Tag Archives: Undead

IFAQ: Flameskulls, Seeker Rituals, the Queen of the Dead and More!

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A half-hag halfling mixes a disturbing cocktail as they prepare to tell a spooky story.
Nunu the bartender loves a spooky story! Art by Matthew Johnson

Every month I answer questions posed by my Patreon supporters. Here’s a few of the interesting questions that have come up this month. In addition, if you’re a Threshold patron you can apply to play in Eberron games I run online. The next game is this Sunday from 10 AM – 2 PM Pacific Time, and I’ll be taking player applications for the next 48 hours. If you’re interested in playing, you can find out more here—but you have to be a Threshold patron to apply. Anyhow, let’s get on with the questions!

The Fort Bones Eye on Eberron article mentions rites that mitigate the power of Mabar in the area, and allow agriculture in the region. The article further notes that when Kaina ir’Duna interfered with the latter rites near the beginning of the Last War, it was disastrous for agriculture and contributed to Karrnath’s famines. I am thinking of setting a campaign at Fort Bones, and my question is what those rites might look like and, loosely speaking, what they might consist of in game terms?

Mabar is the source of negative energy; it consumes life and causes despair. Mabaran manifest zones radiate negative energy, which will cause crops to fail and animals to wither. Seekers contain this energy by using it to perform necromantic magic. Here’s a few rituals that are used for this purpose.

  • The first and most frequent is Tolling The Dead. The priest gathers the faithful and together they sing prayers and tell stories of the fallen ancestors of the people in the community and other Seeker heroes. With each individual, they generate a pulse of negative energy that blasts into the sky, accompanied by the sound of a great bell. This is essentially the cantrip Toll The Dead, amplified by the group participation and ritual casting. It’s not designed to serve as a weapon; the pulse blasts directly up. The purpose is simply to catch the negative energy and channel it up and away. While meanwhile, as a religious ceremony, it is about remembering those that have been lost.
  • Every other week, there is a communion service that involves a long and extensive performance of Speak With Dead. The dead are often turned into zombies or skeletons, but Seekers respected for their wisdom may be kept aside from this; their skulls are preserved and polished, and brought out for this service. Anyone in the community can request a chance to ask a question of one of these wise skulls. This begins with a Tolling service that celebrates each of the mentors, remembering their deeds in life before giving people the chance to speak with their remains. Keep in mind that Speak With Dead only draws on traces of memory that cling to the remains; the spirits of the Seekers are gone!
  • The third option is the creation and maintenance of the undead, typically zombies and skeletons. When a member of the community dies and is chosen for service in undeath, the community will gather and celebrate the victim’s life, after which the priest will animate their remains. Since this only happens when someone dies, it’s not a regular thing. However, there is also a weekly ritual in which the undead servants in a community are brought together. The priest tells the story of each one, reminding people who they were in life and thanking them for their service in death. This ritual channels negative energy to sustain the undead and repair any damage they have suffered.

This isn’t a conclusive list, but it’s a few options to work with!

Art by Ron Spears from the Fourth Edition Monster Manual

What’s the role of Flameskulls in Eberron?

In MY campaign, flameskulls are created using a form of the Odakyr rites—the same rituals used to create the Karrnathi undead. This has a few important aspects.

  • A flameskull can only be created from the remains of a spellcaster capable of casting the spells on the flameskull’s spell list. You have to lose a capable spellcaster before you can create a flameskull.
  • Creating a flameskull requires a very capable necromancer anchoring a ritual performed by multiple adepts. I’d make the eye gems of a flameskull Khyber dragonshards enchanted in a particular way. So Malevanor could make a flameskull, but it’s not something your typical Seeker village priest could do.
  • A flameskull is intelligent, but it’s not HUMAN. As called out in canon lore, “A flameskull only dimly recalls its former life.” I’d tie this to what I’ve already said about the Karrnathi undead: that IN THEORY they are guided by the patriotic spirit of Karrnath, but in practice, it’s possible that they are guided by Mabaran fiends, by Lady Illmarrow, or something else. These Odakyr flameskulls were used as mobile artillery by Karrnath during the Last War, but because of the restrictions—you need a dead wizard to make one—they were relatively uncommon.

That’s the STANDARD story for the most widespread form of flameskull. But you could also have unique flameskulls created in other ways — a malevolent flameskull that DOES remember its previous life and which was reanimated by either Sul Khatesh or Katashka the Gatekeeper. An ancient Dhakaani flameskull, all that remains of a great Dirge Singer; instead of FLAME, her spells are based on sound and deal thunder damage instead of fire damage. A flameskull that was once a priest of the Shadow, whose spells deal necrotic damage. (To be clear, my point here is that you don’t have to actually change the flameskull’s spell list, though you could. The point of the shadowskull is that it would be wreathed in dark mist, and it would attack with a shadow ray that deals 3d6 necrotic damage and cast shadow sphere or shadowball — which work exactly like flaming sphere or fireball, but deal necrotic damage.) A fun twist on the shadowskull would be to reverse the Illumination trait; it can either change bright light to dim light within 15 feet, or extend darkness to 15 feet and dim light to 15 feet beyond that.

Some years ago, you offered a take on Erandis Vol and the Raven Queen in Eberron; that Erandis IS the Raven Queen, and that she is trying to/needs to ascend to take her rightful place as Queen of the Dead. Can you expand on that a little? What does the Erandis need for the ritual of ascension? Does current Erandis even *know* that’s what she’s trying to do, or is she simply trying to unlock her dragonmark? How would you handle Illmarrow as a campaign villain with this sort of thing as a finale? Presumably Erandis’ ascension is a good(ish) thing, but the PCs will likely be diametrically opposed to her; stopping her ascension would be a victory for the PCs, but leave Dolurrh without a Queen, which seems like a problem.

This is the article in question. I expanded on this concept in Exploring Eberron in the section on Dolurrh:

The Once and Future Queen of the Dead. The Queen of the Dead is an enigmatic figure who wields great power in Dolurrh. But there’s another being who uses this title: Erandis Vol, the last heir of the Mark of Death. Through her agents in the Order of the Emerald Claw and beyond, Erandis seeks to restore the power of her dragonmark; no one knows what godlike powers she might wield if she unlocks its full potential. Meanwhile, Dolurrh’s Queen of the Dead seems to oppose Erandis, and often sends her agents—both shadar-kai and adventurers she’s restored to life at a price—to interfere with Vol’s schemes. This could be exactly what it appears… But perhaps there’s more to it. Time works in strange ways when dealing with the planes and beings of vast power. Perhaps the Queen of the Dead isn’t trying to stop Erandis, but guiding her down a very specific path. Perhaps Erandis will become the Queen of the Dead, in which case, she’ll have always been her. Or perhaps that’s what’s supposed to happen, but there’s a way in which it could still go wrong… which could destroy the Queen of the Dead and throw Dolurrh itself into chaos.

So first of all, the central idea here is that Erandis doesn’t know what she’s trying to do. She’s not TRYING to become the queen of Dolurrh; she “seeks to restore the power of her dragonmark; no one knows what godlike powers she might wield if she unlocks its full potential.” Erandis wants POWER. She wants to achieve the destiny that was stolen from her. And in the pursuit of that power, she will do terrible things and kill countless innocents. So there’s not supposed to be any question that Erandis’s ascension is a bad bad thing. As I’ve said before, Erandis and the Emerald Claw are intended to be pulp villains; you aren’t supposed to question whether opposing them is the right thing to do. And the Queen of the Dead can serve as a patron, guiding the adventurers—potentially, setting their service in stopping Erandis as the price of resurrection (though I’ve got more thoughts on this below!). Erandis is performing unnatural acts of necromancy and the Queen wants the adventurers to stop it.

But how does this work as a campaign? How can the adventurers go through a series of sessions where they oppose Erandis’s plans? If they succeed and interfere, she won’t ascend, right? And if they fail, assuming they don’t die, won’t it just be frustrating to fail again and again? This is a basic question that can apply to ANY campaign in which the DM has a villain that’s supposed to be building to a big climax — how do the adventurers feel like they are accomplishing something meaningful without derailing the big final act of the story? The answer is that just as you want space in a game for the players to fail forward, you want room for the villains to do so as well. Don’t create stories in which the only options are absolute success or absolute failure; you want to have missions in which the adventurers can accomplish a heroic task while Erandis still gets what she needs to move forward. Consider these examples…

  • The Emerald Claw sets up an Emerald Reanimator in the heart of Sharn, triggering a zombie apocalypse. The adventurers, we hope, destroy the reanimator and save the city. But after this victory, the Queen of the Dead whispers to them that this is only one link in a chain. Erandis’s goal was to charge a special Khyber shard with necrotic energy, and the animator was active for long enough to accomplish this task. Her minions have escaped with the charged shard, and she will surely return again.
  • The Emerald Claw launches an attack in Arcanix. The adventurers fight their way down through the great library, leading to a final conflict with a bodak who’s—reading a book. When the adventurers break into the vault, the bodak looks up at them and laughs with Erandis’s vault. “You’re too late,” she says. “I needed to read one page within the Qabalrin Codex… and now I have.”

The point of these stories is that the adventurers SAVE SHARN AND ARCANIX. They save countless innocents and are heralded as heroes. But there was never a version of the scenario in which they could get to the bodak before they read the book. And yet, the adventurers didn’t even know the book was her goal until the final scene. It’s a solid victory for them; but Erandis also got what she needed. And all of this builds until the end, where Erandis is about to trigger her ascension. The adventurers ready for the final battle and suddenly time stops and the Queen of the Dead speaks in their minds. Do not interfere. You must allow her to do this. She does not know the path she is stepping on, but it is a path she must take. And for the stability of the world you know, you must allow her to do it. And now we know: The Queen of the Dead wanted the adventurers to save as many innocents as possible, but she didn’t mention the Qabalrin Codex because she needed Erandis to get the book. From the start, she’s told the adventurers enough to help them minimize the damage of Erandis’s actions—but her goal was never to stop her. What will they do?

