are born to their mothers, travelers muft be wary, for their Ftride is Fwift, and their hunger for Bones is ftrong..."

On the Mammout

"...ye MAMMOUT be a type of Ife Demon. Fome fay it 'marmot' but I fay they be confufed. It be ye largeft of ye Rodents, and burrowing underneath the ground all its life by ufe of its great tufks, if it comes to furface by chance or artifife of Men, ye Mammout is at onfe killed by funlight, and its bones are made into fine ivory..."

On the Harvestman

"...alfo ye HARVEFT MAN is there, not fo called for his Harveft, becaufe he does not Fow, but on account no Man Haveth more Hair than he. Ye Harveft Man is called a fpider, but only by the Ignoramus, becaufe he has fix limbs, and four are arms. On the Bafking Coaft he liveth by theft and fcavenge, as he does elfewhere. He knowth not the fecrets of Fletching, and from his bow he fires wooden rods adorned by ftrange Herbs and Flora. Fome enterprifing Merchants attempt to fell him arrows from ßheen in exchange for Expenfive Furs, but the cunning Harveft Man will take the arrows firft, and drive off the Merchant after..."

"...I have heard a tale where Vifious Wreckers made camp on the Coaft, intent on driving Whalers to their Doom on the rocks, but were difcovered there by a band of Harveft Men who quickly brought Paladins down on them, to their ill fortune, for like all the Men of the Bafking Coaft, and Kings and Builders, likewife Monkeys too, the Harveft Men depend on the Commerfe of the Whaling Fleet, and its Heptarch..."

On the Sparrow

"...ye FPARROW, alfo yclept ye Fparrowcamel, be ye fecond-largeft bird created by the g_ds, and ye third largeft in Exiftenfe, or fo we have Heard. Defpite its great Wings, it cannot fly but inftead rafeth fafter than a man can flee. Its body is of great Value yet its multitudinous ufes is now unknown to the Civilized World and inftead private to ye Whaler Kings: therefore expoundeth I upon yon anon. Ye aigs of ye Fparrow, being of fuch ftrength and thicknefs, that men may ufe ye fhell of them as cuppes, bowles and lampes. The Bones of the Fparrow are like unto thofe of ye Kings and are as ufeful. their Leather is the greateft in all the world, almoft Maille when firft drefsed and almoft Diamant Fteel when boiled..."

"...ye Feathers of ye Fparrow be ye Crown of ye Fouth, and dear were they indeed to ye Lofian when he yet lived. Great farms had they, wherein were raifed armies upon armies of yon bird. The Cattle furvived the Hufbonder, it might be faid, for the great vifioufnefs in their Hearts, and the warmnefs of their Coat, a quo "Furvive", a furréd life..."

"...on ye Bafking Coaft the Fparrowcamel be a Great Peft. he maketh Fport of men, with trampling and fcourging, and tearing the Beams of their Fhips and Houfes in his Fpurs, and drinking their Oil. few things prey upon ye Fparrowcamel, and fo the men of the Academy fay that Weafels muft be carried from Arel to fteal their young and hunt them fully grown, but the Heptarch fayeth this is a Fool's Plan and will welcome in difafter..."

On the Ice Bee

"...ye Ife Bee is beloved as the fecret worker who layeth up great ftores of Golden Treafure, more valued than gold in olden times. Ye Raifing of this Mafter-Craftfman is wide-thought impofsible, for there is nothing ye Ife Bee loathes more ftrongly than ye ruddy face of a Bee Keeper or ye fickening glower of a Fmoking Lamp, and they love to die to deftroy thefe things. Their coats be Highly Noninflammable, and ye Lint off their hides chokes ye breath, and fo they are hated as much as adored by thofe who walk Ye Paths Up and Ye Paths Down in darknefs and light. Ye Honey of ye bees is what I fpeaketh of here when I fpeaketh of yon Treafure. Emperors would pay diamond-weight for a tafte of olde, and many a Wife One fayeth it has powers to ameliorate fuffering of ye fpirit, and to cleanfe ye body of difeafe and death..."

On the Ounikorn

"...ye Ounikorn, fo-called for its fear of ye mighty Eagle, for its fmall eyes cannot be turned Heavenwards enough to efpy it in the Plunge, be an amphibian creature alike to the Frog and the Flutterby. ye firft porfion of its life be fpent upon Land, where it is confidered the most honorable and notable Game or Quarry in ye whole world, barring only ye Quefting Beaft. When its bulk becomes too great for four legs to fupport, it betaketh itfelf to the Feas where it playeth in the deep and maketh fport of men in their Boats. I wouldft have included a Fketch Illuftrationary, but I could find no man claiming he had ever feen the Thing nor willing to defcribe likewife..."

