Legendary Rushlight Chanter While a scion oversees the hierarchy of a waning cult it falls on a rushlight chanter to tend to the spiritual needs of its members. Often clad in revealing, flowing clothing the chanters always have a glow of health to them. Charismatic and energetic, most find a rushlight chanter hard to resist. Thus, they prime recruiters for cult and often cultivate contacts outside of it. Behind the mask, however, lurks a corrupted heart on which direfly larvae suckle. Foul Beacon. Unlike the rest of the waning cult the direflies infesting a rushlight chanter never mature. Instead, the larvae burrow into the bard's core. The fey insects reshape the sternum and ribs into a honeycombed network around the heart and enter into a state of permanent hibernation around the muscle. The slumbering larvae grow fat and infuse the singer's body with an otherworldly radiance; rushlight. Now offically a rushlight chanter the bard can channel the mad energies of the feyw...

Being bound by matrimony to a dark fey has done this cultist well. No matter their true age, they remain flush and lush at the peak of youth. That is of course, if one can get past their pure-black eyes and the small, curling horns peeking from their temples. Exposure to the waning court marks the waning spouse in other ways, their skin is too pale, their fingers too long. Many wear revealing clothing, showing the branding and scars given to them by their lovers as well as other trinkets fashioned from amber and gold. The spouse carries a special sickle, fashioned from their fey’s last lover. Not only does this couple with the cultist’s strange powers, but it reminds them of the consequences of being boring. Serial Monogomy. Say what you want about the waning court, but these dark fey are lawful creatures. When they find a mortal they wish to take as a lover, the autumn fey seals the deal and never strays. In turn, the waning spouse is saturated with fell energies by the marriag...

The cultist’s once-fine shirt and doublet are stained with many a smudge, but it hardly compares to the black pools which replaced their eyes or the oozing inky tears marring their cheeks. However, the waning scribe seems as happy as can be, muttering to themselves fragments of dark secrets so fast that sometimes they forget to breathe. The books they carry are always stuffed with mismatched papers, note scraps, and blood stains. Whenever one is full, they snatch whatever might be at hand to continue their writings. Their only constant is the direfly quill they carry with a fine deadwood shank, direfly stinger point, and direfly wings fused together instead of a feather. The Word. Knowledge is power. The waning scribe understands this better than most, even their masters among the dark fey. As such, the scribe listened to the mad ramblings spoken by direflies and adapted that into a corrosive magic school built around true names. By knowing anything’s true name, one can manipulat...

The brute in the cornstalks was difficult to see, until their ruddy-stained scythe sliced through the plants eager to spill fresh blood. Clad in a tattered coat with a burlap-sack hood, the waning gleaner’s eyes shone through ragged holes with fanatic intensity. A slasher should not move so quietly as it slices its way through the crowd. Reaper. Within the cult, the waning gleaner is not considered one of the initiated, but is respected all the same. While the scion and their devout take care of spiritual matters, the rushlight chanter political ones, it’s the gleaner’s job to put the hurt on when its time to make a bloody mess. Not that they are the sort to kick in doors and make a ruckus. They stalk and terrify their victims before hewing them apart with a impractically large scythe. Each waning gleaner trains to be quiet, quick, and deadly. Once the scythe starts swinging, a gleaner is a force of sinister nature that is hard to stop. Waning Gleaner Medium Humanoid (an...

Now a slime in the shape of a human an alluvium looks like it should fall apart at any moment. Beneath translucent skin a few connecting strands of grey muscle amid sea-glass colored bones flex and twitch whenever the thing moves. Bloodshot eyes are held in place by piercing bone spurs with a thin film of ooze over them to keep from drying out. Intestines writhe below the organs like an agitated jellyfish. The rest of the semi-solid gel where meat once was resembles murky water. Patches of cilia sprout from the surface on the creature’s shoulders and sides, drinking in strange sensory data. The gunk monks are aesthetic creatures and bask in the eldritch coagulant's malignant glow for hours on end. During these dark meditations, they have mastered their slimy bodies and can take on colors to augment their abilities as other martial artists might imitate various animals. Gunk Monk Medium humanoid (Alluvium), lawful evil Armor Class 17 ...

Now a slime in the shape of a human an alluvium looks like it should fall apart at any moment. Beneath translucent skin a few connecting strands of grey muscle amid sea-glass colored bones flex and twitch whenever the thing moves. Bloodshot eyes are held in place by piercing bone spurs with a thin film of ooze over them to keep from drying out. Intestines writhe below the organs like an agitated jellyfish. The rest of the semi-solid gel where meat once was resembles murky water. Patches of cilia sprout from the surface on the creature’s shoulders and sides, drinking in strange sensory data. The blue mud, perhaps unsurprisingly, carries a distinct bluish tent to its slime not unlike that of a drowned, bloated corpse. Unlike the rest of its kin, the blue mud is not dedicated to war but rather mastering a silver tongue. Though, it really has no tongue at all. Naturally able to regain its humanoid appearance, the blue mud roams social and noble circles to further the cult's agenda...

