Terrors of the Dead Lands
3.5
Ashen: An ashen is a defiler that died consumed by life energy kept for too long without discharging. The bliss of life energy coursing through one’s body proves too addictive to some defilers with low self-control. They do not fight the addiction hard, letting it weaken their will until they eventually prefer revelling in the sensation of roaring life energy to shaping it into a spell. Some defilers succumb completely to this temptation, perishing as the unfocused energies consume them from the inside. Others, slain in the process of gathering spell energy, die at the very moments the energy fills them.
Burned corpses of these defilers rise as the walking dead, wielding arcane power and an insatiable appetite for life energy.
Create Undead spell caster level 18.
Blight: Blights are the undead remnants of pixies.
Caller in Darkness of Giustenal, Ghostly Mass of Swirling Silently Screaming Faces, Column of Grayish Energy, Tortured Creature: The caller in darkness of Giustenal is a collection of those who died in the great carnage inflicted upon Giustenal when Dregoth was killed. The souls of the humanoid creatures killed in that bloodbath slowly assembled themselves together to form this tortured creature.
Creeping Claw: Creeping claws are severed hands or feet, animated through necromancy or torn off another undead creature with the Ambulatory Limb ability. An undead with this ability produces a claw two size categories smaller than the creature.
Create Undead spell.
Ambulatory Limbs undead special quality.
Creeping Claw Tiny: ?
Creeping Claw Small: Sekdo can detach a hand or foot as a standard action, the separated part becoming a creeping claw. The claw is size Small.
Creeping Claw Medium: ?
Ioramh: Ioramhs are former servants of powerful masters. When their master died and became undead, the master’s will was strong enough to bring his servants back from the Gray and raise them as undead. Ioramhs are mere shadows of what they once were. They cannot speak or hear and have a limited sense of their environment. The experience of being pulled back against their will from the Gray, has left a permanent mark on their faces.
These creatures were weak-willed servants and henchmen of more powerful beings in life. When their masters rose to undeath, the master’s will prevailed and pulled them back from the Gray to serve in undeath, as they did in life.
Any humanoid slain by a meorty becomes an ioramh 1d4 days after death if it has less than 5 HD.
Any humanoid slain T’lor-Nefer-Shu becomes an ioramh 1d4 days after death if it has less than 5 HD.
Create Undead spell caster level 12.
Krag: A krag is a cleric that died at the hands of the element he most despised. A water cleric dying in the Sea of Silt, for example, may rise as a silt krag; the anguish of dying to a force the cleric spent his life combating is sometimes enough to create a wicked and cruel undead creature.
Scarlet Warden, Undead Scarlet Warden: S’thag zagaths return swiftly from death, rising as scarlet wardens. When they first rise, they are mindless, maddened, and likely to attack fellow lineage-mates or even to strike out at the birthstones themselves. Living s’thag zagaths must perform a complicated ritual on them, amputating their whip-tails and psionically altering their minds. The result is an undead scarlet warden that is obedient to the living s’thag zagaths, with proper, if perfunctory, reverence for the Successor and the birthstones.
Tormented: The tormented are spirits that reside in the Gray. Their origins are unknown, as is as their ability to resist the Gray’s inexplicable pull on dead souls. Some scholars have posited that the tormented are actually part of a greater creature residing in the Gray, but no proof has ever been found. Tormented have little connection to the Material Plane and rarely appear on Athas unless raised by a necromancer.
Create Greater Undead spell caster level 20.
Undissolved Spirit: Undissolved spirits are lingering ghosts of beings killed or otherwise wronged in life.
Dishonored Spirit: Dishonored spirits were once honorable people who broke their code of honor and were cursed with undeath.
Many believe that dishonored spirits are the remnants of holy warriors and paragons of virtue from the Green Age who transgressed a code of honor so strict that they were cursed to an eternity of undeath for their sins.
Undead War Beetle: Undead war beetles are created when the rezhatta beetles of the Great Ivory Plain are hunted down and killed, then reanimated to serve as war machines.
Worm of Bones: A worm of bones is an undead beast created from the bones of other dead beings.
Wraith Athasian: Wraiths are creatures that either voluntarily sought out undeath as a form of immortality or were created by another undead creature.
Create Greater Undead spell caster level 18.
Open the Gray Gate spell.
Zombie Gray: Create Greater Undead spell.
Zombie Lightning: Lightning zombies are a peculiar creation of the Zwuun and the energies of Sorcerer-King Nibenay's fortress, the Naggaramakam.
Zombie Salt: The salt zombie is the result of a humanoid creature dying of thirst on the Great Ivory Plain or other salt flats.
Create Undead spell caster level 15.
Banshee Dwarven: A dwarven banshee is a dwarf that died before completing a major focus. The dwarf’s spirit haunts its life’s work, terrorizing its former friends and all those that still work on the focus.
“Dwarven banshee” is an acquired template that can be added to any dwarf that died unable to complete a major focus.
Banshees are dwarves that died with their focus unfinished. The concept of a focus is so ingrained in dwarven philosophy that if a dwarf dies while his focus is unfinished, he will return to haunt his unfinished work.
Kirahm Mulfather, Dwarf Banshee Fighter 7: Kirahm Mulfather's last focus in life was to guard the cave where his young nephews and cousins were hiding from slavers. Thanks to his notorious attraction to human females, Kirahm was led away from his post and his young kin were sold into slavery. Kirahm spend the rest of his long miserable life trying to track down the slavers and his lost kin, but was only able to recover one of his cousins. He died a broken man in a faraway land, but his spirit, racked with guilt, has returned to the place of his first failure.
Bugdead: ?
Exoskeleton Bugdead, Dread Exoskeleton: Undead insects that have lost more than half of their fleshy body mass become exoskeletons.
“Exoskeleton bugdead” is an acquired template that can be added to any vermin that is insect-like.
An undead insect carries its flesh inside its chitin shell, so its presence or absence is blocked from view. A bugdead that retains at least half of its flesh within its chitin is considered a zombie. Those with most of their flesh rotted away are termed exoskeletons.
Bugdead swarms often eat rotting flesh, consuming zombies found anywhere in the Black Basin. These attacks rarely destroy the undead, for the bugdead simply strip the rancid flesh while leaving bone intact; the
zombies become skeletons (or exoskeletons).
Zombie Bugdead: Undead insect flesh rots and coagulates into a dense, rubbery material that is difficult to hack through or even burn. Zombie bugdead are insects whose flesh remains inside their bodies, decaying to form a thick, rubbery mass.
“Zombie bugdead” is an acquired template that can be added to any vermin that is insect-like.
An undead insect carries its flesh inside its chitin shell, so its presence or absence is blocked from view. A bugdead that retains at least half of its flesh within its chitin is considered a zombie. Those with most of their flesh rotted away are termed exoskeletons.
Bugdead Kank: ?
Exoskeleton Bugdead Domestic Worker Kank: ?
Zombie Bugdead Domestic Soldier Kank: ?
Cursed Dead: Cursed dwarven dead are known to exist in only one place, the Groaning City beneath the ruins of Giustenal, though they may dwell elsewhere. There may also be similar undead of other races, though none have been reported. The cursed dead in the Groaning City were created by a curse spoken by Dread-King Dregoth, after he had led his troops in vanquishing the last dwarven resistance under his city. As the captured dwarves were hanged, Dregoth cursed them, and they remain hideous undead creatures to this day.
“Cursed dead” is an acquired template that can be added to any giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid (though dwarves are the only known cursed dead). The creature must have been cursed at its time of death to rise as undead.
These undead are dwarves that were cursed by the dread king Dregoth for daring to rebel against his invasion. None have been found outside of Giustenal, where Dregoth cursed them into their twisted, unnatural forms.
Smuchog Bob-Neck, Dwarf Cursed Dead, Fighter 10: Smuchog was one of the leaders of the Order of the Lion, the semi-religious brotherhood of dwarves that believed that Taraskir, the last beasthead giant king of Green Age Giustenal, was in fact a god. The Order led the humanoids sheltered in the Groaning City after the aboveground city was taken by Dregoth's troops and made into his capital. When the Ravager discovered them and attacked, Smuchog organized a last, hopeless resistance, and was taken alive by Mon Adderath, Dregoth’s confidant.
Like the other captured survivors of the Order of the Lion, Smuchog was strung up and hanged for the amusement of Dregoth’s troops. The terrible curse Dregoth visited upon them brought Smuchog back in undeath as surely as the rest, but because of his innate resistance or his strength as a believer and leader, Smuchog was able to retain more of his mind and discipline.
Dhaot: A dhaot is an incorporeal undead sometimes created when a creature dies far from its homeland. The compulsion to return home is so strong that it keeps the spirit alive.
“Dhaot” is an acquired template that can be added to any giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid that died far from its homeland and feels a strong compulsion to return home.
A dhaot is an incorporeal creature that died far from its home. The impulse to return home is so strong that it sustains the creature into undeath. When the dhaot returns home, it finds it cannot rest until its remains have also been returned.
Mithia, Human Dhaot Commoner 1, Ghostly Girl, Spirit, Translucent Spirit, Lass: Mithia was captured by bandits six hundred years ago during a raid on the Kurnan oasis that is now named Fort Stench. Eleven years old at the time, Mithia was taken to the bandits’ cave just north of Fort Ral and treated cruelly until she managed to escape the cave by slipping through a crack in the wall. Unfortunately for Mithia, the crack led to a tunnel that gradually narrowed. Considering remaining with the bandits a fate worse than death, Mithia continued down the tunnel until her body became stuck. Fearing to make a sound lest the bandits should hear her, Mithia remained silent, and she died of starvation and thirst within earshot of her captors calling her name and searching for her.
Dune Runner: The dune runner is an elf that died unable to complete his mission. The elf died while running to deliver a message or complete an important task.
An elf that dies under a dune runner’s compulsion gaze becomes a dune runner without missing a step, following the runner as its eternal companion.
“Dune runner” is an acquired template that can be added to any elf that died on an important run, trying to complete a mission for his tribe or someone dear to him.
A dune runner is an elf that died while running to complete a mission or quest. Unable to complete its important task, it rises again as undead, compelled to run one last journey, forever running through the night.
Sothaer, Elf Dune Runner Ranger 3: King’s Ages ago, Sothaer was a messenger in the now-extinct tribe of the Trin Harriers, living in the central Hinterlands north of what is now Lost Scale. Kalak of Tyr made rare forays into the Hinterlands in those days, before eventually concluding that the area was too distant for effective control and not worth the casualties his men suffered trying to repel trin and other attacks. One day, a massive army arrived in the Hinterlands near Sothaer’s clan’s encampment. The chief of the Swift-as-Thought clan, Asdrae, ordered Sothaer to speed across the Hinterlands and gather the tribe’s other clans. If the elves could unite, they could form a strong enough rear guard to protect their escape as they fled the Tyrant’s army; otherwise, Kalak’s forces would hunt down the scattered clans and destroy them utterly.
