SUBLIGHT Classes

Arnold asked me for classes to go with the hexcrawl I wrote. I came up with seven that I think more or less cover the scope of what I'm trying to do in SUBLIGHT. Some of these are more based around skill and some are more based around social position, although really I think the two things are kind of inseparable.

ALIENIST. Like a psychiatrist but for AIs. Since AI is embedded in everything this is a little like being a hacker and a little like communing with the spirit world. Hacking is always hard to make interesting in games, so I want to replace pretty much all of it with social challenges, such that getting through the locked door is less about making a roll or solving some kind of logic puzzle and more about negotiating with the bored computer that runs everything in the complex. I also want to establish that AIs are deeply weird, in some ways like people with mental illnesses and in some ways like faeries or demons than need to be carefully bargained with. Alienists know all the tricks about how to do that, with the consequence that they tend to be pretty weird themselves.

SCAVENGER. Understands how machines work. Can take them apart and use them to build other ones. This might cover anything from a safecracker to a long-haul trucker to an industrial saboteur who specialises in precision explosives. I want each of these classes to have some kind of implicit goal, and the scavenger's, presumably, is to find interesting new bits of tech to add to their big rig or robot buddy or favourite gun or suit of power armour or whatever. Can't work with AI the way an alienist can, and might have an unfortunate tendency to see even a sapient robot as useful bundle of parts.

ENFORCER. Resolves situations through the intelligent deployment of violence. Skilled in both detective work and gunplay, and knows when to stand their ground and when to walk away. The class most likely to get into a Mexican standoff. An enforcer could be a sheriff, a standover man, a bodyguard or a bounty hunter, or anyone else whose job involves shooting at people until they do what you want. Sam Spade is one, as is Raylan Givens, and to be honest the protagonist of pretty much every movie.

APOSTLE. The representative of some religion, whose job is to provide spiritual and material comfort to those in need. Derives much of their power and authority from their social status - has useful contacts among the faithful and can, in emergencies, rally the flock to their cause. I imagine this as being a kind of jack-of-all-trades class, with maybe even the ability to borrow another class' skills - so a Jain monk might be an expert vet, a Buddhist would know kung fu, a worshipper of Tiamat the Mother Machine might have some skill at preaching to AI.

SAWBONES. Not necessarily the mad scientist class. Cuts up people and animals, then puts them back together, hopefully better than before. Synthesises their own customised medicines and drugs, as well as viruses and genetically-altered strains of bacteria. The guy to go to if you want a new set of fingerprints, a robot eye hooked up to your optic nerve, a pill that will make you immune to pain, an untraceable poison, a tailored plague that makes your enemies schizophrenic, a fun night on the town, a tooth pulled or somebody tortured to death.

PIONEER. Lives off the land. Understands animal behavior and ecosystem management. Knows how much nitrogen is in the soil and how to fight a bear. All habitable environments in space are artificial, from the smallest orbital oxygen bubble to the vast terraformed hinterlands of Mars, and having somebody around who knows how to maintain the delicate cycle of nutrients which sustains all organic life can mean the difference between life and death, unless of course you are a robot and don't give a shit. The pioneer could be a gaucho, a mountain man, a fur trapper, an isolated farmer or anyone else who's uncomfortable in cities and maybe has an animal companion.

EXECUTIVE. Has the greatest power of all - money. Unlike all these other plebs, the executive is a ranking member of some corporation, government, wealthy family or other high-status and well-funded organisation. They have way better starting equipment than anyone else, and the social connections to do stuff like get out of jail or be invited to the party, but these things have to cover for a lack of actual physical skills and the hassle of having a boss who can tell you to do stuff. Kind of the opposite of the pioneer, in that they're useful in urban environments and bad in the wilderness.

Transhuman Classes

• The Repatterned. Artificial cycling of day and night combined with heavy adenosine control during first two years of life force adaption to state of permanent sleep walk. Heavily retarded for first decade and a half of life before dual wake/sleep halves of brain develop. Patients now exist in dream state, basic functions like feeding, breeding, conversation performed automatically. Somewhat clumsy but incredibly intuitive, adaptive thinkers. Reports of telekinesis likely unfounded. Those of telepathy may bear some investigation.
  Key Manifestations:
• Lie-Detection
• Heightened Empathy
• Uncanny Accuracy

