When time permits, I like to pose interesting questions posed by my Patreon supporters. Questions like…
Whats a storybeat you’d like to play with Thrane? You ran your Siberspace campaign based in Aundair, Skeleton Crew was set in Karrnath, Quickstone was Breland. What about Thrane?
This is a reference to the liveplay campaigns I’ve run for my patrons on Patreon. Siberspace was a four-episode Spelljammer campaign that followed the idea of a space race in the Five Nations. Quickstone was a campaign tied to Frontiers of Eberron that had over twenty sessions, while Skeleton Crew was a one shot set in Karrnath. If any of these sound interesting, you can watch or listen to the recorded episodes on Patreon! But, the question remains what’s a story I’d tell in Thrane? Rather than just limit this to what is a story I’d tell as a live play on my website, I’d make this a broader question—what are ideas I’d use if I decided to base a campaign in Thrane? Here’s some ideas.
The Queen’s Musketeers. From the very beginning, I have always felt that if I was going to run a story inspired by The Three Musketeers in Eberron, I would place it in Thrane and have the adventurers play Knights of Thrane. From the original ECS:
The Crown Knights, also known as the Knights of Thrane, pledged to defend crown and country when the order was established during the time of Prince Thrane, son of King Galifar I. Over the centuries, this order of knights has served the regent of Thrane faithfully. When the Church of the Silver Flame refused to acknowledge the authority of the crown and turned the nation into a theocracy, the Knights of Thrane were ready to battle on behalf of the crown. The heir apparent defused the situation by bowing to the Keeper of the Flame, realizing that Thrane would be destroyed if it succumbed to internal strife while the Last War raged on. Today, the Knights of Thrane continue to work for the nation, serving Queen Diani in name but answering to the Council of Cardinals in practice.
Overall, the Knights of Thrane are an elite force used both for special missions in times of war and for troubleshooting in times of peace. They aren’t SPIES, but they are capable individuals who might be involved in missions that require a dash of finesse and intrigue. While they have the title of “knight” they possess a wide range of skills, ensuring that they can deal with diplomatic situations as well as bloodshed. A squad of knights could include fighters, paladins, rangers, clerics, divine soul sorcerers, or even a bard or wizard—in other words, a party of adventurers. Many Knights of Thrane are devout followers of the Flame, allowing for Divine Soul Sorcerers, Silver Pyromancers, or their equivalent in bard or Eldritch Knight; but but you could also have the pure fighter who doesn’t draw on the Flame in any way. The Knights of Thrane are an arm of the government, not the Church—but now the government is the theocracy, that line has blurred. So devotion to the Silver Flame isn’t REQUIRED among the Knights of Thrane, but it’s still the norm in Thrane generally. Keep in mind that there are people devoted to the Flame who feel that the theocracy is a mistake—that involving the Church in secular affairs distracts it from its spiritual mission and invites corruption. I think this is a strong path for a Crown Knight; they may be devoted to the Flame and to the Church, but they question the Theocracy—and as such, have little love for Cardinal Krozen.
In digging deeper into the Knights of Thrane for my campaign, I would say that the order is divided into two battalions, known among the order as the Crown Knights and the Flame Knights. The Crown Knights are charged with the personal defense of Queen Diani, while the Flame Knights are charged with the personal defense of the Council of Cardinals. The Crown Knights are largely devoted to the Queen, while the Flame Knights revere Cardinal Krozen above all others; in addition to serving as bodyguards, they often engage on personal missions or intrigues on behalf of Queen or Cardinal. Again, they are all unified within the order and both devoted to THRANE, and therefore shouldn’t be FIGHTING one another… and yet, the Crown and Flame have different opinions about what’s good for the Church and for Thrane. Duels of honor are a regular thing, and Crown Knights and Flame Knights often find themselves on the opposite sides of intrigue. With that in mind, I would straight up lift ideas from Dumas, as well as Stephen Brust’s Phoenix Guards novels. You’re a squad of Crown Knights, devoted to the Queen, trying to help her navigate her way through a dangerous world and ultimately to do what’s best for Queen and Church, regularly clashing with the Cardinal’s knights along the way. Your knights could uncover Whispering Flame conspiracies, engage in political negotiations on behalf of the Queen, and surely get involved in duels of honor and affairs of the heart—trying to walk the line between devotion to the Flame (for those who are) and devotion to the Queen. You could even be drawn in a popular movement to abolish the rule of the theocracy and return authority to Diani… but is it a popular movement, or is it a scheme of Krozen’s trying to draw Diani into open treason against the state? One for all, and all for Thrane!
The Argentum. The Church of the Silver Flame is dedicated to defending the innocent from supernatural threats. The Argentum began as an arm of the Church dedicated to finding and either destroying or containing cursed objects or exceptionally dangerous magic items. This was always a duty the Argentum carried out in the shadows; even if an item deemed to be a threat was in a dragonmarked enclave or in the possession of a noble, the Argentum would find a way to get their job done. This made the Argentum the most experienced covert operatives of the Church (with the exception of Miron’s Tears, who are SO covert that the Council of Cardinals has no oversight over them). With the shift to theocratic power and the evolution of the Last War, the Argentum was charged with additional tasks—namely, sabotaging powerful magical assets of enemy nations and acquiring arcane tools that could prove valuable to Thrane.
An Argentum campaign is part Leverage, part Warehouse 13. On the one hand, the Argentum continues to serve its original purpose: finding dangerous artifacts, and containing those that can’t be destroying. If the Hand of Vecna (Lhazaar), Wand of Orcus (Katashka) and Book of Vile Darkness are in your Eberron and aren’t currently in the hands of an evil mastermind, there’s a decent chance they’re locked away in the deep vaults of the Argentum. So a basic Argentum story is about finding and containing the effects of a dangerous item, artifact, or Eldritch Machine. This can bring them into conflict with Cults of the Dragon Below, Aurum hoarders, or total innocents who have acquired a dangerous object that has taken control of them or otherwise made them a threat; in such a case, can you neutralize the object without killing the innocent? Alternatively, you can deal with the more covert and political side of the Argentum, and carry out missions to sabotage an Aundairian weapons program, break into a Cannith forgehold, or rob a Kundarak vault — all without causing an international incident! A third option as the campaign goes on is to deal with internal politics, with cardinals seeking to make use of items in the Argentum vault—all in the interests of Thrane, surely, but there are things in those vaults that will never produce a good outcome—or Whispering Flame cultists seeking to infiltrate the Argentum itself. Perhaps you’re on vault duty when a prakhutu of the Lords of Dust stages a raid on the vault; it’s Die Hard in Thrane!
The Templars. The Argentum deals with artifacts and espionage. But the templars work every day to fight supernatural evil, and part of the point of Eberron is that supernatural evil is a part of life. Every day there could be threats from native fiends, spontaneous undead, aberrations from Khyber, dangerous conjunctions or manifest zones, Cults of the Dragon Below—and someone’s got to face them. The point of a Templar campaign would be intense action, not unlike Phoenix Dawn Command. Every adventure you are being dropped into a supernatural hotspot and trying to contain a threat before innocents are harmed. I’ve pointed out that the new rules for lycanthropy can easily trigger a scenario like a zombie apocalypse. Guess what—there’s a werewolf outbreak in a village in Thrane and you’re the only ones who have a chance to contain it before it spreads. Some adventures would be pure, intense action; others would require you to investigate and understand a threat before you have any chance of stopping it. Remember also, MORTAL evil is supposed to be countered with compassion, not steel. After battling aberrations and fiends, your adventurers could be placed in a situation where violence is not the answer—where they must counter the influence of a cult with words instead of swords.
Miron’s Tears. There was a time when the templars of the Silver Flame had the trust and respect of all citizens of Galifar, regardless of home or faith. Today, people outsiders speak more of the corruption in our ranks than the sanctity of our mission. Tira weeps, but our course is clear: we must be the cleansing flame that burns away this infection.
If the Argentum isn’t secret enough for you, you might be interested in Miron’s Tears. Founded by the Avenger Samyr Kes, a companion of Tira Miron, Miron’s Tears is a deeply secret order within the Church that polices the Church itself. As agents of Miron’s Tears you will be hunting both Whispering Flame cultists and hidden fiends, but also dealing with human corruption—people turned from Tira’s path by greed or a thirst for power. Part of the challenge is that not every problem can be solved with violence; the Tears need to consider how to handle a particular point of corruption, considering the impact of removing the corrupt individual and if there is a way to bring them back into the fold. This would be a subtle and philosophical campaign, which would likely involve a lot of how can we be certain Bishop X is a fiend or what to do about Dariznu in Thaliost. A key point is that while most people in Thrane ARE followers of the Silver Flame, it’s not a requirement for Crown Knights. The Argentum and the templars are both arm of the Church itself; it’s possible a character could be someone outside the Church and faith brought in purely because of their exceptional skills, but it would definitely be rare. With Miron’s Tears, faith would be an unnegotiable prerequisite. As one of Miron’s Tears you seek to uphold the pure ideals of Tira Miron, to set the example others should follow. This doesn’t mean you have to wield divine magic; but you would need to have faith in the Flame. It could be interesting to have an agent of the Tears who QUESTIONS their faith over the course of the campaign because of the things they see and do. But you would never be recruited into the Tears unless you had strong faith and Samyr considered you to be incorruptible.
Rellekor. I enjoy running campaigns that are tied to a particular town—where the adventurers are denizens of the town who end up working together for the good of their community. This was the foundation of my Quickstone campaign. You could do this in Thrane with any small village… but I’d be tempted to run it in RELLEKOR. This town is a haven for tieflings, a place where people touched by the malefic influence of the planes can learn to control their powers and work for the greater good. The image at the start of this article is Epitaph, a Dolurrhi tiefling who was raised in Rellekor. Most likely, most of the adventurers would be tieflings, and this would be an opportunity to explore the different sorts of tieflings you can find in Khorvaire. As with Quickstone, I’d play up the idea that most of the player characters don’t start out as professional adventurers. They are inhabitants of Rellekor who happen to have remarkable gifts. Perhaps there’s a Shavaran tiefling who served in the Last War, but who’s retired to farm and hopes never to draw a sword again. Perhaps there is a devout cleric—though maybe they’re struggling with especially strong fiendish influence, relying on the strength of their connection to the Flame to protect them from evil. There could be an entertainer, an arcane researcher, a scholar studying planar influence… but when trouble comes to Rellekor, they’ll have to learn to work together.
These are just the ideas I came up in a few hours thinking about it; it’s only a beginning! Meanwhile, I am starting work on a new Eberron book and am giving my Patreon supporters an opportunity to help me decide what topics it covers. There’s going to be a series of polls over the course of the month. If you’d like to be a part of that conversation, follow the link and check out my Patreon!
People say that Queen Etrigani hears ghosts. That when she’s near you, she hears the echoes of the people you’ve lost, the traces of the dead that cling to you. Maybe that’s true, maybe it’s not. But I’ll tell you this. If you’re hiding something… she’ll know it. Whether it’s supernatural or not, our queen has a gift. We’re fortunate she seems devoted to our country and our king.
The year was 991 YK, and Karrnath was shaken. Regent Morrana had condemned the Blood of Vol and disbanded the Seeker orders, but the army still relied on the Karrnathi undead. A dramatic offensive into the Mror Holds ended with massive losses and a humiliating retreat. The warlords demanded change, and they received it. The heirs of King Jaron had remained in isolation since his death, supposedly out of fear of Emerald Claw assassins. Now Jaron’s eldest son stepped out of the shadows and claimed the crown, taking the regnal name of Kaius. It wasn’t just his name that recalled the king who’d led Karrnath into the Last War; the new king bore an uncanny resemblance to his ancestor. Kaius III took full advantage of this, urging Karrns to recall their days of glory. He was more than just a familiar face. Kaius III was a brilliant strategist and a surprisingly skilled diplomat, with charisma that seemed almost supernatural. He seized the reins of power as if he’d held them for decades. Within the span of a year he’d united feuding warlords, revitalized Karrnath’s military, and brokered peace with the lords of the Mror Holds. When he took to the field, Kaius proved to be a capable warrior. And while the king preferred to solve his problems through diplomacy, when a warlord proved an implacable thorn in his side, they simply disappeared—and the other warlords nodded, respecting the ruthlessness of their new king. And somehow, in the midst of this diplomatic whirlwind, Kaius even found love. He didn’t strengthen his position by courting a scion of one of Karrnath’s ancient lines, nor did he pursue a diplomatic relationship with a noble of an opposing kingdom. Instead, Kaius pursued a stranger from a distant land—the Lady Etrigani. She was an elf of Aerenal, a noble of the Line of Melideth, an envoy at large observing the warring nations. Etrigani met Kaius at his coronation, and they were married in the same place, two years later to the day.
Etrigani is an outsider in a nation proud of its history, an elf in a kingdom dominated by humans, a wizard in a realm that lives by the sword. Who is she? How did she win not just the heart of Kaius, but the support of his warlords and the common people? And why would an elf of Aerenal—child of a culture that despises Mabaran necromancy—embrace Karrnath and even spend much of her time in the infamous city of Atur?
WHO IS ETRIGANI?
Queen Etrigani is an elf from Aerenal. The skull tattooed across her face marks her as a noble of the Line of Melideth, the Aereni province notable for producing most of its envoys, merchants, and explorers. She is elegant and poised, a model of nobility and elven grace. But she’s neither arrogant nor cold. Etrigani is quick to smile and has a talent for putting others at ease. Even when she’s delivering a threat or an ultimatum—and over the course of a decade of dealing with the warlords of Karrnath, she’s done plenty of both—she speaks gently, showing remarkable empathy for everyone she deals with.
Etrigani was barely a century old when she met Kaius III for the first time—a remarkable age for an elf to be both raised to the nobility and sent out into the world as an observer. Stories say that she’s an necromantic prodigy with an uncanny connection to Dolurrh. Supposedly Etrigani has an innate talent for hearing the traces of emotion and memory that people draw on when casting speak with dead. Where most necromancers can only speak with corpses, Etrigani hears these traces all around her, anywhere someone’s spirit left a mark on the world. If the DM decides these stories are true, this provides her with a few concrete benefits. She can cast speak with dead at will. She has expertise with Insight and advantage on all Insight checks that she makes. Beyond that, this gift manifests as a limited form of legend lore. Etrigani knows things about objects, people, and places she can see. This knowledge isn’t comprehensive; it’s based on the traces people have left on the subject of her observation, moments of high emotion and intensity. So she gets a sense of triumphs and tragedies, moments of loss and joy. Etrigani can’t shut down this ability. She can choose to remain silent about what she knows, but she can’t help but hear the ghosts moaning around you. However, this gift is a form of divination, and nondetection or any other effect that shields someone from divination will silence these ghosts.
