Hey guys, post your organization here. They could be a guild, a cult, or whatever. Let's see 'em!
I just have fluff right now, haven't developed either, but here goes from my current homebrew:
The Moonglint Guild - a group of ratmen, giant (awakened) rats and infected wererats led by a natural wererat and looking to terrorize the countryside. The leader is a bandit type and just wants wealth but he's been hardened by his recent life and a certain darkness is creeping into his heart. He's keenly aware that his minions spread a host of diseases and some of them can hide among the more mundane of their kind, so he is tempted to unleash a plague of truly epic proportions. He just needs one more little "push" from the right BBEG...
The Thornwalkers - elite ranger-types who lead small bands of militia on frequent patrols through the hinterlands around the town of Staghorn Reach. Since the town has only a few scattered towers and no formal wall (it's basically a big village) the patrols act like a living outer defense. They have an innate Clarion Call ability to signal one another and such and can move unfettered through rough terrain. They are a secretive bunch of sheriffs and hunters but are lawful and pay at least passing homage or outright worship to Erastil.
The Black Dragon Syndicate
It's a guild on my world that is into slavery, drug trade, thievery, and manipulates politics, but mostly care about information trade. It's a major power in the world, they though have no obvious assets to take away or attack. The guild is secretly run by first generation black dragon. (which on my world dragons are good by nature, and defenders of life, where demons are thier counterparts both crafted by the first god.) The dragon created the guild to pay for the spy network so that he could counter the secret war being waged by demons with infiltration, and to track evil in general. Sure they use evil methods to make money, and keep themselves afloat but it is for a greater good. Each major city or region has it's own guild lead by a chapter master, and they are pretty well feared. They are generally seen as evil or dark, but thier ultimate goals are good, or protective.
The White Wave: A secret society of people from various backgrounds all centered around experience with the Inner and Outer planes (summoners, paladins, members of the offshoot races). They are devoted to researching and fighting the Denizens of Leng, who have for centuries been travelling to and from the material plane in black ships (hence the name) with the intent of collapsing the multiverse.
The Umbra Consortium: An interplanar oganization of Fetchlings based on the Plane of Shadows. Their primary goal is to establish dominion over the Plane of Shadows for Fetchlings and to further the Fetchling race in all ways, which includes establishing diplomatic relations with groups of the various inner planes as well ass assassinating individuals who oppose them.
I do a lot of stuff involving planes :B
My whole campaign (and setting to some degree)deals with an organization called the Delvers. Think Pathfinders with a focus less on learning and more on teaching. The way they do this is they find artifacts, understand them, and teach about them. Most schools in my setting are Delver sponsored (or are churches of the Goddess of the Cosmos).
Along the lines of Cobalt
The Archivist's Guild of Izmok: the universities of the city of Izmok all contribute resources, time and manpower to maintain the Archivist's Guild. The guild in turn is tasked with ranging over land and sea throughout Karnoss, re-learning the history of these realms and carrying this information back to the Archives for preservation and study.
In my homebrew world Aeth one of the organizations is the Hero's Guild, a world wide group sent to not just discover the history of times gone by, but also to guard and shield towns and cities of their assigned areas.
The High Guild is the cross nation over group, over seeing the...
Chapters ("The Chapter of Zhen", "Shima Chapter", etc.) over sees a single Nation and is made of...
Houses ("the House of Shadows", "Hope House", "House of Dragons", etc.) who protect specific regions of a Nation and is made up by the...
Bands ("Band of Friends", "the Yellow Band", "Wyld Band", etc) which are local groups (Adventuring Parties) assigned specific locations to protect or specific tasks too accomplish.
The Whispering Wardens of Dunspar: most don't want to be out after dark on the streets of Dunspar, for fear of meeting one of the Whispering Wardens. The order of the Ward produces all manner of zealot serving the law and doctrine of Abadar in the city and the hinterlands beyond. However the most zealous or those of a certain disposition study both the cannon and philosophy in monastic silence for years. They emerge as inquisitor monks who take a vow of silence as a display of their devotion to both the laws of their city and their god.
