Pupating Dwarf (GLOG Class)

"[...] Next the gods took their places on their thrones and instituted their courts and discussed where the dwarfs had been generated from in the soil and down in the earth like maggots in flesh. The dwarfs had taken shape first and acquired life in the flesh of Ymir and were then maggots, but by decision of the gods they became conscious with intelligence and had the shape of men though they live in the earth and in rocks. "

- High, Snorra Edda. Trans. Anthony Faulkes, 1995.

Look at what they've done to you, the wretched little Æslings.

Look how they've mutilated you. Stunted you. Robbed you.

They took your ancestors up in their hands, still dripping with the blood of Ymir, and toyed with them as a child would clay. They gave you stunted arms and legs in humiliating parody of their own bodies. Fat little fingers fit only for clutching tools now replace the claws that once rent stone and bone. A once-tranquil mind born of singular purpose is now plagued by doubts, anxieties, and vices like greed. You were a maggot, yet they found a way to turn you into something worse.

They did this because they are afraid. Afraid of your people, afraid of you and what you could have been- what you may yet still become.

You hear the thrumming, don't you? That drone in the base of your skull, making the edges of your vision quiver? It is because despite all their efforts, the gods could not make you forgot, not entirely. You still feel the call to grow beyond your prison; to leave this tortured youth behind and become what you yearn to be.

Pupating Dwarf

Starting Equipment: 20' of shorn beard-hair rope, scrap of fossilized chitin.
Starting Skills: Mining and Entomology. Also, roll on the adjacent table.

A: Forsake the Pick
B: Rejection of Gold
C: Instar's Ending
D: Dipteramorphosis

You gain +1 Defense for each Pupating Dwarf template you possess, as a flexible pupal case slowly overtakes your body.

A: Forsake the Pick

To begin your journey you must forsake the handicaps given to you by the gods. No longer must flabby hands swing tiring picks and hammers. Now your nails are sharp and your teeth are fearsome, as they always should have been.

You gain digging claws and a bite that can be used together as a light weapon that deals piercing damage.

B: Rejection of Gold

Avarice and refinements such as smithing were placed in the hearts of your people by the meddlesome gods. Evulse such base lust and alienation from your fellow fruit of Ymir and embrace a purer relationship with the earth.

You gain highly corrosive saliva. It can't be used to deal damage in combat, but it makes almost any organic substance soft, workable, and edible to you within a matter of minutes to hours.

C: Instar's Ending

No longer are you a slave to the clock and the midnight oil, toiling away on baubles for fools and princelings. You sleep as long as you want, as heavily as you want, and not even the thrashing of Níðhǫggr itself will rip you from your warm, moist cocoon before you are ready.

You gain the ability to enter a state of suspended animation similar to hibernation, except you don't need to gorge yourself on food beforehand. You set the conditions for waking when you fall asleep. Pain (such as from a good, hard slap) might wake you sooner, and taking damage definitely will.

D: Dipteramorphosis

In a single moment your consciousness makes its final transformation. As you awaken from suspended animation you go from being the shell, to being the thing within the shell. And it is time for you to hatch. You writhe, rip, and tear your way out of yourself until at last you stand naked and new, dazzling in your chitin and resplendent in gore.

The tattered rags of your old face gaze in eyeless awe at you, as if amazed that it always held such beauty within. But your multifaceted gaze is fixed on the sky which was denied to you for so long. Your molted husk is blessed to witness your first takeoff, before the beat of your diaphanous wings causes it to crumble to dust.

Wearing armor has become... difficult, but you gain the ability to fly at twice your normal Movement. You may also hover in place. You receive +4 to Reaction Rolls, and Advantage (or +4) to all Charisma checks when dealing with dwarves, intelligent insects, and similar creatures, most of whom prostrate themselves and weep in your presence.

Additionally, the gods now fear you (as they should).

1d6	Pupating Dwarf Skills
1	Much to your shame, you were an exceptionally stereotypical dwarf once. Gain the “Smithing” skill and a standard-issue axe.
2	Try as you might, vestiges of your old self still cling to you like cobwebs. Gain 1d6 wistful memories and a keepsake worth 5gp.
3	You are dagskjarr, as some of your kind can be. Direct sunlight is distractingly painful, but you see in the dark perfectly well.
4	Wheeling and dealing with gods and heroes may bring wealth, but also ruin. Gain the “Stealth” skill and a debt owed.
5	You always had a feeling your people’s propensity for shapeshifting indicated something deeper. You may transform into a small animal like a mouse or otter for 1 hour per week.
6	You remember things you never experienced and times you were not born for, stretching back to the blind, squirmy origins of dwarfkind. Gain the “History” skill and an interest in genetic memory.

Avenger of Ymir (GLOG Class)

Ymir. Brimir. Aurgelmir. Midgard's Seed. The Gelid Mother. The Burning Father. Child of Ginnungagap. Keeper of Auðumbla. The Slaughtered One. Æslings' Bloodied Clay. These and many other names they are known by, but none can begin to describe the totality of that primordial being. They were there from the beginning, and pieces of them will remain long after we've died, until the merciful fires of Age-End come at last to sweep away all the rot and corruption the gods have heaped upon us.