This is a sort of railroad; you aren’t giving the players the option to stop Erandis in advance. But the point is that every victory along the way had to be earned. If they failed in Sharn the city would become a zombie-filled necropolis. If they failed in Arcanix, the Emerald Claw would have claimed countless war rituals. But Erandis was always going to move forward. It’s NOW, in the final act, that they have to make the true choice. Do they trust the Queen of the Dead and allow Erandis to complete the ritual—at which point she discovers her ascension is not what she thought? Or do they fight it? In this instance, I’d set things entirely in their hands (and the dice). They can defeat Erandis and stop the ritual… and which point the Queen of the Dead will howl and vanish, and suddenly the world will be plagued by countless restless ghosts, the product of chaos in Dolurrh. In which case the final act becomes the adventurers undoing the damage they’ve caused. Can they restore Erandis as the Queen of the Dead? Or do they need to find a NEW ruler of Dolurrh — perhaps, even having one of them somehow take up the mantle themselves?

An image of two elves sitting in court along with a baboon with a metal headdress and facial tattoos.
Art by Andrew Jones from the 3.5 Eberron Campaign Setting

The most famous artwork which represents elves of the Undying Court has an ape on it. What is the role or symbolism of apes for Aerenal and Court?

It’s not that the Court as a whole has an affinity for apes; it’s that THAT BABOON is an actual member of the Undying Court. That’s Caerzha the Old, one of the Gyrderi Druids trapped in wild shape by the Cul’sir; sustained by primal magic, he lived long enough to be raised to the Court after his passing.

That’s all for now! Thanks again to my patrons for asking interesting questions and making these articles possible.

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!

November IFAQ Roundup: Atur Innovations, Karrnathi Law, and History vs Thelanis!

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The wandslinger Three Widow Jane by Matthew Johnson

Each month I answer questions posed by my Patreon supporters. Here’s a few interesting ones from November!

We know that Atur has skeletal street crew and Oathbound bartenders, but what are some other more unorthodox examples of casual necromancy within Atur?

Atur, the City of Night, is an independent duchy within Karrnath. This article provides a broad look at the city, while this article takes a closer look at the Grand Duke of Atur. As presented in these articles, Atur is a stronghold of the Blood of Vol in part because the city is built at the heart of a powerful Mabaran manifest zone. This allows for widespread use of necromancy in the same way that the manifest zones of Sharn makes it possible to build sky scraping towers. In fact, the ongoing rituals of the Blood of Vol play a crucial role in channeling and containing the dangerous energies of Mabar. Here’s a key quote from the first Atur article…

The Seekers have no attachment to corpses and most are happy to donate their remains to serve the greater good. As a result, skeletons are found performing menial tasks and manual labor across the city. Because they serve many different functions, they’re generally painted to indicate their service; blood-red for those associated with the Monastery or other temples, dark green for sanitation, black and gold for those tied to the city watch, blue for this tied to commerce; artists add often secondary designs that give each skeleton a little personality. However, these are standard skeletons, possessing limited intelligence; they are managed by Bone Wranglers, specialized magewrights who effectively program the undead.

So, skeletal labor is common place. But what are some other manifestations of necromancy in Atur? Here’s a few.

Bone Beasts. Obedient and tireless, skeletons make excellent laborers. While Atur is infamous for its practice of animating the bones of its citizens, the city makes use of the bones of many creatures. Skeletal horses, oxen, and tribex are found drawing wagons and coaches throughout the city. Skeletal hounds and wolves are employed as tireless watchdogs. Skeletal cats and rats control the living rate population. Skeletal pigeons are used as couriers. If you’re wondering how could a skeletal pigeon fly without flesh or feathers, consider that the bones of a skeletal are held together by mystical force, essentially translucent ectoplasm. It’s this same force that takes the place of the feathers and flesh of a skeletal bird. While the remains of any birds can be used to create couriers, pigeons are the most common choice.

Garghouls. The bonesmiths of Atur aren’t limited to direct animation of remains, and they create many forms of undead that use only parts of a corpse. Garghouls typically use a skull, which is embedded into a door or a statue and empowered to perform specific actions. For example, a door may have a skull embedded into it; the skull is aware of the people on the doorstep, and if you speak the proper password it will unlock the door. Properly enchanted garghouls can speak or sing, though they are not properly sentient and can only repeat phrases implanted by bone wranglers. Garghouls are often used as another form of security, triggering an alarm, glyph of warding, or simply taking notes on intruders or people they observe.

Ghastlights. As called out above, skeletons are held together by an ectoplasmic force. This is typically invisible, but under the right circumstances it can manifest as a green glow. The streetlights of Atur take advantage of this phenomenon. Shards of bone are implanted in lanterns shed an eerie light. The essence burns out over time, so you have bone-tenders wandering the streets with bags of broken bones freshening the lamps. Just as the towers of Sharn rely on the Syranian manifest zone, ghastlights only function in Mabaran zones with the proper traits.

Remnants. Some bonesmiths and wranglers specialize in working with partial remains. Garghouls are one example of this, but there’s a wide range of options. In Atur, you could encounter a gearwheel being turned by a tirelessly pumping pair of skeletal legs, or a chair with a pair of skeletal arms that massage you while you relax. Helping hands are skeletal hands that can be programmed to serve a variety of functions; consider Thing from The Addams Family. Most helping hands aren’t fully sentient and can only perform specific actions. However, there is a ritual that can bind a greater degree of a person’s essence to their hand… creating a creature that uses the stat block of the crawling claw, but without being inherently evil. Bones from a specific creature have a sympathetic resonance, which is why animate dead typically can’t use bones from multiple creatures mixed together. Bonesmiths can work with this connection; mansions in Atur have bone boards, where moving a knucklebone in the dining room (or any other room) rattles a matching fingerbone in the servant’s station.

Funerary Fashion. Remnants can be incorporated into clothing; fingerbones are often used as clasps. One of the more colorful accessories is the rasp, a skeletal serpent programmed to serve as a belt, boa, or other form of adornment. In addition to serving as a practical belt or fashion accessories. Rasps typically use the poisonous snake stat block combined with skeleton traits; they don’t produce poison, but can at least serve as a brief distraction if flung at an enemy and commanded to attack.

Bone Grafts. Eberron: Rising From The Last War introduces prosthetic limbs—common magic items that can take the place of a lost limb. Throughout the Five Nations these are usually made from wood or metal. In Atur, they are typically made from bone—which could be the polished bone from the original severed limb, or the limb of a different creature. It’s up to the DM to decide if these prosthetic limbs function beyond Atur and can thus be encountered anywhere in the world, or if they only function in a Mabaran manifest zone. Beyond their appearance, they function like typical prosthetic limbs. While they are made using necromantic rituals, they draw on the lifeforce of the bearer and thus aren’t affected by turn undead or similar effects. And before anyone asks, you can definitely get a skeletal version of an arcane propulsion arm!

These are just a few examples, but I hope they’ll inspire more ideas!

For a cleric of the Divinity Within, how do you flavor spells/features which explicitly summon or contact external divine creatures? I’m thinking here of things like Summon Celestial, Divine Intervention, Planar Ally, or Commune?

Exploring Eberron has a section on the Blood of Vol that addresses this. Here’s the relevant section…

If the power of the Blood of Vol flows from within, who answers when a cleric conjures a celestial or invokes planar ally? One simple answer is for the DM to use a being who has the statistics of a celestial or fiend, but that is formed from blood and magic; it’s a manifestation of your own divine essence and fades away when its work is done. This might seem a strange match for planar ally, a spell that normally requires payment to an external force, but even an ally of your own essence might demand a service in return. This could be seen as a request from your subconscious—a demand that you do something you know you should do, but that you’ve been trying to ignore. On the other hand, it could be a mysterious task with no discernible purpose; this ties to the fact that your Divinity Within is something beyond mere mortal understanding, and you don’t fully understand what it needs or wants.

Another possibility is that you’re drawing on the Seeker community rather than reaching to the planes for assistance. One principle of the faith is that champions become undead so that they can help other Seekers. When you cast planar ally, rather than calling a celestial or fiend, you might summon an undead champion of your faith; this could be anything from a vampire to a mummy lord or a death knight. In this case, the payment they demand for their service would likely be a tithe to the Seeker temple they are bound to. On a smaller scale, your DM could similarly decide that when you cast conjure celestial, it summons a sarcastic flameskull instead of an angel.

This is another relevant section…

As a divine spellcaster who follows the Blood of Vol, you believe that your power comes from your own soul. As a paladin, you are calling on the power of your own blood when you heal your allies or smite your enemies. The visible manifestations of magic of the Blood of Vol typically involve crimson energy, as if luminous tendrils of blood are flowing from you. But it’s not simply your power. Consider the Seeker priest who casts commune; how can they gain information they don’t already know? The answer is that the divinity within is something far greater than you. It is a god, possessing celestial power you can’t understand or imagine—but it is still in its chrysalis, waiting to be born. When you cast your spell, you awaken a sliver of its power; once the spell is done, it returns to its rest.

How widespread is the acceptance of undead throughout Karrnath? I understand that most Karrns do not know their king is a vampire, and that there are undead laborers in the major cities at least. In Joe Flyspeck village, are undead laborers common as well, or are they rare, or out of vogue, or feared, distrusted, what? What is the perception of both thinking and unthinking undead throughout Karrnath?

Atur is q special case. Chapter 18 of Chronicles of Eberron covers Karrnathi Undead and addresses their wider role in more detail. Here’s a relevant quote…

The followers of the Blood of Vol—who prefer the term Seekers—are the ones who practice necromancy and embrace the undead. The Blood of Vol has had a presence in Karrnath for over a thousand years, but it has never been the faith of the majority. During the Last War, Kaius I embraced the Blood of Vol and it gained greater influence; during this time, the undead were incorporated into the Karrnathi army. In more recent years, Kaius III and the Regent Moranna turned against the Blood of Vol. The chivalric orders of the Seekers were disbanded, and Kaius has used the Seekers as a scapegoat—blaming the famines and plagues that crippled Karrnath on the Seekers.

So with Joe Flyspeck village, the question is whether the village is a community of Seekers or Vassals. If it’s a Seeker village, they will be using undead labor as they have been for centuries. If it’s a Vassal community, they wouldn’t know how to create undead even if they wished to — and most wouldn’t. The people of Karrnath are USED to undead. The Seekers have been using them for over a thousand years, and they were part of the armies of Karrnath for decades. So Karrns won’t flinch when they meet a skeleton soldier or an oathbound (mummy) monk, and many Karrns are simply ambivalent about undead. But there are some who feel that the use of undead and embrace of the Seeker faith was a betrayal of the traditional culture of Karrnath — as noted above, who use the use of undead as an excuse for Karrnath’s losses in the Last War. “If we’d relied on pure Karrnathi steel and skill, King Kaius would be ruling a new Galifar now.” Because of these attitudes, you DON’T see a lot of undead labor in the major cities. Those who associate with undead are generally assumed to be Seekers. But Karrns are USED to undead, and not surprised to find Karrnathi undead used in special cases.