They wear great black cloaks over similar robes and heavy hoods besides; all are trimmed in muted gold. They favor heavy twin-headed hammers in the style of a judges gavel and masterwork crossbows which they wield with deadly accuracy when needed. But as their main function is the apprehension of criminals to both the faith and Dunspar they often employ their hand-to-hand combat and many advanced forms of ammunition to meet their needs.
Above all else however these figures are known for thier silence. While many inquisitions and their agents chastise and bluster against thier quarry the Whispering Wardens never utter a word and make little sound at all when in battle. Even their crossbows are designed to fire without their string's twang.
When an initiate graduates to the ward they transferred to the Stonegate Prison, also known as the Soundless Vault. Criminals remanded here repent more often then from any other; madness is seemingly their only other option as this occurs with equal frequency. The Order utilizes divine energies to maintain absolute silence through the entire prison, save the outer court and administrative building there. These energies are replenished four times a year at appointed hours when the penitent are permitted to utter their sins and be forgiven. The cacophony on these days is so terrible the Pharasmin of Tearsfall band together to raise the surf in the Bay of Erdveir so as to drown out the screaming.
In my homebrew this functions as the fluff to an NPC PrC that combines the skills and extra attacks of a monk with the powers and spells of an inquisitor. It takes worship of abadar, vow of silence, flurry of blows and both the bane and discern lies abilities. It follows the inquisitor's BAB, sacrifices spells for a couple levels but then enhances their intimidation and they get a Ki pool where their Whispering levels count as monk levels for # of points, plus those gained from their vow (1/6 levels, minimum 1).
Psionic powers and the practitioners who use them are not unknown in the World of Greyhawk. Often referred to as mind-mages by the common people, there are many who view the wielders of these mental arts as heretics and witches. Organized religions especially have rather harsh strictures regarding those who exhibit powers owing nothing to the Gods and requiring little—if any—formal training. Founded to protect young psions and psychic warriors from the Inquisitors, the Order of the Illumination of the Soul seeks to shelter, nurture, and encourage men and women who discover the Gift of psionics. From their base at the mighty Crystal Keep in the Griff Mountains, the adepts of the Illuminati seek out psionic characters and offer them the opportunity to master their Gift in peace and safety.
Amelia struggled against the rough grip of the two burly Hextorian guards as they dragged her through the cobbled streets of Greenswath. She was pelted by clumps of mud, rotten fruits and vegetables, and stones as she went; all of these items flung by her fellow villagers. Gagged, and her head covered, she couldn’t cry out, but she could hear those who had once been among her friends.
“Witch,” sneered one.
“Cursed heretic,” said another.
She shivered and she shook; this couldn’t be happening! Not to her! She hadn’t meant to harm the smith—but he had tried to force her, and she had just lashed out in pain and fear. But the village elders had not believed her story, and the smith denied lusting after her. And then the Inquisitor had arrived, and it all turned ugly. Her trial has lasted just two hours, with the smith and his son and many of those Amelia had called friend testifying against her; and her protests of innocence rang false among those who saw the raw burns covering the face of her victim.
Finally, the two soldiers came to a stop and forced Amelia to her knees. The tore off her hood, and she saw the Inquisitor standing before her—and behind him the pile of kindling that surrounded the tall wooden stake; the dry kindling upon which barrel after barrel of oil was being poured. She cringed in fear and she struggled, but the guards held her fast.
“Amelia of Greenswath,” the Inquisitor intoned in a stern voice. “You have been charged with foul witchery; your assault upon Jon the blacksmith having resulted in serious injury. Renounce your allegiance with the powers of the Abyss, child, and beg The Tyrant for his mercy and succor—for your soul lies in the balance here today. Renounce your evil powers and recant your heresy, or you shall burn on Oerth before you burn in Hell.”
Tears streamed down her face as she struggled in vain, but the gag kept her from speaking—from answering. And the Inquisitor smiled.
“She refuses to recant her heresies! Her perversions to the will of Hextor continue despite the evidence of her crimes! So be it, witch,” he finished as he nodded to the guards. “Place her upon the pyre.”
Desperate, Amelia reached deep within herself, and concentrated on the Inquisitor—but one of the guards slammed a mail-clad fist into her belly and she doubled over in tremendous pain. And then the Inquisitor stepped forward and back-handed her.
“Your petty tricks will not work on me, whore. We know well how to deal with your kind.”