Self Same King (GLOG Setting, Campaign Material)

    It has been some two centuries, many many generations of the smallfolk, since the goblins of Hybrasil threw off the yoke of their ogre masters and chased the invading tallfolk back into the sea. But the Goblin King aged and died, as goblins do, and his advisors — the prophesied adventurers who guided him to adulthood and power, and gathered the regalia of his previous incarnations — followed him into the dark long ago, even the blessed Rellek who was favored by the Goddess of Death. The Free Kingdoms that so many goblins died to create have not grown stronger or more powerful with the passing of years. 

    There are old enemies in Hybrasil, and new threats. The Torch Paladins are as proud and cruel today as they ever were before they were forced at lancepoint to bend the knee. From the south the Hobgoblin Empire swallows the island up, mile by mile, town by town. In the north the immortal Dimitar, the ruler of planet Xater and the so-called "Space Hitler", is once more preparing to invade the realms of flesh and blood. Even the lands of the dead are not peaceful, as the Red Lady and the Raven Queen squabble over souls, and in doing so allow the Ghoul and the Lich to slink back through the Gates of Life.

    But you don't care about that, of course. You don't even know who any of those people or places are; you weren't in my Pathfinder game, you haven't met any of these characters, and you aren't one of the players who rewrote the history of this world by "discovering" the "scepter" of the "goblin-king of old" (unless you were, in which case: Hello. Tell Rellek's player he still owes me $5 from the last Creator Clash). You're here for the first time. I can hear you saying to yourself "Michael, what is all this shit?"

    Here, read a little farther and I'll tell you. 

A map of a section of the eastern coast of Hybrasil. Marked on it are three of its largest cities.

The World

    Hybrasil is a large island (think more like Australia than Britain) a great distance to the south and west of the continent of Oriens. Oriens is the home of the tallfolk; elfs, dwarves, humans and &c. Hybrasil is the home of goblinoids. Some centuries ago, Oriens attempted a major colonization effort in Hybrasil. This effort was largely a failure, but it did do enough damage to the political fabric of the island to allow its perennial lower-classes to rise in a revolution. 

    The grimy port-town that was the center of the colonization effort, Orlivka, now serves as the capital of the Free Goblin Kingdoms; "free" in that the ogres who once ruled the region were all hanged, "goblin" in that a lot of its peoples are goblins, "kingdoms" in that they liked the sound of that word (their political structure is more like a palace economy with dozens of minor outlying counties). To the west is Hark, a gnomic (i.e. built by gnomes) tiered city on the slope of a mountain in the Dry Court range. To the south is Laetia, a city built in an enormous swamp and inhabited mostly by various kinds of lizard.

    Hybrasil and Oriens are landmasses on a plane also called "Oriens", because all the plane-hopping wizards live on that continent. The plane of Oriens is unique in that it is closely orbited by seven other "planets" (i.e. the diminutive of "plane"). 

    Hold a prism up to sunlight, and observe the colors on the wall: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. In your world perhaps this happens because of "frequencies" of "photons" or something. On this plane, this happens because of the influence of the Planets. 

1. Red Planet, with red suns hanging low over a red desert, rusted machines and scattered wheels of bad purpose. Exhaustion.
2. Orange Planet, where there is labor, sweat, the drive to build. Purpose.
3. Yellow Planet, incomprehensible to humans, a place of sickening wrath. Fury.
4. Green Planet, primeval forest with predators in every shadow. gnomes love this place. Panic.
5. Blue Planet, the color of the sky and no earth beneath your feet, falling into a gathering storm forever. Awe.
6. Indigo Planet, a whispery world, dark tarns, long shadows. He who waits for dawn here waits for all time. Terror.
7. Violet Planet, great stone halls, tattered hangings, golden ornaments. Avarice.

    Fairies come from the Planets. Gnomes live there too, but they come back sometimes. It's more of a vacation than an exile.

Its People

    The smallfolk, sometimes called "goblins" or "goblinoids", are native to the land of Hybrasil. Though as a whole they tend short, the ogres are some of the largest intelligent creatures in the world. Similarly, while the tallfolk of Hybrasil (sometimes called "humanoids") are generally big, the term includes halflings, who are no larger than a hobgoblin. Humans are larger and sturdier than almost all other races, and far more numerous than ogres. Most racial features you may have seen in other RPG worlds do not breed "true" in Hybrasil and Oriens, and you may encounter people with an elfen appearance but a human's strength, or an orcish face but a goblin's fear of sunlight. 

