Flying Snails

Flying Snails are huge for snails.  They have about 10 pounds of mass, and 0 pounds of weight.  They fly by spinning their bodies, travelling through the air like a drill while paddling their heads around in a circle.

Even if they didn't fly, they would be distinctive for their steel grey shells and bright orange bodies, like the pulp of a mango.

Flying snails don't look like snails.  They prey on birds and small animals, and camouflage themselves by gluing leaves and branches on top of themselves.

Flying snails are one of the few creatures that naturally (alchemically) produce a magic material.  Their shells have negative weight. A shell that would weigh 5 pounds, instead weighs negative 5 pounds. If you tie a shell weighing -5 lbs to a slug that weighs 5 pounds, the resulting object would be weightless.  It functions a bit like a balloon.

Except, unlike a balloon, a flying snail shell will actually leave the atmosphere and fly into space, avoiding all the planets and suns, and never falling into a stable orbit.

Digression: It is hypothesized that there may be planes and masses also made of antigravity-stuff, where normal gravity-stuff and antigravity-stuff are reversed, and the flying snail shell may indeed come into a stable orbit. Good luck landing on it.  Or even reaching it, since it is probably as far away from our half of the universe as it can get.

There is both a dance and a men's hat named after the flying snail.

While they were once common in the Abasinian mountains and hills, they have been hunted nearly to extinction.  Their shells are worth a fortune, and are incorporated into things in order to make them lighter, especially armor.

Because of the exotic effects of the poison, the flying snails are sometimes linked to the fire cults, and for that reason, are sometimes referred to as "demon snails of the inferno".

It is rumored that fire cults would catch devout members of the Church, sting them several times with the flying snails, and then abandon them in the woods to die from the poison.  The idea then, is to search for an antidote, of which none is known for certain (but many suggestions exist).

What is known, however, is that the last hierophant of the Zagyron fire cult was the only known person to have been executed by being flung into space, when he was locked inside a cage made from flying snail shell and allowed to fall upward.  If the cage was ever recovered, it would be worth a fortune.

The prince of Chengali has a pair of wings made from flying snail shell.  When strapped to his back, they make him so light that it becomes possible for him to fly.  He is rumored to spend his winters flying through the jasmine-scented canyons within the Royal Preserve.

Flying Snail
HD 1 AC plate Sting 1d3 + poison
Fly at walking speed Int 3 Mor 7
*Heartstopper Poison: Poison does no damage immediately, but creates a painful burning sensation that lingers for hours.  The next time you go to sleep, once you hit deep REM sleep (about 90 minutes after falling asleep), you will have horrible nightmares, usually about being burned alive.  At this point, make a Con check for each time you were stung since you last went to sleep.  For each check that you fail, take 1d6 damage, simultaneously.

Shells are worth 100gp if undamaged, or 50gp if damaged.

this is what the shell looks like

Encounters:

1. Some kids thought they saw a flying snail high up in a tree, hidden in the thick branches.  If you pay them 10gp, they'll tell you which tree.  Caveat: the kids are telling the truth, but there's not one snail up there; there's two.

2. A dungeon has fire cultists in it.  They all poison their spears with flying snail poison.  The PCs might feel their hearts fluttering after they've been hit a few times, but they won't know about the poison's deadly effects unless they ask a cultist or a cleric.  The antidote, of course, is inside a small room guarded by a guy who knows the sleep spell (which is now potentially very deadly).

3. An alchemist has obtained a rare ingredient (wendigo plasm) and wants your help with a very powerful experiment.  If you can bring him three flying snails, he can make you an elixir that permanently reverses a creature's gravity.

Dwellers of the Great Necropolis

If you approach Vangol* from the lowlands, you cannot miss the City of the Dead.

It is the spine of a giant, a low ridge of conical spires and broad-shouldered mausoleums.  The city is built on top of a huge deposit of very dark limestone on the south end of the Plain of Jars.  As the limestone was mined, it was used to build crypts above ground while hollowing out the catacombs beneath the city.

The stone comes in all of the colors of a midnight rainbow: dark blue, rusted red, somber ochre, basilisk green.  But the color is only apparent up close.  From a distance, it all blends into a slate grey.

Within sight of the City of the Dead, all fire burns white, entirely devoid of color.  It's also dimmer: a torch only illuminates 20' (instead of 30').  This is also true of the sun, which is why the Valley of the Dead always lies in half-shade and the Necropolis is so chilly.

The sacred dead (loyal to Ashrune) cannot be turned while they remain within sight of the Necropolis.

*Vangol is sort of like a cross between ancient Egypt, Mongolia, and Russia, except with frozen tundra.  It's inhabited by a bunch of powerful-but-usually-warring clans.  They're just about the only place in Centerra that practices mass paganism outside of the reach of the Church (who hates Vangol).

Ashrune

The pagan fire gods are said to be titans who were born inside volcanoes (now dormant in this late age) and now dwell inside their temple, if they have one.  Ashrune is no different.  Her dormant volcano is Mount Ashrune, located to the north, about two weeks away by foot.

Ashrune's head was cut off and stolen by the King of Bees.  Despite this, the goddess persists, still seeking her missing head and awaiting the Rekindling of the Deep Fires.

(Fire god statistics as HD 16 titans.)

The Covenant

The Vangolians have made a covenant with Ashrune, the goddess of Death and Birth.  (Digression: pagan fire gods are usually paired concepts.  So they might have a god whose domain includes both Chaos and Law simultaneously.)

The Great Necropolis, also called the City of the Dead, is where all of the kings of Vangol are buried.  They will arise from their burial at the End of Days, with all of their glory and past splendor.  Everything that they were buried with will still be at their side: all of their horses, wives, gold, and mansions.

The Necropolis Kings are the final authority of who is and isn't a king in Vangol.

Commoners can hope for resurrection at the End of Days as well, but they have only two ways to ensure it:

• Become a spouse or servant of a Vangolian king, and be buried alive at their funeral.
• Serve the Necropolis for at least half of your lifespan.

Of the two options, the second is by far the most common.  The necropolis attracts the living: the desperate runaway, the aimless poet, the heartbroken lover, the disposed princeling, the miserable, the pathetic, and the damned.

These poor souls journey to the Necropolis in order to serve in the kingdom of Ashrune, in the hopes that they might be resurrected in new, golden bodies at the end of time.  

But not every servant of the Necropolis had a wretched past.  In Vangol, when a noble commits a crime that is worthy of death, they are not executed, but are instead sent to the Necropolis to live out the rest of their days.

Although the "living" servants of the necropolis have metabolisms and heartbeats, they are considered dead by all Vangolians.  Though their bodies live, their souls have died--or at least, they have undergone that subtle transformation that recolors a soul when its body dies.  It's a type of undeath that most adventurers are unfamiliar with: a living body with a dead soul.

Foreign scholars sometimes describe them as "dead by adoption".

Among the "living" servants, children are sometimes conceived.  These children are very precious to the vulture-headed clerics of the Necropolis.  They are taken from their mothers at the age of 3, to be used for purposes unknown.

of all the pictures on this page
this is closest to what I actually imagine

A City Proper

The Necropolis is laid out like a living city, even though it isn't used as one.  There's still restaurants, for example.  No one uses these restaurants, but then you must remember that the Necropolis is going to be exalted into an actual metropolis at the End of Days.  It will be the only living city in the world, and all the crypts will open and the newly resurrected will start looking for the best tea shop in the universe (which will be conveniently down the gold-paved street).

But even though it looks like a living city, it isn't.  Most of the buildings are sealed tombs, crafted to be appropriate to their occupants.

Dead bakers are buried in faux bakeries, with a sarcophagus in the great oven.  Dead guardsmen are buried in garrison-mausoleums, in coffin-bunkbeds.  And you can probably figure out who is entombed inside that windowless, obsidian palace.

The Docks of Obolov

The Necropolis has a harbor called the Docks of Obolov.  This is because the Necropolis still has an economy.  It needs to receive dead kings and accept new acolytes.  It needs to build new crypts, and while stone can be quarried beneath the city, everything else must be imported.  And although the "living" servants of the Necropolis don't eat much, they still require food.  And so merchant ships still visit.

The unsanctified masses are not allowed in the Necropolis, although they are allowed to occupy the docks for as long as they want.  For this reason, the long stone piers of the Necropolis have been expanded into a maze of boardwalks and piers.  The Docks of Obolov are a tiny town unto themselves, and even have their own permanent residents.

The Necropolis Kings pay for their needed supplies with burial goods.  The accounts are settled each year in late autumn.  A representative from the merchant company will be called into an audience with a polished lich, who will begrudgingly hand over a bag of rubies, the smallest fraction of the Necropolis' vast wealth.

The Great Necropolis also trades in certain intangibles, most famously courage, which is bought and sold like any other commodity.  (Treat this as bonuses and penalties on saves vs fear.)  They'll also purchase memories (Treat this as XP drain), but will not sell you any.

Skeletons and Other Citizens

There are a lot skeletons in the Necropolis.  They paint their bones in different patterns to denote identity, rank, and affiliation.  Stripes and spots, blacks and bright reds.

The skeletons here are intelligent, but cannot speak.  They communicate through a slate and chalk, which about 25% of them carry.

Visitors who would enter the city must be accompanied by a skeleton guide at all times. 

There are plenty of "living" servants as well, most of whom are hard at work.

Plundering the Necropolis

The Necropolis may of course be plundered like any other city-megadungeon.  The outer sprawl is suitable for level 1 parties, while the deep interior can be as high-level as your campaign needs dictate.

An especially eager patron would be the Church of Hesaya, who would love to damage a pagan stronghold such as this.

Serving the Necropolis

The players can also serve the Necropolis.  Even a city of skeletons has needs: food for the servants that still eat, metal for tools, craftsmen for repairs.  Players could also quest for Ashrune's missing head, chase down those asshole necromancers, and be sent to gently capture some rogue undead so it can be reconsecrated and laid back down in its proper tomb.  If you want epic level stuff, there's always the option to reactivate Mount Ashrune, thereby doubling the number of active volcanoes on Centerra.

But "going forth and questing" also misses the best opportunities to explore and humanize this huge city-dungeon.  It's a city with as much intrigue as any other city (although some of that intrigue takes centuries to resolve).  Players could steal from one mummy at the behest of another, help a vain lich conduct a ceremony that will restore her beauty, figure out which skeleton (out of the thousands) has gone rogue, lose their bodies via taxation and earn them back while ghosts, and/or help a mummy remember who he was in life, and which tomb is his.

Also, the first reward any adventurer gets in the Necropolis is a posh tomb, built to their specifications.  The players might balk at that, but what if we throw in some mummified houris?

DM Tip: If the players want to play as skeletons, this is the place that they will call home.  Also, I think Daniel Dean said at one point that if your setting doesn't have a city run by skeletons it's basically worthless, and I've been quietly fretting about that for months.  I guess I can rest a little easier now.

The Princesses of Vlannistrog

The Vlannistrog Dynasty buried over 200 princesses over it's 200 year reign.  The Vlannistrog patriarchs refused to bury their dead in the same place as their hated enemies, and so they eschewed the Great Necropolis in order to bury their princesses in a separate, secret crypt, hidden nearby in the Valley of the Dead.  

That location was lost to time, until a necromancer known as Helzai discovered the crypt.  Away from the protections of the Necropolis, she was able to plunder it entirely.  

She is now possessed of a great fortune and a small army of 200 princess wights.  She has only surfaced once, in order to offer her services as a mercenary company, but her current location and intentions are unknown.

Decay

The great weakness of the undead is their inability to repair themselves.  

This is not the same thing as fragility.  A skeleton is not fragile.  In most respects, it is more durable than a human.  But sunlight weakens the bones, microfractures add up to irreparable breaks, and pieces go missing and are never found.

For example, zombies make poor fieldhands because they invariably collect injuries that eventually render them unusable.

For this reason, the dwellers of the Necropolis chose their actions carefully.  They have forges and juggernauts, but these things are rarely active.  The dwellers spend most of their time waiting, watching from behind window curtains (to keep out the dirt).

Encounters In the Necropolis

Servant of the Necropolis

Stats as a normal level 1 human, except that they count as undead.  Each one is capable of making a deathblow (1/day) with a consecrated dagger that they all carry.  If this deathblow hits, it does 3d6 damage and the servant dies immediately.  One turn later, they arise as a skeleton of the Necropolis.

Servants with 8 HP are blessed by Ashrune and carry a vulture on their shoulder.  They can cast halflife 1/day.  (Save or have your current HP cut in half.)

Favored Servant of the Necropolis

Same as a HD 2 servant of the Necropolis, except that if the favored servant dies (for any reason), they immediately arise as a HD 3 skeleton, a HD 3 zombie (that lacks a skeleton), a HD 3 skin kite, and a HD 3 ghost.  The ghost is capable of both possession or directing the other three units, who are otherwise mindlessly aggressive.  If the favored servant triumphs in the defense of the Great Necropolis, the ghost will order the zombie and the skin kite to destroy each other, then possess the skeleton, becoming a skeletal hero of the Necropolis.

Servants with 14 or more HP are blessed by Ashrune and carry a vulture on their shoulder.  They can cast halflife 2/day.  (Save or have your current HP cut in half.) 

Skeleton of the Necropolis

Stats as normal skeleton, except intelligent, ambitious, and very, very patient.  Incapable of speech, but 25% of them carry a piece of chalk and a slate for this purpose.  They crumble into dust when they leave sight of the Necropolis, geographically.  (This is why they have built the Tower of the Beckoning Finger so tall.)  They paint their bones in tribal patterns.

Skeleton Hero of the Necropolis

HD 4 Armor as chain Scimitars 1d8/1d8

Move as human Int as human Morale 7

*Double damage from bludgeoning.

*Each held scimitar grants +2 AC vs arrows.

*Counterattack: Whenever someone makes a melee attack against the skeletal hero and misses, the skeletal hero makes a free attack against them.

There are rumors of skeletal champions with HD 6, four arms (and four scimitars and four attacks), and the ability to cast wall of fire twice per day.

Shade of the Necropolis

HD 4 Armor as chain Claws 1d10 + shading

Fly as vulture Int as psychopath Morale 10

*Semi-Incorporeal: Half damage from non-magical attacks.

*Shading: If you fail a save against a claw attack, your world becomes filled with a howling black fog.  You cannot see beyond 10'.  You cannot hear normal speech beyond 10' or shouting beyond 30'.  You cannot remember more than 1 year ago.  This curse lasts until you decapitate a living humanoid in a ceremony dedicated to Ashrune.

*True Form: Creatures with darkvision or true seeing can see the shade's true form (not just an ebony skeleton wreathed in smoke).  It's true form is much worse, and those who witness it must immediately make a save or flee in fear for 1d6 rounds.

Clerics of the Necropolis

Stats are normal clerics of level whatever.  You'll recognize them by their vulture heads.  They can learn halflife as a level 2 spell, and mass halflife as a level 6 spell.  They can learn the curse of Ashrune as a level 3 spell, which causes a creature that fails a save to go straight to hell when they die, regardless of their actions in life (treat as a curse).

Fly Swarms of the Necropolis

These bone-white flies are ubiquitous within the Necropolis.  You'll find swarms of them in every street and every room.  They boil up from around your feet like kicked dust.  In combat, they attack as a 2 HD swarm that bites for 1d6 damage, but they only attack unnatural forms of life (demons, golems, summoned creatures).  The undead are considered natural here.  For living adventurers, the flies won't even land on you.  They pass you by like a breeze.

Tales of Abasinia

The Five People You Might Meet in Abasinia

1. A dust eater.  Smears of brightness stain his lips.  His rags whip in the wind as he slouches between the pyramids.  He will beg for money, or steal it.  If you command him to lick the dust from your feet, he will have no choice but to obey.  That is his curse.  You may beat him (and most do), but if you kill him, he will return to haunt you.  That is also his curse.

2. A wagoneer.  His wagon is painted a monochrome white, except for three brown lines in a circle, which represent the lines of ones palm.  His camels have delicate brown eyes; his guards sing to them as they walk.  The camels can drink seawater safely.  In a locked chest, the wagoneer keeps a dozen mandrogi; they set up camp each night, rustling between the wheels.

3. Nameless.  They have forgotten who they are.  You will forget them when they leave (unless they wrong you).  They are cursed by a member of the Princemaker's Guild.  They usually have a book they carry that suffices as their memory.  They might be an assassin, whose book tells them who to kill. It may even tell them why.

4. Swordmaster.  They pierce their ears with tassels for their victories. They duel each other when they meet.  A crippling defeat (struck three times without striking your opponent once) means that a swordsman must become the slave of the victor until the next full moon.  Most of them travel with a painter.

5. A prophet.  They follow the laws of the Celestial Lottery.  They read the secret messages of the sand and the leaves.  Sometimes they go to a certain city and give a great fortune to an apparently-random cabbage seller.  Sometimes they approach a seller of dogs and offer to become their slave.  Sometimes they kill.  Through all of these seemingly random actions, they are never questioned, never arrested. It is understood that they are following the secret commands of Heaven.  Sometimes they wander into other countries, where they are executed as madmen.  It is known that anyone who impersonates a prophet is stuck down by cruel miracles.

No Booze
Abasinia is a dry nation.  Intoxicants are forbidden.  Even delago (basically tobacco) is punishable by the removal of fingers.  The only exception is the dust of the lotus, which is eaten in great amounts.

It is forbidden to create an image (e.g. painting) that uses perspective.  If a creature that is "near" is larger while a creature that is "far" is smaller, is possible for a fly to be larger than Heaven; this is an abomination.

Fashion is usually simple and severe, tending towards whites, blacks, and pale colors.

Shangalore and the Burning City

Once, Abasinia had a different capitol.  An entourage from the Church in the south came, and stated that their god (the Sky God, the Truth, the Authority) was greater than the gods of Abasinia (the Celestial Serpents).  The local priests disagreed.

They went before the king to contest their gods.  The foreign priests prayed for a sign of the superiority of the Sky God, and they were given one.

The High Temple of Abasinia sank into the ground, and fire erupted from between the cobblestones.  The whole city burned.

The people fled with ashen feet, and created a new capitol near the coast.  The new capitol is called Shangalore.

The Princemaker's Guild struck the old city's name from the Celestial Books.  It's name was forgotten from the mind's of men, for the safety of all.

The old city, the Nameless City, still burns.

Religion in Abasinia

It is a syncretic mix of the Church's teachings and the local Celestialism.  In the years since founding the city of Shangalore, Abasinia has since distanced itself from the Church, and now exists as an independent religion.

Qanats and the Secret Highway

The great city exists in a shallow valley.  It's vast fields and farms are watered by qanats.

The greatest and longest of these qanats is called the Secret Highway.  It was dug over three generations, and runs over 100 miles between Shangalore to the Mountains of Consequence.

If you do not wish to walk atop the dunes, you may walk along the Highway.  The toll is too steep for many travelers, but it is safe and the water is cold.

Princemaker's Guild

In Abasinia, the power of Names is still known and practiced.

The Namesmiths of the Guild create new Names and write them in the Celestial Books (which exist only in the wind--the Namesmiths write in the air with their moving fingers, and then move on).

If you are given a Name, and speak it, everyone will recognize it.  It is impossible to fake a Celestial Name--it doesn't have the same resonance.

Nobles and other people of import are given names as rewards.  Other Names are used as currency--some merchants trade Names between themselves instead of promissory notes.  As a form of currency, they are subtle, weightless, and discreet.

The least of Names is worth about 1,000 gp, while the greatest names are worth many tens of thousands.

Names are both a form of titles as well as a form of currency.  They cannot be stolen, only given away willingly and without duress.  Upon death, they might transfer to a designated inheritor or revert to the Princemaker's Guild.

To the east is Charcorra.

To the south is the Sea of Fish.

Undead Psychology

art by reau

There's no such thing as mindless undead.  When you raise the dead, you are not puppeting them, not quite.  You are inviting an alien soul to occupy the body, one that the reanimation spell has selected for certain mental traits: usually obedience, foremost.

Necromancers

Most undead are created intentionally, by necromancers.

Necromancy is illegal in most civilized places.  Partly because of the danger involved when a necromancer loses control of their creations, but also because of the taboo against disturbing the dead and defacing their bodies.  (Most reanimation rituals involve carving profane runes on the skull, a practice that has echoes in golemetry.)

When a necromancer dies, flip a coin.  On a heads, their undead go berserk, attacking every living thing in the area.  On a tails, they immediately devour their necromancer's corpse (even skeletons will masticate a corpse, and paint all of their bones red in the necromancer's blood) before attacking all living things (as if a heads had been flipped).  It usually takes 6 minutes for 1 zombie to finish eating/destroying their necromancer's corpse, during which they will take no action to defend themselves.

Contrary to popular belief, most necromancers are not gaunt, ashen men who live in tombs (though there are certainly many necromancers who match that description).  Many necromancers who practice life-stealing magics are corpulent and jolly, swollen with stolen vitalities.

And of course, there is the story of Hamar Nesmith, a plantation owner who was discovered to be a necromancer only when he suddenly died (runaway wagon) and all 51 of his "field hands" rushed into his mansion in order to devour his body, before attacking the nearby town of Claymere and killing all of its inhabitants.

Skeletons

Skeletons are often considered mindless, because their behavior is extremely constrained.  Basically, the rules of "mindless" skeleton behavior are this: Take no initiative, and fulfill every command in the simplest possible way.

Because of this, you don't see any of the tricky behavior in skeletons that is so common in devils or genies--subversion of an improperly worded command.

But just because skeletons are incapable of subtlety in their behavior doesn't mean that they are incapable of subtle and complex thoughts.  Their behavior is bound, but their minds are not.  Anyone casting ESP on a reanimated skeleton will find that the new soul--the proxy soul--is a raving, fragmented thing that is keenly aware of its servitude and its abasement.

Most skeletons detest their necromancers with a hot, seething hatred.  But being unable to speak or even alter the way they act--they have absolutely no way of expressing it.

That is not quite true, of course.  Skeletons sometimes express their hatred by staring at the necromancer, or standing too close when the necromancer sleeps, or standing slightly farther away.

Zombies

Zombies are the minds of ravenous animals.  They are not mindless, but they are stupid.

They are famous for walking into fires in pursuit of their prey, or into injurious circumstances without regard.  For this reason, they are considered mindless.

But zombies never charge headlong into circumstances that are immediately lethal.  They don't walk off cliffs or into blenders.  So there must be some discrimination in their minds, between things are injurious and things that are immediately lethal.

So there is not much self-preservation in a zombie, but still more than none.  In fact, the behavior of a zombie is what you'd expect from something that knows it is possessing a temporary body--something disposable and worth risking.

Lich

Do you suppose that a lich dies as soon as it reaches lichdom?  Why should so much power cause a creature to die?

In fact, a wizard who becomes a lich continues to live on.  At least for a little while.

As soon as a wizard becomes a lich, they gain perfect control over their body.  They dictate when their heart beats.  They command their cells to divide, and their liver to store sugar.  Arterial tension is simple, blood pH only slightly less so.

A lich's body no longer runs on autopilot.  It runs on full manual control.  This is the source of their great strength and durability.  Stab a man in the chest, and it is like a river spilling its banks.  Stab a lich in the chest, and it is like disturbing a line of ants.  It can quench the flow.

But with this power comes tedium.  A lich's mind is well-suited to managing the billions of sundry operations that occur every hour within the body, each essential to well being.  But the incessant demand of this management comes mistakes, hastiness, abandonment.  Cells forget to make proteins.  Cerebrospinal fluid fails to be cycled.  A small war in the upper respiratory canal is abandoned to its own devices, and bacteria devour the living tissue.

And when the systems start failing.  They snowball into each other, cascade, and collapse.  Sometimes the whole process takes less than 24 hours, and at the end of it all, the new lich is dead.

But of course, there are the exceptions.  Be wary of the Lich Who Yet Lives.

Lich Pychology

The prime example is the lich.  After a lifetime of ambition and eldritch success, a wizard may become a undead creature of undeniable power.  When a lich glares at the sun, it dims.  When a lich feels frustration, a whole nation trembles in their sleep.

So that is the great frustration of liches: nothing brings them any enjoyment anymore.

And there is much to be frustrated about.  Although liches reach one of their goals (immortality) and many others besides, it brings them no joy.  The part of them that allowed them to enjoy those victories died along with their body.  Apples turn to ashes in their mouths.  They look at the face of their best friend and feel nothing except recognition.

Enjoyment and displeasure atrophy.  They cannot enjoy a meal or a symphony.  They pursue their goals, their happiness with all of the devotion of an addict, except without any of the succor when they achieve it.

Some liches are able to rekindle that flame of humanity: to return to life.  Liches that actually achieve this are called Lords Revenant, but they are beyond the scope of this post.

And so liches become devotees of themselves.  Combined with a frequent contempt for the gods (who have tried to stop them so many times and always failed), liches raise a skeletal middle finger at all of the pantheons and become worshipers of themselves.

Nearly every lich has a shrine to their old life somewhere.  Their worship may be literal, with prayers, mythology, and rituals that pay homage to key moments in their former lives.  This is also why they build phylacteries out of objects that they once held most dear.  Childhood toys, favorite books, a father's cap, etc.

Liches have a difficult time caring about anything, even their own destruction.  All liches die with a shrug and a sigh.

Ghouls

I've previously written about how people become ghouls. Like liches, ghouls gradually segue into undeath from life.  The process is a bit like dementia.  They lose themselves bit by bit--the soul decays before the body does.

But unlike liches, ghouls still have attachments.  They can still enjoy the world--and they do, with great succor.

When you encounter a ghoul in a dungeon, there is a 5% chance that they fed recently.  If so, they behave much like living people.  They tend to be sarcastic but good-natured, and they can be reasoned with, and they can often provide information about the dungeon.

Digression: ghouls eat flesh, but they do not digest.  The meat turns to dust in their stomach, which they then regurgitate.  You can identify ghoul haunts by the ashes that collect in the corners.  They do not starve, but if they do not eat for several days, they become bestial and half-mad with hunger, unable to do anything except seek flesh.  They especially prefer old corpses, as long as they are fleshy.  In extreme cases, they engage in auto-cannibalism, and gnaw their limbs down to the bone.  They do not starve--they just feel like it.

Ghouls are known for two things: their ravenous hunger, and their great senses of humor when they are not ravenously hungry.  They are especially known for their well-developed senses of irony.

The great playwright Moachim was a ghoul.  He wrote his plays, including the famous satire The Queen's Pig on the walls of the Blachenrood Mausoleum.  Moachim actually survived to see his play performed several times before he was destroyed (he couldn't resist eating the actresses who played the Queen).

Ghouls retain their old personalities, but they stop caring about things.  They remember their best friends from when they were alive--they just stop caring.

Apathy, hunger, and humor.  The unlife of a ghoul.

art by VegasMike

More Bug Collector Ecosystems

This is a continuation of my ecosystems for the bug collector class.  You can't be a bug collector without bugs to collect, can you?  Detailed here are the Desert, City, and Tundra ecosystems.

by Bobertbra

Ecosystem: Desert

Desert Badge: +2 to save against blindness and or light effects.

1. Ankheg Larva: Drums the ground when pinched.  90% chance of summoning an angry ankheg (HD 3) in 1d6 minutes.
2. Clockwork Antibeetle: When thrown on a construct or golem, paralyzes it for 1 round
3. Garrulous Locust: Above ground, will summon a swarm of locusts that grab you and fly away.  Usually drop you off at the nearest humanoid settlement, but there is a 1-in-6 chance that they instead drop you off somewhere perilous.
4. Goro Beetle: If ingested, as flesh to stone, except that it lasts for 24 hours.  Also works as a stone to flesh spell if fed to a statue, after 24 hours.
5. Horsefly Devil:  Might actually be a tiny devil.  If a ranged attack roll is successful (20' max), target is blinded and takes 1 damage each turn until it spends a round swatting the horsefly devil.  Only works on targets that rely on a single pair of eyes.
6. Mummy Bug: Cures a magical disease (such as mummy rot) in exchange for 100 gold.
7. Nubalidia Moth: As detect magic.
8. Rust Monster Larva: As a rust monster's rust attack, once.
9. Sacred Scarab: If a ranged attack roll is successful (20' max), bites the target for 1d4 damage immediately, and again on the next two subsequent rounds.  Also incredibly valuable to most mummies, who will bargain in order to possess it.
10. Sacred Sand Lion: Throwable up to 20'  All creatures within 10' must save or be sucked into the sand, dust, or loose dirt that they are standing on.  Only sucks people down 3', so humans will be stuck up to their waist, while dogs will suffocate unless swiftly rescued.

Ecosystem: City

City Badge: You get +1 to hit with quarterstaffs and butterfly nets.

1. Assassin's Earwig: If placed in a lock, has a 90% chance to unlock it, and a 10% to crush itself to death in there, jamming the lock.
2. Business Bug: If eaten, sobers you up immediately if you are drunk. If you are suffering from a mind-affecting poison, grants a new save against that poison.
3. Doodle Bug: If eaten, immediately causes the appearance of leprosy without any actual disability.  Lasts until alcohol is consumed.
4. Ghost-eater Wasp: Does 1d12 damage to the nearest incorporeal undead within 20'.
5. Jimmy Bug: Picks the pocket of a target within 20', and then returns the item back to you.  95% success rate.  Cannot carry things that weigh more than half a pound.
6. Otyugh Larva: Squeals when pinched.  50% chance of summoning an angry otyugh in 1d6 minutes.
7. Powder Bug: If eaten, gets you tremendously high.  Can be sold for 10g in most cities, if fresh.  Effects are euphoria, immunity to negative emotion effects, mild hallucinations, and 1d6 Wis damage.  
8. Spy Fly: If eaten, you see all of the things that it witnessed in the last hour.  Most bug collectors will tie a string to it, or glue it to something they can leave laying around innocuously.
9. Termite Queen: Destroys a shack (or wooden object shack-sized or smaller) in 1 day by devouring all of the wooden components.  Destroys a cottage in 1 week (50% chance of being noticed and stopped halfway through).  Destroys a mansion in 1 month (80% chance of being noticed and stopped halfway through).  Multiple bugs do not increase chance of success.
10. Unlucky Moth: Circles your head.  The next time you would be hit by a small projectile (arrow, slingstone) the moth intercepts it and dies, sparing you the attack.

Ecosystem: Tundra

Tundra Badge: Your max HP is increased by 3.

1. Cruel Angel Worm: When placed on someone's face, bites them for 1 damage whenever they knowingly tell a lie.
2. Glacier-Tongue Weevil: As grease, except the produces a thin layer of ice instead of literal grease.
3. Ice Needle Caterpillar.  All creatures in a 15' cone take 1d6 piercing damage (save for half) as the caterpillar is squeezed until it explodes in a shower of shards.
4. Lunar Moth: As commune.
5. Merciful Moth: If a person died from cold damage, or from freezing to death, this moth has a 50% chance of returning them to life.  They'll be a 1 HP and require a week's rest before they're capable of any exertion (such as walking).  This works even on very old frozen corpses.  If the 50% chance fails, it just creates rotten meat.
6. Mother's Merry Worm: If placed on snow or ice, will attempt to make an pseudo-igloo and then hibernate inside it.  This takes 1 hour, and if the hibernating worm is removed, it is big enough for 6 people.
7. Proxy Moth: Turns an equal amount of ice into ~1000 silver coins.  Lasts for 3 days before turning back into ice (or water, if the temperature is warm enough).
8. Remorhaz Larva: Releases pungent pheromone when pinched.  20% chance to summon an angry remorhaz in 1d6 hours.
9. Remorhaz Pupa: Melts all ice or snow in a 10' radius.  Does 2d6 damage (save for half) to all ice- or cold-based creatures in the same area (including creatures that are weak against fire).
10. White Widow Spider: As the mend spell.  Loves to repair domestic tools.

Coming Soon (Coming Eventually): Ocean, Mountain, Jungle, Swamp