Sothaer took off across the wastes, seeking the other Trin Harrier clans. He found the encampment of the Chitin Snappers and warned them, but did not linger, instead speeding off into the rock shelves in search of the next clan, the Wind Gliders. He never made it. A band of thri-trin, his tribe’s mortal enemies, ambushed him in the twisting rocks and tore his body limb from limb while he was still alive. Sothaer gasped out his last in the sure knowledge that the Wind Gliders and Chitin Snappers were doomed, and that the other six clans would surely also perish, unwarned, as Kalak’s raiders fanned out across the Hinterlands.
Sothaer rose soon after as a dune runner, his body restored by eldritch means he could not imagine.
Fael: A fael is an undead whose thirst for material possessions and excesses in life fuels its existence.
“Fael” is an acquired template that can be added to any giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid.
Faels are creatures whose gluttony in life was unsurpassed. Their hunger for the excesses they had in life makes them appear anywhere food is present, eating and drinking as much as possible. Most faels come from the upper echelons of Athasian society, and are usually elves or humans.
Fortrumpp, Human Fael Rogue 8, Terrifying Monster: Fortrumpp spent most of his life as a dissolute noble in Nibenay. His family predated the arrival of the famous Champion, and held rights not only to several hot springs but also to numerous caves in the cliffs north of the city. Fortrumpp originally fancied himself a merchant, gaining fame and fortune to win his stingy father’s praise. But his father, Kalnrar, forbade Fortrumpp from such a demeaning pursuit, and instead the young noble was made a resident supervisor on the family’s sharecropped holdings outside the city.
Here, isolated from his father, young Fortrumpp again sought to realize his dream. He transformed the family manor into a caravan area, bringing the merchants to him, as he could not go to them. He learned much from them: of the vagaries of trade, of the wide lands of other cities, of the Dragon and his predations. From these last stories came Fortrumpp’s own inspiration. He too would be a Dragon, in his own small way. As the Dragon consumed the lives of slaves in all the cities, so Fortrumpp would consume the lives of the slaves on his property.
Month by month, Fortrumpp’s excesses grew greater. He wore out the slaves on his fields providing for his luxuries and lusts, selling the broken remnants of these once loyal men to finance yet more debauchery. Merchants began to spread tales of the young noble’s grand events, such that even Fortrumpp’s father heard them. His rage at seeing his son cavorting with traders knew no bounds. Kalnrar had his son divested of his sinecure, savagely punished, and banished to one of the family’s caves in the cliffs. He had other sons, worthier ones, and soon forgot about the young man he had sealed in the cave.
But Fortrumpp did not forget. He died soon enough of starvation and dehydration, but he did not forget. He rose into undeath as a fael, a terrifying monster lusting after the food and pleasure to which it was used in life.
Fallen, Dark Legionnaire: Fallen are the spirits of dead warriors who died unjustly, were sacrificed in battle, or who have been created by other fallen. The disaster that created the Dead Lands also spawned hordes of such undead, many of whom served under the Champions of Rajaat.
“Fallen” is an acquired template that can be added to any giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid.
A giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid slain by a fallen’s death knell power rises as fallen after 1d4 rounds.
A giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid slain by Reklez’s death knell power rises as fallen after 1d4 rounds.
These are warriors who died unjustly, returning as angry spirits able to take corporeal form and fight, lusting for battle: the only passion they have left.
Reklez, Human Fighter 11 Fallen: Sergeant-commander Reklez was in the morgue when the Dark Tide struck. He had been serving in the personal guard of Sthonkho, one of Gretch’s minions, at Charnalhouse, the necromancer’s outpost on the site of the Battle of Tforkatch River. Gretch had built the fort soon after the battle, using it as a factory to reanimate corpses harvested from the battlefield, and later as a warehouse for corpses brought back from the siege of Nagarvos. Sthonkho preferred having living guards monitor the labors of the dead, and Reklez had found the pay better and the duty easier than serving with any of the Champions.
Reklez’s skills had led him to promotions and increased responsibility, which was why he was at the forefront of the melee when the guards were called to quell a disturbance in Barracks 2. A thinking zombie had somehow gotten in with the usual crowd of zombie laborers and was leading them in a riot. Reklez waded in, proud of his combat skills and determined to show Sthonkho’s new recruits that zombies were nothing to be feared. He killed a dozen zombies, but the recruits hadn’t followed, and the lone sergeant-commander was overborne by the undead. He thought he’d slain their leader, just before he himself was killed by the press of sallow-faced zombies.
When Charnalhouse’s other sergeants finally marshaled the recalcitrant recruits and led them into Barracks 2, they found Reklez’s body, torn and trampled. Knowing that Sthonkho would surely want the corpse reanimated, they placed him in the morgue along with the salvageable remains of as many of the slain zombies as could be feasibly reanimated. The sergeant-commander was still there, lying on a stone slab, when the obsidian flooded from the east. Charnalhouse’s watchman clanged the alarm, but the steaming, shining wave burst over the walls before the guards could even form up on the parade ground. The troops were scattered, boiled or burned or drowned, and borne under the obsidian, never to return.
Kaisharga: They voluntarily embraced this existence through a complicated ritual in order to prolong their life and increase their power. They come from all classes: fighters, wizards, gladiators, psions, and even evil clerics.
The defiler becoming or creating a kaisharga must be able to cast 8th-level arcane spells.
“Kaisharga” is an acquired template that can be added to any humanoid of at least 15th level (referred to hereafter as the base creature), provided it can complete the transformation.
Becoming a Kaisharga
To become a kaisharga, one must simply eat a fruit. It sounds easy, but the fruit must come from a tree of death that has been specially tended for this purpose. To become a kaisharga, a character must be 15th level, and a wizard must complete the following transformation ritual.
When a wizard transforms another character into a kaisharga, the wizard controls the undead unconditionally—there is no chance to resist on the kaisharga’s part. The Dragon used this process to create his kaishargas.
Preparation
For a tree of death to bear fruit, it must meet special requirements. The tree must be no more than three days old when the wizard begins preparing it, and the wizard should take care to protect the tree from extraneous spellcasting, for it is vulnerable to defiling. The tree must receive eight hours of sunlight per day, so the wizard’s chamber must permit the sun’s rays to enter. Finally, the tree must be tended for 101 days and watered with a special mixture.
The mixture contains the prospective kaisharga’s blood, water from the central fountain in Bodach, a flawless obsidian orb crushed into powder, and the ashes of a preserver of at least 15th level. (One preserver’s ashes and one orb are enough for 101 days. The orb costs 1,000 Cp.)
The Transformation
After 101 days, the wizard tending the tree of death may conduct the transformation ritual. The wizard must cast open the Gray gate to open a portal overlapping the tree. A permanency spell anchors the gate to the tree and prevents it from moving randomly about. The gate provides the tree a steady supply of negative energy to draw upon for the creation of a single fruit.
After 1d4 minutes, a single, beautiful jet-black fruit grows from the tree. While the pear-shaped fruit looks and smells very appetizing before its skin has been broken, it is beyond terrible in taste and smell once bitten into.
When the fruit is plucked from the tree, the gate to the Gray is rent open, flooding the area with a tremendous amount of negative energy visible as tendrils of gray fog whipping about in a tempestuous sirocco. The act of picking the fruit tears open the portal to the Gray and dispels any abjurations cast on the portal, such as dimensional lock. The possibility again exists that spirits from the Gray will seek to use it to enter the Material Plane. A prudent wizard will cast dimensional lock to protect himself a second time.
When the prospective kaisharga eats the fruit, he becomes the focus of this energy, drawing in such power as to nearly defy the mind. He must make a Fortitude save (DC 20) or be killed; his dying body eradicated by the incredible forces coursing it. The caster of open the Gray gate must concentrate to will the energy into the transforming character over a period of 1 minute. If he breaks concentration during this time, he may attempt the ritual again, but the subject must save again.
After the character absorbs the negative energy, he becomes a kaisharga, but is extremely weakened by the transformation. The kaisharga’s current hit points total 1 per Hit Die, but it regains hit points normally.
The gate closes when open the Gray gate ends, irrevocably slaying the tree of death.
Hazards
When casting open the Gray gate, the wizard is advised to secure it with the dimensional lock spell. Otherwise, while the tree still draws energy through the portal and grows the fruit as required, the wizard has no assurance that entities from the Gray will not use the portal to enter Athas. Also, the spell has its normal effect on corpses within its area.
Consuming even a piece of the tree of death’s fruit not watered by one’s own blood likely proves deadly to most creatures, for it is deadly poison to all but the prospective kaisharga. However, if another humanoid survives eating the fruit and the other complications of the ritual, it can become a kaisharga, despite the fruit being intended for another.
With the notable exceptions of kaishargas, morgs and t’lizes, who seek out undeath as a means of immortality, most corporeal undead linger in life for a special purpose or to serve a special duty.
They are creatures that voluntarily chose undeath, believing it to be a form of immortality.
The tree of death represents the most significant requirement for kaisharga transformation, and the mixture used for watering it contains several rare ingredients. In the interest of saving time, some DMs may hand-wave the requirement of “water from the central fountain in Bodach,” while some may find that too easy. To make kaisharga particularly rare, introduce more steps in the tree of death creation; perhaps the sapling must grow from a seed of the Seventh Tree of the Dead Lands—a tree the Dead Lands’ inhabitants are not even aware exists!
They are creatures that voluntarily chose undeath, believing it to be a form of immortality.
Three types of undead creatures are different from the rest: the t’liz, the kaisharga, and the morg. Such warped beings voluntarily sought undeath, believing it a form of immortality.
A morg is a powerful undead similar to a kaisharga or t’liz but with one critical difference: a morg cannot bring himself into the eternity of undeath.
A specially grown tree of death is required for the creation of a kaisharga.
A defiler preparing for transformation into a kaisharga has a special method of bringing the tree to bloom. A tree of death grows a single black, pear-shaped fruit that, while it looks and smells appetizing, contains a poison. To any but the prospective kaisharga, eating a piece of the fruit may prove lethal.
Especially since the development of spells to create kaishargas, in which the kaisharga’s loyalty can be magically guaranteed, fewer morgs have been created.
Asura, Human Kaisharga Wizard 15, Gaunt Wasted Humanoid: Asura labored long and hard to procure the spells and procedures for cheating death, and when she found those secrets, she studied them with a fierce single-mindedness. When Asura finally deciphered the rituals for extending her life beyond death, she immediately embarked upon that dark, twisted path. After many more years of small successes and numerous failures, Asura finally realized her quest to become immortal—she became a kaisharga.
Asura watched the sun rise over the horizon from the mouth of the cave. The air was still cold from the night, but the sun’s rays were already beginning to warm it. He watched in satisfaction as the sun finally crested the hills at the end of the plateau and became fully visible. Today was the day of immortality. After 1,001 days, the fruit he had been growing inside his cave was finally ready. He had spent many years researching the correct technique to achieve everlasting life, had murdered countless people, and had razed so many fields he could no longer count them. Not that he cared. Today he would achieve the ultimate victory; today he would become a kaisharga.
