Bestiary III - The Newly Dead

Illustration by author

    The unquiet dead do not often rise quickly from their graves. It can take weeks, months, or even years before those who die begin to feel the stirrings of animus once more. However, for those who have died a  bloody or violent death, the transition to the grips of the unquiet sickness can be brutally swift. Gaping wounds mar their body, still gushing with congealed blood. Their skin is livid, the blotched pink, bruised green, or deep purple-black of the recently deceased. Their limbs hang at awkward angles, hacked and hewn, but their movement is not hindered by dismemberment. They are driven by a vigorous, deathly vitality. In their eyes is a fierce radiance, their sockets ringed by dark insomniac circles. Their minds are torn to shreds by the break-neck speed at which they were pulled from life into death, but they retain enough to remember who they were, and have a certain bestial cunning about them. They suffer from the want, the yearning of the unquiet, the hunger that drives the dead, but theirs manifests in a different way. They do not hunger for the acquisition of wealth, power, or knowledge. The want to bathe in violence and immerse themselves in pain- perhaps to chase away the demons of their own suffering. Their constant, open-mouthed rictus and relentless intensity serve as unnerving hints to the agonies they long to inflict upon those still alive.

A Bloody Demise. People from all walks of life may become branded by the sickness in this manner, but those who deal regularly with violence are more likely to be afflicted. Thugs, petty criminals, and murderers often die in painful ways, as do mercenaries, soldiers, gunslingers, adventurers, and other ne’er-do-wells. The Newly Dead use whatever equipment they may have used in life, albeit more recklessly and with no regard for their own well being.

Violent Delights. The Newly Dead have only one drive: to visit pain and violence upon the living in whatever twisted way they can imagine. They will never shy away from violence, indeed will go out of their way and actively seek it wherever they might be. Similarly, they have no regard for violence inflicted upon themselves. They will not seek to preserve their existence in any way, seeming to enjoy the promise of further mutilation.

Howling Packs. In their hunt to dispense cruelty, the Newly Dead sometimes stumble across others with the same drive. They gather slowly in their masses and then descend like wildfire upon those who lack the courage or the wits to run. And they cry and they shriek and they laugh as they do so. Battlefields become recruiting grounds, and dark alleys become the perfect ambush.

Undead Nature. The Newly Dead do not require air, food, drink, or sleep, although sometimes in quiet moments they may listlessly mimic the things they did before- a meagre shadow of a life once lived. They may take a bite out of a morsel of food before letting it tumble from their lips, or they may stop suddenly to smell the crisp night air, lost in the remnants of a memory.

In the Grips of Sickness. The Newly Dead do not exist for a long time. They burn like a flame and snuff out like a brief candle. They are also particularly susceptible to the runaway effects of the unquiet sickness. They succumb with shocking speed to its mutating force. If it takes hold, it can warp and twist their already mangled bodies, making them terrifying and grotesque, monstrous, before they meet yet another violent end. If this happens, they drop all equipment they have and fly into a senseless bloodthirsty rage, attacking with their bare hands and their gnashing teeth. Their bodies begin to grow, expanding, distended, amorphous and sickening.

The idea with this monster is that it is a template which you can apply to virtually any NPC. The only thing they require is the addition of a few extra rules- Vulnerability to fire and other undead condition immunities, Deathly Vigour, Lifesense, and the optional but recommended:

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Variant: Unquiet Mutation

After taking damage in combat, the dead must make a Constitution saving throw (DC is equal to 10 plus the damage taken). If it fails, it gains 1 hit die and 1d8 temporary hit points. On each of its subsequent turns, regardless of whether damage is taken, the effect happens again- no save is required.

Once this effect has been triggered six times, its size increases to large and it gains 1d6 Strength and 1d6 Constitution. If the effect is triggered a further six times then its size, Strength and Constitution increases again and it adds another +1d8 damage to its Slam attack, and so on. Repeat as necessary.

Size and Strength. While the dead's size is medium, it cannot use its Slam attack. Once it is large, it may make up to two Slam attacks per round. However, it cannot use its other actions.

Slam. Melee Weapon Attack: Strength +2 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 1d8 + Strength bludgeoning damage.

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 This rule ensures that the body horror aspect of the unquiet sickness remains at the forefront of the game. An unspeakable, unceasing, growing monstrosity like something out of AKIRA. A mountain of burgeoning flesh. I magine them a little bit like a mix of that and the Forged from Robin Hobb's Assassin trilogy.

