Someone Made Fall Guys A Playable Race In D&D 5E And I Don’t Even Know Anymore

When is a game truly a success? When it makes back its development cost? When it achieves millions of loyal fans? When former Twitch streamers and celebrities start playing? No. It’s when somebody turns the faceless jelly beans in Fall Guys into a playable race in Dungeons & Dragons. All other measures of success pale in comparison.

We have Jaron R. M. Johnson to thank for this. They said it was to celebrate Fall Guys getting 1 million followers on Twitter as well as TimTheTatman’s first win, but really, this was probably brewing in their head for a while. Any excuse to unleash this abomination unto the world.

Officially, the Fall Guys jelly beans are simply called “Fallen Beans.” Well, unofficially–none of this has been canonized by Wizards of the Coast, although we suspect that’s coming given Fall Guys‘ popularity.

“A diverse and eclectic group of silly, bean-shaped folk, Fallen Beans hail from an unknown world of colorful constructs and massive foodstuffs,” begins the PDF of this new D&D race. Competitive by nature, Beans “compete with each other in a bid to build their wealth in the form of colorful outfits, tokens, and coveted golden crowns.”

Hilariously, “Beans have no names,” and instead just have a random number assigned to them at birth–a reference to the fact that nobody has a name in Fall Guys due to the fact that special characters can cause the game to crash. To generate your Fallen Bean name, just roll four d10s.

Beans have no age, no gender, and almost no face. “Most beans prefer to stand out from the crowd, donning their most eye-catchingly absurd outfits, and even changing the color and pattern of their skin, before going out in public.” They’re capable of cooperation, but will absolutely stab you in the back for material gain. “A victory means everything to a Bean.”

Stat-wise, the Fallen Beans are basically a better Variant Human, with an ability score increase for two stats, a free feat, and advantage on grapple and fear checks. They’re six feet tall, can jump really far, and can’t talk beyond a series of emotive grunts and hoots.

Some playtesting is obviously required to balance these guys out, but who knows? Maybe your next D&D campaign will be a battle royale obstacle course.

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