Fantasy AGE: Feyril, spawn of the goddess Matrigias

Continuing my adaptation of the monsters of Sarvaelen is the feyril, hideous redcap-like, squat men of the woods who are born out of the terror and madness of the Old One Matrigias:

Feyril (sons of Matrigias)

1 Accuracy

-2 Communication

4 Constitution (drinking)

1 Dexterity (stealth)

2 Fighting (axes, heavy blades)

1 Intelligence (shadow, fate)

0 Perception (hearing)

4 Strength (might)

3 Willpower

Speed   11   Health  38    Defense  11     AR 6 (natural; silver is piercing)

Weapon (attack/damage)

Cleaver +4 attack, 2D6+5 damage

Pick Axe +4 attack, 2D6+4 damage

Special Qualities: mighty blow (1 SP), lethal blow (4 SP)

Favored Stunts: mighty blow, lethal blow, pierce armor (1 SP if using the pick axe)

Slayer of Mirth: the feyril despise the happy, friendly or optimistic. A strike against an unsuspecting target that is in such a state deals +2D6 damage due to the sheer venom of the feyril attack.

Skin of the Goddess: The rugged skin of the feyril is exceptionally resilient (6 AR), but silvered weapons are piercing against their hide, bypassing armor.

Magic Skill: feyril are usually (60% chance) mages with the Shadow Arcana and Fate Arcana talents. They typically have shadow dagger, shadow’s embrace, Hands of Fate and Puppets of Fate. Some Feyril (20%) are more powerful with more spells.

Feyril are short, dwarf-like men who have developed a superstitious reputation thanks to the folklore which precedes them. The stories speak of how feyril are not really men at all, but a curious sort of creature born from the turbulent, bubbling dreams of the mad goddess Matrigias, said to have been the first of the Old Gods, and that she was accosted in terrible ways by the male gods who were unable to control themselves. From this horrific union she became pregnant, bloated from one horizon to the next with the spawn of the world, and when she at last broke water she was destined to give birth to all of the animals of the world. The stories say that Matrigias was driven mad by the endless spawn of animals which crawled from her womb to populate the world, and that she shed unbearable tears of blood and water at the endless pain. From these tears grew the feyril, squat and toad-like little men that were described by some as almost like infants in appearance, but horribly wise to the world due to the suffering of their mother. The feyril crawled forth, to extinguish any joy or revelry where they found it. Such was it that when mankind was at last born into the world he could know joy, for the feyril had stolen all of the pain and suffering of their mother by then. It was only later that humanity came to fear the feyril, for they found the joy and merriment of men to be offensive, and sought to extinguish it by means of murder and fright.

There are stories of a feyril who has cast off the ways of his kind and dwells in relative peace in the town of Aelghast.....most accept this is true, as Aelghast is the town of refugees and outcasts of all sorts, and a tame feyril seems almost modest compared to the other denizens of that accursed town.