Frontiers Preview: Chapter Six and Breggan Blackcrown!

Frontiers of Eberron is coming out on September 17th! You can preorder it now and get a free Roll20 Conversion of the adventure “Heart of Stone.” For now, here’s a sneak peek at the opening of Chapter Six, so you can see the new creatures that are included in the book! The first two pages were posted on social media, but here’s the next two pages as well, introducing the bandit queen Breggan. Her stat block is on the next page, but you’ll have to get the book for that! meanwhile, my patrons already have previews of the College of Wands Bard and the Merchant of Misthaven. If you want to get access to those—and to support my writing on this site—join my Patreon!

Monsters of Eberron: The Bodak

The bodak. Art from Mordenkainen Presents: Monsters of the Multiverse.

The plane of Mabar embodies the end of all things. It hungers to consume all light and life. It is one of the most common origins for the restless dead, as the corpse becomes a conduit for the hunger of Mabar, a vessel through which it can consume life energy. This can be seen in the bloodlust of the vampire or the life-draining touch of the wight, but it is especially obvious in the vile bodak. This creature has a hollow void where its soul once was—a direct channel to the Eternal Night. When it opens this maw, a bodak emanates an aura of annihilation, sucking the life force of all things around it down into Mabar. Worse still, the eyes of a bodak are pits of shadow that rip at the soul of anyone who meets its gaze, tearing out the essence of the victim and pulling it down into the relentless void within the bodak.

Bodaks rarely rise on their own. A bodak can only be formed from the corpse of someone who has studied the necromantic arts or devoted themselves to a malefic spirit—someone whose soul has already been scarred by their choices. Their master consumes the soul of the servant and uses it to create a bridge to Mabar. But the master maintains a tie to the bodak that remains until its final death. A bodak’s master knows everything the foul creature sees or hears… and if they so choose, the master can assume direct control of a bodak and speak with its voice. The great explorer Bendolos Bin Dolas once faced a bodak that spoke with the voice of the Keeper itself, demanding a toll in souls for safe passage. It is possible a once-mortal creature such as a lich or vampire of great power could create a bodak of its own—a servant who could serve as their eyes and ears within the world, preserving their master from any exposure or risk.

Dorius Alyre ir’korran, the Manual Maleficent

In the past, I’ve talked about the role of Sphinxes, Perytons, Cyclopes, Lamias, and Hags in Eberron. Going forward, I’m going to make this a make this a regular series of articles—considering the roles of interesting creatures in the setting. The bodak was requested by one of my patrons in August; I’ll be posting polls on Patreon to determine the subjects of future articles. In the meantime…

WHAT’S A BODAK?

Like many creatures in Dungeons & Dragons, the bodak has its roots in real-world mythology but has ventured far from those roots. The gaelic bodach is alternately a trickster spirit or a harbinger of doom and death. D&D made the bodak an evil being distinguished by a deadly gaze. Different editions give it different origins, but I’m drawing on the Fifth Edition lore and mechanics—saying that a bodak was once a mortal servant of a malevolent entity and now acts as an extension of its master. Keeping that in mind, let’s look at the distinguishing mechanical features of the Fifth Edition bodak, as presented in Monsters of the Multiverse.

Corporeal Undead. The 5E bodak is a medium undead creature. It is immune to necrotic and poison damage; resistant to cold, fire, and non-magical bludgeoning, slashing, and piercing damage. It can’t be charmed, frightened, or poisoned, and it doesn’t eat, drink, or sleep. In my campaign, all of this reflects the fact that it is an animated corpse. It’s not that it is actually resistant to physical damage—that a sword can’t penetrate its flesh—it’s that wounds that would hurt a living creature are irrelevant to the bodak. You can drive a spear into its heart and it doesn’t care, because it’s not using its heart any more. Reducing a bodak to zero hit points means that you are destroying it—crushing bones or severing body parts until there’s not enough left of it to pose a threat. This is something I like to call out when fighting corporeal undead because it’s so different from fighting living creatures. Hit points can reflect skill or luck, an enemy parrying your attack or slipping out of your reach. But when hit the bodak for 20 slashing damage, I’ll say that your blade sinks deep into its arm, severing its bicep—a crippling blow—but that it just swats the blade aside and reaches out for you. I want to emphasize that this is a walking corpse. Its resistance to fire damage isn’t because it can’t be burnt; it’s because it doesn’t feel the flames.

Sunlight Sensitivity. A bodak suffers 5 points of radiant damage when it starts its turn in sunlight, and has disadvantage on attack rolls and ability checks while in sunlight. I’d highlight that the bodak is a corpse animated by shadow—and that sunlight eats away at that animating force. It’s not that the bodak physically burns; it’s that it hisses and writhes in agony, that the shadows in its eye and mouth boil away… and that if it’s somehow kept in sunlight until it is destroyed, it just collapses, becoming a entirely mundane corpse. The radiant damage isn’t to the body, it’s to the animating spirit.

A Consuming Void. When a bodak attacks physically, it uses its fist—inflicting 1d4 bludgeoning damage plus 2d8 necrotic damage. To me, it’s noteworthy that the bodak doesn’t attack with claws or teeth; it strikes with a fist for a fairly minor amount of physical damage. But it inflicts a significant amount of necrotic damage. It also has the option to activate an Aura of Annihilation, which inflicts 5 necrotic damage to any creature that ends its turn within 30 feet of the bodak, aside from undead or fiends. So, it inflicts necrotic damage with its touch and with its very presence. But what does this LOOK like? What’s the experience of it? Like Dorius ir’Korran, I like the idea that the bodak is a conduit for the hunger of Mabar. There is a gate within the bodak, and when it opens it, all life energy within 30 feet is sucked into the bodak and down into Mabar. It’s a walking black hole. The Aura is a fairly slow, minor effect; the touch is more powerful. But they point is that when a bodak “attacks with its fist” I wouldn’t describe it as taking a swing—I’d say that it lays its palm on its enemy and they feel their life force being ripped out of them and drawn into the bodak’s hand. A secondary aspect of this is that the Aura of Annihilation is described as affecting “creatures”—but I’d extend that to vegetation. When a bodak activates its aura, it drains all the life from the area around it. Plants will wither. I might even have colors drained of their intensity… so when you come to a place where a bodak has unleashed its power, everything will be dead and gray.

