"Inevitably, some clueless berk starts lamenting the plight of the 'poor, fuzzy little woodland 'umanoids.' A week later, 'e's leading the torch-wielding mob, 'cause 'alf 'is village is dead from dysentery." — Ogden "The Glaive" Thursson
In this week's Wednesday Werk, we'll look at the Ractur.
The Ractur are every bit as nasty as their reputation suggests. Thieves and marauders in the vein of goblins and kobolds, the Ractur are outcasts and refugees, welcome nowhere. In the case of Ractur, this has less to do with any sort of vicious degeneracy and more to do with the fact that they are disease carriers. Bards indicate they were driven by their ancestral woodlands by fire — and that those fires were set to drive them away. Like the komodo dragon, the Ractur carry a loathsome disease in their bite, which has been known to kill afflicted victims in hours or days (very rarely, someone will die within minutes of infection).
Other than their notably virulent saliva, the Ractur are known for their love of shiny objects and their typical illiteracy. They do not recognize the written word as valuable, and so have been found with nests composed of rare books, ritual scrolls, treasure maps, and the like — some of them still readable, if only partially.
This Ractur Vagabond represents a standard, urban-dwelling specimen. The Ractur attempt to attack from surprise if possible; otherwise, they typically attempt to move into flanking positions to make the best usage of their Dagger attacks. They reorient with Beat Feet, and use their dreaded Bite to keep foes on the defensive.
Astute observers will note that they do not actually carry dire rat filth fever, but their disease could be considered similar enough to not warrant different rules.