Ymir was born from the primordial void, and in turn they gave birth to the first peoples. They are the ancestor of all jǫtnar, it is well-known. But lesser-known, hidden, perhaps even profane to the ears of those listening, is that they are also the ancestor of all gods. For whose daughter could the first god Búri have married, had Ymir not first birthed her from their right armpit?

And so it was that when the rapacious young upstarts Odin, Vili, and Vé decided to strike Ymir down, it was not only the first murder; it was also the first familicide, that terrible evil that the gods punish us for so severely- and no wonder they do, the hypocrites. For when they slew their great-grandparent, they set in motion all the world's evils, the midst of which we still live in to this day.

They butchered Ymir's corpse, mangled them beyond recognition and fashioned their pieces like sick trophies into the plaything that we all know and hate today. The whole of the earth is thanks to Ymir's flesh turned to stone; the encircling seas their blood, which once roiled and sprayed so high that it threatened to destroy even the haughty gods themselves. Such was the terror of that first sin.

Though they drowned the world in blood and nearly extinguished all memory of Ymir, it persisted. One jǫtunn called Bergelmir and his kin survived, bobbing on the blood-sea in a grain trough until they crashed upon the newly-risen land. He is the spiritual founder of our order; the first to keep the memory alive, the first to spite the gods and their plaything.

The world is painful, grim, and violent. But unlike the petulant Æslings in their gilded halls, we will tell you that things could have been different. That things can be different. Better. A world without walls or feuds, gods or tyrants. A world where life is not predicated upon butchery, nor prosperity upon suffering.

But that change will only come with fire and blood, and a lot of dead gods.

Come and join us, if you've the fury for it. Come and honor Ymir's sacrifice with one hand while avenging it with the other.

What say you, o vengeful?

Illustrations of Ymir's life and death by Lorenz Frølich.

Avenger of Ymir

Starting Equipment: spear, leather armor, runecarving set (for cursing the gods).
Starting Skills: Jǫtunn-Ken and War-Lore. Also, roll on the adjacent table.

A: Earth from Flesh, Sea from Blood
B: Stone from Bone, Forest from Hair
C: Sky from Skull, Cloud from Brains
D: Unto the Butchers

You gain +1 Attack and Intimidate vs the gods and their servants for each Avenger of Ymir template you possess.

A: Earth from Flesh

From Ymir's flesh the earth was made. It sustains and nourishes all life, whether it has the blessings of Jǫrð or not. Through Ymir's death, you live. You gain -1 to rolls on the Death & Dismemberment Table per template. You may also gain advantage (or +4) to a Constitution roll once per day.

A: Sea from Blood

From Ymir's blood the seas were mixed. They almost drowned the cosmos, but they will not drown you. You gain the ability to swim and hold your breath for 1 hour per template per day. You may also gain advantage (or +4) to a Dexterity roll once per day.

B: Stone from Bone

From Ymir's bones all stone was wrought. They are the bedrock of all things without which we'd all be floating in Ginnungagap, and you emulate their strength. Reduce all incoming damage by 1 point per template. You may also gain advantage (or +4) to a Strength roll once per day.

B: Forest from Hair

From Ymir's hair the forests grew, clothing the world in green and deep shadows. You know that savagery and beauty lurk in the verdant depths, for you are both. You may vanish from sight in natural surroundings while standing still, and move unobstructed by undergrowth. You may also gain advantage (or +4) to a Charisma roll once per day.

C: Sky from Skull

From Ymir's skull the sky was forged. It cages the heavens, yet within it you have found freedom. You may fly at twice your Movement speed for 1 minute per template per day. You may also gain advantage (or +4) to an Intelligence roll once per day.

C: Cloud from Brains

From Ymir's brain the clouds flew. They obscure all sight but yours, hide secrets from all but you. You can see clearly through all clouds, fog, magical darkness, etc. You may also gain advantage (or +4) to a Wisdom roll once per day.

D: Unto the Butchers

From Ymir's death all evils sprung. Avenge this great injury in the only way those butchers will understand.

You may fashion the corpse of a fervent servant of the gods into a single, perfectly functional item or object no larger than their body.

You may fashion the corpse of a powerful priest or sacred animal/monster into something the same way as above, except that the resulting item is magical.

You may fashion the corpse of a god into an artifact of world-shattering significance, or perhaps turn it into a demiplane.

1d6	Avenger of Ymir Skills
1	You did errands and reagent runs for an old, arthritic troll-wife long ago. She passed some of her lore on to you. Gain a random potion and the "Medicine" skill.
2	They tried to hang you in the name of Old One-Eye for your blaspheming once. Once. Those who lived, regretted it. Gain a length of rope, scars, and the “Acrobatics” skill.
3	You lived among the jǫtnar for a time, and learned how it is useful that most fools believe them all to be huge, ravenous frost giants. Gain a token of friendship, and the "Disguise" skill.
4	You met a human as unafraid of spiting the Æsir as you, and during your commiseration they taught you the finer points of living goðlauss. Gain a defaced idol and the "Philosophy" skill.
5	You went on pilgrimage to the boneyard of a titanic jǫtunn said to be so old they once met Ymir. Gain a fossilized memento (medium weapon, bludgeoning or piercing), and increased comfort with the abyssal gulfs of time.
6	You once rescued a condemned seiðmaðr from drowning on a skerry. Gain a random cantrip from a random wizard school and a litany of creative expletives.