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. One always hears the Skipper coming, even if they don’t know where he is until it is too late. This particular lizardfolk displays intelligence above his common kind, more than mere cold-blooded viciousness, and a perchance for fashion. The last point finds the reptile glad in fine coats tailored for its frame, jabots, waistcoats, and even trousers. Given his frame and environs, however, the Skipper goes through clothes at a clipper’s pace, which may account for his appetite for treasure. He needs someone way to pay for it. What never changes is the arcane clock lodged in his ribcage with scar tissue around it, nor the hook for a hand lost to a lucky elven adventurer. Well, not so lucky. The Skipper eventually ate the little bastard and took the enchanted sword that took said extremity for his own. The Skipper is a pirate, first and foremost. He loves treasure and will go to great lengths and commit many bloody deeds to obtain it. However, he does put on the...

Wherever the acherontia’s wings flutter, doom shall follow. Everyone knows this adage and feels unrelenting dread whenever one of these moth-like humanoids appears in the vicinity. Standing just over 6 feet tall, not including antennae, the archeronita has a waspish figure - pun intended. Their spindly limbs are covered in a fine downy, their wings a colorful collection of skulls. Most find their faces vaguely human, if not for the massive, glowing red eyes. The humanoids wear free-flowing shrouds befitting their cosmic duties. The doomsayer never seeks conflict but is often set upon whenever they appear. Whenever the acherontia arrives at a location it is merely to watch the tragedy unfold. However, many falsely believe slaying them will avert disaster. Often, this leads to further heartache for while the doomsayers are a peaceful lot, they are not pacifists and will defend themselves. Acherontia Doomsayer Medium humanoid (Acherontia), lawful neutral ...

From the shoulders down there is nothing remarkable about the average occularia compared to other humanoids. Their bodies would be mistaken for that of an elf’s, lithe and angular. One might be suspicious as to the origins of bumpy, bruised patches on their elbows and knees, Or maybe the fact that their fingers and toes are uniform in length. It is the occularia’s head which casts it as a different evolutionary path than other humanoids. Some even believe that these strange kin are actually aberrations. Given the nest of eye-stalks the occularia have instead of hair, their sharp teeth, and only skin where eyes would normally be in the face, this is not a difficult conclusion to come to. However, it is an inaccurate one. Despite their dark origins, the occularia are a humanoid race, capable of reproduction through normal means, though a great deal are still dreamed into being. Their origin point is the tortured nightmares of a floating, one-eyed terror kept perpetually sleeping by a ni...

From the shoulders down there is nothing remarkable about the average occularia compared to other humanoids. Their bodies would be mistaken for that of an elf’s, lithe and angular. One might be suspicious as to the origins of bumpy, bruised patches on their elbows and knees, Or maybe the fact that their fingers and toes are uniform in length. It is the occularia’s head which casts it as a different evolutionary path than other humanoids. Some even believe that these strange kin are actually aberrations. Given the nest of eye-stalks the occularia have instead of hair, their sharp teeth, and only skin where eyes would normally be in the face, this is not a difficult conclusion to come to. However, it is an inaccurate one. Despite their dark origins, the occularia are a humanoid race, capable of reproduction through normal means, though a great deal are still dreamed into being. Their origin point is the tortured nightmares of a floating, one-eyed terror kept perpetually sleeping by a n...

From the shoulders down there is nothing remarkable about the average occularia compared to other humanoids. Their bodies would be mistaken for that of an elf’s, lithe and angular. One might be suspicious as to the origins of bumpy, bruised patches on their elbows and knees, Or maybe the fact that their fingers and toes are uniform in length. It is the occularia’s head which casts it as a different evolutionary path than other humanoids. Some even believe that these strange kin are actually aberrations. Given the nest of eye-stalks the occularia have instead of hair, their sharp teeth, and only skin where eyes would normally be in the face, this is not a difficult conclusion to come to. However, it is an inaccurate one. Despite their dark origins, the occularia are a humanoid race, capable of reproduction through normal means, though a great deal are still dreamed into being. Their origin point is the tortured nightmares of a floating, one-eyed terror kept perpetually sleeping by a n...

