Industrialized Necromancy in a Setting With No Alignment... "Moüd: City of Bones" is Waiting For You!

The city was once lost to the annals of history, the ruins forgotten in the dust and sand of an ever-expanding desert. The tumbledown stones faded into legend, and the legend became myths spoken of in hushed tones by the nomads who traveled the rim of the empty quarter. It wasn't until someone stumbled across the ruins, and managed to survive the dangers that lurked there, that the place was discovered again. And once it was discovered, the Silver Wraiths descended to claim it as their own.

The guild of necromancers used their arts to reclaim the city, and to rebuild it. Not only that, but it is through their endeavors that the necropolis has become a metropolis where the living and the dead now exist cheek-by-jowl. From the massive sand trains pulled by skeletal mammoths (with gray-robed necromancers sitting in the rib cage as their drovers), to the undead servants who clean the gutters, haul the garbage, care for crops, and more, the bodies of the dead were the tools used to build Moüd into the city it is today.

- Historian Demarcles Heralds, "The History of Great Cities"

The City of Bones has spun the raw stuff of death, turning it into a necessity for life.

For those who didn't see the announcement when it first came out, the second city in my fantasy RPG setting Sundara: Dawn of a New Age is finally out! Moüd: The City of Bones is available in both a Pathfinder Classic version, as well as in a Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition version, whichever suits your style of play. And while this supplement made a bit of a splash when it first dropped, I wanted to talk a bit about some of what's going on between the covers, and how it fits into the overall vision I have for the setting as it develops!

Alternatively, if you're a DIY sort of person when it comes to world building, I'd recommend taking a look at 5 Tips For Creating Fantasy Towns and Cities, which gets into the process of how I've been building all these unique locations!

As usual, if you haven't signed up for my weekly newsletter, consider doing that to get all of my updates and fresh content as it drops. Also, if you missed the first supplement that introduced this new setting Ironfire: The City of Steel is also available both in a Pathfinder Classic and in a Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition format!

Treating Necromancy as Just Another Tool

As I mentioned in What is "Sundara: Dawn of a New Age" All About?, one of the signature elements of this new setting is that it completely jettisons the traditional alignment system. While I have a more detailed guide regarding how that changes the rules (particularly for Pathfinder Classic, where alignment is so intimately tied to a lot of classes, spells, and concepts), the starting goal was to throw out the white hats and black hats that so many players reflexively reach for when they tell their stories.

This should be especially appealing for players who never get to really dig into all that necromancy has to offer, because so much of the really fun stuff comes with an Evil label on the spells.

This desert will strip your hide. Bess, here, don't got to worry none about that.

To lay the foundation for a new perspective on necromancy, I used the Silver Wraiths guild from my 100 Fantasy Guilds supplement that dropped a while back. Traditionally employed to stop random upsurges of undead, and to deal with angry spirits as exorcists (since necromancer is a profession, and one held by a wide variety of classes), the guild also put their magic to use in unexpected ways that have proven quite beneficial to commerce in general. Preserving the corpses of slaughtered animals for long journeys, ensuring they remain fresh, is one example. When the guild has needed to use corpses to complete its tasks (such as disaster relief, search and rescue, and more), they have strict rules about how bodies are acquired, what compensation must be rendered (inspired by The Taskmaster Necromancer), etc.

Moüd takes this idea of necromancy as a tool, which can be used for positive or negative ends, and ratchets it up to an industrial scale.

At first it was because the expertise of an entire guild of necromancers was needed to undo the remnants of a disastrous ritual that had been performed in the depths of the ancient city centuries ago (more on that in the history section), but once the immediate danger was passed the Silver Wraiths found themselves uniquely suited to solving the issues presented by the inhospitable environment surrounding Moüd. Because the city was still located in the midst of a forgotten trade route, but it was far too dangerous for living creatures to make the journey.

To reinvigorate the ancient trade route, the guild used undead beasts of burden to haul first supplies, and then passengers, across the wastes (similar to what I put in The Veterinarian Necromancer). The heat and dangers make labor dangerous for living men, so teams of undead workers handle menial tasks efficiently and effectively. The amount of labor means the guild declared it their new headquarters, which means apprentices are now trained there. The city grows, with new industries and new trade coming in every day, until Moüd is nearly as prosperous now as it was in its ancient days.

Digging Deeper Than Alignment

The key to remember with the City of Bones, and with Sundara as a whole, is that cultural beliefs will vary widely across the setting. For some people, and even some faiths, the body is sacred and must be respected. For others it's an empty husk once the soul has departed, no more holy than any other inert matter. Even individuals within an organization like the Silver Wraiths will have differing views and opinions regarding these subjects.

While I included a tracking system with consequences for over-use of certain spells (and of negative energy in general), that is meant as a way of showing the effects of living people dealing with energies that are antithetical to life; a purely physical toll, rather than a spiritual one. For folks who want necromancy to still have that edge of danger, but who would rather see it treated like radiation poisoning instead of a corruption of the soul.

What, me? No, I haven't been casting necromancy spells today... why are you asking?

The idea is that players and game masters should have the freedom to explore these ideas, traditions, and beliefs through that lens of differing cultural views, rather than with a single, divine rule that decided which actions are inherently good, or inherently evil across all cultures, species, and religions. Because, as so many folks have said, necromancy spells (even the dread and dire ones) could be used as tools to achieve good ends. Even the "harmless" spells could be used to perform some dire deeds, used to seriously hurt people. Alignment isn't concerned with motivation and uses in many cases, though, because things that are inherently good or inherently evil are good or evil in the moment the act is performed rather (or often in addition to) the ends they were meant to achieve.

And in this dawn of a new age, I'd like to see all of us choosing to think outside the boxes we've so often been stuck inside when it came to limits on our stories and character options.

