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The rules of this "game" are simple: I like hearing how people reflavor their fantasy species, so share what you've done with the previously prompted race in one of your games, then prompt the next one!
For example, let's say the previous poster prompted with, "Next Prompt: Kobolds". I would then provide the way I like to run kobolds in one of my games:
Kobolds
In one setting I was working on with my sister, kobolds are basically dragon fairy tales. This is to say, most dragons do not believe they exist. Kobolds are generally unaware of this small wrinkle in their efforts to earn the dragon's favor.
A kobold tribe will attach itself to a dragon—basically any dragon, even a wyvern, metallic dragon, dragon turtle or pseudodragon if need be—and become its most faithful guardian the dragon never sees. They will clean up after the dragon, keep its lair tidy, construct endless defenses and mining operations to protect the dragon and bring it treasures. They take immense pride in their services, seeing this as their way of being a part of the glorious destiny of dragonkind. Many would-be dragonslayers never see the dragon itself, instead dying on the cheap spears and endless cheaper traps of the dragon's vigilant protectors. And the dragon, in turn, almost never sees the kobolds—if ever.
Dragons, for their part, explain the offerings and cleaning with a mix of lazy superstition and general laziness. "Oh, the mess just kind of gets cleaned up on its own," a wyrm will rumble, leaving the carcasses on the floor when it's done eating. "Maybe it's the kobolds!" it adds, chuckling.
Kobolds will do anything for the dragon they serve—even things their sometimes good-aligned dragon "masters" would probably cringe at. Kobold society bends towards authoritarianism, groupthink and exploitation, the workers constantly ripping apart the land around them to harvest more metals and coal for refining—and furnishing—the dragon's lair and hoard, and the traps that surround it. That said, they are not mindlessly destructive or cruel. Some kobold tribes, particularly those in the service of good-aligned dragons, do make some general efforts to practice what their dragon preaches. A kobold tribe in service of a gold dragon will not make use of slave labor and might even help out local non-kobold communities, begrudgingly. A kobold in service of a bronze or green dragon will generally avoid causing ecological devastation.
Kobold society tends to be complicated and messy, with the miners, warriors, trappers and cleaners forming a broad faction of workers. The priests and inevitable draconic bloodlines form two competing ruling classes, while the nursery workers who tend to the eggs occupy a role of unique respect that can never be intruded upon. When the priests gain the edge, the society starts to become more cult-like, and often more active in the local community—for good or ill. When the royals gain power, the society tends to become more exploitative and destructive, harvesting as much wealth as possible for the glory of the draconic bloodlines the society is ruled by. When the workers gain power, the respected trapbuilders tend to assemble councils that govern most affairs for everyone. The only constant for any kobold society is that all of this feuding is almost always entirely internal. Unlike drow or hobgoblins, even rival factions of kobolds almost invariably put aside their differences when it's time to get to work to defend the lair. True civil wars or absolute schisms are almost unheard of.
But it tends to get very, very confusing for the host dragon when they do take place.
Next Prompt: Orcs!
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Mites' bright blue colouration makes little sense as forest or cave-dwellers. As seagoing, giant urchin and crab-taming island-dwellers in warm seas they're in their element though. They will gleefully sink boats with their hated dwarven enemies aboard, but catch them while they're holding a party under the full moon and they're a lot easier to deal with, especially if you brought booze.
Next prompt: Halflings!
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The Half-folk can make some of the staunchest allies. Slow to trust, but lifelong companions. Their knightly orders are not to trifled with despite their size. Fighting to the last for causes they swear themselves onto, they pass their stewardship down through the family, some charges being kept for hundreds of years. Occasionally the original pact is long forgotten by the original creators, yet the Halfling families still sworn uphold them to the best of their ability. The Halfling Houses are expansive and every halfling takes it as a point of pride tracing their lineage back. The longer your family tree, the more respect you have in the halfling community.