Karrnath is described as using the Code of Kaius, which is based off of the Galifar code of Justice but with more extreme punishments and more specific and strict laws. What could this code look like? What are some examples of how the two compare and how they differ?

Sharn: City of Towers is the best source for information on the Code of Galifar, and talking about what constitutes a crime and how justice is enforced. The Code of Kaius uses the Galifar code as its foundation, but is a form of martial law. Under the Code of Galifar you are innocent until proven guilty, and if a crime is serious enough to go to court you may have a trial by jury. Neither is true under the Code of Kaius. Justice flows summarily from the warlord and their representatives, and there is no recourse or appeal. So what is considered a CRIME is generally the same, but punishments are harsher and often carried out on the spot. Meanwhile, crimes such as treason are interpreted more broadly in Karrnath; there’s no right to free speech, for example. That’s the basic concept; hopefully you can extrapolate from there.

Given how the most famous historical figures are often mythologized and become key facets of their cultures, how do historical figures factor into Thelanis? Is there a Dread Conquerer riding about, endlessly seeking to expand his domain?

So if you’re talking about WARRIORS, the answer you are looking for may lie in SHAVARATH. Consider this section from Exploring Eberron.

All mortal creatures have a spiritual connection to Shavarath, and there’s a sliver of their spirit in the plane. The strength of this sliver is determined by the mortal’s courage, willpower, and martial drive… Sometimes, on the death of a great mortal warrior, echoes of their personality and martial spirit can coalesce into a sword wraith (though its abilities may vary based on the champion it echoes). Unlike standard conscripts, sword wraiths are capable of meaningful action even without the direction of an immortal and can command conscripts of their own. A sword wraith has the appearance of its mortal source and some of the memories, but it’s only an echo of the mortal, much like the traces of memory that allow you to speak with dead. Sword wraiths reconcile their memories with the war within the layer. If there’s a sword wraith of Karrn the Conqueror commanding troops in Nullius Terram, he believes that he’s fighting for Karrnath and can’t be convinced otherwise; after all, he’s only a memory, and there are limits to his ability to reason.

So adventurers might meet a sword wraith of Lhazaar commanding a ship in the Bloody Sea. Dhakaani champions, the Mror clan founders, heroes of the Last War—any of these could be found as sword wraiths, serving the legion that best matches their values. There are sword wraiths of many patron ancestors of the Tairnadal elves; however, these aren’t the patrons themselves, simply echoes left behind. While sword wraiths generally form after a mortal’s death, the slivers of especially remarkable heroes can manifest sword wraiths even while alive. King Boranel of Breland surely has a sword wraith serving in the Legion of Justice, and it’s possible an adventurer could meet their own sword wraith while exploring Shavarath.


Meanwhile, Thelanis isn’t affected by HISTORY or real events. Consider this from Exploring Eberron:

Breland tells tales of the Sleeping Prince, cursed to slumber by a cruel hag until he’s saved by the courage of the Woodcutter’s Daughter. In the Mror Holds, there’s a tale older than Breland itself, in which Lady Narathun curses Doldarun’s son with eternal sleep, until he’s saved by humble Toldorath. And the Dhakaani dar have an ancient story about how Hezhaal—a dirge singer who betrayed the empire and studied sinister magic—cast the marhu’s son into a cursed slumber, until he was saved by a simple golin’dar.

The stories of Thelanis don’t exist BECAUSE of events in the material plane; instead, events on the material plane are sometimes drawn to reflect Thelanian stories. So there may well BE a Dread Conqueror in Thelanis. But if so, there’s ALWAYS been a Dread Conqueror in Thelanis, and scholars will say “Ah, you can see how in Karrnathi folk tales Karrn the Conqueror assumed the role of the Dread Conqueror; but you can find a similar version of these stories in Nulakhesh, based around the deeds of the Iron Emperor.“

Amaranthine City Question: If Genghis Khan was an immortal spirit would he be a Irian Celestial or a Mabaran Yugoloth? The man began a huge empire, but he also ended several others.

Part of what you’re running into is the fact that mortals are more complex than immortals. Mortals have shades and dimensions. Immortals embody specific iconic concepts. So with a figure like Genghis Khan, there’s three distinct ideas you could explore which would all be different immortals.

  • In IRIAN you would find the VICTORIOUS EMPEROR—the leader who is uniting people and forging something new, who is riding the glory of his triumphs, who is celebrated by his people and feared by his enemies.
  • In SHAVARATH you could find the WARRIOR KING. Because neither Irian or Mabar is about WAR. If you’re looking for an immortal who embodies the idea of brutal military conquest, that’s an immortal in the Legion of Tyranny.
  • In MABAR you would find the EMPEROR IN DARKNESS, whose strength is fading, whose empire is rotting from within, weakened by corruption and torn by insurrection, the king who still sits on his throne but who knows his days of glory are behind him.

… the further point here is that the story won’t change, because what you’re dealing with isn’t REAL, it’s SYMBOLIC. Mabar is about despair and decay. Irian is about hope and growth. The Victorious Emperor in Irian will ALWAYS be enjoying the rise of his empire, while the Emperor in Darkness will always be sullenly watching it collapse. Meanwhile, yes, the fact that the the triumph of the Victorious Emperor means that other people have been subjugated isn’t the focus of the story in Irian; an immortal in Irian embodies hope and triumph. If you want to see brutal conquest, you need to go to Shavarath. And again, this is what makes the material plane special and what makes mortals special—they can be many things at once. Their stories can evolve and change. They can create hope and despair through the same action. Most immortals are inherently more two-dimensional, because they are symbols, not people. And keep in mind that the mortal Genghis Khan would cast a shadow in Mabar, a sword wraith in Shavarath, an ember in Irian—because he touches them all. As a side note, the idea of the empire-in-decline is one story you could tell about Genghis in Mabar. Another would be the Collapsing Empire—the story of the empire being CONQUERED by Genghis, facing an implacable enemy and knowing the end is near. Again, if the story was about the ACTUAL BATTLE it would be in Shavarath; but if the story is about the DESPAIR and terror of the people forever awaiting the arrival of the Horde, endlessly preparing but knowing no preparations will be sufficient… that’s Mabar.

That’s all for now! Thanks again to my patrons for posing these and many other questions, and for making these articles possible. If you have questions of your own—or if you’d like to play in my ongoing Eberron campaign—check out my Patreon!

IFAQ: Dullahans in Eberron

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It’s been a busy month and I haven’t had a lot of time to write, in part because I’ve been making games like Cool Cool Cool, currently in its final day on Kickstarter! However, every month I answer questions from my patrons on Patreon, and I wanted to address two of those at once!

Are there any unique undead to specific cultures, or undead that show up in certain species more than others? How do dullahans fit into Eberron?

Rather than creating entirely unique undead, I tend to add regional flavor to existing creatures. Consider the ruins of Shadukar, a Thrane city set ablaze by Karrnath during the Last War, abandoned ever since due to the infestation of restless dead. Shadukar remains under an eternal haze of smoke and ash that refuses to disperse. Those who’ve entered the ruins and survive talk of smoke ghosts, moaning figures formed from soot and the scent of burnt flesh who seek to draw the heat from living creatures… and the charred, blackened bones still cloaked in a faint, smoky outline of the flesh they once wore. The practical fact is that these are just shadows and skeletons, though I add the details that smoke ghosts aren’t resistant to fire; their fiery demise is still seared into their memory, and a torch is a good way to drive off these lingering dead.

In dealing with undead, the first question I want to answer is why does this creature exist? There’s two basic paths here—Spontaneous undead and Intentional undead.

Intentional Undead are created by a sentient entity, whether that’s mortal necromancers or immortal beings. Lady Illmarrow, Katashka the Gatekeeper, the Bone King of Mabar, the long-dead Qabalrin elves of Xen’drik. Sentient undead are created for a purpose, and you should get a sense of that—the signature of the creator. Notably, Katahska the Gatekeeper delights in mortal FEAR of death and the undead, so its creations are intentionally grotesque and designed to provoke terror; while the Qabalrin sought solely to overcome death through undead. Thus, Qabalrin vampires are elegant and subtle, draining blood with delicate fangs that leave barely-visible wounds… while a vampire of Katahska uses a writhing wormlike proboscis that leaves hideous wounds, and the feeding is horrifying for both victim and observers. The Katashka vampire is supposed to provoke terror; that’s part of its purpose.

Spontaneous Undead are generally created due to an intersection of planar energies and emotion. Mabaran undead are driven to consume life force in some form (whether as blood, raw energy, or something else); they are typically hungry. Dolurrhi undead are the more traditional restless dead driven by unfinished business or an emotional anchor, something I discussed in more depth earlier this month with haunts. Mabaran undead are often monstrous, as they are hungry manifestations of entropy and despair, while Dolurrhi undead will usually display some hint of their anchors in their appearance.

So with this in mind, let’s consider the dullahan—the headless horseman. In standard 5E lore, dullahans are “the remains of villains who let vengeance consume them… Wicked knights or commanders in life, dullahans adhere to twisted codes of chivalry or soldiership.” By default, the dullahan is an easy candidate for spontaneous Dolurrhi undead. As I called out in the haunts article, battlefields where terrible tragedies occurred are often haunted; I’d say that the dullahan normally lingers in the Ethereal Veil of the battlefield where it dies, unable to cross by choice, but drawn into the world at certain times to search for its lost head. Such a dullahan could come from any culture; a Brelish commander whose head was destroyed by an arcane blast, a Dhakaani hobgoblin whose head was vaporized by a beholder, a Talenta raptor-rider whose head was stolen by a rival. Part of the idea of the spontaneous dullahan is that it can be laid to rest—you can fight it, sure, but you could also possibly resolve the situation by finding their head or by somehow offering them peace.

That’s one option. I could imagine a servant of Katashka the Gatekeeper stealing the head of a deceased hero and using it in a ritual that raises the former champion as a tormented dullahan, forced to so terror in the community it once loved until it is restored to its head; so again, the adventurers might be forced to fight the dullahan, but unless they can find its head and lay it to rest, it will always return. As noted above, with a Katashka dullahan I’d emphasize the horror—graveworms writhing in its exposed flesh, chunks of is body sloughing away as it takes damage, the sense that the dullahan is in agony even as it is forced to fight.