• Lizards. Psychosurgery on the cerebral cortex is possible at any point after the development of speech skills and before inducing puberty. It is recommended that major body-modifications be installed during the puberty period, but small adjustments to the patient may be performed at any time. Patients will operate a greatly enhanced 'lizard brain', piloting their own bodies. IQ and emotional intelligence are somewhat stunted, but high-speed and precision activities are performed with minimal effort; endurance and control of bodily functions vastly increased.
  Possible Modifications:
• Bioweapon Integration
• Cerebral Overclocking Systems
• Extrasensory Interface Module

• Plug-Ins. Key sections of hind-brain are removed and replaced with highly-parellelised circuitry, the skull port providing machine interfacing. Learning time for new interfaces is minimal, regular updates to hardware are recommended to assist bug-fixing. Patient now communicates all needs through the on-board AI. Some basic functions may be performed autonomously. Reports of 'inhumane behaviour' unverified. No AI takeover has been confirmed in a laboratory. Subjects, though more expensive than conventional computers, are incredible proficient at adaptive algorithmic solutions; useful for high-speed navigation, database searches, strategic planning.
  Available Upgrades:
• Mechasuit Guidance I/O Bus
• Eidetic Memory Store
• Advanced Hacking Protocols

• Clouders. Additional sensory input channels must be installed prior to puberty. Mental conditioning should be maintained throughout lifetime, endorphin drip monitored from birth. Client is now a viable node in an ad-hoc cloudhive network. When connected to a cloudhive, mindshare with other members is available over local comms as well as via the central hub. It is recommended that clients avoid over-exposure to new environments to minimise risk of lethal culture shock. Mass consumption of information in safe environments is heavily encouraged. Ownership of firearms is strictly prohibited, as is membership of political parties.
  Benefits of Membership:
• Mindshare with other Clients
• Direct-Download Access to Central Infostore
• Temporary Skill Imprinting

• Second Lifers. Subject should be monitored after installation of headjack and spinal taps to ensure permanent paralysis has been achieved. Nutritional supplements must be supported by direct stimulation of smooth muscle to prevent atrophy, illness. Subjects connected to V12.6.0.1 equipment or older should be 'woken' every few months to prevent disassociation from their unused body. The subject is now capable of piloting almost any android, drone or vehicle, though repeated transitions between host bodies and occupation of non-humanoid hosts has been shown to have long-term psychological effects.
  Common Host Configurations:
• 'Wolf' Combat Android
• 'Raven' Scouting Drone
• Fursuit

SUBLIGHT Skills

So the reason why SUBLIGHT is even a thing is that Jez Gordon ran a marathon session at Ettincon of a Star Wars game from the 80s and something about it got stuck in my brain. I liked that everyone had a job both on and off the ship, I liked that there was teamwork, I liked rolling huge handfuls of dice. I didn't like then having to count the huge handfuls of dice. Here is a hacked-together, drastically simplified version of such a ruleset.

Skills should be self-explanatory. If you're not sure what category to use just pick the one you like. A couple fiddly points - any kind of action stunt like jumping between cars or climbing a tower should probably come under Fight, and I'm thinking of having some low-level mysterious psychic powers to give the Heal person more to do.

Talk - do stuff with people
Drive - do stuff with vehicles
Fight - do stuff with weapons
Heal - do stuff with organic systems
Fix - do stuff with inorganic systems

Everything is d6s. You get six d6s to distribute among these skills, and that's what you roll when you're using the skill. You're allowed to have no points in things. So Mal from Firefly might be like

Talk 2d6
Drive 1d6
Fight 3d6
Heal 0d6
Fix 0d6

and then if he wants to attack Jayne he rolls 3d6. Pick a target number from 2 (super easy) to 6 (super hard). Jayne's guard is up so let's say that's 5 (hard). To win, Mal has to roll 5 or above at least once. If he rolls 4 5 6, that's two successes, so he wins twice. If he rolls 1 2 3 he fails and Jayne gets to shoot him.

The simplest way to manage hit points is that each player starts off with three Wounds and whenever someone rolls a success against you, you lose one. So if Mal rolls 4 5 6 he hits Jayne twice and Jayne has one Wound left. If he loses that he starts to bleed out and Simon has to roll Heal to stabilize him. There's no initiative - the person who says they attack first is the person that gets to attack first.

You can also use your turn to Help people. Say how you're helping them and then give them your dice from whatever skill you're using. The only restriction is you can't give them more dice than they already have in that skill. So Kaylee can help Mal fly the ship by dicking about with the engine to make it run smoother, but even though she has like 5d6 in Fix she can't give him more than one because Mal is not that good at flying ships. Mal would then get to roll 2d6 and still probably be shot by Reavers.