Next Prompt: Goblins!
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Goblins are the dark reflections of Gnomes, and the two races share a complicated love/hate relationship. Goblins, in a twist on Gnomes and the Bleaching, sometimes grow overly excitable and, when this happens, start breaking out in splotches of color, shortly before their mania leads to some sort of spectacular (and fatal) blunder. Some say that goblins have a distant fey connection, and are the 'unseelie' or 'winter court' answer to the 'seelie' or 'summer court' Gnomes. (Others say that's hogwash, and the Wayang are the 'dark reflection of gnomes.') Hobgoblins are similarly dark reflections of Elves. Bugbears may have once been the dark reflection of some more pleasant race, but they're all dead now, just the way the Bugbears like it...
Next Prompt: Lizardfolk!
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Lizardfolk are often characterized as relics of a distant past who refuse to change with the times. This is not exactly an accident, nor is it exactly a misunderstanding. The bog-dwelling lizardfolk appear to reject most forms of technology and wizardry, and build little that can't be torn down in hours. However, those who mistake this for a lack of scientific curiosity are sorely mistaken. Lizardfolk culture tends to be inordinately interested in the natural world—particularly the ways in which magic and natural science interweave.
Lizardfolk avoid major constructions and magical experimentation only out of a concern for disturbing the ecosystems they seek to learn more about. Lizardfolk dwell in their swamps not out of a lack of interest in the world outside, but out of a profound interest in the incredible biodiversity of the marshes and bogs they call home. Some lizardfolk tribes develop incredible techniques of alchemy, while other lizardfolk tribes possess in their ranks some of the mightiest druids in the known world. Many lizardfolk tribes seek to learn more about the magical beasts that call their swamps home, and are fascinated by sorcery and other "innate" forms of arcane magic—and the ways in which these innately magical creatures complicate the local ecosystem.
Of course, this attitude does often bring lizardfolk civilizations into conflict with other powers who regard the swamps as barriers to progress, or as resources to be exploited. Lizardfolk find most urbanized races to be intensely dull, and perhaps out of sheer pretentiousness, few lizardfolk bother to learn the human, dwarven or halfling tongues—which only heightens tensions when a human town demands to drain the swamp for farmland, or to exterminate a population of dangerous catoblepas. For their part, lizardfolk are quite prepared to defend their borders, and their inobtrusive lifestyle and temporary architecture both lend themselves quite well to guerilla warfare. Their relatively small numbers can prove a dangerous disadvantage, however, when facing an industrialized foe. This has made the lizardfolk an embattled and often bitter people, and insensitive visitors to their lands should be prepared for a chilly reception.
Next Prompt: Goblins!
I didn't see that, thanks! We can obviously repeat (everybody has their different ideas, after all), but let's say troglodytes.
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Countless millenia ago, a race of serpentfolk ruled the world, and fashioned a powerful warrior caste of fellow reptilian humanoids from the saurian beasts that stalked the jungles of their empire.
This is not the story of those serpentfolk, for their towers toppled and slid into the sea, and their history is forgotten, even by their degenerate survivors, far underground. Also far underground, remnants of their warrior caste, called xulgath, or 'troglodytes,' eke out an entirely separate existence (and still hate and fear their former masters, for reasons even they have forgotten), having turned to a demon lord at the time of the great collapse and taken refuge in the lightless depths.
Twisted over thousands of years, they no longer resemble the other surviving branches of this ancient saurian warrior race (some on the surface, called lizardfolk, some appealing to yet other vile patrons and taking to the sea as sahuagin), and have a unique stench that marks the growth of the demon lord's corruption within their bodies, a corruption that feeds over their lives of dark service, and increases with each death, as the reeking gelatinous shuddering tumors that grew within them during life are carefully harvested and taken to a great pit, where they are cast in to join the countless others, merging into a colossal reeking ooze that will finally mature and disgorge the physical host of the demon lord Zevgavizeb, incarnate at last in this place, midwifed into terrible existence by the sacrifice of a thousand thousand xulgath lives...
