Phasewalkers

Aether elementals are made of living aether, the rare fifth element that arises on the Ethereal Plane near the borders of the Elemental Planes.

Wysps are five races of tiny elemental beings. Aether wysps were the first wysps, born of the same convergence between ethereal and elemental that spawned the aether element. For a time, the first wysps roamed the Ethereal and Elemental Planes freely in symphonies led by exuberant wysp conductors, playing out the otherworldly music of their resonances, but soon the elemental lords discovered the value of wysps as minions, and bred them into new races to support their forces in battle. Today, most wysps do their best to support allies, even giving their lives for their masters. Free symphonies of wysps still exist on their home planes and the Material Plane, though the enslavement of their kind has made them shy.  Even in the harshest servitude, wysps retain their curious nature and intelligence. When free to act as they please, they are playful and carefree, with mild differences in personality between the elements. Aether wysps are shy and mysterious  Wysps happily offer their services to kind allies, though generally only elementally attuned creatures, kineticists, and spellcasters who summon elementals can make much use of a wysp’s assistance. A 7th-level spellcaster who has the Improved Familiar feat can gain a wysp as a familiar.

Esipils prey upon the unease that comes from living among beasts. The civilized world has domesticated animals, but those creatures are just a step away from wild animals, and esipils make sure that humanoids who live around them remember that. They ingratiate themselves with humanoids (particularly neutral evil spellcasters who might take them on as familiars) by acting like loving pets. They then delight in aggressive episodes, barking and snapping until called down by their masters. They return to a fawning obedience for a time—until the next inevitable outburst.  Instead of gnashing jaws, an esipil’s bite involves a lashing mass of fleshy veins and viscera that can grasp at its opponent. Esipils use this attack to distract their opponents, savaging entangled victims with their vicious claw attacks until their masters pull them away.  Although an esipil’s ability to frighten its victims is potent, it relies on its cause fear spell-like ability only when grossly outnumbered, outmatched, or greatly injured. Esipils like to fight and scrap with nearly anything, and prefer that their victims not simply flee in terror, as they wish to savor the fear. Esipils use their telepathic abilities to harass would-be opponents into attacking them first, flinging mental taunts that are vulgar and disconcerting. Once they engage, they are resilient and dogged fighters.  An esipil stands 1 foot tall at the shoulder, and its thin, wormlike body stretches nearly 3 feet long. An esipil weighs around 13 pounds.  Though they make unruly companions, esipils actually enjoy serving those mightier than themselves, taking pride in their masters’ power, even if they continue to snap and snarl when given commands. A neutral evil spellcaster of at least 7th level who takes the Improved Familiar feat can select an esipil as a familiar.

These tiny predators of thought live almost their entire lives on the Ethereal Plane. They are so tied to that place that without its energy, a thought eater’s psychic power begins to deplete, until finally the very fabric of its own personal reality breaks down and it fades out of existence. But while the Ethereal Plane is necessary for thought eaters’ continued existence, its vastness and relative lack of prey force thought eaters to sometimes hunt on the Material Plane. Such trips are often gluttonous affairs, as the thought eaters must not only gain sustenance, but also gain enough nourishment to stave off their rapid psychic and physical decay in that hostile environment.  Normally, thought eaters are fairly single-minded, but the inherent danger in their forays to the Material Plane makes them eager for easy meals. Someone who takes the time to provide consistent easy meals for a thought eater can expect the creature to follow her on the Ethereal Plane, watching for its next feeding time. Given that every minute on the Material Plane is strenuous for a thought eater, such a person is unlikely to receive much conversation from the creature trailing her, but if something threatens the safety of its food source, the thought eater may be moved to protect its companion. In this case, the thought eater uses its daze monster ability to help the person escape and may even be motivated to cast resist energy on her. If this bizarre and alien friendship continues for long enough, the thought eater may even choose to assist in identifying magic items—when properly compensated, of course.  

Willful fugitives of the Negative Energy Plane’s dread gravity, phantoms are escaped souls of humanoid creatures in desperate search of a psychically attuned being with whom to merge—such a merger creates a spiritualist. Every phantom harbors a strong emotion that tears it from the normal path of souls seeking final judgment and reward. This dominant emotion empowers the phantom’s slam attack and can manifest in more potent forms when this creature merges with a spiritualist, but it also serves as a weight that drags the phantom into the Ethereal Plane and toward the Negative Energy Plane. Until an unfettered phantom finds a refuge, it is a frantic and shifting thing, a desperate creature of raw emotion and need.