Canonically, Etrigani is a skilled Aristocrat and a novice Wizard. In Fifth Edition, I’d blend these two ideas together and cast her as a non-musical bard, in the model of the 2014 College of Spirits. She is still young, and her direct spellcasting abilities are limited, but she is charismatic, persuasive, and empathetic—and she has a gift for practical necromancy, with a particular talent for speaking with the dead; I could also see her using silvery barbs, enhance ability, or borrowed knowledge to reflect her ties to unseen spirits. An important point is that her necromantic gifts are primarily tied to Dolurrh, not to Mabar. She has an affinity for ghosts, but she doesn’t animate the dead.
Etrigani is canonically chaotic in alignment, and I see this as reflecting a refusal to embrace the weighty traditions of Aerenal. This ties to her role in Karrnath and the Blood of Vol. The Undying Court asserts that all Mabaran necromancy is destructive, slowly eating away at the lifeforce of Eberron. I see Etrigani as challenging this fundamental precept and seeking to learn more about the Seekers and their ways—studying how the Seekers use their rituals to contain the deadly energies of Mabar, and interacting with Mabaran undead who haven’t become monsters. I see her as wanting to limit the widespread use of Mabaran necromancy and the role of undead, but still being willing to explore and to learn. This takes the idea that her marriage was her choice and not a mandate from Aerenal. She is a minor noble, whose strange gift and resistance to tradition always made her something of an outsider; the Sibling Kings are watching Etrigani, but she’s not their servant. In this vision of Etrigani, she is with Kaius because she truly loves him, and because she wants to help him stabilize Karrnath and help his people.
All of this is how I see Etrigani. However, just as King Kaius III may not be who he appears to be, this vision of Etrigani could also be a lie. Instead of being a young, rebellious outsider, Etrigani could be an experienced agent of the Deathguard, the Undying Court’s elite undead hunters. In this case, Etrigani is surely far more capable than her canon stats suggest. And if this is the case, her relationship with Kaius is more likely an arrangement of convenience than a love match. Kaius needs help dealing with Lady Illmarrow and the Order of the Emerald Claw; he made a bargain with the Deathguard, and Etrigani is here to do a job. In this vision of Etrigani, any apparent sympathy for the Seekers is feigned as she seeks to ferret out Emerald Claw agents.
I’ve suggested two possibilities for Etrigani. But the path I’d choose would depend on the truth about her husband… King Kaius III.
WHO IS KAIUS?
The Eberron Campaign Setting puts forth a shocking accusation, claiming that King Kaius III is in fact King Kaius I—a vampire who imprisoned his descendant and took his place. According to this tale, when Karrnath faced a crisis, King Kaius I forged an alliance with the Blood of Vol… and made a secret arrangement with the infamous Lady Illmarrow. To seal the deal, Illmarrow forced Kaius to become a vampire. When Kaius later challenged Illmarrow, she used his sire’s power over the king to drive him into a frenzy, during which time he slew his first wife. Refusing to be used as a puppet, Kaius fled into the shadows. He remained in hiding until he found a way to break Illmarrow’s control over him. Perhaps he located and slew his sire; perhaps he found a Qabalrin artifact or some other magic that blocks a vampire’s control over their spawn. Whatever the nature of this protection, once he acquired it, Kaius I returned to Karrnath and worked with Moranna to plot his return. He used cosmetic transmutation on his descendant to create an early resemblance. He allowed his descendant to take his name and claim the crown… and then immediately replaced Kaius III, imprisoning the young king in Dreadhold and taking his place.
The original ECS presented this as canon fact. However, Rising From The Last War chose to step back, taking the approach that it was a possibility… but that it could in fact just be a pernicious rumor. Kaius III might simply have a remarkable resemblance to his ancestor! He could truly be a young idealist who seeks peace and to mend the wounds of his nation.
Personally, I have always preferred an approach that blends both of these stories together—the idea that Kaius III is Kaius III pretending to be Kaius I pretending to be Kaius III. The idea here is that the story of Kaius I played out exactly as described above, and that he went into hiding to avoid becoming a tool of Lady Illmarrow… but he never found a way to break that control. But he saw Kaius III’s potential early on and guided his protege, molding him into an excellent king… and when young Kaius took the throne, his ancestor imprisoned himself in Dreadhold, placing him outside Illmarrow’s reach until a the new king could find a way to break the lich’s hold over him. Kaius III is intentionally playing up the similarities because he wants Illmarrow to think he’s Kaius I. He wants Illmarrow to be mystified by her inability to control him, to confuse her and throw her off her game.
For me, the story of Kaius and Etrigani are entwined, and the truth about Kaius will determine the path I take with Etrigani. So looking at the different ideas…
Kaius III is Kaius I. If this is the case, then then the man who claims to be Kaius III is actually Kaius I — the last of the heirs who set the Last War in motion. This makes him a powerful individual carrying a terrible burden. He’s the man who drove his country into war, and instituted the harsh Code of Kaius. And he’s the man who made a bargain with Lady Illmarrow, and paid a terrible price for it. He slew his beloved wife. If you follow canon, he turned his granddaughter into a vampire, and either killed his great grandson or imprisoned him… all because he believes that he is the only one who can do what has to be done. While he seeks peace, Kaius I is canonically lawful evil; what we’ve always said about this is that it reflects his absolute view that his ends justify his means. Part of the point of Kaius I as Kaius III is that he’s trying to restore the world he helped break—but he’s been a monster for so long that it’s hard to change his ways. We’ve said before that it’s hard to maintain empathy as a vampire; Kaius I is a perfect example of that. On some level, he wants to be a good; but it’s hard for him to remember what that even feels like. Looking to the newspaper clipping, the point is that Kaius I IS a vampire, but there’s lots of ways for him to stage scenes that make this seem impossible.
If Kaius is Kaius I and a vampire, what is the story of Etrigani? Either of the two options I’ve presented can work. In the Deathguard story, Etrigani’s public tale is as much a lie as the king’s; I’d suggest that they met years ago, and that it was Etrigani who found a way to break Illmarrow’s hold over the king. In this case I’d say that Etrigani’s mission isn’t just to destroy Illmarrow; the Undying Court knows that this would just kick the can down the road. She is tasked with destroying the influence of the Order of the Emerald Claw, but also with doing all that she can to find Illmarrow’s phylactery. The hope is that this will be exposed in Illmarrow’s conflict with Kaius. Etrigani and Kaius are partners, not lovers; they are united by their desire to bring down Illmarrow. This Etrigani has no love for Mabaran undead; if she did manage to defeat Illmarrow, she might try to destroy Kaius before returning to Aerenal.
However, it’s still possible to keep the empathetic Etrigani with the Kaius I. This Etrigani can hear the ghosts people carry with them. She met Kaius “III” at his coronation and immediate saw his pain; she could hear the ghost of his wife he carries with him. While her people teach that Mabaran undead are monsters, Etrigani sees the man he was, and is working to help him regain his humanity—to lay his ghosts to rest and find new love.
Kaius III is Kaius III. In this scenario, both Kaius and Etrigani are exactly what they appear to be. Kaius III is a young noble with big dreams for his nation, haunted by the shadow of his long-dead ancestor; if there IS a vampire Kaius I, they don’t know about him. Etrigani is also a young noble who wants to break away from the traditions of her ancestors and who has embraced her new homeland. She wants to learn more about the Seekers and their traditions—how they are using their rituals to contain the threat of Mabar, and the ways in which the use of undead serve the greater good. The point of this story is that these are two young and idealistic people who want challenge the traditions of their people and make the world a better place… but will the world allow it? Kaius truly wants peace, but the warlords of Karrnath are hungry for war. Etrigani sees beauty in Atur, but the Undying Court could be leaning on her and demanding that she serve their ends. Can they find a path to a better world? Or will they be forced into the molds their cultures wish for them?
Kaius III is Kaius III pretending to be Kaius I pretending to be Kaius III. Kaius I is the ruthless vampire who set the war in motion and now seeks redemption, but he can’t fight this battle alone. Kaius III is his chosen tool, trained and prepared to enact his will, saving his great grandfather and his nation. As described in the story, Kaius III is a brilliant leader. But he is fighting his ancestor’s war, and being driven to use his methods. Here again, we get that canonical lawful evil alignment—the idea that he’s been taught to be utterly ruthless in pursuit of his goals. But what does he want? If we take Etrigani as she stands, we have the idea that when she met Kaius at his coronations, she could feel the shadow of Kaius I hanging over him. She loves him, but she’s also trying to be a counter to K1’s darkness. And the point is that both Kaius and Etrigani won’t truly be free to chart their own course until they finish K1’s war—finding a way to free him from Illmarrow’s control and breaking the power of the Order of the Emerald Claw. Essentially, this takes the characters from the K3 is K3 story and commits them to this ruthless secret war. Etrigani wants them to win, but she also wants her husband to retain his humanity. A second question to consider on this path: Even if K3 is K3… is he still a vampire? The most convincing way for this masquerade to work would be if Kaius I turned his great grandson into a vampire. The idea is that Illmarrow’s control doesn’t pass down over generations; she can control Kaius I, but not his spawn. If Kaius III is a vampire of Kaius I’s bloodline, it would be the best way to convince Illmarrow he is Kaius I. But what does this mean for his future with Etrigani?
A fourth option is that Kaius I has taken the place of Kaius III and imprisoned him in Dreadhold, but that Etrigani loves Kaius III. She is working with Kaius I to defeat Illmarrow; once that task has been completed, he has promised to release the true Kaius III and return to the shadows.
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN FOR YOU?
If your adventurers are going to clash with the Emerald Claw or Lady Illmarrow, Etrigani and Kaius could be valuable allies. Etrigani has more freedom of movement than the king, but she’d still have a difficult time running around fighting Emerald Claw agents; but she has resources and information, and she could be an excellent patron for a group of adventurers. Etrigani could guide her agents both in dealing with agents of the Emerald Claw and also in seeking to maintain peace in Karrnath—dealing with rivalries and vendettas among the warlords, or even opposing Royal Eyes of Aundair or Dark Lanterns of Breland. On the other hand, if Etrigani is an agent of the Deathguard seeking Illmarrow’s phylactery, she could be a more powerful patron suited to more experienced adventurers, guiding them on ever more dangerous investigations into possible sites for the phylactery.
Regardless of this path, the DM can also explore the idea that Etrigani truly does want to learn more about the Seeker traditions—possibly, that she wants to try to soften the stance of the Deathguard and the Undying Court itself, to prove that when used wisely, Mabaran necromancy isn’t as dangerous as the Aereni believe.
Of course, there’s another option that could throw a twist into any of these stories. Etrigani has an unusual gift that allows her to communicate with the dead in a way most people cannot. She has a rebellious streak and doesn’t hold to the traditions of the Undying Court. What if she has a deeper secret? What if she has deep and distant ties to the Line of Vol, so distant they were ignored by the Undying Court in its purge? What if Etrigani is the first living elf in millenia to develop the Mark of Death? This would certainly explain her enthusiasm for leaving Aerenal far behind. Surely, she wouldn’t possess Erandis’s Apex Dragonmark (among other reasons, because such a mark would be physically difficult to conceal). But a living bearer of the Mark of Death could be the key to Erandis’s quest to somehow unlock the power of her dead dragonmark. Even if you don’t go down this path, Etrigani’s supernatural abilities could be a gift of Dolurrh’s Queen of the Dead… somehow tying into the Queen’s plans for Lady Illmarrow.
WHAT ABOUT REGENT MORANNA?
Moranna continues to serve as regent of Karrnath, a post that has been transformed from a stewardship to an advisory position. She never ventures far from the court or from Kaius’s side, except when he sends her out in his name to handle crises near and far. Moranna, a large, strong woman, has a commanding manner and a no-nonsense approach that leaves most of her underlings shaking in her wake.
That’s what the Eberron Campaign Setting has to say about Regent Moranna, and that remains true no matter which of the above stories you choose. Five Nations adds a little more to this: If the PCs undertake missions for the crown, Regent Moranna eventually becomes their patron and main contact point. Other than Kaius himself, she’s the most feared presence in Korth. Everyone knows she has some necromantic power, and it’s an open secret that she uses magic to give herself a deathlike pallor and some undead qualities.It complicates things a little by making Moranna an Aristocrat/Wizard, while the ECS had her as an Aristocrat/Sorcerer. Following the spirit of the text I’m inclined to agree with making her a necromancer wizard; alternately, Sorcerer levels could be used to reflect innate abilities. Because those same stories that say that Kaius I was a vampire say that he turned his granddaughter Moranna into a vampire as well, using her as his catspaw to manage things until he was finally ready to return.
Moranna’s basic position remains intact regardless of what story you choose. Whether she’s the king’s granddaughter, aunt, or spawn, she’s a trusted advisor and troubleshooter for the king. She is ruthless—lawful evil in alignment—and thus is untroubled by Etrigani’s empathy. I’m offering Etrigani as an alternative patron for adventurers serving the crown, but Moranna remains a possible patron, especially if their missions will take them down dark paths.
But is she a vampire? If Kaius I is a vampire, than Moranna is likely his spawn regardless of whether or not he is posing as Kaius III. As I’ve suggested, the idea is that Illmarrow can’t control Kaius’s spawn. If Kaius I is posing as Kaius III, she is his loyal aide as she always has been. If Kaius III is posing as Kaius I posing as Kaius III, then Moranna is the spawn of his great grandfather; she remains in her role of advisor and seeks to guide him down the path Kaius I would wish for him to follow; in this case, there could be tension between Etrigani and Moranna, given that Moranna is utterly ruthless and Etrigani would encourage the king to cultivate compassion. On the one hand, if Kaius III isn’t a vampire and Moranna is, she could be his bodyguard; on the other, in the same scenario, she could be a frightening watchdog appointed by Kaius I to make sure his descendant doesn’t lose his nerve. If, on the other hand, you decide that the stories of vampires are completely false, than Moranna may be exactly what she appears to be—the king’s aunt, a necromancer with a goth vibe and a cruel temperament. Or, it could be that she is still a vampire—and, perhaps, still the spawn of Kaius I—even if Kaius I has been destroyed and Kaius III is a living man.
Ultimately, the pieces remain the same. Kaius III is a relatively young king seeking peace and willing to be ruthless in his pursuit of it. Etrigani is his queen, a foreigner adapting to this new land and trying to balance her empathy with the harsh ways of Karrnath. And Moranna is the old advisor who is prepared to be the king’s heavy hand when needed. Are any of them vampires? That’s up to the DM to decide.
Kaius and Moranna blame the Blood of Vol for Karrnath’s failures in the Last War. Assuming Etrigani’s sympathies for the Seekers are legitimate, what are her opinions on the matter?