Next prompt: Aranea (or Anadi, spider-peeps!)
(I like that Lizardfolk bit, KC! I imagine that the lizardfolk are like humans-in-reverse. Humans are all about changing the natural world and leaving behind cities and towers and roads, while lizardfolk perhaps enter an area that was once developed and start breaking stuff down, and 'living so lightly on the land', as tool-free an existence as possible, that the area looks increasingly unsettled, as if no 'civilized' race had ever lived there. Their skin is armor, so they make none. Their claws and teeth are weapons, so no need for forges. No need for shelter from the elements. No need for fire to cook food, or shed light. No need for written language, for their memories are prodigious, and they remember their history just fine. Everything about them has evolved them away from material needs, and they shun 'things.' They are nature's immune system, breaking everything back down to be recycled, after 'civilized' races have come and gone...)
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The small settlements of aranea aren't arranged randomly. They trace and monitor the 'Web That Weaves The World', ley lines. Some of their settlements are mobile - they need to be because they perform rituals that move the ley lines. Over time they are changing the ley lines into a great glyph which will bar entry by many extraplanar beings among other effects.
The great glyph is presented as the aranea's gift to the world on the rare occasions it comes up but they have other reasons for doing so. If complete it will impede some divine magic (they use arcane exclusively) and more importantly will prevent their pursuers from catching them.
They remember those pursuers (Those Of Stolen Eyes) directly as almost all aranea absorb the memories of those before them. The few who don't are pitied rather than renegades as they lack much of the physical and magical power of aranea . Normal aranea refer to themselves in plural forms due to those shared memories and favor art which looks differently from different directions - different strands of memory and personality can lay claim to a single piece of art that way.
Next prompt: Drow!
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Kitsune are the descendants of a coven of witches who interbred with their own familiars. They combine a talent for curses and causing accidents to their foes with the vindictive bloodlust of their fox ancestors. Most travellers into the dark forests know that you should always bring a gift to placate the kitsune... but do not expect them to keep their word even then...
Next - Aasimar.
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Who'd be a human? Short lifespans, vulnerable at night, no particularly special abilities. Fortunately there's a fix. Summon or lure an angel to the material plane, drain its blood and bathe in it as the angel dies and you can leave humanity behind. You can even apply this process to others though they may not fully appreciate it, ungrateful children that they are. It doesn't always work quite right and there are claims that mental imbalances result but the frontiers of knowledge must continue to expand. For SCIENCE!
Next prompt: Catfolk!
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Centuries ago, the catfolk were divine messengers, sent by the benign deities of Tian Xia to watch over their followers and protect them from verminous nuisances such as goblins. Blessed with a long lifespan these angelic beings frequently lived for generations in the same village, and were treated almost as living gods, given offerings and pampered by their neighbours.
However, as time passed, they forgot their true mission and began to think of themselves as rightful rulers of these small settlements, and turned from being protectors to tyrants, ruling with vindictive and whimsical cruelty. The gods, seeing how their servants had fallen, cursed them to have the features of animals and drove them out.
Most of these early catfolk (still divine and long lived in nature) took up service with demon lords, and became the bloodthirsty abysal warriors they are today, but a few rare members of the race remember their roots and struggle to return to the favour of the good gods, in the hope of being redeemed from the ‘curse of fur’.
Next: Ratfolk
Ratfolk - hard working, loyal and industrious, the ratfolk are the backbone of many a human kingdom.
When young they are highly nomadic and/or adventurous explorers and travelers - they long to see more of the world to seek out opportunities and to find a society they like enough to want to live in.
Many sign on as ship's crew or caravan workers or simply professions that could suit a wandering lifestyle - tinkers, doctors, couriers etc
As they mature, having seen a few cities or even countries they eventually choose a place where the values most fit their own and settle down there. Their willingness to do mucky or low status jobs and their enthusiasm for their adopted home usually makes them pretty welcome immigrants.
