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Monsters of Eberron: Vampires

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“The first vampire was an elf named Vol. After living for centuries, Vol saw the end of his life approaching and was determined to escape death. He prayed to the Sovereigns, but they dismissed his prayers. All journeys have an end, Kol Korran told him. Do not fear what lies beyond, Arawai said. Trust in our love. But Vol had no faith in the Sovereigns, and so he turned to the Dark Six in his quest for immortality. They were willing to aid him… but they had demands. The Keeper pledged not to take Vol’s life, but only so long as Vol continued to add to the Keeper’s hoard, sending him a steady stream of innocent souls. The Fury made Vol a natural predator, but charged him to prey upon his own kind. The Mockery made Vol a master deceiver able to move unrecognized among the living, but demanded that he spread terror with his deeds. And the Shadow made Vol the master of the night, able to command its creatures, to dissipate into mist, to enforce his will upon weak minds. They made Vol a champion of the shadows, a corpse imbued with a semblance of life so it could kill and kill again, spreading terror and feeding the Keeper. The Sovereigns could not simply undo what the Six had created, but they laid their own bans upon Vol. Dol Arrah cursed Vol; he might be the king of the night, the light of day would burn him to ash. Boldrei forbade Vol from entering any home, unless he was invited within. And Arawai said that as Vol had broken the cycle of nature, wood and water would be his enemies. Running water reflects the endless motion of nature, and it would tear away the vampire’s false life. And a simple stake of wood, driven through the heart, would lay the vampire to rest.” 

This is a story the Vassals tell. The elves of Aerenal don’t believe in the Sovereigns; they say it is Mabar that empowers a vampire to live on after death so long as they feed the Endless Night with a steady stream of blood and souls. Gift of the Shadow or the Endless Night, it makes little difference. The vampire is a corpse animated in violation of nature, which must consume the blood and essence of the living to sustain its undead existence. They hide among the living in order to prey upon them, and have the power to spread their corruption—consuming the souls of those they drain of blood, allowing them to rise as hungry spawn. But they cannot stand Arrah’s light, and they cannot enter a home without an invitation. So cling to the light and take care you know those you welcome into your home—for the vampires are waiting in the shadows, and they are hungry.   

—Dorius Alyre ir’Korran, The Manual Maleficent

Vampires are an iconic undead creature. Canonically, vampirism has become a practical tool in Eberron: the Bloodsails, the Seekers of the Divinity Within, and the Line of Vol all make use of vampirism as a way of extending life after death. It’s not surprising to find a vampire leading an Emerald Claw cell. But such a vampire is typically relevant as a threat in combat; the Emerald Claw usually isn’t very subtle. With this article, I want to start by exploring what makes vampires distinct from other common forms of undead and considering how this can apply to stories you might tell… and then to look closer at the role of vampires in everyday life in Khorvaire, and different sorts of vampires one could encounter. 

VAMPIRE STORIES

Set aside mechanics for a moment. What is it that makes a vampire spooky? What are hooks you can work into a story? Here’s a few. 

  • Walking Dead. A vampire is an animated corpse. Aside from the various immunities this grants, it highlights the fact that they are deeply unnatural. They should be dead and yet they aren’t. It’s easy to ignore this—in part because typically, they don’t rot like a zombie—but when you stop and think about it, it’s disturbing. They are DEAD, but some power moves through them and makes their dead flesh move, sustaining them as long as they continue to feed on the living. There’s lots of little ways you can play with this. Cold flesh. They don’t drink… wine. Most notably, in combat I will typically describe a creature’s loss of hit points and nicks and grazes, near misses and deflected blows. In the case of undead creatures like vampires I may choose to highlight that an attack strikes true and just has minimal effect. You drive your dagger into his side, piercing the kidney. It’s a perfect, crippling blow… but he just laughs, and no blood flows as you pull the blade free from his body. 
  • Predators. Vampires consume the life force of the living, typically through the medium of blood. They are wolves among sheep, and mortals are their prey. Often this is reflected by their appearance; not only can they conceal their undead nature, but they are charming or attractive, able to lure mortals to their doom. Now, specific vampires may resist their predatory urges—but it’s the fact that they are driven by their hunger that makes that a compelling story, as they strive to hold onto their humanity and not to become a ruthless predator.  
  • Infestation. Specifics vary by tale, but under the mechanics of 5E, if a humanoid creature is slain by the life-draining bite of a vampire and buried in the ground, they will rise as a vampire spawn under the control of their sire. Depending on the needs of the story, a vampire may already have a network of spawn when it is encountered by adventurers—or a tale could involve the slow spread of a vampire’s reach throughout a community. This is especially effective when someone near and dear to the adventurers becomes spawn, or when the spawn is someone who was a hero in life—a friar of the Silver Flame who helped organize the fight against the vampire, or a young poet who wouldn’t hurt a fly. The point is that the vampire doesn’t just kill its victims—it turns them into tools, mocking who they were in life. 
  • Age and Influence. Vampires don’t have to be old. But part of the story of the vampire is eternal life, and this can be a compelling part of a vampire’s story. Did this vampire fight alongside Tira Miron when she founded the Church of the Silver Flame? Was it there when Halas Tarkanan collapsed the old towers of Sharn? Did the vampire know an adventurer’s parents—has it been watching them, all this time? A secondary aspect of this is the fact that a vampire may have resources that can play a major role in a story. A vampire may have caches of gold and supplies hidden around Khorvaire. It could have a family of loyal servants that have been bound to it for generations. It could have friends in very high places, or very low ones. In Aundair, Lady Talon is an elf noble who advised King Galifar during the war of unification. She just had lunch with Minister Adal. And you want me to believe that she’s some kind of monster? This influence could also be maintained through the use of a faithful (humanoid) familiar with a hat of disguise—King Kaius just gave a speech in the plaza while the sun was at its height. And he regularly speaks out against the Blood of Vol. The idea that he could be a vampire is preposterous. Often, part of what drives a vampire hunting story is the fact that no one else but the adventurers can or will pursue the vampire; either no one believes what the adventurers know, or the vampire’s influence is so strong (reinforced by Charm and by well-placed spawn) that the forces that should help are turned against the party.
  • Weakness. A vampire regenerates 20 hit points a turn, and can escape in mist form when it needs to get away. It cannot be killed by brute force… unless its weaknesses are brought into play. If cannot enter a home unless it is invited—giving adventurers ways to find a safe haven even when facing an overpowering foe. The vampire’s efforts to overcome its weaknesses and the adventurers’ attempts to take advantage of them add flavor to a story—especially if those weaknesses aren’t what the adventurers assume them to be. 