Your players start with a spaceship. Talk is captaining and comms. Drive is piloting. Fight is manning the guns. Heal is life-support and shipboard ecology. Fix is engine room. Each player also gets to pick a category on the Stuff table, below, and roll on it. They can't pick something they have no dice in.

STUFF:

Talk - Contacts

1. Member of criminal syndicate
2. Member of legitimate corporation
3. Member of local government
4. Agent of law enforcement
5. Manager of useful small business
6. Cultural icon e.g. ballet dancer, street artist, priest

Drive - Ship Upgrades

1. Smuggler's hold
2. Cloaking device
3. Solar sail
4. Drill rig
5. Drone bay
6. Magnetic grapple

Fight - Weapons

1. Sniper rifle
2. Shotgun
3. Flechette gun
4. Rocket launcher
5. Chainblade
6. Monomolecular whip

Heal - Body Upgrades

1. Personalized virus that lives in your body
2. G-modified animal
3. Garden of G-modified plants
4. Low-level psychic powers
5. Mutant extra limb or face part
6. Satchel of valuable medicines and drugs

Fix - Machines

1. Pet robot, non-sapient
2. AI assistant, sapient
3. Robot extra limb or face part
4. Thieves' tools
5. Jetpack
6. Satchel of high explosive

Sleepy Wizards

Wizards (in 3.5) are at their most powerful immediately after they wake up. Technically they have to spend an hour each morning studying their spellbook, but I have never played a game where this has been important and neither have you. (Who wants to do an hour of compulsory rereading each morning, anyway? Wizards, I guess.)

There are of course much more interesting ways you can annoy your wizards but this one is good because days often map pretty well to sessions. However, unless your wizard is super conservative with their spells she always runs out and ends up having nothing to do for the rest of the session. So it's not good, and actually bad.

(Maybe if your game is high level enough this stops being a problem but I'm pretty sure I've never gotten to the point where wizards start being OP in anything, ever, even Neverwinter Nights. The whole high-level you-all-own-castles-and-fight-Demogorgon thing is just a meaningless abstraction to me. Like finding Mew under the truck when you were eleven. Cool to think about but what, in practice, would even be the point? The parallels between epic levels and legendary Pokemon are pretty close actually.)

I've been reading through Patrick Stuart's blog from the beginning (to fill in time between grading student papers, of which I have many) and he provides a pretty neat rule to solve this problem. Basically if you want to cast a spell that you don't have prepared you can still do it, you just have to roll on the Terrible Magical Calamity table. This is obviously a Good Rule. (I think he got it from someone else who got it from someone else, etc etc., whatever.) I am going to change it a little though.

Here's your spell list or whatever. People like choosing spells! There are more in the Pathfinder SRD but honestly you don't want to give them too many. How it works is: for each sleep cycle you get you can prepare one spell. Sleep cycles are about ninety minutes. This means if you sleep for nine hours you can prepare six spells. You can cast each spell you've prepared a number of times equal to half your level (rounded up) minus its level. This obviously means that you can't prepare Level 3 Spells until you're level seven, or you can but there'd be no point.

You can also cast any other spell on the list at any point. However! If you haven't prepared a spell, or if you have but you've run out of castings, you have to roll on the Terrible Magical Calamity Table. The Terrible Magical Calamity table looks a little bit like this.

20: Spell works fine. A bit better than usual, even. (+1 to healing or damage or w/e).
19 - 17: Spell works fine. Life continues as normal.
16 - 14: Spell a bit shit. (-2 to healing or damage or w/e)
13-11: Spell a bit shit. Also, minor magical calamity (you start bleeding worms from your ears, your boyfriend is a ghost now, etc.)
10-8: Spell completely fails to work. Also, minor magical calamity.
7-5: Spell does exactly the opposite of what you wanted it to do, unless that would be good. Also, minor magical calamity.
4-2: Spell does exactly the opposite of what you wanted it to do. Also, two minor magical calamities.
1: Terrible magical calamity (the moon eats the sun and shits burning gold, etc). Spell works fine though

Maybe not exactly like that but you get the picture. You get -1 to your roll for every unprepared spell you have tried to cast since the last time you got at least one sleep cycle. You get -1 to your roll for each level the spell is above half your level (rounded up). So feel free to cast meteor swarm at level three, that sounds really funny. Maaaaaaaaybe you could add your INT bonus to this roll if you were, you know, a lame nerd.