They are very much lawful but run the full gamut of alignments from good to evil. Their approach to life tends to give them family connections scattered across the world (and plenty of young ratfolk willing to carry letters and parcels in exchange for a chance to visit relatives abroad). Family visits can often turn to arguments however as relatives have often developed very differing political or religious views.
One thing that unites ratfolk however is a hatred of pirates, brigands or any thing or group that threatens travelers. Societies that block people coming and going are abhorrent to them.
next - Oread
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Oreads are not technically their own race, but an example of what happens when a dwarf delves too far, or too deep within their mines. Occasionally a kind of mania will take the most hidebound traditionalists of the dwarves and should this change in personality not be caught by their loved ones or clan in time they'll slip away into the deepest parts of their clanhold's mines.
As weeks pass, and hunger and thirst begin to take the dwarf crystalline growths begin to form on their skin. Over the course of months they undergo a shocking transformation into an Oread, and they will return to their clanhold...details of their former life gone with just enough similarity to their previous body to be recognizable by those who knew them well in their prior life.
Oreads are a point of conflict with dwarves as to this day no one knows why the transformation occurs. Some view it as a mark of special favor from the dwarven gods, while others reference an ancient war against a magically adept foe, claiming its a lingering curse on their race and oreads are not to be trusted.
Next-lizardmen
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Sometimes a goblin gets too much food for too long and starts growing and bloating wildly. Iron self-discipline is required to halt the process before the goblin turns into an ogre or worse. Those who manage to control their appetites are called 'hobgoblins'.
Hobgoblins are obsessed with maintaining their body shape and are often seen holding to strange diets and herbal regimens. Some all but worship elves for their ability to remain slender and can be greatly hurt by elvish rejection.
Exercise can blend into weapons practice and curious styles. No two hobgoblins use exactly the same forms as they deal with their expanding waistlines in very personal ways, what works for me isn't what what works for you, y'know?
Next prompt: Suli!
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A not-uncommon wish is for a beautiful ever-youthful companion, and, with surprising regularity, the wisher rarely seems to find lasting love with this wished-for companion, and they end up out in the cold. (Or standing over the body of the person who wished them into existence and then spurned them, with a bloody knife in hand, whatever.)
And they don't really age, because nobody wishes for a hot date that is prone to getting wrinkles and liver-spots.
So, over the centuries, dozens of these wish-created individuals have indeed found love, with each other, and, quite miraculously, since they are not fertile with any other race, they can have children with each other, and have become a (rare) race of their own, with shapely and vigorous bodies, engaging personalities, and strange ties to the magic of wishcraft, and the various genies, that created them.
Next prompt: Vishkanya!
Love takes many forms. Sometimes it is the form of a being for their mate. Sometimes, it is the love of a child for their parent.
Still other times it is the love of an expert for their craft. All know this primal emotion although they may not describe it the same way, but all know it as a defining moment in their lives when they find it. A thousand thousand lifetimes ago, a people thought degenerate by their staid neighbors for their hedonistic ways not only discovered enlightenment as a people, but how to transform it into a liquid that could be bottled, stored, and enjoyedat one's convenience. Driven only slightly mad by their discovery, they shared it with all who asked at first, and then with all who demanded it. All who begged for it, all who required it, all who were curious about it- none were turned away. Until the day came that all who were left were those who refused it. What to do with such unfortunates who denied themselves this fundamental truth?
Magic was involved, of course, as was what washad become centuries of knowledge of mortal psyche and philosophy. In the end, the beings known as vishkanya ended up looking much as they do today a perfect blend of serpentine grace and bipedal function, eager to share all their people have discovered through their "venomous bite". That some cannot handle the blissful enlightenment coursing through their secretious glands is a true tragedy, but one that can be mitigated through the sharing of lesser physical ones found in carnal prowess, which the vishkanya use to batten those of weak constitution until they are ready to be introduced to true love and understanding via their hollow fangs.