This isn’t a simple question. Because the fact that Kaius has publicly blamed Karrnath’s failings on the Blood of Vol doesn’t me that KAIUS actually believed that. The key example of this comes from the original Eberron Campaign Setting, which calls out that (following the K3 is K1 story) Kaius has a harem of devoted followers of the Blood of Vol who provide him with blood. I’ve always seen Kaius as oppressing the Blood of Vol for two reasons. The first was to eliminate LADY ILLMARROW’S influence in Karrnath — dissolving the Order of the Emerald Claw and targeting Illmarrow’s agents throughout the Seekers. The second is because Kaius needed to do something to change the story and unite the warlords behind him. The Seekers are scapegoats; blaming Karrnath’s failings on the Seekers lets the warlords reclaim their pride, to assert that they COULD have won if they’d just relied on pure Karrnathi steel. But in MY campaign, Kaius himself has never been against the common Seeker — as shown by the loyalty of his “blood bank.” Kaius is RUTHLESS. He is willing to make hard sacrifices to achieve his ends. In my opinion his persecution of the Seekers is exactly that — a sacrifice he made to cripple Illmarrow’s power base and strengthen his own position. Etrigani’s frequent presence in Atur reflects Kaius’s desire to maintain a connection to the true Seekers — even while he continues to persecute the Emerald Claw and Illmarrow’s loyalists.
That’s all for now! This question was posed by my Patreonsupporters, and it’s that support that makes articles like this possible. If you want to see more—or take part in live Q&A sessions—check out my Patreon!
Even an elf who’s pure of heart can become a wolf when Olarune is full… image by Matthew Johnson!
What makes a monster? There’s nothing inherently evil about the ability to assume the shape of a beast. Many Wardens of the Wood have this gift. The shifters speak of champions of Olarune, guardians of the wild that walk as bears or boars. Selkies and other fey shift their forms, but have no innate desire to harm the innocent. It is not the ability to change shape that makes a lycanthrope a monster; it’s the murderous spirit that hides within, regardless of the outer form. Surely you’ve heard the warnings—’Fear the wolves that walk among us,’ or ‘Beware the beast that wears a friendly face.’ It’s said that the first lycanthropes were created by the overlords to spread terror among the Children of Eberron. These creatures aren’t the deadliest monsters spawned by Khyber, but the fear they create can be far more dangerous than any wolf’s bite. How many communities have torn themselves apart trying to find hidden rats? Worse yet, those who fall to the bite of these beasts rise again as monsters themselves. Make no mistake: a werewolf may wear the face of someone you knew, but your friend’s soul is dissipating in Dolurrh. What you face is a murderous tool of the overlords which seeks to torment and kill the people its victim once loved.
—Dorius Alyre Ir’Korran, The Manual Maleficent
The lycanthrope is an iconic creature with a dramatic role in Eberron. In the ninth century the Church of the Silver Flame fought a brutal war against lycanthropes in the Towering Wood, hunting them nearly to extinction. But lycanthropes can still be found across Eberron. From the champions of Olarune to the Great Pack of Droaam and the Bilge Rats of Stormreach, lycanthropes remain. So I want to consider some of the traditional roles lycanthropes can play in a story, and then examine the latest interpretation of lycanthropy in the 2025 Monster Manual and consider what I’ll do with them in my campaign.
But before we go further, I want to shoot the were-elephant in the room. Lycanthrope means wolf man. So, why do we use it to refer to wererats, werebears, and more? Well, this is D&D, where medusas are a species and gorgons are bulls that breathe petrifying gas. It’s NOT an accurate term, but it’s the word the rules use, so I’m going ahead and using it here. Within the world, I would see “lycanthrope” as an esoteric term, if it’s used at all; I’d expect people in everyday life to call them skinchangers, shapeshifters, werecreatures, or to use words that have their roots in the languages spoken in the world.
LYCANTHROPE STORIES
Lycanthropes can appear in any adventure. But here’s a few themes to consider when dealing with lycanthropes.
Champions of Nature? Over time, lycanthropes have often been used in two very different story roles. On the one hand you have the idea of beings whose ability to assume animal form reflects a close bond to the natural world—where this ability is a gift and a blessing. Part of the problem with D&D is that it has always tried to fold these blessed lycanthropes under the same mechanical umbrella as the cursed predators. Typically it’s werebears that are always good—and yet, even in this latest edition, they follow all of the same rules as the predators, including spreading their supposed gift in the same way as those that carry it as a curse. In Eberron we separated species and alignment—saying that alignment was tied by strain, so the blessing made you good and the curse made you evil, and you could have good werewolves and evil werebears. Starting with this article I’m going to take it a step further and establish clear mechanical distinctions between these gifted and cursed lycanthropes. Most of the rest of these points deal with the cursed lycanthropes—as they are the monsters.
Fear of the Wild. When you set aside the blessed lycanthropes and focus on the cursed, the first thing to remember is that there’s nothing natural about them. Real wolves rarely prey upon humans, but cursed werewolves are driven to prey upon humanoids; some editions call out that evil lycanthropes explicitly prey on the people they loved in their former life. Cursed lycanthropes aren’t natural wolves, they’re metaphorical wolves; they’re the Big Bad Wolf from faerie tales. They embody people’s fears of the wild and more directly of the hidden predator. REAL rats don’t actively scheme and intentionally spread disease; but wererats undermine and infest the cities they dwell in. When dealing with the cursed lycanthropes, remember that you’re dealing with the products of demons and daelkyr; they are a mockery of the natural world, not a celebration of it.
A Corrupting Force. In some editions of D&D, people can fight the Curse of Lycanthropy. But in most editions, there is at least a period where a cursed individual loses control of their actions—and in many, a path by which the cursed individual’s morality and personality are eroded until they are fully shaped by the predatory drives of the curse. Because of this, anyone can become a murderous lycanthrope. Even a man who is pure of heart and says his prayers by night can become a wolf when the moon is full… Because of this, the Curse is a force that can turn allies, friends, and loved ones into deadly enemies. It is a threat even a player can struggle with. The image of the good person chaining themselves in the basement when the full moon is on the rise is a key aspect of this story: the person who doesn’t WANT to hurt anyone, but who knows that they are going to become a murderous monster. To me, this is a key element of what makes lycanthropes compelling enemies: their ability to corrupt the innocent, and the terror that they could turn YOU into a monster. When dealing with cursed lycanthropes, the DM must decide on the intensity of the curse and what it drives its victims to do. Are they driven to murder innocents and spread terror? Are they drawn to serve the cause of an overlord or daelkyr? Can the curse be resisted or overcome?
A Hidden Threat. Lycanthropes can be a challenging enemy. But what makes them terrifying is their ability to hide among innocent people—made worse by the curse’s power to corrupt those innocents. When you arrive in a small town, anyone could be a murderous werewolf waiting for the moment to strike. If you find one wererat, you can be sure that there’s more scheming in the shadows. While this can be a challenge for adventurers, the fear of other innocents can be an even greater problem; as anyone who’s played any form of Are You A Werewolf knows, innocent people can often be hurt as panicked townsfolk hunt for the wolves in their midst. Imagine a group of adventurers arrive in a small town, with a task that will take them a week to complete. That night someone is murdered by a beast—and someone accuses the adventurers of harboring a werewolf. Can the adventurers prove their innocence? Can they be entirely certain one of them isn’t a werewolf? Can they find the true threat? A twist on this is if it’s not a lone wolf, but rather that there’s a well-established faction of lycanthropes who play important roles in the town; the “murderous wolf” could be a rebel member of the line, or from a rival clan who wants the adventurers to expose the family. But is that actually what’s best for the town? Typically, there’s no way to identify a lycanthrope while it’s in its animal form, and this is one reason lycanthropes fight in beast form instead of just murdering people with weapons. But stories often play with the idea that a severe injury to a lycanthrope in beast form might be retained in their humanoid form—so the butcher suddenly has a limp after the battlemaster tripped up the wolf that eventually got away.
An Unexpected Challenge. One of the things that’s compelling about lycanthropes is the fact that the typical methods and tools adventurers use may not suffice to defeat them. Perhaps the adventurers are dealing with a local crime lord, a crooked sheriff, or a cultist… and it’s all a simple, clear story until the villain laughs at the steel sword plunged through his heart. While there are issues with this, which is why 2025 has removed it, to me the challenge of you need to UNDERSTAND what you’re fighting and to find the tools you’ll need to defeat it is a fun story and makes dealing with lycanthropes a very different experience from fighting random thugs. With that in mind, what I suggest below is changing the vulnerabilities by strain. The point is to add an aspect that goes beyond the pure wargame of combat and that drives the adventurers to investigate, to learn HOW to defeat their foe.
A Feral Apocalypse. Under the 2025 rules, lycanthropy can spread with astonishing speed. What happens when the wolves aren’t hiding, and instead mount an all out assault to spread their curse through a community? Can the adventurers find a way to contain this outbreak before it’s too late? Perhaps the adventurers are in a Vadalis enclave when an artificial strain of lycanthropy is released; can they prevent it from spreading out into the city?
Stat Block from the 2025 Monster Manual
THE 2025 MONSTER MANUAL
The 2025 Monster Manual is out. It includes the five familiar lycanthropes—werewolves, wererats, werebears, weretigers, and wereboars. It gives some loose lore suggestions—werebears are good and work with druids and fey! Werewolves are evil and some change when the moon is full! Weretigers consider their powers to be a family gift and like to protect things! However, the core mechanics are the same for all five types of lycanthrope and there are two major changes to the 2014 version.
Silver Doesn’t Matter. Under the 2025 rules, lycanthropes have no resistance or immunity to normal weapons. They don’t have any sort of regeneration. Silver isn’t mentioned in their stat blocks or lore. Instead, the DMG makes silvered weapons a common form of magic item that adds additional damage if you score a critical hit against any sort of shapeshifted creature. There’s understandable reasons for this. It’s difficult to calculate CR for a creature with a situational immunity, because if the party is properly equipped the immunity has no impact at all, while if they don’t have the weapons they need it can be nearly impossible to defeat an enemy. As mentioned above, I like challenging a group of adventurers to find the tools they need; but for the casual DM or inexperienced players it can be a can of worms. So I understand the decision, but I don’t like it—and as a result, I’m suggesting alternatives later in this article.
The Curse is Instant and Brutal. In most editions of D&D, the curse of lycanthropy is a slow affliction, something that might not even bother you until there’s a full moon. In many editions, player characters could become lycanthropes, using a template or just simple modifications to their character. Neither of these things are true in 2025. All of the five lycanthropes in the Monster Manual have the following effect on their bite attack (replacing ‘werewolf’ with the appropriate lycanthrope): The target is cursed. If the cursed target drops to 0 hit points it instead becomes a Werewolf under the DM’s control and has 10 hit points. The bolded text is part of the description, and indicates that the new creature uses the werewolf stat block. Let’s run down the effects and implications of this.
The change happens instantaneously. The moon has nothing to do with it, and once you are cursed there’s no way to resist changing and turning on your allies when you drop to zero hit points.
When you turn into a lycanthrope, you use the appropriate lycanthrope stat block and fall under the DM’s control. It’s not a template, meaning that the new lycanthrope has none of your skills or abilities. It is effectively a new creature summoned when you fall.
The 2014 Monster Manual included rules for player characters becoming lycanthropes. The 2024 book does not, because again, it’s not a template. You don’t gain new abilities when you are turned into a werewolf; you lose all the skills and abilities you had and become an NPC under the DM’s control.
I read this in the way that Dorius describes it in the Manual Maleficent. For all intents and purposes, you die when you drop to zero hit points while cursed; an entirely new creature steps in and steals your body. What’s left isn’t you any more. This is a very clear and clean effect for a wargame. But in my opinion it loses most of the drama traditionally associated with the werewolf story—the struggle to resist the curse, chaining yourself in the basement when the full moon is rising. Instead, it’s far closer to a traditional zombie apocalypse scenario, where the bite of a zombie can transform a victim within minutes and turns them into a loyal member of the ravening horde. Under this model, a single werewolf could set the destruction of a village in motion within minutes. It serves a purpose, and it works well for the cursed victims of the Wild Heart. But I want more options to exist within my campaign.
Can it be cured? The entry has no direct explanation of how lycanthropy can be cured. The text of the effect is The target is cursed. If the cursed target drops to zero hit points, it instead becomes a werewolf under the DM’s control. There’s no question that if you reach the victim BEFORE they drop to zero hit points, you can negate this with remove curse. But what happens AFTER they are transformed? A gentle interpretation is that the ongoing state of being a werewolf is considered to be a standard “curse” and that as such, it can be removed at any time with a simple remove curse. A harsher interpretation—which I personally subscribe to—is that the effect of the curse is “transform you into a werewolf when you drop to zero hit points,” and that once that occurs, the new werewolf is no longer under the effect of a curse.
The 3.5 rules of D&D had more detailed rules for the curing lycanthropy. Under these rules, a cleric of 12th level or higher could cure it magically if the cure was performed within three days of incurring lycanthropy. After that point, it could only be cured if the victim underwent remove curse or break enchantment during a night of the full moon, and at that point they had to succeed on a DC 20 saving throw (and consider that an unwilling creature can always choose to fail a saving throw!). To me, the ultimate issue is that remove curse isn’t a high level spell. At 3rd level, it’s part of every day life in the world. If that’s all it takes to curse any lycanthrope… it strips a lot of the fear and drama from the story. The idea of the lycanthropic purge is that terrible things were done in the name of rooting out hidden lycanthropes; if all it takes is casting remove curse and oh, job’s done, that’s not much of a story. On the other hand, the 3.5 rules were based on the model that it would TAKE days for someone to succumb to lycanthropy, during which time they could seek a cure. The 2025 rules strip that away; if there’s no way to cure the affliction after that initial transformation, it’s pretty ruthless. Ultimately, the way I see it is that 2025 lycanthropy is a form of death; it’s an alternative condition to dying. Remove curse is a 3rd level spell, on par with revivify. Like revify, it should be a valid option if you use it quickly; but after a little time has passed, you need something more powerful, on the level of raise dead—such as the 5th level greater restoration. Even then, I’d want to add an element of challenge—the equivalent of the 3.5 saving throw requirement—that also prevents you from just being able to strip away, say, Zaeurl’s lycanthropy with a simple spell.
So with that in mind, here’s what I’ll do; you’ll have to decide what makes sense in your campaign!
Lycanthropes who are born with the condition (IE Changing Folk) or who receive it as a gift (Ollarune’s Blessing) or through an item or bargain (Skinweavers) can’t be cured. Likewise, exceptionally powerful lycanthropes—the creatures I call “alphas” in the later sections—can’t be cured.
Remove curse can remove lycanthropy before it is triggered (by the victim dropping to zero hit points), or if it is administered within a day of the initial transformation. Greater restoration can remove the curse of lycanthropy up to a month after the initial transformation. Wish or spells of similar power can always remove lycanthropy.
