Forged from infernal stone and ancient warding magic, the Gargoylefolk were first shaped by demon-smiths and mortal wizards to guard temples, castles, and cathedrals. Over time, the essence of Earth itself seeped into their forms, birthing sentience from centuries of silent duty. When the spellbinding masters perish—or their seals shatter—the Gargoylefolk awaken, free but uncertain, their minds echoing with the memories of centuries spent watching and waiting.
Their bodies are carved from dense gray or black stone, etched with runes or cracks that glow faintly in moonlight. Each Gargoylefolk bears a unique form—some winged and horned like fiends, others knightly and angular like sculpted guardians. When angered, fine dust trickles from their joints, and their eyes blaze with earthen fire. Their skin feels cold and heavy, but a faint pulse of demonic energy thrums beneath the surface.
Though their origins lie in servitude, Gargoylefolk are creatures of instinctual honor. Many seek purpose through vigilance, protection, or redemption. They can stand motionless for hours, blending seamlessly with masonry, their patience as enduring as the walls they once guarded. Despite their demonic lineage, they value stability and order, finding comfort in structure—both in stone and society.
Lacking natural affinity for magic, Gargoylefolk rely on their physical might and unyielding durability. Their stone skin turns blades, and their claws rend armor like aged bronze. Some learn to petrify parts of their bodies mid-battle, hardening limbs to deflect fatal blows. A rare few can exhale a mist of calcifying dust—a breath that turns flesh to stone if one lingers too long within it.
Freed Gargoylefolk are curiosities in mortal cities. Lords prize them as tireless sentinels, and adventurers respect their steadfast loyalty. Yet, their demonic features stir fear, and whispers of “cursed stone” follow them wherever they go. Despite this, many Gargoylefolk take to wandering—seeking a new master, a cause worth guarding, or a place where they can finally stand watch for themselves rather than another.
When exhaustion overtakes them, Gargoylefolk return to their ancient stillness, their bodies reverting to lifeless stone until reawakened by need or will. In this state, they are nearly indestructible—monuments of endurance and forgotten faith. Legends say that when the world faces great peril, the old gargoyles crack and stir once more, their stone hearts beating for the first time in centuries.