Like, Follow, and Stay in Touch!

That's all for this week's Moon Pope Monday. To stay on top of all my content and releases, make sure you subscribe to my newsletter at the bottom of the page!

Again, for more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my cat noir thriller Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my latest short story collection The Rejects, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now Pinterest as well! To support my work, consider Buying Me a Ko-Fi, or heading to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron. That one helps ensure you get more Improved Initiative, and it means you'll get my regular, monthly giveaways as a bonus!

The Best Zombie Game I Ever Played (Where Nothing Happened)

Thanks to the holiday happenings, my gaming schedule has been all up in the air recently. Because of that, one of the fellows at my table volunteered to run us through a kind of introductory one-shot for a game I've often admired, but never actually gotten to play... All Flesh Must Be Eaten!

Because zombies never really go away, do they?

The experience I had with this system was fast, fun, engaging, and in this case enough to make me plan to add more of it to my future gaming schedule. But I'm getting ahead of myself...

Small Town Evacuation

The game opens in a lowercase "c" Midwestern city; the sort of place that's not quite big enough to be a suburb of a place like New York or Chicago, but which still has a sizable population. The zombies have been steadily growing, but worse than the walking dead are all the other accidents and breakdowns that have been straining the local government at the seams. Keeping people safe is important, but so is providing medical care, finding food, putting out fires, and evacuating the living so the military can come handle the undead infestation.

Which is, of course, when things go awry.

The protagonists seated round the table have become part of the local safe zone established by a task force of national guard, police, and relief workers. A former furniture outlet, the fencing keeps the undead at bay... or has for the past week or so. One of the residents, a Samoan dancer and occasional biker named Leilani has been trying to figure out her next move in this situation. A recent friend she's made is a huge man named Otis, who fixed cars before this all went down, but who is a little lost without his medications and his strict schedule. Lastly, Richard Freeman, an African American firefighter who's been pulling doubles ever since this mess started to prevent his city from burning down.

It's just as one of the engines are dropping off supplies when the unthinkable happens... the fences come down, and the living dead start shambling into the compound!

While the hoses get turned on the horde to slow them down, and small arms fire cuts into the walking corpses, everyone else gets pushed out the rear exit. The area behind the outlet is still clear, and people are scattering. Some of them just run, terrified now that their safety net is gone. Others are trying to figure out where to go, but seem too afraid to stop moving. These three find themselves clustered around a table with maps, and where a radio is broadcasting a public service message.

Residents must get out of the city in the next 24 hours. At that point the armed forces will arrive, and they will begin exterminating the threat. For their own safety, residents need to follow the approved routes to an extraction point. The three of them look at each other, look at the maps, and that's when Richard says, "All right... we'd better hoof our asses over to the hospital."

The Easy Way, or The Hard Way?

Looking at the maps, Otis frowns, nodding to himself as he traces a route with his finger. "This goes right by where I work," he said. "There might be a car there we could borrow?"

With the ruckus going on in the building getting louder, Richard nods, and Otis leads the way down a side street just as the pounding on the doors starts to reverberate. By the time the zombies make it out into the rear of the former warehouse, though, their quarry is several blocks away, out of sight, and hustling along as quietly as they can.

Those weren't there when I left...

They found the auto garage where Otis works (or worked, it's hard to tell) in fairly short order. Tucked off the main roads, the place only has two bays, and a small lot of cars that need to be repaired, as well as a few repo tows. The front door's glass has been smashed in, but Otis unlocked the door with his key, and they stepped inside.

The first thing they smelled was blood. Stepping carefully around the desk, they found the manager on the floor, a gun in his hand, and a hole in his head. Trying to shield Otis from the sight, Richard checked the pistol, then handed it to Leilani when she said she knew how to use it. Otis stepped into the back office, a little shaken, but looking for keys. Sadly, it looked like all the readily drivable cars were gone, and only a few of the ones who needed repairs were still there.

They could get them working, but it would take time.

With the daylight fading, and everyone trying to get to the extraction zones, it wasn't worth the time to wait. The hospital was only a few miles from where they were, and if they cut through the smaller living area of town they could save some time. Even if it meant jumping a few fences.

Stop For Supplies?

While the cadre ducked down side streets that didn't have a lot of traffic, keeping their eyes on windows, and making sure their profiles were small, they opted to duck through a small strip mall. There was a pawn shop and sporting goods store on one end, and a drugstore at the other. With the daylight fading, they had some choices to make.

Well, at least looters aren't gonna eat you.

The drug store was open, the power out. After a quick listen, and a fast check to be sure there weren't any trigger-happy shoppers or shambling horrors, Leilani and Richard split up and snatched the things they were likely going to need; medicine, batteries, bandages, some hand tools, some dense packs of protein bars, water, and a few hefty backpacks to carry them all in. Otis offered to help carry, but he grabbed a couple of comic books for when he got somewhere safe again.

The shopping trip done, they were passing the sporting goods store when they heard the siren's song of weapons. Baseball bats, helmets, reinforced gloves, rifles, handguns... all of it was right there. Provided they could get inside, of course. Richard was looking for the place to kick, when the light inside caught his eye; the emergency power was on. A backup generator meant that the alarm would go as soon as the door got smashed in, or any damage occurred to the wired windows. Leilani took a turn all the same, trying to persuade the locks to open. She had no dice, though, and when something around the corner bumped into a trash can, they didn't stick around to see what was sneaking up their back trail. They were only three quarters of a mile from the hospital, and if they got a move on they might be able to get out of town sooner rather than later.

It's Quiet... A Little TOO Quiet...

Guys... you think that sign's for us?