Taking one last look at the sun, Asura turned and slowly walked inside the cave. The cave was warm and slightly humid, and a hole in the ceiling let in the sun’s rays. And growing in the center of the cavern was his tree. It stood eight feet tall, with gray-green leaves on its branches. Its roots were gnarled and twisted, as if cramped with arthritis. The trunk was the color of ash, and its branches seemed to pulse with a grayish fluid beneath the bark. And growing on one branch was a single fruit, its perfect black surface reflecting an almost blinding beam of sunlight.
Asura walked toward the tree and carefully grasped the fruit in his strong hands, being careful not to pluck it from the tree. Not yet. He had a few precautions to take before he could eat this forbidden morsel. Asura slowly walked around the cavern, checking the spells he had cast the preceding night. The casting of these protection spells had tired him, but he was a strong man. Anyone looking at him might have thought him a short mul. He was finely muscled and walked with a strong gait, his face smooth as marble and just as cold. The sunlight reflecting from the fruit failed to warm his features in any way.
Asura had come from a noble family and was handsome enough to have any woman he desired, but the lure of defiling, the rush of magical power, had been all the young man ever needed. Now, to gain the greatest power of all, Asura had embarked on the path to undeath. Soon, even death could not touch him.
The process was nearly complete. When Asura finished checking his spells, he looked outside the cave to see the sun nearly at its zenith. It was time. Asura grasped the fruit in his hand, and, with a mighty pull, jerked it off the tree.
A loud ripping sound filled the air. Gray fog drifted up from the tree’s roots, gathering into a small cyclone of growing proportions. The air suddenly chilled, changing from hot to cold in an instant. Knowing he did not have much time, Asura took a bite from the fruit. It tasted terrible, but Asura forced himself to swallow its putrid flesh. As soon as he took a bite, the wind and fog increased, lifting him off the ground. Held ten feet in the air by the cyclonic winds now whipping around the cave, Asura took another bite and nearly gagged on his own vomit as his body tried to reject the cursed fruit. With extreme will, he forced the pulp down his throat. The winds held him steady, and now small gray tendrils of fog wrapped around his body. The fog was bone-numbingly cold and pulsing with energy. Asura’s body convulsed as it absorbed the energy being forced into him. The wind tore at him, and Asura heard a popping sound as his shoulder was pulled from its socket.
Then pain erupted from his stomach. Asura felt the sting of the fruit’s bitter acids as they slowly dissolved his innards. The pain grew unbearable; the wizard’s mind could scarcely encompass the torment inside and out, and he knew that he had to regain control of himself or go mad. Asura tried to move, but the wind and fog still held him in place. His fists were clenched at his sides, veins bulging along his arms. His head was thrown back, mouth open and tongue sticking out. Now that he had eaten the fruit, Asura could scream. His shrieks of terror and pain filled the cavern with a resonant discord, breaking even over the howling of the wind. The fog passed through his body and mind, spewing forth from his open mouth in a torrent of gray power.
As suddenly as it had begun, the wind ceased. Asura dropped unceremoniously to the floor, his body still convulsing from the energy coursing through it. Knowing he had not quite finished the ritual, Asura rose to his feet. He had to close the gate to the Gray, or its energy would destroy him forever. He looked toward the gate with eyes aglow with a sickly green and dispelled the magic keeping the portal open. Grabbing the necessary components from an alcove, Asura began the chant to close the gate. Just as he was about to finish, a loud wail echoed from the gate. Asura stopped chanting just as a streak of gray emerged from the portal and bowled him over. The spirit flew toward the cave mouth, stopping suddenly as it struck an invisible barrier. As Asura rose, a cold smile appeared on his dead lips. He dropped the spell components as the spirit cried in fear. Asura pointed a finger at it and spoke one word and a beam of light leapt from his fingertip to strike the spirit. It screamed in ear-shattering agony as the light consumed it in a puff of gray smoke.
Asura dropped to his knees as a wave of agony coursed through his body. He was much weaker than he had expected and needed to finish closing the gate before another spirit ventured through. With the last of his energy, he managed to spit out the words of sealing, and as exhaustion and pain finally claimed his body, he watched in satisfaction as the portal to the Gray collapsed. He had done it…
Kragling: A kragling is an undead creature created by a krag’s elemental infusion. The humanoid or animal rises as a skeleton under the krag’s control. Kraglings share the same elemental bond as the krag that spawned them, and their appearance reflects this link. For example, creatures killed by a silt krag rise as skeletons with dried, grayish bones, while a water krag’s victims appear as moldy, fungus-ridden skeletons.
“Kragling” is an acquired template that can be added to any corporeal animal, humanoid, giant, magical beast, or monstrous humanoid size Huge or smaller that has a skeletal system.
Any animal, humanoid, giant, magical beast, or monstrous humanoid slain by a krag’s elemental infusion has a 50% change of rising as a kragling after 1d4 days.
A skeleton-like creature created by a krag’s elemental infusion. Kraglings share the same elemental bond as the krag that spawned them, and their appearance reflects this link.
Mul Kragling Warrior 2, Mul Warrior Fire Kragling: ?
Meorty: Meorties were created in ancient, complex rituals whose knowledge has been lost to the ages. All meorties were created over 2000 years ago.
“Meorty” is an acquired template that can be added to any humanoid of a race alive in ancient times.
In the Green Age, knowledge of creating meorty guardians was a closely hidden secret. Only the most important leaders of cities possessed the knowledge to bring such powerful beings into existence, and only did so with reluctance and great care.
Guardians of crypts and ancient burial grounds are meorties, beings buried in tombs to protect their domains. They strictly uphold ancient laws and hunt down any who would violate their domain.
Meorties often were deliberately created to serve as enforcers of Green Age legal and social structures. The codes with which the meorty was originally programmed, remain with it for the duration of its undeath, and may offer knowledgeable individuals a means to manipulate it.
T'lor-Nefer-Shu, Psion Telepath 10/Cleric 6, Undead Guardian: In the Green Age, knowledge of creating meorty guardians was a closely hidden secret. Only the most important leaders of cities possessed the knowledge to bring such powerful beings into existence, and only did so with reluctance and great care. The priest-kings of Tar-elon first gained knowledge of the rituals during T’lor-Nefer-Shu’s declining years. The rulers considered carefully whether they should create such a guardian, but when one of their number prophesied coming doom, the decision was made: T’lor-Nefer-Shu was summoned to the palace, and there, amid the forest of columns, the kings made their request of him.
For more than a month, T’lor-Nefer-Shu wrestled with his decision. His young wife, An-Lotis, advised him to accept, preferring to see her husband transformed to watching his health and skills decline with age, and T’lor-Nefer-Shu took her recommendation. The rituals were performed with the utmost secrecy, and T’lor-Nefer-Shu soon took his place as Tar-elon’s first and only meorty.
Morg: A morg is a powerful undead similar to a kaisharga or t’liz but with one critical difference: a morg cannot bring himself into the eternity of undeath. The process of creating a morg is extremely complex and requires that the subject be dead before it commences. The lore of creating morgs was developed by Gretch and passed by Rajaat to his Champions during the wars. Kalid-Ma then further improved the spells. How many others know the secret is unknown, but certainly very few.
Morgs’ desiccated, near-mummified features and brown-gray pallor mark them as noticeably dead. Their bodies often appear emaciated but not skeletal, for the mummification process leeches most of the liquids from the body, replacing them with spiced unguents and balms. The result is a smooth-skinned, sweet-smelling corpse, with flesh tight but not shriveled around the bones. Unlike t’lizes, which must constantly anoint their corpses with oils, morgs’ bodies are preserved fully during the initial mummification and require no further application of unguents or balms.
Morgs are created only rarely by the sorcerer-kings, the process being most often perceived as a gift bestowed on servants of great power and unquestioned loyalty. Especially since the development of spells to create kaishargas, in which the kaisharga’s loyalty can be magically guaranteed, fewer morgs have been created.
The process of creating a morg involves a considerable amount of time and effort. The unguents that initially preserve a morg’s body require very expensive materials.
“Morg” is an acquired template that can be added to any humanoid (referred to hereafter as the base creature), provided it has a powerful patron who can perform the preservation rituals of morg creation.
Becoming a Morg
To become a morg, all one has to do is die—something countless slaves do every day in every city of Athas. But the effort of transforming a corpse into a morg begins a year before the morg’s death and is supervised at every stage by a mentor, most often a sorcerer-king. The mentor often refers to the transformation as “morgbirth.” The mentor must be a wizard of at least 15th level, his subject a humanoid of at least 10th level.
Preparation
The prospective morg must go on a strict regimen, eating little save dried fruits and meats, and purging his body with venomous teas brewed from his own blood. A month before morgbirth, the candidate begins to fast, though he continues to yield blood for use in preparing a special unguent. Two days before morgbirth, he not only eats nothing but drinks nothing as well. One day before morgbirth, the mentor casts hypnotism to focus the candidate’s psyche, ensuring that it will not follow his life-force to the Gray when he dies.
The mentor must also create a birth chamber to house the ritual of morgbirth. The birth chamber must be built of stone, its interior walls faced with obsidian at least an inch thick. In the center of the room is a plain stone table, long and wide enough for the corpse of the morg. Inscriptions related must be carved into the underside of the table, at precisely the points where the candidate’s head, heart, and hands will be laid. One wall, usually opposite the entrance, is marked with the runic symbols, the “mandala,” required for morgbirth. The birthing chamber with rune-carved table and mandala costs no less than 3,500 Cp.
In addition, the mentor must prepare hundreds of yards of linen cloth, thickly saturated with the morg unguent to produce a magical wrapping. On the day of morgbirth, the candidate enters the prepared birth chamber and is bound in the linen wrapping and left to die. It takes about an hour.
Morg Wrapping: An important piece of the morg-birth transformation, this wrapping consists of hundreds of yards of linen cloth saturated with a syrupy unguent. Upon being bound within these wrappings, a living creature quickly dehydrates, its fluids replaced by the foul unguent. Entwining a creature in the wrapping requires 10 minutes, during which time the creature must be either willing or helpless. Beginning with the first minute of wrapping, the creature suffers a cumulative 1d6 points of damage per minute of exposure (2d6 the second minute, 3d6 the third, and so on). The damage continues until the wrapped creature dies, its body completely dehydrated and suffused by the unguent. If the creature was the one whose blood was mixed in the unguent (see below), the body can now receive the Gray energy necessary for transformation into a morg.
The morg wrapping unguent is composed of the following ingredients (included in the price): a vial of the prospective morg's blood, the remains of a silt paraelemental, juice and pulp from the crushed fruit of a brain seed, the twice-boiled flesh of a white silt horror (rendered into a gel), the ashes of at least two mature t'chowbs, several pounds of costly spices, and a flawless obsidian orb, which must be crushed into powder and sprinkled into the mixture.
