Ecology of the Satyr
"Now that was a party!" Pel said as he rolled onto his back. "The Summer Solstice festival is always a favorite of mine," Pel continued as he smiled, lost in a memory of the previous night. "By the way, what day is it?"
I, too, rolled onto my back, but my face was one of pain and suffering as I opened my eyes. The early morning sunlight caused my head to scream in agony. It was as if someone stuck the tip of a javelin through my eyes and directly into my brain. "I have no idea, Tuesday maybe? The concept of time was meaningless after Friday."
"Well, my friend," Pel said, pulling himself into a sitting position and tucking his cloven-hooved legs underneath his torso, "I am so glad you were able to come. I was worried you might not be able to make it." (1)
"Right now, I wish that owlbear had been a bit harder to track. I think I hurt more now than after wrangling with the creature." I sat up gingerly and squinted at my friend. His loose cotton trousers were the only thing he was wearing at the moment. The fact that he was shirtless didn't surprise me, although I wondered how much he spent on his wardrobe. Pel often woke up without a shirt, even though he started his evenings wearing one, usually made from the finest silk.
A small crew had begun to dismantle the large tent that was the center of the festival's activities to our left. A myriad of smaller tents dotted the landscape, each holding a person of wealth and stature, rich enough to afford their own private residence for the festival. We, of course, weren’t in that category, but at least we had found a small patch of lush grass to pass out on. The gods know we had woken up in much worse places.
"See that tent over there to the right? The one with the yellow stripes and purple stars? That's the tent of Sir Wilfred Havenstock and Lady Maurena. They were quite a fun couple!" Pel smiled even more expansive, and I, too, broke into a smile. They were fun, but I doubt Pel and I talked about the same thing. Pel caught my eye, and as if he could read, my mind started to laugh. "Oh, come now. Sure, we spent an evening as a tangle of naked flesh, enjoying one another. But they were fun outside of their bed too. I always appreciate someone who can laugh so easily, and they both could."
It was then that Lady Maurena emerged from the tent. I wondered how someone could look that put together this early in the morning. As she scanned the landscape, she saw us and gave a big wave and an even bigger smile.
"Fair enough," I said, smiling again as I remembered the deep baritone laugh of Sir Wilfred. "You do seem to have that effect on people, Pel." My smile turned into a wry one, as I knew damn well that Pel, along with most Satyrs, had the power to allow people to throw aside their inhibitions. (2) While Pel's, let's call it natural charm, had little effect on me, I always felt worn out and hungover after spending time with him.
"The ale this year was fantastic. The elves really outdid themselves this year." Pel said as he looked through his rucksack and, lo and behold, pulled out a bottle of the rich and creamy beverage. He took a long pull from it and gestured for me to take a drink. My stomach lurched at the idea, but I found myself reaching for the bottle and taking a swig.
Pel had also pulled out his panpipe along with the bottle and began to play a soft melody. "Your musical charms won't work on me," I laughed, knowing damn well he knew it too. I was just happy he wasn't playing them loud enough for anyone to hear. (3) I needed to get back to work and had no time for more debauchery with my friend.
Pel gestured for the bottle back and put the panpipes away to take a drink. When he finished, he gave me that wry grin once more. "Have to stay in practice, my friend. You never know when some malleable lad or lass may cross my path."
I sighed, knowing it was in his nature. Leading such a hedonistic lifestyle seemed so exhausting to me, but Pel never showed any indication that he was ever going to slow down. I took the bottle once again and finished it off. About 100 yards away, a group of men was taking down the challenge ring, a place where people could challenge one another in a test of strength and fighting prowess. The satyr used the arena every solstice to determine their leader for the next year.
"You certainly fared poorly in the ring this year," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Pel reflexively reached up and rubbed his horns. "Not my best showing," he said. Pel frowned as he ran his hand over the divot on his left horn. "In my defense, we both know I'm more of a lover than a fighter. I may have been a bit overconfident when I challenged Kayrn. Looks like he's the new chief for this upcoming year" (4).
"Yeah, probably shouldn't have picked a fight with the biggest Satyr at the festival." I chuckled. "Maybe if your brother was here…."