 As they approached the hospital, the sun was just dipping below the horizon. Up on the roof they could see a helicopter coming in for a landing, the blades just starting to slow. Down on the ground there were half a dozen squad cars with their bubble lights going... but no cops in sight. Not a one. Leaning into a car, Richard checked the radio. Nothing. No one answered signals, and nothing appeared to be going out. Popping the trunk, he found a riot vest, a shotgun, and a brace of shells. Taking a moment to slip into the kevlar, Leilani did a quick circle of the perimeter... all was quiet outside, and nothing was moving inside. As far as she could see, anyway.

Opting to go in through the side entrance for the ER, they found the doors juttering, and the floors covered in blood. Puddles of it were dark and stagnant in the waiting room, but sodden streaks went down the hallways. Quietly checking the directory map with a penlight, Richard traced the route they needed to take to get to the stairwell. It should go straight up to the roof, right to the whirlybird, which was where they needed to be.

So they ran.

They were about halfway down the hallway when the zombies who'd been just out of sight in the nurses' station heard them, and started to give chase. As their pounding footfalls rounded the corner, other heads began to lean into the corridor. EMTs and police officers, teenagers and soccer moms, all turned by the hungry dead came after them with the snuffling, shuffling, hungry snarls of monsters from a nightmare.

They made the stairwell half a hall ahead of the horde, and Richard paused just long enough to chock the door with an ax blade before they started up the stairs. The zombies managed to break through, but it bought the cadre enough time to get a few floors head start. While there were other snarls and grunts coming from the other hallways through the open emergency doors, they were far away, and not a problem at the moment. Panting, Otis hit the rooftop door hard, the three of them bounding out into the night. The chopper pilot, halfway through a smoke, jumped when he saw them.

"Get us in the air!" Richard bellowed at him. Before the door had time to close, Richard and Otis both grabbed a heavy equipment rack, straining with their backs and shoulders. It rocked, then toppled, hundreds of pounds ramming against the door. The zombies were pushing and scrabbling, but before they could get the door open more than an inch the three survivors were into the chopper, and heading out into the night sky.

Not A Single Combat Roll (Which Suited Us Fine)

While I've heard a lot of stories about All Flesh games that were high-octane runs through blasted cityscapes, or last stands against armies of enemies as parties of diehard survivors fight for their lives, this particular game did something very special for me as a player... it rewarded the smart choices of the group.

Ah ha... I see what you did there. Very well.

The fellow running this game went through all of our choices, and pulled back the curtain on what would have happened had we done things differently. Firstly, by sticking around the starting area to grab maps and listen to the broadcast, we figured out where we needed to go, and how we needed to get there. And we booked it fast enough to avoid a combat. Then, when we went to the garage, we didn't waste time going into the back lot, or digging around in the bays, where we might have run into additional dangers. When we hit the strip mall we kept things fast and quiet, and we didn't smash open any windows, or trigger any alarms that would have quickly summoned a few squads of curious zombies wondering what all the racket was. We chose not to go right into the main lobby of the hospital (more of a lucky choice than anything else), and instead of crawling through the bloody hallways we just went for the goal before the enemy could shake themselves up to react.

At first he was apologetic that he hadn't just forced encounters, but we'd made all the smart moves, and he didn't want to punish us for sidestepping the threats in what was supposed to be a survival game. However, as I said at the time, I felt far more accomplished for outsmarting the challenges and getting to the destination in one piece than I ever would have felt for just fighting my way through a huge pack of zombies just because.

I might be unique in that, but it's something I wish more DMs would keep in mind; if your party is making the smart moves, don't punish them for it... just keep things tense with skill checks and atmosphere, and let them see just how far they can push their luck!

Next Time on Table Talk!

This week we had a bit of a break, but next time we should be back to the Sandpoint Companions, and their adventures in the Runeforge! So, make sure you come back for the next installment of Table Talk!

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archives, as well as the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio where I help out from time to time. Or, to check out books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, as well as on Pinterest where I'm building all sorts of boards dedicated to my books, RPG supplements, and greatest hits. Lastly, to help support me and my work, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron! Even a little donation can have a big impact.

The Draugr's Bastard (An Unexpected Dhampir)

There's a story about what happened, that night on the Black Reef. Harmund Darkhair's ship fetched up against the rocks, but he wouldn't die. He survived the frigid storm, and ate the bodies of his dead men, trying to gather his strength. He wanted to see his wife one last time, and to tell her he loved her. Once winter had let go, she took a small boat out to the broken ship, searching for her husband. She found him there, and they had one, last night together. The next day, she left the ship alone... or nearly so.

Her son was born, and the lad was queer. He was strong, and fierce, just like his father had been. But his milk teeth were sharp enough to draw blood, and he was prone to rages. They say his eyes shone red in the darkness, and that the smell of death lingered on his skin. His strength grew, and he was stronger than most men by the time he was old enough to grow hair on his face. In time, he was driven from the town, and forced to live in the wild lands of the Broken Hills. Though there are beasts and bandits aplenty in those hills, none dare venture into them after darkness without a tithe to give. For if you move in the lands of the Draugr's Bastard, he will demand payment. And if you lack the gold, he will gladly take value in your blood.

The hills have teeth. Walk shy of them, if you would avoid being bitten.

An Unexpected Dhampir

When someone tells you they're playing a dhampir swashbuckler, you probably picture something like Alucard from Castlevania: Symphony of The Night. While that's one option, a lot of us get stuck imagining all vampires as Vlad Dracula, and all dhampir as being in the same vein... so to speak.

Not so with the draugr's bastard. We already have a different look, since he comes from strong, northern stock. So he's big through the shoulders, with thick, dark hair, and likely dresses for the weather in a fur cloak and heavy leathers. He is still pale, as one would expect with his heritage, but he's also fearsome and barbaric. A man from outside civilization, as surely as he is outside the normal cycle of life and death.