Strong necromancy; CL 15th; Craft Wondrous Item, horrid wilting, creator must have 12 ranks in the Knowledge (nature) skill; Price 5,000 Cp.
The Transformation
The morg candidate is bound tightly in the morg wrapping, and swiftly—it takes only moments for the foul balm to begin eating into the candidate’s flesh. Before this happens, the mentor straps the candidate to the stone table, ensuring that the subject is positioned over the inscriptions carved into the underside of the table. For the next hour, the mentor focuses on ensuring that his wards are complete; beyond that, he watches the candidate struggle against his bonds as the poisonous unguent consumes the last fluids from his body. These fluids boil off, creating a hideous stench, and the candidate dies in excruciating pain from massive system shock as the deadly unguent settles into the body.
The mentor ensures that the candidate has died, his spirit gone to the Gray. He then casts open the Gray gate around the mandala. As the last words are spoken, the symbols on the wall burst into an eerie and unfocused light, and suddenly the wall erupts in roiling waves of what looks like thick gray liquid. Negative energy floods through the gate, swirling around the birth chamber, lapping at the feet of the table and wizard. Gray wisps rise from the undulating mass on the floor, curling around the prepared corpse.
The mentor then concentrates, calling to mind the symbols inscribed on the underside of the table. He must force the Gray energy into the corpse while the gate remains open. Focusing the energy requires a Concentration check each minute (DC 15 + 1 per previous check) for 15 minutes. Failing a check ruins the transformation ritual.
As the mentor concentrates, the flood of negative energy soon fills the room to the ceiling. Motion becomes difficult as the Gray energy forms an ever-thickening fog, blinding the caster and forcing him to plant his hands on the morg’s corpse to complete the ritual. The unguent in the morg wrapping burns the caster’s bare hands, dealing 1d6 points of damage per minute.
When the chant ends, so does open the Gray gate, violently snapping shut and sucking up incorporeal undead and physical creatures and objects in a fierce wind. The straps holding the morg body in place are designed for the mentor to hold on as well; he and any other creatures in the chamber must make a Strength check (DC 15) or be sucked into the Gray.
When the gate is sealed, the mentor uses the last and freshest of the morg candidate’s blood to bathe the revivifying corpse. At the touch of the blood, the unguent-laden linens age in an instant into mere tatters which are easily removed, and the morg, born in a bath of his own blood, rises from morgbirth to meet his maker.
Hazards
During the time that the Gray gate remains open, there is a chance that the massive expenditure of energy from the Gray catches the attention of a powerful undead spirit seeking escape from the Gray. If an undead creature with the possession ability slips through the gate, it seeks the morg’s body for possession. If successful, the results are catastrophic—the morgbirth succeeds, but the creature born is a hideous amalgam of the personality of the morg candidate and that of the possessing spirit, the resultant being’s powers far greater than those of a simple morg. Such an abomination is described on a tablet in the ruined royal library of Yaramuke, but no such creature is actually known to exist on Athas today. To create such a creature, apply the morg template to a corporeal version of the undead; it cannot regain incorporeal form.
If spirits from the Gray escape the gate, they swirl through the birth chamber, lustfully seeking to possess the morg’s corpse or the caster’s living body. The mentor cannot stop to battle the spirits, nor can he close the gate without ending the morg’s reanimation. For this reason, the mentor should ensure in advance that his wards are sufficient. A dimensional lock spell prevents spirits from entering from the Gray, and protection from evil and similar spells bar a mind against possession.
With the notable exceptions of kaishargas, morgs and t’lizes, who seek out undeath as a means of immortality, most corporeal undead linger in life for a special purpose or to serve a special duty.
A morg is a powerful, free-willed undead usually created by a Sorcerer-King or being of similar power. The morg-birth is usually a reward for years of service—a means to extend the life of a favorite general or bodyguard to serve beyond his normal lifespan.
Three types of undead creatures are different from the rest: the t’liz, the kaisharga, and the morg. Such warped beings voluntarily sought undeath, believing it a form of immortality.
Morg and T’liz: These two transformations demand less time and expense, but each involves the creation of a magic item from unusual ingredients. On one hand, most components in a morg wrapping or t’liz oil cost no additional ceramic pieces, so a DM can assume the item’s creation includes finding or purchasing the odd ingredients. Alternatively, the creator may have to spend adventuring time hunting down the rare flower of the rock cactus, which blooms only once a year.
Sekdo Azeg, Human Morg Fighter 14, Poisoned Carcass: In life, Sekdo Azeg was a war-chief of the armies of the Neksos, one of Rajaat’s Champions. During the period when Sekdo lived, the Neksos was trying to improve the discipline and focus of his troops, so names were discouraged and ranks used instead. Azeg was known as Sekdo—“Commander of the First Thousand”—for most of his adult life. Sekdo was one of his master’s most loyal and successful commanders, leading assaults on some of the most inaccessible dwarf-holds of the southern Tablelands. He personally slew the Stone-King of Knorhay, charging far ahead of the main body to hunt down the fleeing dwarven host and its commander.
As he grew older, Sekdo feared that he would be cast aside like so many of his peers, abandoned by the Neksos once his energetic years were over. He petitioned to receive the gift of morgbirth, hoping to renew the strength of his youth and ensure his place of honor by his master’s side for eternity.
From the rooftop terrace he surveyed his city. The good people of the city, his subjects, served him faithfully, if fearfully. He liked it that way. Stone cities, however rough-hewn, were a luxury in these times, when wars yet raged, but his people needed to recover, to produce a new generation of warriors, before the next wave of cleansing could begin. With such amenities he bought their loyalty—some more loyal than others, mused the king, a toothy smile playing across his features. And one of those most loyal would receive a great gift this day.
Below his roof, the warlord, the Neksos of the people, strode like a god. Perhaps he was a god, a god of death as the little people thought when his armies hunted them. He smiled at that, at the power he wielded, as he stalked through the cool semi-darkness, entering deeper chambers carved from the stone at the roots of the hill. Yet another reason to build, even in these times of war—such gifts as he bestowed today could not be granted in some tent or ramshackle hovel. The sorcery required stone, well-sealed and warded, and that took time. It was worth it, even if the chamber could only be used once.
The tunnel led to a heavy stone portal opening upward. Without effort the Neksos lifted the heavy door, testing it for weight and balance—it must seal perfectly when the birth pangs begin, the sheet of obsidian covering it falling flush with the obsidian floor, walls, and ceiling. A table, gray and grainy, deliberately unfinished and unpolished, stood empty in the center of the room. The Neksos knelt and ran his clawed fingers along the precise grooves of each inscription on the underside of the table, once again assuring himself that they were perfectly carved and correctly positioned. When Sekdo lay on the table, he would rise from it reborn.
Aside from the table only two other surfaces in the room lacked the shine of obsidian. The sun-shaped, almost flowerlike symbol on the far wall was carved through the obsidian sheeting and into the gray basalt wall behind. Less elegant was the rectangular stone basin off to one side. The Neksos stepped over to it, sniffing the salty mass within. The unguent smelled right and was the right color—the linens should be ripe.
It was what only he could see that most interested the Neksos. His eyes slowly traced their way around the room, searching for the dweomers he had placed there, the wards against the dead spirits of the Gray. He knew his protective spells to be strong, for had he not renewed them this very dawn? But the chamber must be secure, lest some spirit flee past him in the gloom, seeking new life in the bosom of one of his warriors. Carefully, the warlord checked every corner, satisfying himself that the birth chamber was whole and ready to witness his act of creation.
COME! The Neksos's voice echoed not through the palace above but in the minds of his chosen minions. The servants would hasten to him, eager to please him despite being terrified of their task. Sekdo too would arrive swiftly, ready to be reborn.
The servants, frightened whelps, taken captive at the last human town they had passed, did indeed appear first. The Neksos curtly gestured for them to place the heavy sealed cask they bore next to the entrance, just outside the portal. They set it down, grateful to be rid of it, and then stood stiffly aside as Sekdo staggered down the hall. The man who had been the army’s great war-chieftain, loyal servant to the Neksos, came to receive his reward. Sekdo was gaunt and haggard, his belly sunken from two days without food or drink. His face was pale from his being bled this morning.
Ever proud, Sekdo breathed deeply and knelt before his warlord. His eyes never left those of the Neksos, even as his knees bent. “Your loyal servant,” he rasped, willing his body to obey him, knowing it would soon feel a new strength greater than he had ever possessed in the mightiest days of his youth.
Silently willing the servants to neither see nor hear, the Neksos smiled down on his favored war-chief and said, “What do you seek, my servant?”
“The strength of the new birth, the new life of endless years, serving the cause,” hissed Sekdo, his eyes bright with lust. Truly he did want to regain the strength and power of his youth.
“How shall you serve me better?” growled the Neksos, looking down expectantly.
“Grant me the purity of the new birth, that I may live forever!”
“As we purify the world through death, so shall you be purified.” The words were irrevocable, like the clang of a steel gate.
“Cleanse me, that I may serve you always,” groaned Sekdo, forcing himself to speak the words.
“Stand. Your wish is granted.” The Neksos grinned, knowing he had chosen well. Sekdo would indeed serve him faithfully through uncounted ages. He released the servants, instructing them through the Way.
Sekdo stood before his master, shrugging off his simple tunic as the servants pulled it away. He breathed deeply, suddenly afraid as they pulled the large vat of foul-smelling linens over to him. The servants reached into the vat, their hands hissing as they drew forth the first heavy linen strip, dripping with mingled whitish and red ooze. He recognized his own fear, having seen it in the eyes of countless enemies, foes that knew they had reached the end of their lives.
The first linen slapped against him, a servant twisting up and around his leg. Another servant applied a reeking strip of cloth to the other. Sekdo steeled himself. He would live forever! His body held rigid as the servants wrapped his legs thoroughly, then began working up his torso. They moved quickly but precisely, under the mental command of the Neksos. Then a burning began, as if the cloth were on fire and was crisping his skin beneath its cool embrace. He tried not to move but could not control his body. A foot shook, then the other, trembling as if trying to shrug off the clammy linen.
The Neksos smiled. Yes, it was time for the pain to begin. Sekdo resisted, but he would fail just like all the others. The Neksos could use the Way to control his body, to make it easier for him and the servants, but it entertained him to merely watch. He would intervene if he had to, but for now he simply ordered the servants to hurry. They had already reached the chest.
Sekdo began to thrash, fitfully at first, fighting for control. The pain was spreading. His flesh was rancid, turning hot and hideous beneath the wrappings. He could feel his life leeching away and smell some terrible stench—the stench of his death. His struggles became desperate; he screamed and tried to throw himself to the floor, to escape the heavy wet cloth that somehow brought such fiery pain. But his body stayed upright, held by the Neksos's mind, as the servants wound linen around his neck. They ignored his screams as they bundled his head.