Feel free to use this monster as you see fit. Tweak the rules if you wish, they aren't watertight by any stretch of the imagination.

Peace,

O

Bestiary II - The Shrouded Carrion

Illustration by yours truly

 

Amongst the unquiet dead, there are those who cling to the dark and shun light in the vain hope of quelling the sickness from which they suffer. But the disease is a twisted force, and once it has taken hold there is little which can stop it. Shrouded carrion wander endlessly through catacombs, craggy ruins, and moonlit streets, unable to rest in their tombs for the incessant itching hunger which claws at their minds. The unquenchable want which plagues the dead has rooted in their soul.

They bring with them their burial shroud and clutch it tightly around them. As a memento of their former self, it is a shield to ward away the outside world, but it is not enough. The burning light of the living shines through even the thickest of cloth and scorches them all the same, causing pain and madness, turning them inexorably to violence.

Undead Nature. Carrion do not require air, food, drink, or sleep.

Creeping Assailant. Before combat, a carrion will attempt to hide, gaining an advantageous position to surprise and smother the nearest most vulnerable living creature with their shroud. They swiftly wrap the shroud over their opponent’s head and begin to constrict their face and neck with long, sinewy fingers.

A note about this monster- my initial idea when creating monsters for this project was to make undead a little more interesting. I wanted to make them more varied and potentially quite scary, even at low challenge ratings. There's nothing about the shrouded carrion which suggests they would be difficult to beat in a fight, but their Smother ability makes them a potentially dangerous assailant for the unwary.

 Feel free to use this monster as you wish.

Peace,

O

Bestiary I - The Blubber Golem

 

An illustration of the Blubber Golem by yours truly.

Apostates and pariahs must still practice their craft, regardless of where they are forced to hide. The town of Leviathan Bay provides such a refuge for those who practice the art of golemancy and study the science of anatomy. Those who tamper with animating dead matter are shunned by polite society (and many amongst impolite society too for that matter), and even at the best of times, human tissue is staggeringly expensive. When resources to create their delicate masterpiece are scarce, artificers must content themselves with more inelegant meat. Fortunately, the squalid town has a literal mountain of it. However, what results is often ugly and ponderous. Constructed with greasy matter gleaned from the corpse of the stranded titan, this strange breed of golem is a crude and clumsy assembly. A rubbery mass of tissue, a lipid monstrosity of oily offal imbued with rudimentary motive force. Its bones are shaved and sawed into shape, bound by slippery cartilage into an ersatz skeleton and grafted with waxy flesh. Its gangly limbs jut out at strange angles, and its joints bend to uncanny degrees. It moves with a clumsy, lurching gait and carries the heavy tools of the flesh gangs- an immense meat cleaver, a serrated greatsword, a huge bonesaw, and the like.

The creature's exact shape varies between specimens, but most have a stunted nub of a head atop a hulking and lumpen body. Its hide is heavy and thick, and slick with foul-smelling oil. This provides the creature with a durable and weatherproof skin, but there is little available to grant the construct much sight or hearing. The golem’s sensory organs are a mere gesture towards function. Many have little more than pinholes for eyes, and an asymmetrical gash of a mouth. They are often dressed in simple garments of rope and hessian cloth, or other materials common amongst seafaring communities- seal skin or shark leather.

The following rules apply to blubber golems in addition to the general rules for golems found in the Monster Manual:

Graceless Anatomy. The golem’s body is constructed from unsuitable materials and assembled by an artificer with inadequate knowledge of anatomy. It stumbles as it walks, and its limbs flail as it attempts to balance itself.

Mercenary Muscle. Blubber golems are often brought along as crew on whaling ships, or amongst the flesh gangs- land based scavengers who scour the shores for scraps of meat and oil. They carry the heavy loads, and the heavy weapons. Chopping up large whales requires equally large knives. You may replace the golem's Immense Whale Cleaver with another appropriately huge, appropriately sharp weapon.

Pelagic Memories. Blubber golems are made from the stuff of the sea, and their form unconsciously remembers the feel of water. Although they are slow on the land, they can swim perfectly, with a speed of 40 feet per round. Additionally, when they are fully submerged in water, they no longer count as Clumsy.

 

Feel absolutely free to use this monster in any way you see fit, shove it into your games of nautical nonsense and watery weirdness. I'm going to make a few more posts about monsters I've created and illustrated.

Peace,

O