The Deadly Gaze. The Fifth Edition bodak has two gaze-related attacks. Death Gaze is an innate ability that activates when a creature that can see the bodak’s eyes starts a turn within 30 feet of the bodak. The victim must make a constitution saving throw or take 3d10 psychic damage; if it fails the saving throw by 5 or more points, it’s reduced to zero hit points. This ability has no effect on creatures that can’t be frightened. Meanwhile, it also has Withering Gaze, an active attack that inflicts necrotic damage on a target. Withering Gaze cannot be avoided (although a successful Con save cuts the damage in half); it has a 60 foot range; and the victim doesn’t have to be able to see the bodak’s eyes.

In my mind, these are two entirely different effects. Withering Gaze is an extension of the “Consuming Void” idea I mentioned earlier. A bodak is a conduit to Mabar. When it glares at a target, it sucks the life out of them (necrotic damage). Someone with great constitution can resist this, but never completely; when a bodak looks at you, you can feel your life being ripped out of you and sucked down into its eyes. By contrast, Death Gaze isn’t an attack on the part of the bodak itself—it’s something that just happens when a living creature looks into the fully opened eyes of the bodak. It inflicts psychic damage rather than necrotic and can’t affect creatures immune to fear. I’d tie this to the idea that Mabar consumes hope. When you look into the eyes of a bodak you’re staring into the Void of Mabar, and it rips away the will to live. While creatures immune to fear are immune to the effort, it’s less about terror and more about absolute, crushing despair. But essentially, it’s a side effect. The bodak chooses to target you with its withering gaze; the death gaze is what happens when you look into its eyes. However, having said that…

What does a bodak LOOK like? Neither the Fourth Edition Monster Manual or the Fifth Edition Monsters of the Multiverse describe the appearance of the bodak in text. Mechanically, we know the bodak doesn’t have claws or a bite attack. The picture above is from Monsters of the Multiverse, and suggests withered flesh and a oversized, distended mouth. In my campaign, I say that the appearance of a bodak varies based on the power that created it. What defines a bodak is that it a corpse animated by shadow, filled by the essence of Mabar. But that can manifest in different ways.

  • Bodaks tied to the Bone King are withered, with desiccated flesh stretched tight over bone. Veins of shadow shift and writhe beneath their skin; occasionally the flesh cracks and shadow leaks out like wisps of smoke. The mouth of such a bodak is filled with shadows, but it is not distended like some of the others.
  • The bodaks of the Empress of Shadows look like the image above. The energy within the corpse twists and reshapes it, creating a hunched and twisted figure. The mouth stretches dramatically and is filled with shadows, and this comes to another twist. When using bodaks tied to the Empress, I’d say that it’s their MOUTH that’s the threat, not their eyes. When the bodak uses “Withering Gaze” it’s opening its mouth wide and sucking in the life force of a victim; and it’s looking into the gaping maw of the bodak that triggers the “Death Gaze” effect.
  • Bodaks created by Mazyralyx see their bones slowly shift as they develop draconic traits. They can be mistaken for dragonborn, but notably they don’t have scales on their withered flesh; it’s just the bones that twist. They grow claws and inflict slashing damage with their physical attack. The Death Gaze of these bodaks is caused by looking into their eyes, but the “Withering Gaze” manifests as a sort of breath attack; the bodak spews a bolt of shadow at its target. Powerful bodaks of Mazyralyx can extrude or retract wings of shadow as a bonus action, gaining a fly speed equal to their walking speed.
  • When Lady Illmarrow creates a bodak, it retains its appearance from its mortal life. All color is leached from its skin. Its veins are filled with shadows instead of blood, but initially this effect is subtle. The eyes of the bodak are flat and expresionless, but they are initially eyes of flesh and blood. All of this changes the first time the bodak activates its Aura of Annihilation or uses one of its other traits. When it opens up the conduit to Mabar, its eyes are consumed and transformed into wide pits of shadow. The dark veins beneath its skin expand and can be seen pulsing beneath the pale flesh. Shadows drift from its mouth like mist. When its Aura is inactive, the shadows beneath its skin subside a bit and mist stops drifting from its mouth, but its eyes remain deep sockets of despair.

A final point to this is that the bodak is a humanoid that has been transformed. It’s presented as a medium creature, implying that it was a medium creature in life. But a bodak could potentially be created from a halfling or from an ogre. A halfling bodak might use the standard stat block while just being a small creature. If I was using a bodak made from an ogre or a true giant in my campaign, I’d likely create a new stat block for it, reflecting greater mass and physical power.

MALEFIC SERVANTS

Bodaks are extensions of Orcus’s will outside the Abyss, serving the demon prince’s aims and other minions. Orcus can recall anything a bodak sees or hears. If he so chooses, he can speak through a bodak to address his enemies and followers directly.

Mordenkainen Presents: Monsters of the Multiverse

In life, a bodak must be a devotee of a malevolent power. The devotee performs a ritual that binds their spirit to their master; this requires an arcane mark to be inscribed over their heart. Any time thereafter, the master can use that bond to consume the soul of the servant—filling the void so created with a conduit to Mabar. The bodak maintains vague memories of the devotee, but it has been hollowed out and has no will or desires other than to serve its master; likewise, it loses the vast majority of the skills it possessed in life. When Lady Illmarrow trains her apprentices in necromancy, she demands that they undergo the bodak ritual. The apprentices thus marked hope to develop such great skill that Illmarrow will consider them too valuable to consume, as a bodak lacks spellcasting ability.

A bodak is linked to its master by the thread of its lost soul. The master can actively monitor a bodak, directing its actions and speaking through its mouth. While the master controls the bodak at such times, it isn’t directly inhabiting the bodak’s body; notably, when Lady Illmarrow controls a bodak she can’t grant it her spellcasting abilities. Most of the time, a bodak is following the direction of its master but it isn’t being actively monitored, let alone controlled. But an important element is the fact that the bodak’s master can recall anything the bodak has seen or heard. So while the master might not be directly controlling a bodak when a group of adventurers destroys it, the master can reel in the thread of its soul and study it, recalling all that it saw and heard up to the moment of its death.