Then we get into his mechanics. Because while dhampir get bonuses to charisma and dexterity, it's important to remember that all sorts of things can be one-handed piercing weapons. Such as a bastard sword, if you take Exotic Weapon Proficiency (Bastard Sword), Weapon Focus (Bastard Sword), and Slashing Grace. When you have that combination, you can swing around that heavy blade faster, and with greater precision, than one might expect. And if you throw in feats like Power Attack, watching you fight is almost like watching a predator unleashed onto the battlefield.

Cold, and ruthless, as the snows he lives among.

 

While the legend of his birth might be true, or it might just be a wild tale that's gotten out of control, the man himself is clearly otherworldly. And whether he'll choose to stay in the northlands near folk who hate and fear him, or whether he'll seek out opportunities elsewhere, depends on the player behind the character. Of course, if he grows in skill and power, he could easily become more than a local legend to the hill folk. The people who leave him offerings, and who call on him when reavers threaten their lands, or when it looks like war will spill over into their holdings.

Like, Follow, and Stay Tuned For More!

That's all for this installment of Unusual Character Concepts. Hopefully this one gave you something to chew over, whether you're a player, or a game master.

For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, and stop by the YouTube channel Dungeon Keeper Radio. Or if you'd prefer to read some of my books, like my alley cat noir novel Marked Territory, my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife or my most recent collection of short stories The Rejects, then head over to My Amazon Author Page!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now Pinterest as well! To support my work, consider Buying Me a Ko-Fi, or heading to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron. That one helps ensure you get more Improved Initiative, and it means you'll get my regular, monthly giveaways as a bonus!

Fun With Raise Dead, Resurrection, and Reincarnation (in Pathfinder)

Death is a constant threat hanging over anyone who steps out their front door with the intention of heeding the call to adventure. Whether it's on the end of a hobgoblin's mace, or in the fiery jaws of a dragon, death is waiting to pounce at any moment. But if you are powerful enough, or rich enough, it's possible that you could get a second chance. A chance to come back from death's country, and to continue on your adventure. But sometimes the person who gets up is not the same person who fell... or, at least, not entirely.

When you rise, a part of you stays in the grave.

The Potential of Resurrection, Reincarnation, and Possession

So, if you get dead in Pathfinder, the most common means to bring you back is a basic raise dead spell. It's a 5th-level cleric spell, it will run you 5k gp in components, and it requires a part of your body. The major sticking point, though, is that you have to be raised a number of days after you died equal to the caster level of the person performing the spell, or it's not an option. Resurrection  is a 7th-level spell, runs you 10k gp in components, but it can take place 10 years per level after the target died. Neither of these spells will resurrect someone who died of old age, but other than that you should be golden. Reincarnation is the cheapest option at 1k gp worth of oils, and it's also the lowest-level since it's a 4th-level druid spell. Of course, reincarnation rolls the wheel of random chance, putting you into a new body that may be very different from your old one.

Being dead is a big deal, and it comes with a lot of questions. For instance, how would a character be changed by a few days in hell? What about ten years, or twenty, or fifty? And more importantly, what would they bring back with them once they've been raised? How would they react if they died of old age as an elf, but were reincarnated as a human with centuries of accumulated knowledge and skills?

It's all right, Lianna. Just cut his throat... it's probably for the best.

While there's nothing in the rules that says being dead changes you at all, or that you recall where you went to, there's nothing that prevents those things, either. So if your character has had a brush with death, take a moment to ask yourself how it changed them. What was their purpose in returning to the mortal coil? Do they want to return to the same afterlife the next time they die, or are they eager to make sure the next time they stand in judgment that they go through a different door? Are they different now than they were before? More humble? More afraid? More savage? Do they possess strange powers they didn't have before they died (as an ideal origin story for a witch or an oracle)? Did they receive a new lease on life to go along with a new face, trying to become someone completely different than they once were?

These aren't questions that have to wait for a spot of bad luck in the campaign, either. Death is an ever-present threat in the game, and it's possible you died and came back before you ever came on the scene as a 1st-level PC. Perhaps you were fortunate enough to come from a rich or influential family, or you were unfortunate enough to make a deal with something that has haunted you for the rest of your life, but you've managed to stay above ground... for the time being. That's where traits like possessed can add a great deal of flavor to your character, especially if you combine them with feats like the Possessed Hand tree. These create the mechanical backing that something is sharing your body with you, and occasionally acts of its own volition. The Haunted oracle curse might also represent some malign force that clung to your soul on its way back to your body. You could even embrace a character with the undead or destined bloodline, implying there are forces beyond this world keeping them on this plane until their task (whatever it is) has been completed.

If this is a topic that captures your interest, you might also want to check out Undoing Character Death: Unique Methods of Resurrection in Pathfinder.

Well, that's all for this week's Fluff post. Hopefully it gave folks some ideas for interesting story lines, or unusual characters. If you want to check out additional content from me, take a gander at my Gamers archive. It's going to grow steadily, so check back in from time to time. If you want to keep up on all my latest posts, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. Lastly, if you want to support me and my blog, head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page. All I ask is a $1 pledge per month, and that gets you both my everlasting gratitude, and a small pile of gamer swag as a thank you.

The Search For The Mummy's Mask Part Two: Undead Children, And Resurrected Puppies

When last we left the Desert Falcons, they had discovered a city of tiny clay people in the basement of an ancient general's tomb. The Littlest Pharaoh chose to accompany them... but what adventures did they find after leaving the dusty depths of their first crypt?

If you missed the first installment, catch up by clicking the link below.