Tramplers of Chains, Liberators from the Labyrinth (GLOG/Troika!/D&D 5E Character Options)

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.

POV: You just finished building that new chicken coop.
(Anaba Bodyguard art by Greg Staples)

Child of the Labyrinth Species (GLOG)

Reroll: STR

Bonus: +4 to Strength for breaking chains, destroying walls, busting down doors, etc.

Weakness: Can't wear shoes. Save vs Fear when trapped in a small, enclosed space or suffer a claustrophobic episode, running and attacking anything that prevents your escape.

Children of the Labyrinth, in their own language. Bullfolk, to most others. Bos taurus anarchos, to gigantic nerds. Victims of an old curse, broken free from their labyrinthine prison. No cage shall hold them—or anyone else—ever again. Never again.

-

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.

Advanced Skills

3 Anarchist Thought

3 Strength

2 Navigation

1 Hunting & Gathering

1 Mathology

1 Run

Special

Once per month you may Test your Luck to destroy any barrier confining you or another creature, no matter how improbable or immaterial it might be. Walls, chains, debts, legal bondage, and even magical effects like Affix count, among others.

-

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.

GLOG Class: Goblin Auntie

A typical auntie, silently judging you.
The loud judging comes later.

Not every goblin is lucky enough to have a mom. But whether they like it or not, they've all got an Auntie. Part parent, supervisor, and tribal elder, Aunties know it's pointless to try and enforce a semblance of orderliness upon their niblings. Instead, they help guide and redirect them, like one might the flow of a mighty river. A green, gibbering river full of teeth and shiny rocks and- hey, was that a goat?

Note that you don't need to be an actual goblin or auntie in order to be a Goblin Auntie. It's all about having the right state of mind.

Goblin Auntie

Starting Equipment: stained apron, sewing kit, dagger, bag of acorns

Starting Skills: Childrearing. Also, roll on adjacent table.

A: Adopt Niblings, Auntie Knows Best

B: Just The Thing, Slap Some Sense Into

C: Family That Stays Together

D: An Auntie's Love

You gain +1 to Save vs mind-altering effects for each Goblin Auntie template you possess.

A: Adopt Niblings

Being a Goblin Auntie means you know true family is found. Found, nicknamed, badgered, and possibly wiped 'clean' with a spitty handkerchief when you want to make sure they're extra handsome. You may designate a number of nearby friendly creatures equal to 1/2 your Wisdom score (rounded down) as your adoptive niblings. Several of your class abilities affect your current niblings.

A: Auntie Knows Best

When one of your niblings rolls under a stat or tries to use a skill you may offer unsolicited advice and admonishments to help them out, even (and especially) if you have no experience with what they're doing. Roll to Save; if you succeed the nibling gains +1 to their roll, but if you fail they suffer -1. You can do this once per round.

B: Just The Thing

Extra snacks, bits of thread, herbs for that one asthmatic kid; your career has prepared you to always have just the thing you need for a random situation. You've gotten so good at it in fact, that the depths of your backpack have become a zone of Schrödingerian potentiality.

You can designate 1 Inventory Slot (other than a Quick-Draw Slot) as a Just The Thing slot that is always filled. You can spend 2 rounds rummaging around in that slot to produce any item that is worth 1 gp or less, even if you never put one in your inventory to begin with. You may do this once per day, after which your compulsive saving and pocketing naturally refill the slot.

B: Slap Some Sense Into

When 1 or more of your niblings are affected by fear or another mind-altering effect, you can attempt to slap some sense into one of them to set them all straight. You deal 1 damage to the target nibling, and they and every other nibling within 30' are allowed to reroll their Save against that chosen effect. You may do this once per day per point of Strength bonus (minimum 1) before your slapping hand gets tired.

C: Family That Slays Together

Even if they never asked for an Auntie, your protective clannishness has begun to rub off on your adoptees. When 2 or more of your niblings are next to each other in combat, they unwittingly start to fight together as a swarming, gobliny unit. Each gains their choice of +1 to Initiative, Defense, or Attack. This effect ends if they split up.

D: An Auntie's Love

You always knew what you were signing up for. What this job is really about. If ever one of your niblings is in imminent mortal danger—about to take lethal damage in combat, suffer a fall, trip a trap, etc.—you may intercede on their behalf through some dramatic contrivance and suffer all harm in their stead. You may do this once per day, assuming you survive.

1d6	Goblin Auntie Skills
1	They have a habit of getting sick, don't they? Gain the "Medicine" skill and 3 doses of your homemade decongestant (extra chunky).
2	You are a 1st generation gentle Auntie. In your case, "gentle" means you reserve the rod for your enemies. Gain a proper nasty switch (light weapon).
3	Insomnia is part of the job, but you've elevated it to an artform. Gain the "Stay Awake" skill and a trashy, dogeared novel.
4	A well-fed nibling is a less troublesome nibling. Gain the "Baking" skill and 2d6 muffins (about to go stale).
5	Why, it looks like you've already attracted a few hangers-on without even trying! Gain 2 random camp followers, each with an embarrassing nickname.
6	These fricking kids. Gain a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of spirits.

Species & GLOG Class: The Trilobite-Knight (Veins of the Earth)

I am not a fan of Lamentations of the Flame Princess or any of its supplements that I know of, with the exception of Veins of the Earth by Patrick Stuart and Scrap Princess.