From a metagame perspective, this is a fantastic way to introduce a recurring villain. If your party of adventurers are 4th level, they aren’t ready to encounter the lich Lady Illmarrow… and besides which, Lady Illmarrow wouldn’t personally leave Farlnen to take part in a minor operation in Ardev. But she might send one of her bodaks to assume command of an Emerald Claw cell. And when the paladin strikes the final blow, the bodak speaks a final phrase in a different voice—Too late, little light. I have what I needed. The adventurers have defeated the Claw and saved innocents, but Illmarrow was looking for a piece of information, and she got it. The next time they fight a powerful Claw sell, there’s another bodak… and in the final battle, it too speaks with Illmarrow’s voice. Now she’s curious about them. Who are you, little light? Why do you fight me? I’ll learn eventually. Continue to oppose me and I won’t just kill you. I’ll take everyone you love and bind their bones to my service. The next time adventurers encounter the Emerald Claw, they may realize that they need to kill the bodak as quickly as possible, before it even sees them—because they have to blind Illmarrow so she doesn’t know what’s happened. These bodaks themselves can become more powerful, either with general boosts or because they have magic items (that adventurers can take from them… but are these powerful weapons cursed when attuned by the living?). The point is that in fighting her bodaks, the adventurers get to interact with Illmarrow long before they are ready to face her directly… and they get a sense of her personality and plans. They could even have a lengthy parley with her, as she attempts to lure them to her cause. While the loss of a bodak is an annoyance, Illmarrow herself isn’t in danger; so she can be a little casual in her dealings. I am older than your civilization, child. I am eternal. Kill this vessel and I’ll raise another. And eventually you will serve me, whether by choice or when your bones dance for me.

With this in mind, there are a few beings that can create bodaks. The Bone King and the Empress of Shadows are Dark Powers of Mabar, and they sometimes use bodaks as agents and eyes in the material plane. However, they rarely have NEED of such agents or eyes. Often what happens is that one of them will create a bodak for a particular purpose—perhaps the Bone King wishes to speak directly to a warlock or vampire tied to him. Once that conversation is over, the master has no use for the bodak—but it lingers in the material plane. It’s possible the creator would order the bodak to serve their mortal ally; or they might just abandon the bodak and leave it to wander the world, killing again and again as it seeks to fill the bottomless void in its heart.

There are two powers native to the material plane known to use bodaks; these are described in more detail below.

Lady Illmarrow, the Lich-Queen of Farlnen

As noted above, Lady Illmarrow forces her students and champions to undergo the bodak ritual, swearing oaths to their queen and carving her sigil over their hearts. As long as they serve her well, they have nothing to fear. But should they disappoint her or betray her, she can rip out their soul from afar and create a new bodak. Illmarrow can only maintain seven bodaks at a time, and she uses them as her eyes across Khorvaire—sending them to monitor important operations or to ensure the loyalty of a cell commander who might be wavering. Should one of her bodaks be destroyed, she can potentially create a new one from afar, as long as she has a marked minion in the region. It’s worth noting that she can’t just mark anyone; participating in the ritual requires a talent for Arcana and necromancy. So Illmarrow marks her students, but she can’t just mark the rank and file soldiers of the Emerald Claw.

Illmarrow’s bodaks retain much of the appearance they had in life. They have been hollowed out, but they still retain a shell of their original personality. These bodaks typically have an Intelligence of 12 (rather than the default of 7); they are capable agents pursuing Illmarrow’s agenda, not just slavering monsters. But they are still entirely bound to her and cannot question her orders. One option to consider is that when a bodak kills a mortal, it may gain a little strength and personality. This means that older bodaks may be more powerful and independent, which can make them useful to Illmarrow—but also, she doesn’t want them to become too independent, and may destroy a bodak that’s been around too long. This is a way to have adventurers encounter more powerful bodaks—and also potentially to have a story about a bodak trying to find a way to sever its ties to Illmarrow, which is hard when she can recall everything it sees and hears…

As noted above, bodaks are a great way to introduce Lady Illmarrow to adventurers early in a campaign. Bodaks are powerful enough to intimidate a squad of Claw goons, but not as deadly as a vampire or a death knight. They can provide a consistent “face” for the Emerald Claw—so adventurers feel like they are fighting Illmarrow, not just groups of thugs. A bodak could even have a limited Hat of Disguise that projects Illmarrow’s image over the creature when she is in direct control of it—so it doesn’t just speak with her voice, it reminds people exactly who they are dealing with.

Mazyralyx, the First Dracolich

The ancient dracolich Mazyralyx dwells in a vast cavern in the Demon Wastes, where he sits atop a vast hoard of bound souls and treasures gathered across the ages; it’s no wonder that some mortals call this the Lair of the Keeper. But Mazyralyx serves the overlord that created him—Katashka the Gatekeeper. Mazyralyx can maintain twelve bodaks; a few are nearly as old as the dracolich himself, but he replaces them as they are destroyed and the youngest of them are just a few years old. Mazyralyx uses his weakest bodaks to watch and assist cults of the Gatekeeper (as described in Exploring Eberron); most of the time such a bodak will just act as a guardian and enforcer for the living cult leader, but all know that it can speak with the voice of their true master. Katashka cults generally seek to become undead, but they knowingly or unknowingly serve the overlord by spreading fear of death and the undead, and the bodak will drive that agenda. Mazyralyx’s elder bodaks work with the Gatekeeper’s servants among the Lords of Dust, carrying out the Prophetic schemes that could one day free the overlord.