Part One: The Desert Falcons, and The Littlest Pharaoh
Part Two: Undead Children, and Resurrected Puppies
Part Three: Enemies on All Sides
Part Four: Fight Night at The Necropolis
Part Five: Who is The Forgotten Pharaoh?
Part Six: No Harm Ever Came From Reading A Book...
Part Seven: Needle in a Haystack
Part Eight: Lamias and Genie Lords
Part Nine: The Mind of The Forgotten Pharaoh
Part Ten: The End of The Forgotten Pharaoh

All caught up? Good, because things get shambling in the next chapter...

A Night of Celebration

So, we managed to escape relatively unscathed (physically, at least) from the general's tomb. We emerged with the Littlest Pharaoh stowed away among Mustafa's material components, and we turn over the significant treasures we found (the war chariot, and most of the gilded tomes) to the church leaders, as per our agreement with them. The city was discovered, of course, but it was preserved as historical art, rather than as a city of tiny, living clay people. We go back to the inn, we rest, have some hummus, drink a little wine, and rub elbows with our fellow adventurers. The tiny majesty watches in secret, and spends the rest of his time in our rooms.

So, what did you find in the necropolis?

It's really a rather merry bunch. Caladral is offering toasts and buying drinks, performing the unique magic of turning gold into liquor at a rapid pace. Ra'ana and Umaya are nursing their own drinks, washing the dust from their throats and keeping eyes out for trouble. Mustafa is involved in deep discussion with a pair of witchy sisters regarding portents and spells, their conversation dense enough that no one not steeped in mysticism would be able to follow it. And Yana is sharing a tankard with a rambunctious halfling by the name of Mad Dog, who goes adventuring with naught but a pack of hounds to watch his flanks.

After a night of rest, during which Mustafa unpacks his wizard's spellbook and prepares some arcane might to complement his divine power (and everyone else takes a second level in their existing classes), we are given a new assignment. A huge, walled manor that's been marked with Pharasma's spiral, and which is merely unexplored instead of unexplored and forgotten. It is deeper in the necropolis, though, and as such we should be sure we are prepared.

Then Undead Children

No sooner do we walk through the gates than we are beset by visions from the ancient past. The sounds of shuffling mobs, and the smells of burning and blood. A horrific callback that has lingered throughout centuries, leaving us shaken, and on edge. Then we stepped into the manor's side yard, and found it was full of mewling, shambling creatures.

I'm starting to get a "heart of darkness" theme here... if there were zombie babies.

These tiny corpses, reduced to little more than bones, pose no threat to our bodies. But what they represent is awful, and it sets something off in both Umaya, and Ra'ana. The two of them methodically destroy each creature, bringing their weapons down without malice, or rage. Every swing is heavier than the last, though, and when they reach the small slave quarters they find a half dozen restless dead still chained to the wall, left there for untold centuries. With a wave of his hand, and a quick prayer, Mustafa blows out their dark candles, and let their bones rest.

Filled with a horror that is has become a slow-burning anger, we enter the house, and find something worthy of that wrath. A snarling, bestial ghoul the size and shape of a Large dog, and with several, rotting heads full of too many teeth. Beneath Ra'ana's whirling blades, and Umaya's falchion, the thing doesn't stand a chance. Mustafa and Yana don't even need to bring their magic to bear, simply allowing the two warriors to spend their impotent frustration on the abomination that lurked in the upper floors.

Aside from the bizarre hound, though, there was nothing noteworthy in the house. Around the other side, though, we found a huge, skeletal creature waiting to snap up unwary prey. Umaya was unwary when it ambushed her, but its bones were ill-prepared for the assault of her flail, or for the bolts of acid and disruption that lanced into it as Mustafa and Yana threw back their sleeves, casting in near unison. Bloodied, but with no serious hurts that a brief prayer beneath Sarenrae's bright sun could not fix, we found a crypt.

The crypt's guardian, something that looked like a mummy but which was anything but, did not die easily. In fact, it nearly escaped, and was halfway up the wall before a handful of hurled flame from Mustafa brought it down, where its skull was pulped by a panting Umaya. Further down, hordes of undead cats came snarling and hissing from the shadows. Mustafa held out his hands, and sent wave after wave of positive energy crashing over the beasts. They fell, and crumbled. There were hundreds of them, though, and we couldn't figure out why.

Until we opened Schroedinger's coffer, that was...

Far in the back of the tomb there was a bizarre device. A coffer that held a single kitten. A kitten who, Mustafa determined after examining its box, had been kept alive for thousands of years by the sacrifice of the horde we had destroyed. So, capturing the cat (who was far from pleased at being snatched and put in a bag), we carried the strange coffer out of the tomb, and tried to decide what should be done with it.

A Hangdog Face, and Crocodile Tears

When we return to the inn, we find Mad Dog sitting at a table, surrounded by empty glasses. There are only two dogs with him now; one lying on the floor, dejected, and the other with her head in his lap, whining up at him. He'd lost the others, all for some stupid magic sword he didn't even want. It was a heartbreaking scene, and after the tragedies of the day, we decided to do something about this one.

Did you do what it sounds like you did?

Upon careful study and consideration, Mustafa pronounced that he believed they could bring one of Mad Dog's hounds back to his side. The pint-sized pack master retrieved the body of his big male, broken and bloody from its engagement, and handed it gingerly to us. We placed it inside the coffer, and carefully closed the lid. Mustafa offered prayers to his own goddess for guidance, and beseeched Erastil to look with favor upon Mad Dog's plight. To let this hound, a creature of both the wilds and the home, return to its master. We placed the hissing cat in the other part of the coffer, and asked that it be granted the end it was meant to have so many thousands of years ago.