Another way to use an intentional dullahan would be to reverse the formula and make it a voluntary transformation: rather than seeking its lost head, the dullahan’s head could be like the phylactery of a lich. Returning to the Talenta Plains, consider the story of Headless Haralara…

When Haralara was astride her clawfoot Scythe, none could match them for speed or skill. Together they were faster than any fastieth and as silent as nightfall. Long ago, there was a night of six moons and a swordtooth titan was seen on the planes. The maskweavers called a great hunt, and said that the first hunter to draw the blood of the beast would be blessed. All knew this would surely be Haralara—and so the other hunters forged a pact, to hunt together not for the titan, but to take Haralara’s head. These were the finest hunters in the Plains save for Haralara herself. United, none could stand against them; when Haralara heard of this, she knew she was doomed. But Haralara was clever. They couldn’t take her head if they couldn’t find it; so she hide it where it would never be found, and then, riding Scythe, Headless Haralara hunted down each and every one of her enemies and took their heads. She rode with them into the night lands, where she haunts and hunts to this day; woe to the hunter who draws the absent eye of Headless Haralara.

In this case, Haralara knows where her head is… and as long as it’s hidden, she can’t be permanently destroyed. If she takes an interest in a group of adventurers—Because a halfling adventurer is the descendant of one of her old enemies? Because the adventurers killed a beast she was hunting?—they can defeat her temporarily in combat, but the only way to permanently escape her wrath is to figure out where she hid her head so long ago!

I’ll note that these thoughts on the dullahan are based on the fifth edition interpretation of the creature, which is largely inspired by “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.” Really, this creature should just be call a headless horseman; the dullahan is drawn from Irish folklore and has a far deeper and more significant role there than “ghost searching for its head.” I actually created statistics for this fey psychopomp in a book I wrote for 3.5 called Classic Fey. But for purposes of this article, I’m focusing on the creature as presented in fifth edition.

That’s all for now! I won’t be answering questions, but as a bonus for patrons, I’m posting four ghoul variants on Patreon! Happy Halloween!

IFAQ: September Lightning Round!

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As time permits, I like to answer interesting questions posed by my Patreon supporters. Here’s a few of the questions that came up this month!

In our world, some fairy tales heroes deal with/encounter undead: Ghosts, wraiths, skeletons, headless horsemen, etc. On the material plane, the hero would encounter them in manifest zones to Dolurrh or Mabar, but how would that story be told in Thelanis? Are there any fey in Thelanis that have to do with undead or necromancy?

First of all, you can find almost anything in Thelanis if it fits a story archetype. There’s a barony in Thelanis with a massive dragon in it, and a barony filled with ghosts. But the key point is that those ghosts were never living mortals, and that dragon likewise isn’t mortal (it’s an archfey!) and has no connection to Argonnessen or the dragons of Eberron. If a ghost story is about a ghost that lingers because of unfinished business, it’s likely tied to Dolurrh. If it’s about an aggressive undead being who consumes life or hope, it’s likely tied to Mabar. If it’s more about the abstract idea—a story that can be found repeated in many cultures, that’s more about the allegory than the specific actions of a historical undead creature—then it could be tied to Thelanis. You can have devils in Fernia, Shavarath, and Daanvi, but they’re very different from one another; likewise, you can have ghosts in Mabar, Dolurrh, or Thelanis, but they’re very different from one another. Thelanian undead aren’t actually the remnants of mortals; they’re the IDEA of remnants of mortals. It’s up to the DM to decide whether these creatures should even be considered to be undead for purposes of magical effects, or if they are in fact fey. personally, I’d probably be inclined to make Thelanian ghosts both undead AND fey; they ARE fey, but they react like you’d expect undead to react, because that’s the story.

Who is Lady Dusk of the Crimson Covenant?

The article on the Crimson Covenant notes that members of the Covenant “guide and protect other Seekers. The Crimson Covenant are the oldest and most powerful of these undead champions, some of whom were guiding the Seekers before Erandis Vol even knew the faith existed. ” It’s also long been noted that Seeker communities donate blood which is kept in barrels of preserving pine to sustain vampire champions. This practice began with Lady Dusk, believed by some to be the first human vampire in Khorvaire. Given her age and the secrecy with which she shrouds herself, few facts are known about her. The most common of these is that she was the daughter of a warlord in the first days of Karrnath; recent scholarly work suggests that she was a member of the House of the Ram, one of the warlord dynasties that would eventually merge into House Deneith. When elf refugees came west fleeing the destruction of the Line of Vol, the lady gave them shelter and fell in love with one of these refugees. When her family decided to exterminate these elves, Lady Dusk fought alongside them. She was executed by her family… but, according to the story, her lover had already shared her blood and Dusk rose as a child of the night.

Ever since then, Lady Dusk has followed the path of the undead champion—acting to guide and protect the Seekers of the Divinity Within. She’s the model of an undead champion of the faith and the reason communities began storing reserves of blood. With that said, this is dangerous work; over the centuries, most of her peers—including her lover—have been destroyed, and Dusk herself has narrowly escaped many times. As such she rarely acts openly; she disguises herself and works from the shadows. If something is threatening a Seeker community, she won’t just charge in with fangs bared; she will try to organize mortal resistance. It’s the idea of teaching someone to fish instead of fishing for them; Lady Dusk is a GUIDE, and those she assists may never know who their mentor was.

What do the Carrion Tribes of the Demon Wastes eat to survive? Do they make use of Shadow Demiplanes for resources in the same way as the Ghaash’kala?

There’s flora and fauna in the Demon Wastes, it’s just highly aggressive and often poisonous or infused with fiendish power. Over many generations the Carrion Tribes have developed resistances to these natural and supernatural toxins, and they can eat things travelers can’t safely eat—though in part because of this diet, members of the Carrion Tribes have a very low life expectancy and their numbers remain relatively low. The Carrion Tribes aren’t as disciplined or well equipped as the Ghaash’kala and also rarely retain institutional knowledge; for all of these reasons, they don’t harness demiplanes as effectively as the Ghaash’kala. Essentially, there’s lots of things you can eat in the Demon Wastes, if you don’t mind hosting infernal parasites, shortening your lifespan and suffering hallucinations and severe mood swings; for the Carrion Tribes, that’s just a typical Tuesday.

How do you imagine the curriculum at Arcanix to be? Is the goal of classes specifically to teach how to cast spells in a practical manner, in which case I’d imagine most courses don’t go beyond the Third Circle, or are there classes in which the theory of higher level magic is studied even if the spell can’t be cast by the students? Accompanying this, I’m curious if there’s a presence by Wizard Circles in Arcanix similar to companies at universities trying to recruit talent near graduation.

The Strixhaven book coming out in a month is sure to have lots of suggestions about this topic, so I’m somewhat loathe to discuss it now. But first of all, arcane magic is a form of science, so to begin with, consider how any form of science is taught. You’re going to have base entry-level classes that teach the principles of Arcana along with the basics of arcane science and history. These will advance into practical magic, from there into study of specific schools of magic, from there into specialized topics within that field. Most students of Arcanix don’t become wizards, and there are some who can cast perform ritual magic that’s beyond the Third Circle, just more limited than what a wizard can do; so yes, there are definitely classes dealing with magical THEORY that goes beyond the practical limits of 3rd level spells. Keep in mind that Arcanix is always driving students to push beyond the limits of what’s currently possible; Third Circle may be the practical limit of everyday magic TODAY, but the students of Arcanix intend to change that.

Many of the students of Arcanix will never cast spells as a wizard or sorcerer does. However, Aundair has the highest percentage of wandslingers and war wizards in the Five Nations. Thus you have the War College within Arcanix, which focuses on practical battlefield magic. It’s here that you will get direct training in combat cantrips, arcane sparring, drills to hone concentration, and so on, along with classes in tactics and strategy.

Meanwhile, wizard circles aren’t COMPANIES. The equivalent to companies would be the dragonmarked houses or the Arcane Congress, both of which do send recruiters to Arcanix. But wizard circles are essentially fraternities; they don’t simply have recruiters at Arcanix, they have CHAPTERS at Arcanix.

How do the magic tattoos from Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything fit into Eberron?

Like all magic items, magical tattoos are a set of mechanics, which can be flavored very differently based on the story and cosmetic elements associated with them. There’s no single form of magic tattoo or single culture associated with them; instead, there are a number of different forms of magical tattooing. Sigilry is the field of arcane science that is used to create scrolls, and master sigilists can create magical tattoos infused with arcane power. On Khorvaire, the Mark of Scribing has given Sivis the edge in creating magical tattoos, but Thuranni and Phiarlan also have a limited tradition of arcane tattoos. But magical tattoos can also be created using divine magic—such as the couatl tattoos of the Ghaash’kala, which I mentioned in a recent article. Such tattoos are in part empowered by the faith of the bearer and can usually only be attuned by a person who shares the faith of the creator. There’s also a primal tradition of tattooing, employed by the shifters of the Towering Wood; Races of Eberron discusses these tattoos, which shift in appearance when the bearer activates their shifting trait. So it’s the same way that many different cultures use wands, but the design of the wand and the powers channeled will vary based on the culture and their magical tradition.

What do the Valaes Tairn do when they aren’t fighting? Would there be a reason for a group of warriors to be in Sharn besides looking for an artifact of some kind?

What they do when not fighting depends on their patron ancestor. Tairnadal seek to emulate their patrons at all times, not just in battle; so what was their patrons known for? Were they explorers? Entertainers? Arcane researchers? With that said, as long as it doesn’t directly oppose what their patrons would do, Tairnadal can also pursue their own interests when there’s no clearly mandated path. So a group of Tairnadal in Sharn could be looking for work; they could be tourists passing the time between mercenary assignments; they could be pursuing a rogue Tairnadal who betrayed their warband; they could be following the example of their patron. There were grand cities in Xen’drik at the time of the elven rebellion; perhaps their patron was known for protecting the innocent in the shadows of the greatest city of the age. The Tairnadal have identified Sharn as the closest equivalent and are fighting crime in Lower Dura!

That’s all for now! If you have an infrequently asked question, I’ll be taking another round soon on my Patreon!

IFAQ: The Crimson Covenant

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My last IFAQ dealt with the role of mummies in the Blood of Vol. This ties into another question that’s equally relevant to the season: How would you use the Crimson Covenant in your Eberron?