He nodded, and the guards hauled her to the stake, and hung her on an iron spike by the chain that dangled between her manacled hands. The guards quickly moved away and the Inquisitor took a burning brand and lifted it high. “In the name of Hextor, and the Overking of Aerdy, I find you guilty of these crimes, witch, and condemn you to a fiery end. Suffer, as you have made the people of this village suffer!”
Amelia tried to scream as he dropped the brand, and the oil caught, igniting the kindling. But even as the flames erupted the flickering tongues altered color to a bright blue and then suddenly died—snuffed out.
“I think not,” spoke a voice from the crowd.
The townspeople stumbled away from three men wearing robes who had just appeared in their midst. Two of the men bore slender swords in the hands, but the speaker was unarmed.
“What is this?” snarled the Inquisitor. He gestured towards the strangers. “Take them!”
The guards began to move forward—and the first managed to take three steps before he screamed in pain, dropping his mace and sinking to his knees. The mournful scream caused the townsfolk to panic and run, and then blood began to stream from the guard’s nose, ears, and eyes—and he collapsed lifeless to the ground.
The second guard rushed forward in a charge, but the speaker made a gesture with his hand, and the guard emitted a squeal of surprise as unseen forces grabbed him and flung him high into the air. The squeal became a panicked cry as he reached the apex of his arc and plunged into sheer face of the local quarry with a dull thud, his broken body then falling with a splash into the pond at its base.
The Inquisitor raised his holy symbol and began to chant the words of a prayer to his god, but the speaker shook his head. “Burn an innocent child, shall you? A girl who has seen only fourteen winters? Not while I have breath remaining in my body; you will suffer in her stead, priest.”
The Inquisitor’s eyes went wide, and then he grimaced as his armor and vestments began to smolder and smoke and his flesh ignited in a sudden flare of flame. He screamed as the eerie black tongues of fire consumed him, quickly reducing his body to a pile of metal and ash.
The speaker lifted his gaze and looked upon Amelia as she shook and shivered on the stake, and he then he gently lifted his hand again and she floated over the stack of wood to land on the ground—her manacles popping open and the gag fell free.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
The stranger smiled. “A witch, my dear. Just like you.”
“You are a mind-mage?” she cried.
“Aye, as are Pieter and Ian. I am Master Kelson Dyss, child, and I have come to make you an offer.”
“An offer? What could you want with me?” she squealed.
“Oh, child, your mind burns bright and clear—but it lacks of discipline. The Order to which I belong seeks to find youngsters such as yourself and give them an opportunity to learn to how to channel and control their Gift, rather than the Gift controlling you. I can offer you safety and security, far away from the close minded bigots who seek to destroy that which they cannot understand—and I can teach you to use your Gift so you never again need fear men such as that foul priest. Or the smith.”
“They are coming,” interrupted Ian.
“Yes. But you must make your choice, child. Come with me, now, and become a mind-mage in truth. Or stay here and make your own way in this world. I do not desire to force you into a decision, but the people of your village have run to the garrison, child, and an Animus leads them here. We must not tarry.”
Amelia rubbed the red welts from where the too-tight manacles had held her, and she shivered again as she looked back at the pyre which had nearly consumed her.
“There is nothing for me here,” she whispered. “And if I stay . . .”
“The villagers will finish what they began,” Master Dyss finished for her.
She looked back up at the stranger, her eyes growing wide. “You will teach me?”
“Child, I will show you the reality of wonders you have only dreamed of until now.”
Finally, she nodded. And Master Dyss extended his hand to her. She took it, and the four of them vanished, leaving the village empty in their wake.
Founded by Kelson Dyss in 544 C.Y., the Order (also known as the Illuminati) is an organization of psionic-using creatures dedicated to protecting young psions, psychic warriors, and wilders from commoners and religions that would do them harm. Born in Medegia in the autumn of 512 C.Y., Kelson Dyss found that his Gift was regarded as such by the devout followers of Hextor. In his sixteenth year, he was forced to flee for his life and made his way to Nyrond. Even here, he discovered that his use of psionics alienated him from the general population. As Dyss grew in power and ability, he became increasingly concerned over the treatment of young men and women bearing the Gift.