Then, hoping for the best, Mustafa filled the thing with as much positive energy as he could generate, and Yana activated the coffer. The result? Mad Dog's hound leaped out, tongue wagging, and looking around eagerly. He seemed bigger than he had, more muscular, and perhaps with a sharper gaze, but it was the same dog all right. Mad Dog wrapped his arms around it, and cried into his fur. Then he thanked us with all his swelling, drunken heart. We accepted his thanks, but kept a wary eye on what we had done.

It seems that someone heard our prayers, though. That hound's forehead was soon bedecked with a pair of antlers, and it began prowling the town's back streets, sniffing out undead and dastardly threats to those who lived there. Deciding not to test our luck, we handed the coffer over to Hakar, under the condition that he not sell it to someone who would use it for evil or nefarious ends.

As if he would ever do such a thing!

What feats did the Desert Falcons achieve next? Tune in next time when I share the ambush at the square, and the awakening of the dead!

That's all for this week's Table Talk. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you have a tale of your own you'd like to share, feel free to get in touch, and I can give you your own moment in the spotlight! If you'd like to support Improved Initiative, and keep content just like this coming your way, then why not head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to leave me a tip? As little as $1 a month can make a big difference, and there's some sweet swag in it for you as well. Lastly, if you haven't followed me on Facebook, Tumblr, or Twitter, well, why not start today?

The Undead Feats Are Now Available From TPK's "Feats of Legend" Series!

I mentioned awhile back that I was working on the Feats of Legend series with TPK Games. The first one to bear my name is The Infernal Feats, and is already out like I mentioned a few weeks ago. However, the next one in the series has been released, and it's one that players and DMs alike will have a ball with.

What is it? The Undead Feats, of course.

You were expecting something less necrotic?

What's In The Book?

The latest installment in the Feats of Legend series has 22 feats, brought to you by myself, Brian Berg, and by Simon Peter Munoz (who runs the Creative Repository Blog, which you should check out if you haven't already). These feats are for characters who are undead, who hunt undead, or for characters who have access to the undead bloodline.

What do they do? Well, there are 22 feats, so there's a lot of nasty tricks in this book. You'll find feats that let you poison undead, feats that increase your knowledge of undead, and feats that allow you to hide from undead. You'll also find feats that increase undead creatures' natural armor, feats that allow the undead to gain fast healing whenever they kill a living foe, and even feats that allow the undead to resist their greatest bane; positive energy!

If you want to throw your players a curve ball, or if you're a player who wants to really make the most of your character's undead heritage, The Undead Feats is definitely a book you should have on your shelf.

As always, thanks for stopping by! If you want to make sure you don't miss any of my updates, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. If you'd like to help support my blog, then please stop by my Patreon page to become a patron today! Even as little as $1 a month can make a big difference.

The Saga of Majenko Part Six: The Raid on Castle Scarwall!

When last we left our intrepid entourage as they escorted the great and powerful Majenko toward his destiny, they had fled the city of Korvosa, and discovered the queen was possessed by the spirit of an ancient evil named Kasavon. They ventured into the Cinderlands to find important information from the Shoanti, but were told it was not knowledge for outsiders. So they tested their bodies, spirits, and patience to complete the rites of membership to join the Shoanti nation. Exhausted, they emerged victorious, and with a temporary pet bulette. Also, in case you're not up on everything that's happened so far, here is the chapter list for the epic saga of Majenko (referred to out of game as Curse of the Crimson Throne).

Part One: Finding The Main Character of "Curse of The Crimson Throne"
Part Two: How Much Damage Could One Pseudodragon Do?
Part Three: Scourge of The Red Mantis
Part Four: Blood Pig Champion
Part Five: Brother to The Shoanti
Part Six: The Assault on Castle Scarwall
Part Seven: The Return to Korvosa
Part Eight: Re-Taking Korvosa
Part Nine: The Assault on Castle Korvosa
Part Ten: Down With The Queen

Go on, we'll wait.

Caught up? Lovely.

Striking Out For Scarwall

Once we've officially been welcomed into the sun tribe, the shaman finally tells us the legend of Kasavon. A powerful servant of Zon Kuthon, he was laid low in a place called Castle Scarwall, an outpost in the Orc Hold of Belkzen. The body had been torn into pieces, and the evil creature's fangs had been buried beneath a ziggurat in a place that, many years later, would be the foundation of Castle Korvosa. The queen had obviously found the fangs, and the remnants of power in them had taken over her body and soul. In order to challenge that creature we would need to climb the death-haunted walls of Castle Scarwall, and seek the legendary sword blessed by Iomedae herself that had first laid the creature low.

And then we were attacked. A flock of gargoyles, a team of Red Mantis assassins, and a serial killer who'd been hunting Shoanti scalps all show up to crash our party. Fortunately we had our big, gray, peanut loving Shep with us, and we'd had time to recover from the previous day's exertions. Our assailants weren't long for this world.

Especially this guy. Fuck this guy.

With the next leg of our journey clearly in front of us, and our very presence causing our newly adopted family harm, we headed out immediately. Due to player moving plans our cleric bowed out at the city of Kaer Maga, replaced by a new, militant cleric of Iomedae named Validia; a tiefling whom Egil had known back in Egorian when they'd both been raised in a state-funded orphanage. We also ran into our old friend Leori, and an equal-but-different member of her church, Shadow Count Sial. It seems that the dread lord Zon-Kuthon has an interest in the remnants of Castle Scarwall as well, but his minions are not powerful enough to enter it alone. So we agree that, despite our mutual differences, we'll work together in this matter. We also managed to acquire a ranger, whose specialty, funnily enough, was in taking the un out of the undead.

Convenient.

Unexpected Tactics

Castle Scarwall was built on an island, and several outbuildings near the edge of the bridge were inhabited by a rough and ready gang of orc raiders. Bold enough to come within sight of Scarwall, but not stupid enough to try and cross its moat. They gave us a rough time, but when all was said and done we managed to come out of things with a trove of heavy armor, some scrolls, and a fully-armed necklace of fireballs.