Next up, Rakshasha!
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We were gods once. Immortal flesh born of the world itself.
The Osiriani rightly worshipped us under the names Bast, Anubis, Horus, Hathor, Apshai, Thoth, Set, Sobek, Khepri, Sekhmet and many others. We walked among them, spreading our blessings (some perhaps a bit more freely than others, Bast's children now number in the thousands, called by some, 'catfolk').
But then the whispers from the outer worlds, distant places that mortals called 'the planes,' called to our followers, and enticed them with gifts beyond what we could give them, foul unnatural secrets to break the bonds of death and bring souls back from paradise to one again walk the earth, to bend the skies and the heavens to their will, to shake the earth and call forth the storm. Where we worked with the world, they bent it to their will and forced it to heel with their 'divine' magic, treating it with no more respect than a cowed dog or an unthinking tool to be used and discarded.
We could not compete with such bribes, and fell from the fickle hearts of what was once our people, reviled by these 'gods' and their new worshippers as fiends and deceivers. We'll show them fiends. We shall become these 'deceivers!' Let their lie become truth, and them burn in the fires of their own making.
We will tear it all down, their temples, their clergy, their nations, their dignity and pride and hopes and dreams, it will all be as ash on the wind and mud beneath our feet.
Next: Naga!
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Nagas think they're gods. Maybe they are. If they're gods, they're very, very weak ones—but every naga will refer to themselves as such, often with a suitably narrow portfolio, such as "Ameliss, Goddess of the Frosted Grass Blades that Prickle Your Feet in the Morning Hours".
Next Prompt: Orcs! It's been a while, after all.
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Deep below Golarion, in the Orvian Vault of Deep Tolguth, the 'Vault Builders' of addled fantasy and whispered legend crafted servitor races. One, brutish and strong, fit to haul great stone blocks great distances, was infused with the 'Black Blood' that seeped up from the sodden clay of that land, and developed a potent knack for necromancy, that still manifests to this day as occasional spontaneous births of 'black-blooded' orcs with a talent for the the bone oracles or undead sorcerer bloodline.
But the vast majority of todays orcs are far, far fallen (risen?) from these dark beginnings, and as the race burrowed ever skyward, farther from the black blood of their origins, the talent fell away, and the race degenerated further until the present day orcs of the surface world tend to be seen as violent thuggish brutes, with no real talent for magic, or ancient lore worth mention.
Still, deep below Golarion, perhaps in Vaults yet to be discovered, great ziggurats still flow with the blood of sacrifices made by black-blooded priests, while legions of the shambling dead await the order to rise to the surface world and claim it in the name of the Destroyer, their masters tapping into fell power that some say leaks like blood rent from the very walls of the prison of the Great Beast itself...
Next: Grippli!
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Grippli
The toadfolk, the curseborn, the poisoned tongue. All titles well earned.
Grippli are a small but vexatious demon spawn, who enter the mortal plane when a curse of unusual potency is spoken, or the words of an evil spell are fumbled. They leap out of the speaker’s mouth and scuttle off into the undergrowth, to cause trouble. They are sometimes mistaken for fey as they perform similar tacts, such is turning milk sour or stealing livestock, but grippli ‘tricks’ generally end up with someone dead at the end of a poisoned dart.
Toadfolk Are not particularly strong or powerful, and can be scared off by strong displays of faith in goodly gods, but thet excel at ambush techniques, and are a serious danger to small communities if they appear.
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Some say that the elemental-touched races have genie blood, and distant ancestors among the djinn and efreet, but those worthies would never stoop to consort with a mortal in such a fashion, and even if one did, their immortal essence is as smokeless fire, no more able to quicken life in a mortal than a gentle breeze or the the light from a candle's flame.