    But the tallfolk and smallfolk are not the only kind of people. The veil between worlds is thin in Hybrasil, and you will encounter many whose lives have been touched by other planes and planets. "Planetouched", "fey" and "alien" are common words for these people. Any character can be a goblinoid or a humanoid, but your highest and lowest stat (as rolled at character creation) also give you options to be one of these planetouched. Planetouched may resemble goblinoid or humanoid creatures, or may be entirely novel (though they're mostly upright bipeds), at your discretion.

• Smallfolk (any stats)
  The goblins, hobgoblins, orcs and bugbears. The smallfolk are short, wiry and covered in dense orange fur. "Race", as Hybrasilians understand it, is mostly a function of size. Goblins may be only a little over one meter high, while each step above them adds 30 or 40 centimeters. Pureblooded ogres easily reach 3 meters and 300 kilograms (ogres are not PC options).
  Strength: Choose or roll 1d4
  
  1. Tiny. You can slip into any space a fox could. 
  2. Marcher. +2 inventory slots.
  3. Precise. You can balance on anything that can bear your weight. 
  4. Gnawing Animal. Chew through a branch or a wooden door in ten minutes. Lost teeth are replaced in a month.
  
  Weakness: Choose or roll 1d4
  1. Cringing. Save vs. obedience when commanded. 
  2. Mook. Afraid of being alone. 
  3. Macho. Save vs. blind rage when insulted.
  4. Brutal. Save to leave a fight before at least one casualty. 
• Tallfolk (any stats)
  The humans, elfs, dwarves and halflings. The tallfolk are tall, sturdy and largely hairless. "Race", as those from Oriens understand it, is extremely complicated. The smallfolk don't care. Humans may be two meters tall, goliaths and elfs and dwarfs a head shorter than men, and halflings are no bigger than a child. 
  Strength: Choose or roll 1d4
  1. Educated. Extra skill. 
  2. Dark-Eyed Beauty. See by starlight. +1 reaction. 
  3. Iron Stomach. Identify potions and poisons with a little nip, no negative consequences.
  4. Vermin's Foe. +2 to-hit with a thrown object. 
  
  Weakness: Choose or roll 1d4
  1. Protean. -4 to saves vs. mutation or transformation. 
  2. Delicate. Save vs. disgust when apologizing or interacting with filth. 
  3. Greedy. Save vs. blind rage when a non-party member has treasure that ought to be yours.
  4. Foreign. -1 to reactions. 
   