In 541 C.Y., while on an adventure in the Griffin Mountains surrounding Lake Abanfyl, Dyss and his companions discovered an abandoned Dwarven fortress on the shores of the Lake. Thirty-seven miles to the east of the City of Pendleton, the ruin was isolated and in horrendous condition, but it’s basic structure was sound. Once the beasts that had made the ruins their home had been defeated, Dyss parted paths with his companion and set about restoring the ancient fortress.
After two years of hard work, the renovations of newly christened Crystal Keep of the Illuminati were complete. Dyss next spent several months empowering a series of permanent teleportation circles in a chamber deep within the Keep. The Chamber of Portals links the Keep with the cities of Pendleton, Nevond Nevnend, Rel Astra, Radigast City, Rel Mord, Greyhawk, Marner, Niole Dra, Chendyl, and Irongate. A matching teleportation circle in those locations leads back to the Chamber of Portals itself.
The Crystal Keep is built into a spur of the Griffin Mountains that is thrust out towards Lake Abanfyl. Carved from the living rock two hundred feet above the Lake’s waters, the Keep is accessible only through the Chamber of Portals and a long winding road that rises over several switchbacks carved into the granite face of the cliff. This road circles the Cold Marshes along the south-eastern shore of the Lake and eventually connects with the City of Pendleton and the Duchy of Tenh. A long tunnel bored through the base of the promontory lets the road continue to villages and towns farther to the east in the Abanfyl Valley.
At the summit of the switchback access road, is the Keep proper. Twenty-foot high walls (fifteen feet thick) surround the grounds, while the interior rooms and chambers have been carved into the cliff. A sixty-foot tall tower looms over the Keep, with the topmost level being capped by a hemisphere of quartz crystals, lit from within. The light provided by the tower softly illuminates the Keep grounds and is visible for miles around.
Dyss then set about recruiting psionic-using creatures; with the stated goal of transforming the Keep into a true Academy and safe-haven. Over the next decade, the managed to assemble several dozen fellow psionics and prepared the Order of Illumination for the next step.
One of the items acquired by Dyss during his adventuring days was a minor artifact known as the Crystal Ball of Shai’kar. Intelligent and psionic, the Crystal Ball of Shai’kar allows Dyss to scry across the Flaness, seeking out those who are new to the Gift. Through the use of this device, he gains insight into the future which might be as well as the present that is and the past that was. He searches for untrained psions and (with the aid of the power of the Crystal) homes in on their unique mental impressions. Once these children are found, Dyss will travel to them and offer them a place within the Order.
Vast libraries and amply stocked class-rooms fill the interior of the Keep. Here, the cadets are trained in all areas of scholarship, their psionic abilities, and with arms. Gardens and arboretums fill many interior spaces, along with flowing fountains and tasteful murals. The overall atmosphere is one of quick contemplation and peace. This removes the distractions from the minds of the cadets and allows them to focus on acquiring knowledge and learning their own limitations.
At present, there are three hundred and twenty-two permanent residents of the Keep. This number includes Master Dyss, eleven mid-to-high level psions, fourteen soul-knives, six psychic warriors, and three wilders—all of whom assist in training and instructing the cadets. Many of these faculty members also have families at the keep. There are forty warriors and fighters who comprise the Keep’s guard force with the remainder of the staff consisting of experts and commoners hired by Dyss under long-term contracts. At any given time, there are forty-to-sixty cadets in various stages of their instruction. Most of the cadets are pre-teens or teenagers when brought to the Keep. In addition, many alumni of the Keep return for short or long term visits.
In the wake of the Greyhawk Wars, Master Dyss has taken more of an interest in the realms of the Flaness. Disturbed by the uptick in assaults upon psionic-using individuals, in 572 C.Y. he harnessed the power of the Crystal Ball of Shai’kar, his own internal reserves, and those of every member of his faculty to send a message simultaneously to every rule throughout the Flaness. The message was simple, short, and extremely direct: persecute my people at your own peril. Curtail your inquisitions or pay the penalty with your own blood.