And yet these races exist, for in ancient times, sorcerers of the elemental bloodlines sought to grow their power by infusing elemental essences into themselves, bought (or seized) at great cost from the elemental planes. And, for a time, they indeed had greater power over their respective elements than before, but a strange thing happened, and their children and children's children showed some unusual aspect towards these elements as well, no longer truly being human themselves. That was millenia ago, and the sorcerous societies are as dust and legend, and the secrets of infusing elemental essence stolen from the distant planes into the body of a mortal sorcerer are lost (and perhaps the rare essences used have become impossible to find, after this time of plunder?), but their descendants still thrive, breeding true among each other, and sometimes, most unpredictably, popping up in mortal births from families that have no recollection of any such heritage, wakened by particularly strong elemental confluences in regions where the borders between the worlds grow thin (or at times of year believed to be particularly auspicious or attuned to the element in question).
Such children, born to mortal parents, but with a gift of fire (or air, earth or water) in their heart, are thought to be blessed, in Qadira and Casmaron, and journey to enclaves of 'their kind,' in the mountains of Kho, or other regions, but, in other lands, might be reviled as a kind of changeling child or evidence of infidelity with an unnatural outsider, and driven forth, or even slain as children!
Next: Skulks!
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The creatures known as skulks are descended from animate masonry. There's human blood in there too, whether because of sacrifices included in the construction or because humans will do anything.
In any case they settle around ruins or other unattended structures, caring for and maintaining them (they may originally have been caretakers intended to be out of sight, out of mind) and subtly discouraging others from staying nearby. A few other humanoids who stay anyway and who leave out milk for brownies or similar may find their dwellings repaired and the milk mysteriously gone.
Next: Centaurs!
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The creatures known as skulks are descended from animate masonry. There's human blood in there too, whether because of sacrifices included in the construction or because humans will do anything.
In any case they settle around ruins or other unattended structures, caring for and maintaining them (they may originally have been caretakers intended to be out of sight, out of mind) and subtly discouraging others from staying nearby. A few other humanoids who stay anyway and who leave out milk for brownies or similar may find their dwellings repaired and the milk mysteriously gone.
Ooh, skulks in the niche of house-fae (or ruins-haunts who throttle anyone who tries to camp overnight in 'their' ruins!). Interesting!
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Centaurs are not actually that ancient a species. As the stories go, long ago a human kingdom amassed an army with which they intended to conquer the faerie lands. At first, the human army, especially its cavalry, seemed unstoppable. So the lords of the fey fashioned the beings that would defeat the human horsemen in their own image; part human, part horse.
While that human kingdom has long since fallen, the centaurs remain. Their creators made them strong-willed to resist the fear of a massed cavalry charge, so it should have been little surprise when the centaurs did not fear the consequences of disobeying their fey masters. These days, centaurs do not answer to anyone except themselves.
NEXT: Tengu
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The archangel Tenguthiel was prophesied to be killed in a climactic battle. Knowing this, he prepared himself for sacrifice. The hordes of Darkness seemed set to overrun the Holy Citadel, as angels and demons struggled in the stormy skies overhead.
As Tenguthiel was transfixed by seven black spears, he released the feathers from his wings. They fluttered to the earth and rose as a thousand bird-man warriors who drove the enemy from the field.
Since that day, their descendants, the Tengu, defend the world from evil, renowned swordsmen and ever-vigilant wardens.
Next: Svirfneblin
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The archangel Tenguthiel was prophesied to be killed in a climactic battle. Knowing this, he prepared himself for sacrifice. The hordes of Darkness seemed set to overrun the Holy Citadel, as angels and demons struggled in the stormy skies overhead.
As Tenguthiel was transfixed by seven black spears, he released the feathers from his wings. They fluttered to the earth and rose as a thousand bird-man warriors who drove the enemy from the field.
Since that day, their descendants, the Tengu, defend the world from evil, renowned swordsmen and ever-vigilant wardens.