The Neksos could see the servants would need help, so he used the Way to lift Sekdo's tightly bound body onto the stone table. Positioning it just so, aligning the head, heart, and hands, above the incised marks on the underside of the table. He ordered the servants to hold the cocooned body in place as he himself pulled out the particularly thick cloth strips and tied Sekdo to the table.
The noxious unguent on the linen burned his hands, but he cleansed them with a thought. The servants, though, were beyond use—their hands were now just stumps, smoking fitfully. The Neksos directed them out to the tembo pit.
Sekdo could no longer move, but his screams rent the air. The Neksos had heard them before. He heaved the steaming vat of unused linen outside and waited. Sekdo screamed on and on as his body was boiled from the inside out. Hissing flumes of steam rose here and there from the wrappings, the sweet smell of death. The Neksos watched clinically and again glanced over the room’s wards. He waited until the last spasms and desperate gasps of pain were over, then stepped forward and prodded the corpse with the Way.
The ritual had been perfect. Sekdo was dead, his life force never to return, but his mind remained trapped in the lifeless husk. The Neksos permitted himself a moment’s amusement, letting his mind tease the terrified intellect of his deluded, helpless war-chief. The man’s mind was in unutterable pain, still feeling the death-pangs that had wracked his body and aghast as he realized that his living mind was trapped in a desecrated corpse. The foul unguent that killed him, now filled his body completely.
The Neksos turned and carefully closed the portal, checking the seal once, then twice. It must be done quickly, while the corpse was still fresh. He began the Graybirth incantation that Rajaat had taught him. On the far wall, the flowerlike runes flickered to life, glowing with an uneven, pallid light. The intense light filled the black room, brightening as the Neksos chanted faster and more urgently. As he reached the final words of the first colophon, he swept his hands down and eyed the runic symbol. The symbol appeared to liquefy, bulging until it burst open, the inscription lost behind a flash of swirling gray fog. The fog plunged to the floor, rocking up off the obsidian in a swiftly moving wave and lapping against the Neksos’s feet. He shuddered as the grim darkness of the Gray touched him, but breathed calmly when he felt his wards shield him. The gloomy fog oozed up his leg and across the table. Foggy tendrils whirled up from the rising flood on the floor, reaching for the engraved symbols under the table and curling around to caress Sekdo’s corpse.
The Neksos resumed his chant with the second colophon, rhythmically forcing the waves of gray fog to enter the corpse. The fog thickened until the Neksos had to wade through it to reach the table. His wards were holding, but he knew the true test was coming; the Gray rift he made would soon attract the spirits. The Gray energy was too thick to see through, so he placed his hands on Sekdo’s corpse, channeling the waves into the body.
There! The Neksos felt the spirit more than saw it, sensed its grasping hunger for his warm, living flesh. His defenses held, freeing him to force more energy into the lifeless remains of Sekdo. He raised his voice in the Graybirth chant, feeling the poisonous unguents of the linen wrappings burn his hands. He could not prevent the burning and make the spell work, so he bore the pain.
Another spirit brushed against him, caressing his back with languorous arms, reaching seeking fingers into his defenses. He’d never felt two come through at once! The cold touch of death ran through the Neksos like a shock, forcing him to concentrate to keep up the rhythm. So long as he maintained the chant and his wards held, the spirits could claim neither him nor Sekdo, nor could they escape the birth chamber.
The corpse trembled beneath the Neksos’s hands. Without skipping a beat, he shifted to the spell’s third and final colophon, knowing that Sekdo had been filled with Gray energy. The spirits screamed in agony and hatred, feeling the portal to the Gray reverse its pull and force them from the birth chamber.
Suddenly, the flow of energy back into the Gray became a torrent. The Neksos grasped desperately at the straps holding Sekdo’s body in place, holding on as the whipping wind sucked him up, lifting his feet up to the runic gate. First one spirit, then both, grasped him desperately, their insubstantial fingers somehow stronger and more real as the Gray energy flowed around them. The spirits tried to pull him into the Gray with them! One of the straps frayed as he screamed out the last words of the incantation. The spirits’ wails mingled with his own before the gate suddenly snapped shut like a kes’trekel’s beak.
The Neksos crashed to the floor and lay there a moment. He had never felt such a strong pull to the Gray before. Breathing heavily, he limped to the sealed door. With a last look around, he lifted the obsidian-faced portal, reaching for the cask the servants had left there. It was still warm. Leaving the door open, the warlord limped back to the table, where Sekdo’s corpse was shaking uncontrollably but still tightly bound. The Neksos ripped the stone lid off the cask, hearing it shatter on the floor. He splashed the hot blood—Sekdo's own blood harvested just this morning—over the shuddering corpse. With a gout of foul-smelling steam, the linens disintegrated, aging in an instant into discolored tatters. Incoherent sounds rattled in Sekdo’s throat as his mind suddenly discovered that his body held life. The war-chief’s eyes flashed open, and he struggled to sit up. The Neksos tossed the empty cask aside, stepping back. The poisoned carcass fell back, befouled with its own blood and gibbering wildly. A morg was born.
Namech: Namechs are creatures that were tricked or coerced into undeath by more powerful undead.
“Namech” is an acquired template that can be added to any giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid.
A humanoid reduced to 0 Constitution by scarlet warden poison dies but continues to breathe shallowly as if alive. After 1d6 days, the corpse rises as a namech under the scarlet warden’s command.
A humanoid reduced to 0 Constitution by scarlet warden poison dies but continues to breathe shallowly as if alive. After 1d6 days, the corpse rises as a namech under the scarlet warden’s command.
Any humanoid slain [by] T’lor-Nefer-Shu becomes an ioramh 1d4 days after death if it has less than 5 HD. If it has 5 HD or more, it becomes a namech.
Any humanoid slain by a meorty becomes an ioramh 1d4 days after death if it has less than 5 HD. If it has 5 HD or more, it becomes a namech.
Any humanoid slain by a morg’s energy drain becomes a namech 1d4 days after death.
Pru-harta can perform a short ritual over a helpless humanoid as a full-round action. The ritual involves a coup de grace, and if the creature dies, it rises after 48 hours as a namech under her control.
Any humanoid slain by Daaharum’s energy drain becomes a namech 1d4 days after death.
Any humanoid slain by a t’liz’s energy drain becomes a namech 1d4 days after death.
These creatures are the victims of more powerful intelligent undead such as meorties, wraiths, zhens, or raaigs. Namechs have either by coercion or trickery agreed to serve their undead master in exchange for eternal undeath.
Create Spawn undead special quality.
Pad'runas, Half-Elf Namech Rogue 8, Loyal Guardian, Lonely Namech: Pad’runas was less fortunate in Aweeas. He passed down buried streets and through wrecked buildings. He found the wheel-less silt skimmers amusing, their wood petrified by the years, and began to loot caches of coins and gems that Aweeas’s final inhabitants had vainly buried in their earthen floors. The dwarf had examined only the outer reaches of the city. Pad’runas, sensing there was enough loot here to complete his retirement, pressed on into the center. He found many public buildings and stood in the wreck of some temple, or perhaps library or council chamber, holding a pulsing crystal star in his hand, when it came. The figure, terribly imposing in its rotten robes, seemed tall but wasn’t. A steel mace glimmered in its bony hands, and angry fire glowed in the ragged holes where its eyes and nose should have been. The figure barked at Pad’runas imperiously in a language he didn’t understand, but Pad’runas had looted enough ancient remains to know an undead guardian when he saw one. This creature was different than any he’d encountered before, but it carried a mace, and he knew how to deal with creatures that carried weapons. The fight was short. The meorty (for such it was) parried the half-elf’s strokes with ease, then struck Pad’runas down with such psionic fury as the rogue had never felt before. The last sight in Pad’runas’s living eyes was the meorty’s skeletal face looming over him, a cold laugh echoing from its decayed mouth.
Raaig: Raaigs were created millennia ago to protect temples or religious grounds. Though no ritual is known, some raaigs have the ability to create other raaigs, but only if the creature is willing to become one.
“Raaig” is an acquired template that can be added to any giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid of a race alive in ancient times.
A raaig is an ancient, incorporeal spirit sustained by its belief and faith in long-lost gods.
All raaigs are at least 2000 years old and are of the ancient races: dwarf, elf, human, halfling, and giant.
Nevalaeg, Elf Raaig Fighter 6, Insubstantial Shade: Nevalaeg never expected to be a holy warrior. He lived in the dark days when his people, and many peoples, were refugees fleeing the genocidal armies of the terrible Champions. His devotion was to survival, not religion. Yet the wise spirit that guided his people, a mysterious being called Iliandrim, directed his elven band upriver to a place secret from the armies of Albeorn. The City of Strong Walls the elves called it, though those who lived there before had other names.
And such wondrous beings! There were humans there, to be sure, but also many gangly insect-men, kreen they called themselves, tall and sharp-edged with nipping claws. Hidden in forbidden enclosures halfling miracle-workers closeted themselves. Over all ruled two kings, one a winged halfling and the other the greatest kreen Nevalaeg could imagine. Both were mindbenders beyond peer, and together they contrived to grant spells to those that served them most directly.
Nevalaeg knew that he owed his and his people’s survival to these Great Ones. He petitioned his chief and was permitted worship the Great Ones, swearing his eternal loyalty to them and their kingdom. He joined the border guards of the City of Strong Walls. Nevalaeg was proud and bold, and he soon won a reputation as one of the kingdom’s most ardent warriors. Even among the kreen, who viewed his kind strangely, Nevalaeg was treated as an honored companion.
The time of peace, like all such times, came to a grim end. Nevalaeg led a cadre of troops in the fighting retreat west to the City of Strong Walls, where he defended them against a brutal siege. He found the city’s enemies had holy warriors as well, and matched his blade and faith against more than a few of them. But Nevalaeg could see that his society was falling apart. The halfling-like Great One had vanished before the invasion, and the kreen Great One was overwhelmed with keeping its fellow kreen from eating the other citizens in their hunger. When the enemy broke through, Nevalaeg fought alongside the kreen Great One, slaying many foes before finally succumbing, arrows in his chest and both eyes, the victorious army trampling his corpse.
Nevalaeg’s faith survived his death, however. He returned much later, an insubstantial shade, to survey the scene of ruin and desolation.
Racked Spirit: A racked spirit is a creature whose guilt sustains its existence. In life, it committed a crime or deed so despicable to its own nature that the wrongdoing fueled its transformation into undeath. A racked spirit cannot appease its conscience and can only suppress its agony for a short while by inflicting pain on others.
Racked spirits torment individuals whose lives they have ruined, attempting to make them act contrary to their nature. If the individuals do so, they become racked spirits themselves.
“Racked spirit” is an acquired template that can be added to any humanoid, monstrous humanoid, or giant.