Beyond this, like the Keeper he resembles, Mazyralyx loves to collect interesting souls and treasures. His bodaks don’t pull souls into Mabar; instead, they draw the souls of any creature they kill with their “Withering Gaze” (which manifests as a shadowy breath weapon) to the dracolich’s hoard in the Lair of the Keeper; such a creature can only be returned to life through the use of a wish spell or by stealing the bound spirit from the Lair of the Keeper. At the DM’s discretion it could take time for the bodak to “digest” the soul—so if it is killed within one day, the soul is released to Dolurrh and can be raised normally. What this means is that Mazyralyx’s bodaks can show up targeting particular mortals or seeking a treasure that has caught the attention of the dracolich. It may not be clear how or why Mazyralyx has developed an interest in his prey; perhaps he’s heard of it through a Gatekeeper cult, perhaps he learned of it through the Prophecy. The point is that the people he targets are surely remarkable in SOME way—but it may not be clear to a mortal observer just what makes them special. These bodak reapers may have the ability to animate lesser undead; a target could be herded to the bodak by zombies or shadows. Typically, Mazyralyx abandons a hunt if a bodak reaper is destroyed; so it may be a challenging battle, but it is possible to escape the dracolich’s grasp.

In conclusion…

That’s all I have to say about bodaks at the moment. If you’ve done something interesting with a bodak in your campaign, share the story in the comments! In other news, Frontiers of Eberron is now available for preorder, and if you preorder you get the d20 conversion of the adventure “Heart of Stone” for free! If you plan to get a physical book with Print on Demand, you WILL be credited if you already have the PDF and get the PDF + Print bundle—so the only reason not to do the preorder is if you ONLY want the book in print, and no PDF. Beyond that, I want to thank my Patreon supporters for making articles like this possible—as I said above, patrons will have the chance to vote on the next obscure monster I write about!

IFAQ: Hellfire Weapons in Eberron

This is the oni Roo from my Graywall campaign, illustrated by Matthew Johnson. But she’s kinda fiendy?

Frontiers of Eberron is coming out in September! I am holding a live Q&A at Noon Pacific time TOMORROW, Saturday August 17th, to discuss the book. This is on my Patreon Discord channel, so you have to be a Threshold patron to participate. Even if you can’t attend live, the session will be recorded and shared for patrons. So, that’s a thing. Another benefit of being a Patron is that you get to ask me questions. Questions like…

What are your thoughts on hellfire weapons, lemures, and the River Styx in Eberron?

The principle of Hellfire Weapons is that they catch the souls of creatures killed by them and turn them into lemures on the River Styx, where they are recruited to fight in the Blood War. Eberron doesn’t have the River Styx or the Blood War. So what’s the point of Hellfire Weapons? Off the top of my head, I have three ideas.

One option is to tie them to Shavarath. Say that they’re tied to the Legion of Tyranny and that they catch souls and turn them into devils fighting for the Legion. On the surface, this fits the core idea—recruit you into an army of devils fighting an extraplanar war. But there’s a few issues, notably that mortal souls ALREADY fight in Shavarath. Every mortal projects a conscript into Shavarath, the same way you project a dream self into Dal Quor when you dream. In this very moment, you ARE fighting in the Eternal Battleground. Which makes Hellfire Weapons slightly redundant. The catch is that your conscript-self is recruited by whichever Legion most closely matches your values and nature; the Hellfire weapon would catch your soul and force it into service for Tyranny. If I ran with this idea I’d make it an extremely new development likely initiated by a mortal: the immortals of Shavarath have been fighting their war since the dawn of creation and don’t do dramatic innovation. The idea would be that a mortal (Warlock? Artificer? Dragon? All of the above?) came up with this plan, theorizing that this would be a way to slowly but inexorably shift the balance of power in Shavarath.

Having said that, this isn’t an option I’d use. The whole point of Shavarath is that it’s AN ETERNAL BATTLE. Everyone comes back. It’s not really an interesting backdrop for a CAMPAIGN… and also, again, it’s not really SUPPOSED to be a situation driven by dramatic shifts. Which brings us to option two. What I’d do is to keep the core idea of the hellfire weapon—if it kills you, you are reborn as a devil in a hellscape, stripped of memory and forced to fight—and dump the part where the battle takes place in another plane. That’s right: I’d say that hellfire weapons are manufactured by the Lords of Dust, and you don’t return to the River Styx, you return in THE DEMON WASTES. I’d say that this was a recent breakthrough in Ashtakala—facilitated by Hektula and Sul Khatesh—and that Rak Tulkhesh and, say, Eldrantulku are recruiting forces into the Demon Wastes in this way. In theory they are going to raise a vast army of corrupted mortal souls and roll over the Ghaash’kala and into Western Khorvaire… but for now, they’re mainly fighting each other. So as a campaign, you get killed with a hellfire weapon and find yourself as a lemure in the Demon Wastes, assigned to fight alongside one of the Carrion Tribes against rival Carrions. If this sounds interesting, check out this recent article on the Demon Wastes!

A third option—and the one I’d personally use—would be to say that the weapons are forged by Mordakhesh (albeit with the help of an innovative mortal artificer) and send your soul to the Bitter Shield, the heart demiplane of Rak Tulkhesh, which is another realm of endless war. In theory, again, Rak is building up a massive horde of soul-soldiers who will on day emerge to terrify Eberron, but in the meantime you are in a realm that is the heart of an overlord of war. There could be a river of blood there where you wash up that washes away some memory, filling the Styx role. You’re adjacent to Eberron, but is there any way for you to return to it? Unlike the other scenarios, in the Heart of Rak Tulkhesh the war truly is pointless; the “enemy” might change every day. But this could also be an interesting opportunity to explore a series of epically impossible conflicts, because this is essentially the dream of an archfiend of war. You and your fellow adventurer-recruits are assigned to a squad, and while everything around you changes from day to day, your squad sticks together. Today you need to sneak into a citadel mounted on the back of a tarrasque and kill the commander. Tomorrow you need to hold a narrow pass against a swarm of berserkers. What fresh terror will come up the day after that?