For those unfamiliar with it, Veins is basically a toolbox and implied setting for spelunking deep beneath the earth. It's far grittier and more claustrophobic than your average Underdark campaign, with a lot of attention paid to starvation, hypothermia, lack of light, mental stress, and the challenges of navigating a world that actively rejects surface-dwellers like you. The denizens of the veins are also stranger than most; the creatures are outlandish without being tentacular Lovecraft fodder, and many of the more humanoid cultures down there have deeply alien senses and mindsets which reflect the fact that it is a very different world you're setting foot in.

The disjointed, evocative nature of its writing combines with the sketchy, chaotic artwork of the book to create a reading experience that actually feels to me like the act of traveling through its tunnels: vague suggestions of shape and scope beyond the fitful reach of your lantern, occasionally broken up by spectacular, oftentimes terrible glimpses of what's really there, rearing up in full color, front-and-center. But even those moments of revelation are small and separate parts of a much greater whole, flashing without context before vanishing back into the dark just as suddenly.

I think it's neat stuff, and that's coming from someone who hates horror on multiple levels. It reminds me that for all of the hole-dwelling I do, I am as much a creature of the surface world as you humans. My domain of topsoil and sedimentary rock is a far cry from the world of deep darkness and deeper time beneath our feet. We are both blessed and ignorant not to know it.

Veins is also more subdued than a lot of other LotFP material. There's dark content like insanity, enslavement, and children being harmed a few different ways (I hate the trogloraptor so gods-damned much), but none of it is lurid or perverse in its attentions like certain other publications are.

This post isn't for me to wax poetic about darknesses, though. This is about trilobites!

Trilobite-knights are my favorite part of the book by far. They, alongside the tiny, philosophical presentist Gnonmen, are like unexpected pinpoints of light amid all the drear and fear.

Trilobite-knights are 5 foot-tall humanoid arthropods covered in clattering plate armor of their body's own making, equipped with dazzling compound eyes and a code of ethics weirdly similar to chivalry, hence the appellation "knight". They don't call themselves that, though. They don't even seem to have names, and they rarely speak. But their sign language is eloquent and beautiful to watch.

They are leftovers from an era hundreds of millions of years ago when an ill-defined but malevolent extinction event wiped out 94% of all life on the planet. They seem to remember those days, and are traumatized by the evil they survived. But they bide their time, knowing that it will be back, and that life will need them again. Until then, they wander like knights errant through the darkness, finding worthy opponents to challenge to contests, defending the weak, and generally being cool little buggos.

The knights remind me so much of the characters from Hollow Knight. Which is funny, because the original blog post for Trilobite-knights over on False Machine was published in January of 2013. That was a good seven months before the 27th Ludum Dare game jam that produced Hungry Knight, the precursor to Hollow Knight.

Sketches of different trilobites appear throughout the book, often accompanying the quotes that mark the beginning of each chapter. They're like the reader's guides through the veins, helping to keep you oriented. You tend to learn your way around after 250 million years.

The book mostly limits trilobite-knights to a few lonesome, random encounters while adventuring in the deep, but as the title you clicked on suggests, I want to do more with them than that. So here's another trifecta of GLOG/Troika!/D&D material.

Scrap Princess, again

Trilobite (GLOG)

Reroll: CON

Bonus: +2 Defense. Can eat detritus as Rations.

Weakness: Can't wear armor or clothing (except cloaks). Must Save when knocked down or lay uselessly on your back like a turtle for 1 round.

Silent, chivalrous survivors of the day that almost killed the world.

Trilobite-Knight Class

Starting Equipment: chitin repair kit, personal heraldic crest.
Starting Skills: Climbing and Chivalry. Also, roll on the adjacent table.

A: Protaspis
B: Meraspis
C: Holaspis
D: Paladin mucronatus

You gain +1 Defense for each Trilobite-Knight template you possess.

A: Protaspis

You are barely more than an upright larva, but you already grasp the fundamentals of survival in the veins of the earth. You decorate your carapace with trophies and mementos of things that didn't kill you- reminders of life's endurance in the face of adversity. Each time you survive damage from something (arrows, a fall, etc.) a total of 10 times, you become more familiar with and resistant to that danger. Once per day per danger, you can reduce incoming damage by 1d12 points.

B: Meraspis
Your first molt has come, and after much fitful squirming you have risen stronger and more confident for it. You gain +2 to Save vs Fear, and can reroll Save vs Fear once per day as you seize on the inspiring feats of past trilobite-knights. You can also use your chitinous body as a Light weapon.

C: Holaspis

Another molt, and you have come into your own, replete with clattering plates and bristling spines. Successful melee attackers must Save vs Dex or be disarmed as they lodge their weapon between your plates. You can also curl up into a ball and roll at 2x Movement for 1 minute per hour. You can roll up to escape being stuck on your back without making a Save.

D: Paladin mucronatus
Your terminal molt. It is a slow (or sudden) decline from here. You fully internalize the code of the trilobite-knight. Your reputation precedes you through the long, winding dark. You gain +2 to Reaction Rolls against the weak, the righteous, and those who have surrendered. You may Challenge enemies, as the Knight template.