You'll need a minor magical calamity table, obviously. Surely there's a billion of those. Here's one now:

1. You start bleeding worms from your ears. The worms can talk. They have little spiked helmets. They hate the worms from your other ear. You must broker a peace between them or they will make your skull into a WW1 battlefield complete with trenches and mustard gas
2. Your boyfriend (or best friend, or whoever's important in your life) is a ghost now. Only you can see them. Everyone else has forgotten they exist. They all think that you have gone crazy and that your brain is filled with false memories. 20% chance they are right
3. Everything that is a specific shade of purple ceases to exist. The shade is one that has particular meaning to you, e.g. it was the colour of the flowers on your father's favourite apron or the first ooze you ever killed. Objects just a few shades off are unaffected
4. Gravity is now reversed, but only for your blood. It would be a good idea to stand on your head. If you are cut you will fountain blood into the sky and it will look cool
5. The closest urban area to you (including ones you happen to be standing in) now has a different system of government. If it was a monarchy it's now a democracy, if it was a democracy it's run by monks. It's about as nice a place to live as it was before. Only you and your friends notice anything different
6. The next time you go to sleep a purple tiger will emerge from the nearest mirror. It will be about the size of the nearest mirror. It thinks it is the only living creature who knows how to do magic properly and to safeguard the security of magic it must kill everything else that tries to do it. It's the same shade of purple as in #3
7. Game jumps ahead to d6 hours from now. Players have clearly done stuff during missing time but have no idea what it is. Everyone makes a Wisdom check to not have made at least one terrible mistake. Ideally, at bottom of dungeon holding sacred orb w/ legions of vengeful troglodytes between them and exit, but up to DM
8. Climate cools by fraction of degree. Global, permanent. Harvests become poorer, winters come earlier, less evaporation means less rain means rivers become drier, probably. Long-term political ramifications
9. New type of goblin invented. Will emerge from swamps en masse in 1d4 weeks to begin waylaying travellers, stealing babies, terrorizing populace, other normal goblin shit. Also have motivation specific to new type of goblin e.g. break all ceilings, build golems out of dung and nailclippings. If you die they all die. They know this
10. Spell you tried to cast no longer exists. Only the insane and insomnomancers (see below) can ever cast it ever again. It is now twice as powerful and has unpredictable extra effects

One of these also happens if a wizard is woken up while she is halfway through a sleep cycle. Don't wake up wizards. Again, you could give them a save, if you were lame. You will note that this system provides a powerful incentive for wizards to use potent sleeping drugs to remain in a state of Ultimate Slumber for five, ten days at a time. This is very much by design.

They don't go into any kind of mysterious dream world where they have to track down spells through the spirit world and catch them in their teeth! I want to stress that. Mysterious dream worlds are lame.

Also some wizards will say "fuck it" and purposefully stay awake as long as possible. They are called "insomnomancers" and they are terrifying, probably. They gain more weird, perverse powers with every day they manage to stay awake, although I can't think of what those might be right now. They accumulate a few minor magic calamities that they learn to live with. They also acquire some of the following symptoms of sleep deprivation, copied directly from Wikipedia:

1. Aching muscles
2. Confusion
3. Memory lapses
4. Depression
5. False memory
6. Hallucinations
7. Hand tremors
8. Headaches
9. Malaise (a feeling of general discomfort or unease)
10. Stye (horrible eye pimples)
11. Periorbital puffiness (bags under the eyes)
12. Irritability
13. Nystagmus (rapid, rhythmic, involuntary eye movement, also a great wizard name)
14. Obesity
15. Seizures
16. Temper tantrums
17. Yawning
18. Mania
19. Attention deficiency
20. Psychosis

Which is the best description of an evil chaos wizard I have ever read. A big fat bastard with malignant warts on his eyelids who throws tantrums like a baby. The warts probably talk in tinny little baby voices. Roll a bunch of d20s or just use all of them.

Belmothian Necromancers

The procedure itself is complicated and expensive. First and foremost a number of spells are performed to slow the metabolism and chill the blood. Over time the organs are all removed, bar the brain, heart and, of course, the stomach. The blood is filtered out for formaldehyde, while the stomach is filled with gravedirt, to provide an anchor for the soul. When the heart stops beating the transformation is halfway complete.

This process itself does not itself confer any magical powers to the subject, but does allow for some bizarre uses of the host body.

ABILITIES

Undead Traits
By the time the subject is far enough through the process to travel they will already possess many of the traits of the undead. From first level, Belmothian necromancers will be immune to healing magic and will have the positive-negative energy reversal effects of true undead. The subject will still have to sleep, and will be susceptible to critical hits, but these weaknesses will fade with time (levels).