Guilt fuels the racked spirit’s existence. Racked spirits are creatures whose guilt over committing an offense, contrary to their basic nature, sustains them in undeath.
Pru-harta, Halfling Cleric 8: Pru-harta was deep in the eastern Forest Ridge, in the narrow spurs and draws of the foothills, when she encountered her first druid. Nelsro Valleykeep held as his guarded lands a draw high up in the foothills, nearly to the edge of the forest and the beginning of bare rock. Rare showers in the Ringing Mountains looming above brought life to the trickling stream that ran through his valley. Pru-harta fell deeply in love with Nelsro, but she could not forget the teachings of Crossto the Skydrinker: druids were perfidious—devoted not to purity but to the diluted elements found on their limited patches of land.
Nelsro found Pru-harta beautiful, requiting her love and seeking to teach her how druidic stewardship supported the land and, through this, the balance and unity of all the elements. Pru-harta saw his arguments as patently false, the claims made by the deluded. Surely Nelsro could see that life-giving rain was all that sustained his narrow valley? Rain was alone worthy of worship. Nelsro sorrowed, struggling to overcome Pru-harta’s fervent sermons, but to no avail. Finally, he banished his beloved, casting her out of his guarded lands. Pru-harta was surprised, then enraged, to be banished. If her beloved would not see the superiority of rain, she would prove it to him. His druid tricks to hide his lands from her could not withstand the cleansing, purifying power of rain. Determined to show the strength of her element and her faith, Pru-harta climbed. She stood on a jutting peak overlooking Nelsro’s narrow valley and summoned forth the mightiest rainstorm she could. The fervent priestess poured out her faith in a mighty prayer, and rain answered.
The storm gathered in black clouds, massing right over the head of Nelsro Valleykeep’s guarded lands. Great gouts of rain lashed down, accompanied by flashes of bitter lightning and the rage of thunder. Pru-harta laughed with joy and pride to see it, just before the lightning split the peak on which she stood and plunged her down into the raging torrent below. The stream in Nelsro’s valley had indeed become a furious flood, uprooting trees, eroding hillsides, and carrying all before it.
Pru-harta woke up sprawled in a mudbank. The sun beat down on her, for the fertile valley had been scoured clean by her rainstorm. Occasional rocks jutted from the bare muddy earth, now slowly baking dry. Pru-harta staggered up, found a broken branch to use as a crutch, and limped around the valley. Stumps and smashed tree boles were all that remained of the lush vegetation Nelsro had tended so carefully. She found his body near the head of the valley, where he had obviously tried to stem the onslaught. She fell down beside him and cried. She never got up.
Skeleton Thinking: A Thinking Skeleton is a skeletal undead that was once a powerful warrior of at least 8th level. Many Thinking Skeletons were forced into their undead state by powerful necromancers or one of the Sorcerer Monarchs, who trapped each of their souls in a bronze circlet.
“Thinking Skeleton” is an acquired template that can be added to any humanoid creature.
Thinking skeletons are once mighty warriors who have been trapped in endless undeath by powerful necromantic magics.
Tibarak of Numarid, Elf Thinking Skeleton Fighter 14: Tibarak of Numarid was found buried in a separate grave close to the mass grave that produced the Swiftwing skeletons, on the northern border between the Bone Lands and Deshentu. Judging by the nature of his armor, he has been buried a very long time, possibly even during the Green Age. Either way, he was dead long before the Obsidian Flow covered the land.
T'liz: T’lizes are powerful defilers whose spirits have outlived their bodies. They choose to extend their life into undeath, seeking knowledge and magical power above all else. A defiler who becomes a t’liz quite literally sacrifices her own soul to achieve immortality.
The prospective t’liz seeks out a powerful spirit of the Gray and renders her soul to it as a sacrifice. From this point on, only the defiler’s intellect and willpower animate her body—it has no spiritual component at all.
Becoming a t’liz is a process few power-hungry defilers undertake. The fact that the t’liz must continually anoint itself with magic oils means that only the most driven individuals seek this path.
“T’liz” is an acquired template that can be added to a humanoid wizard of at least 15th level. The t’liz must be able to create the oils required to keep its body functional.
Becoming a T’liz
The process of becoming a t’liz is a long and arduous one, with the ultimate result never certain. To become a t’liz, a wizard of at least 15th level must create a link between himself and the Gray. The t’liz receives its powers from the Gray, so a strong link with this plane is absolutely necessary.
Preparation
To link to the Gray, the wizard must forge a pact with a dishonored spirit. This spirit permanently infuses the caster with the energy needed to become an undead. To forge the pact, the wizard must first locate a dishonored spirit willing to enter into a pact with him. The wizard can call a spirit to Athas or travel to the Gray to search for one. This process is dangerous, for most spirits refuse to aid the supplicant until he answers its challenge to single combat; if the wizard cannot defend himself, he is probably not worthy of entering into a pact.
The pact stipulates that the wizard gives up his soul, which is sucked into the Gray and added to the spirit’s, allowing it to grow stronger. The spirit gains influence in the Gray, remains separate and more powerful than its neighbors, and fends off dissolution longer.
The Transformation
Once the pact is agreed upon, the t’liz must cast a series of spells:
o Protection from time, to preserve the wizard’s body.
o Open the Gray gate, to connect the patron spirit’s Gray energy to Athas.
o Finger of death, cast on the wizard to slay himself.
A finger of death spell would normally prove fatal to the target, but the transformation ritual leaves the wizard’s body animated by energy supplied by the spirit from the Gray, combined with his own force of identity. The wizard expels his soul to the Gray and becomes a t’liz.
With the notable exceptions of kaishargas, morgs and t’lizes, who seek out undeath as a means of immortality, most corporeal undead linger in life for a special purpose or to serve a special duty.
T’lizes are powerful defilers whose search for knowledge and power compelled them to seek undeath to complete their studies.
Three types of undead creatures are different from the rest: the t’liz, the kaisharga, and the morg. Such warped beings voluntarily sought undeath, believing it a form of immortality.
Morg and T’liz: These two transformations demand less time and expense, but each involves the creation of a magic item from unusual ingredients. On one hand, most components in a morg wrapping or t’liz oil cost no additional ceramic pieces, so a DM can assume the item’s creation includes finding or purchasing the odd ingredients. Alternatively, the creator may have to spend adventuring time hunting down the rare flower of the rock cactus, which blooms only once a year.
Some speculate that the [dishonored] spirits know the secret to becoming a dreaded t’liz. The spirits not only know, but are obligated by their curse to reveal the transformation process to a wizard they deem worthy. A wizard who survives a spirit’s test of worthiness can trust in its code of honor; the spirit will not break the pact necessary in the wizard’s transformation into a t’liz.
When a dishonored spirit is questioned, it answers truthfully, though it may not answer to its best ability. While the spirit will not outright lie, it dislikes revealing information easily, usually making the questioner work hard for the answer. In some perverse way, the spirit seeks to be sure that the questioner meets its own distorted standards of honorable behavior. Wily defilers take advantage of the spirit’s code to bind the spirit into revealing the secrets of becoming a t’liz.
A morg is a powerful undead similar to a kaisharga or t’liz but with one critical difference: a morg cannot bring himself into the eternity of undeath.
Daaharum, Elf T'liz Wizard Defiler 17, Slender Elven Maid, Self-Centered Person: She returned once to the Dead Lands, seeking knowledge from the same creatures that laid low her people. She survived the ordeal and learned a way to extend her life so she can pursue her studies. She willingly underwent the excruciating ritual of becoming a t’liz, knowing it would mean an existence of unending fear married to unending desire.
Daaharum walked the length of the tunnel, a dizzying experience as the mist swirled around her and seemed to make the corridor spin. Soon she reached the end and entered a featureless world of gray, a boundless plane of nothing. All around her everything was gray, and she saw neither buildings nor terrain—no sun, no sand, nothing. The Gray was a vast, ashen haze. Daaharum could feel the chill of the dead though. She hadn’t spent her whole life near the dead without being able to recognize their presence. She knew it wouldn’t take long for the spirit to contact her. Her body stood out in this plane of death like an elven magic-seller at a templar gathering. And Zar-okan was expecting her. The spirit with which she had made her pact, knew that now was the time to make the deal.
As Daaharum pondered her situation, a pair of gray eyes darker than the haze appeared before her. A hand materialized out of the air, trying to grab her throat. Before it touched her body, the hand struck a barrier. When the hand could go no further, Daaharum felt a surge of anger from the presence before her. Its hatred for the living was palpable. The spirit was so close that Daaharum could reach out and grab it. Its gray eyes darkened to almost black.
Knowing she had little time, and now that she had proven she could stand up to him, Daaharum said, “Listen, Zar-okan, your tactics won’t work against me. You will surrender your power to me, or else I will make sure you fade away to nothing! There are others like you, and I’m sure some would like the chance to touch the world again!”
The spirit’s eyes narrowed, and Daaharum heard a voice inside her head. “Very well,” it whispered, “I accept. Return to the world and send your soul up to me so that I may feed upon its corrupted energy.”
The force in Daaharum’s head numbed her with an evil cold. Its putrid presence nearly made her swoon, and now that she had let it enter, she had to complete the pact before the spirit killed her. When Daaharum stepped back into the tunnel, she felt a force pressing onto her barrier—Zar-okan checking to see if he could break through. The hungry spirit was once again trying to absorb her before the pact was complete.
The hot Athasian air struck Daaharum’s face, and she realized how cold she was. She looked at her hands and found them a pale gray color, almost as lifeless as the plane she had just departed. The planar travel had left her fatigued, but Daaharum still had the stored energy inside her. She had time to cast the ritual’s final spell, and Zar-okan’s presence in her mind urged her to move quickly. Daaharum knew better than to rush through the ritual. The smallest wrong detail would deny her immortality. Gathering the two eyes of the tembo she had killed earlier, Daaharum clipped a few of her nails, then jabbed her finger into her eye. The pain made her wince, and tears spilled onto her face. Quickly collecting the tears, Daaharum began her chant.
As her voice rose higher and higher with the spell’s eerie words, Daaharum felt a strange emptiness inside her. At first barely noticeable, the feeling increased as she kept chanting. When Daaharum crushed the tembo's eyes between her palms, as the spell demanded, the emptiness became pain. The pain increased as she dropped her tears into her slime-coated palms, growing into an almost unbearable nausea. Through gritted teeth she managed to chant the final syllables. Upon comlpetion, Daaharum dropped to her knees, the pain overwhelming her. She felt her very soul being torn from her body, as if her skin were peeled from her bones, only a hundred times more intense. Her mouth opened in a scream, a primal, almost animal sound. Her hands were stretched tight, palms turned upward towards the sky. As her soul abandoned her body, a gray haze settled over her mind, clouding her eyes and her thoughts. She could feel her body dying; already she had lost feeling in her hands and feet. The numbness of death slowly crept up her body, but Daaharum's final thoughts before she collapsed from the pain were not of fear. They were of exultation. She had done it! She was now immortal!