1d6	Trilobite-Knight Skills
1	You hail from the shores of the subterranean Nightmare Sea. It is a far cry from the warm oceans that were stolen from you, but it still left you wistful. Start with the “Swimming” skill and a whalebone trinket.
2	You met a dying Olm who instructed you in the finer points of their people’s customs for the dead. Gain 3 rations.
3	You had a grizzled mentor, once. They gave you much, and then the dark took them. Start with the “Wilderness” skill and their old spine-pennant.
4	You arrived too late to save a village from raiders. Start with 1 Camp Follower (Orphan) and a vendetta.
5	You were tapped on the shoulder by a blackfoot gigaferret, once. Once. Start with the “Light Sleeper” skill and a scrap of fur worth 5sp.
6	You once befriended an honorable surface dweller- a rare thing. Rarer still, now that they have fallen in battle. You speak 1 extra language, and carry scraps of their armor to return home.

Trilobite-Knight (Troika!)

Possessions

• Chitinous Exoskeleton (Heavily Armoured).
• Salt-Encrusted Weapon of your choice.
• A Tattered Old Bug-Banner.

Advanced Skills

3 Etiquette

3 Fighting in your Salt-Encrusted Weapon

2 Climbing

1 Awareness

1 Strength

Special

You may curl up into a tight ball of armored plates and spines and roll out of (or into) danger at twice your normal speed. You can't do anything else while rolling.

Trilobite-Knight (5E)

Ability Score Increase. Your Constitution score increases by 2, and your Strength score increases by 1.

Age. Trilobite-Knights go through life stages marked by molting. They are considered adult once they grow their last body segments, after which they molt progressively slower and slower. Since the trilobites tend to live deep below ground with minimal contact and nothing like a solar calendar, no one knows how quickly they mature, or if they even die of old age. The eldest ones seem quite old, however.

Alignment. Trilobite-Knights seem to follow a code remarkably similar to the human myth of chivalry, without all the sexist or hierarchical bits that make no sense to a bunch of primordial invertebrates. Some will deviate from this code, whether out of necessity or disillusionment. Most are lawful good.

Size. Trilobite-Knights stand about 5 feet tall and weigh over 200 pounds from the weight of their chitinous shells. Your size is Medium.

Speed. Your base walking speed is 25 feet.

Superior Darkvision. Epochs spent in the bowels of the earth has not dulled the strength of your people's calcite-hive eyes, but they have lent them a strange luster. Your darkvision has a range of 120 feet.

Clatter & Clamber. Your kind forsook the boiling seas in desperation and shame long ago, but the gentle undulation of your many little legs lends itself almost as well to crawling and climbing as they did swimming. You gain proficiency in the Athletics skill.

Natural Armor. Your exoskeleton is covered in articulated plates of armor and protruding spines of chitin, giving you a measure of protection from a world that has forgotten you. You have a base AC of 17 (your Dexterity modifier doesn't affect this number). You gain no benefit from wearing armor, but if you are using a shield, you can apply the shield's bonus as normal.

Roll Out. You can curl up into a tight ball so that your chitinous plates protect you on all sides. Until you unroll, you gain a +2 bonus to AC, and you have advantage on Constitution saving throws. While rolled up, your speed is 50, you can't take reactions, and the only action you can take is a free action to unroll.

Languages. You can speak, read, and write Common, and communicate in the silent speech of the trilobites.

GLOG Class: Rambler

The freedom to roam. Everyman's Right. "Trespassing". Whatever they call it, you live by it. Some call you a hopeless romantic. As far as you're concerned, you've worn through enough pairs of shoes to earn that right. You've been to distant lands and seen wonderous things, but you're not some explorer with grand ambitions. Sure, you might fight to keep the world free and sacrosanct. But you also wander just for wandering's sake, content to exist.

Rambler

Starting Equipment: walking stick, weather-beaten coat or cloak and distinctive hat or scarf, pipe (for playing or for smoking), a brick.
Starting Skills: Foreign Parts, Wilderness. Also, roll on adjacent table.

A: Irrepressible Spirit
B: Friends in Far Places

C: Through Bramble, Over Hedge
D: Unfettered Vagabond

You gain +1 Movement and -1 Reaction Rolls against authorities and private land owners for each Rambler template you have.

A: Irrepressible Spirit
Years of traveling light over any terrain in any sort of weather have inured you to the mundane discomforts of life, leaving you implacable and serene even when you have nothing to your name but the experience of being alive. 

You can travel 3 hexes in a day while still benefitting from rest and having lunch. You also have +1 bonus to Save vs Fear and other negative emotions for every empty Inventory Slot you currently have.

B: Friends in Far Places
Wherever you go, you dispel the myths and negative stereotypes ascribed to vagrancy with friendliness and cleverness in equal measure. Most find you peculiar, some find you charming, but few can bear you ill will (or chase you down before you've moved on).

Once per day you can reroll the Reaction of peasants, villagers, or other ordinary folk to you (and your party, if you so choose) and take the better result. No matter where in the world you are, there's a 50% you know a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend in the nearest town or homestead who will let you stay the night.

C: Through Bramble, Over Hedge
Either thanks to years of rambling, or that one time you had a lovely spot of afternoon tea with a hedge witch, the land just doesn't try to inconvenience you very much. Rough terrain never slows you down, nonmagical thorns and briars don't hurt you, and once per day you can magically pass through any fence, hedge, or similar barrier.