Sometimes called an ether serpent, a hypnalis resembles a snake the size of a python sporting a hood like that of a cobra with gray stripes. The creature’s fangs carry a potent venom that is not only deadly, but can force creatures off the Ethereal Plane. While other denizens of the Ethereal Plane focus their attention on warring with each other, spying on others, or feeding on dreams, a hypnalis hunts those not native to its plane. Different hypnalises deal with such interlopers in their own ways. Some sinister or young and hotheaded hypnalises hunt such trespassers for sport, tormenting them for a while before killing them or expelling them to the Material Plane. Other older or inquisitive hypnalises are more curious about such strangers and pragmatic in their dealings with them, approaching interlopers in attempts to find out their method for traveling to the Ethereal Plane and whether or not they can return. If they can, these hypnalises might request that these interlopers leave, backing such requests with threats if the interlopers seem uncooperative. If the interlopers don’t have a method to return to their home, some rare good-natured hypnalises may help them find a way to leave the Ethereal Plane without using its poison. Even when this is the case, hypnalises are wary creatures, and are always on guard against treachery. A hypnalis is approximately 8 feet long and weighs about 20 pounds.

Wihsaaks prey on the fear of creeping, crawling, and buzzing insects. Instead of whispering from the shadows, wihsaaks blatantly present their unnerving insectile forms to frighten and demoralize humanoid mortals. Wihsaaks use their suggestion spell-like ability to coerce victims into terrifying circumstances and make them believe that their horrific actions are their own ideas. Wihsaaks savor their targets’ fear, drawing it out whenever possible. When facing a group of enemies, wihsaaks don’t immediately attack foes affected by their fear effects, and instead try to frighten all possible enemies before delivering the killing blows so as to properly season their prey in terror. When these sahkils do finally attack, their claws rip and tear flesh as easily as paper.  Wihsaaks stand 7 feet tall, have a 5-foot wingspan, and weigh around 170 pounds.

Xills are the scourge of the Ethereal Plane, conquering everything in their paths with only one purpose: to perpetuate their race at the expense of others. All xills are female and capable of fertilizing their own eggs, but require living hosts to incubate these eggs, which they inject into paralyzed victims by means of a grotesque ovipositor normally kept retracted behind their mandibles. Evil and alien, the plane-shifting xills possess impressive intelligence and a totalitarian, militaristic culture all their own. Though they see most other life forms as incubators, they particularly prize phase spiders for this purpose.

Hounds of Tindalos are otherworldly predators from beyond the bounds of known reality, usually appearing only when summoned by reckless spellcasters. Little is known about their nature outside of blood-spattered notes and deranged writings of the nearly insane survivors of their attacks. Although possessed of great cunning and cruel intellect, the hounds show no evidence of understanding or communicating with mortals. They enter the physical world on their own in pursuit of those who have trodden too much the netherways beyond time and reality—time travelers (be it physical travel or simply divinatory glimpses forward or backward in time) and creatures that teleport without regard to how this movement impacts subtle magical currents in the multiverse particularly draw their interest.

Ichkohs savor the fear of the failure of the flesh, and enjoy tormenting those who take pride in their bodies. When an ichkoh selects victims, it torments them with the knowledge of how they failed to maintain their bodies in their youth. Sometimes an ichkoh pursues a single creature for years, encouraging increasingly self-destructive behavior that, if allowed to continue, can drive a victim to suicide.  An ichkoh stands 6 feet tall and weighs 140 pounds.

From time to time, when a powerfully imaginative sleeper wakes from a particularly vivid or unusual dream, a fragment of that dream lingers on the Ethereal Plane. To survive, this animate dream needs the power of living will, imagination, and emotion to sustain it. An animate dream seeks out mortal minds, appearing as a shadowy and often frightful dream figure. Its true appearance is vague and nebulous, but it reacts to the fears and emotions of those around it, taking on a nightmarish appearance that differs for each viewer. An animate dream can find satisfaction and sustenance by passing one of its ghostly limbs through a mortal’s body—the act infusing the mortal with negative energy that sates the animate dream’s unnatural hunger. But by forcing a creature into a state of sleep, terror, or both, the animate dream can gain a much more satisfying meal, feeding on the emotions released in such states. It uses its spell-like abilities to this end, for each creature it harms with its nightmares, drives temporarily insane with confusion or fear, or outright slays with phantasmal killer provides the monster with more nourishment. An animate dream forced to go for a long period of time without feeding does not starve to death, but does grow increasingly feral and violent in nature. Animate dreams sometimes associate with other creatures from the Ethereal Plane or that have associations with dreams and nightmares, such as night hags, phase spiders, and xills. Sometimes these alliances are mutually beneficial, but in many cases the animate dreams are treated as slaves. Night hags in particular like enslaving animate dreams, and sometimes use their essence as a component in creating heartstones.