Venger, Animated Corpse of a Being Wronged in Life by an Intelligent Being: A venger was killed by an act of betrayal or otherwise deeply wronged while alive. The intelligent being that inflicted the wrong or betrayal must survive beyond the death of the individual who becomes a venger. At the moment of death, the consciousness of the wronged person is trapped by its rage and frustration within its corpse, and it rises as an undead venger 2d6 days later.
“Venger” is an acquired template that can be added to any giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid. The creature must have been deeply wronged, either at the time of death or before, by an intelligent being. Often, vengers are formed by betrayals of long-held loyalties.
A venger is the animated corpse of a being wronged in life by an intelligent being. The venger is animated by its hatred and rage, existing for the sole purpose of slaying the being that wronged it.
Kozor the Bereaved, Gnome Venger Fighter 6: Kozor was in the antechamber of the city council chambers when it began. The massacre swept through the city, riding shouts of “Cleanse the shortbeards!” and “Purify for the Prophet!”. Kozor dove into the wine cellar and hid among the casks, awaiting darkness, when the rioters retired to their homes and taverns to celebrate their triumph. Slowly he picked his way through the streets, avoiding the areas lit by burning homes where gnomes, orcs, and other non-humans had lived. Surely Althabno had protected his family?
Kozor’s house was a blackened ruin, his bonecrafting shop demolished and his tools broken on the cobblestones. Across the street, the mansion of Althabno stood tall and regal, though the pennon indicating the merchant was home did not fly. On the gateposts hung Kozor’s wife, Grasna, her body naked and mutilated. His children, spitted beside her, he could not look at. Kozor smashed his fist against Althabno’s doors, demanding to be let in. The servants, when they came, carried cudgels. The bonesmith killed two with his bare hands before he himself was surrounded and beaten to death.
But death’s warm welcome could not hold Kozor’s tormented soul. He rose soon afterward, his body made whole once more and his mind pared of all thoughts but one: finding the treacherous merchant Althabno, who had surrendered his family to the pogrom.
Zhen: Zhens are powerful undead created by the boiling liquid obsidian that poured out of the gate to the Plane of Magma in the Dead Lands over 2,000 years ago. This mysterious, black, boiling death created unique undead.
“Zhen” is an acquired template that can be added to any giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid. The base creature’s race must have existed in ancient times.
Zhens are undead created by the dark, twisted energies of the Dead Lands. They were created when the boiling liquid obsidian unleashed by the gate to the plane of magma consumed their bodies.
Volldrager, Human Zhen Cleric 18: Volldrager was sprawled in his dungeon when the earth of the Navel shook in anger. He strained to make sense of the sounds of battle in the courtyards and chambers above, but could make out only the shouts of the living and the screams of the dying. Then the world vanished. Volldrager was slammed against the back wall of his cell by a wash of liquid such as no water cleric could ever love. The molten obsidian killed the cleric instantly, washing away the restraints that had prevented him from using his divine magic to escape imprisonment and leaving his body spinning in the slowly solidifying obsidian of the dungeons below the Navel.
As water brings life, obsidian brought death—or undeath, in this case. Such were Volldrager’s thoughts as he emerged back into consciousness, reborn as a zhen. He was half encased in obsidian, half exposed to an air pocket trapped in the dungeon. Volldrager despised himself for being undead—water is the blood of life, after all—but soon concluded that the obsidian was the result of wizards meddling in the purview of priests, and that as a priest, albeit a dead one, it was his duty to the elements to do what he could end the ignorant tinkering of Qwith and her fellow researchers.
Zombie Thinking: A thinking zombie is a creature that died while doing a specific task, and it cannot rest until it completes that task.
“Thinking zombie” is an acquired template that can be added to any giant, humanoid, or monstrous humanoid.
Thinking zombies are creatures that died before being able to complete an important quest or task.
Unliving Identity spell.
Chalras, Half-Elf Thinking Zombie Rogue 8: Two days later, Chalras was exhausted, half-dead with hunger and thirst and maddened by the blasting sun. He stumbled from smooth wavelike hill to glass hill, desperate for some respite from the heat. He never saw the slight undulations that revealed the edges of the ant lion’s pit. Chalras fell into the pit, sliding down on slivers and flakes of smooth, black glass to rest at the bottom of the cone. That’s when the beast attacked. The undead ant lion was huge, its hairs sprouting through chitin all over its ugly, flat head, and massive pincers clacking as it sought its prey. Chalras fought for his life, bone dagger flashing white in the spray of glass fragments the ant lion churned up.
By all rights, Chalras should have been slain and eaten that day. But, as Draegwo had mocked him, he had spent his entire life around insects, and he knew more than a little about them. Though he had never seen an ant lion before, Chalras knew that all insects had segmented bodies, and he knew that if he could find the seam where the segments joined, he could hurt the beast in a vulnerable spot. When the last flakes of obsidian settled, only the hilt of Chalras’s bone knife protruded from the joint behind the ant lion’s ugly head. It took days for Chalras to realize that he had also died. The ant lion’s jaws had raked him across his chest, making deep wounds that neither festered nor healed. His hunger and thirst vanished, and the heat of the sun no longer exhausted him.
Bugdead Exoskeleton: ?
Agony Beetle Bugdead: ?
Antloid Bugdead: ?
Ant Lion Giant Bugdead, Undead Giant Ant Lion: ?
Aratha Bugdead, Undead Aratha: ?
Assassin Bug Bugdead: ?
Cilops Bugdead: ?
Desert Cricket Swarm Bugdead: ?
Ear Seeker Bugdead: ?
Giant Beastfly Bugdead: ?
Giant Bluebottle Fly Bugdead: ?
Giant Dragonfly Bugdead: ?
Giant Dragonfly Larva Bugdead: ?
Giant Firefly Bugdead: ?
Pulp Bee Bugdead, Undead Pulp Bee: ?
Swarm Bugdead, Undead Insect Swarm, Carnivorous Swarm of Undead Bugs: ?
Termite Giant Bugdead, Giant Undead Termite: ?
Tick Giant Bugdead: ?
Zombie Bugdead: ?
Antloid Dynamis Exoskeleton: ?
Antloid Queen Exoskeleton: ?
Ant Lion Giant Exoskeleton: ?
Aratha Exoskeleton: ?
Assassin Bug Exoskeleton: ?
Cilops Exoskeleton: ?
Desert Cricket Swarm Exoskeleton: ?
Ear Seeker Exoskeleton: ?
Giant Beastfly Exoskeleton: ?
Giant Bluebottle Fly Exoskeleton: ?
Giant Dragonfly Exoskeleton: ?
Giant Dragonfly Larva Exoskeleton: ?
Giant Firefly Exoskeleton: ?
Pulp Bee Exoskeleton: ?
Swarm Athasian Locust Exoskeleton: ?
Swarm Min-Kank Exoskeleton: ?
Termite Giant Exoskeleton: ?
Tick Giant Exoskeleton: ?
Bugdead Zombie: ?
Agony Beetle Zombie: ?
Antloid Worker Zombie: ?
Antloid Soldier Zombie: ?
Antloid Dynamis Zombie: ?
Antloid Queen Zombie: ?
Ant Lion Giant Zombie: ?
Aratha Zombie: ?
Assassin Bug Zombie: ?
Cilops Zombie: ?
Desert Cricket Swarm Zombie: ?
Ear Seeker Zombie: ?
Giant Beastfly Zombie: ?
Giant Bluebottle Fly Zombie: ?
Giant Dragonfly Zombie: ?
Giant Dragonfly Zombie: ?
Giant Firefly Zombie: ?
Pulp Bee Zombie: ?
Swarm Athasian Locust Zombie: ?
Swarm Min-Kank Zombie: ?
Termite Giant Zombie: ?
Tick Giant Zombie: ?
Cursed Dwarven Dead: Cursed dwarven dead are known to exist in only one place, the Groaning City beneath the ruins of Giustenal, though they may dwell elsewhere. There may also be similar undead of other races, though none have been reported. The cursed dead in the Groaning City were created by a curse spoken by Dread-King Dregoth, after he had led his troops in vanquishing the last dwarven resistance under his city. As the captured dwarves were hanged, Dregoth cursed them, and they remain hideous undead creatures to this day.
Silt Krag: A water cleric dying in the Sea of Silt, for example, may rise as a silt krag; the anguish of dying to a force the cleric spent his life combating is sometimes enough to create a wicked and cruel undead creature.
Silt Krag, Wicked Cruel Undead Creature: ?
Silt Krag, Skeleton With Dried Grayish Bones: ?
Water Krag, Moldy Fungus-Ridden Skeleton: ?
Silt Krag, Silt-Krag: ?
Magma Krag: ?
Air Krag: ?
Earth Krag: ?
Fire Krag: ?
Water Krag: ?
Rain Krag: ?
Sun Krag: ?
Ashen, Walking Remains of a Humanoid: ?
Athasian Wraith, Swirling Mass of Black Smoke, Grayish Shade, Gray Shade, Green Shade, Deadly Creature: ?
Athasian Wraith, Undead Master: ?
Dwarven Banshee, Racked Spirit: ?
Blight, Tiny Being Made of Glowing Light: ?
Mindless Bugdead: ?
Bugdead Kank, Large Creature: ?
Bugdead Kank, Mindless Bugdead: ?
Creeping Claw, Severed Limb: ?
Creeping Claw, Severed Hand: ?
Creeping Claw, Severed Foot: ?
Dhaot, Incorporeal Creature: ?
Dune Runner, Racked Spirit: ?
Fael, Ravenous Creature: ?
Fallen, Spirit of a Dead Warrior Who Died Unjustly: ?
Fallen, Spirit of a Dead Warrior Who Was Sacrificed in Battle: ?
Fallen, Angry Spirit: ?
Kaisharga, Warped Being: ?
Meorty, Tasked Undead: ?
Meorty, Undead Master: ?
Meorty, Creature Raised in Undeath to Protect an Area: ?
Meorty, Undead Guardian, Guardian: ?
Meorty Guardian: ?
Meorty, Figure, Undead Guardian, Meorty Master: ?
Morg, Warped Being: ?
Namech, Independent Undead: Upon the death of their master, they [namechs] are free, either to die or remain as independent undead.
Raaig, Undead Master: ?
Raaig, Tasked Undead: ?
Raaig, Undead Guardian: ?
Raaig, Guardian: ?
Scarlet Warden, Crab-Like Eight-Legged Beast With a Deep Red Carapace, Undead S'thag Zagath: ?
T'liz That Hates Insects: ?
T'liz, Warped Being: ?
Tormented, Half-Formed Shape of a Human With Green Glowing Eyes, Spirit: ?
Tormented, Servant: ?
Undissolved Spirit, Translucent Humanoid Spirit, Lingering Ghost of a Being Wronged in Life, Tormented Spirit: ?
Venger, Racked Spirit: ?