We had a feeling that was going to come in handy.

Shake and bake, baby.

So, bold as brass, we decide to walk right across the bridge. A welcoming party comes to greet us; a horde of skeletons led by a champion mounted on a terrible, nightmarish charger. A web spell held back the cannon fodder, and though he charged through and dealt several, wicked blows, the champion went down hard when our fighter smashed her gauntleted fist through his mount's skull. Leori was sad that she didn't get a chance to ride the pretty pony, but we dispatched the rest of the minions in short order.

Behind them was a heavy door, arrow slits, and a lot of resistance. So, we decided to just sort of bypass all of that.

The Power of The Unexpected

We had a fairly magic-heavy party, between the magus, the cleric, the ranger, and the two NPC clerics. Slogging through heavy defenses was for lesser adventurers. So Egil popped the cork on his bottle of endless smoke, settled his fogcutter lenses onto his face, and led the way up over the walls.

Of course we all prepared some version of fly. What combat situation is not improved by your ability to do it in three dimensions?

You can't always have one of these in your bag of holding.

We fought some gargoyles, and thought we were being pretty clever... but because we'd come in aerially, it also meant we had to fight the shadow dragon. We hadn't been prepared for that, precisely, but we certainly couldn't outrun the damn thing, so it was pedal to the floor and hope we hurt it more than it hurt us.

We did. Barely, but we did. It took the biggest fireball from our necklace straight to the face, got filled full of arrows from the ranger (who was shooting at a handicap due to a lack of favored enemy), and only about half of Egil's spells were making it through the thing's thick spell resistance. However, the orc champion we'd killed happened to be carrying a dragonbane greatsword, and in the hands of our fighter, it carved a big hole through the dragon in quite a hurry.

It still nearly killed us... but we didn't have to go in through the front door.

Rinse, Lather, Repeat

The dragon was one of several guardians anchored to Castle Scarwall, which we'd had described to us in a poem from the nice Varisian ghost who'd followed us around in a possessed deck of cards. Each one of the guardians had their own schtick, and we discovered each of them was physically bound to a part of the castle. Convenient in that they couldn't all mob us, but with ancient protections laid down in blood and blasphemy, it took one of our two constantly-bickering NPCs to let us through a lot of the doors. We went toe-to-toe with a demi-lich, destroyed a skeletal commander, and in between bouts wiped out dozens of ghosts and hordes of skeletons. There was even a devil, relegated to service and trapped until we moved it along. Then, once the anchors were jerked out of the way, we fought the huge ghost in the center of Scarwall that was keeping the pile of stones and bones apart from the ravages of time.

This led us down a well. And in the well, we found a plot devil.

Story toll. That will be two evil NPCs, please.

Leori and the Shadow Count are being "promoted" by Zon Kuthon, yanked into the Midnight Lord's twilight realm. We had to go on alone... which we did. We dropped down a hole, fought several gugs (H.P. Lovecraft fans will know what I'm talking about), and just as we're catching our breaths we're confronted with a colossal abomination; the final guardian between us and the sword Syrithtiel.

Or at least it was, until Egil used vanish to make Majenko invisible, and he sped across the roiling lake to snatch the sword. He took a swipe at the guardian, failed, and then ducked and dodged his way through flailing limbs and tendrils to toss the blade to the ranger. With the relic in our possession, we go all out to end this thing's stewardship of the cursed castle.

It was a near thing... but we managed.

What happened next? Tune in next time for the seventh installment, "Return to Korvosa"! If you want to make sure you keep getting all of Improved Initiative's updates, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. If you'd like to help support the blog, then click right here to visit my Patreon page!

All The Zombies You Could Ever Want, With Zombiepalooza Radio!

Do you like zombies? I don't mean in the, "sure, The Walking Dead is a pretty good show," kind of way. I'm talking about the kind of breathless enthusiasm that makes you keep a walker-chopper in your bedroom, which has led you to memorize big swaths of The Zombie Survival Guide, and which makes, "Would you like to hear about my zombie apocalypse plan?" an appropriate first-date question. If you have the kind of love that bites, then you really need Zombiepalooza Radio in your life.

Or whatever your reasonable facsimile of life happens to be...

What is Zombiepalooza Radio?

Zombiepalooza Radio is a podcast that goes live from 8 pm. until 1 a.m.Eastern Standard Time on Friday nights right here. The show talks about zombies, zombie apocalypse scenarios, books, movies, and anything involving both the ZomPoc sub-genre as well as the bigger horror umbrella under which all things dark and terrible make their homes. The show features authors, filmmakers, critics, industry insiders, and news about what's going on in horror that you might want to know about.

So what the hell are you waiting for, the dead to come banging on your door? Listen to Zombiepalooza Radio on their Youtube page, and Like them on Facebook today!

Thanks for stopping in on this very late Monday update, and if you want to support Improved Initiative then stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page today! If you want to make sure you don't miss any of my updates then you can follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and yes, even on Twitter.

Table Talk: That Time When My Paladin One-Shotted the Campaign's Final Big-Bad

We've all got a few of those stories. That one time where the dice were in our favor and we couldn't be stopped, that great exchange that left the room silent, or that session when the most ridiculous course of action worked for no reason other than you popped up a natural 20. Table Talk is the newest addition to Improved Initiative, and it's where we brag, boast, and perhaps share an embarrassing fumble or two. To lead us off I'm going to tell you a tale of how I accomplished the unthinkable; I one-shot killed the final enemy of a huge, published campaign.

I was pretty goddamn surprised, myself.

You Did What?