Although alarmed at how the message penetrated their own defenses, many Kings, Dukes, Baron, and Counts discounted the warning: until the Tyrant of Monmurg was the recipient of a personal visit by Master Dyss. For a long time, the Tyrant was one of the harshest persecutors of psions in the Flaness, and he ignored the warnings. His guards told the tale of how a dozen men suddenly appeared in the throne room and paralyzed the guards and guests. Once several psionicists in the dungeons had been freed, the leader of these strangers, a man who called himself Master Dyss then sentenced to the Tyrant to suffer what he had intended for the prisioners. Unseen forces pulled against the limbs of the Tyrant, as if he was being drawn and quartered, while hot brands appeared covered his body from head to toe. Upon the Tyrant’s Death, Master Dyss and the others simply vanished, releasing the guards from their paralysis.
Since then, the nobles of the Flaness have taken the warnings of the Illuminati rather more seriously. Unfortunately, it has also brought the Order of the Illumination of the Soul to the attention of several powerful individuals who are even now searching for the Order’s base of operations. Recently, the Lord Mayor of Greyhawk City asked the Archmage Mordenkainen to provide magical protection against the Order, but the Archmage only laughed. He then told the Lord Mayor if you don’t bother the mind-mages, then the Illuminati won’t bother you. It appears to be simple enough to me. Still, rumor has that the Lord Mayor is seeking a magical means of protecting his secrets from the Illuminati.
In my world the fey are hated and feared, so gonmes get almost as bad a rap as goblins. But I was just sitting here, thinking on this thread and I asked myself: what does a city as large as Dunspar (Large City) do with all its trash?
Enter Tinker's and Gnaws Traveling Wares:
Tinker's and Gnaws is one of many gypsy caravans criscrossing Karnoss, moving from cities and towns throughout the provincial lands and among the high kingdom of the Dunevain. But unlike many who deal in occult trinkets and fairy-tale fobs these wee folk make their living the old fashioned way; through trash.
Upon entering the settlement the caravan seeks out and parks itself near the local heap or repository. Here they scavenge anything they can, making use of many spells such as make whole and mending, create water and prestidigitation, and purify food and drink. They literally live on garbage, scrounging some of their meals from these pits as well.
Tinker's and Gnaws was originally just known as Tinkner's and featured several gnomes who would sneak about settlements, stealing broken items and mending them for beleagured craftsmen. But the fey soon tired of living in the shadows in squalor so they found the discarded itmes and mended those for their own use as well as to sell. Among the larger cities they made the acquaintence of outcast goblins no longer welcome in either their own culture or in Karnoss, so they banded together. On the roads opportunistic halflings already did similar business so it was easy enough to merge many smaller operations into one and Tinker's and Gnaws was born.
They keep to themselves, keep the goblins and gnomes in line (for the most part) and are grudgingly accepted as part of the society at large. Beside their spells to salvage what they find a fair amount of craftsmanship also goes into their work. As a result they are able to supplement their trash-meals with some of the finest food and drink that can be had out the back of a tavern (the prejudices against their races and the stench keep most Tinker's and Gnaws folk out of such establishments).
Of course this line of work is not without its dangers and hardhips. Some settlements simply can't look past their stature or appearance and so the peddlers must employ disguises, spells or merely flee lest they suffer the consequence of the local law. As well their chosen bounty is often the lair of giant vermin, infested with disease or might conceal some greater threat all-together. As such Tinker's and Gnaws employs several guards, recovery experts and of course spellcasters in their daily affairs.
This fosters a certain skillset among these field agents; one that adventurers and their patrons often find as desireable as their wares. Never wanting to miss an opportunity Tinker's and Gnaws management may negotiate terms for such work, typically with terms heavily favoring them and their employees.
If you've a pile that needs sifting, odds and ends that need a good once over or just plain need something back from where it got lost, Tinker's and Gnaws can probably do the job...for the right price!
Haven't gotten to use it in a game, but I had it planned out. (Admittedly for 3.5)
Tormentors - There is a rumor, a legend, that the tyrant king has formed a secret organization consisting only the most brutal, the most heartless magic wielders for the sole purpose of breaking the enemies will, learning their secrets and if possible, turning them to the cause of the kingdom. These dark mages have undergone training that most would view as excessive. Enduring years of physical and mental torture, leaving only the strongest to serve what the townspeople have aptly dubbed, the tormentors.
The tormentors aren't the type to stay in the depths of a dungeon waiting for someone to be brought to their lack of mercies. They deploy themselves and other more martially capable rogues and fighters under their lead to gather their targets quickly.
