Mytuos (5e Race)
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Walking through the market, doing her absolute best not to break into a sprint, our masked Oda Sorina makes her way through the crowd to the weaver's section. At each of the stalls, the face of each and every attendant and customer suddenly lights up as she passes. The stalls filled with fine velvets, silky clothing, and delicate cushions. Not that Sorina pays any mind to any of the stalls; her mind is set on one thing and one thing only. And as she turns the corner, she sees one of the larger stalls, run by Errich, and his fine, yet failing store. Our masked Oda's already wide smile brightens when she sees the halfling's store. When Errich returns from the world of dreams, he looks up and returns Oda's contagious smile. "'Ey, little Criella", exclaims Errich, "'cept, it don't look like you're so little no more." he adds with a slight laugh. Sorina looks down at herself. No, it would seem as though she is not as little as her last encounter with her favourite teeny halfling. Returning his laugh, Sorina says "No, I suppose not. But, that is unimportant!" As she continues, she clasps her hands together, making her excitement for what is to come obvious "Eight long, long years ago, you had a beautifully old loom. Do you still have it? I want it if you do. Please?" The utter entusiasm on display from the Mytuos takes Errich aback for a moment. After smiling dumbly in recovery, the halfling responds, "E-, y- yeah, I still have that ol' thing. If'n you want it, we could get the movin' crew on it. But I ain't so sure, Criella, that thing's mighty expensive-" Before he can finish that thought, Oda is immediately on his case; "Oh, why should we bother with gold and coin when I have a perfect stage anywhere I go. How big a performance'll that be worth? I'll give one that's so worth it, come on, just gimme it!" And with that, Errich crumbles to Sorina's wiles. He calls for a small crew to pack up the weathered fine oak loom.
While the crew packs the loom into a small carriage, and Sorina can hardly stop herself from dancing in excitement, a small group watches them all throughout. Oda overhears them smirking to each other "I bet she'll give him a real good show." Not having any of that, Oda turns and shouts over to them, loud for all to hear, "And I bet you'd love to voyeur that show, if all those salacious pictures you hide from your mother are anything to go by" Grinning happily at the stunned faces of the group, Sorina turns to see that the carriage has been loaded with the parts of the lovely loom. She turns around to flash one more grin and a small 'farewell' wave as she guides the mule to her abode, and as an outraged stomping charges towards the group. Oda giggled herself to sleep that night.
A Mytuos, plural Mytuoaey, is largely human. In fact, it is very easy to mistake them for a human at a vague glance. However, there is a very obvious factor that defines them from a human: where their faces would be instead lie a curious fusion between mask and flesh. This natural mask is immobile and static, and very reminisce of a traditional jester's mask, about where the nose and eyes would be, yet the jaw and mouth is fully animate, albeit discoloured as per the rest of their mask. There are some exceptions to this; certain Mytuoaey may be born with entirely flat areas in place of a nose, in calmly silent expression; or perhaps have wild frills protruding out the back of the mask, curling about in absolutely wild expression. However their mask is formed, it is soft at birth, not unlike a rather defiant putty, which hardens from just below the nose upwards, and perhaps maybe the ridges of the jaw, by the age of four. While most other races need to make an active attempt to break a smile, of any sort; Mytuoaey can crack a smile of any way for any expression, and only when well and truly depressed or enraged does a smile creep away from their features. Not that they are ever in such a state of mind.
Barring their rather defining mask, Mytuoaey are much leaner than an average human, and often can verge on making elves look just the slightest bit chubby.
While certainly not something defined at their birth, or even during growth, it is very common for a Mytuos to have very jester-esque bodysuits, often magically sown with their natural mask, making the whole thing look like everything was there since birth. Seeing a Mytuos with more normalised clothing is... odd; it is somewhat of a feature of the race to wear such bodysuits.
Really, who knows where these people came from? Or when? These harle-people seem to jest around literally, and figuratively, everything, including space and time. Their collective joking with everything they see seems to have wedged them into history. All the records involving them begin abruptly about the exact same point in the past, and everything acts as though they were well known, well befriended people to all civilisations, even though their lack of presence prior to that point undermines that glaringly.
Asking a Mytuos about this phenomenon is met only with giggling. It is genuinely unknown if the Mytuos themselves know or not, even after using magic to divine such information.
What is known is that they have not enacted any wars with other societies, nor have any wars been made with them, at any point in history. And their trade deals, while perhaps rather unorthodox payments, have been very bargainous for all involved, despite those they trade with and what they trade for.