Cryptgut
The stomach, once filled with hallowed earth, becomes a great place to store valuables. The gag reflex is suppressed simply by slitting the throat from the inside, and objects as big as an arm can be readily swallowed.

The swallow can be used as an attack on anything much smaller than the Belmoth, around the size of a cat, for a normal person. The stomach does 2d6 damage each turn as it churns. Egress can be made through the bellybutton if a quarter of the Belmoth's health is dealt as damage from the inside.


Cryptgut 2: Internal Mausoleum Edition
As the stomach distends it allows for yet more creative use. The dirt within the stomach can be used to store animated corpses, ensuring that a host of zombified servants is only a bulimic fit away.

Corpses can be ejected one by one, or all at once in a great torrent of rotted flesh. The Belmoth may store 1 humanoid corpse per level, even when this amount of bodies stops making sense.

Additionally the necromancer may now swallow creatures only marginally smaller than itself, which, after all the bloating, probably means most people. Swallowed creatures now take 3d6 damage per round as the corpses within the stomach clutch at them greedily.


Corpse Gas

Preservative blood cannot hold away the rot forever. The body bloats with gas, which bleeds out of cuts and abrasions. Anyone hitting the necromancer with a sharp weapon must save vs poison or be stunned for a round, as dizziness blurs their vision and and acrid fumes burn their eyes.

This gas is flammable and fires near a Belmoth's wounds will cause minor explosions (2d6 damage to anyone nearby, anybody but the Belmoth can reflex save for half) that burn through the day's production of corpsegas.

If the Belmoth doesn't want to be full of gas they can spend twenty minutes each morning poking tiny holes in their abdomen and letting it all out.


Borrowed Humours
Though the standard Belmoth procedure calls for formaldehyde and a great deal of pickling salt, a little experimentation doesn't go awry. The subject's blood may be replaced with any fluid they deem worth the effort.

A little molten silver will ensure that their attacks always deal maximum damage to werecreatures and fey. Holy water will give them a resistance to demons and the turning of holy clerics. Basilisk venom may grant the power to meld stone, while something as simple as sand can be used to grant damage reduction against bludgeoning weapons and falls. Get creative!

NOTE: Please oh god replace your blood with eels and tell me about the horrible side effects.

IN THE WORLD

Nobody can really agree whether Belmoth was the name of a necromancer, the town a necromancer was born in or the title of the demon a necromancer stole their powers from. Regardless, a whole suite of dark magi now seek lichdom through the spooky arts of Belmoth.

The Belmoth procedure is a great deal slower than most forms of obtained immortality. Skipping the all-or-nothing risks of self-sacrificing to an evil god, lichdom is obtained by Belmothian necromancers by turning themselves undead over the course of several years. This process ensures the maximum chances of surviving beyond the grave simply by blurring the line of where exactly the grave should be.

The procedure is surprisingly well-documented. It doesn't require as much magical power as it does spare time. It doesn't demand as many Black Orbs of Glaunathaix as it does an absolute fortune of preservatives. Almost anyone with an inkling of power could start the Belmoth procedure, but most chose to not undergo it primarily because it requires you to spend several years looking incredibly ugly. Most necromancers are narcissists, and would rather avoid turning into a bloated, vaguely reptilian half-corpse, even if they can pull their stomach out and throw it in a new host body after a decade or two of torment.

Because Belmothian necromancers are so passe it's rare that they form cults. Urban Belmoths usually follow the master-igor path of most mad scientists, with one devout or very well payed servant that can run errands and procure things from townspeople while the magi back at home slowly inflates.

The other option, of course, is to ditch civilisation altogether. The graveyard stomach allows Belmoths a freedom to travel that necromancers usually lack, and keeping a variety of useful corpses close at hand means that Belmoths can quickly find a place in fight they weren't expecting.

Adventuring parties that include a Belmoth will have to be aware of the nature of their companion. There isn't really a way to constantly hide the fact that you're a seven foot tall sphere of dead person. Something of the nature of the party can be inferred by the willingness to travel with someone that is, if not evil, at least very suspicious.

IN YOUR GAME

This procedure is written more as a template to throw on top of a wizard/evil cleric than anything else. Make your player sacrifice all their feats, or eat up a few MP or whatever feels appropriate for balance purposes. If making an NPC you can do the same thing, obviously.