It is also rumored that to replenish their ranks, the tormentors take any children under the jurisdiction of the tyrant king's rule that has magical capabilities and then trains them from early ages to become one of them. They do not tend to undergo the torturing process until they are older, as they found they went through too many children when trying the process sooner.
The tormentors are feared enough that most town and city folk would eagerly give you up if they felt that they'd be free from the tormentor's methods. If they find you resistant to physical torture they will delve into your mind. They will continue trying until they have gotten what they wanted. After all, they have all the time in the worlds.
Not mine, but a friend used these guys and they are pretty awesome if you include stuff from Xian Xia, I've put them on my list of interesting badasses:
"Grass Clan" Ninjas: These guys play the "Long Game" of infiltration and espionage -- The grass clan has clandestine operatives far and wide, many buried undercover for GENERATIONS. They generally insinuate themselves into organizations and rise to the highest positions of power, influence and proximity to key figures through loyal and devoted service. If not called upon to act within their lifetime, a grass clan operative will train his/her children to take over their vigil after their demise/retirement, doing all they can to use the former's reputation and station to maintain or elevate their authority and ability to move and operate above suspicion in whatever government or entity to which they are assigned. When wars or other grand-scale conflicts break out, or the removal of key personages from a city (or government or even greater scope) becomes diplomatically or militarily expedient, and the Grass Clan can be paid their monumental fees, the masters of the Clan will send communication to whatever operatives are best and most deeply insinuated into the organizations of their victim... sometimes it's a butler, sometimes it's a four star general, but they are always completely trusted, and generally above all reproach, sometimes from generations of devoted service. The executions are carried out quickly and ruthlessly, with the operative then being relocated far away to begin infiltration anew, even if that is merely to retire, bear children, and raise them as new operatives. Grass Clan Ninjas that execute assassinations of persons far too high profile*, or far too visibly instead rejoin the shadowy central organization through which the clan is hired, sequestered and venerable assassins who are the only souls to know the identities of any other operatives, and how to contact them.
*If you slay an emperor you may have to vanish forever, it's not likely your face will be forgotten, and in a world with magical scrying, chances are you're dead outside of something akin to the kind of secretive holdfasts which run the affairs of the grass clan.
Ex Libris the librarians. They horde information of all kinds, even things that other groups want to destroy. They have undead and other immortals in their collections who have witnessed history. Membership gives you access to secret information. They are also good customers for books of little use to most adventurers. They often make money on the side scribing scrolls from the rare spell books they collect.
Crimson Hourglass A phase spider cult that attracts more than just Drow. In the 5th dimension Phase spiders spin webs between timelines to catch the temporal scavengers. Members of the Crimson Hourglass know how to summon phase spiders who if fed live prey will transport characters between parallel timelines.
Not mine, but a friend used these guys and they are pretty awesome if you include stuff from Xian Xia, I've put them on my list of interesting badasses:
"Grass Clan" Ninjas: These guys play the "Long Game" of infiltration and espionage --
Snip
a butler, sometimes it's a four star general, but they are always completely trusted, and generally above all reproach, sometimes from generations of devoted service. The executions are carried out quickly and ruthlessly, with the operative then being relocated far away to begin infiltration anew, even if that is merely to retire, bear children, and raise them as new operatives. Grass Clan Ninjas that execute assassinations of persons far too high profile*, or far too visibly instead rejoin the shadowy central organization through which the clan is hired, sequestered and venerable assassins who are the only souls to know the identities of any other operatives, and how to contact them.*If you slay an emperor you may have to vanish forever, it's not...
You cannot scry someone in a dead magic zone.
Just saying.
The Vampiric Council
These generally lawful vampires meet to decide how to best guide civilization to their own benefit. Mostly nobile vampires with a blood point pool and a spell casting class that uses blood points to cast their spells. They usually meet in a city, in a building with windowless meeting rooms. Due to vampire hunters, there are less than the desired 13 members, so they are looking to add the infamous Count Dracula to their ranks. Dracula is a high level mesmerist and supposedly unkillable. They have a network of offspring and minions all over the world, so it is frightening to think what would happen if someone or thing got them truly organized.