Okay, so this story's going to take a wee bit of background before we get to the good part. Several years ago a friend of mine by the name of Justin Duncan got his hands on the Carrion Crown adventure path. For those of you not familiar with it, it's essentially an entire campaign where you're facing nothing but undead horrors, eldritch abominations, and every blasphemous, squamous thing the Pathfinder bestiary can fling at you. I figured it would be a good time to stretch beyond my usual fighters and barbarians to try out a paladin. But not just any paladin; I wanted an Undead Scourge. Essentially a paladin so dedicated to fighting the undead that many of his abilities were ineffective on living, but undoubtedly evil, creatures, while at the same time wreaking pure havoc on the living dead.

Valgard Grimwald

Valgard was once a peasant farmer, living with his wife and working the cold, unforgiving ground of Ustalav. She died of a sickness one winter, and despite the frigid temperatures Valgard dug her grave and saw her safely beneath the snow. When spring came he found her grave had been defiled, and her body stolen. He roamed the mountains, following the signs and stink of the living dead until he found the necromancer who had been using his Ilyena for his own, twisted pleasures. That man was a long time dying, and once his wife had been placed back in her bower Valgard dedicated himself to wiping out the living dead by taking up arms in the service of Pharasma, goddess of death.

But Paladins Have to Have a Lawful Good Goddess, Don't They?

Yes, don't interrupt me. I asked Justin whether he would allow me to play a paladin who served a neutral goddess, provided I kept his alignment lawful good. I was willing to follow Iomede, or even Erastil, but I felt that for story reasons Pharasma made more sense. He agreed, and acquiesced to my request.

Back to the story. So we begin in the Town of Harrowstone fighting ghosts, move onto another town where a sentient flesh golem is being put on trial for murder, and the party eventually goes beneath the waves to fight a horde of horrors that would have been right at home outside Lovecraft's Innsmouth. In addition to Valgard we had a bard detective, a rage prophet, and a titan mauler who had picked up a lycanthrope template somewhere along the line. Not a party to be messed with lightly. In that place beneath the waves though, the DM decided to pull some shenanigans on my behalf.

I had made it known from the beginning that one of the goals I had for Valgard was to find him a holy avenger. It's possibly the most stereotypical paladin thing you could ask for, but I wanted to do it. Rather than just taking something straight out of the book (Justin's flare for the dramatic simply would not allow something so plebian), he decided to craft a relic that fit Valgard, as well as his goddess. What I got was a holy bastard sword that increased my lay on hands, dealt extra damage to anything undead, and which had disruption on it. I pointed out that disruption was sort of a blunt-weapon-only ability, to which he told me it's a relic, it has the properties on that sheet. I nodded, having done my duty as a conscientious player, and took the sword with something approaching unbecoming glee.

Then What?

Right. So the party hacked, slashed, diplomacized and intimidated its way through half a dozen books (the vampire chapter was particularly short, as we took on a CR 18 challenge at level 12 and came out the victors. That's a separate story all by itself), and we wound up at the final encounter of the whole campaign. A wizard on a mountaintop preparing to steal the power of the Whispering Tyrant, and to become the most powerful lich the ages have ever seen. As we advanced on him to stop the ritual (Spoiler Alert, in case you haven't guessed what the final boss in an undead-centric campaign is), a dracolich crawls around from the mountain peak and throws itself between us and the soon-to-be-lich king. Justin places a colossal size red dragon mini on the map, an excited grin plastered across his face. Roll initiative!

By sheer, stupid luck Valgard goes first. Since the dragon is flat-footed and its reach rendered moot, the paladin declares his smite, then charges with sword raised high and calling out to Pharasma to guide his hand. He swings, and hits only because of the +2 from the charge. First blood! I start gathering my dice, preparing to list out the way I'm using channel smite, and calculating how many dice I have to roll. Then I remember it's a disruption weapon, and off-handedly say, "Hey Justin, roll its fort save. Yeah I know it has to roll a 1 for it to matter but there's a 1 on every die."

Justin rolls, and the smile fades from his face. He's staring at a natural 1, an automatic failure. He takes the dragon off the table, and gestures to me. We sit there, stunned, staring at what just happened. In the game world the dracolich bursts into smoking bone shards and ancient dust, and when the cloud clears Valgard stands with nothing more than forty feet between him and the wizard who would enslave the world.

Don't go anywhere, this gets better.

The newly made lich, who is realizing that the odds have suddenly and drastically shifted out of his favor, goes next. He casts mage's dysjunction on Valgard's sword, which as an artifact gets all kinds of chances to save. It fails those saves, and is destroyed. The lich manages to keep his magic, but destroying an artifact of a deity has a chance to draw said deity's attention. Not much of a chance, something like 5%. So Justin rolls percentiles, high is good for us. 98%. Pharasma is now paying very, very close attention to what's happening in this pitched battle.

The rest of the party advances on the newly made lich, and things go very poorly very quickly for him. Holy energy is thrown through Valgard's fists, lightning brought down from scrolls by the bard, and sheer, brutal blows from the barbarian are cutting him to pieces. After the third round the lich falls apart, but we know he'll reconstitute soon. We also know that, for story reasons, destroying his phylactery could kill the person who does it. Valgard, who has sought nothing more than to be granted an afterlife with his wife, destroys the phylactery without hesitation. He sacrificed himself to save the country he loved, and Pharasma made him one of her eternal guardians.

This remains, without question, the most epic thing I have ever done with a set of dice.


So, do you as our readers like Table Talk? Would you like to see more? Well, if so, then leave some comments, spread the word, and please remember Improved Initiative runs on Google AdSense! For those who'd like more immediate updates on what's going on with yours truly, check me out on Facebook, or follow me on Tumblr instead if that's more your bag. If you'd like to see what books I've got available, go visit my Goodreads to get a total list of my publications. As always, thanks for reading!