From the shoulders down there is nothing remarkable about the average occularia compared to other humanoids. Their bodies would be mistaken for that of an elf’s, lithe and angular. One might be suspicious as to the origins of bumpy, bruised patches on their elbows and knees, Or maybe the fact that their fingers and toes are uniform in length. It is the occularia’s head which casts it as a different evolutionary path than other humanoids. Some even believe that these strange kin are actually aberrations. Given the nest of eye-stalks the occularia have instead of hair, their sharp teeth, and only skin where eyes would normally be in the face, this is not a difficult conclusion to come to. However, it is an inaccurate one. Despite their dark origins, the occularia are a humanoid race, capable of reproduction through normal means, though a great deal are still dreamed into being. Their origin point is the tortured nightmares of a floating, one-eyed terror kept perpetually sleeping by a ni...

From the shoulders down there is nothing remarkable about the average occularia compared to other humanoids. Their bodies would be mistaken for that of an elf’s, lithe and angular. One might be suspicious as to the origins of bumpy, bruised patches on their elbows and knees, Or maybe the fact that their fingers and toes are uniform in length. It is the occularia’s head which casts it as a different evolutionary path than other humanoids. Some even believe that these strange kin are actually aberrations. Given the nest of eye-stalks the occularia have instead of hair, their sharp teeth, and only skin where eyes would normally be in the face, this is not a difficult conclusion to come to. However, it is an inaccurate one. Despite their dark origins, the occularia are a humanoid race, capable of reproduction through normal means, though a great deal are still dreamed into being. Their origin point is the tortured nightmares of a floating, one-eyed terror kept perpetually sleeping by a ni...

From the shoulders down there is nothing remarkable about the average occularia compared to other humanoids. Their bodies would be mistaken for that of an elf’s, lithe and angular. One might be suspicious as to the origins of bumpy, bruised patches on their elbows and knees, Or maybe the fact that their fingers and toes are uniform in length. It is the occularia’s head which casts it as a different evolutionary path than other humanoids. Some even believe that these strange kin are actually aberrations. Given the nest of eye-stalks the occularia have instead of hair, their sharp teeth, and only skin where eyes would normally be in the face, this is not a difficult conclusion to come to. However, it is an inaccurate one. Despite their dark origins, the occularia are a humanoid race, capable of reproduction through normal means, though a great deal are still dreamed into being. Their origin point is the tortured nightmares of a floating, one-eyed terror kept perpetually sleeping by a ni...

From the shoulders down there is nothing remarkable about the average occularia compared to other humanoids. Their bodies would be mistaken for that of an elf’s, lithe and angular. One might be suspicious as to the origins of bumpy, bruised patches on their elbows and knees, Or maybe the fact that their fingers and toes are uniform in length. It is the occularia’s head which casts it as a different evolutionary path than other humanoids. Some even believe that these strange kin are actually aberrations. Given the nest of eye-stalks the occularia have instead of hair, their sharp teeth, and only skin where eyes would normally be in the face, this is not a difficult conclusion to come to. However, it is an inaccurate one. Despite their dark origins, the occularia are a humanoid race, capable of reproduction through normal means, though a great deal are still dreamed into being. Their origin point is the tortured nightmares of a floating, one-eyed terror kept perpetually sleeping by a ni...

The moneylender loves the finer things in life almost as much as he adores showing them off. His coats are always lined with exotic furs and tailor-made to fit wide, orcish shoulders. He casually buys the latest male fashion, save for boots in which he looks for the most sturdy and best for kicking debtors when they are down. The greenskin is never without a studded cane of pale dragon bone, tapped with a polished catseye stone. He also has a pouch or three of coins squirreled away on his person. The moneylender’s coif is always perfect, but never absurd. He always has a monocle on hand when something needs a closer inspection. The moneylender was once an adventurer seeking his fortune. He found it in an evil dragon’s horde, though was utterly drenched in the wyrm’s blood when killing it. Then he covered himself in his comrade’s blood as he butchered them to claim the bounty for himself. Some manner of fell magic transferred from the dragon to the orc that day. His avarice and cru...

The lithe humanoid is without any distinct facial features other than the vague impression of a nose and indents where eyes should be; though there is a golden glow implies ocular organs of some sort under its epidermis. At first glance, one might think this is due to a pale cloth drawn tight over its visage, but whenever the creature moves its plain that is some sort of artificial skin. The rest of its body is a smooth crimson shell of molded musculature. Raised, thicker and darker patches of skin form intricate patterns across its shoulders, down its spine and each arm. The synth sanitizer wears simple clothing, a crossed halter with spaulders attached; bracers and boots of a barbaric design. However, these accessories are crafted from materials not of this sphere. It’s left forearm is dominated by a thick bracer made of a strange, yellow metal etched with alien symbols. With a thought, the bracer rapidly unfolds like flower petals to form a sturdy shield or return to its bas...