The Sons of Salem

Terry may tap into his empathic understanding of others to communicate with any human, regardless of their language. His empathy protects him from malicious communications.

While activating this effect, Terry takes a deep breath, and teal, glowing sparks enter his mouth with the breath.

The caster sings a song the language and words change, but the message stays the same. The joining of friends and remembrance of the dead. As the song continues a ghost wind wraps the caster moving their clothing. If cast on a dead target a ghostly form slowly forms, as long as the dead wishes to be seen. This form is formed from mist coming from the folds of the hat.

Once fused with a cunning alien parasite gifted in predatory mimicry, Riku’s mind and body gained the power to analyze, replicate, and speak any language heard. The parasite’s instinct for survival rewired his motor functions, adapting his muscles and vocal cords to mimic every nuance—accent, cadence, even subtle emotional cues. It listens, learns, transforms—erasing barriers, blending into crowds, and unearthing secrets never meant for outsiders. What began as camouflage for the symbiont’s protection has become Riku’s ultimate edge, rendering him a ghost in any gathering and a dangerous polyglot in a world of secrets.

An unholy jolt goes through your limbs as you hone in on the voice's monologue, allowing it a modicum of control over your person. A chill settles into your body, punctuated by pinpricks of uncomfortable warmth. This is the price and privilege of communion.

The Werecat lets their bestial nature assert itself slightly, allowing them to speak to their fellow beasts unhindered by their mortal self.

The beastmaster can speak to and understand any animal.

The Necromancer spits into the mouth of a recently deceased corpse. For the few minutes, the corpse's head comes back to life and speaks to the Necromancer.