If someone wishes cast remove curse, greater restoration, or a similar spell on an unwilling victim—such as a hostile lycanthrope—they must make a successful spell attack roll against the target and the victim gets to make a Wisdom saving throw to resist the effect.
There may be another way to curse a specific lycanthrope based on the story behind the strain. Perhaps there’s a celestial relic, a rare herb charged with the energies of Irian, or an experimental treatment House Jorasco and House Vadalis have been working on that can cure a lycanthrope. The point is that this is an interesting story—not just the expenditure of a spell slot.
Ultimately, the 2025 Lycanthrope is a platform to work with. To start with, I’m going to suggest some variant abilities that could be added to existing lycanthropes. Next, I’ll talk about the ways I’d combine those options with lycanthropes we’ve already mentioned in canon and kanon lore, along with some other ideas. Of course, the ideas for lycanthrope strains are still valid even if you don’t use the 2025 rules!
VARIANT TRAITS
These abilities could be added to a current lycanthrope. With that said, there’s no direct way to map them to an increase in CR, because the impact on combat will be entirely dependent on the degree to which your adventurers are prepared for the challenge. As such, it’s up to you as a DM to consider how these changes will affect the encounters you’re setting up—and to reward your players for overcoming greater challenges. A few other things to consider:
Bane materials. In a number of these abilities I refer to bane materials. It’s an interesting challenge to have an enemy who can’t be killed or slain by normal weapons. But now that it’s not part of the stat block, there’s no reason that weakness has to involve silver. It’s an easy choice and thematically appropriate for the children of the Wild Heart, supporting the Silver Flame and the Silver Crusade. But it makes sense to me that lycanthropes created by the daelkyr would be vulnerable to byeshk rather than silver. Meanwhile, champions of Olarune might be resistant to harm from all worked metals, but vulnerable to weapons made solely of wood. If you want to get wild, a fey lycanthrope could have a weakness tied to their own story: perhaps they can only be hurt by a weapon dipped in tears, or they take no damage from anyone who has the frightened condition. The key to introducing a new sort of bane is that there needs to be a straightforward way for the adventurers to uncover it. Consider whether the weakness is simply common knowledge; after the Silver Crusade, it makes sense that MOST people know that silver is a common bane for lycanthropes. If a creature has a different bane, how are the adventurers supposed to find out about it? Is it just a skill check? Is there a sage or a library who knows the answer? You want this to be a challenge for your players, not a source of sheer frustration.
Limited by Form? A second question to keep in mind is whether a trait is restricted to certain forms. The lycanthropes of the 2014 Monster Manual possess their damage immunity in all of their shapes. But if a lycanthrope only possesses invulnerability in its beast or hybrid forms, it gives them a concrete REASON to fight in animal form rather than to use weapons and equipment while still benefiting from invulnerability in humanoid form. It also solves the question of whether you can easily test for werewolves by inflicting minor injuries on them in humanoid form.
WEAPON IMMUNITY. The lycanthrope is immune to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage unless it’s dealt by a weapon made from their bane material. This is the most extreme version of this trait, and can be frustrating for melee-focused characters. Consider what options are available for them. Can they improvise a weapon using the bane material available to them? Can they hit the enemy with a torch? A second question is what this invulnerability LOOKS like. Does a sword bounce off them? Does it injure them, but the wound heals right away? Do they get injured, but don’t react to the damage—continuing to fight even with arrows piercing their body? If this invulnerability manifests in humanoid form, this could be an easy way to reveal a lycanthrope.
WEAPON RESISTANCE. The lycanthrope is resistant to bludgeoning, piercing, and slashing damage unless it’s dealt by a weapon made from their bane material. This means that a melee-focused character CAN choose to ignore the trait and fight using their normal weapons and techniques; it will be harder, but it’s possible.
REGENERATION. The lycanthrope regains 10 hit points at the start of each of its turns. If the lycanthrope takes damage from a weapon made from its bane material, this trait doesn’t function at the start of the lycanthrope’s next turn. The lycanthrope dies only if it starts its turn with 0 hit points and doesn’t regenerate. Drawn from the loup garou from Van Richten’s Guide To Ravenloft, this trait has the advantage that it’s just as relevant to spellcasters as it is to warriors. It’s not simply that swords won’t kill the wolf—it will recover from fire and acid as well, rising again and again until someone finishes it off using its bane. I like the flavor of this more than simple immunity, but even more than immunity, if the adventurers don’t have knowledge of and access to the bane material, you’re placing them in an impossible situation. Beyond the bane material, you could choose to add other damage types that would have the same effect; lycanthropes tied to the overlords might be hurt both by silvered weapons and by radiant damage.
UNNATURAL VITALITY. When the lycanthrope is reduced to zero hit points, it enters a cataleptic state that is indistinguishable from death. It appears to be dead to outward observation and spells used to determine the lycanthrope’s status. While in this state it has the blinded and incapacitated conditions and its speed is zero. It remains in this state until it suffers any damage from a weapon forged from its bane material, at which point it dies; or until the moon rises, at which point the state ends and the lycanthrope gains the benefits of a long rest. This trait has a powerful long-term effect, but doesn’t change the balance of combat. Adventurers can defeat the lycanthrope using all their usual weapons and spells, but unless they know what it is and how to kill it, it will rise again. This is ideal for a slow burn story, where adventurers face a villain and don’t realize they’re a supernatural creature until they’ve killed the villain once only to have them return the next day. A question to consider is whether there are any ways to get around this. If the lycanthrope is dismembered, will that kill it? Will it reconstitute itself at nightfall? Or will it remain ‘dead’ until the pieces are brought back together, at which point it will rise again? This can allow for a cult that steals the preserved head of a long-dead lycanthrope from some vault, because they’ve located the rest of his body…
NO INFECTION. This lycanthrope does not curse its victim with its bite attack. For creatures where the condition of lycanthropy is a blessing rather than a curse, it doesn’t make much sense to spread it like a zombie plague.
ONGOING INFECTION. When a creature is cursed by the lycanthrope’s bite, their hit point maximum is reduced by the damage of the bite attack. This damage cannot be undone until the curse is removed. When the cursed creature attempts to take a long rest, they must make a Wisdom saving throw (DC 12); the DC is increased by 1 for each full moon. If the cursed creature fails the saving throw, they become a lycanthrope under the DM’s control. Once this occurs the curse is lifted and their hit point maximum is restored; at this point they are a lycanthrope, and the condition can only be removed by a wish or similar level of power. At the DM’s discretion, the character could remain in control of their actions while in their humanoid form, but have to make the Wisdom saving throw every time they attempt a long rest, losing control and becoming a lycanthrope whenever they fail. This retains the idea that a victim could carry the curse for a while, struggling against it. It keeps the simplicity of the 2025 approach in that when the victim transforms, they become a lycanthrope of the appropriate type under the DM’s control; it’s not a template, and they don’t retain any of their skills or class features. When using this approach, the DM could make removing the curse more difficult than simply casting a spell; perhaps the victim needs to acquire a certain herb, or be stabbed with a weapon made from the lycanthrope’s bane material to ‘kill the curse.’
SLOW INFECTION. This follows the rules for the Ongoing Infection, but the victim cannot be transformed by dropping to zero hit points; they can ONLY be transformed by failing a saving throw while taking a long rest.
FERAL BOND. The lycanthrope can cast animal friendship, speak with animals and beast sense at will, but only targeting beasts of the same type as the lycanthrope’s beast form. For a guardian of nature, this reflects the lycanthrope’s connection to the natural world. For a cursed lycanthrope, this represents their ability to corrupt nature and twist it to serve their purposes.
RESTRICTED SHAPE-SHIFT. The lycanthrope can only use its Shape-Shift bonus action when certain conditions are met. This could require the lycanthrope to be in possession of a particular object, such as a wolfskin belt or a set of hide armor. It could be limited to a certain time or place—they can only change while illuminated by moonlight. It could require the lycanthrope to spill blood, or even only be possible when the lycanthrope reduces a humanoid creature to zero hit points. The DM must also decide whether this applies in all forms. It could be that a cultist of the Wild Heart can enter wolf form at will, but can only return to humanoid form when they reduce a creature to zero hit points. Once they accept the gift, they HAVE to kill, or else be trapped in animal form.
BESTIAL SHAPE-SHIFT. When this lycanthrope uses the Shape-Shift bonus action, they can only assume an animal form or their true humanoid form; they do not have a hybrid form. This is an option to distinguish a strain and prevents them from relying on weapons when they aren’t in humanoid form.
STRAINS OF LYCANTHROPY
Canon lore provides no absolute origin for lycanthropy. It’s suggested that it could be tied to Eberron, Lamannia, or Olarune; and that this gift could have been corrupted by an overlord or by the daelkyr. Some believe shifters are descended from lycanthropes; some say that the reverse is true, and that the first lycanthropes were blessed shifters. To all of this, I say why not both? I describe six strains of lycanthropy here. Of these, skinchangers are by far the most common. Most people have only heard of the others in stories, if that; it’s up to you to decide if any of these exist in YOUR Eberron.
SKINCHANGERS
Typically Found In: Anywhere in Khorvaire, especially the Towering Wood and Demon Wastes.
Animal Forms: Typically Wolf and Rat, though any predatory creature is possible.
Typical Variant Traits: (Typically) Resistant to physical damage unless caused by silvered weapons; (Alpha skinchangers) Immune to physical damage unless caused by silvered weapons, Feral Bond
When people in Eberron curse the “wolves that walk among us,” they’re talking about skinchangers. This is an ancient affliction first unleashed at the dawn of creation to turn the children of Eberron against one another. Skinchangers are predators whose primary purpose is to sow fear—murdering innocents in the form of beasts, and tearing communities apart from within. Skinchanger is a broad category that has many substrains within it. Each of these strains is tied to a particular overlord and to a particular animal form: so werewolves of the Wild Heart only create other werewolves, while skinchanger serpents of the Cold Sun only create other wereserpents. The skinchangers of the Wild Heart are the most widespread and diverse in their forms, though Wolf and Rat are by far the most common; beyond this, the curse of the Wild Heart is only associated with predatory creatures.
The skinchanger curse is a cousin to fiendish possession; when the curse takes hold, it overrides the morality and memories of the victim, immediately corrupting them and turning them to the purpose of the pack. Victims usually retain some of the memories of their previous life, allowing them to maintain a masquerade, but even the most virtuous person will become a monster under the influence of the curse. So what are they driven to do? That depends on the overlord, but the general directive is to sow fear. Murder is a powerful tool in this direction, but if there’s one werewolf in a village, they won’t just kill everyone else in the village, even if they could; what the overlord wants is people living in fear. They might murder one person every month or even every year, just enough to keep the fear alive; or they might time their killings for when strangers arrive in town, turning the villagers against the newcomers. The werewolf is the favored child of the Wild Heart, but the strongest strains of wererat are associated with Eldrantulku. The Oathbreaker’s rats occasionally spread disease, but what they love most is to spread corruption, infiltrating institutions and spreading graft and schemes. Where the Wild Heart wants people to fear nature, Eldrantulku wants people to fear one another, to believe that everyone is corrupt and that no system can be trusted.
With this said, the influence of the overlords waxes and wanes. During the Silver Crusade, the Wild Heart was close to release and was able to turn all skinchangers to its cause, driving them to cause a feral apocalypse. Currently, the power of the Wild Heart is weak, and the surviving skinchangers of its strains are largely left to their own devices—as seen in the Great Pack of Droaam. Most are still instinctively predatory and cruel, driven to intimidate and to hunt, but their primary loyalty is the alpha of their pack and whatever their goal may be. This can also be seen in the wererats of Stormreach, who are instinctively loyal to their leader. Likewise, keep in mind that most lycanthropes aren’t aware of their connection to an overlord. The wererats of Stormreach are a corrupting force in the city, but they think they work for Cartha; they aren’t chanting the name of Eldrantulku. A pack of lycanthropes can also be a cult of the Dragon Below, but it’s not automatic.
The best known trait of skinchangers is their resistance to physical damage, save the touch of silver. Most skinchangers can be hurt by other attacks, but only silver strikes true. More powerful alpha skinchangers are fully immune to physical damage save for wounds caused by silver. Skinchangers will appear to be hurt by mundane means, but they just don’t feel pain or suffer the full consequences of those injuries. So a simple cut on the palm isn’t enough to tell if a person is a skinchanger. During the lycanthropic purge, countless innocents were slain while undergoing tests to determine if they possessed a skinchanger’s resistance…
The ability of skinchangers to pass on their curse is also something that waxes and wanes. During the Silver Crusade, the curse was instantly infectious and followed the rules as presented in the 2025 Monster Manual. After the Crusade, it became far less potent, following the Slow Infection rules. It’s up to the DM to decide whether a particular strain uses the standard rules or if they only have the Slow Infection. It’s also worth noting that while the Church of the Silver Flame did its best to wipe out skinchangers, it’s impossible to truly exterminate them. It’s certainly rare, but the overlords can always reseed the curse. A leader of a cult of the Dragon Below can become a newborn alpha skinchanger. There are cursed artifacts that will infect those that carry them with the skinchanger curse. And there are truly ancient skinchangers with Unnatural Vitality, who have been buried—in some cases, their bodies cut in pieces and scattered—who wait to be released again.
SKINWEAVERS
Typically Found: Near Thelanian manifest zones
Animal Forms: Any
Typical Variant Traits: No Infection, Restricted Shape-Shift, Bestial Shape-Shift; Weapon Immunity and Unnatural Vitality (usually Silver, Beast Form only)
The classic skinweaver is a cultist of Sul Khatesh or Eldrantulku who receives a skinweaver’s pelt—often a belt or cloak—that allows them to assume the form of a beast. They must pay for this gift with innocent blood; in some cases they can’t transform back to their humanoid form until they murder an innocent. While in beast form, a Skinweaver is protected from harm. Even if they are killed while in beast form, their Unnatural Vitality will protect them unless they are skinned; they remain in beast form while in their cataleptic state.
Skinweavers are usually agents of chaos who revel in their bestial power, or who wish to pursue a feud without fear of retribution. Those tied to fiends are typically vulnerable to silver. However, an archfey or animal lord could also grant a skinweaver’s pelt; in this case, their bane material would be tied to the story of the fey. Such lycanthropes wouldn’t have to be evil; there are tales in our world of benevolent fey who require a magical pelt to change shape, which can be stolen by unscrupulous mortals.
Skinweavers are extremely rare and don’t spawn other lycanthropes. A skinweaver’s pelt has no innate power of its own; the would-be wearer must activate it by making a pact with the entity that created it. A skinweaver’s pelt does have one special property: it transforms along with the victim when they assume their bestial form, reappearing when they return to their humanoid form.
