1d20 Hordes of Monstrous Humanoids
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From Blood Bowl 2 |
- The
last homo diluvii striking out in desperate, futile raids
against the dominance of homo sapiens. They cannot fully
comprehend what is happening to them.
- Creatures
born of battlefield mud under a full moon, wearing tattered armor and
wielding rusted blades. Marching songs like dirges on the riverbanks.
- Wild
pigs that gained a taste for man’s flesh, and with it, a taste of
man’s power. They have learned cruelty for its own sake.
- Eugenic
eunuchs, educated by the finest imperial tutors and refined by years
of courtly training. Their legions keep impeccable records of the
dead and tallies of the maimed, to be discussed over immaculate tea
ceremonies.
- An
ancient army of men reduced to pallid corpse-eaters. They were cursed
to wage their war forever by the wizard they cast down from his keep.
- Fleshy-faced
hirsutes from the deep jungles. They do not wish to shed blood, but
they know they must; if they did not, their gods would lack the vital
essence required to fight off the serpents from beyond the stars that
seek to devour all the world.
- Television
heads, filled with static and shriveled and seizing black worms.
- Humans
with a variant strain of toxoplasmosis guiding their
sword-hands. They worship cats, and sacrifice their fellow man in
exchange for feline favor. The cats know this, and approve of it.
- Men
changed utterly under the open sky of the tundra. They have carved
out chunks of their own frontal lobes; Only by returning to apes,
they believe, may we save the world from the decadence of
civilization.
- Red
chitin armor, jaws that split into a dozen toothy fingers, black eyes
the size of fists, weapons that shoot streams of fire. Anachronistic
and illogical, the result of someone in the future changing the past.
- Skin
like a raw bruise, great vents spitting steam, misshapen limbs out of
alignment. Born psychically from anger and hate.
- Demons
like harlequins, or the other way around. Herds cavort across the
savanna alongside their elephantine brood-mothers.
- Obsidian
bodies, bladelike and ever-fracturing. Mute beyond a distant thrum.
They just want to give you a hug and tell you everything is going to
be okay. They will not be dissuaded.
- Disenfranchised
youth, radicalized salarymen, sportsball hooligans.
- Iron-masked
men descending from floating castles. Can only seem to communicate
through grunts and screams. Wear fine gold and blue silks and wield
silver swords.
- Wasteland
mutants, radioactive oozes leaking from deformed bodies. They are
willing to trade for resources, but they won’t take no to an
answer. Survival trumps diplomacy.
- Yellow-green
skin pulled too tight over their bones, moving in reverse time:
running backwards at you at full speed, coming from a destination
they must reach with all haste.
- Biological
war machine, the castaway of an interstellar war. Builders long
dead, keeps building soldiers, can’t turn itself off.
- Giant,
tusked hermaphrodites with pangolin shells. March under white flags.
Will not fight, will just stamp in and take what they want.
- Bull-footed,
eagle-winged, lion-maned, man-faced. Fire-wreathed soldiers sent to
cull the sinful. Gods are confused, no one asked for this.
Is there any filler greater than the random table? (No, there isn't.)
ReplyDeleteFill us up Dan.
DeleteThis looks like five different campaigns all smashed into each other, and reality imploded, before everything reset, leaving us with one meta-universe that contained all elements.
ReplyDeleteIt is magnificent.
You have accurately described my design philosophy.
DeleteI think these types of monsters are some of the best to find written up. Great post!
ReplyDelete