China Miéville loves sexual dimorphism—the more extreme the
better, particularly with the females being much larger or more dangerous than
the males. Two such races, the anophelii
and khepri, even got statted up for D&D 3.5 in the pages of Dragon #352. So it’s no surprise we were introduced to ceratioidi in his
contribution to the Guide to the River
Kingdoms, the nation of Outsea.
(They would be properly written up a few months later in Pathfinder #32: River Run Red).
Enough history!
Let’s get to it. Ceratioidi
are angler fish-like humanoids that hail from the deepest parts of the ocean,
complete with their own glowing lures bobbing from the tops of their heads. Most ceratioidi that adventurers
encounter are also actually two creatures: a large female
and a tiny parasitic male bonded to the female and dwelling beneath her
flesh. The two retain their
individual minds but are telepathically linked.
This unique mental structure is the source of many of their
advantageous special abilities and heavily influences their class choices (Pathfinder #32 mentions wizard/witch
casters and rangers being especially popular.) It also raises some interesting role-playing questions. Is the ceratioidi’s dual nature a
secret or is it public knowledge? Do
they pass as purely female or use “we,” the collective “you,” “it,” and/or
“they” pronouns? And let’s also
not forget their similarly dualistic leaders, as described in the Guide to the River Kingdoms: great
bloated house-sized god/goddess entities that lure sacrifices willingly and
inexorably toward their gullets.
When your gods live among you, it is both a gift and a burden.
For no real reason—other than that’s where my head seems to
default to—I’ve used ceratioidi as organized crime figures in several
posts. Here are a few more ways to
tackle these undersea creatures:
The great ceratioidi
city of Thaumatin perches on a series of shelves leading down into the Ebon
Trench. Great diving bells on
miles-long chains serve as elevators between the levels, helping surface
dwellers and even shallow-water races like merfolk accustom themselves to the
gloom and pressure. These diving
bells often attract hungry sea monsters and other malefactors, so adventurers
are always needed for escort duty.
Depending on their level of experience and how far down they travel,
volunteers might face ceratioidi outcasts, devilfish, drowning devils, sea
serpents, or one of the great krakens itself.
The Proctor of
Enchantment at Griffonspur College is a regal ceratioidi. The fact that she is never without her
fascinating lure, yet is secretly impervious to mind-affecting effects herself,
has played no small part in her meteoric rise over her enchanter peers. (The fact that “she” is actually a “they”
is a secret the proctor guards closely as well.) A special bath in her private chambers supplies her with the
daily seawater she needs to survive.
Triggering a secret catch on one of the faucets also opens a portal to a
bioluminescent ceratioidi city beneath the waves.
Ceratioidi
fundamentalists rise up and conquer the aquatic elves of Limuleth. They put elven clerics to the spear and
force the worship of the Living Mother on the populace. Adventurers are needed to smuggle the
Limuleth princess to her half-elf kin in far-off Shoal. Alternately, they can help rebel druids
shatter the ceratioidi power base—literally, by awakening the temporal stasis-held Colossal horseshoe
crabs upon which Limuleth was built.
—Pathfinder #32 80–81
& Pathfinder Bestiary 3 50
Pathfinder and Merriam-Webster disagree on whether “angler
fish” has a space or not. I stuck
with the Paizo version, but it hurts like watching Mom and Dad fight.
A peek over at The
Daily Character Option reveals the ceratioidi Order of the Deep
Lantern. Check it out!
I’ve linked to this before, but…
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