Keeping all those things in mind, let’s consider some of the ways adventurers might encounter a vampire. 

The Random Encounter. The adventurers are racing to reach an artifact in Xen’drik before the Order of the Emerald Claw finds it… and the captain of the Emerald Claw force is a vampire. In such a scenario, the fact that the enemy is a vampire may only become relevant in battle; they’re just a powerful foe to be overcome. Of course, they’ll primarily want to move at night and will have difficulty with water. But the DM might also emphasize their ability to charm people to get the things they want… or play up the infestation aspect as a weapon in their arsenal. Perhaps the artifact is hidden somewhere in a region populated by small villages of tabaxi. The adventurers discover a village that appears to be completely empty; the Emerald Claw has clearly passed through, but there is absolutely no sign of the tabaxi inhabitants. Then as night falls, the former villagers burrow up out of the ground, red eyes gleaming in the moonlight; the vampire killed them all, and left them to return as spawn as a trap for the adventurers. Such a scenario is both an opportunity for a challenging fight and a chance to showcase the utter cruelty and bloodthirst of the vampire, who’s willing to drain an entire village just to mock their rivals. 

They Are The Land. The vampire is in a position of unquestioned authority in an isolated place. The Lhazaar Principalities are an easy option for this, allowing a vampire to have entrenched power stretching back for generations. But they could just as easily be the lord of a remote community in the Five Nations… or the captain of a ship, or the foreman of a factory. The point is that they hold power; they have a secure stronghold and considerable resources; and that the local population supports them, whether due to actual devotion or simply because of overwhelming terror. Such a vampire might have supernatural connections that go beyond their typical powers. Perhaps the vampire can see through the eyes of every rat in their domain. Maybe they control the weather. Perhaps they have shadow-minions that can possess the shadows of residents or visitors. The adventurers can’t figure out how the count seems to know their every plan… and then they realize the wizard’s shadow is moving on its own!

The Spreading Cult. You have a quest that’s brought you to this small town, and that’s going to keep you there for a while, a quest that has nothing to do with vampires. But some of the people are acting strangely. When a blood-drained corpse shows up on the edge of town, you suspect there’s a vampire about… and perhaps you even have a clash with a spawn that proves it. But how do you go about discovering the identity of the vampire, and how do you balance it with your primary quest? How do you deal with it if someone vital to your quest becomes a spawn—or if you discover the identity of the vampire, only to realize that you need their help to accomplish your quest? I’ve suggested this as a small town scenario, but in a large town the spread of a vampire’s brood could be lost amid the noise of everyday activity. Perhaps the vampire targets a local gang; they’re already prone to violence, so a few deaths will go unnoticed. Once they’ve secured the gang, they start spreading throughout the entire underworld. Or perhaps they’re pursuing a political agenda… and once again, what do you do if you discover this, but you and the vampire both want the same political outcome? Do you destroy the vampire if it means losing that crucial vote? An interesting secondary question is what you do about the spawn after you defeat the master vampire. Do you hunt them all down, even those that used to be your friends or loved ones? Or do you believe that they can resist the hunger and retain their humanity? 

The Ancient Enemy. By the Monster Manual entry, a vampire spellcaster is a CR 15 creature—not something a low level character could face. I’ll talk more about this below, but one option is to say that there’s a vampire that has feuding with your family for countless generations, killing each member of your bloodline as soon as they have a child. The vampire shows up occasionally, to see how you’re doing and to mock you before vanishing in mist. Perhaps you go to sleep in an inn, only to wake up to find the innkeeper turned to spawn. Hopefully its overconfidence will be the end of it! Alternatively, the vampire in this scenario could be an agent of the Emerald Claw in addition to being the scourge of your bloodline; in addition to haunting you, they are also carrying out missions for Lady Illmarrow. If you cross paths, they won’t kill you, because it’s not time yet; but they can still make you suffer!   

The Desperate Spawn. A vampire exerts control over the spawn that it creates. But some spawn cling to their humanity and seek to defy their undead master. Your adventurers could receive assistance from just such a spawn. They might be very limited in the help they can provide, or only able to assist in certain places or at certain times. But this can be a compelling way to have a vampire as an ally. Of course, the question is whether the adventurers can trust the spawn… does it truly seek to retain its humanity? Or does it simply want its master slain so it can be independent and pursue its own malevolent path? 

The Repentant Monster. Vampires don’t have to do evil or to be evil. The hunger of Mabar—or whatever power animates the vampire—drives them to prey on the living, but they can fight these urges. The vampire mentors of the Blood of Vol are an example of this; they are sustained by blood freely given by the faithful, and (at least in theory) devote their undead existence to guiding and protecting Seekers. While there’s nothing wrong with having a vampire who’s never done anything bad in its entire existence, a repentant monster can be a compelling character. Most vampires begin as spawn under the control of a sire, who might make them do terrible things; consider a certain vampire king in Eberron canon who was forced to murder his beloved spouse. Or consider Angel from the Buffy series; his infamous past highlighted his currently heroism and also served as a lingering threat. This ties to a vampire’s longevity. How will adventurers react when they learn that the vampire NPC who’s serving as a patron or mentor now was an infamous murderer when they served alongside Malleon the Reaver? Do they believe that they are truly repentant? 