DYRRN’S CORRUPTED
Typically Found: Near entrances to Khyber or in Cults of the Dragon Below
Animal Forms: Any
Typical Variant Traits: Regeneration (Byeshk, hereditary lycanthrope); Ongoing Infection (hereditary lycanthrope) or No Infection (afflicted lycanthrope); Bestial Shape-Shift
The daelkyr Dyrrn created this curse and cast it into the world. It spreads along two vectors. It is hereditary, and Corrupted lycanthropes pass the curse to their offspring. It can also be transmitted using the standard rules, with the Ongoing Infection variation. However, only lycanthropes born with the curse can transmit the curse; those transformed through a bite cannot spread the curse any further.
Each strain of Dyrrn’s Corruption is associated with an alignment (typically neutral or evil), a beast type, and a moon… for example, neutral tigers tied to Rhaan. With that said, the bestial forms of Corrupted lycanthropes are typically unnatural in some way (which is consistent throughout a particular strain). Those neutral tigers might have translucent skin and fur, or barbed tongues instead of teeth, or extra tails that are actually lamprey-like tentacles. This could result in additional abilities in animal form—a climb speed, swim speed, unusual attack, or something similar. In addition, hereditary Corrupted lycanthropes are very difficult to kill; they possess regeneration that can only be countered by byeshk. So a hereditary Corrupted lycanthrope can spread its curse quickly, the lycanthropes it spawns in this way cannot create new spawn of their own and are easier to kill.
When Dyrrn’s Corruption takes hold, it destroys the personality and many of the memories of the victim. While there are neutral strains, they are alien in their outlook, and a player character overtaken by the curse will become an NPC. Each strain of corrupted lycanthropy is driven by its own inscrutable instincts. Some are aggressive or act as Cults of the Dragon Below; others are simply enigmatic, creating strange monuments in the wild or howling in eerie choirs.
OLARUNE’S BLESSED (spirit walkers, the Second Life)
Typically Found In: The Eldeen Reaches, Talenta Plains, Qaltiar drow
Animal Forms:Any, including non-predatory beasts.
Typical Variant Traits: No Infection; Resistance to damage caused by metal weapons (Beast Form Only); Bestial Shape-Shift; Feral Bond
Olarune’s Blessing is no curse. It is a gift that is occasionally granted to champions of the wild, especially shifters, rangers, and barbarians. The Moonspeaker druids of the Towering Woods say that this power flows from the moon Olarune, and this is the source of the name; and certainly, those that carry the give feel the desire to roam in their beast forms when Olarune is full, though they do not lose control. Others say that the power flows from Lamannia or Eberron itself. What is certain is that this gift is usually granted to people who already have some connection to primal magic, and that those who receive Olarune’s Blessing feel a strong drive to protect the natural world and its creatures. Olarune’s Blessing manifests spontaneously and can’t be passed on. Some of those who receive the gift have ecstatic visions of a glowing figure charging them to defend the wild; others discover the blessing with no prior sign or warning. Those who carry the curse often possess resistance to damage inflicted by metal weapons, but this doesn’t shield them from unarmed strikes, falling damage, or attacks made with weapons of wood, stone, or bone.
Humanoids who carry Olarune’s Blessing gain the ability to assume the form of a beast that is respected or revered in the region in which they are blessed, and usually feel compelled to embody the positive traits associated with that animal. The bear is a common shape for the blessed in the Eldeen Reaches. However, any animal is possible, including non-predatory animals.
In the Talenta Plains, this gift is known as theSecond Life; typically, it is found among skilled hunters who have lost their dinosaur companions, and who gain the ability to assume the form of that creature. The gift is also found among the Qaltiar culture of the drow in Xen’drik, where the blessed are known as spirit walkers.
THE CHANGING FOLK
Typically Found: Near Thelanian manifest zones
Animal Forms: Any
Typical Variant Traits: No Infection
There are countless stories of people who are also animals—the Bears that Built a Barn, Brother Fox and his Wily Ways, the Wagons of the Wandering Wolves. Most scholars say these tales are inspired by shifters. But in the Moonlit Vale of Thelanis there are people who embody these tales, peaceful folk who shift freely between humanoid and bestial form. A few families of the Changing Folk have found their way into Eberron. Most seek to keep their distance from the outer world, remaining in isolation in Thelanian manifest zones and dwelling in their stories… but a few yearn for adventure and travel into the world beyond.
Changing Folk aren’t cursed and can’t transform other creatures. Those born in Thelanis are fey, and they wither if they travel too far from Thelanis or manifest zones; those born in Eberron are humanoids. They are exceptionally rare, and most people in the Five Nations have never met one of the Changing Folk.
If a player character wished to be one of the Changing Folk, the simplest way to simulate it would be to play a shifter druid, characterizing the Wild Shape ability as an expansion of their natural abilities.
PUPPETEERS
Typically Found: Anywhere, especially Talenta Plains and Demon Wastes.
Animal Forms: Any predatory creature
Typical Variant Traits: Alpha only – Weapon Immunity (see below) and Unnatural Vitality
Puppeteers are a variation of skinchanger lycanthropes. The skinchanger curse changes a victim’s morality and loyalty, but they still retain some memory of their former life. The puppeteer curse is a malevolent spirit, and it takes full possession of the creatures that succumb to its curse. While puppeteer lycanthropes are living creatures, in many ways they are effectively undead; the mortal soul has left the body, and all that’s left is a shell being manipulated by the spirit. The puppeteers of a particular pack are all controlled by a single mind, and are thus aware of everything experienced by members of their pack. If they choose, they can speak with one voice; however, the puppeteer can also maintain a semblance of autonomy among its pack members, though it can struggle if multiple members of the pack are required to engage in complex tasks or conversations at once.
A puppeteer can only maintain a certain number of pack members; it’s up to the DM to decide what this is. As long as it is below that number, it uses the standard rules for spreading the curse and transforming victims found in the 2025 Monster Manual. Once the maximum pack size has been reached, members of the pack lose the ability to transmit the curse, and any cursed creatures who haven’t been transformed lose the curse. The ability is regained as soon as a member of the pack is slain. A creature under the protection of Protection from Evil and Good or other effects that protect against possession cannot be affected by the puppeteer’s curse.
Each puppeteer pack has an alpha member who possesses Weapon Immunity and Unnatural Vitality. As long as the alpha remains alive, the spirit can always restore its pack. If the alpha is slain—fully slain, accounting for its Unnatural Vitality—all of the other members of the pack fall into a cataleptic state. It’s up to the DM to decide if they can be cured and restored at that point—or if they are truly dead.
There are two distinct forms of puppeteer, and this determines the nature of the puppeteer’s bane material.
Fiendish puppeteers are vulnerable to silver. Their beast forms are hideous and move in unnatural ways. They are typically driven by native fiends associated with Eldrantulku or the Wild Heart, though they don’t necessarily serve the interests of their overlords. While in beast form, a fiendish puppeteer’s creature type changes to fiend.
Undead puppeteers are driven by cursed or restless spirits. They are vulnerable to weapons made from the bones of their original body, weapons they owned in life, or the weapon that originally killed them; they will also permanently die if they are buried in hallowed ground. Undead puppeteers typically have smaller packs than fiends. Their bestial forms appear to be dead, with exposed bone and dried blood. While in beast form, an undead puppeteer’s creature type changes to fiend.
Puppeteers are extremely rare; they’ve been encountered in the Talenta Plains and the Demon Wastes. The Mournland could be another place to find an undead puppeteer!
LYCANTHROPES IN THE WIDER WORLD
Most of the ideas I’ve discussed here refer to lycanthropes in isolation. But how do they interact with other forces, like the Dreaming Dark or the dragonmarked houses? First of all, most strains of lycanthropy are very rare. Skinchangers have always been the most common and widespread, but they were hunted almost to extinction during the Silver Crusade. As I’ve mentioned, it’s impossible to utterly destroyed skinchangers because the overlords can make more—but they are still rare today and still hunted by the templars and other forces when they appear within the Five Nations. There can be a nest of wererats in Fairhaven if you want there to be… but they’d want to be quiet and clever about it. Beyond this, cursed lycanthropes typically have an enforced loyalty to their creators and their pack, which prevents a lot of casual alliances. A PACK may make an alliance—as seen with the Great Pack of Droaam allying with the Daughters of Sora Kell or the wererats of Stormreach allying with the Boromar Clan—but you don’t have a lot of individual cursed lycanthropes breaking away from their creators. Uncursed lycanthropes are another story; there are blessed lycanthropes among the Wardens and Moonspeakers in the Eldeen Reaches, and you could easily have a Skinweaver concordian in the Aurum. In general, however, the broad idea is that lycanthropes are a thing that people know exist and that they are afraid of—but that since the Silver Crusade, few people expect to actually see one.
I hope this has given you some inspiration for your stories. If you want more, check out my Patreonfor bonus material tied to Olarune’s Blessing, including a supernatural gift for adventurers and discussion of lycanthropes tied to other beasts. It’s my patrons who make articles like this possible—if you’re already a patron, thank you for your support!
In the dawn of time, Eberron was the domain of the fiendish overlords… Rak Tulkesh, the Rage of War, commanded armies of vicious fiends, while the Wild Heart raised hordes of ravenous beasts. In the struggles between the two, the Wild Heart bred dire hyenas with the ability to consume the immortal essences of the Zakya warriors of Rak Tulkhesh. But the Wild Heart failed to anticipate how consuming fiends would affect its creations. Twisted from within by the immortal essence of the demons they’d devoured, the hyenas were warped into something entirely new, something that was neither beast nor demon: and so the first gnolls were born. Formed from both War and the Wild, gnolls were recruited and bred by both Rak Tulkhesh and the Wild Heart… Even after the overlords were defeated and bound by the Silver Flame, gnolls continued to be their pawns. The fiendish spark burned within them, and when they weren’t directly serving the Lords of Dust, most engaged in savage acts of brutality. The Rage of War seeks endless battle, and when there is no greater conflict, it delights in setting its minions against one another. For countless generations, gnolls fought troll, ogre, and other gnolls seeking blood for their hungry idols. Then, centuries ago, two gnolls from rival clans faced one another on a battlefield soaked in the blood of their kin—then questioned the path that had led them there. The two urged others to deny the voice that called for endless war, to refuse to chase death in the service of a fiend. Two became four, then eight, until entire clans heeded the call. Clan leaders dragged their idols to the place now known as Znir—a word that simply means “stone”—and there, they shattered the images of the fiends they once served.
As time permits, I like to answer interesting questions posed by my Patreon supporters. Here’s one from this month…
How would you incorporate Gnolls as Fiends? The 2025 Monster Manual and Flee, Mortals! both type Gnolls as full-fledged fiends rather than simply demon-worshipping humanoids.
Eberron was created for third edition. When a new edition changes the default lore, there’s always the question of how to respond to it. Should we change Eberron to adapt to the latest change, or should we maintain the integrity of the setting’s original lore even if it is contradicted by the latest set of rules? There’s one dramatic example of this in the original setting itself. Eberron was designed while the original third edition rules were in effect. Under those rules, afflicted lycanthropes could spread the curse of lycanthropy, which creates the potential for an exponential spread—one lycanthrope can bite five people, who each become lycanthropes that bite five people, who each become lycanthropes and before you know it, the entire population of Aundair is howling at the moons. It was with this in mind that we instituted the idea of the Silver Crusade, a brutal effort to eradicate lycanthropy—because as depicted, lycanthropy was something that could be seen as an existential threat. Except that D&D was evolving as Eberron was developed, and under the 3.5 rules, afflicted lycanthropes couldn’t spread the affliction… making the crusade seem arbitrary and cruel. With this in mind, we added an explanation that bridged the gap between the two editions—saying that at the time of the Silver Crusade, lycanthropy WAS infectious; the actions of the templars and Moonspeakers broke this power, leaving the curse in its weaker 3.5 form.
This is my preferred approach. I don’t want to simply ignore the new rules, but I also don’t want to undermine unique aspects of Eberron. So my question is always if there’s a way to maintain the original concept while also incorporating the current rules.
So first of all, in making gnolls fiends, I would emphasize the horror of that concept. The 2025 Monster Manual calls them Fiends in Feral Flesh, and I’d really double down on that. The point is that these aren’t just humanoids that have decided to be cruel—they are shells housing ravenous immortal spirits of pure evil. I would go straight to The Exorcist and play up the deeply unnatural nature of this. In describing fiendish gnolls, I’d depict the fiend within twisting their bodies—hearing bones snap and reknit as their jaws extend to impossible width, emphasizing their unnatural ability to ignore pain and fight until they’re torn apart, their ability to consume impossible amounts of flesh. Beyond the physical, I’d consider other things that make them feel unnatural. I’ve talked before about gnoll mimicry; with fiendish gnolls, I’d straight up have them speak with the voices of people the adventurers have lost in war (because they’re fiends of Rak Tulkhesh), or have a troop of gnolls all speak with one voice. I’d consider having a gnoll with a distinctive personality who engages with the adventurers, who keeps coming back in the body of different gnolls. Because to me, the point is that the individual GNOLL isn’t a fiend; it’s a mortal creature of flesh and blood. But that mortal creature has no will or identity of its own; it’s just a vessel for an immortal fiend.
So I can work with gnolls as fiends, and I’d place those gnolls as ravenous servants of the Wild Heart in the Eldeen Reaches and as soldiers of Rak Tulkhesh in the Demon Wastes. The catch is that I’dkeep the gnolls of the Znir Pact as humanoids. Considering the story from Exploring Eberron, it’s not simply that those first Znir gnolls had a change of heart, it’s that they expelled the fiends from their bodies. This doubles down on the importance of the Hwyri exorcists in Znir society; the Znir know more about fighting fiends than almost anyone, because they were made to be vessels for fiends and drove them from their blood. The Znir gnolls still have traces of fiendish influence; the fiends still yearn to control them. But they are mortal humanoids, with the same free will and self-determination as any mortal creation, capable of having any alignment. In some ways this is a parallel to the Inspired and their Chosen hosts; the Znir gnoll is the vessel without the fiend, the equivalent of a Chosen who’s found a way to prevent the quori from possessing them. Which would also be an interesting story for a Chosen adventurer, who was saved by a Hwyri mentor who taught them how to keep their quori at bay.
So, I have no issue with the new Monster Manual presenting gnolls as fiends, and I’d be happy to embrace that and go all in on the horrific aspects of it… for the servants of Rak Tulkhesh and the Wild Heart. But the whole point of the Znir gnolls is that they have broken the hold the overlords once had over them, and I would keep them as humanoids in my 2025 campaign.
If you have questions of your own, I’m holding a live Q&A for my Threshold patrons at 6 PM Pacific Time TOMORROW, Wednesday the 22nd. You can get access to this and post questions on Patreon. Thanks for your support!
‘Here.’ I pointed to the massive rainforest that lies between Blackwood Bay and the Madwood Gulf. ‘There’s no name listed for this jungle; the cartographer must have overlooked it. What’s it called?’ Jaelon said nothing. ‘It doesn’t have a name?’ I said. ‘I told you its name,’ he replied, but when I asked again, he said nothing. I won’t relay the entire ridiculous conversation that followed, but in time, the truth emerged: the name of the jungle is a moment of silence. And that’s just the start of it. Southwest of this Silence, there’s a fertile valley with two rivers flowing into the Blackwood Bay. Do a scry-by and you’ll see farmlands and villages. There’s a huge city on the coast of the river, a place called Shae Deseir. But no one’s lived there for over two thousand years. ‘Why?’ I asked Jaelon. It seems there was a war, a bitter feud that ended with a great house eradicated and their supporters exiled. But we’re talking about a span of time over twice the length of Galifar. Wars happen, and the survivors claim the spoils. Why is this region shunned? ‘No one lives there,’ he told me. ‘But the dead remain.’
The elves that followed Aeren were a rag-tag alliance drawn from a dozen different cultures. They were escaped slaves, survivors of independent city-states that had been crushed by the giants, nomads whose warbands were scattered, primal adepts trapped in the forms of beasts, and more. All were shaken by their devastating losses, both of Aeren and those left behind on Xen’drik. Following Aeren’s death, the refugees coalesced around a handful of charismatic leaders and philosophies. The Tairnadal swore to keep the memory of their champions alive by continuing to fight, laying claim to the northern plains. Tolaen led his people to the edge of a vast rainforest, vowing to preserve the image of the fallen in living wood. The Mendyrian siblings were wizards and mystics, and they believed that they could harness the light of Irian to extend life. Vol chose the lands others shunned—a region peppered with manifest zones tied to Mabar, a place where shadows might suddenly prey upon those who cast them. Mabar was long seen as the antithesis of life. But Vol could speak to the dead, drawing on the traces of her ancestors’ spirits. She’d learned secrets from the long-dead psychopomps of Shae Tirias Tolai and the fallen necromancers of the Qabalrin. And Vol believed that she could harness the power of Mabar and use it to overcome death—to give the next Aeren eternal life, even if it meant feeding on the blood of others. This was her pledge to the elves who laid the foundations of her city: We will not live in fear of death. We will learn its secrets, learn everything there is to know about the nature of life and its loss. We will redefine what it means to live, and in so doing we will never lose those that we love again. And so Shae Deseir rose on the bank of the river of Night.
The Rise of the Undead
Humans often imagine that Aerenal has always been as it is today—that the Undying Court has always guided its people, that the Line of Vol began exactly as it ended. But Shae Deseir began as a village of a few hundred elves with just a handful of necromancers among them. It took over ten thousand years for the Mendyrian and Jhaelian to unlock the secrets of the deathless, and ten thousand more for the Undying Court to attain the power it wields today. The Line of Vol grew over that same span of time, delving ever deeper into the mysteries of Mabar and Dolurrh and unlocking the secrets of necromancy. True to their vow, the Vol didn’t have the same fear of death as the other elves—or even the modern Seekers. Speak with dead was always a core aspect of Vol society. The skulls of the dead were preserved and consulted. The Vol understood that speak with dead only spoke with the traces of memory that remained, but they held to the principle that as long as we are remembered, we remain. So the Vol were comfortable with death. However, they still wished to overcome it—to preserve their greatest people as more than just memories. So while the Mendyrian and Jhaelian experimented with the deathless, the Vol studied the ways in which the power of Mabar could animate the dead.
The first sentient undead created by the Line of Vol was a form of wight; it consumed life force directly by touch. However, the insatiable hunger of Mabar overwhelmed the mortal memories of these undead, and they quickly became ravenous monsters that had to be destroyed. Vampires mitigate this by consuming blood rather than directly absorbing life energy, but the early vampires of Vol were still highly unstable; most devolved into feral creatures like the nosferatu of Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft. Over time the Vol were able to restore and refine what scholars call the Qabalrinvampire—the standard vampire, complete with its limitations on running water and not entering a house unless invited. That last one may seem a little strange; why is it that vampires innately can’t enter a stranger’s home? The answer can be found by looking at the most common form of sentient undead produced by both the Line of Vol and the modern Seekers of the Divinity Within: the oathbound, which the Monster Manual refers to as mummies. The oaths are vows that are mystically imposed upon the spirit, and it is these vows that keep the essence of the mortal from being dragged to Dolurrh and consumed. The more restrictive the oaths, the simpler the ritual and the more stable the personality of the creature. Forbiddance is an oath woven into the Qabalrin strain of vampirism; it is part of what makes the line more stable than the earlier nosferatu strains. So with that in mind, the line of Vol included the following forms of undead.
Oathbound were widespread throughout the region. They’re very stable; existence as a mummy is less of a strain on the spirit than vampirism or lichdom. The more restrictive the oaths binding the mummy, the easier it is to create and the more stable it will be. The majority of Vol oathbound were bound to specific locations, tied to a family estate or institution. Oathbound served as guardians and guides, often teaching the living. They often lacked the fire and creativity of the young, and so it was always seen as valuable to have the living and the dead work closely together.
Vampires have far more freedom than oathbound, but the state of vampirism takes a greater toll on the personality of a creature—and, of course, a vampire has to feed to maintain its existence. As a result, vampirism was granted to exceptional individuals who intended to spend their undeath in motion. Vol vampires were often diplomats and envoys, conducting business in the cities of the other lines. Some of the greatest innovators of the line chose vampirism simply to ensure flexibility in whatever the future could hold. But vampirism was a state that had to be earned, and would-be vampires underwent tests and trials to assure the lich-lords they had the strength of will to survive.
Vampire spawn are the first step to becoming a true vampire, as discussed in this article. So in imagining daily life in Shae Deseir, keep in mind that there were more vampire spawn than there were full vampires.
Liches were rare. As called out in Chronicles of Eberron, a lich typically has to perform the rites of transition themselves, and it requires both an exceptional understanding of necromancy, an iron will, and an absolute conviction not to die—a conviction that must remain firm throughout the lich’s existence. There were liches among the line of Vol, and they were revered by the living—but it was a state that could only be earned, never granted. The case of Erandis Vol was a remarkable exception, tied both to the incredible skills of Minara Vol and to Erandis’s dragonmark.
Skeletal humanoid labor wasn’t as common among the Vol as it is among the Seekers of the present day, as the Vol preferred to preserve the skulls of the dead in vast bone libraries where they could be consulted, much like the spirit idols of the Undying Court. However, beasts were regularly reanimated for tireless labor. The Vol also had a great affinity for shadows, tied to the Mabaran resonance all around them. Many Vol elves could employ their own shadows as a wizard does a familiar, sending them on tasks, seeing through their senses or speaking through them. Shadow puppetry was a common form of entertainment, and an arcanist could conduct an entire company of shadows through the performance of a play or an artistic display.
Life in the Line of Vol
The Line of Vol shared many basic traditions with the other Aereni lines. There was always tension between Vol, Mendyrian, and Jhaelian; there were feuds and vendettas that stretched out over the centuries. But the Melideth and Tolaen respected the Vol, honoring the shared struggles of their ancestors and engaging in commerce and conversation. Like the other lines, the Vol honored their ancestors and followed in their footsteps. And like most Aereni, elves of Vol would typically focus on a particular craft or field and spend centuries perfecting that skill. Generally speaking, innovation was less important than tradition—mastering the way a thing had been done was more important than finding a better way to do it. Necromancy was the crucial exception to this rule, and the Vol were always exploring new variations of existing rituals and spells.
Given its reliance on necromancy—often seen as a sinister form of magic—and the prevalence of skulls and bones in its art and architecture, scholars of the Five Nations have often assumed that the Vol were a cruel or malefic culture; in this, they are usually compared to the Qabalrin or the people of Ohr Kaluun in Sarlona. But the leaders of the Line of Vol weren’t ruthless or cruel. They had no desire to conquer their neighbors, and the dead used their experience to lift up the living. In studying necromancy, their focus wasn’t developing ways to kill the living but rather on finding ways to prolong existence and to communicate with the dead. The development of deadly spells was a side effect of their research, but war magic was never the purpose of it. Overall, the Line of Vol sought to celebrate life. It’s for this reason that they didn’t flood the province with vampires. The hunger of Mabar is difficult even for a person of strong will and tends to erode empathy; most elves who sought immortality in undeath were content to live a more limited but peaceful existence as one of the oathbound.
Some might wonder how this aligns with the grim culture of the Bloodsail Principalities, which has a direct path back to it. But the circumstances of the Bloodsails are very different from that of the Line of Vol. The Vol thrived for thousands of years in an atmosphere of relative peace and prosperity. By contrast, the Bloodsails began as exiles who had seen that peaceful culture utterly eradicated by its enemies. Farlnen is a harsh land with limited resources; sacrifices have to be made to sustain the living population. And from the beginning, the Lhazaar Sea was far more dangerous than Aerenal was for the Vol. The Bloodsails had to fight to survive—to fight both their barren land and their rivals on the sea. Because of this, the Bloodsails are more aggressive and ruthless. Their ancestors saw the peaceful Line of Vol exterminated by its rivals; they won’t allow that to happen again.
Religion and Divine Magic. The Line of Vol preferred the concrete truths of arcane science to abstract ideas of distant gods. They didn’t believe in any form of the Sovereigns and Six, and they didn’t invoke the power of the Silver Flame. However, they did have two traditions of magic beyond arcane science. Vol worked closely with Mabar, and there were points in their domain where the borders to the Eternal Night were very thin. Over the generations, some Vol engaged in commerce and conversation with the Dark Powers of Mabar—notably, the Bone King and the Empress of Shadows. Most Vol arcanists recognized the malevolence of these beings and didn’t idolize them; but they were willing to work with them in exchange for knowledge and arcane power, and this produced a tradition of warlocks. Over time, the Vol also developed a path through which adepts could channel and mold the power of Mabar through sheer will and mental discipline. Practitioners of this art were known as dusk weavers. Mechanically, exceptional dusk weavers could resemble Shadow Monks, Trickery Clerics or Oathbreaker Paladins. This tradition is still practiced among the Bloodsails. While it provides a form of divine magic, it is fueled by the practitioner’s absolute faith in their own ability to shape the power of Mabar. And while technically I’m suggesting that such characters could have the abilities of clerics or paladins, the magic they can wield should always reflect the power of Mabar; even though mechanically light is a spell on the cleric spell list, it’s not a spell a dusk weaver should possess… unless they manage to flavor it in a way that fits Mabar, such as a creating a ball that draws all shadow to it and leaves light in its absence.
Architecture and Artifice. Animated skeletons are bound together by an invisible, ectoplasmic force. The bone crafters of the Line of Vol discovered ways to adapt this arcane principle, creating structures that appear to be formed from swirling shadow with bones suspended. In Mabaran manifest zones—like Shae Deseir—bone crafters could pull raw bone-stuff from the layer of the Bone King, creating pillars and walls from ivory, though this substance was never part of a living creature. This is incorporated with darkwood and often built into and around living trees in the Silence. Vol communities can feel very gothic and sinister to outsiders, but the Vol don’t see anything malevolent in the use of bone; instead, it reminds them of their ancestors, and to enjoy life while it lasts.
Vol communities often contain the following structures.
Bone Libraries are ossuaries holding the skulls of deceased elves. People come to the library to consult the skulls using speak with dead, but there are also services that commemorate ancestors either en masse or highlighting the deeds of an individual or group.
Shadow Sanctums are where dusk weavers learn and practice their arts. They are somber and monastic in tone, typically filled with adepts engaged in meditation and pools of shadow drawn from Mabar. Dusk weavers are also often trained as healers, and the sanctums double as healing houses.
The Hall of Life is the center of the community, where people gather to support one another and to resolve civic issues; it also serves as a school for the young.
The Arcanum is the center of necromantic research and development. This is where undead are created, where shadows are bound, other important magical work is done.
Beyond this, a Vol community will have buildings common to any town—taverns and inns, a theatre, artisans, and homes.
General Demeanor. The leaders of the line of Vol had no interest in imposing their will through force. Throughout much of their history, the Vol were a prosperous culture with more space and resources than their relatively small population required. As such, their focus was on enjoying life—the dead teaching the living and helping them find a satisfying road to walk through life. The Vol liches were the most powerful members of the culture, but they didn’t band together as the Undying Court; a Vol lich typically used its power and knowledge to help its local community. Much as the Sibling Kings of Aerenal stand distinct from the Undying Court, the civic leaders of the Line of Vol were living people who worked to make sure every village had what was needed, to resolve disputes, and to engage in diplomacy with the other lines. But largely the role of leadership was to guide and assist, while always pursuing greater knowledge. Of course, it was this pursuit of knowledge that ultimately doomed them, when they sought to unlock the full potential of the Mark of Death.
The Silence. Shae Deseir is located in a verdant valley along the Night River, so named because a curious effect of the Mabaran manifest zone causes the reflection in the water to always show the sky above as if at night. There were a few villages spread out along the banks of the river. But the majority of the Line of Vol dwelt not in the valley—which, among other things, has issues with hostile shadows—but in the vast forest to the east of it. In the past it was known as Antalyn Orioth, the “Jungle of Peace”… though the term has connotations of “final peace” or “peace of the grave.” Since the eradication of the line of Vol, this name has been stricken from all maps and the Aereni do not use it. Instead, they refer to the jungle by casting their eyes down and remaining silent for a long moment.
The Silence contains a number of Mabaran manifest zones of varying size and intensity. Some of these are deadly to mortal life; these produce moss, fungi, and crystals that are useful components for necromantic magic. Others were once home to Vol villages. There are also two wild zones in the Silence. The Gray is tied to Dolurrh, and under the proper circumstances it can serve as a gateway to the Realm of the Dead. The Bones are tied to Mabar, and trees of bone rise from black soil; here the Bone King of Mabar watches the world. Aside from its planar influences, the Silence contains massive groves of darkwood; before they were destroyed, the Vol worked with Tolaen to harvest this resource.
Defenses and Damage. The Line of Vol wasn’t a warlike culture… until the end. Their civilization was wiped out in a brutal, decisive conflict against dragons and the Undying Court. It was a swift conflict fought by beings wielding immense power, and as a result many of the typical tools of war were irrelevant; there was no wall that would protect a village from a flight of dragons. Traveling through the Silence, adventurers can find vast clearings still scorched by dragonfire, with scattered shards of building bone or vague outlines of foundations. While active defenses are rare, undead are common in the region, and this is why the Aereni shun it to this day. Due to the presence of the manifest zones, all of the factors that contribute to haunts and restless dead are intensely magnified. There are a handful of haunts where shades of villagers relive their last hours, often entirely peacefully. But there’s also countless undead spawned by the intense trauma of the final days of Vol. There are angry ghosts and banshees that still retain some semblance of their former lives, but there are also more raw manifestations of pain and of Mabar’s hunger—swarms of shadows, angry specters, and at the extreme, powerful sorrowsworn born of anguish and pain. Within the Bones, a former Mendyrian commander remains as a death knight. Laen Mendyrian is tormented by the massacres he set in motion during the conflict, and now lingers as a vassal of the Bone King; he is accompanied by the Silver Wind, a silver dragon slain by the Emerald Claw who lingers as a ghost dragon.