Information about the Blood of Vol is wildly inconsistent across canon material. You can find some of my thoughts on this in this article. My vision of the Blood of Vol is articulated in Exploring Eberron. In short, the Blood of Vol was created in Eberron, when exiled elves fleeing the destruction of the line of Vol settled among humans and dwarves living in a harsh land, long oppressed by tyrants who used the Sovereign Host to justify their rule. The elves shared a tale of a champion who attained divine power only to be crushed by the existing gods, and the humans recast that to fit their reality. In their story, Vol isn’t an elf with a dragonmark who fights the Undying Court, but rather is a human who finds a spark of divinity within and fights the Sovereign Host. The NAME is there and the bones of the story can be seen, but the truth that iinspired it is long forgotten. The elves shared some of their necromantic traditions with the humans, and that aspect of the faith has its roots in Aerenal. But it was only in the synthesis of the cultures and traditions that the faithful actually found the Divinity Within. The Aereni line of Vol were NECROMANCERS; they never harnessed this power.

So: the Blood of Vol was is something entirely unique to Khorvaire, something formed by the blending of Vassal heretics and exiled elves. When this religion was taking root, Erandis Vol was hiding from the Undying Court and building her strength; it was many centuries before she would stumble across the faith that carried her family’s name. She sees the Blood of Vol as a useful tool and is happy to manipulate them, and the result of this is the Order of the Emerald Claw. But she didn’t create their faith and she doesn’t share it. She aspires to be a goddess, but it is her apex dragonmark that is her path to divine power, not some universal Divinity Within.

The Blood of Vol has always been a religious of the downtrodden, of those who believe that the gods are cruel and the universe is unforgiving. Its strongholds lie in Mabaran manifest zones, shunned lands no one else could tame. As discussed in Exploring Eberron, the structure of the faith is far looser than that of the Church of the Silver Flame. Some priests are trained in one of the great temples such, such as the Crimson Monastery of Atur; others have never met a priest from beyond their village, and learned the faith from their local abactor. So, what then is the Crimson Covenant?

The basic principle of the Blood of Vol is that every mortal holds a spark of divinity within their blood, and the goal is to unlock that Divinity Within. But few can accomplish that in their lifetime, and death is oblivion. Some champions of the faith become undead—typically vampires and oathbound mummies—to live beyond what their mortal span would allow. This is a form of martydom; an undead creature has no spark of life, and loses the Divinity Within. But they gain time, and can guide and protect other Seekers. The Crimson Covenant are the oldest and most powerful of these undead champions, some of whom were guiding the Seekers before Erandis Vol even knew the faith existed.

Among most of the faithful the Crimson Covenant is little more than a legend; most seekers believe that Hass Malevanor, High Priest of Atur, is the greatest spiritual leader of the faith. There is good reason for this secrecy. First and foremost, there are many—the Aereni Deathguard, templars of the Silver Flame, paladins of Dol Arrah, and other champions of the light—who would see these elders as monsters to be destroyed. But there is another aspect: all undead aren’t created equal. We think of things in terms of stat blocks and rules, under which a lich is a lich is a lich. But the necromancy of the early Seekers was adapted from Aereni techniques; it was never as sophisticated as the techniques used by the Bloodsails or the Line of Vol, and has its own quirks. The most ancient member of the Crimson Covenant, Duran, was its first lich; but while his will is strong, his enchantments are unable to maintain his body and he exists now as a demilich. Most of the members of the Crimson Covenant are oathbound, and many of their oaths are quite restrictive. Beyond this, many members have had their humanity slowly worn away by the passage of time, and they know it; it is difficult for them to interact directly with the living. With this in mind, Malevanor ISN’T a member of the Crimson Covenant; he is still young, still comfortable with the world. But he and other priests protect the Covenant and rely upon it for guidance, and the Covenant does perform the most sacred rituals of the faith. The core of the Covenant resides in the catacombs below Atur, and it is their devotions that contain and channel the dreadful powers of this sunless land.

So for the most part the Crimson Covenant are masterminds and advisors. They can cast spells and perform rituals that are far beyond Malevanor’s powers—but only a few of them are actually capable of freely moving within the world. As such, they generally support the faith by creating magic items, raising undead (they were certainly an important part of raising the first armies for Karrnath), and casting divinations and other rituals. They teach the most promising students in the Crimson Monastery. But there are only a few—such as the Silent Knight and Lady Dusk—who often act in the outer world. There have been others—there were a few members of the Crimson Covenant who rose from their chamber to lead Seekers in the Last War—but they have been destroyed.

So, to go back to the original question, How would I use the Crimson Covenant in my Eberron? I would use it as something the adventurers hear of in whispers. Seekers may receive guidance from the Crimson Covenant; I might even choose to say that when a Seeker priest casts commune, it’s the Covenant that answers. Its possible they won’t even believe it exists until one of these ancient champions actually DOES appear to assist a group of seekers… or alternately, until one of them is discovered and destroyed, and the Mabaran manifest zone they were containing becomes a threat. Beyond that, it would depend on the relationship between the adventurers and the Seekers. If the adventurers are fighting the Emerald Claw, I’d probably start by having them believe that the mysterious Crimson Covenant is their enemy, perhaps the true leaders of the Emerald Claw. But eventually they would finally meet the Covenant, and if they walked the proper path it could be a powerful ally in the question to put an end to the threat posed by the Claw. With that said…

What’s the relationship between Lady Illmarrow and the Crimson Covenant?

Originally, none. The Crimson Covenant are elder Seekers, many of whom have served the faith for longer than Illmarrow has been aware of it. However, Lady Illmarrow is a mastermind, and over the course of centuries some of her handpicked agents have risen to join the Crimson Covenant. It is through these agents that Illmarrow knows the plans of the abactors and influences the faith to her own ends. It is Illmarrow’s agents who have prevented the Covenant from taking any action against the Emerald Claw, convincing the others that they must wait and see, and that perhaps Illmarrow is acting as a champion of the faith. Some of those councilors slain in the Last War were victims of schemes laid by their fellow councilors, because they posed a threat to Illmarrow’s plans. So the point is that Lady Illmarrow doesn’t control the Crimson Covenant… But she is influencing it, and in many ways slowly poisoning it to help with her agenda. So again, if I were running a campaign in which the adventurers were fighting Illmarrow and the Emerald Claw, an important piece of the endgame would be identifying and destroying her agents in the Crimson Covenant, at which point its surviving members could be valuable allies.

Likewise, I could certainly see a member of the Crimson Covenant who is suspicious of Illmarrow’s influence but unable to act openly serving as a patron for a group of adventurers—potentially using the Immortal Being group patron, or serving as an Undying patron for a warlock or a personal spiritual guide for a Seeker paladin or cleric. Such a patron could direct adventurers to operations of the Emerald Claw or to expose other agents of Illmarrow within the faith.

What’s the relationship between the Blood of Vol and the Bloodsail Principality? Also, the article “Dolurrh’s Dawn” has an individual named Ashalyn Vol who’s said to have created some of the core principles of the Blood of Vol. How’s that work with this interpretation?

Well, I DID say canon was inconsistent! Having said that, let’s take a look at what the canon Bloodsail article says.

The religion known as the Blood of Vol is a bastardized version of the beliefs of the elves of Farlnen, and it has grown and changed over the centuries. Bloodsail priests are far more pragmatic than are their Karrnathi counterparts. They shape their divine spells from the raw energy of Mabar, and whereas the Seekers of Atur try to unlock the immortal potential of the Divinity Within, the priests of Port Cairn are content with the simpler immortality of undeath. Nonetheless, the two faiths share some common practices, and followers of the Blood are treated with respect in Farlnen.

The bolded element is the key. After the line of Vol was eradicated in Aerenal, the Undying Court allowed elves allied to the line but who didn’t carry its blood to either swear fealty to the Court or to accept exile. Some of these went directly north to Farlnen and became the Bloodsails. Others landed in Lhazaar and migrated west, mingling with humans and dwarves. The Blood of Vol arose from that mingling of traditions, and the Divinity Within was a discovery of this new faith. So Ashalyn Vol WAS a cleric and did set the first cornerstones of the faith. But those cornerstones were about channeling the power of Mabar, not about finding the Divinity Within. The idea of fighting against death was there, but how you do it is very different. The Seekers see undeath as a sacrifice; the Bloodsails see it as entirely satisfactory and don’t believe in a divine inner spark; they don’t believe the oathbound gives anything up by becoming undead, and their divine magic isn’t drawn from the same source as that of a Seeker priest. So as noted, the Bloodsails RESPECT the Seekers and recognize their common roots; but they also think the Seekers are, well, crazy humans with bizarre conspiracy theories. “The Sovereigns cursed people with mortality, so they couldn’t become gods themselves” — that’s just a ridiculous idea!

Part of the point of this is to challenge the concepts of Elven Exceptionalism and that Things Were Always Better In The Old Days. I like the idea that the blending of elf and human beliefs and ideas created something new—that this fusion allowed them to DISCOVER the Divinity Within, which is a real divine power source that the line of Vol never knew about or harnessed. To me this is more compelling than saying “Oh, an elf discovered it five thousand years ago – we’re just following in their footsteps and we’ve never really made any sort of improvements.” The Bloodsails ARE just following in Ashalyn’s footsteps, because that’s what elves do; they cling to the traditions of their ancestors. But the Blood of Vol did something NEW. And part of MY idea is that they are continually improving their techniques—that Duran the demilich is a demilich because their original lich technique was flawed and that they’ve gotten better at it — that the techniques used to produce Malevanor were superior to the oathbound rituals they used centuries ago.

What’s the relationship between the Crimson Covenant and Kaius III? How does the Covenant feel about Lady Illmarrow and the Emerald Claw?

In thinking about the Crimson Covenant, it might be helpful to look at the US Supreme Court. It’s a small body of people who are experts at what they do (we hope) but who have differing opinions and who were appointed in very different times. It’s a lifetime position, and in this case, when we say lifetime, we mean eternity—or until you get taken down by a paladin of Dol Arrah. There are members of the Crimson Covenant who are older than Galifar, and at least one who’s older than Karrnath. For these people, the events of the last ten years—the Order of the Emerald Claw, Kaius III—are a tiny drop in the bucket of time. It’s only been a decade; let’s see how it plays out in another decade.

You definitely have factions in the Covenant. There are those who argue that the Covenant should be focused on teaching the living—that it’s not its place to intervene directly. There are those who say that they should be trying to find a way to destroy the Sovereigns directly, those who say they should undermine the institutions that encourage worship of the Sovereigns, and those that say that all this discussion of the Sovereigns is ridiculous, because they don’t exist. There are those who believe Lady Illmarrow poses a threat to the faith, and those who argue that she’s a champion and that the Covenant should be supporting her—along with those who say “Let’s see what happens in the next ten years.”

