Oni
“Oni do not escalate. They are escalation—laughter, impact, and the architectural aftermath of a decision made five seconds too soon.”
Oni are not demons.
They are not mortals.
They are certainly not quiet.
They are what happens when a story asks, “What if strength had personality?”—and then leaves the consequences unsupervised. They walk through the Infinite Elsewhere with horns, fists, laughter, and no intention whatsoever of behaving.
They do not arrive politely. They arrive fully formed—with a challenge, a grin, and a structural incident. They break the door, rebuild it stronger, and are banned from three floors before the moon sets. Then someone thanks them.
No one agrees on where Oni came from. Some claim divine ancestry. Some claim cursed bloodlines, warping myths into muscle. Others just shrug and reinforce the ceiling. Origins are less important than outcomes.
And Oni are all outcomes. Loud ones.
They are myth given fists. Folklore with flair. The reason the tavern keeps spare tables and no one uses the good china.
Resonance Profile
Oni Threads do not flicker. They reverberate.
Their resonance is low, dense, and narratively weighty—like a battle drum echoing through poorly prepared plotlines. They don’t ripple like elves or spiral like humans. They land. And when they do, the story has to adjust.
Oni do not build tension.
They arrive pre-escalated.
Some Threads are born Oni. Others become Oni after surviving something they were never meant to walk away from. Either way, the Pattern treats them with cautious respect—and several structural contingency plans.
Cultural Variants (Narrative Only)
Oni do not divide by bloodline. They categorise by chaotic trajectory.
Threadwalkers will recognise familiar patterns in their kind, though no two Oni will agree on the names. The most common narrative flavours include:
- The Classic Demon Lord, who monologues, conquers, and accessorises like a cursed opera singer
- The Wandering Warrior, who drinks loudly, punches first, and apologises with carpentry
- The Reluctant Guardian, who claims not to care while shielding three children and half a village
- The Festival Oni, who solves problems with celebration, noise, and perfectly illegal fireworks
- The Cursed, who carry too much power, too many regrets, and still show up when it matters
- The Overengineered Genius, who builds bridges that explode and labs that glow for no reason
These are not mechanical divisions. They are warnings. Use them to prepare accordingly.
Roleplaying an Oni
Play an Oni if you want to:
- Be the loudest reason a party survives
- Punch a god mid-monologue
- Carry four weapons but still use your fists
- Deliver emotional speeches while upside-down or bleeding
- Break the door and fix it better
- Get banned from one town while saving another
- Pretend you don’t care while dragging your friends to safety
Oni are not subtle.
They are not reasonable.
They are not the quiet part of the story.
But they are unforgettable—because no matter how the thread begins, an Oni always arrives louder than the narrative expected.
Oni Ancestry
Your ancestry grants the following traits.
Creature Type: Humanoid
Size: Medium
Speed: 30 feet
Built for Impact.
When you shove a creature or object, you can move it an additional 5 feet. You also count as one size larger when determining your carrying capacity and the weight you can push, drag, or lift.
Doors open. Tables scatter. You don’t ask twice.
Unshaken.
You have advantage on saving throws against being frightened or knocked prone.
You are not easily moved—physically or otherwise.
Flare for the Dramatic.
You have proficiency in either Performance or Intimidation (your choice). When you roll a 1 on the chosen skill, you may reroll the die.
If you're going to make a scene, make sure it’s worth remembering.
Last Word.
Once per long rest, when you are reduced to 0 hit points, you can instead drop to 1 hit point and immediately make one melee weapon attack or cast a cantrip.
You don’t go down without a finale.
Language.
You do not track languages. ThreadSpeak ensures you are understood.
Often louder than necessary, but always clear.
I like this style of ancestry writing you are inspiring me that I might need to rewrite my settings custom ones for Pathfinder 2e rule set. I love the blend of narrative and mechanical in this style you've utilized, really focusing on the narrative, and yet insuring the mechanical does not go unlisted as it is the necessary material for running the games that you (and maybe others not sure I know some on here are making the game world their entire group play in but are not the forever GM) are running in the setting. It can really help immerse one in the character building and also provides some fun suggestions and stylizations about the sort of people/personalities one might encounter amongst such folk in the world as well. Really well done!
Yes, I've played ALOT of D&D, Pathfinder and more obscure stuff I'm a forever DM and I try to make my mechanics fit the setting, it just feels stale and clerical if u don't lean in to its style. The Oni are one of my favourites but I try to do the same for all of them, even elves are written up with this in mind. The plan with the Threadwalker Handbook is to produce my own version of SRD5.2 but with The Last Home Take on the rules, while you can still use everything I write for a normal D&D game I wanted it to something more something uniquely The Last Home. Last Home is about stories the entire cosmology is based on my own mishaps and stress of writing so yea. Right I've waffled enough for now.
Still standing. Still scribbling. Still here.
The Last Home