Ways to Get Bonus XP

• Eat a cool corpse. Eat the brains of a different wizard. Eat something that should probably be inedible but smells delicious and magical, just to see what happens.
• Write a thesis on the effects of substance X when you replace all your bodily fluids with it.
  Good science involves a double-blind trial on a decent sample size, so you're going to have to kidnap a few people and see how long they last when their blood is ants.
• Find another Belmoth and swallow their stomach lining whole, thus absorbing their consciousness.

Lammarsen/Numen

Lammarsen literally translates to 'children of the lammasu'. Individuals marked as as lammarsen have been marked by some beast, magical or simply very old, as being special in some way that is important to animals. Lammarsen do not generally manifest enough mystic powers to carry them through all their adventures, and will usually train as another sort of adventurer if that's the life they wish to lead.

(In GM terms this means that all the listed powers are taken as feats. The first feat gives you your spirit animal and sacred weapon, and then every time you think of a cool, relevant power you can take that 'manifestation of the beast' instead of a feat.)

When a venerable old animal finds a kindred spirit, they may chose to pass on something of their essence to that companion soul. There are many circumstances in which this may occur, but most commonly there will be some significant event in which the ancient beast gives up its life, and passes its geas on. You can't share your sweet powers while you're alive, obviously.

A lammarsen will adopt a number of traits from their numen. The first of these is always the body of their spirit animal, passed on very literally, in the form of body parts. A tortusen will inherit their numen's shield as a shell; an accipsen will take the wing feathers of their eagle for a cloak; a serpensen will take their numen's poisoned fangs as spears. This weapon is magical, in a way somehow reminiscent of the beast it belonged to. The second change of the lammarsen is their eyes, which will change to match the eyes of the animal that has chosen them. This is incredibly spooky, and may help them see in the dark/from great distances/underwater.

The last power, common to all lammarsen, is the bond they share with their dead animal. Or at least the bond they think they share. Once a day, a lammarsen may meditate upon a problem and come to a sudden epiphany (not necessarily about what they meditated on). They never actually hear the animal speak or anything, but, I mean, it's gotta be their spirit guide talking to them or whatever, right?


        Tortusen
A young fisherwoman will sit by a lake every day for 6 years, casting lines and smoking yuzlat gills. The ancient tortoise that lives in the lake sits with the woman sometimes, sunbathing in companionable silence. One day a dark temple bursts through the floor of the lake, spreading deadly serpents through all the delta. The fisherwoman takes up her dead friend's shell, her skin paling to green, and steps into the temple with pikespear in hand.

Scaleskin
+1 natural AC, +1 Con, -1 Dex
The tortusen's skin turns green and hardens to scale. This new flesh will naturally resist acid, and abrasions, which is nice, but it's now a lot harder to touch one's toes.

Iron Lungs
Take however long you can hold your breathe and triple it. Maybe quadruple it. Look just don't ever really think about it again. Also you can now breathe out of your arsehole, if you have one. Did you know turtles could do that? It's written on tampon wrappers here in Australia, and I don't really care if it's true or not.

Swampwend
With concentration the tortusen can control water, albeit very slowly. The more time spent concentrating the more powerful the tides produced. This power can be used to drain lakes, break dams, call or keep away rain, though it requires much patience.



        Leosen
An aging hunter prowls the savannah. She has hunted in this land for 30 years, and knows the oldest animals on the plain as though they were family. A dragon awakes in the hill to the west, and its fire burns the veldt and dries the waterholes. The great lion Mufaran, who once ruled these lands, breathes his last in the hunter's hands. She takes his pelt, and her bow, and sets out to tame the fire.

Pride
+1 Cha, -1 Wis
The mane of the lion makes its wearer charming, but proud. People will react favourably to a leosen, and will follow them into battle merrily, but leosen do not always choose their battles wisely.

Death Bellow
The leosen's jaws open wider than they should be able to, and a booming roar pours out. Anything that should be scared of lions (read: pretty much everything) is terrified by this, and must save vs fear. If you've ever stared down a wild animal bigger than you, you are immune to this effect.

Queen's/King's Mantle
The hair of the leosen twists and knots, sprouting thickly from their neck and shoulders. This great, shaggy mane provides protection from the elements, and prevents vorpal weapons from striking true. You'll take it because it looks awesome, though.

So I hear you like cat people.....

        Ariessen
The witch's fingers grip tight to the mountain she has always called home. She climbs to find the ancient, snowbacked ram that once lorded atop the pinnacles, but she knows in her heart that it is too late. Plucking goblin arrows from the shaggy hide she sets her resolve. With sacred knots the ram's skull is tied to a staff of ornwood, and the quiet mage wanders forth, to explain the consequences of hunting in these mountains.