So there are definitely enough members on the Covenant who support Illmarrow or at least want to wait and see to keep the Covenant as a whole from acting against her. But there’s certainly members of the Covenant who ARE worried about Illmarrow and the Emerald Claw. Such a member might well be secretly working with Kaius III, and might very well work as a patron for an adventurer or a party of adventurers. They can’t convince the majority of the Covenant to take action, but they do believe that something should be done.

What stops the Crimson Covenant from using some preexisting D&D 5e methods of achieving effective immortality, such as the Reincarnate and Clone spells?

Part of the idea of Eberron has always been to consider magic as a tool and a science—which means that we add limitations to it that aren’t necessarily obvious from the rules. If you’re making a character you can be a druid, just like that. But in the WORLD, druidic magic comes from ancient traditions. A random person in Sharn can’t just say “I’m going to be a druid” and start casting thorn whip; they need to LEARN these traditions from someone else. There is no established druidic tradition in Karrnath, therefore, the Crimson Covenant has no druids and no idea how to cast reincarnate. On the other side, clone is an 8th level spell, which is far outside the common power level of the Five Nations—which is normally 1st-3rd level spells are common tools, 4th-5th are attainable but rare. On that scale, clone is the stuff of legends. Even if we assume that there are a few members of the Crimson Covenant who have gained the power to cast 8th level spells, the next point of considering arcane magic as a science is that just because there’s rules for a spell doesn’t mean that every culture has developed every spell. This is something we called out in earlier editions with the idea of limiting certain rituals to character with dragonmarks. As a PLAYER CHARACTER, your wizard can learn any spell on the wizard spell list. And in my Eberron you can be sure that Mordain the Fleshweaver has discovered clone. But beyond that, it’s up to the DM to decide what spells are available to NPCs. If you want to have a member of the Covenant who uses clone as a path to immortality, tell that story! But in my campaign, no one in the Covenant has discovered how to cast that spell.

Ultimately, remember—the rules are a tool for the DM to use to tell a story. It’s always up to us to decide which elements we want to use and which we choose to ignore. I prefer to think of each wizard spell as a scientific discovery, and to consider that different traditions—the Twelve, Arcanix, Aerenal, the dragons—may know spells that the others haven’t yet mastered. Again, player characters can choose any spell—but that’s part of what makes them remarkable.

That’s all for now! My next major article (as chosen by my Patreon supporters) will deal with Ghost Stories of Eberron. And tomorrow I’ll have a few announcements about other things I’m working on!

iFAQ: Warforged, Blood, and the Blood of Vol

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People ask me a lot of questions about Eberron. While I’ve typically answered the most frequently asked questions at sometime in the past, every now and then there’s an INFREQUENTLY asked question that still seems like it’s worth answering. Over the last few weeks two of those have come my way. How could a warforged become a cleric of the Blood of Vol? And can a warforged become a vampire?

Could a Warforged Become a Cleric of the Blood of Vol?

The Blood of Vol is based on the principle that the blood of the living holds a spark of divine power, and that all mortals have the potential to harness and evolve that Divinity Within. A Seeker cleric believes they are drawing on their own divine spark when they cast spells.

Warforged don’t have blood. Therefore, it seems logical to assume that they don’t have the spark of the Divinity Within. So why would they follow the Blood of Vol, and how could a warforged Seeker paladin or cleric justify their divine magic?

To begin with, let’s start with the WHY. Ultimately, the Blood of Vol faith is grounded in the question what just god would allow death and suffering, with the conclusion none; the fact that we suffer shows that if there are gods, they are cruel. All we have is each other, and we must stand together and defy death. The Seekers place a strong emphasis on community and protecting the weak. Any death is tragic. They use undead because once the spark is gone, there’s no reason NOT to use the corpse if it can help protect the living. More powerful undead—vampires, mummies—know that they will never achieve divinity, as they lost their divine spark when they died; but they can still fight to defend and to guide the living, to be champions of life… and perhaps someday topple the Sovereigns themselves and free the entire world from the curse of mortality. This is where the warforged Seeker comes in. They have no blood, and presumably no divine spark. But they are immune to disease and to the ravages of time. A warforged is in many ways much like a mummy. They can’t achieve true divinity, but they can protect and guide others. So the warforged Seeker priest isn’t driven by a desire for personal power; rather, they are driven by compassion and the desire to protect their community from suffering and death.

But what about the HOW? If Seeker clerics draw their power from their own blood, how do they get magic? Well, first of all, remember that the “drawing power from within” is an article of faith. They don’t KNOW the power comes from within with any more absolute certainty than a paladin of Dol Arrah knows that their power comes from Dol Arrah. So one option is to simply say “It works, don’t question it.” But the other example is to look to the mummy. Malevanor, the high priest of the Blood of Vol in Atur, is a mummy. He has no blood. So how does he cast spells? There’s two simple answers. The first is the idea that he draws on the divinity of the people around him. This ties to the strong community focus of the Blood of Vol; he can’t attain personal divinity, but he can draw on that potential within you and use that power to protect or heal you. With that said, what happens if you’re not around? Well, Seeker communities donate blood to sustain their champions. Vampires drink this blood, and while it is within them this connects them to the sparks of the living. Seeker mummies and liches BATHE in the blood of the faithful, and this charges their power for a short time.

So for your warforged cleric, the simplest answer is that they draw their power from the rest of the party! If you want to be creepy about it and the rest of the characters are willing, they could actually get blood donations from the party. But you could also just say that the proximity spark does the trick. On the other hand, you could also just say that they don’t KNOW how it works, but it does work… and that they BELIEVE it’s because they (and presumably all other warforged) have divinity within as well, despite having no blood. This would certainly be an interesting long term arc to explore!

Having said all that, back around 2005 I worked with David Esbri—who was at the time doing illustrations for the RPGA—on an early concept for an Eberron comic. One of the villains in that was a Warforged tied to the Emerald Claw who had embedded components allowing it to drain blood from its victims… essentially, an artificial vampire who believed that he could use this blood to become divine. So you could always explore a more exotic path!

Can Warforged Become Vampires?

There’s many answers to this question. The simple answer is that under the rules of 3.5 they couldn’t; “vampire” was a template that couldn’t be applied to constructs, and 3.5 warforged were constructs. The 5E rules have changed, however, and by the rules as written a warforged can become a vampire. However, the rules are guidelines, not absolute and inflexible! In my opinion, this is a case where the DM has to decide what they want from the STORY. Does it make SENSE for a warforged to be able to become a vampire, when it has no blood and doesn’t eat in the first place?

In my campaign, I would say that no, a warforged cannot become a vampire. A vampire can drain the LIFE FORCE from a warforged, but it has no blood for a vampire to drink. Vampire spawn rise when “buried in the soil”—I don’t see this having much meaning for a warforged. I DO think that warforged can become undead—that they can become vessels for the power of Mabar, channels through which it can consume the essence of the living—but I would be inclined to create a unique warforged expression of vampirism, rather than just forcing the standard bloodthirsty form onto them. I’d see it as draining energy like a wight as opposed to drinking blood, and I’d consider which of the traditional vampire powers made sense and what it might have instead.

That’s all I have time for today! Have you used warforged seekers or undead in your campaign?

Dragonmarks: The City of Silver and Bone

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The fourth edition of Dungeons & Dragons introduced the concept of the Feyspires: cities that drift between the Faerie Court of Thelanis and the material world. Legends say that the giants of Xen’drik pillaged one of these mystical cities, stealing its treasures and taking its people as slaves. According to these tales, the elves of Eberron are descended from these fallen fey. And it’s said that the ruins of the citadel remain somewhere in the wilds of Xen’drik. But these events occurred many tens of thousands of years ago, and the elves themselves know nothing about their distant ancestors. All that we know is the name of the fallen feyspire: Shae Tirias Tolai, the City of Silver and Bone.

So: the ruins of an ancient mystical city are lost in Xen’drik. But what will explorers find if they discover this shattered feyspire? What WAS the City of Silver and Bone? As with anything in Eberron, the answer is ultimately up to you. But here’s one possibility… an option that sheds new light on a few of the mysteries of the elves.

Study the lore of ancient cultures, and you’ll find a recurring story of a city that stands on the edge of life and death. A shade is drawn to Dolurrh, but along the way it passes through a wondrous city of silver and bone, a city with tapestries of fine glamerweave and bone fountains filled with blood. The librarians of this final city record the tales of the ghosts, a last record before their memories are lost in Dolurrh. The artists work with creative shades, offering a last chance to complete unfinished works. And then there are the necromancers who make darker bargains, offering a chance to return to the world of the living… but at a terrible cost.

This was Shae Tirias Tolai: the city at the crossroads, the repository of final thoughts and the last chance for the fallen to find a way back to the world. And its existence answers a number of questions that have lingered for some time.

  • The Qabalrin. It’s said that the Qabalrin were an elven nation of mighty necromancers who were feared by the giants, and who pioneered many techniques of necromancy. Stories say that there are ancient Qablarin vampires hidden in deep crypts, mighty undead that have been slumbering for tens of thousands of years. But the question has always remained: where did these elves come from? How did they learn these grand secrets of necromancy, this magic that rivaled the giants? If the tales are true, the first Qabalrin were fugitive citizens of Shae Tirias Tolai, survivors who used their necromantic knowledge to found a new realm in the mortal world.
  • Elven Necromancy. Likewise, the distant tie to Tirias Tolai explains the elven penchant for necromancy, both positive and negative. The Aereni and the line of Vol know nothing about their ancient ancestors, but memories still linger in their blood… and this may explain how the elves came to form two of the most remarkable necromantic traditions in Eberron.

But… it’s said that the giants feared the Qabalrin. How could that be, if they defeated Shae Tirias Tolai? Well, the story is that the titans of old took Shae Tirias Tolai by surprise, using treachery and careful preparation to catch the people of this city unaware. Beyond that, the inhabitants of the City of Silver and Bone weren’t warlike by nature. They dealt peacefully with the shades; they never expected an attack and weren’t prepared for battle. The Qabalrin, on the other hand, turned all their knowledge and power into weapons. They also rooted themselves in the mortal world. The original inhabitants of the City of Silver and Bone WEREN’T arch-liches or vampires; they simply knew the secrets of creating such things. In destroying the Silver City, the giants forced the survivors down a dark path.