• Frog (Strength highest)
  Damp and bowlegged, green and a touch slimy, inveterate explorers. Despite cruel stereotypes frog-people do not subsist mostly on bugs.
  Strength: Your thick limbs let you jump 30' horizontally or 10' vertically from standing. You can hold your breath for 10 minutes, and can move through water as easily as on land.
  Weakness: You gain 1 slot of torpor every day, plus 1 every 12 hours in an arid environment. 1 slot of torpor is removed when you bathe your entire body in fresh water for half an hour. If your inventory fills with torpor, you are mostly unresponsive, cannot participate in combat, and travel at 1/6th speed.
• Strawman (Strength lowest)
  Mostly harmless. Perhaps literally an animated scarecrow, but more likely a figure molded from dreamstuff in the Great Unconscious (not that strawmen have any concept of the metaphysics involved). 
  Strength: You are totally immune to falling damage or any other form of massive impact. You can crumple into a pile of clothes at-will and reform yourself at any time. Birds are terrified of you.
  Weakness: You are a creature of artifice, not a child of nature. You must wear old gloves to touch the world, and secondhand boots to walk around. Without them you cannot interact with the world. Sources of fire deal maximum damage to you, and you become limp and powerless in water.
• Beetle (Constitution highest).
  Rarely seen unarmored. Flesh may be banded, or russet, or the color of old teeth, while the face and fingertips are shining metallic or gemstone hues.
  Strength: You start with a suit of samurai armor (medium), a tachi (heavy) and a wakizashi (medium, wisdom-based). You can sleep comfortably in your armor, and if your gear is lost or damaged you can replace it in a week or repair it in 8 hours.
  Weakness: You may not ignore an honorable demand for a duel, and when you meet another beetle you must duel them.
• Gnome (Constitution lowest)
  Very wee. Size of a toddler, with the wrinkly face of an old man. Centuries ago this was their land, before they were forced to retreat beyond the Gates. Gnomes like on other planets now — the Green, mostly — but they've been known to come back. 
  Strength: You can fit anywhere a child could hide, and can perfectly disguise yourself as a boring inanimate object while holding your breath. 
  Weakness: The touch of iron weapons (not iron tools, not bronze or stone weapons) burn you for double damage. Save to miss an opportunity to scare the shit out of an innocent.
• Serpent (Dexterity highest)
  Lithe bodies, skin dry and cold to the touch. Held in superstitious horror for their glowing eyes. Capable of great evil. 
  Strength: Non-serpents cannot break eye contact with you on their own. While maintaining eye contact, you may force someone to make a save every round or walk 10' closer to you, even if this takes them into danger or walks them off a cliff. Once in grappling range you may force someone to save or stand rigid and helpless. 
  Weakness: You are loathed. Folk consider your gaze assault, whether or not you try to hypnotize them, so you must keep your eyes downcast in towns. Few temples permit you entrance.
• Panda (Dexterity lowest)
  Fuzzy and round. For some reason I can't grasp, people just love to have pandas around. I say: let 'em die. This is Michael talking, out-of-character. I do not like pandas. 
  Strength: You are characterized by your bold black-and-white coat and rotund body, which people find endearing. These give you +2 AC and +2 HP. 
  Weakness: All Panda-people are born with a crippling addiction to panacea, a substance refined on a different planet and imported at great expense by Panda cartels. For each day you do not consume at least one dose of panacea, you gain a cumulative -1 to all d20 rolls. After 3 weeks without panacea or medical attention, you die.
• Worker (Intelligence highest)
  The female of the species. Tiny black eyes, long black nails, black-and-yellow wool. A long thick tail ends in a sawtoothed spike. Every worker is a harried emcel. 
  Strength: You can gain a slot of exhaustion to work like ten men for an hour. Your blood is bitter black poison; anyone who bites you takes as much damage as they deal. You can viciously sting for 2d8 damage, taking [highest] yourself as you use your own blood as venom. 
  Weakness: Your rations must be syrup and liquor. Save when insulted or fly into a destructive rage. 
• Drone (Intelligence lowest)
  The male of the species. Enormous black eyes, long black nails, black-and-yellow wool. A long thick tail ends in a tuft of yellow hair that might resemble a spike, if the light is bad. Every drone is a hopeless romantic.
  Strength: You have a thick fluffy coat and a good heart, which give you resistance to fire, cold, weather and magic. Anyone you're holding on to has the same resistance. 
  Weakness: Your rations must be syrup and liquor. Save when you see beauty or fall hopelessly in love, again.
• Owl (Wisdom highest)
  Sons of fear, daughters of the night. They appear like a normal person, except for their terrible shadows. The lives of owls are short and brutal; "You'll never go far, but you'll make a lot of people come up short". 
  Strength: See by starlight, and up to 10x zoom. Your shadow is that of a great bird. When not in sunlight you may draw the shadow up over yourself and fly, silently, faster than a man can run. Your flight is steady enough to move down a 10' hallway without touching walls or floor, but you cannot hover, and you need a 10' square to turn 90°.
  Weakness: You are completely blind in sunlight, and must wear a blindfold or hood to protect your eyes. You must save to make any noise other than a wordless scream.
• Peevish Lizard (Wisdom lowest)
  Chunky, scaled, lazy. The lizards hate to do anything that doesn't involve basking in a warm pond, but that lifestyle can get expensive. This is the great injustice of the world.
  Strength: Your jaws cannot be unfastened from something without the aid of a metal crowbar. You can eat a ration to heal 1 HP, and are immune to fire.
  Weakness: You eat and sleep so rarely that you require neither while on an adventure. Instead, you must regulate your body temperature. You gain 1 slot of torpor every day, plus 1 every 12 hours in a cold environment. 1 slot of torpor is removed when you bask in a large fire or on a rock in direct sunlight for 6 hours. If your inventory fills with torpor, you are mostly unresponsive, cannot participate in combat, and travel at 1/6th normal speed. 
• Unicorn (Xharisma highest)
  

  Generations have lived and died
  in the shadow of the unicorn.
  Schools of prestige and power have been founded,
  dedicated to the hunt.
  Kingdoms have burnt forests to find it.
  Fortunes have been reduced to nothing.
  Still, they hunt the Unicorn.