Shae Deseir
Shae Deseir was the first and greatest city of the Line of Vol. Built from darkwood and shadow, it was a gothic metropolis. This is where the Vol made their last stand, focusing the might of their liches and the Emerald Claw. So great was their power that they were able to shield the city from aerial and arcane assault, which meant that dragons and elves stormed it directly. Because of this, the city has been devastated. There is a massive crater where the First Arcanum once stood, soil seared by a blend of flame, acid, and raw radiant power. The Hall of Life is cut in half, and the bones of defenders remain fused with the stone.
In assaulting Shae Desier, the forces of Argonnessen and Aerenal ensured that all living denizens of the city died, and that the phylacteries of the liches were destroyed. As soon as this mission was complete, they retreated, and the city has been left untouched ever since. Because of this, there are treasures hidden in the wreckage. The Great Bone Library is still intact, with thousands of skulls waiting to speak. But Shae Deseir is intensely haunted. The region was always known for its hostile shadows; rituals performed by the Vol kept the influence of Mabar in check. Now it is a place of bitter sorrow. The spirits that remain in Shae Deseir cannot leave this cursed city, but they will make any living creature that comes to it suffer.
What sort of treasures could you find in Shae Deseir? The First Arcanum was the site of some of the most remarkable necromantic work ever carried out. Any sort of magic item related to death and the dead could be found in the haunted city, along with scrolls of necromantic spells, such as horrid wilting and true resurrection. But the research could be even more valuable. How exactly did Minara Vol turn Erandis into a lich? How did they produce a half-dragon bearing an apex dragonmark, and what was the ultimate goal? These secrets are surely hidden in the ruins. Beyond that, scattered across the city are the remains of the warriors who fought that final bitter battle; there may be legendary arms and armor once wielded by champions of the Undying Court still lying on the battlefield. Another idea to consider: I’ve said before that the Eye and Hand of Vecna could be associated with Lhazaar in Eberron. However, if you wanted to remain closer to the original idea—to keep them as remnants of an ancient archlich—then they could be the Eye and Hand of Vol, the last pieces of the first and greatest lich produced by the line. Perhaps they went toe to toe with the Ascendant Councilors of the Undying Court and were torn apart. Now only a few pieces remain… but they want a vengeance greater and more terrible than anything Lady Illmarrow could devise.
What sort of monsters could you find there? Shadows roam freely in the region around Shae Deseir, and they can be found in many sizes and shapes. There are shadows cast by dragons long ago that are still crawling across the soil, and swarms of shadows that could be drawn by light or warmth. Beyond this, there are pockets of haunting scattered across the city, bitter moments captured in eternity. On the outskirts you might fight sword wraiths facing a banshee, an echo of Cairdal commandos fighting a Vol arcanist. Deeper in you could find dullahans fighting death dragons. Near the heart there are nightwalkers formed from the sheer rage of the fallen elves. And in the Bone Library or the First Arcanum there may well be a lingering demilich, nearly mindless after the loss of its phylactery, but somehow still sustained by its grief.
Why does this matter? Any campaign involving Lady Illmarrow could involve a trip to Shae Deseir. Illmarrow might need resources that can only be found in the Mabaran groves of the Silence. She could need research from the First Arcanum, or an artifact lost on the battlefield. Alternately, adventurers seeking to destroy Illmarrow could seek to find the details of her creation to learn how she can be permanently destroyed. Illmarrow aside, an Aereni adventurer could seek to enter Shae Deseir to recover a sacred artifact lost by an ancestor—or a necromancer of any culture could yearn to claim the secrets of the Vol arcanists.
What About The Mark of Death?
The alliance between the Undying Court and Argonnessen slew every living creature that carried the Mark of Death, and almost every elf tied to the Vol bloodlines. Erandis Vol still carries the mark, but it has been inactive since her death. There has been no confirmed manifestation of the mark since that time. The nature of the Mark of Death—how it could reappear and what powers it might possess—is a mystery we have always chosen to leave unanswered in canon sources. However, the things I write aren’t canon. I’ve created a version of the Mark of Death as bonus content for my Patreon supporters; you can find that here.
That’s all for now. If you’re going to PAX Unplugged, you can find me at the Twogether Studios booth. I hope to see you there!
Earlier this year I had the opportunity to DM a round at D&D in a Castle. I’m returning to Lumley Castle in 2025 for another round from March 30th to April 3rd, and there’s still a few seats left! You can find out all about the official details by following the link above, but I wanted to share a few things I especially loved about the experience.
This round of D&D in a Castle takes place in Lumley Castle in England, near Newcastle. Players play for three days—typically two sessions of four hours each day, which means there’s time to do other activities at Lumley Castle or to do some sightseeing in the region. But it also means that you’re playing 24 hours of D&D, which makes it an entirely different experience than just playing a four hour one-shot at a convention. Over the course of six sessions, there’s time for the story and the characters to evolve and for the players to get to know one another. The campaign I run will be a unique experience I create for the players, and the exact setting will depend on what they decide. In 2024 I ran a campaign set in Quickstone, tied to my Frontiers of Eberron book, and if people are interested that’s an option for 2025. However, I have a new project I’m going to be working on that players at the Castle could playtest, if that’s something that interests people…
In my sessions I prefer to move around the castle as opposed to settling in one place for the duration of it. In 2024 I ran my first day in the literal dungeon, as you can see above; the second day I was in a more colorful and well lit room, as seen in the image that starts off the image. The atmosphere certainly adds to the experience!
Meanwhile, here’s a glimpse of Lumley from the outside…
And the view of the countryside looking away from the castle. And last but not least, here’s Poppet, the Castle Cat, considering a miniature I was using in my final session.
As I type this,there’s still a few seats left for my session! You can also find more information on the website, and this is an interview I did with one of the organizers of the event. If you have any questions about the experience, feel free to ask them here. I hope I’ll see some of you in 2025!
When time permits, I like to answer questions from my Patrons… questions like this:
In Eberron, what do elves experience during their trance?
In my campaign, I like to highlight the fact that elves aren’t just humans with pointed ears. This isn’t about making elves exceptional; it’s about emphasizing that they are an alien species that differ from humanity in deep and fundamental ways. I want to explore what it means to have Fey Ancestry, and how that explains some of their other traits, including their long lifespan. With that in mind, let’s review the mechanical definition of Trance. All elves have the following trait:
Trance. You don’t need to sleep, and magic can’t put you to sleep. You can finish a Long Rest in 4 hours if you spend those hours in a trancelike meditation, during which you retain consciousness.
The Player’s Handbook further notes that elves “don’t sleep but instead enter a trance when they need to rest. In that state, they remain aware of their surroundings while immersing themselves in memories and meditations.”
There’s two things that stand out to me. First of all, an elf remains fully conscious and aware of their surroundings while they trance. They can’t take other activities during their trance, but they are aware of everything going on around them. Second, this provides them with all of the benefits of a long rest… including healing. This brings up something that’s important to me, which is that different species can apply different cosmetic filters to shared mechanics. Warforged heal fully by taking a long rest. But they don’t sleep while resting, and I’ve always described their process of healing as the warforged engaging in minor repairs. A human sleeps and allows their body’s natural healing processes to occur… while a warforged spends that same time hammering out dents in their armor plating and mending severed root tendrils. Both emerge from the long rest fully healed; but the cosmetic details of HOW they healed can be different. Keeping this in mind, I’ve also already said that I’d allow elves to change gender during a long rest.
So consider this. The fey of Thelanis are stories made manifest. Elves are flesh and blood, mortal creatures of Eberron. But they have Fey Ancestry; the essence of Thelanis is within them. In my campaign, what an elf does in trance is to reflect on their own storyand how it has changedsince yesterday. On a practical level they meditate on their memories and emotions and reflect on the events of the day. On a magical, instinctive level they are comparing their body to their subconscious self-image and changing it to match that image. The article above suggests that this is how an elf changes gender; their physical gender is a manifestation of their current sense of self. This same idea could manifest in other ways. Eye, hair, and skin color could all change based on an elf’s emotional state and a significant change to their story. A particular elf could have golden eyes and silver hair most of the time… but when they are deeply angry their hair could become fiery red; and when they suffer an intense loss and are mourning, their eyes and hair could become colorless. This concept extends to physical healing. An elf gets the full benefits of a long rest through four hours of meditation, because their body resets to its ideal state. With this in mind, I’d suggest that elves only get lasting scars as a reflection of trauma as opposed to physical injury. When an elf heals from a wound, it heals perfectly—unless the injury has deeper meaning in the mind of the elf. So an elf can bounce back from a serious wound in a battle that meant nothing to them with no sign of the injury… but a scratch in a duel with a hated rival could leave a dramatic scar that no magic can remove, at least until the elf gets over the incident.
A side effect of this is that it explains the long lifespan of an elf. As I’ve said before, I see elves maturing physically and mentally at about the same pace as humans. It’s that when an elf reaches what they instinctively consider to be their ideal state, they stop aging—or more accurately, they reset to that ideal age when they trance. This also allows for interesting variety in apparent age regardless of actual age. One elf could be only a century old but have deep lines and gray hair, while another could be six hundred years old but could have an appearance a human would see as that of a teenager; it’s about how the elf views themself. A key point here is that by default this is subconcious and instinctive. This is what differentiates an elf from a changeling. I suggested that a particular elf might have flaming red hair when they are deeply angry. But that change only happens when they trance and won’t change until they trance again… and further, they didn’t consciously choose the color and couldn’t have made it purple instead. Their emotional state has a physical manifestation. Furthermore, the whole point is that this varies from elf to elf—as in the young elf that appears to be old because they feel old versus the old elf who is young at heart and therefore young in form. If an elf has a stable sense of self, they won’t change dramatically from day to day; when they do, it’s likely to be small things like eye color. Tairnadal elves likely develop some physical traits that make them resemble their patron ancestor, but they wouldn’t just become a duplicate of the ancestor, because they are still unique individuals and their appearance reflects that. Likewise, an elf doesn’t consciously choose to heal and they don’t get to DECIDE if a wound leaves a scar; it’s a reflection of their subconscious and emotional state. Having said all of that, an elf adventurer could use class abilities to reflect this innately magical nature. I could see an elf Archfey warlock who presents their patron as their story of themself, a sort of twist on Blood of Vol beliefs; their Mask of Many Faces reflects their absolute control of their sense of self. And to be absolutely clear about this, this isn’t intended to give elf characters any sort of mechanical advantage; it is a purely cosmetic concept. In suggesting that this is how elves heal, it is still limited to the benefits of a long rest. If an elf loses a limb, they don’t get to grow it back by taking a long rest; like it or not, their story has changed. Likewise, they can’t shake off diseases; they simply get the benefits of a long rest in a different way than a human does. The whole idea is to emphasize that they’re not human—that they are creatures of a fundamentally magical world, still tied to fey. If an elf starts to feel old for some reason, they will start to look old. Their appearance is based on their story and how they see themselves.
Which brings us all the way back to the original question… What do elves experience during their trance? Again, an elf remains conscious and aware of their surroundings during their trance. It’s not a dream. In my vision it’s about reflecting and remembering—reflecting on the events of the day, remembering key moments of the past, and comparing the two. An elf fighter remembers both their martial training and their greatest moments in battle and compares them to recent conflicts. An elf wizard remembers learning to cast fireball and reflects on the sensation of channeling evocation magic. Religious elves reflect on lessons, proverbs, and moments that established and defined their faith; Tairnadal reflect on the deeds of their patron ancestors. But trancing elves also remember moments from childhood, conversation with loved ones, their greatest accomplishments and tragedies… they tell their story to themselves.
Again, I’ll emphasize that most healthy adult elves have a pretty strong sense of self and this is reflected by a fairly stable appearance from day to day; shifts in appearance are often reliable, IE “When Raevan is feeling sad, her hair is jet black.” But it could be that elves can suffer from a dramatic form of bed head—that an elf who’s troubled might have difficulty trancing and that this would manifest in a disheveled appearance! But generally speaking, the changes that would occur in this way wouldn’t be so dramatic that a friend of the elf wouldn’t recognize them. The core of an elf’s self-image won’t usually change overnight; it’s little details that will change.
Elves don’t HAVE to sleep and dream… but CAN they?
This is open to interpretation. The 2024 PHB says “they don’t sleep but instead enter a trance when they need to rest”; to me, this implies that it’s not a choice, it’s a biological fact about elves. This is reinforced by the fact that magic cannot put an elf to sleep, which again implies that sleep is just not a concept that applies to them. The counter argument is that the Trance trait states “You don’t NEED to sleep” which could imply “… But you can.” In my campaign, I say that elves can’t sleep, and even when unconscious they don’t dream. This is a plot point in my novel The Gates of Night, in which a drow adventurer can’t go to Dal Quor with her companions because she doesn’t dream. As a DM there’s lots of ways to overcome this for purposes of an adventure—rituals, relics, potions—notably, in that same novel, the warforged uses an artifact to join their companions in the dream. But by default, in my campaign elves cannot dream. In my opinion this further supports the overall stagnation of Aereni society—the fact that the people of the Five Nations have made tremendous advances over the last few centuries while Aerenal hasn’t changed much over the last few thousand years. Trance is a way for elves to reflect, but it’s unlikely to produce entirely unexpected moments of inspiration as dreams can. And also, trancing elves don’t get ideas dropped in their heads by night hags or quori…
How is this different for eladrin, with their connection to the seasons?
Eladrin seasonal transformation is a key part of this idea. What we suggested in Fourth Edition was that the ancestors of the elves were eladrin refugees from the destruction of Shae Tirias Tolai, and that between the forces the giants unleashed in that attack and generations in the mundane world, the descendants of the survivors adapted to the material plane, becoming elves. The eladrin have a seasonal affinity that provides them with a magical gift—and eladrin of different seasons are typically depicted with dramatically different appearances that reflect their season. Eladrin trance instead of sleeping, and can change their season after completing a long rest. So this is the point: the ancestors of the elves could and would undergo dramatic physical transformations while trancing. What I’m suggesting here is that the elves of Eberron still maintain an aspect of this. Unlike the eladrin there’s no mechanical impact, and the physical changes are usually more subtle; but it speaks to idea of fey ancestry, that elves are still fundamentally magical beings shaped by story.