In considering these stories—I should call out the following concept from Chronicles of Eberron:

Once you have one vampire, it’s easy to make more … so why aren’t vampires more common? The primary reason is that it’s not easy being a vampire. A vampire is bound to Mabar, and Mabar is hungry. This fuels a vampire’s thirst for both the blood and life energy of the living, and over time, it becomes increasingly difficult for a vampire not to see all living creatures as prey. A weak-willed vampire quickly devolves into a feral predator; such creatures use the statistics of vampire spawn, but their Intelligence is more a measure of cunning than of rational thought. It takes strong will to maintain your personality as a vampire, and stronger still to maintain any empathy or compassion for other creatures. This is why vampires are seen as monsters, for many do become ghoulish killers that need to be hunted down by templars of the Silver Flame, the knights of Dol Arrah, or the Aereni Deathguard. This is an additional reason most vampires don’t make legions of spawn; all it takes is one spawn going feral and drawing templars to town to lead to a deep purge. Undead have no rights under the Code of Galifar, and destroying a vampire isn’t considered murder; you’d just better be sure the mayor is a vampire before you kill him.

You don’t have to embrace this idea, and it’s also something that could vary by strain. In the case of a cult, the idea is that the willpower of the sire sustains the spawn, but that if the master is slain the spawn could devolve into monsters. Likewise, in cultures like the Blood of Vol or the Bloodsails where vampirism is an accepted tool, a newborn will be guided through their new existence, so the feral collapse is rare. But it’s a reason people aren’t lining up to become vampires… and a challenge you’ll have to deal with when facing a cult. 

VAMPIRIC POWER

The default vampire in the Monster Manual has a Challenge Rating of 13-15… far too powerful for a starting party of adventurers. It also feels pretty dramatically powerful to use in many of the situations that have been described above. Is every vampire Bloodsail CR 13? Are you going to run up against a CR 15 vampire “mentor” if you start a brawl in a Seeker community? The CR 15 vampire spellcaster works great for The Ancient Enemy or They Are The Land… but it can be overpowering when you just want to have a vampire leading a small Emerald Claw cell. 

The simplest answer is that most of the vampires in Khorvaire—Seeker guides, Bloodsail pirates, Emerald Claw officers—aren’t vampires; they’re vampire spawn. With both the Bloodsails and the Blood of Vol, there are a few full vampires—Grim Lords of Farlnen, members of the Crimson Covenant—who turn the mortal aspirants who have earned a vampiric existence. In those cultures, the sire typically doesn’t enforce their will over their spawn, though they could. And in time, the spawn might earn the blood of their sire and unlock greater power. Nonetheless, the “typical” vampire you’re likely to encounter as a Seeker guide or an Emerald Claw enforcer would actually be a vampire spawn… which, at CR 5, is a more reasonable challenge for a low level group of adventurers. 

While this is a practical solution to the power level of a vampire, the default vampire spawn lacks many of the classic vampire powers and isn’t the most interesting opponent. I’m posting a companion article on my Patreon that provides additional options for vampire spawn to make them more interesting enemies.  

STRAINS AND BLOODLINES

There are many different forms of vampire that can be found across Khorvaire. The Qabalrin strain is the most widespread and well known, and it’s what the common person thinks of when they hear the word “vampire”. This section discusses the Qabalrin vampire and a few of the other bloodlines out in the world. 

Qabalrin: The Common Vampire

When the typical citizen of the Five Nations, they think of an undead creature with fangs, an affinity for bats and wolves, an aversion to sunlight and an inability to enter homes unless invited. Academics refer to this strain as the Qabalrin Vampire, as it was believed to have been created by the necromancers of the Qabalrin elves in Xen’drik. The Line of Vol revived this strain in Aerenal, and there were a number of such vampires among the elf refugees and exiles who fled following the destruction of the Line of Vol. Some went north and helped found the Bloodsail Principality on the island of Farlnen. Other exiled vampires traveled inland and helped establish the faith now known as the Blood of Vol. But there were a handful of vampires who broke ties with their fellow elves and carved their own paths… and they and their spawn spread out across Khorvaire and into infamous legend. While the oldest Qabalrin vampires are elves, over the course of their migration they have created spawn of many different species. It’s worth noting that “Qabalrin Vampire” is an academic term; even among the Seekers and the Bloodsails, most people simply refer to these creatures as “vampires.”

Qabalrin vampires use the Vampire and Vampire Spawn stat blocks from the Monster Manual, and have the standard weaknesses. Their Charm effect involves manipulation of desire and allure; their victims adore them. The Bloodsails have developed a magic item they call the Torc of Blood and Salt. When attuned, this protects a vampire from being harmed by running water; however, water dramatically bubbles and steams when in contact with the vampire. 

Qabalrin Example: The Phantom of the Grand Stage. An adventurer in Sharn is approached by an old friend who works at the Grand Stage in Upper Menthis. This friend has only been working at the Stage a little while, but it’s an excellent job they want to keep. But they’ve noticed something strange. The beloved leading man often seems pale and weak after major performances. There’s a surprising turnover in stagehands. The director absolutely refuses to make changes to a particular script, and the manager refuses to take the actor’s concerns seriously. Can the adventurers get to the bottom of this? One or more members of the stage crew are vampire spawn… and the investigation shows that their sire is a powerful Brelish noble. They finally come face to face with the Phantom, who wears a mask and has no desire to fight them; she appreciates how well they’ve played their roles. She tells them she’ll be leaving town for a decade now… and if the adventurers stop digging into her affairs, she’ll let them live. Perhaps if there’s a bard in the party, she even offers to sponsor their work; she would be an influential patron. At CR 13 the Phantom is too powerful for the adventurers to defeat; if they attack she might toy with them before making her offer again. Do they let her go? Do they fight until one or more of them are dead, at which point she laughs and mists away? Or do they agree to her terms, but then seek out allies—templars, knights of Dol Arrah—who can help them bring down the Phantom?  