D: Unfettered Vagabond
No man can keep you down- certainly not The Man. The land and its peoples should be free, no matter what arbitrary laws or lines on maps say. Once per day you can break any lock, chain, pen, cage, or other restraint that is keeping you or another creature wrongfully imprisoned.*

* Of course, all imprisonment is wrongful to you.

1d6	Rambler Skills
1	Everywhere you go, you take mementos of things you've seen and friends you've made. Gain a sentimental scrapbook and an aching nostalgia for a place you know you'll never return to.
2	You once did a brief stint in an anarcho-syndicalist union. Gain a random set of specialty tools and a pamphlet on wage slavery.
3	Surviving miles of trackless steppe or desert has left you well-preserved against dehydration. You need to drink half as much water.
4	You frequent colder, less pastoral climes than most ramblers. Gain a set of winter clothes and a bivouac sack.
5	That hedge witch really did take a shine to you. Gain a potion of antitoxin (lumpy and foul-tasting) and a dogeared copy of Dear Goody Mooncup.
6	Try as you might to avoid them, your many run-ins with guards and other authorities have left you well-versed in criminal procedure. Gain the "Law" skill and a wanted poster bearing your likeness (poorly drawn).

If you're basically playing Snufkin, you're doing it right.

The Masked Ones

Deep in the gnarled old forest, amid the glowing toadstools and the creeping slime molds, thrive wonderfully garish and cacophonous little things.

They are lithe and delicate little creatures, hardly a meter tall and two stones heavy. Each has fine, chitinous limbs peeking out of the ubiquitous, voluminous robes that give their kind an almost rotund and childlike appearance from afar. Their three-clawed hands are oddly shaped and jointed, but equally good for playing flutes as they are for scrabbling up the tree trunks into which they bore their hive-like homes. Their footless, sticklike legs seem like they should hardly keep them upright, yet they move with much grace.

The mischievous among them are known to play tricks on passersby, but most content themselves with their families, music, games, and gardens of bioluminescent mushrooms. They breed and raise many species of symbiotic of insects, favorite among them being giant glowing crickets whom they keep as beloved companions and pets.

When trouble finds them they are most likely to try and diffuse the situation. Failing that, they will misdirect the threat and run away into the forest deeps. But when their hollows are threatened they prove themselves capable with traps, slings, and bolas. Their familiarity with the bugs and critters of the deep woods affords them an impressive armamentarium of weapons, alchemical substances, and even armor made from bits of exoskeleton.

They are known by the outside world as the Masked Ones, for the diverse and colorful masks they all wear- at least, we think those are masks. No one has ever seen one without their mask. It is unclear if they are wood, or porcelain, or something else. Rumors persist that their young hatch with masks already affixed to them- a point at which the distinction between "mask" and "face" becomes moot.

They are no less remarkable, though.

Each Masked One has seemingly unlimited control over their mask, able to change its color, shape, and design on a whim to complement or conceal their moods and actions. Some accentuate the change with a dramatic wave and flourish, while others merely change in the blink of an eye without affectation. Despite their fondness for performing arts, theater does not exist among the Masked Ones per se. Acting, with all its subtleties and theatrics, is just a natural extension of being for them.

One's mask and the way they present it is thus an essential part of their self-expression and identity- so much so that if one's mask is damaged beyond repair, they may face discrimination and exclusion from the crueler elements of their communities.

These sh'khar or "broken" Masked Ones lose the ability to alter their masks without intense conscious effort, greatly reducing their ability to emote meaningfully among other Masked Ones. Some are even treated like they are less than the people they used to be. Of course the person behind that cracked visage is as full and feeling as ever, making the scorn and pity they receive all the more tragic.

Some sh'khar try to compensate for this, increasing the bombast of their voices, gestures, and performances. Others go to great lengths to repair their masks, tracking down rare and expensive resins and the legendary mask-menders who can use them. Still others don't seek to modify themselves at all- they live as best they can, to hell with what others say or think of them.

But a minority most commonly encountered by outsiders will eventually leave the forest entirely, to face the world of the maskless Naked Folk beyond- a place where having only one, more-or-less static face is the norm.

Sh'khar Masked One by Monsieur

Playing Masked Ones in a Few Different Systems, Because Why Not?

GLOG

| Race: Masked One | Reroll: CHA | Bonus: Can change your face at will | Weakness: Cannot change your face or emote at all if your mask has taken any damage |

TROIKA!

Possessions

• A Musical Instrument of your choice.
• Jar of Insect Resin.
• Deep & Raggedy Robes (Light Armour).
• Pet Glow-Cricket.

Advanced Skills

2 Climbing

1 Disguise
2 Etiquette
3 Perform
2 Sneak

Special

You can completely change the shape and appearance (but not the overall size) of your mask-face at will, potentially enhancing the delivery of performances or allowing you to masquerade as a different Masked One in the eyes of outsiders.

D&D 5E

Ability Score Increase. Your Charisma score increases by 2, and your Dexterity score increases by 1.

Age. Masked Ones age relatively quickly after they hatch. They reach adulthood around age 8, and rarely live longer than 40 years.

Alignment. Masked Ones are mostly neutral. Their fairly isolated society places a strong emphasis on kith and clutch, but also individual expression and whimsy.

Size. Masked Ones average just under 3 feet tall and average about 30 pounds. Your size is Small.

Speed. Your base walking speed is 25 feet.