  
  Strength: You have a 2' horn sticking out of your head. It is as sharp as a medium sword, and cannot break or be removed against your will. You can take 1d6 points of stat injuries for one the following magical effects, applied with a touch of your horn:
1. Heal someone for HP equal to stats lost
2. Damage an undead for HD equal to stats lost
3. Burst a lock, bend bars or shatter a chain
4. Cure a malady, such as blindness or paralysis
5. Undo a curse or hex
6. Produce brilliant light from your horn until next you sleep
Weakness: Your blood is precious. The equivalent of 1 point of maximum HP reduction, sprinkled on a field, makes it rich and bountiful; consumed as a potion it cures wounds; applied to the skin it grants the appearance of youth; kept safe and allowed to heal between harvests you could provide this bounty for a long, long time. Even the most callow of wizardlings could use your horn as a wand that would make them living legends. Everyone you meet knows all these things, 1-in-10 are willing to seize the opportunity. 
• Swan (Xharisma lowest)
  Beautiful, doomed. Legends tell of swan-maidens, and the vengeful princes that love them, and the foolish humans that try to enslave them by stealing their coat-of-feathers — or of young men cursed to spend half their lives as birds, and the rest of their lives as cripples. 
  Strength: You own a great coat of white feathers. Pulled completely around you it turns you into an enormous swan. Worn halfway on and halfway off, and it transforms you into an angelic being with thunderous wings. 
  Weakness: Disaster is waiting for every swan, at the end of the line. You have disadvantage on avoiding your Disaster and its sources deal double damage to you. Choose a Disaster, or roll on the following list: 
  1. long falls
  2. legs failing you
  3. serial killer
  4. poisoned by mistake or lack of care
  5. burning building
  6. horns of a wild beast

Gods of Hybrasil

    The native gods are simple and powerful: the Sun, the Moon, the Rain, the Sea and Winter. The invaders brought others: a whole host of gods and goddesses of Magic, Chaos, Law and the like. The two pantheons are uncomfortable with each other, but open war has never broken out. 

    The most adventurer-relevant deities are as follows: 

Wee Jas

The powers of Vanity, Law, Arcana, Death 

The Witch-Goddess, the Red Lady Mother of Magicians, Watcher of the Well, the Gate of Death, Abomination of Necromancers, the Dark-Eyed Lady

Demeanour: Haughty, diligent, grasping, afraid, conspiratorial, far-seeing 

Symbols: Red skull on a red field, a fireball, an eye with red kohl, a tall human woman in dark clothes and red jewelry, a broken hourglass, a wishing well

Common Worshipers: Wizards, ghoul-hunters, those who perform burials, communist necromancers (the ones who want free undead labor), hags

Why do people suffer? They have forgotten their place and themselves, and have struggled against the world. Or they're demons or necromancers: FUCK those guys 

Ban: Stealing the souls of the dead, which are her property. Raising mindless undead and allowing them to walk unchecked, which is disgusting to her. Raising intelligent undead, which are a blasphemy. Opening connections between between mortal realms and the worlds of the dead.

Wrath: Real Old Testament rains-of-fire. 

Sacrament: Proper burial of the dead and maintenance of tombs. Destruction of the lich and the demon. The closing of portals, the sewing-up of rents in the veil. 

Blessing: A taste of a single drop from her well of power, which makes mortals into mages.

Claw

The powers of Law, Punishment, Submission

The Torch of Heaven, our Overseer, Balancer of the Pans, President-9th-Class of Hell, King of the Burning Times 

Demeanour: Proud, literal, humorless, bureaucratic, patronizing, protective

Symbols: Fiery sword, crossed torch and shovel, black burn over the eye, locks, barbed chains, three cuts

Common Worshipers: Devils, servants of devils, paladins, pirate hunters

Why do people suffer? All planes and all life exist at the sufferance of the Absolute, who is oddly permissive of the sins of intelligent life. 

Ban: Defying the laws of legitimate authorities. Opening portals. Anarchy.

Wrath: A sharp sword in the hands of a Torch Paladin

Sacrament: None.

Blessing: Grit and fortitude, given to some and withheld from others unfairly.

Neath

The powers of Sorcery, Knowledge, Disaster

The All-Seeing Eye, the Troubled God, the Single Twin, the Dark Master, the Bright Master, the Mystery of Faith, Great Fearsome One

Demeanour: Changeable, generous, paranoid, ruining, unpredictable

Symbols: Pyramid with eye and rays, face split in two halves of black and white, glass sphere, black and white stripes, magical explosions

Common Worshipers: Mages, scholars, apocalyptic cultists, spells, students, magical creatures

Why do people suffer? There is no suffering, but sometimes people choose the long, arduous path of mundanity, foolishly believing this to be "better" or "more character-building" in some way. Why struggle when you could wave your hand and get what you want?

Ban: Mundanity

Wrath: Dreams of brain-melting chaos, when he's mad at an individual. Patches of dead magic, when he punished a whole region.

Sacrament: Any great ritual of magic. Its purpose is inconsequential: the Greatness of the Work is what Neath adores. 

Blessing: Power and knowledge — the good kind, the kind that gets you in trouble.