Barrowbones: Vassals of the Bone King

Do y’know the story of King Odakyr, lad? This was before Karrn the Conqueror, before anyone ever sought the Divinity Within. Odakyr was a warlord and a tyrant, and he drew power from the darkness in the land. It was said the shadows obeyed his beck and call. He was a cruel man, and his own son eventually brought an end to his reign with a sharp length of steel. But just one day after Odakyr was laid beneath the stones, he rose from his barrow and slew the young prince. He ruled on then, holding court only at night, and his council had more shadows than it did ministers. It was Halon Harn who finally did him in, the greatest grandsire of House Deneith, the model for the Sentinel Marshals of today. But some say Odakyr’s shadow slipped away after the battle… and that he still lingers, haunting his long-buried barrow.   

The Bone King of Mabar can transform chosen mortals into vampires. Often this starts with a warlock-like pact. As with the story of Odakyr, the mortal might gain powers tied to the shadows of Mabar—abilities in line with those of a Hexblade or Undead warlock. When the individual dies, they rise again, infused with the hunger of the Endless Night. This is the source of the academic name for the line, as old stories speak of tyrants rising in their barrows. This can be a useful option for a recurring villain; the adventurers may bring an enemy down or see them die, only to have them return later in the campaign as a vampire. When a barrowbone vampire is finally destroyed, its spirit is drawn to the domain of the Bone King in Mabar, where it lingers as a wraith. 

Barrowbone vampires don’t have dainty fangs. When they reveal their true nature, their jaws distend to reveal rows of needle-like teeth. Long bone talons extend from their fingers; barrowbone vampires inflict slashing damage with their unarmed attacks. When a barrowbone is struck with a grievous wound, shadow leaks from them instead of blood. Barrowbone vampires don’t cast shadows—but the Bone King typically grants a vampire an undead shadow that accompanies the vassal, concealing this absence.

A barrowbone vampire may use the vampire or vampire spawn stat block as a foundation, reflecting the power of the vassal. Make the following changes to the base stat block. 

  • Barrowbone vampires aren’t Harmed By Running Water and don’t have the Forbiddance weakness. However, they are vulnerable to Radiant damage. 
  • A barrowbone can only use its Shapechange to assume mist form; for the barrowbone, this manifests as transforming into a shadow. 
  • A barrowbone’s Children of the Night trait summons 1d4 Shadows. 
  • While the barrowbone’s Charm action causes a creature to become charmed, the experience for the victim is one of abject terror; the victim feels that they must do what the vampire asks of them or they will be destroyed.
  • A humanoid drained and slain by a barrowbone’s bite returns after burial with the statistics of a ghoul. These ghoul-spawn retain their appearance and memories from life, though like vampire spawn they are under the control of the vampire that made them. They cannot create other ghouls. 

Barrowbone Example: King Odakyr. As described in the legend above, Odakyr ruled as a tyrant long before the Seekers of the Divinity Within settled in the region that still bears his name. Over the centuries he has occasionally returned and sought to dominate the mortals that dwell in his ancestral domain, but Seeker champions have driven him back. Yet no one has ever found his resting place, hidden deep below the Mabaran manifest zone at the heart of the region. Odakyr is now the site of Fort Bones. Adventurers could get drawn into Odakyr’s attempt to return and seize control of Fort Bones; perhaps the Bone King has given him power over the Karrnathi undead! Or perhaps it’s a dungeon crawl, and adventurers need to delve into his deep crypt to recover an artifact the Bone King gave to the fallen tyrant long ago… 

Souldrinkers: The Keeper’s Chosen

Legends say Souldrinkers are bound to the Keeper and the Shadow, as described in the myth that starts this article. However, it may well be that they are creations of the dracolich Mazryalyx, the master of the Keeper’s Lair. Either way, the fact is the same. They are undead predators who pay for their eternal life by consuming innocent souls. Because of this, souldrinkers are often solitary wanderers, traveling from place to place, moving on after they have fulfilled their appetites. Souldrinkers often have a particular taste; a souldrinker might only drain poets, or soldiers, or people in the depths of despair. 

Souldrinkers don’t have fangs. They have a second tongue with a barbed end that can extend up to a foot from their mouth. In their vampiric form they appear to be ancient, with papery skin stretched over bone and eyes of pure darkness sunk deep in their sockets. They can use either the vampire or vampire spawn stat blocks as a foundation, with the following changes. 

  • Souldrinkers aren’t harmed by Running Water or by Stakes to the Heart. They are vulnerable to psychic damage, as they feel things very intensely. They can only be truly destroyed by psychic damage, eradicating their will to return. 
  • A souldrinker can use Shapechange to assume the form of a beast that can be summoned with Find Familiar. Each souldrinker has a specific beast form it can take; once chosen this cannot be changed. 
  • Souldrinkers retain traces of the memories of the creatures they drain. A Souldrinker can speak with the voices of its victims, using these to taunt adventurers with those they’ve lost. A Souldrinker can cast speak with dead targeting its victims, as if their bodies were present. When the sun sets, a Souldrinker can choose one skill or tool that one of its former victims was proficient in; for the next 24 hours, the Souldrinker has proficiency and expertise with that skill. 
  • Souldrinkers do not have the Children of the Night trait. 
  • Souldrinkers don’t create spawn. Someone reduced to zero hit points by a Souldrinker can only be restored to life by a wish spell. The DM must decide if the souls remain within the Souldrinker—in which case, the victims could be restored to life through normal methods if the Souldrinker is destroyed—or if they are channeled to a specific place or power, such as the Lair of the Keeper.  

Malefic Vampires: Spawn of the Overlords

Ultimately, vampires are creatures that appear to be humanoids and prey on humanoids in order to prolong their unnatural existence. Many of the overlords can corrupt mortals to create predators. Such malefic vampires may be undead, or they may be fiends; it’s up to the DM to decide if they are a corpse animated by demonic forces, or a mortal husk possessed by fiendish power. There’s a few examples of malefic vampires, but it’s not a conclusive list. 