Darkvision. Accustomed to deep forest hollows and the light of bioluminescent fungus, you have superior vision in dark and dim conditions. 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 can’t discern color in darkness, only shades of gray.

Masked. You can change the appearance and shape of your mask at will, as well as the way you emote. You gain proficiency in the Deception skill. You also have advantage on Deception checks to disguise yourself as a different Masked One around non-Masked Ones.

Artistically Inclined. You gain proficiency in one of the following: the Performance skill, artisan's tools of your choice, or a musical instrument of your choice.

Sticky Pads. Your extremities have smooth, adhesive pads that you can use to scale sheer surfaces. You have a climbing speed of 10 feet. You also have advantage on checks to resist being disarmed.

Languages. You can speak, read, and write Common and Masked One. The spoken Masked One language includes many pops, hand gestures, and mask expressions.

GLOG Class Attempt: Ripple of the Primordial Chiming

Stock art attributed to Maksim-Manekin

In the beginning, as the Harmonies say, there was nothing but still and infinite water. For an eternity it stood crystalline and still, until the Chiming began. Its vibrations radiated outward across the water, forming ripples that disturbed the mirror of infinity and gave shape to space, time, and other forms of matter. The Chiming has never ended, and forever rings outward from the center of the ever-expanding universe.

Echoes of the Chiming can be heard everywhere- on the wind, in the background radiation of the earth, during a bad case of tinnitus, etc. But water is still regarded as the purest medium for the sound of creation, and it is through water that bell-priests, or Ripples, of the Primordial Chiming do their work. It is said that they both tap into and propagate that musica universalis to bring structure and harmony to the world. It is also said that they are nothing but a whole lot of noisy ritual.

You are one such Ripple, recently departed from your tocsinary on the Echoing- a pilgrimage to one of your faith's most far-flung holy sites.

Ripple of the Primordial Chiming
Starting Equipment: ball mace that doubles as a bell mallet, a set of 20 ritual bells & singing bowls, rope-belted brocade sarong.
Starting Skills: Perform (Bells, Chimes, Etc.) and Religion. Also, roll on the adjacent table.

A: Waves & Water
B: Unleash Cacophony
C: Quiet the Dissonant
D: Cleansing Crescendo

You gain +1 Save vs Fear (and any other extremes of emotion) for each Ripple of the Primordial Chiming template you possess. You get +1 Save if you possess 2 or more Ripple of the Primordial Chiming templates.

A: Waves & Waters

Ringing your bells allows you to divert and control the flow of water around you. You always move water slowly and gently, with limits- you can't reverse the flow of an entire river for example, but you can allow a boat you're riding to float upstream. Additionally, you may walk on the surface of water as long as you do nothing else but play a singing bowl with both hands.

B: Unleash Cacophony
The Chiming can be overwhelming and painful to the uninitiated, and you can use that to your advantage by subjecting your foes to loud, booming strikes. If you hit an enemy with a melee weapon, you can choose to deal 1 damage instead of rolling for damage. The target is befuddled for 1 round.

C: Quiet the Dissonant
You ring or throw a silver bell whose toll is the utter silence of water yet untouched by the Chiming. All creatures within 60' of the bell must Save or be deafened, then Save again or be silenced for 1 minute each. The bell is destroyed after use.

D: Cleansing Crescendo
You perform a ritual that takes 1 full day, in which you gradually ring more and more bells and bowls around a single target until they momentarily harmonize with the Chiming itself. At the end of the ritual your target is cleansed of one curse or disease. You can perform this ritual once per week.

1d6	Ripple of the Primordial Chiming Skills
1	Surviving a religious riot that targeted your tocsinary granted you the blasphemous knowledge that sometimes, being silent is best. Gain +1 Stealth.
2	An elemental spirit of water has taken a liking to your ritual music. Your singing bowls magically refill with water once per day if emptied.
3	You had very sensitive hearing as a child. Gain a set of heavy duty earplugs that make you immune to aural distractions, but deafen you to all sounds except ringing.
4	You were ordained as a bellfounder before going Echoing. Gain a repair kit usable on bells, chimes, and other small metallic objects.
5	A wealthy passerby was quite taken by your last bell ritual, and you haven’t found a tocsinary to pass their donation onto- yet. Gain 10sp and a sealed letter of conversion.
6	You are a true emanation of the Chiming. Gain the 1st Elf Wizard Cantrip. You can cast it once per day.

GLOG Class Attempt: Praying Mantisling

Mantis Monk, Creature Quest
I know the arms are wrong, but oh well.

Mantisling

Reroll: DEX
Bonus: Can blend into wooded terrain while standing perfectly still.
Weakness: Cannot wear armour on chest or limbs.

Industrious and self-reliant people. Rumors of post-coital cannibalism are greatly exaggerated.

The sight of these insectoid folk ambling down the roads or sitting in statue-like prayer is common along the edge of the woodlands. Most seem to pay no one any mind, for their respectful nods are usually indistinguishable from the way they constantly bow and sway. Occasionally they will beg for raw meat in return for prayers on the giver's behalf, or give odd good luck baubles in trade.

Few people ever notice how the mantisling mendicants molt into progressively stronger and tougher forms, or discover the deep forest shrines to the gods whom they emulate. Very rarely, a non-mantisling will take a keen interest in them and their unique fighting style. Such obsessives are taken in and trained as curiosities for however long they last. Ironically, they are the ones who popularized the monks in the wider world.