Horlas are native to the Ethereal Plane. Although they have no inborn ability to traverse the boundaries between planes, all horlas seek ways to slip onto the Material Plane so they can feed on the hopes and dreams of humanoids. Once on the Material Plane, a horla selects a favored host to plague while remaining invisible, gaining nourishment by consuming hope and leaving the host wracked with ennui. The horla slowly drives its host mad by forcing him into increasingly destructive acts, yet it is always careful to issue its commands so that the repercussions are what cause lasting harm to a victim’s social life or relationships rather than the specific acts.  When not invisible, a horla appears as spherical mass with several tentacles. A typical horla weighs 40 pounds.

Pakalchis feed on the fear and insecurity of failing relationships. They delight in seeing social bonds shatter, as they know that mortals broken or set adrift by such conflicts are more susceptible to their malign influence. Consummate puppetmasters, pakalchis use their powers of domination to turn friends and lovers against each other, relishing how even a single word can cause an avalanche of destruction as panicked victims make their situations worse. Pakalchis then draw the despondent mortals to their sides, playing cat-and-mouse games and slowly increasing physical and psychological pressure until their quarry breaks.  While they may sometimes work though intermediaries, these creatures prefer to personally witness the anxiety they cause. Pakalchis stand 7 feet tall and weigh 160 pounds.

Paragons among their kind, ether drakes once roamed the Ethereal Plane, where they gorged themselves on the aether at the edges of the Elemental Planes. In time, they returned to the Material Plane for reasons unknown. Lacking the malicious nature of most drakes, ether drakes are generally content to prey on animals.  When an unwelcome creature enters their territory, ether drakes use their psychic abilities to create mental links between others of their kind to coordinate and strategize. Ether drakes measure 16 feet long from head to tail and weigh around 2,000 pounds.

Zohanils delight in haunting those who fear needles and invasive medical procedures. They also enjoy sowing addiction in hopes of heightening despair. A zohanil stands over 6 feet tall and weighs roughly 200 pounds.

Etheric dragons are pragmatic and survival-oriented beings who dwell in the farthest reaches of the Ethereal Plane.

Qoloks prey on the fear of not having enough, urging mortals to overindulge in every way possible.

While psychopomps usher mortal souls to the proper judgment, sahkils have no care for souls and want to only torment and frighten mortals, often toying with their feelings of unease about their very mortality. Sahkils want to remind mortals that they are just that—mortal and alone in a complex and dangerous universe. Ximtals feed on the fear of not belonging, and on the fear of isolation from the rest of a community or society. A ximtal stands 14 feet tall and weighs nearly 1,000 pounds.  Ximtals are manipulative schemers by nature. Having no concern whatsoever for any law, and feeling only contempt for joy and freedom as well as a total disdain for the overarching principles of society, a ximtal uses any insecurities and other weaknesses it perceives in order to slowly erode positive thoughts and actions and keep strong-willed mortals from acting on beliefs that would aid the greater good. They foster the vulgar and abusive voices in all sides of a conflict, subjecting the sensible and sensitive to ill treatment from the loud and malignant. These sinister outsiders instill feelings of dread and hopelessness, and make people feel as if they were alone and unacknowledged even in the presence of their friends and allies.  Ximtals delight in finding impressionable and aggressive voices to do their work. They know that if they can get someone who thinks she is fighting for a good cause to use terrible tactics in her pursuit of the ideal, they can corrupt that message and seed fear, shame, and dread in what would normally be seen as a constructive endeavor. In this way, ximtals hope to transform the righteous into fanatics.  More subtly, ximtals sometimes focus their attention on friends and allies of the truly virtuous—their ultimate targets—to indirectly discredit these paragons. In these cases, ximtals encourage associates of a target to misrepresent the target’s intended cause. They work their way into the minds and ideologies of people who focus their actions on advertising their ideals and motivations; they gradually corrupt such folk, leading them to treat other voices with barely concealed aggression and contempt and make hasty decisions that run counter to their final goals. Eventually, the ximtals hope, these agents of discord will subvert the paragon’s message and mire her in despair and isolation.  Ximtals tend to remain isolated from others of their kind. They don’t often cooperate to target a certain individual or cause unless it holds some fascination specific to individual ximtals or sahkils. Instead, they spread themselves out through the multiverse to focus on divergent ideologies or selective societal crusades. Despite their tendency to be alone, some ximtals work in partnerships with pakalchis as pakalchis focus on breaking down the bonds of friendship. Working in parallel, these two types of sahkil can destroy not only friendships, but entire families or organizations.  