  • The Cold Sun. Vampires created by the overlord Masvirik manifest serpentine traits. When they reveal their vampiric nature their jaws distend and reveal long, serpentine fangs; they shed their skin, revealing scales underneath. In addition to the standard effect, someone bitten by a Cold Sun vampire must make a Constitution saving throw (DC 17 for a vampire, DC 14 for spawn) or be paralyzed for one minute; the victim repeats the saving throw at the end of each of their turns, ending the effect on success and gaining immunity to that vampire’s venom for one minute. Poison Dusk vampires aren’t harmed by running water, but they are vulnerable to fire damage. A Poison Dusk vampire can shapechange into mist or into a tiny snake; the Children of the Night action can be used to summon 1d4 swarms of poisonous snakes. 
  • The Heart of Winter. Vampires created by the overlord Draal Khatuur have veins filled with frozen blood. They don’t actually drink blood, but instead absorb the heat from creatures they embrace. When they reveal their vampire form, their flesh is encased in frost and they radiate an aura of cold, inflicting 5 cold damage on any creature that starts its turn adjacent to the vampire. Iceblood vampires are immune to cold damage and vulnerable to fire damage. In place of Charm, they can use an effect that mimics hold person; the victim is actually frozen for the duration of the spell. Icebloods don’t have the Forbiddance weakness, but they cannot move within 5 feet of a source of fire equal to or larger than a torch. The only form an iceblood vampire can take with shapechanging is a cold mist. Iceblood vampires don’t have the Children of the Night trait, but they can cast Ray of Frost, which manifests as the vampire trying to suck the warmth from the target at a distance. 
  • The Oathbreaker. Eldrantulku loves to sow strife and intrigue among allies, and oathbreaker vampires use their gifts to set feuds in motion and cause vendettas. Once an oathbreaker vampire has tasted a humanoid’s blood, it gains a number of benefits. It can use its Shapechanger ability to duplicate the appearance of the victim (or to assume a misty form). It can cast dream on the victim once per day. And it can cast detect thoughts on the victim from any distance, provided they are both on the same plane. The victim feels that they are being watched when this occurs, but cannot identify the source of the sensation. If a victim makes a successful saving throw against either dream or detect thoughts, they are immune to the oathbreaker’s manipulations for 24 hours. Oathbreaker vampires don’t have the Children of Night trait. 
  • The Gatekeeper. Katashka delights in spreading fear of the undead among mortals, and prefers its minions to be ghastly and dramatic. The nosferatu presented in Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft is a good example of a vampiric creature Katashka would create; the Gatekeeper is also known to create Spawn of Kyuss, though in Eberron these are “Spawn of Katashka.” 

Abominations: Creations of the Daelkyr 

The daelkyr have created their own variations of vampires and vampire spawn. Often, these creatures are alien entities animating corpses, and are aberrations rather than undead. Kyrzin vampires are a form of ooze that replaces the victim’s blood; when they use Misty Escape, they actually abandon their host body in vaporous form and have to animate a new corpse; they summon oozes instead of rats and bats. Valaara’s vampires are insect colonies animating corpses, a more subtle form of the Spawn of Kyuss. Dyrrn creates psychic vampires that consume thoughts instead of blood. 

Thelanian Vampires: Storybook Villains

While academics use the term “Thelanian,” most Thelanian vampires are natives of the material plane. Often they are transformed due to a connection to an archfey, similar to the relationship between the Bone King of Mabar and the barrowbone vampires. Lady Talon is an example of a Thelanian vampire; she is tied to the fey of the Riverwood, and has become something more than mortal. Thelanian vampires are considered to be fey as opposed to undead, but the key is that they are still unnaturally extending their life by consuming the blood or energy of others. The cosmetic details of a Thelanian vampire should reflect the Archfey or tale that has spawned them. The Archfey of the Riverwood is tied to owls, and so is Lady Talon; and as a spirit of the Riverwood, she enjoys running water. Typically, every Thelanian vampire will be unique; learning about the fey or the tale they are tied to will be the key to understanding their powers. 

ALTERNATE WEAKNESSES

Chronicles of Eberron suggests a number of alternative weaknesses for vampires. Here’s a few ideas that could be used instead of or in addition to the standard options. These ideas aren’t especially restricted to vampires; they could be tied to oathbound, death knights, or any other undead with an appropriate story. 

Anchors. The Monster Manual suggests that a vampire must be tied to its coffin and to grave dirt from the site of its original burial. But depending on the strain of the vampire and its personal story, it could be connected to something other than a coffin. This could be similar to a lich’s phylactery, an object that facilitates the vampire’s return if it is destroyed. Perhaps a barrowbone tyrant doesn’t flee in mist form, but they are tied to their spiked adamantine crown. They will only truly be defeated (and condemned to wraithdom) if the crown is destroyed; otherwise, some weak-willed mortal will be compelled to put on the crown, and their body will be reshaped into that of the vampire. Or perhaps specific abilities of the vampire are tied to an object. A handsome vampire keeps a portrait made of them in life in their mansion; if it is burnt, the vampire will be unable to conceal their true nature, becoming hideous and withered. A Thelanian vampire might be tried to a tree. They meld with the tree when they rest or retreat, and the sap of the tree is instead all the blood the vampire has drained from its victims. 

Ghostlight. Something familiar to players of Phoenix Dawn Command, this is the idea that certain undead are vulnerable to relics and reminders of their original death. By learning the history of the creature, adventurers can learn how to effectively defeat it. King Odakyr was first killed by his son, a human wielding a dagger. The closer adventurers can get to recreating this original death, the more bonuses they should receive. At the simplest level, a human attacking Odakyr with a dagger could get advantage to attack rolls. If the human is wearing a piece of clothing or jewelry that belonged to Odakyr’s son, the king might be vulnerable to the damage they inflict. If they can find the actual dagger originally used to kill him, they might get all of that and negate his regeneration, or score critical hits on an 18-20. Conversely, you could say that Odakyr cannot be permanently slain any other way, which is why he lingers to this day; the dagger is lost and has never been found. The point of this is to encourage and reward investigation; the only way to defeat the undead creature is to understand it, and to confront it with its own mortality. 