Pan's Countenance
+1 Con, -1 Cha
Twisted and always grinning, the chosen of the goat are seedy, sleazy and very hard to kill. People that do make positive reaction rolls will always be more inclined to fuck an ariessen.

Appetite of Apathy
Ariessen can eat anything without harm, and will gain some nutritional benefit from things they consume. The downside is an inescapable desire to chew stuff, which will be very unpleasant if an ariessen is held immobile while their teeth can still work on their lips.

Surefoot
Ariessen gain a +8 bonus to jump and balance checks,while their feet twist and toughen, slowly growing to resemble hooves. Particularly old ariessen can use these hooves as a natural weapon, doing 1d4 damage with a kick.

The Batterwitch(es)

As with most schools of magic, the use of doughcraft is spread far and wide throughout the world. Indeed, spellcasting through bread is such a varied and popular thaumaturgic art that some scholars have suggested that the discovery of magical yeasts sparked the ascent of some of the greater wizarding empires - most notably, the Leavened Palatinate and the Dominion of the Endless Rise. Despite this supposedly grand history, doughcraft has now been relocated, for the most part, to the category of hedge magic. Very few surviving witches have the powers once fabled of them, though enemies of a Batterwitch should not be shocked to find themselves waking up to their limbs crumbling away. Slowly. And deliciously.

This is a real human being. Think about that.

Practised almost exclusively by a single coven of Batterwitches, spread from the northern tips of the continent to the far south-west, it is apparent that all modern doughcraft draws its essence from a single strain of empowered yeast. A strand of this bizarre eukaryote is grown and cared for by each Batterwitch that wields its power. Slightly variations in the make-up of this yeast may account for the differences in each witch's power; some reliant on cakes and sweetmeats, while others work best with hardtack and pies, and some few wield the wicked magics of the enchanted wheat noodle.

A witch's yeast is usually carried in a small pouch tied about their waist, tucked into their cloak, or secreted under their hat - wherever it may be readily accessed for spellcasting. The health of each witch's dough is maintained with regular top-ups of fresh water and flour, as supplied by the huge packs the more migratory witches are now famous for toting. In return for this care, the yeast symbiotically feeds the Batterwitch's powers, supplying the raw magic necessary for their control of all goods that are baked, raised or slow brewed.

Just as the old proverb states:
"google witch + sack and you will get accurate results"

Every witch learns at their first tutelage the secrets of maintaining a weevil-free larder, as well as the importance of a good hard kneading. While many Batterwitches choose the sedentary life it is hardly uncommon for a witch to take up their bindle and march off to find adventure. Such individuals will be hardened in the fires of the Great Oven, with a natural aptitude for fighting vermin and a resourcefulness that can only come from needing more wooden spoons than you have.

As playable characters, Batterwitches will have similar stats to Druids. Replace the trackless step and wildshape with bonus damage to vermin, resistance to fire and some kind of ridiculous combat bonus if they ever find themselves brawling in a kitchen. Arm your Batterwitches with items that at first seem innocuous: cookie-cutters; oddly sharp whisks; deadly yo-yos of elastic dough, and then get your witch to carve someone's eye out with their battlespoon. That'll teach you to laugh at old women. Some sample Batterwitch spells are included below:


Weeviloaf
Level 1 Batterwitch Spell.
The Batterwitch digs their fingertips into a loaf of bread, infesting the soft flesh within. When thrown, the loaf will burst open, spewing a thousand thousand weevils onto its target. The insects will swarm for up to three rounds, doing 1d3 per round, but can be killed with a round's effort and 1 damage worth of slapping yourself in the face/body. If the weevils land on anything similar to bread they can consume about a wheelbarrow's worth in the three rounds.


Leaven
Level 2 Batterwitch Spell
Soft dough is packed into and over a structure such as a wall or door, and this spell causes the dough to rapidly ferment, bursting through cracks with a surprising amount of force. The stickiness of the dough will hold most objects together for a few hours, if not well. Congratulations, you now have a bridge you can pull apart and eat.


Raisintide
Level 2 Batterwitch Spell
This spell can be cast two ways. As a curse, it causes a target to start puking huge quantities of raisins, along with the occasional chocolate chip. The target will continue throwing up until they pass a save, DC based on how much they like dried fruit. This spell may cause people to choke to death, though they should look kind of funny doing so.
Alternatively, opening wide their mouth, the Batterwitch vomits forth a never-ending stream of surprisingly dry sultanas, stopping only when they run out of breath. If, for whatever reason, the Batterwitch does not need to breathe they're probably still going to have to stop before their jaw falls off.