I haven’t read Descent Into Avernus, where Hellfire Weapons come from. so I don’t know how it handles the idea that the adventurers have been recruited into an endless, immortal war… specifically, how it handles death. If you return after you die, then why does any of it matter? Why is it exciting to try and infiltrate the Tarrasque Fortress; why not just jump off it and die? If I was running the session, I’d run with these principles…

  • Your soul has been bound to this battle. The arc of the campaign is about finding a way to escape and become mortal—or to choose to abandon mortality and try to make a real difference in the hellscape. To succeed on either path, you need to hold onto your mortal identity.
  • When you die you return. But each time you return, you lose a fraction of your identity and become a little more fiendish. I would have a little set of fiendish boons, and each time you die you get a new fiendish boon—possibly tied to the sort of fiend you’re becoming. But you’d also lose a fraction of your mortality… and I’d also have tasks and tools that respond to that mortality. So aside from your mortality being necessary to escape, it has a practical benefit if you can hold on to it. The main point here is that there is an end: if you lose all of your mortality and fully become a fiend, your character has been lost and you’ll become an NPC.
  • When you die you don’t return right away; essentially, you are reborn in the downtime between adventures. So an early death is going to hurt the odds of success for your party, potentially leading to a total party kill. Which is possible in this scenario because there will always be another war tomorrow. You will all lose some of your mortality, but failure is an option. I’d most likely recruit players whose characters have died to play NPCs for the duration of a session.

With all this in mind, a thing I’d at least consider is to not run this as a D&D campaign at all, but rather to use my own RPG system, Phoenix Dawn Command, which is all about death and rebirth. I’d just tweak the Phoenix system a little so that the schools represent different types of fiends; add the “mortality” element; and say that if you die seven times, you fully become a fiend and you’re lost.

Anyhow, I know this is very different than how they work in Descent to Avernus, but that’s how *I* would use Hellfire Weapons! And in case it’s not obvious, in all of these cases the soul is being diverted from its proper path—Dolurrh and whatever lies beyond. So it’s possible the Queen of the Dead might eventually take an interest once this hits a critical mass…

But wait! I thought that immortals couldn’t reproduce! Does this change that?

It is a basic principle of Eberron that immortals cannot be destroyed, but that they cannot reproduce—that an overlord is a finite pool of energy, and it supports a finite number of fiends. It’s possible that Hellfire Weapons are a new development that changes that, and there’s a simple precedent for how it would work: It’s a core belief of the Church of the Silver Flame that virtuous mortals join with the Flame after death and strengthen it. If this is actually true, it means that mortal souls are an energy source that can merge with and strengthen a source of immortal power. So it could be that a brilliant mortal artificer—and I say mortal because this is where I’d highlight that mortals are more innovative than immortals—has studied this and figured out a way to do the same for the overlords, binding mortal souls to strengthen the overlords. But even then, mortals bound to the Silver Flame don’t become full fledged celestials. And with that in mind, I’d say what’s happening with Hellfire Weapons is something entirely different. What APPEARS to happen is that a mortal killed by the weapon awakens in a new place as a weak fiend, and with each death they become more and more fiendish until they are full fiends. To an outsider this LOOKS like a new fiend is being born. But that’s not what’s happening at all. Remember that MOST of the fiends tied to an overlord were bound along with it; rakshasa are the most common native fiends because they were best able to escape this binding. What’s going on with Hellfire Weapons isn’t the creation of a new fiend; it’s that the mortal soul is being connected to a fiend bound by the Silver Flame and used as a means of escaping the Flame. Which is why you don’t want to die even though you’d get more power, and why the final fiend becomes an NPC—because it’s NOT the adventurer, it’s an ancient fiend who has hollowed out their soul and used it to escape.

So again, the point is that fiends ARE finite — Hellfire Weapons are a way to bring more fiends into the world, but it’s done by freeing them from their bonds.

Thanks again to my Patreon supporters for interesting questions and the support that makes these articles possible!

Dragonmark: Lamias of Eberron

Lamia by Brynn Metheney from the Monster Manual.

It is said that love is the origin of the lamia—deepest love of primal evil. A warlock may seek power from one of the foul overlords, but only the most remarkable can truly embrace their masters—loving Tyranny, War, Treachery, Secrets—and they are forever changed by this experience. The touch of the overlord burns their mortality away, freeing them from all fear of time but stripping them of the ability to sire or carry new life. Their bodies are reshaped in the feline mold of the spirits they embrace—though there are tales of lamia that are serpentine in appearance. If true, is this a reflection of the overlord that has touched them, or is it evidence that the rakshasa themselves have not always favored a feline appearance? Whatever the truth, the lamia retains half of its mortal form, and the lower shape of a beast. Like the rakshasa, it has the power to deceive and to charm mortals. The behavior of a lamia reflects the fiend it so loves. One that loves Tyranny will be a petty tyrant; one that loves Secrets may conceal itself in a place of knowledge, while one that loves Treachery will surely go into a place filled with people, where factions can be created and bloody feuds can be set in motion…

Dorius Alyre ir’Korran, The Manual Maleficent

The Age of Demons came to an end when the fiendish overlords were bound by the Silver Flame, along with their mightiest servants. But a few fiends slipped through the wards… especially the sly rakshasas, resistant as they are to all forms of magic. Ever since then the rakshasa have moved secretly among mortals, manipulating families and nations in pursuit of Prophetic ends. Along the way, countless mortals have been drawn into cults and into the service of the overlords. And a few among these attracted the attention of the greatest unbound servants of the overlords—the prakhutu. Rakshasas are immortal, and do not reproduce biologically. But there are consequences to loving a fiend. Those mortals who form a true union with a prakhutu—and through this lesser fiend, to the overlord itself—can be transformed by the experience, imbued with partial immortality and a spark of fiendish power. This is the origin of the lamia. Ultimately, immortals are ideas—and a lamia loves the idea of an overlord so deeply that it has become a part of them, forever changing them in the process.

The Monster Manual describes lamias as hedonistic tyrants, saying “Ruined desert cities and the tombs of forgotten monarchs make perfect lairs for the wicked lamias. These decadent monsters take what has been forgotten and make it the seat of their hedonistic rule, surrounding themselves with sycophants.” This is a perfect description of a lamia devoted to the overlord Tol Kharash, and there are such lamias living in the Barrens of Droaam. Some of the weaker lamias have embraced the Daughters of Sora Kell, and they are recognized as chibs within the structure of the nation. But there is one of greater power that defies the Daughters. Hezhala was once a hobgoblin dirge singer. She was seduced by the glorious vision of Tol Kharash and his avatar in that age, seeing in her mind an empire driven not by muut and atcha but rather by the adoration and fear of the perfect empress—her. She blends the powers of lamia and bard, and her words can break the minds of those that hear her. Centuries ago, she returned to the ruins of Ashar Draal, the city of her birth. Much like Ashtakala, Hezhala cloaked Ashar Draal in illusion. She bound a host of goblins to her will, along with ogres and orcs that she cloaked to have the appearance of bugbears and hobgoblins. She ruled an echo of the Dhakaani Empire, not as it was, but as it would have been under her rule. When Sora Teraza came to Ashar Draal, the blind sister wasn’t fooled by the illusions. She offered Hezhala the chance to be a part of something greater—to live in reality instead of clinging to illusion. But she would have to release her hold on her ensorcelled thralls—to embrace the Daughter’s vision. Hezhala refused; she was an empress and would not serve another, no matter how powerful they were. She ordered her champions to kill Sora Teraza, and that was a mistake. When Teraza returned to Ashar Draal, she came with Maenya’s Fist behind her. The city that had long been ruined was reduced to rubble, and today it is known as the Fallen Demesne. Hezhala’s fate is a mystery. She may be bound in chains below the Great Crag; or she may have escaped, and even now she may be dreaming of how she will one day rule the new nation the Daughters are building.

Hezhala is more powerful than a typical lamia. But the point remains: she is a lamia of Tyranny, a lover of Tol Kharash, and she seeks to rule her own petty domain. There are others like her at large in the Barrens. But this is not the only path a lamia can take…

  • A lamia devoted to Eldrantulku the Oathbreaker can use the standard lamia stat block. But they will dwell among people, hiding in a great city or court, disguising themselves with illusion and using their enchantments to encourage intrigues and to sow discord.
  • A lamia that loves Sul Khatesh adores watching the impact of dangerous knowledge. Such a lamia might run a coven of warlocks in a small village. They could maintain a “school of magic” in an out of the way tower, drawing in travelers and forcing them to be their pupils. Or they might find a place to hide in an institute of learning, guiding select pupils and driving them down dangerous paths. There could be lamias living in the stacks of the Library of Korranberg… possibly with the blessing of the gnomes.
  • A lamia bound to Tul Oreshka replaces Disguise Self with Invisibility, Suggestion with Crown of Madness, and Geas with Phantasmal Killer cast as a 5th level spell. They can cast message at will without disrupting their invisibility. They often live as solitary hermits contemplating mysteries, but when travelers draw near the lamia innately knows secrets that will hurt them, and may stalk them invisibly and whisper terrible things to them. When engaged in combat, Crown of Madness and Phantasmal Killer reflect their abilities to trap victims in their own minds, while puppeting their bodies.
  • Lamias tied to Rak Tulkhesh live to incite others to violence. They rarely stay in one place for long, because wherever they go violence follows. They have incited refugees to turn on those giving them shelter, seeking to take a new home by force… or causes those sheltering refugees to fear such an uprising and take dreadful action. They have enflamed tensions along borders, started crime wars between rival gangs, and far worse. There could be a lamia in Thaliost right now, while another lamia is running a cell of the Swords of Liberty in Breland.

Often a lamia will directly manipulate and rule a force of mortal thralls. However, some lamias love to embrace a talented mortal following the same path that they did. A lamia of Sul Khatesh may find an arcane prodigy and act as an advisor, encouraging the mortal student to start a coven. Lamias living among mortals sometimes start families; while lamia can’t have children of their own, they will steal mortal children and raise them, building families from scratch and guiding the family from the depths of their manor.

All lamia have ties to a prakhutu, but direct contact between them was fleeting and in the past. They love the overlord, and more specifically the idea of it. Lamia don’t usually have direct supervision or guidance from the Lords of Dust; they are usually left to follow their own instincts. However, a lamia may well be helping a prakhutu enact a particular path of the Prophecy — even if they don’t know it. But I could imagine a party of adventurers defeating a lamia in the deep library of Arcanix, only to hear a voice from the shadows…

Alas, poor Halarax. I always knew it would end this way, but it’s still a shame to see your lovely story end.” Time stands still as an old woman emerges from a book-lined passage. As she moves toward the fallen lamia, her form shimmers, and you see her feline shape, arcane sigils inscribed on her fur in steaming blood. You can feel her age, her power, and her sorrow. She stares into your eyes as she easily lifts the massive corpse with her twisted hands. “I cannot touch you today, little children. But one day… you will pay for killing my lover.”

And then she and the corpse are gone, and you can move again.

The lamias of Eberron typically have the lower bodies of tigers, a reflection of the rakshasa. However, a lamia can have a different appearance if that fits its story. Lamias were once mortal and their upper body reflects that original mortal form. A lamia under Arcanix might be a human or an elf. A lamia in the Barrens might have the torso of a hobgoblin or even of a minotaur. In creating a lamia, consider its history. Lamias have limited immortality; they are immune to the effects of aging, but they can be killed. Nonetheless, Hezhala was a dirge singer before the fall of Dhakaan; consider the things a lamia might have seen, the mortals it might have known. And as shown with Hezhala, a lamia could have greater powers than the basic stat block provides.

Dream Vampires. Many lamias lose the ability to dream as part of the price of their immortality. One myth says that lamias can remove their eyes, and must do so in order to sleep. While this is unlikely, some dreamless lamias learn how to form a connection to the dreams of mortals—to experience dreams through their victims. Such a lamia gains the ability to cast dream once per day, targeting a creature that has been affected by its Idyllic Touch within the last week. Some lamias simply observe their victim’s dreams, or send messages through dreams as a way to direct thralls. Others torment their victims, causing them to sicken and eventually die. This is the “Nightmare” effect of the Dream spell—preventing successful rest and inflicting 3d6 psychic damage. However, keep in mind that while it is mechanically a “nightmare”, the dream could be terrifying, inspiring, or ecstatic bliss; the point is that it is exhausting, reflecting the idea that the lamia is feeding on the victim’s dreams and lifeforce. The nature of the dreams should reflect the overlord the lamia is tied to, as well as their own desires. My thought is that this process prevents the dreamer from going to Dal Quor; the lamia’s Idyllic Touch forms a psychic bond and the victim essentially dreams in the mind of the lamia. So a lamia will never cross paths with a quori in Dal Quori, but a quori could take an interest in the fact that thralls are being cut off from Dal Quor. I might allow a dream-stealing lamia to send messages to any thrall they have a dream bond with, but the idea of this is that they can only feed on one at a time. So they might be able to cast Dream more than once, but they can only use the Nightmare ability once per day.

And now for something completely different… The idea I suggest above makes sense to me and ties to the standard D&D lore of the lamia in that they were once mortal but were transformed by their ties to fiends. However, there is another idea that is sitting in the back of my mind, something completely different but that feels like it could be fun. And this is the idea that lamias are from Sphinxlantis. Sphinxes are powerful members of the civilization of Sphinxlantis, who possess the ability to move through time. Lamias, on the other hand, are rogues and renegades who fled from Sphinxlantis—but it was a one way journey, and they have no ability to travel through time on their own. Following the idea that Sphinxlantis faced an inescapable doom, the common lamia could simply have fled to escape that doom and now seeks to live a hedonistic life in the place that it landed; this gives you the traditional lamia behavior described in the Monster Manual, the petty tyrant and pleasure seeker. On the other hand, you could have a lamia that has fled to a very specific moment in time because there is something it wishes to see or experience, or a person it wishes to interact with. In this, it’s essentially a weaker and more limited sphinx. A lamia might approach could be infatuated with a particular member of an adventuring party, refusing to say what it is that they’re going to do but constantly implying that they are going to be amazing. Such a lamia could be a helpful advisor—dropping the idea that all lamias are evil, though in the eyes of Sphinxlantis this lamia is surely a rogue. Or it could refuse to offer any useful advice, and at some point say “That’s it?” because the adventurer has actually accomplished the moment they came to witness… and the lamia now will try to assuage its disappointment by killing the adventurer.

While this is what I would do with lamias, there are many other good ideas out there. The moderator Jason on the Eberron Discord has a different take on lamias and the Fallen Demesne, and whether it’s to talk about lamias or anything else, it’s a great resource for all things Eberron. Check it out! And as always, thanks to my Patreon supporters for making these articles possible! I’m going to be previewing pieces of Frontiers of Eberron for patrons over the next few weeks, so if that sounds fun, now is a good time to join!

IFAQ: The Tain Gala

A female harpy singing and playing the lute.
Taleth of the Forgotten Choir will be performing at the next Tain Gala.

When time permits, I like to answer interesting questions posed by my Patreon supporters. Questions like this…

I have a session coming up that I’m setting at the Tain Gala. I was curious what sorts of things might go on at the gala that a level 3 or so party would reasonably be able to take part in? My hope for the session is that the players will walk away having made a good impression with some wealthy folk and have it lead into them gaining a group patron.

The Tain Gala was first introduced in the Sharn: City of Towers sourcebook, which had this to say about it.

The Tain Gala (first Far of each month): Balls, galas, and feasts occur throughout the year, as ambassadors, nobles, and dragonmarked heirs wine and dine their relatives and associates. However, the Tain Gala has become an institution in Sharn. The ir’Tains, one of the oldest and most powerful families in Sharn, owns many towers and their wealth rivals that of the Kundarak clan. The guest list of the Tain Gala defines the social order of the city. The families with permanent invitations to the Gala, the Sixty, are the royalty of Sharn.

In addition to these aristocrats and wealthy gentry, Lady Celyria ir’Tain does her best to invite a few unusual celebrities to entertain her guests—artists, poets, and sometimes adventurers. Aside from fantastic food and drink, such guests receive generous gifts and a temporary increase in status; for the next month, the attitude of any member of the Sixty is increased by one category when dealing with the celebrity. An adventurer known to be a friend of Lady ir’Tain often receives invitations to other events or other forms of special consideration.

The Tain Gala is first and foremost a place for the wealthiest and most powerful families of Sharn to mingle: to see and be seen, to share news and gossip, and to network with one another. It is a celebration of their power and wealth, which is displayed through the decor, the clothing, the food, and the entertainment. The attendees will eat, drink, gamble, and dance—all of which provide opportunities to share gossip and discuss plans. Eligible heirs will court and be courted. People engaged in business will talk to allies and rivals. Powerful people will discuss politics with city councilors. So it is a place to celebrate and to be entertained, but there are countless deals and schemes unfolding in the shadows. If you want a quick glimpse at what this is like, I suggest you watch Bridgerton or The Gilded Age. The Sixty Families are engaged in a complex dance that has been going on for ages and which will continue long after tonight.

Against the steady backdrop of the Sixty Families and their negotiations and intrigues, entertainment changes from month to month. There will always be music and dance; here’s a random table of possible performers.

Tain Gala Performers

d8Performer
1Taleth of the Forgotten Choir. A harpy songbird from Droaam and devotee of the Fury, whose enchanting voice draws emotion from even the hardest heart.
2Castalo Con Cavaron. One of the finest Thurimbar players of the modern age, this Zil gnome weaves the complexities of an orchestra with his mystical rod.
3The Hydra Quintet. The current prodigies of House Phiarlan’s Demesne of Music.
4The Brelish Symphony Orchestra. The top members of the orchestra, drawn away from the Kavarrah Concert Hall for this command performance.
5Elvinor d’Phiarlan. The current matriarch of House Phiarlan, giving a rare performance of the legendary Dance of Twenty Shadows.
6Strings of Steel. A warforged trio that’s become a sensation. Two members of the trio were built to perform, while the third is a former war hero now devoted to music.
7Duo Delo. A pair of changelings who blend song and dance, switching parts and voices throughout the performance.
8Hammertail. A trio from the Talenta Plains who combine percussion with sounds generated by small glidewings.

Beyond that, there will be special guests who have been invited to provide entertainment, whether through actual performance or simply by sharing their stories in conversations. There could be poets, actors, athletes or illusionists who will entertain others with impromptu performances. There might be war heroes, displaced Cyran nobles, or ambassadors from Aerenal or Riedra. This Tain Gala Guests table can help with random ideas, but it’s just a foundation; the point is, there will always be a small selection of people who aren’t part of the Sixty, who have been invited to liven up the gala.