So what lies in the ruins of the City of Silver and Bone? The first thing to bear in mind is that it is at its heart an imaginary city. It is literally ripped out of a faerie tale, and its structures and elements don’t have to conform to any sort of natural logic. It was always a gothic citadel that blended beauty and luxury with morbid reminders of death. Its people have been taken and it has been bound to the material world, but in a strange sense the city itself is still alive. Its story has simply evolved to encompass its downfall. Envision every story of a haunted castle or mansion and project it here. It is a city that was built using bones as its base—bones of dragons, giants, and all manner of lesser creature. Bone blends with marble and silver, with pools of fresh blood (which by all logic should have coagulated tens of thousands of years ago). Imagine a place of gothic beauty, and now add the aftermath of a terrible battle. Glamerweave tapestries display the tales of forgotten heroes, but the cloth is torn and tattered. The sounds of battle can still be heard as echoes. The spirit of every giant that fell in that ancient battle remain bound here, along with the angry shades of doomed eladrin and other innocent shades who were trapped in transition. Explorers may be overwhelmed by visions of that terrible final conflict, or assaulted by spirits who seek vengeance or a final release. An important point is that these spirits don’t have consecutive memory: for the most part, they are still trapped in the moment of their demise, still fighting their final battles and yearning for revenge on a nation that’s now dust.

Within this concept, it’s up to the DM to decide what wonders remain. Perhaps the library remains intact, holding the secrets of thousands of ancient champions (including dragons, giants, orcs, eladrin, and many others). Maybe there’s a vault of demiliches of dozens of different species, dragon-skulls who still remember the battles against the Overlords. The mightiest artifacts would have been taken by the giants, but there could be many lesser treasures that were beneath their notice… or deep vaults (such as that ossuary of demiliches) where even the giants feared to tread. Ultimately, it’s still important to bear in mind that it’s NOT simply the ruins of a mortal city; explorers are stepping into the story of a haunted ruin, clinging to its tragic loss. Another question to consider is whether the archfey of the city still remains, and if so in what form.

Strangely, this could be another way to explore the Raven Queen in Eberron. Perhaps the ruins of Shae Tirias Tolai still linger between Eberron, Thelanis, and Dolurrh. The Raven Queen is the archfey of the city that stands between life and death. The Shadar-Kai are all that remain of her beautiful children, and the memories she captures are what preserve her existence. If you take this route, the ruins would be revealed to be a gateway to Dolurrh. The question is whether the Raven Queen has accepted her fate and embraced her new story… or whether the player characters could undo the damage that has been done and somehow restore the City of Silver and Bone, allowing it to serve once again as a friendly waystation on the journey into oblivion.

Story Hooks

People exploring Xen’drik could simply stumble onto the ruins of Shae Tirias Tolai. The Curse of the Traveler makes the geography of Xen’drik unreliable; explorerers could discover the ruins once and never find their way back to the shattered city. But they could also be drawn to the haunted city. Consider the following ideas.

  • The party discovers a trinket from Shae Tirias Tolai. It could be carried by an enemy, found in a villain’s hoard, or simply discovered in a flea market or the trash heaps of Sharn. The trinket yearns to be returned to the City of Silver and Bone, and whoever holds it will have visions of the ancient city and its final battle. The trinket serves as a compass, and the party that carries it can ignore the Traveler’s Curse. Will they follow where it leads? A table of possible trinkets is included at the end of this article.
  • The Order of the Emerald Claw is searching for Shae Tirias Tolai. There are secrets in the City of Silver and Bone that are critical to the plans of the Queen of the Dead. Perhaps she can raise an army of lingering giant ghosts and bind them to her will. Possibly a crumbling dragon demilich knows the secret of restoring her lost mark. Whatever power she seeks, the PCs must find a way to reach Tirias Tolai before the Queen of the Dead… or if they arrive too late, to turn the lingering ghosts of the city against the Emerald Claw.
  • When a previously unknown undead force (Acererak? A Qablarin arch-vampire? A sinister being directly channeling the power of Mabar and Dolurrh?) threatens the world, the key to understanding this villain may lie in Shae Tirias Tolai. It could be held in a crumbling scroll in the library, found on a tattered tapestry, or contained in the cracked skull of an ancient demilich.
  • Someone who has been raised from the dead finds that they hear whispers, and are haunted by nightmares when they sleep or trance. Even though they have returned from death, a piece of their spirit has been trapped in Shae Tirias Tolai… and unless it can be released, their soul will eventually be torn from their body and pulled down into the haunted city. Play this a horror movie: the player character returned from the dead, but they came back incomplete and that hole in their soul is growing; if they can’t find the city they see in their visions, they will either die again or become some sort of undead monster.
  • Consider a variation of the Eye of Vecna. The giants couldn’t destroy the archfey of Shae Tirias Tolai, but they took pieces of the archfey and scattered them across the world. Each of these pieces grants great power, but the pieces yearn to be reunited and to return to the fallen feyspire. The spirit may not be evil in the traditional sense, but all mortals are as dust to it, and all that it cares about is its restoration and the restoration of its citadel. One possibility is that the sentience of the archfey doesn’t communicate directly with those who bear the pieces… but that they all know that ultimate power awaits in the haunted city.

These are just a few ideas. The point is that the City of Silver and Bone can serve many roles. It could be a haunted dungeon that adventurers stumble into once while exploring Xen’drik. It could the the ultimate capstone in the plans of the Emerald Claw. Or it could be a mystery that develops over time, a slow burn tied to the visions of a resurrected hero or the whispers of a powerful artifact.

Here’s a few ideas for trinkets tied to Shae Tirias Tolai. Even if the adventurers never go to the City of Silver and Bone, one of these trinkets could add interesting color to a story.

If you have questions or ideas tied to the City of Silver and Bone, share them below! Thanks as always to my Patreon supporters, who keep this website going. I’ll be at DragonCon, and I’ll post my schedule tomorrow!

Q&A 5/18/18: Undead, Sarlona, and More!

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May is a busy month. I’m swamped with writing and travel (I’m currently at Keycon 35 in Winnipeg), so I haven’t had time to write a proper article. However, I reached out to my Patreon supporters for questions for a quick Q&A, and here we are. Next week I may post some thoughts on Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes and how I’d apply it to Eberron.

Before I get to the questions, I want to tell you about something else that’s going on this week: The Gauntlet. Mox Boarding House in Bellevue, Washington is hosting a massive gaming tournament that’s raising money for charity. My company Twogether Studios is competing in the Gauntlet, raising money for Wellspring Family Services, and we need your help. Any donation is appreciated—a $5 donation would be fantastic—but if you’re in Portland, Oregon or the vicinity of Seattle, Washington and have the ability to be more generous, I’m going to offer a crazy incentive: a chance to play a one-shot session of Phoenix: Dawn Command or 5E D&D (in Eberron) with me. Here’s how this works: If you’re in Portland, a game requires a donation of $400. If you’re in the Seattle area, it’s going to be $500 (all the money goes directly to charity, but since it’s more work for me, I’m setting the bar higher…). This doesn’t have to be all from one person: I will run a game for up to six people, and their combined donations have to hit the target number.

If you want to do this, you need to be part of a group that is going to hit the target number. After making your donation, email me (use the Contact Me button on this website) and let me know who your group is. I’ll work with your group to find a time to play. It may take a while—summer is an especially busy time for me—but I’ll make sure we get to play before the end of 2018. With that said, The Gauntlet takes place on May 20th, so there’s not a lot of time to donate. Again, the Twogether Studios donation link is here. Whether or not you have the ability to donate, thanks for reading!

Now, on with the Q&A…

I was wondering about bone knights and their place in Karrnath. Are they still a component of Karrnathi culture and society after the war? Were they created specifically for the Last War or did Karrnath have a longer history with these more military necromancers? Is Kaius opposed to the Blood of Vol generally or the Emerald Claw specifically, and if the former is the Bone Knight thing something he wants gone from Karrnath?

There’s a lot of topics to unravel. From a canon perspective, my take is laid out in City of Stormreach and more specifically, the Eye on Eberron article on Fort Bones in Dungeon 195. Here’s the key points.

  • The core Karrnathi culture focuses on martial skill and discipline. It has nothing to do with necromancy or the use of undead.
  • The Seekers of the Divinity Within have long had a presence in Karrnath. This religion has a close association with necromancy and the practical use of the undead. The Bone Knight is specifically a Seeker tradition: an expert in commanding undead forces in combat. EoED195 calls out that Seekers of the Divinity Within served alongside Karrn the Conqueror and Galifar I. However, they were a minority faith and the army as a whole didn’t rely on or embrace their traditions.
  • When Karrnath faced plagues and famines during the Last War, the Queen of the Dead offered the assistance of the Blood of Vol. In exchange, the crown was obliged to recognized and elevate Seekers and to promote their faith. The chivalric orders of the Blood of Vol expanded. Undead were produced in greater numbers than ever before and became a critical part of Karrnath’s military strategy, resulting in a need for even more Bone Knights to command them.
  • Over time, the famines were brought under control and the balance of the war shifted. The traditionalist warlords despised both the erosion of Karrnathi military tradition and the increased political power of the Seekers. Furthermore, the use of undead disturbed the other nations. With the war closing, Kaius strengthened his position with the traditionalist warlords and the other nations by disavowing the Blood of Vol and stopping the production of undead, sealing the majority of the undead legions in the vaults below Atur. Most of the Seeker orders were disbanded, though some Seekers (and undead troops) have remained in service, most notably in Fort Bones and Fort Zombie. Kaius has continued to use the Blood of Vol as a convenient scapegoat to direct the frustration of his people, and has gone so far as to blame the Seekers for the plagues and famines that originally weakened the nation.

So, looking to the questions specifically: In my opinion, the Bone Knight is an old Seeker tradition, but one that was very uncommon before the Last War because the Seekers weren’t part of the Karrnathi military tradition; their numbers increased during the Last War in order to manage the undead forces. Kaius is publicly using the Blood of Vol as a useful scapegoat. He doesn’t NEED very many Bone Knights since he’s retired most of the undead; he’s dismissed most and allowed some to be persecuted as war criminals. However, regardless of this public image he’s not personally opposed to the Seekers. He’s maintained Fort Bones and Fort Zombie, and has a small cadre of Bone Knights and necromancers whose loyalty to the nation outweighs their anger at the treatment of their brethren.

