With their blood-red skin, bat-like features and crown-shaped cranial protrusions, hobgoblins paint an uncanny picture.
They are creations without a master, bred for war in an age long before the Fog. Ungendered and sterile, they are born in birthing pools, clutches at a time. They tend to be aggressive, decisive, and inquisitive. They live for action, change, novelty.
Their life is determined by a number of hierarchical loyalties and bonds. First, the absolute bond shared between clutchkin. Second, the lifelong nature of early friendship and grudges. Third and last, the flexible loyalties of employment.
Being born fully mature, ready to fight and immediately thrown into the world, most young hobgolins are very naive, a trait which should not be mistaken for lack of intellect. An old Hobgoblin is to be feared, most likely made ruthless by years of hard lessons.
◘ +1 Toughness
◘ Choose one gift from:
• Oil Sack:
Some clutches are birthed with an internal organ meant to preserve liquids. Most often used to keep warbands supplied with precious torch oil on their longer trips. Stores alcohol in a pinch. (tap??? Note: roughly how much liquid? )
• Deep Imprinting:
Choose a party role. When in that role, you can perform slow pace tasks at normal pace, and normal pace tasks at fast pace.