Tain Gala Guests

1d10A…With…
1Cyran RefugeeA remarkable artifact
2War HeroA fascinating story
3Popular Actor or PoetAn urgent cause
4AmbassadorNews of a terrible disaster
5Passionate PriestAn exotic familiar or animal companion
6Legendary WizardAn investment opportunity
7Powerful NobleAn important announcement
8City CouncilorA desire to wed
9Dragonmarked HeirA call to action
10Wayfinder AdventurerRoll Again, but the guest is an imposter!

What about the Adventurers?

The main question to address if you’re running an adventure at the Tain Gala is why are the adventurers there? Here’s a few ideas.

Bodyguards. One of the regular guests of the gala asks the adventurers to accompany them because they are afraid of some sort of threat. This threat could be physical, social, or supernatural—as serious as assassination, or as casual as Saiden Boromar always steps on my feet—you need to make sure that doesn’t happen. The question here is why the guest is using the adventurers and not hiring Deneith or Medani. One option is that using house bodyguards is a sign of fear; the adventurers won’t be recognized as bodyguards by the other guests.

Fifteen Rounds of Fame. If the adventurers have done something dramatic and public as part of their adventures, Lady ir’Tain could want them to come and regale her guests with retellings of their recent deeds. This is an excellent opportunity for other guests to try to hire the adventurers for their own intrigues.

Background. One or more of the player characters could be invited based on their background. An entertainer could be hired to entertain; a good performance at the Tain Gala would open all sorts of doors. A soldier could be asked to share stories, or the gala could be having a special memorial for survivors of an especially brutal conflict. A sage could be asked to lecture on their area of expertise, or to confirm the authenticity of an artifact. In this case, the other adventurers could be present as guests of the honored guest.

Undercover. The adventurers are brought in by a guest who has a secret agenda. Posing as servants or family members, the adventurers are expected to break away and perform some sort of heist or scheme over the course of the gala. Alternatively, the adventurers could be hired by the Royal Eyes, King’s Citadel, or some other espionage agenda and charged to infiltrate the gala disguised as servants or entertainers.

Fight Club. We don’t talk about this, but… If you want to take a darker path, the ir’Tains could occasionally hire groups of adventurers to face off in (usually) non-lethal combat. This could be a special occasion—for example, a way to commemorate the festival of Brightblade—or it could be a dark secret that has been going on for years.

Scandal! Some member of the Sixty could choose to bring a group of adventurers to the Gala precisely because they don’t belong there. Cariana ir’Tain could meet the adventurers in a Callestan club and invite them to come to her home, neglecting to mention the big party that’s happening. Daral ir’Tain could want the adventurers to overshadow a rival noble’s big entrance.

Fifteen Rounds and Background are the best approaches if the goal is to connect the adventurers with a new patron; Undercover and Bodyguards are based on the idea that the party already has a patron who’s bringing them to the gala.

But what do you DO there?

As noted, the gala is a PARTY. People talk, drink, dance. What does this look like in terms of scenes and challenges for players? Here’s a few ideas.

  • Conversation. Much of the party is people talking to one another. A question is whether the adventurers are primarily interested in LISTENING—in which case you might have them make Insight and Perception checks to pick up interesting information—or if they are TALKING, in which case they should be making Charisma checks using the skill that matches their demeanor.
  • Dancing. Even if they have no interest in romance, adventurers might be asked to dance. At its simplest, a round of dancing could require a Performance or Acrobatics check. For something more dramatic—especially at a gala celebrating an important Cyran refugee—people could dance the Tago or something equally challenging. If romance IS part of the adventurer’s goals, Persuasion, Insight, or Deception could also come into play; you could draw out a single dance with multiple ability checks reflecting both physical and social talent.
  • Spotlight. Depending on their background and history, an adventurer could be the focus of attention, asked to regale the gathered guests with a description of their deeds or a demonstration of their skills. Depending on the stakes and the complexity of this, it could be a single ability check or it could be a series of checks that provides greater opportunity for a scale fo success and failure.
  • Gambling. There’s always a room where people play games. Depending on the time and the tone of the session, you could resolve gaming with ability checks or you could have players actually play a game. If you take this approach, you could create a unique game for your session; use games like Three Dragon Ante or Illimat; or as suggested in this article, use Chess or Poker as placeholders for Conqueror or Thrones.
  • Dining. Eat and drink! An uncouth adventurer could have to rely on Insight or Performance to keep from embarassing themselves; a finicky adventurer might have to make a Wisdom saving throw to force down a particularly unpleasant delicacy. Likewise, adventurers who choose to drink or partake in other intoxicants could have to make Constitution saves (with any relevant bonuses against poison); exhaustion is a reasonable mechanic to use for inebriation.

Now, I’ve suggested ability checks adventurers could make if you WANT to roll dice, but you don’t have to roll dice! Many of these situations work just fine as pure roleplaying. if you do choose to roll, this can be to measure the scale of success rather than to determine success or failure. The soldier can’t actually FAIL at telling her war story—but a exceptional role will make her the center of attention and perhaps earn an audience with the general in attendance. This latter point can be another key to what adventurers are DOING. If they are trying to acquire a patron or if they want to meet an important person who doesn’t mingle, they might have to impress the guests first. In this case, ability checks could be used, but again, failure doesn’t have to mean FAILURE; it just means the performance didn’t impress the people they hoped to impress. It could be as simple as telling the adventurers to get an audience with Saiden Boromar tonight, each one of you will have to do something that impresses people; you’ve got two chances. What do you do?

That’s all for now! This is only the tip of the iceberg, but hopefully it gives you some fun ideas to work with. Thanks to my Patreon supporters, who make these articles possible; I’m posting an extra People You Meet At The Party table on Patreon as bonus content for patrons. I’ll note that Taleth of the Forgotten Choir, the harpy pictured above (drawn by Matthew Johnson) is a player character in the new campaign I’m just starting for patrons! In addition, GenCon is coming up and some of my events are getting booked up: here’s my schedule, though I am NOT in Elisa Teague’s Legacy game and I’m in the 2 PM game on Sunday! I’d also like to give a shout out to friends making good things: KP11 Studios’ Project Dastan, the first studio actual play in India; Todd Stashwick’s Progcore Fantasy: Dark Age of Theer; and Foam Brain Games’ Lost Tome of Monsters 2!

Enjoy the Gala!