Mytuoaey make up very joyous encampments, towns, and cities. They have exceptionally positive outlooks on life and all things, and the fact they see everything in life, and death, as a joke, it's hard not to be happy, no matter how down in the dumps you may be. In any settlement primarily populated by Mytuoaey, across the city streets there is at least one performance being made by a Mytuos. Whether this performance is to pay for a basket of groceries, or simply for the enjoyment of all around, which then leads to them being offered a handful of food. And in a settlement where they are few or far between, they are basically guaranteed to be well received; and to follow the word of one coming to town, and the tavern they visit gets a sudden uproar of business. Anyone who claims that a half-elf makes for a best friend clearly has never heard of the Mytuos.
Most Mytuos have very few possessions on their person, and can make do with little resources. Minor theft is seen as no issue to a Mytuos. If a little urchin steals an orange from the Mytuos' bag during their performance, they Mytuos will not pay any heed: they would have given the urchin the orange anyway, why make a fuss over it? However, in whatever abode the Mytuos may have, they will have a collection of things and wonders they have collected and been gifted over the years: fine silks, beautiful poems, wondrous furniture, and other unique things. These items they simply covet, and anything new of the they will want, because they just love something specific about them: they love the feel of the silk; they love the way the words smush together; they love how utterly fantastic it feels to recline on a velvet seat; love for words, love for song, each Mytuos loves at least a dozen of such niche things. But despite this hoarding nature, they know restraint. Whether they restrain themselves because of high standards or because they know the inevitability of having too much, is really up to whatever the Mytuos tells you.
Also as an instinctual aspect, Mytuoaey view performance as a currency. In their mind, an apple can be payed for by a silver piece or a few well-placed strums on a lute, or an ancient loom could be compensated for by a more personal, specialised mini-play instead of a pouch of gold pieces. This ties in somewhat with them not having too many possessions on-hand: they do not carry much coin on the grounds that it is worthless. They do still carry all their coins in a single pouch, just as a last resort, but only for exactly that.
Who's the Joke Now?
Mytuoaey may not take many things, or... anything, seriously, but they still have a very low tolerance for bullcrap. If a Mytuos notices a person being needlessly heckled and bullied, they will not sit idly by as it takes place. Instead, they will turn all the heckling, and all the bullying towards the now-former bullies; the jokers into jokes. Try as they might, not a single individual can possibly help to fend of this assault of words. But a bout between two Mytuoaey? That is a spectacle most magnificent. It becomes less a matter of making the other seem as a joke, and becomes more about out-performing the other. Eventually it may turn to literally out-performing as they sling insults at each other.
Mytuos will take names from literally any background, and from literally any place. They don't care the species it's meant for, or what it means; they just want the name that they like the most. Oftentimes, they have a name with questionable implications because of those questionable implications. The name of one Mytuos will likely A) have aspects from a wide range of species, and B) be totally different from another Mytuos', even in length
Masked humanoids practically born to be harlequins. It's actually in their blood, and out of it.
Ability Score Increase. Your intelligence increases by 1, your charisma increases by 2 , and one other attribute of your choice increases by 1
Age. A Mytuos' mask hardens and feels like an actual mask by the age of 4, they mature at around 16, and live until 150 years, although certain, very tricky, Mytuoaey manage to entertain the gods of death enough that they earn extra years for their performance
Alignment. A Mytuos can understand law, they can study law, and they can know law. But by nature, they are utterly chaotic, and nothing short. They also tend towards more neutral motions in life. They simply wish to spend their time enjoying what comes and goes without taking a particular side.
Size. Your build is highly comparable to humans, albeit a lot leaner. Your size is medium
Speed. Your base walking speed is 30 feet.
Payment through performance. You gain proficiency in performance if you ever attempt to haggle for anything and for any reason.
Inscrutable. Any insight check to figure out if you are lying has disadvantage against you.
Jokes on You. You know the Vicious Mockery cantrip, with the exception that it does not require nor exude magic. Your words are cutting enough by themselves. The damage die goes up to 1d6 and increases respectively. The save DC for this trait is 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Charisma bonus
Languages. Common, you may also choose one other common language (dwarvish, elvish, giant, gnomish, goblin, halfling, or orc) and one exotic language (abyssal, celestial, deep speech, draconic, infernal, primordial, sylvan, or undercommon).
Random Height and Weight
|Base Height||Height Modifier||Base Weight||Weight Modifier|
|5'0"||+2d8"||140 lb.||x 1d4 lb.|