The Power of Faith. While many divine spellcasters have ways to harm undead, on its own a holy symbol has no power over a vampire. In my campaign, I like to give such symbols power based on the faith of the vampire. If a vampire (or other sentient undead creature) was an especially devout follower of a particular faith, it must make a Wisdom saving throw (DC 13) when someone uses an action to brandish a holy symbol of that faith and castigate them. If it fails the saving throw, the undead creature is frightened of the symbol until the end of the brandishing character’s next turn. For a more intense situation, a DM could allow a character of strong faith to take a bonus action to engage in an opposed Religion check with the vampire; if the adventurer wins the contest, the vampire has disadvantage on attack rolls against them and they have advantage on saving throws against its attacks until the end of their next turn. In both of these cases, the key is that the vampire has to have once had faith, and the adventurers have to know what it was they believed in. The point is that if a Souldrinker vampire believes its power comes from the Keeper, there is a level at which it believes it is an abomination in Dol Arrah’s eyes—and thus it responds to being cursed in her name. But a Qabalrin vampire that never believed in any power greater than itself won’t be shaken by your invocation of Aureon or the Flame. 

WHAT ABOUT DHAMPIRS?

Dhampirs possess vampiric traits but aren’t actually undead. In Chronicles of Eberron I suggested that dhampirs could mortals born in Mabaran manifest zones and touched by its all-consuming hunger, or that they could be shaped by pacts with Katshka or the Keeper. These ideas still work, but another option is that you became a dhampir due to extended contact with a vampire. Perhaps you were kept prisoner by a vampire, drained just to the edge of death time and again; you survived and eventually escaped, but you were forever changed by the experience. Maybe you were actually slain and returned as a vampire spawn… but due to a quirk of your sire’s bloodline, when it was destroyed, all of its spawn were returned to the half-life of the dhampir. Or perhaps you were a familiar who willingly bound yourself to a vampire… and through this bargain, you gained a fraction of your vampire’s power. 

That’s all for now, but I’m posting a companion article on my Patreon that delves deeper into vampire spawn, familiars, and dhampir, including optional abilities for vampire spawn and a background for familiars! I’m also going to be hosting a live Q&A on Discord this Sunday for my Threshold patrons, discussing ways to handle spooky stories and horror in D&D! 

Monsters of Eberron: Quaggoths and the Gaa’aram

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The Quaggoth as depicted in the 2014 Monster Manual

Frontiers of Eberron is out on the DM’s Guild, and I’m going to be writing some supplemental articles tied to Quickstone and the Western Frontier over the next few weeks. But I also answer questions for my patrons on Patreon. And every now and then, something that SEEMS like an obscure question takes on a life of its own. Case in point: “What’s the role of quaggoths in Eberron?” And if you don’t care about quaggoths, there’s another way to use these concepts — consider the Gaa’aram! 

Now,  I’ve never actually SEEN a quaggoth. But I’ll tell you a story. If you know your history, you know that there wasn’t any sort of indigenous culture on Aerenal when the elves landed there. They didn’t arrive as conquerors or colonizers—they were desperate, starving refugees lucky to escape the destruction of Xen’drik. It was a stroke of good fortune that they found such a fertile, uninhabited realm. 

That’s what history says, and what the typical elf believes. But it’s not quite true. The valleys and fields of the island were uninhabited, yes. The elves came in peace, and as they laid down their roots and raised their walls, all they had to deal with were their own restless dead. But as time passed they spread farther and dug deeper. The line of Tolaen went the deepest of all. The Tolaen were from the evernight jungles of Xen’drik, and they were well used to working with wood. They made a business of lumber, and it’s a path on which they’ve prospered; to this day, it’s the Tolaen who sell soarwood to the gnomes and bronzewood to the smiths. But every path has a beginning. The Tolaen set their sights on the vast jungle they call Jaelarthal Orioth. In this wood they saw a treasure as rich as any dragon’s hoard. But the Moonsword Jungle is deep and wide, so vast that a people could live there for ten thousand years and never be seen by those beyond its edge. And so it was with the quaggoths. They had lived in the deepest part of the Orioth since before elves were elves, minding their own business and taking no interest in the world beyond the woods. Quaggoths are primal creatures on the line between beast and humanoid, more bear than bugbear. They have a simple language and use basic tools, but they are driven by instinct as much as reason. I can’t tell you how the war between Tolaen elf and quaggoth began. It’s easy to imagine it was the Tolaen that struck the first blow. Of all of the Aereni lines, they’ve always been steeped in war; Tolaen champions are as fierce as any Tairnadal. But it could have been the quaggoths who struck first. They’d never encountered any humanoid species before, and the Tolaen came for lumber; the quaggoths might have seen them as alien and abominable, a foe that had to be destroyed at all costs. Most likely the truth lies somewhere between; the quaggoths saw the elves as defilers, and the Tolaen responded to the attack as they would to an assault by giants or dragons. Whoever struck that first blow, it was no fair fight… and once the Tolaen begin a thing, they see it through. By the time the war was over there were no quaggoths living in the Moonsword Jungle. The Tolaen buried the story along with the bones of the quaggoths, and today there is no Tolaen still living that knows the tale; only the dead and the deathless remember it. 

But not all of the quaggoths died in the Jaelarthal Orioth. As their people were falling, a quaggoth clan fled east, making their way to a place where no elf would follow them—the shunned shadows of the Madwood. The roots of that jungle run all the way to Xoriat, and there are cracks and chasms that lead to the heart of Khyber. The soil soaked up the anger and despair of the quaggoths, and it bloomed in the shadows. A pure force of fury flowered in the Madwood, and it flowed into the veins of the quaggoths. Nothing can live in the Madwood for long, and the quaggoths made their way down into the sheltering darkness of Khyber. There they’ve remained for thousands of years. Their pale fur has forgotten the sun, but their hatred still burns bright… and that fury gives them power. 