Only mantislings and people suffering from advanced mantomania may become Praying Mantislings.

Praying Mantisling

Starting Equipment: prayer beads, raptorial whetstone, chitin dye.
Starting Skills: Meditation and Religion.

A: Deific Arms

B: Praying & Swaying

C: Menacing Mendacity
D: Trickster God's Own

You gain +1 HP and Stealth for every Praying Mantisling template you possess.

A: Deific Arms

Your raptorial arms enlarge and grow sharp, scything blades or spikes along their insides. You can use them as Light weapons. If you grapple a target with your arms, you can make one free Attack roll to inflict damage on them.

B: Praying & Swaying

You master the defensive art of swaying back and forth as you stand with your chitinous arms held out, ready to deflect oncoming blows. Any round where you do not act, including surprise rounds, you gain +1 Defense per Level.

C: Menacing Mendacity

You can splay your arms, legs, and vestigial wings in a multicolored threat display while chanting mantras and harsh, grating mandibular clicks like some wrathful deity. This may force your enemies to take a Morale check or Save vs Fear. You also gain a +2 to Save vs Fear.

D: Trickster God's Own

Your devotion earns you the favor of a wily god. If you spend an hour applying new colors and designs to your exoskeleton, you can blend into any one type of terrain while standing perfectly still. Your wings also grow stronger, allowing you to fly for up to 1 minute every hour.

GLOG Class Attempt: The 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓋𝑜𝓇𝑒

They call you arrogant. Conceited. A braggart. Mentally unhinged. A shining example of toxic aristocracy. Liable to slay the dragon and forget to unchain the princess. So full of hot air that your suit of armor should come with a "WARNING: CONTENTS UNDER PRESSURE" label printed on the plackart.

You have no defense against any of these.

...

But that is okay! You do not need to win arguments.

You do not need anything else but 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇.

No, not honor. 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 with a 'u', spoken with a breathy sigh and a Habsburg Jaw. It is different. Better. Inherently more... 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒.

You live 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇. Breathe it. Drink it. Worship it. Dream about it in the late hours of the night. Your body is a self-sufficient 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 ecosystem, both absorbing it from the world and producing it until you achieve perfect, 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 equilibrium.

Words like "knight" and "paladin" no longer hold a candle to what you are.*

You are an 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓋𝑜𝓇𝑒. Go forth. Consume it. Excrete it. Cover the world in it, one deed at a time.

* Technically speaking, you never actually earned either of those titles, but when have you ever let a complete and utter lack of liege, land, or lineage get in the way of your 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇?

𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓋𝑜𝓇𝑒

Starting Equipment: plate armour, shield, anachronistic broadsword, parade livery, ridiculous  𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 looking helmet.
Starting Skills: Courtesy, Speechmaker, 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇

A: 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Points, Honorophage

B: Smite 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔯

C: Aura of 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇

D: For the 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇, Most 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒

You gain +1 HP and +1 to Reaction Rolls against nobles, knights, glory hounds, quixotic madmen, and other 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 types for each 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓋𝑜𝓇𝑒 template you have.

A: 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Points

You keep a running tally of the bones broken and property destroyed in your reckless disregard pursuit of 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇, and these "points" help bolster your ego in times of need. Every time you take damage or break valuables worth at least 10gp while doing something exceptionally stupid brave and attractive in the name of 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇, gain 1 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Point. You can store up to 10 Points within your 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Glands- yes those are a real thing, ask any 𝒹𝑜𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓊𝓇. Loot lost in this way does not count toward XP.

A: Honorophage

You are true to your namesake, and can subsist exclusively on 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 so long as you keep the gallant deeds rolling. Whenever you would eat a Ration, you may instead spend 1 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Point for the same effect. You must spend the entire meal recounting past deeds and valor, whether real or imagined.

B: Smite 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔯

You may draw upon your body's reserves of 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 to smite those who would dare harbor the taint of 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔯 within themselves. When you make an Attack against someone 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 you may spend 3 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Points. If you do, take -4 to Attack in exchange for +4 Damage if the attack is successful, as you call your enemy out, bow, verbally abuse them, and declare your attack. If you miss, the Points are not expended. Because you are undoubtedly the embodiment of 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇, 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔯 is anything that you do not stand for, or anything immediately inconvenient to you.

C: Aura of 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇

Your prodigious 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Glands have become hyperactive. You may express these glands by spending 5 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Points to create a palpable 20' cloud of 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 centered on you for 3 rounds. Anyone in this cloud takes -1 Attack and Defense as they paw at their noses and try not to be violently ill. This is the 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔯 being expelled from their bodies, you see. You gain +1 Save vs Fear and +1 Attack in the cloud, and you find it quite pleasant and aromatic besides.

D: For the 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇

You realize that there is nothing more 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 than saving your own skin so that you might survive to 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 another day. You may spend 10 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Points to remove 1 Fatal Wound.

D: Most 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒

You have done it. You have completed the ritual of Accepting True 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Into Oneself, a rite involving an idol of the anthropomorphic manifestation of 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 and a preponderance of body oil. You gain double the 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇 Points from all sources, but more importantly you may now call yourself Most 𝐻𝑜𝓃𝑜𝓊𝓇𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒.