“Creatures of the grave. Not allowed a true rest, they find themselves tormented in death, oft due to their inability to find peace at the end of their life. What a sick, twisted existence.”

Necrophages
{ Also known as “undead,” “blighted,” “the living dead,” etc. }

Travellers must not only beware the perils posed by man and beast, but also what becomes of them after death—for not all find rest. Scholarly scrolls and drunkards’ tales alike can attest to this, describing cadavers that rise and seek prey to feast on. Fresh carcasses stand in defiance of reason, uncaring of the grievous wounds that decorate their pallid skin. Even with the passage of time, long after their rotten flesh has thinned and exposed the bone beneath, they advance, entrails and jawbones swaying with each step.

Throughout the ages, the names for these entities have morphed, and even from culture to culture, the name often varies simply based on their appearance. Yet, one particular term has persisted through the ages, instilling fear in both villagers and caravan-goers alike: the necrophage, meaning “eater of the dead” in an ancient tongue. This was chosen for their enigmatic hunger, as it was observed that not only did necrophages prey on the living, but on the dead too. Breaking into crypts and coffins and tearing flesh from freshly buried bodies, they hunger endlessly, ravenous for more and more. Bereft of thought, feeling, or any true sentience, they shamble toward their next victim. It’s this undying, unrelenting hunger that drives them forth, clawing their way out of graves, wandering across abandoned battlefields without end.

The Blight

None can say for certain what spawned it or how to rid it from the world. It persists throughout the realm, deterred by neither the sweltering heat of the Ashlands nor the blinding blizzards of the Amafell mountains. Even the depths of the sea are not free of it: the Blight. Though illicit necromancy can also raise the dead to walk once more, it is this natural phenomenon that fuels the perpetual plague of undead. Not even are beasts free from this horror after death, as stories of creatures roaming long after death, still bearing their wounds, are all too common.

Should the dead try to claw their way out, almost no site of burial is safe. Even the most modest cemeteries are subject to this danger. But it is sites of atrocities and tragedies—mass plagues, bloody battles, and acts of intense violence—that become the most potent breeding grounds for necrophages. Corpses do not stir on their own. Rather, the innate anima present within every living creature can become corrupted after death, festering with negative emotions born from the circumstances of its passing. A peaceful demise in one’s sleep, or even the slow death from an illness, rarely gives rise to a necrophage. No, what spawns a necrophage is a death of cruel suffering. One of torment and pain that would corrupt its inner anima so deeply that it would seek to lash out against the living.

To Rest In Peace 

Though an individual necrophage may not be much of a threat, its ability to spread the Blight to other corpses can quickly make for peril. It takes just one corpse among the dead to rise as a necrophage for a horde to quickly form. Battlegrounds left untended are the perfect spawning ground for necrophages. A proper burial can be enough to prevent this, though: coffins are typically reinforced enough to prevent something from breaking in or out, and buried much too deep for a necrophage to dig to or from. However, proper funerals are costly, more than justifiably so for much of the realm. 

To that end, unique burial traditions have developed over many millennia that suit the respective places they are born from, attempts to curb the spread of the Blight in more reliable ways: the Valks are known to burn their dead to ash, while Stonerunners leave their dead to be scavenged and naturally decay under the stars. During wartime, corpse-haulers may also be employed: people that take on the unpleasant job of cleaning up the dead and giving them proper burial rites. Although the job is temporary for most, during times of plague, famine, and other mass casualty events, corpse-haulers are soon to follow. As well, those carrying a Fable’s blessing may take extreme precautions and consecrate gravesites, leaving offerings and asking for those Fables to watch over the body.

Appearance

Though oft little more than rotted corpses, shambling like the marionettes of a poor puppeteer, necrophages tend to adapt to the environs of their ‘resting’ place. Fallen warriors don the armour they were slain in, and pick up the same armaments they and their comrades did in life. With iron grips and chanced, graceless swings, they roam, seeking retribution. Unlucky rangers and their bestial prey become enveloped with the undergrowth they bled out in, their bodies becoming more robust with bark and bough. Vines weave in and out of their cadaverous forms, adorned with the flora and thorns they were submerged in. Similarly, seaweed, corals, and even marine life embed themselves in the pallid, bluish flesh of the drowned. 

Beneath those specificities, though, necrophages are ultimately just corpses. Empty eye sockets, soft tissue rotted away, a state of general disarray—these are the qualities of the reanimated. “Fresher” necrophages appear akin to a body post mortem, but quickly lose flesh as they actively decompose. This leads to an array of appearances, even near-skeletal if a corpse is left to wander for long enough.

Scattered rumours exist that many don't dare to believe, of untold powers and ghastly, chilling sights. Whispers of sorcerers who trifled with volatile, fickle magic only to end up torn asunder by their own spells… but, of course, refusing to stay dead. Their mastery of arcana lingers in their husks, even if the souls inhabiting them had long since left. Worse yet – borne out of mass graves of soldiers, great hulking monstrosities that lumber through the night, composed of countless corpses whose flesh and bone have melded and become one.

Behaviour

When charting a course, there are certain locales that veteran travellers know to steer clear of, lest they cross paths with roving hordes of undead. Rising from battlefields or the rubble of burnt homesteads, necrophages wander tirelessly in search of corpses to devour. Or more preferably, living mortals, so that they may meet the same fate; for flesh is to be consumed, whether it be torn from the living or from the dead. Some stories also claim that necrophages lie in wait – dormant yet vigilant, within crypts or among nature. Unmoving for epochs, hungering for the heedless. In all things, they are motivated by it, this hunger. Necrophages cannot quite ‘think’ or form thoughts like mortals, as they are not sentient beings. Yet still, enough mindless undead together can be the end for even the most intrepid warrior.

Written by Electric, Tidepod, and ShinyBlue

DM Guide

Behaviour

At its core, the Blight is not a disease. It is not transferred from the dead to the living, though this myth persists - after all, necrophage bites man, man dies with negative emotions bubbling to the brim, and from that grave, he rises undead. It is a natural phenomenon innate to corpses, and though the myth may be propagated and taken as common belief. Necrophages will however try to bite and eat flesh; this is because living flesh contains anima, and they must consume this in order to persist and stave off decomposition. The longer they go without consuming, the more decrepit and worn they become. They may also take to consuming flesh from corpses, but this is not out of hunger: instead, this is their manner of spreading the Blight where it may not exist already, thus creating the persistent plague of undead wherever corpses may be. If left hungry for too long, necrophages may even enter a dormant state, falling into a stupor, lying in wait until they sense fresh anima nearby. This is why long-abandoned crypts or dungeons may still be infested by necrophages.

Necrophages navigate the world using what remains of their senses of smell, hearing, and touch. They cannot speak due to their lack of sentience, mainly verbalizing with groans, gurgles, and feral snarls. As soft tissue is the first to start decomposing, most rise with empty sockets where their eyes would have been; in certain instances, though, they may rise before the eyes have fully collapsed, granting limited, unreliable vision, too. Most commonly, necrophages will drift toward the smell of mortals and are particularly attracted to loud or sudden noises. If something smells decomposed and decrepit enough, they will largely ignore it and treat it as another undead. It’s due to their limited palette of senses that necrophages may spend so long ambling aimlessly, but once they do pick up a scent or sound, they are relentless.

Encounter Design

Generally, undead roam and attack in hordes. The concept with this is simple: strength in numbers. Necrophages in hordes may be weak individually—dying with one or two hits, having minimal HP, outputting minimal damage—but it is the onslaught of them that enforces the danger of an encounter. However, it is not all too uncommon to see a loner either. The number of undead thrown at players in an encounter is entirely up to the DM, as anything will be reasonable within the right area (e.g. an abandoned house may only contain one, but a cemetery may have a dozen). The strength and speed of a necrophage is also relatively variable. A necrophage shouldn’t feel like a “boss” or be unnecessarily strong; instead, the danger of a necrophage encounter should largely come from the idea of hordes or the more powerful variants. When using undead animals, there may be more unique situations regarding their statblocks and behaviour; that is detailed further below.

For their appearance and behaviour, undead should typically appear spooky, unnerving, and mindless. They are creatures that would fit perfectly in both horror themed events and hack-and-slash events. Their appearance is simple enough; as reanimated corpses, they look exactly as such: as corpses. DMs may take inspiration from zombie media when detailing the look and behaviour of their necrophages, however, fully-skeletal forms are not permissible. The undead must have a reasonable amount of flesh to let it move around; a pile of bones will simply be physically unable to move. Necrophages have particular weaknesses and behaviours that can both guide them to find players and also may be exploited by players. When determining the outcome of actions to do with these (e.g. their attraction to sudden noises or their docileness toward the smell of decomposing matter) the outcome may be determined either freeform or by INT: Perception and DEX: Stealth rolls, for example. 

Equipment and Stats

At base, undead will have either no armour or light armour and will attack simply with their hands. These attacks can be made using an Unarmed template, with damage to DM discretion. Clawing attacks may also be attempted, using a Small Blade template with the template’s damage, or /roll attack 3 3. However, necrophages may also wear armour or wield weapons, giving DMs the freedom to use other weapon templates and armour types. Generally, event creatures of this level should not take Block or Evade actions, since the players should not feel as though events are PvP-esque. In specific circumstances, such as major boss fights or particular undead, defense actions may be appropriate. Use your best judgement for the encounter! For instances where stats are needed (e.g. maneuver contests, skill checks/contests from spells, etc.), it is up to the DM what modifier the necrophage(s) will have.

Boons

[Blissful Ignorance] By the virtue of lacking any real sapience, necrophages are effectively immune to spells that seek to manipulate their mind. For example, spells like Paralysis Daemon or Restless Hex would have no effect at all.

[Feeding Frenzy] The moment a necrophage manages to grab and restrain their target, others in the vicinity take notice of the vulnerable prey. As soon as someone is grappled by a necrophage, they become a magnet for the ire of other undead in the near vicinity (Skirmishing distance, for example). Even if they were actively attacking or fighting another target, they will instantly shift their focus onto the restrained target. Should they be attacked by others, their ire will shift to them. Should the target break free, their focus shifts to other targets like before. 

Banes

[Fickle Flesh] Necrophages are susceptible to a number of weaknesses. They are detailed below:

• Fire - Burning undead should be advantageous but not overly so. It kills them quicker, but not instantaneously. Setting a necrophage on fire may present a danger for players themselves, with now-flaming necrophages wandering toward them.
• Silver & Starsilver - As a scourge to the undead, these materials will be more effective against necrophages. This can be reflected however the DM wishes: extra damage, better aim, quicker kills, etc.
• Fabled Effects - At DM discretion, Fabled abilities or effects may also work to ward off or better destroy necrophages.

A conglomerate of man and beast.

Variants

Necrophages may vary in both their behaviour and their level of danger. Some of the common variances for necrophages are listed below, aimed at providing some unique necrophage enemy types that can be utilized in events as mini-bosses, bosses, or simply for variety. 

Carrion

Even beasts may rise from the grave as rotting, decrepit forms of themselves. Frailer animals (e.g. deer, rats, birds) may be weaker in death, while hardier ones (e.g. bears, griffins, wolves) may carry strength similar to what they had in life, paired now with a singular and destructive desire to feed on flesh. An undead creature will retain most of its boons and banes where reasonable, though they may be reflavoured or adjusted by DMs to better suit the undead aesthetic. They are also subject to the boons and banes of undead.

Conglomerates

Some necrophages may be stronger than others, but the true, hulking monstrosity is a necrophage conglomerate. These are large masses of corpses fused together, lumbering around the lands slowly. There are numerous reasons for a conglomerate to come about, but the most typical is undead rising from a mangled mass grave as one figure. These will be much stronger and tankier than a single necrophage, and can be scaled relatively freely; a conglomerate could be three undead fused together, or it could even be twenty. They may even be formed of various animals, or even fusions of animal and man together. For conglomerates, their attacks may do more damage, they may have more HP, and they may even have special, feat-like abilities.

Ruptures

Not all undead are hardy enough to wander forever and consume endlessly—some rise as frail husks, barely able to contain even just the corrupt anima they bear at their inception. For ruptures, the more they consume, the closer they come to their final act. Put simply, these are necrophages that will explode, either upon death or simply at random. Mechanically, they do not need to be strong or have high-damage attacks, since their main ability would be this explosion. When they do explode, this should trigger an AOE effect in either Melee or Skirmishing radius, doing a flat amount of damage that can be Blocked or Evaded. Which radius is chosen, the amount of damage, and the quality of the damage (normal, AP, GP, etc.) is up to DM discretion, fine-tuned to the needs of the encounter. 

Spellhusks

Some undead may even be able to wield the arcane, making them an additional danger. This is a rare phenomenon, simply due to the particular circumstances required: not every mage that dies and rises retains the ability to cast, instead, it is specifically those mages that were afflicted by an arcane leech in life. Though the mortal may perish, the parasite leeching from them does not, consuming any remaining anima even in the grave. Should they rise as a spellhusk, they are able to cast minor spells almost as “muscle memory,” unthinkingly flinging spells the way their fellow undead may mindlessly swing a sword. Spellhusks will be of Mage I (8 anima) or Mage II (14 anima) at most, and are unable to cast 10 anima spells, including Capstones. Their casting modifier is, at most, a +3.

 
Written by Electric, contributions from Fauna team