DRIVEN BY RAGE

While quaggoths have a simple language, they have always possessed an intuitive empathy that allows them to understand one another. The quaggoths who fled into the Madwood were driven by fear and anger—and hatred of the alien abominations who defiled their home and slaughtered their kin. Through that empathetic link they carried all the rage of the quaggoths that had fallen with them into the Madwood, and the power within that place crystalized that into a force with a life of its own. The Quaggoth Rage is a psychic power tied to every quaggoth descended from those original survivors, in much the same way that the kalashtar are tied to their quori spirits. It is not a sentient entity that communicates with the quaggoths; but it is a potent force within their subconscious, burning anger waiting to be unleashed. Young quaggoths learn to contain this rage, so as not to lash out at their own kind—but it is always there, and can be seen when an injured quaggoth enters their Wounded Fury. Usually a wounded quaggoth has an enemy they can focus on; but when there are no enemies, it can be a challenge for the injured quaggoth to control their rage and avoid attacking their own allies. 

Wounded Fury is a trait all quaggoths share. But some quaggoths have a closer connection to the Rage, and can manifest its power in different ways. Some draw on the Rage to strengthen themselves in battle, but others learn to manipulate the rage in subtle ways. These quaggoths are called thonots. They serve as the spiritual leaders and champions of their people, filling the same role as clerics or paladins. But thonots aren’t drawing on a divine force; they are channeling their own ancestral rage, and their supernatural abilities are psionic in nature. The choices of a powerful thonot can shape the direction of an entire quaggoth community. A Thonot can use their gifts to contain the rage of their people, drawing the anger away from them and helping to maintain a stable, peaceful community. On the other hand, an angry thonot can amplify the Rage, broadcasting it through the empathic connection, driving an entire clan to roam as aggressive nomads seeking endless conflict to satiate their bottomless rage. The Rage is, ultimately, directed at elves—but most subterranean quaggoths have never seen an actual elf. Encountering an elf for the first time can be an intense trigger for even the most peaceful quaggoth; they don’t remember the details of what happened to their ancestors, but they feel an intense desire to spill elf blood. 

The Power of Rage

Under the 2014 rules of fifth edition, all quaggoths possess the Wounded Fury trait. In my interpretation, quaggoth champions could draw on the Rage to produce more dramatic effects. Here’s a few abilities a DM could choose to give to an elite quaggoth. I wouldn’t give one quaggoth ALL of these abilities; the point is to have the Rage manifest in different ways and to make quaggoths interesting and unpredictable.  

  • Reckless Attack. When the quaggoth makes an attack roll using Strength they can choose to gain advantage on the roll; if they do so, all attack rolls made against them have advantage until the start of their next turn. 
  • Vengeful Strike. When the quaggoth is struck with a melee attack, they can use their reaction to make a melee attack against the attacker. 
  • Destructive Fury. When the quaggoth makes a successful melee attack, they can enter a state of fury that lasts for one minute or until the quaggoth triggers its Wounded Fury, whichever comes first. While in this state, the quaggoth deals an additional 7 (2d6) damage to any creature it hits with a melee attack, but when it does so it suffers 3 (1d6) damage that cannot be reduced in any way.   
  • Terrifying Blow. When the quaggoth strikes an enemy with a melee attack, they can channel their Rage to strike with devastating force and terrify their foe. If they choose to do so, both the quaggoth and the target suffer an additional 7 (2d6) damage and the target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw (based on the champion’s Strength or Dexterity, default 13) or be frightened of the quaggoth until the end of its next turn. 
  • Psychic Howl. When the quaggoth drops to half its total maximum hit points or below, it can immediately use a reaction to emit a psychic howl of pain and rage. All enemies within 30 feet must make a Wisdom saving throw (based on the champion’s Strength or Dexterity, default 13); those who fail are frightened of the quaggoth until the end of its next turn. 

Thonots, Revisited

The 2014 rules give quaggoth thonots Innate Spellcasting (Psionics). The thonot can cast a number of spells without need for components, using Wisdom as their spellcasting ability. This concept works, but the spells don’t particularly fit my concept of the thonot manipulating or channeling rage. As such, here’s a few different options you could grant to thonots, reflecting different ways of harnessing the Rage. 

  • Forceful. The forceful thonot channels the Rage into telekinetic force. They can cast the following spells: Eldritch Blast, Mage Hand; Entangle, Levitate, Shatter, Shield. When cast in this way, Entangle reflects manifestation of telekinetic threads rather than vines.   
  • Fury. The furious thonot projects the Rage as a telepathic assault, terrifying or paralyzing enemies. They can cast the following spells: True Strike, Vicious Mockery; 1/day Cause Fear, Crown of Madness, Hellish Rebuke, Hold Person. When cast in this way, Hellish Rebuke deals psychic damage. 
  • Empath. The rarest form of thonot, the empath uses their understanding of rage to absorb fury, soothing friend or foe. They can cast the following spells: Guidance, Message; 1/day Calm Emotions, Detect Thoughts, Enthrall, Sanctuary. 

This is a general set of rules for reflecting typical thonots. A more powerful thonot could have an expanded spell selection. Beyond this, powerful thonots could have broader abilities that affect a larger region. A thonot fury might modify the Wounded Fury trait of quaggoth allies to trigger when a quaggoth reaches half its hit points. Less mechanically, it would generally drive the quaggoths around it to aggression; a campaign of quaggoth attacks could be stopped by defeating the thonot enraging the clan. On the other side, a thonot empath might have a permanent sanctuary effect—negated for a round if it takes an aggressive action—and reduce the aggression of quaggoths in its clan. 

Scattered Across The Deep

Quaggoths descended into Khyber long ago and were scattered across its passages and demiplanes. As a result, they could be found almost anywhere. 