Ooh, that's hot! A very suitably mythic start for the race.
(And it's open to all sorts of reflavoring, if Tenguthiel was an Agathion with crow-features, or an Azata associated with storms, or the tengu were in some way tainted slightly by the seven shadow spears impaling their master, explaining why later generations are not as driven towards goodness as their origins imply, you could go all sorts of directions, depending on the outsider who provides their genesis and the circumstances of their death.)
Jotund trolls are born as litters of a dozen or so which merge as they grow - not even a female jotund could force out a nine-headed baby. Any excess over the nine required are eaten by their littermates sooner or later. Sometimes one runs away and escapes, and there are gnomes who watch for them and raise the resulting svirfneblin as one of their own.
The magic of the svirfneblins has implications for the origins of trolls. Perhaps they were once a race with a full culture of their own? Jotund trolls questioned know nothing of this, but the right question posed to the right immortal outsider might lead to interesting answers.
Next: Ghoran!
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It was all a terrible joke. The gnomes in charge of the feast for Nex's nameday gathered the finest most succulent fruit and vegetables and arranged them elegantly in form of a man and woman, standing proud. The Arclord overseeing this detail found it a true work of art, but, lacking in magic, which was kind of Nex's thing. So he animated them, and had them sweep into the party, dance with guests, and put on a bit of show before dramatically mounting the table and arraying themselves to be devoured.
Nex may perhaps have been just a bit maudlin on this three-hundredth and thirtieth and third celebration of the day of his naming, and when the first guest reached for a tasty bit to pluck it free and begin the feast, he smacked their hand and treated the animated feast as if they were actual people, he uttered words of magic that even the mightiest Arclords shuddered to realize were those of the legendary Wish incantation, which few could invoke, and none would ever so casually! And so the joke was turned on the jokesters, as the feast they crafted to appear so lifelike and real, became truly alive and aware, and were treated as honored guests for the rest of the day, to their chagrin.
The next day, Nex had apparently lost interest in 'these new people' and things got less pleasant for them, and they only became a species because they turned out to be quite... fruitful and by the morning over a dozen smaller Ghoran were floating away like dandelion seeds, to spread all over the country that bears their maker's name.
Next: Dark Creepers!
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Dark Creepers are the beings from which all other Dark Folk arise. Packs of them wander the streets of towns and cities at night, inspiring terror in other people. Once they have collected enough of this psychic energy, a pack of Dark Creepers will fuse together and use the accumulated terror they have acquired to collectively transform themselves into one of the stronger varieties of Dark Folk.
This transformation can only happen once, so the Dark Creepers who make up a pack tend to hold off on the amalgamation until they've collected enough terror to become truly powerful, though some will collectively transform into a less-powerful but still stronger variety of Dark Folk if the pack is threatened by a stronger foe or they are compelled by one of the stronger Dark Folk who doesn't want their rivals getting too powerful.
Next: Wyvarans!
Some of the more powerful dragons can change back and forth between humanoid and dragon easily. Less powerful dragons can try to do so, but risk getting caught between shapes.
You might think this risk would prevent weaker dragons from even making the attempt. This view misses just how bad life may be at the bottom of the pecking order in draconic society, especially for the chromatic types. An unusually strong and powerful human or elf has a much better life than the runt of a dragon's litter.
Over time the number of failed shapechanges builds up and they and their descendants have formed a culture of their own, more than a little cranky and defensive to outsiders but not usually as oppressive to the weaker among them as chromatic dragons are - not all abused go on to abuse. They are still as greedy for gold as their draconic ancestors and may offer to trade draconic lore for payment, but beware their tendency to make stories up rather than admit lack of knowledge.
Next: Reefclaws!
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While most people have assumed that the mysterious bird-like strix have been slowly dying off for centuries, the truth is that they are nearing the end of a great migration. Many years ago, a strix hunting party found a planar rift that led to the Elemental Plane of Air. The hunters found that their natural affinity for flight gave them a huge advantage when navigating the plane, and so they brought tales of this astounding new frontier with them when they returned home.