With that in mind, how is the eladrin trance different from the elf trance? The key to me is that the eladrin are more fey, less tied to the material world, and that one aspect of this is, frankly, that their stories are less complex and thus more fluid. The point of Thelanis is that its stories are often iconic… and I’ve also called out that the fey of Thelanis are often largely untouched by the passage of time, being swept away by their stories and their passions. An eladrin shifting from Summer to Winter is experiencing BIG FEELINGS and a dramatic change from wild joy to cold gloom. While trancing, an eladrin thinks less about specific moments and more about grand feelings. Essentially, I’d play eladrin as being far more mercurial and dramatic than most mortals, and that’s reflected in that shifting. By contrast, elves have become more mortal. The story of an individual elf—let’s say a Phiarlan actress who’s moonlighting as a spy for the Serpentine Table, but who’s torn between her love for a Brelish soldier devoted to his nation and her job to unearth Brelish secrets—isn’t as simple as SUMMER and WINTER. And thus the shifts in appearance are themselves far more subtle. The question is both whether it’s possible for an elf to become an eladrin with the proper experiences, or whether conversely an eladrin could become an elf—or whether (as was the case historically) it’s a slow process that requires generations and can’t be easily undone.
Would you say the same can be applied to Drow? Seeing as they are descended from eladrin too, do they trance in the same way like elves do?
So let’s take a moment to consider the drow. By the current rules they are an Elven Lineage option. Aside from the benefits of this Elven Lineage, they are mechanically identical to other elves. So yes, they have Fey Ancestry and they Trance, and I’d say that this trance serves the same general function: reflecting and reinforcing their identity, as well as restoring their health and energy. But what exactly makes a drow different from an elf? I said that hair, skin, and eye color could all change due to trance—could a wood elf become a drow in Trance, or vice versa? In my campaign, they couldn’t—because the difference between drow and elf is more than skin deep. From the beginning we said that the Sulat giants created the drow by “infusing elves with the essence of night.” But what does that actually MEAN? I’ve always seen them as forging a connection to Mabar and using that to change the fundamental fey nature of the drow—essentially, changing their story. But there’s two distinct impacts of this connection to Mabar. The first is obvious: Darkness. Mabar consumes light, and drow have superior darkvision and the ability to summon darkness. But the second aspect is because they wanted the drow to be ruthless assassins. I’ve said before that the hunger of Mabar erodes empathy in the undead. The drow don’t need blood like a vampire does, but they have an innate, subconscious instinct to extinguish light and life. Again, this is SUBCONSCIOUS and it’s absolutely something a drow adventurer can suppress. But it’s a supernaturally imposed instinct that fundamentally differentiates a drow from an Aereni elf. The both have Fey Ancestry, but their stories are inherently different. So in my campaign, drow trance, and in that trance they restore their energy and health, and their appearance can shift to match their self-image, just like other elves. But there is an innate bleakness that pervades the reflections of the drow, regardless of what they may consciously choose to meditate upon. Because of this, some drow struggle with depression; most don’t let it slow them down, but it tends to add a grim edge to the average drow. Although, again: this is something any particular drow can overcome. You can have happy, altruistic, optimistic drow; good diet and a regular exercise routine helps! The Umbragen, on the other hand, take this to the next level. Once an Umbragen forms their connection to the Umbra, it is a powerful force within their subconscious that actively erodes empathy and that whispers to them in trance. For the standard drow it’s a subtle thing; for the Umbragen the experience is more like that of a vampire, a shadow that eats away at the light in their spirit.
And on that happy note, that’s all for now! My next article will be on Shae Deseir and the Line of Vol. I’m also going to be running two sessions of a 4E Eberron adventure for my patrons this weekend, and any Threshold patron can apply to play in a session—if that sounds like fun, check out my Patreon!
Nunu the bartender loves a spooky story! Art by Matthew Johnson
Every month I answer questions posed by my Patreon supporters. Here’s a few of the interesting questions that have come up this month. In addition, if you’re a Threshold patron you can apply to play in Eberron games I run online. The next game is this Sunday from 10 AM – 2 PM Pacific Time, and I’ll be taking player applications for the next 48 hours. If you’re interested in playing, you can find out more here—but you have to be a Threshold patron to apply. Anyhow, let’s get on with the questions!
The Fort Bones Eye on Eberron article mentions rites that mitigate the power of Mabar in the area, and allow agriculture in the region. The article further notes that when Kaina ir’Duna interfered with the latter rites near the beginning of the Last War, it was disastrous for agriculture and contributed to Karrnath’s famines. I am thinking of setting a campaign at Fort Bones, and my question is what those rites might look like and, loosely speaking, what they might consist of in game terms?
Mabar is the source of negative energy; it consumes life and causes despair. Mabaran manifest zones radiate negative energy, which will cause crops to fail and animals to wither. Seekers contain this energy by using it to perform necromantic magic. Here’s a few rituals that are used for this purpose.
The first and most frequent is Tolling The Dead. The priest gathers the faithful and together they sing prayers and tell stories of the fallen ancestors of the people in the community and other Seeker heroes. With each individual, they generate a pulse of negative energy that blasts into the sky, accompanied by the sound of a great bell. This is essentially the cantrip Toll The Dead, amplified by the group participation and ritual casting. It’s not designed to serve as a weapon; the pulse blasts directly up. The purpose is simply to catch the negative energy and channel it up and away. While meanwhile, as a religious ceremony, it is about remembering those that have been lost.
Every other week, there is a communion service that involves a long and extensive performance of Speak With Dead. The dead are often turned into zombies or skeletons, but Seekers respected for their wisdom may be kept aside from this; their skulls are preserved and polished, and brought out for this service. Anyone in the community can request a chance to ask a question of one of these wise skulls. This begins with a Tolling service that celebrates each of the mentors, remembering their deeds in life before giving people the chance to speak with their remains. Keep in mind that Speak With Dead only draws on traces of memory that cling to the remains; the spirits of the Seekers are gone!
The third option is the creation and maintenance of the undead, typically zombies and skeletons. When a member of the community dies and is chosen for service in undeath, the community will gather and celebrate the victim’s life, after which the priest will animate their remains. Since this only happens when someone dies, it’s not a regular thing. However, there is also a weekly ritual in which the undead servants in a community are brought together. The priest tells the story of each one, reminding people who they were in life and thanking them for their service in death. This ritual channels negative energy to sustain the undead and repair any damage they have suffered.
This isn’t a conclusive list, but it’s a few options to work with!
Art by Ron Spears from the Fourth Edition Monster Manual
What’s the role of Flameskulls in Eberron?
In MY campaign, flameskulls are created using a form of the Odakyr rites—the same rituals used to create the Karrnathi undead. This has a few important aspects.
A flameskull can only be created from the remains of a spellcaster capable of casting the spells on the flameskull’s spell list. You have to lose a capable spellcaster before you can create a flameskull.
Creating a flameskull requires a very capable necromancer anchoring a ritual performed by multiple adepts. I’d make the eye gems of a flameskull Khyber dragonshards enchanted in a particular way. So Malevanor could make a flameskull, but it’s not something your typical Seeker village priest could do.
A flameskull is intelligent, but it’s not HUMAN. As called out in canon lore, “A flameskull only dimly recalls its former life.” I’d tie this to what I’ve already said about the Karrnathi undead: that IN THEORY they are guided by the patriotic spirit of Karrnath, but in practice, it’s possible that they are guided by Mabaran fiends, by Lady Illmarrow, or something else. These Odakyr flameskulls were used as mobile artillery by Karrnath during the Last War, but because of the restrictions—you need a dead wizard to make one—they were relatively uncommon.
That’s the STANDARD story for the most widespread form of flameskull. But you could also have unique flameskulls created in other ways — a malevolent flameskull that DOES remember its previous life and which was reanimated by either Sul Khatesh or Katashka the Gatekeeper. An ancient Dhakaani flameskull, all that remains of a great Dirge Singer; instead of FLAME, her spells are based on sound and deal thunder damage instead of fire damage. A flameskull that was once a priest of the Shadow, whose spells deal necrotic damage. (To be clear, my point here is that you don’t have to actually change the flameskull’s spell list, though you could. The point of the shadowskull is that it would be wreathed in dark mist, and it would attack with a shadow ray that deals 3d6 necrotic damage and cast shadow sphere or shadowball — which work exactly like flaming sphere or fireball, but deal necrotic damage.) A fun twist on the shadowskull would be to reverse the Illumination trait; it can either change bright light to dim light within 15 feet, or extend darkness to 15 feet and dim light to 15 feet beyond that.
Some years ago, you offered a take on Erandis Vol and the Raven Queen in Eberron; that Erandis IS the Raven Queen, and that she is trying to/needs to ascend to take her rightful place as Queen of the Dead. Can you expand on that a little? What does the Erandis need for the ritual of ascension? Does current Erandis even *know* that’s what she’s trying to do, or is she simply trying to unlock her dragonmark? How would you handle Illmarrow as a campaign villain with this sort of thing as a finale? Presumably Erandis’ ascension is a good(ish) thing, but the PCs will likely be diametrically opposed to her; stopping her ascension would be a victory for the PCs, but leave Dolurrh without a Queen, which seems like a problem.
The Once and Future Queen of the Dead. The Queen of the Dead is an enigmatic figure who wields great power in Dolurrh. But there’s another being who uses this title: Erandis Vol, the last heir of the Mark of Death. Through her agents in the Order of the Emerald Claw and beyond, Erandis seeks to restore the power of her dragonmark; no one knows what godlike powers she might wield if she unlocks its full potential. Meanwhile, Dolurrh’s Queen of the Dead seems to oppose Erandis, and often sends her agents—both shadar-kai and adventurers she’s restored to life at a price—to interfere with Vol’s schemes. This could be exactly what it appears… But perhaps there’s more to it. Time works in strange ways when dealing with the planes and beings of vast power. Perhaps the Queen of the Dead isn’t trying to stop Erandis, but guiding her down a very specific path. Perhaps Erandis will become the Queen of the Dead, in which case, she’ll have always been her. Or perhaps that’s what’s supposed to happen, but there’s a way in which it could still go wrong… which could destroy the Queen of the Dead and throw Dolurrh itself into chaos.
So first of all, the central idea here is that Erandis doesn’t know what she’s trying todo. She’s not TRYING to become the queen of Dolurrh; she “seeks to restore the power of her dragonmark; no one knows what godlike powers she might wield if she unlocks its full potential.” Erandis wants POWER. She wants to achieve the destiny that was stolen from her. And in the pursuit of that power, she will do terrible things and kill countless innocents. So there’s not supposed to be any question that Erandis’s ascension is a bad bad thing. As I’ve said before, Erandis and the Emerald Claw are intended to be pulp villains; you aren’t supposed to question whether opposing them is the right thing to do. And the Queen of the Dead can serve as a patron, guiding the adventurers—potentially, setting their service in stopping Erandis as the price of resurrection (though I’ve got more thoughts on this below!). Erandis is performing unnatural acts of necromancy and the Queen wants the adventurers to stop it.
But how does this work as a campaign? How can the adventurers go through a series of sessions where they oppose Erandis’s plans? If they succeed and interfere, she won’t ascend, right? And if they fail, assuming they don’t die, won’t it just be frustrating to fail again and again? This is a basic question that can apply to ANY campaign in which the DM has a villain that’s supposed to be building to a big climax — how do the adventurers feel like they are accomplishing something meaningful without derailing the big final act of the story? The answer is that just as you want space in a game for the players to fail forward, you want room for the villains to do so as well. Don’t create stories in which the only options are absolute success or absolute failure; you want to have missions in which the adventurers can accomplish a heroic task while Erandis still gets what she needs to move forward. Consider these examples…
The Emerald Claw sets up an Emerald Reanimator in the heart of Sharn, triggering a zombie apocalypse. The adventurers, we hope, destroy the reanimator and save the city. But after this victory, the Queen of the Dead whispers to them that this is only one link in a chain. Erandis’s goal was to charge a special Khyber shard with necrotic energy, and the animator was active for long enough to accomplish this task. Her minions have escaped with the charged shard, and she will surely return again.
The Emerald Claw launches an attack in Arcanix. The adventurers fight their way down through the great library, leading to a final conflict with a bodak who’s—reading a book. When the adventurers break into the vault, the bodak looks up at them and laughs with Erandis’s vault. “You’re too late,” she says. “I needed to read one page within the Qabalrin Codex… and now I have.”
The point of these stories is that the adventurers SAVE SHARN AND ARCANIX. They save countless innocents and are heralded as heroes. But there was never a version of the scenario in which they could get to the bodak before they read the book. And yet, the adventurers didn’t even know the book was her goal until the final scene. It’s a solid victory for them; but Erandis also got what she needed. And all of this builds until the end, where Erandis is about to trigger her ascension. The adventurers ready for the final battle and suddenly time stops and the Queen of the Dead speaks in their minds. Do not interfere. You must allow her to do this. She does not know the path she is stepping on, but it is a path she must take. And for the stability of the world you know, you must allow her to do it. And now we know: The Queen of the Dead wanted the adventurers to save as many innocents as possible, but she didn’t mention the Qabalrin Codex because she needed Erandis to get the book. From the start, she’s told the adventurers enough to help them minimize the damage of Erandis’s actions—but her goal was never to stop her. What will they do?
This is a sort of railroad; you aren’t giving the players the option to stop Erandis in advance. But the point is that every victory along the way had to be earned. If they failed in Sharn the city would become a zombie-filled necropolis. If they failed in Arcanix, the Emerald Claw would have claimed countless war rituals. But Erandis was always going to move forward. It’s NOW, in the final act, that they have to make the true choice. Do they trust the Queen of the Dead and allow Erandis to complete the ritual—at which point she discovers her ascension is not what she thought? Or do they fight it? In this instance, I’d set things entirely in their hands (and the dice). They can defeat Erandis and stop the ritual… and which point the Queen of the Dead will howl and vanish, and suddenly the world will be plagued by countless restless ghosts, the product of chaos in Dolurrh. In which case the final act becomes the adventurers undoing the damage they’ve caused. Can they restore Erandis as the Queen of the Dead? Or do they need to find a NEW ruler of Dolurrh — perhaps, even having one of them somehow take up the mantle themselves?
Art by Andrew Jones from the 3.5 Eberron Campaign Setting
The most famous artwork which represents elves of the Undying Court has an ape on it. What is the role or symbolism of apes for Aerenal and Court?
It’s not that the Court as a whole has an affinity for apes; it’s that THAT BABOON is an actual member of the Undying Court. That’s Caerzha the Old, one of the Gyrderi Druids trapped in wild shape by the Cul’sir; sustained by primal magic, he lived long enough to be raised to the Court after his passing.
That’s all for now! Thanks again to my patrons for asking interesting questions and making these articles possible.