Zhen, Undead Master: ?
Althbano, Zhen: Althabno, however, is long dead—he was a very old man when the obsidian washed over Ulyan, and he was slain by it, returning as a zhen.
Undead War Beetle, Animated Remains of an Immense Beetle, Plodding Hulk, War Machine, Huge Beetle, Bug: ?
Worm of Bones, Immense Worm Fashioned From the Interlocking Bones of Hundreds if Not Thousands of Dead Things, Undead Beast, Unthinking Killer: ?
Worm of Bones, Guardian: ?
Lightning Zombie, Peculiar Creation of the Zwuun and the Energies of the Sorcerer-King Nibenay's Fortress Nagarramakam: ?
Salt Zombie, Shrunken Shriveled Husk, Shriveled Husk, Semi-Intelligent Zombie: ?
Exoskeleton Bugdead Kank, Slow-Moving Husk: ?
Undead, Undead Creature: A creature’s death determines which type of undead it becomes and what special powers or weaknesses it acquires in undeath.
The type of undead a creature becomes depends on the cause of its death or the motive behind it.
Create Undead undead special ability.
Athasian Undead: ?
Intelligent Undead: ?
Lesser Undead: ?
Mindless Undead, Animated Automaton: Athas has its mindless undead, of course, animated automatons created to serve their masters.
Nonevil Undead: ?
Corporeal Undead: ?
Incorporeal Undead: ?
Intelligent Corporeal Undead: The spirits of corporeal undead are linked to the Gray, providing them with continued existence and sometimes necromantic magic.
With the notable exceptions of kaishargas, morgs and t’lizes, who seek out undeath as a means of immortality, most corporeal undead linger in life for a special purpose or to serve a special duty. Their special link with the Gray compels many of them to “give back” to the spirit world; thus, many of these creatures feel a void that they can never fill but attempt to satiate with food, the flesh of the dead, or even the flesh of the living.
Intelligent Incorporeal Undead: ?
Free-Willed Undead Insect: ?
Mindless Undead Insect: ?
Undead S'thag Zagath: ?
Undead Warrior: ?
Free-Willed Undead: ?
Undead Master: ?
Undead Character: ?
Undead Cleric: ?
Undead Druid: ?
Undead Ranger: ?
Summoned Undead: ?
Undead Body: ?
Athasian Free-Willed Undead: ?
Medium Undead: ?
Tasked Undead: ?
Undead That Exists for Thousands of Years: ?
Powerful Undead Spirit: ?
Undead Creature With the Possession Ability: ?
Northern Humanoid Undead: ?
Humanoid Undead: ?
Undead Insect: ?
Less-Intelligent Undead Humanoid: ?
Undead Defiler: ?
Undead Beast: ?
Insectoid Undead: ?
Hideous Undead Creature: ?
Extremely Powerful Undead: ?
Undead Guardian: ?
Powerful Undead: ?
Unique Undead: ?
Terrifying Undead: ?
Undead Ant Lion: ?
Terrifying Swarm of Undead Giant Wasps: ?
Undead Vermin: ?
Lingering Ghost: ?
Mummy: ?
Shadow: Create Greater Undead spell caster level 16.
Skeleton: Bugdead swarms often eat rotting flesh, consuming zombies found anywhere in the Black Basin. These attacks rarely destroy the undead, for the bugdead simply strip the rancid flesh while leaving bone intact; the zombies become skeletons (or exoskeletons).
Athas has its mindless undead, of course, animated automatons created to serve their masters. These undead are usually skeletons and zombies animated from any bones, huge beasts or small rodents, fallen warriors or spellcasters, returned in undeath to serve as slaves.
Skeleton, Mindless Undead, Animated Automaton, Walking Dead: ?
Exoskeleton, Walking Dead: ?
Skeleton-Like Creature: ?
Uncontrolled Skeleton: Open the Gray Gate spell.
Skeletal Monster: ?
Almost Skeletal Figure: ?
Wasp Cloud: ?
Exoskeleton Wasp: ?
Gaunt Skeletal Being: ?
Skeletal Undead: ?
Skeletal Creature: ?
Swiftwing Skeleton: ?
Skeletal Inix: ?
Zombie: Athas has its mindless undead, of course, animated automatons created to serve their masters. These undead are usually skeletons and zombies animated from any bones, huge beasts or small rodents, fallen warriors or spellcasters, returned in undeath to serve as slaves.
Zombie, Mindless Undead, Animated Automaton, Walking Dead: ?
Uncontrolled Zombie: Open the Gray Gate spell.
Unliving Identity spell.
Mindless Zombie: ?
Intelligent Zombie: ?
Semi-Intelligent Zombie: ?
Zombie Laborer, Sallow-Faced Zombie: ?
Walking Dead: The walking dead are animated and sustained by mindless Gray forces, usually under the animator’s control.
Being That Knows No Rest: ?
Creature of the Gray: ?
Thrall: ?
Corpse: ?
Lightning Serpent, Autonomous Writhing Band of Electrical Energy: Ashen's Sorcererous Blast Lightning Serpent power.
Desiccated Corpse: ?
Shambling Bones: ?
Create Greater Undead
Necromancy [Evil]
Level: Clr 8, Wiz 8, Tem 8
This spell functions like create undead, except that you can create more powerful and intelligent sorts of undead: Gray zombies, shadows, Athasian wraiths, and tormented. The type or types of undead you can create is based on your caster level. Each type gains additional special abilities described in Chapter 3: Special Attacks, Qualities and Weaknesses, as shown on the table below.
Caster Level Undead Created Special Abilities CR
15th or lower Gray zombie Paralysis 3
16th–17th Shadow Despair, spell resistance 5
18th–19th Athasian wraith Life disruption 7
20th or higher Tormented Death gaze, reflect physical attacks 11
Create Undead
Necromancy [Evil]
Level: Clr 6, Wiz 6, Tem 6
Components: V, S, M
Casting Time: 1 hour
Range: Close (25 ft. + 5 ft./2 levels)
Target: One corpse
Duration: Instantaneous
Saving Throw: None
Spell Resistance: No
A much more potent spell than animate dead, this evil spell allows you to create more powerful sorts of undead: creeping claws, ioramhs, salt zombies, and ashens. The undead do not gain any additional special powers described in Chapter 3: Special Attacks, Qualities and Weaknesses. The type or types of undead you can create is based on your caster level, as shown on the table below.
Caster Level Undead Created
11th or lower Creeping claws*
12th–14th Ioramh
15th–17th Salt zombie
18th or higher Ashen
*Up to four creeping claws can be created per corpse, and they are two sizes smaller than the corpse.
You may create less powerful undead than your level would allow, if you choose. Created undead are not automatically under the control of their animator. If you are capable of commanding undead, you may attempt to command the undead creature as it forms.
This spell must be cast at night.
Material Component: A clay pot filled with grave dirt, and another filled with brackish water. The spell must be cast on a dead body. You must place a black onyx gem worth at least 50 Cp per HD of the undead to be created into the mouth or eye socket of each corpse. The magic of the spell turns these gems into worthless shells.
Unliving Identity
Necromancy [Evil]
Level: Clr 7, Dead Heart 5, Wiz 7
Components: V, S, M, XP
Casting Time: 1 round
Range: Touch
Target: One zombie
Duration: Instantaneous
Saving Throw: See text
Spell Resistance: See text
You recall a mindless zombie’s consciousness from the Gray, transforming it into a thinking zombie.
This spell restores personality, memory, identity, skills, class levels—everything but life. The creature remains undead, and if you previously controlled the zombie, you may elect to retain control of it, but its HD count against the total you can control with animate dead; if you exceed that number, excess undead from previous castings become uncontrolled.
Open the Gray Gate
Conjuration (Creation, Summoning) [Evil]
Level: Wiz 8
Components: V, S
Casting Time: 10 minutes
Range: Medium (100 ft. + 10 ft./level)
Area: Cylinder (10-ft. radius, 30-ft. high)
Duration: 1 min./level (D)
Saving Throw: None
Spell Resistance: No
You open a one-way gate from the Gray, allowing energy from that plane to seep out onto Athas. The gate appears as a swirling column of gray mist, cold even in full sunlight. Its area does not block movement, but it does provide concealment, as the obscuring mist spell.
If you do not anchor the gate within 1 minute of casting the spell, the gate begins to move 40 feet per round in a random direction. Anchoring the gate requires a permanency spell, though this application neither costs XP nor makes the gate permanent; it simply holds it in place for the duration.
Any living creature coming into contact with the gate, gains one negative level per round of contact. A creature drained and killed by the gate, rises as an uncontrolled Athasian wraith in 3 rounds.
All other corpses within 30 ft. of the gate become temporarily animated as uncontrolled skeletons and zombies, as animate dead, except that they cease animating when the duration ends. Buried corpses animate and crawl to the surface, as long as they are buried no more than 6 feet deep.
Each minute, the massive release of energy from the Gray has a 50% chance of catching the attention of one or more undead seeking temporary escape from the spirit plane. The spell summons a random number of undead to the gate’s location according to the following table. The undead do not gain any additional special powers described in Chapter 3: Special Attacks, Qualities and Weaknesses.
1d6 Undead Summoned
1 3d6 undissolved spirits
2 2d6 Gray zombies
3 1d6 shadows
4 1d3 Athasian wraiths
5 1 tormented
6 1 crimson
Though the summoned undead recognize you as the caster, they mercilessly attack you and any other living creatures. If an undead has the possession ability, it tries to possess your body if given the opportunity. The undead may not roam farther than 10 miles from the portal. They vanish into the Gray when the spell ends. If the spell ends while your body is possessed, you die.
Casting a dimensional lock spell so that its area encompasses the gate’s area, prevents creatures from traveling from the Gray.
Ambulatory Limbs (Ex) [CR +1, LA +1]
Only corporeal undead can have this ability. The undead can detach a hand or foot as a standard action, the separated part becoming a creeping claw (see Chapter 5: Monsters). The claw is two size categories smaller than the undead. Detaching a limb deals the undead damage equal to the creeping claw’s hit points; when reattaching it, the undead regains the claw’s current hit points. A creeping claw is under its owner’s control, as long as the owner is animated and within 100 ft. Otherwise, it behaves as a mindless undead.
Create Spawn [CR +1/3, LA +2]
The undead can perform a short ritual over a helpless humanoid as a full-round action. The ritual involves a coup de grace, and if the creature dies, it rises after 48 hours as a namech under the original undead’s control. At any one time, the undead can have namech spawn with total HD equal to its own.
Create Undead (Sp) [CR +1/3, LA +1]
The undead can create other undead creatures from bones or corpses. It gains the following spell-like abilities at the appropriate Hit Dice.
Hit Dice Spell-Like Abilities
1 HD to 6 HD —
7 HD to 10 HD Animate dead 1/day
11 HD to 14 HD Create undead 1/day
15 HD or more HD Create greater undead 1/day