Pel turned his gaze to me, making a face that was a part frown, part smile. "Screw Matil. He's such a bore." I knew that Pel loved his brother, but he was right. Matil could be fun, but a majority of the time he was downright boring, especially compared to Pel. "Thornbearers take themselves way too seriously. It's not like they can't take a little time off from defending the Feywild from our supposed enemies." (5) Pel rummaged around in his bag, most likely looking for another bottle. "Now, my cousin Feh, he's magnificent fun!"
I groaned, thinking of Feh and the past 24 hours the three of us had spent together. Or at least what I could remember of it. "They aren't called revelers for nothing. His songs put every single bard here to shame." (6). Pel pulled a much smaller bottle from his bag that I knew contained a more potent liquor. "How about the group of loxodon he put under his spell. Who knew they were such graceful dancers?" Pel pulled the stopper from the bottle, gave it a sniff, smiled, and took a sip. His eyes closed in a mixture of joy and relief. After opening his eyes, he held out the bottle.
"Oh no, time for me to go. There's work to be done and gold to be made." I gathered up my stuff, well, what I could find, shoved it into my backpack, and stood to go. Pel had laid back down and stared at the morning sky.
"Be well, my friend," Pel said without looking at me. "I hope it doesn't take until the next solstice festival to see you again."
"Well, it may take me that long to recover from this one," I said but laughed all the same. "Farewell, my friend," I continued as I walked away. "Enjoy the next party you find."
Just then, I heard the unmistakable voice of Sir Haverford call out for Pel to join them. "Next party? Who says this one is over?" he said with joy in his voice. I couldn't help but grin, not having to look back to know Pel was trotting over for another day of unbridled merriment.
Satyrs look like male humans whose lower bodies are covered in fur and cloven hooves of goats. Horns sprout from their heads, many curling rams' horns. Some will have short-styled facial hair. Source - Basic Rules
Drunk on wine and pleasure, satyrs give no thought to the consequences of the hedonism they incite in others. Those affected are often mystified at their own behavior. Source - Basic Rules
Variant Satyrs can use panpipes to play one type of song; a charming melody, a frightening strain, or a gentle lullaby. When they do so, any creature within 60 feet of the satyr that can hear the pipes must succeed on a DC 13 Wisdom saving throw or be affected as described below. Other satyrs and creatures that can't be charmed are unaffected. Each melody has the following effects.
Charming Melody. The creature is charmed by the satyr for 1 minute. If the satyr or any of its companions harms the creature, the effect on it ends immediately.
Frightening Strain. The creature is frightened for 1 minute.
Gentle Lullaby. The creature falls asleep and is unconscious for 1 minute. The effect ends if the creature takes damage or if someone takes an action to shake the creature awake. Source - Monster Manual
A leader reigns in one-year spans, renewed or lost each spring in a special ceremony known to the satyr as the Rutt. Basically, the Rutt is a trial of elimination through bare-handed combat among all mature members of the group. Satyrs consider the use of their horns legal in this contest. The battles are never to the death, as the intent is to humble the loser and acknowledge the winner's superiority. Source - Dragon Magazine #155 (March 1990)
The Thornbearers are those willing to use their bows to defend their homes. Their unique ability is Hail of Arrows. The satyr fires an arrow that magically transforms into a flurry of missiles in a 30-foot cone. Each creature in that area must make a DC 14 Dexterity saving throw, taking 17 (5d6) piercing damage on a failed save or half as much damage on a successful one. This ability recharges after a Short or Long Rest. Source - Mythic Odysseys of Theros
The Satyr Reveler spends their lives hunting for the next party or festival. They prefer to do this with others, tempting others to eat, drink, and carouse with them. Even if a person turns them down, the reveler will use the magic of their music, dance, or other performances to charm these individuals into partying with them. Source - Mythic Odysseys of Theros
If you like our articles, love Homebrew, and are looking for a fun and active community to talk about all things D&D, consider supporting us on Patreon. Below are some of the benefits we offer:
Access to our Homebrew Horde with over 300 items and counting!
Vote on upcoming Deep Deep topics
Monthly online one-shot adventures
Early access to Deep Dive and Rewind Articles
Even more Homebrew in our Magic Item Monday and Monster Thursday series
Exclusive audio from our new YouTube Deep Dive series
Art Credit - NateFlamm