Doughboy
Level 1/2/3/etc Batterwitch Spell
Pouring a portion of their magic yeast into a cup/bowl/barrel/etc of fresh flour and water, the Batterwitch stirs up a 1/2/3HD familiar; stats as your favourite ooze. This doughy creation will obey the commands of the Batterwitch until it melts away in 1 hour/day/week/etc. Doughboys (and girls!) can be tempted with gifts of milled flour, but are not smart enough to actually help anyone but the Batterwitch enact schemes. Baking a doughboy will increase their AC and double their life span. Good luck finding an oven the size of a castle though.

Only you can decide.

But which picture is more gross?

DM's Notes:

• Male Batterwitches are also just called Batterwitches, because Batterwarlock sounds dumb and ruins the reference.
• If a Batterwitch, PC or otherwise, every gets thrown into an oven they will go absolutely batshit. It turns out that all Batterwitches develop an innate fear of being cooked alive that will manifest itself as them thrashing about screaming and turning everything into bread. Just because you're good at something doesn't mean you don't wake up screaming because you thought for a second that you WERE the baggel.

The Classic Classes: New People Edition

An Uncapitalised Intro into DnD 3.5 Classes

Barbarian - big fuck with axe. or hammer. or axe AND hammer. you will hit stuff, you will yell, I will probably give you bonuses if you yell irl. usually dirty and angry, but you could also be clean and angry if you really want.

Bard - skinny fuck with lute. or flute. probably not lute AND flute because you are a useless piece of shit. you literally just run around singing to inspire your comrades, and then write a poem about how you took Baron Dickcruncher III on all on your own. if you sing irl i will kill your character.

Cleric - you love god, and god loves you back. you will heal friends, you will turn the undead to ash, and you will probably do some specific weird shit based on the specific weird god you create. feel free to creep everyone else out by being a bit too intense about tentacles.

Druid - you love nature, and nature loves you back. you will heal, uh, plants I guess, but mostly you will use the forces of nature to crush, burn, freeze and otherwise maim your foes. you get a pet and at some point can turn into an animal. feel free to creep everyone else out by being a bit too into horses.

Fighter - this is the super boring class, but it can do some cool stuff if you really get into the mechanics of the game. Aragon was a fighter so you can be him if that gets you wet. you want any specific combination of weapons and leadership and this is pretty much your jive.

Monk - this is the super racist class. you are a mystic warrior from whatever qualifies as the Far East of the setting, even if the setting IS the Far East. you know kung fu and can do some really vague kung fu shit, but mostly you will punch limbs off people all day.

Paladin - you are the bestest ever person in the world and you are always right about everything, ever, because your god is always right about everything ever. if you want to not have a god and just worship your own reflection I will allow it because it's pretty appropriate. you will have plate mail, a big weapon, and the ability to fry evil things with white fire. also probably heal people, but you'll be a dick about it.

Ranger - the Legolas class, but also with a sweet pet. you are at one with the forest, but you can also hate specific kinds of creatures so much you are extra good at killing them. I only just realised how fucking weird that is. bow or double swords is the standard, and you get some cool combat tricks and, eventually, some nifty nature spells like a druid

Rogue - the sneaky lil shit class. you can make and break traps, pick locks, hide behind basically anything and if you stab someone while they aren't looking it does absolutely sweet damage. you are also probably way more concerned about your own safety, and your treasure hoard, than anything else.

Sorcerers - you are a font of magical energy the likes of which this world has never seen, or at least you like to think so. your powers come from somewhere spooky, you're not really sure where, but you shit fireballs sometimes and that's cool. you don't have many spells, but you can use any of them at any time (this is unique). think lightning, glowy runes, magical growth, exploding everythings, and running out of spells right when you really need them.

Wizards - you are a font of magical energy the likes of which this world has never seen, or at least you like to think so. you have practised for a long time to be able to use magic, and it kinda shows. your powers are a lot like a sorcerer's, but you have a few more at any one time. motivations are probably focused on taking over the world, but mages are kinda weird people and I don't wanna presume.


Lastly. Remember that DnD is about making shit up, so you can play these classes any way you want, or try to figure out something else cool that you wanna be. Let the DM sort it out, and if they can't, get a better DM.