Kimenhuls prey upon the fear of failure, and encourage self-loathing. While all sahkils delight in spreading fear, few can leave an indelible mark of terror on its victim like a kimenhul. Among the strongest of sahkils, kimenhuls rarely leave the Ethereal Plane. Aside from the sahkil tormentors, kimenhuls are the eldest of all sahkils,   and some particularly powerful kimenhuls carve out territory in the Ethereal Plane and rule over legions of other sahkils in much the same manner. Kimenhuls that achieve long-term control are outliers among their kind, however, as the hierarchy among sahkils is more mutable and fluctuating than the rigid order of devils or kytons, or psychopomps’ strict adherence to the planar order.  A kimenhul appears as three enormous, fused humanoid skulls with mouths full of jagged fangs, sitting atop an ever-shifting mass of limbs and faces. These latter manifestations constantly try to pull free of the kimenhul’s bulk, shrieking and wailing in fear. Sometimes a creature gazing into this fluctuating horror sees a face all too familiar—a scolding parent, an old bully, or a lost lover. This may or may not be real, as the terrifying forms stretching out from a kimenhul’s body incorporate both images from the viewer’s mind and those creatures that have fallen prey to the kimenhul’s eternal fear ability. A typical kimenhul stands 25 feet tall and weighs roughly 10,000 pounds.  When a kimenhul telepathically communicates with those marked by its eternal fear, it constantly reminds them that they will never be good enough, and that they are utter failures in everything they do. These sahkils derive a perverse amount of pleasure from these brief mental interjections, and those that have made their horrific impression on large numbers of beings spend hours of each day engaged in this long-distance abuse.  This lingering torment often drives a kimenhul’s victims insane, or forces them into desperation as they attempt more and more drastic means to rid themselves of the sahkil’s influence and predation. Many of these victims end up in the care of others, as their paranoia overtakes any ability to care for themselves and they constantly worry over whether they can actually achieve anything on their own. Doubt and distrust seep into every thought. The victim can’t get the denigrating voice out of his head, and self-destruction seems the only thing that can keep it at bay.  Kimenhuls don’t bother with those they consider “lesser” minds, unless their intention is to cause havoc or rampant violence. They instead focus on instilling fear in the best and brightest they can find. Kimenhuls appreciate a challenge and even dedicate themselves to breaking down creatures that are immune to fear effects. Kimenhuls delight in tormenting the brave and confident. These cruel outsiders track down great heroes and famed generals—women and men known for courage and righteousness—and infect their otherwise strong minds with the static of constant fear. Kimenhuls share stories of their conquests with each other and any allied sahkils, bragging about the reduction of once-proud warriors to twitchy, frightened children who jump at the slightest noise.  In combat, kimenhuls combine the use of their spell-like abilities and their physical might. Enemies out of reach fall victim to a host of different effects meant to frighten or weaken, while those nearby are at risk of being trampled or snatched up by one of the kimenhul’s fanged mouths. Kimenhuls sometimes grab enemies with their bite attacks and then use their snatch between ability to bring their victims to the Ethereal Plane.  Once back on the Ethereal Plane, kimenhuls bring their kidnapped victims to their lairs, where they and their sahkil allies subject them to a host of frightening stimuli in hopes of driving them mad. Some of these victims linger in this prison of terror for decades, while others die from fright—or take their own lives to escape the torture of constant dread. Otherwise, kimenhuls do their best to keep their victims alive.  Kimenhuls generally linger near those places on the Ethereal Plane where a mortal peering into that realm might briefly glance upon their horrific visages. Most viewers only catch a terrifying, half-remembered glimpse of the sahkil and go on their ways, shaken but unscathed. Yet if the viewer looks too long into that hazy realm, a kimenhul doesn’t hesitate to expose the creature to its look of fear or eternal fear abilities, or to attempt to drag the victim back to its lair for a proper dose of terror.