Long ago, a vain and despotic king was cursed by a cruel and petty god for defying it.
The god punished everyone around the king, but the king learned nothing. He only recoiled in disgust as the members of his court and family twisted and changed into pained fusions of human and kine; the symbol of wealth the king had surrounded himself with.
With all his riches, the king ripped open the womb of the earth and delved a deep and dreary prison for his former subjects, banishing them out of sight and out of mind forever. Those cursed prisoners wailed and called out to the god for salvation, but the god was too busy gnashing its teeth to powder after the king to listen. And so the prisoners languished in the cold, stone halls until the world forgot them.
Time got on. The king died, his kingdom ruptured and reformed as something else, and the god faded away. But the prisoners remained, bringing children into their labyrinthine world if only to ease the pain of loneliness somewhat- and to teach them. From generation to generation they passed down their clouding memory of the past, the king, and their curse.
They came to believe that they had been punished for their own evils, which grew so malignant that they came to life and took the form of that old lord. Each child was taught that their parents had sinned, and that they must now do better. Never again would they covet. Never again would they imprison. Never again.
Time got on. The earth settled. Stone eroded, and metal corroded. Hinges weakened. The labyrinth boomed with the sound of its doors crashing down. A severe and blinding light shone in its place. When the screaming quieted, and their eyes stopped tearing up, they looked out onto the world that had forgotten them.
And they beheld a world choked with sin.
Avarice ruled. The land was filled with prisons, walls, fences, and cages. The privileged ground the unlucky beneath the heels of those ugly, fleshy hooves they call feet. Every cruelty that had damned the dwellers in the labyrinth festered unchecked in the hateful light of the sun.
Never again. Never again.
They washed over the land like a wave, bellowing cries of anguish and redemption and leaving an almost bloodless havoc in their wake. They ripped open animal pens, seized people only to sunder their bonds or split their yokes, and tore palaces down upon their lords' heads. Then they left as suddenly as they arrived, leaving townsfolk puzzled amid the wreckage. They were certain the beasts were just crude marauders, yet they couldn't explain why they didn't actually steal anything, or why they had the almost preternatural clarity to burn debts and legal documents...
Now they wander the world in loose bands under the open sky, searching for the next target of their divine fury. They live utterly fearlessly, except for the fear of closed spaces burned into their cultural memory for all time.
Most cities try to find ways to repel or divert the harrowing herds. But there are growing numbers of those who welcome and even join them, drawn to the stark and terrifying freedom they bring with them. Their trail is not difficult to follow- just look for the trampled chains and smeared bits of tyrant.
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| POV: You just finished building that new chicken coop. (Anaba Bodyguard art by Greg Staples) |
Child of the Labyrinth Species (GLOG)
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Child of the Labyrinth Background (Troika!)
Possessions
- Big Horns & Hard Hooves (Damage as Spear).
- Thick Hide (Always count as being Lightly Armoured).
- A Labyrinth-Stone Memento.
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Child of the Labyrinth Lineage (5E)
Ability Score Increase. Your Strength score increases by 2, and your Wisdom score increases by 1.
Creature Type. You are still a Humanoid, despite everything done to you.
Alignment. The Children abhor not just individual and eminently stompable tyrants, but the violence and degradation inherent in all systems that prioritize law and orderliness over the wellbeing of its constituents. They tend toward chaotic alignments, with roughly equal numbers being neutral or good.
Size. The Children are broad and hulking, but not exceedingly so compared to their more humanoid ancestors. You are Medium.
Speed. Your base walking speed is 30 feet.
Darkvision. Your ancestors' time in the labyrinth left its mark on you. You can see in dim light within 60 feet of you as if it were bright light and in darkness as if it were dim light. You discern colors in that darkness only as shades of gray.
Horns. You have horns that you can use to make unarmed strikes. When you hit with them, the strike deals 1d6 + your Strength modifier piercing damage, instead of the bludgeoning damage normal for an unarmed strike.
Goring Rush. Immediately after you take the Dash action on your turn and move at least 20 feet, you can make one melee attack with your Horns as a bonus action.
Never Again. You have advantage on saving throws you make to avoid or end the frightened, grappled, or restrained conditions on yourself.
Breaker. You have advantage on all Strength checks to break through chains, doors, walls, etc.
Languages. You can speak, read, and write Common and the Lingua Labyrinthine. It's more of a continuum of related dialects than a single language; linguistic prescriptivism and purism is just another form of tyranny, after all.
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