  • A quaggoth clan could be found in the Realm Below under one a Mror Holdfast; they could be fighting against aberrations, or they could be enslaved by neogi or illithids and forced to fight the surface dwellers.
  • A clan could be allied with Umbragen drow beneath Xen’drik, perhaps joining forces to fight a Sileus Tairn warclan. 
  • A new village in Aundair or the Eldeen Reaches could be plagued by a series of elf disappearances. The murderer is a quaggoth driven by their ancestral fury, not even truly knowing why they are compelled to kill these pointy-eared softskins; this could be the key that draws the adventurers to uncover the hidden shame of the Line of Tolaen. 
  • Thonots are sensitive to rage and hatred. A thonot could be drawn to the heated emotions of Thaliost. A thonot fury might unintentionally amplify the rage of the locals and trigger greater outbreaks of violence; a thonot empath could create a pocket of peace by consuming the rage, even if the locals don’t know the source of this. 

Part of the idea of the quaggoths is that they initially just appear to be aggressive berserkers, but that if adventurers dig deeper they discover that the quaggoths aren’t driven by simple cruelty or by an overlord, but rather that they are haunted by their own ancestral rage. The quaggoths themselves don’t know their perfect history, but adventurers could find a way to get to the truth and to reveal the ancient crime of the line of Tolaen; there may be Tolaen deathless who took part in the original massacre or even set it in motion. Can the adventurers help settle this ancient injustice? 

No Quaggoths? Meet the Gaa’aram.

The world of Eberron can feel kind of crowded when you start squeezing in every monster that’s ever existed. What I like about the quaggoths is the idea of a species scarred by an ancient trauma that has grown in strength and that they carry with them. Quaggoths are aggressive not because they are evil, but because they are literally haunted by the pain inflicted upon their ancestors. However, there’s another way to use these idea—a culture driven by lingering rage, whose champions and shamans channel its power—without adding a new creature to the mix. Meet the Gaa’aram orcs of Droaam—the “Children of Wrath.” Exploring Eberron says…

The Gaa’aram orcs embraced the chaotic, raiding lifestyle of the Barrens. Where the goblins and kobolds were often enslaved by more powerful creatures, the Gaa’aram voluntarily rallied around the most powerful leaders and served as fierce warriors. To an orc of the Gaa’aram, who you fight for is less important than the fact that you fight and fight well. As such, Gaa’aram orcs were often encountered as raiders; they’re the reason for the name of the Orcbone fortress that guards the Gap of Graywall. Gaa’aram orcs can be found in all of the diverse cities, and they’re passionate supporters both of Droaam and their local warlords. 

The Gaa’aram could adopt all of the ideas suggested here for the quaggoths. Rather than being driven into the depths by the elves, the Gaa’aram were driven to the edge of the Barrens by the Dhakaani. Rather than the Madwood, it was Dyrrn the Corruptor who crystalized their Rage and bound it to them, making them another point of chaos in the final days of the Dhakaani empire. The idea remains that the Gaa’aram are linked to their ancestral Rage; it’s not just that they LIKE fighting, it’s that they cannot contain their own anger; it’s only by directing it outward at enemies that they keep from tearing themselves apart. If I were to use this Quaagoth story for the Gaa’aram, I’d do the following. 

  • I’d add the Wounded Fury trait of the quaggoth to Gaa’aram orcs: While it has 10 hit points or fewer, the gaa’aram has advantage on attack rolls. In addition, it deals an extra 7 (2d6) damage to any target it hits with a melee attack.
  • I’d add thonots to Gaa’aram culture; they could be Vola’Aram, “Wrath Speakers.” I’d likely drop the idea of Gaa’aram empaths, BUT I could see adding mystics with the abilities of the thonot empaths to the OTHER orc culture of Droaam, the peaceful Gaa’ran. A twist would be that the Gaa’ran ALSO feel the Rage but manage to contain it; that they are pacifists because they refuse to give into that burning fury, and that if they began to fight they might not be able to stop. Their secret, essentially, is that they’re always angry. 

As the Gaa’aram are an aggressive part of Droaam and notably make up part of the population of Turakbar’s Fist, this is something you can easily use in a Frontiers of Eberron campaign! 

Why Does It Matter? 

Many of you, like me, may never have used a quaggoth in your campaign and you may wonder why write about quaggoths? As I mentioned above, I like the idea of taking these monsters long depicted as savage beserkers and cannibals and saying that they are in fact driven by ancient injustice and trauma; that they are in some ways prisoners of the pain inflicted upon their ancestors. Beyond that, I like the idea of this parallel to the Kalashtar—that there is a psychic force bound to a humanoid bloodline that can grant them psychic power. And I like the idea of creatures so tied to rage that they can either be drawn to aggression in places like Thaliost—or that, as with the empath, they are so attuned to fury that they have learned to disperse it. Meanwhile, the Gaa’aram have been a part of Droaam since Exploring Eberron. Here again I like the idea that it’s not just that they are a militant culture, but that they are involuntarily tied to this ancestral rage that drives them onward; that if they don’t find an outlet for it, they will essentially explode.

A Gaa’aram orc is an easy option for a player character, if someone chose to explore it. This could be reflected by an orc barbarian, but it could also be a path for any of the psionic subclasses in the 2024 rules, looking to the Rage as the source of their power. Quaggoths don’t exist as a playable species. Aside from their fury, their dominant traits are immunity to poison, a climbing speed, and claw attacks. One option would be to use tabaxi for a quaggoth character; the tabaxi has claws and a climbing speed. The tabaxi’s Feline Agility could be represented as furious adrenaline, or a DM might be willing to exchange it for resistance to poison damage and advantage on poison saving throws. A player character wouldn’t have the Wounded Fury trait, but this could be reflected by a barbarian’s rage. 

So for the thousands of you wondering about the role of quaggoths in Eberron—your long wait is finally over! Thanks as always to my Patreon supporters, who both determine the topics of these articles and make it possible for me to write them—if you want to see more articles like this one, check it out! 

Monsters of Eberron: The Bodak

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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!