While many strix refused to leave their homes on the Material Plane at first, several lost wars with human nations either killed off most of the dissenters or else convinced them that a new start on another plane wasn’t a bad idea. The refugees learned from the disasters that befell their forebears, and there is now a powerful strix state that is ruled from their new planar home.
Of course, a few diehard strix yet remain in their ancestral lands, and there are some members of the strix state who think that since they are organized and fortified in their new planar stronghold, now is the best time for the strix to strike back at the humans who forced them to flee in the first place...
Next: Nagaji
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A fleshforger in the Nexian city of Ecanus crafted these humanoids to serve as spies to counter those of neighboring Jalmeray, with which Nex was at something of a cold war of intelligence and counter-intelligence (and Jalmeray was handily winning...). Rumor has it that naga and serpentfolk stock went into their creation, and indeed, they seem to have an unusual relationship with 'degenerate' serpentfolk, who misidentify them as fellow serpentfolk. Their utility was somewhat overshadowed by their loyalty to the shifty motives of their creator, who loathed Jalmeray, and had indeed fled there, to assume the guise of a human wizard, being herself secretly a Rakshasa...
Said Rakshasa now sits on the Council of Three and Nine, a respected Arclord of Nex, none the wiser of her sinister lineage.
Next: Syrinx
Hands are the superpower of humanoids; a parliament of giant owl augurs seeking to replicate this used magic to alter their own offspring in the egg. Syrinx are the result.
Of course all children frustrate their parents and the syrinx flew far away rather than remain as hand-servants. They turned the prophetic powers of their elders into the ability to communicate with other avians, and listen carefully for rumours of silent wings in the night searching for them.
Next: Strix!
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It's not just humans that dream. Animals of many kinds do also, and when they dream of humans some project a half-human, half-animal vision.
Not every kitten has the magic power to create a large, solid form with significant magic power of course, or the intelligence to guide it. A few great beasts do, but most only create lamia when sleeping on ley lines at the same time as a humanoid upstream along the ley line from them.
Lamias act out the dreams of their dreamers. This can be dangerous, especially but not exclusively if the dreamer has been abused or attacked recently. While distance is not a thing in the Dimension of Dreams lamias only appear in places the dreamer knows and has reason to dream about.
Deliberately creating a lamia is a risky business. Lamias may pick up information that they have no business knowing through the Dimension of Dreams, and come after those who have arranged for them to be created with playful or vengeful intentions - either can be very dangerous.
Next up: Mimics!
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Long ago there was a Doppelganger who traveled a lot and saw many places and cultures where people had pets. They didn't have one and set about getting one so they would have a traveling companion. Each time they got one it went well until they used their natural shapeshifting ability. Once that happened the animal would become distant, try to run off, or even attack the Doppelganger.
Quite upset by all of this, the Doppelganger came to the conclusion that if they wanted a pet, they would need one that could shapeshift as well. One that could even go with them into places pets were normally not allowed. With a bit of research and large payments to a Druid that dabbled in fleshcrafting the Doppelganger finally had the pet they so desired.
That, young would-be-adventurers, is the story of how I brought Mimics into the world thousands of years ago.
Next Prompt: Pseudodragons!
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The messengers of the great wyrms, pseudodragons serve as emissaries for the true dragons—even chromatic dragons will count a pseudodragon or two among their servants. Pseudodragons are inscrutable when questioned on their reasons, but in truth, the kindly creatures care little for wyrmkind. They just know that when dragons go to hash things out directly, innocents tend to get caught underfoot. Pseudodragons are saddened by kobolds, who seem totally devoted to the mighty wyrms, and often will try to befriend and subtly encourage their fellow minions to see things in a more nuanced perspective.
Next Prompt: Worgs!