Are Bone Knights mostly Seekers or would one devoted to the Dark Six or the Sovereign Host be capable of getting far?

There’s a number of factors. They’re mostly Seekers because it’s an ancient Seeker tradition, tied to their long-standing use of practical necromancy. Theoretically someone who follows another faith could fill that role, but it requires deep devotion to the necromantic arts. If you revere the Sovereign Host—honoring Dol Arrah and Aureon—how do you embrace this dark path? The Shadow and the Keeper are the Sovereigns who would guide you on this road, and that’s a viable path, but not exactly one that Karrnath would celebrate and encourage. So sure; I think someone devoted to the Dark Six could become an accomplished Bone Knight, but that faith won’t make them any more acceptable to the general public than the Seekers… and might even result in greater distrust and suspicion.

Is the Order of Rekkenmark’s opposition to necromancers something which would prevent a Bone Knight from excelling in their organization (as advisors to the King, movers and shakers politically)?

It’s something that would make it VERY DIFFICULT for a Bone Knight to advance in their organization, absolutely. But nothing’s impossible. It simply means that the Bone Knight in question would have to be a soldier of unparalleled accomplishment and skill, someone whose dedication to Karrnath and the king is beyond reproach. It’s possible Alinda Dorn, commander of Fort Bones, is a member of the Order of Rekkenmark. She’s an advisor to and confidante of the king in any case; it’s simply a question of whether he embraces that publicly, or prefers to keep his favor for her hidden from the traditionalist warlords.

Are the rituals for creating Mabaran undead and Irian deathless completely different, or do they look fundamentally alike except for the power source?

ALL rituals for creating undead and deathless are completely different from one another. The techniques used to create deathless are dramatically different from rituals used to create Mabaran undead. But there’s no ONE TRUE RITUAL for creating undead. Looking above, a Bone Knight who draws power from faith in the Shadow and the Keeper should use different trappings from one following the path of the Divinity Within. The techniques of a wizard will as a rule be entirely different from those employed by a cleric. One’s a form of arcane science; the other an act of extreme devotion. In my opinion, the Seeker traditions walk a line between these two sides, drawing on both devotion and a form of science. We’ve established that the Odakyr Rites used to create the sentient Karrnathi undead were a breakthrough developed during the Last War—and as such, themselves unlike the techniques used elsewhere.

Did the Dhakaani have any rites or rituals to create undead? 

Did the Dhakaani as a culture embrace the creation of undead or develop techniques for creating them? Definitely not. The Dhakaani were a culture driven by martial excellence. They were agnostic (thus lacking clerics) and had very limited interest in the arcane. So no, there were no institutionalized necromancers in the Empire. With that said, it was a vast civilization that lasted for thousands of years. During that time, could a small group have developed such techniques? Could there be a Kech Mortis that has perfected these techniques during its centuries of exile, which now claims the Imperial throne with its army of undead heroes? Sure, why not! But just like Karrnath, the traditionalist like the Kech Sharaat would like be disgusting by this strange deviation from the true path.

Did they have answers to the spawn-creating plagues like ghoul fever?

The primary arcane path the Dhakaani embraced was the path of the Duur’kala, which is to say the bard. The Duur’kala inspire heroes in battle, but they also used their abilities to heal and to enhance diplomacy. The bardic spell list includes lesser restoration and greater restoration. So, there’s your answer. Now again, if you like the idea of a Kech vault that was overrun by a zombie plague the duur’kala couldn’t contain—so PCs stumbling into an ancient Dhakaani fortress filled with undead—I’m all for it. As a culture they had a tool for it, that doesn’t mean everyone always had access to that tool.

Is it very difficult to travel across the Barren Sea? Are there ports in, say, the Shadow Marches that get trade directly from Sarlona?

This is largely covered in Secrets of Sarlona. Riedra strictly limits contact with foreigners, and Dar Jin is the only port that accepts general commerce. Other than that, there are a few outposts in Ohr Kaluun and a harbor in Adar. So, it’s not so much that it’s difficult as it is that there’s very few places to go.

Zarash’ak is the only major port in the Shadow Marches, though you could certainly introduce a smuggler’s outpost on the coast near Slug Keep. It’s certainly reasonable to think that Zarash’ak could have traffic with Riedran ships from Dar Jin.

And does the majority of trade between, say, Karrnath and Breland go via boats through the Lhazaar Principalities, or is the faster/cheaper to use overland shipment?

I addressed this specific question in a previous Q&A, so check that out. River barges, lightning rails, and airships are all options, though the Lhazaar route is also a possibility.

Do you have any brief tips for involving the Venomous Demesne into a campaign?

The Venomous Demesne is a Tiefling city-state on the far side of Droaam. They’re isolationists and largely unknown in the Five Nations. I discuss hooks for characters from the Venomous Demesne in this article. As for ways to use it in a campaign, here’s three ideas entirely off the top of my head.

  • The Venom Lords are working on an Eldritch Machine. They’ve sent agents into the wider world acquiring the rare components required for this device. Are they working on behalf of the Daughters of Sora Kell, or does the device have a more sinister purpose?
  • The vaults of the Venomous Demesne hold secrets that date back to the ancient nation of Ohr Kaluun. The player characters could need to acquire Kaluunite lore for an unrelated plot: tied to another Eldritch machine, to a path of the Prophecy, or perhaps to understanding some sort of demonic threat. To get what they need, they’ll have to go to the Venomous Demesne and earn the trust of its lords.
  • A variation of the previous idea is needing something that can only be obtained or acquired in the Venomous Demesne: a particular magic item or artifact, learning a spell, etc.
  • The lords of Ohr Kaluun made pacts with a wide variety of extraplanar and fiendish forces. If you want to do something with some sort of archfiend (such as demon lords from Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes), one of the lines of the Demesne could work as its agents (or be opposed to it, but still know its secrets). Personally I’d use such a being as a powerful force in Khyber—below the level of an Overlord, but nonetheless a powerful threat that has recently broken loose from binding and is just starting to rebuild its influence in Eberron.

Is there any possibility of getting a (rough) timeline of when the events of human/Sarlonan history occurred? Were there any trade relations between Dhakaan and Khorvaire at some point, or was Lhazaar the first human to see the shores of Khorvaire?

The ancient nations of Sarlona are left intentionally vague so that they can fill the role you want them to fill. I see no reason that Lhazaar should be the first human to have set foot on Khorvaire; in all likelihood, she set out for Khorvaire because she’d heard stories of the land from previous explorers. The idea of canon is that Lhazaar’s expedition marked the first sustained and successful contact between the two. If you want to have players stumble across the ruins of an Uorallan outpost in the Shadow Marches — evidence of a settlement completely lost to history — do it. But I don’t think we’ll be defining those pre-Lhazaar civilizations in significantly more detail in a canon source.

(The founder of the Kalashtar) Taratai is female in Races of Eberron, and male in Secrets of Sarlona. Which is it?

It’s a legitimately confusing issue. Here’s a quote from “The Legend of Taratai” in Secrets of Sarlona (page 24):

She led sixty-seven spirits that became the kalashtar to Adar, where the monk Hazgaal and his students accepted them. In Hazgaal’s body as Haztaratai (though many stories still call her Taratai), she taught and wrote the precepts of the Path of Light… 

So: both SoS and RoE agree that the kalaraq quori Taratai identified as female. However, per SoS she bonded with the human monk Hazgaal, who was male. This means that the spiritual lineage of Taratai were male kalashtar, though they were bound to a female spirit. Quite a few kalashtar lines have this sort of disconnect, which results in a great deal of gender fluidity within kalashtar culture.

Do the Kalashtar believe in reincarnation, like the Riedrans do?

Sort of, but they aren’t as concerned with it as the Riedrans are. First of all, as a kalashtar you are already part of something immortal. You are bound to the quori spirit, and your memories and experiences remain with the spirit even after your physical body dies; so the kalashtar don’t see death as an absolute end. Beyond that, SoS notes that the Path of Light maintains that “Dolurrh is a place where the ego dies, but the spirit is immortal, and it returns to the Material Plane again and again.” LIFE is eternal. The soul is part of the celestial machine of the universe. But it’s not about YOU, and they don’t believe that the form your spirit takes in its next incarnation is somehow tied to your actions in your previous life, as the Path of Inspiration states. It’s not a reward or a punishment; it’s just the nature of the universe. Your legacy remains with your lineage, and the soul that was yours continues on its journey.

Why didn’t the Inspired seize Syrkarn as well as the other ancient kingdoms, instead satisfying themselves with a shallow “protectorate” title and some behind-the-curtain schemes?

The Inspired have no interest in conquering Syrkarn. The territory is too large, the population too low, and they are still concerned about the lingering threat of the rakshasa rajah buried beneath the realm. The Inspired don’t feel a need to control every single individual; they are looking to control massive populations. There’s not enough people in Syrkarn to be worth the effort, doubly so when combined with the vast stretches of relatively barren land… not to mention the threat of the Overlord.

More generally, what makes Syrkarn interesting, according to you, as a playground?

First of all, it’s a part of Sarlona in which people can move freely. Second, I’d look to page 86 of Secrets of Sarlona. Scheming yuan-ti! An Overlord stirring! Karrak cults! The Heirs of Ohr Kaluun and the Horned Shadow! Relics from pre-Sundering Sarlona! Tribal conflicts (perhaps stirred up by the yuan-ti or the Overlord)! Possibly even surprising ties to the giants of Xen’drik, lingering through the eneko.

From a game design point of view, why define Sarlona as being a blind spot in the Draconic Prophecy? 

It’s summed up on page nine of Secrets of Sarlona: “The dragons of the Chamber shun Sarlona, but they want to know what is transpiring beyond its shores. PCs who have ties to the Chamber, the Undying Court, or even the Lords of Dust could be sent to explore mysteries related to the draconic Prophecy.” By making it a region where dragons fear to tred, we add a reason why player characters should go there; it provides a range of potential story hooks you don’t have in other lands.

Adar is wider than Aundair or Thrane (while understandably less populated). Now that the kalashtar can see the Inspired openly moving unto Khorvaire, how comes Adar didn’t make itself known too, nor officially voice some warning?

First of all, per SOS it’s population density is around one person for every two square miles of land—lower than Alaska or Tibet. Its people have been described as “insular to the point of xenophobia.” Direct travel between Adar and Khorvaire is extremely difficult, meaning that you have no regular stream of commerce or communication, nor any particular interest in such commerce. We’ve established that the Adaran kalashtar believe that the battle against il-Lashtavar will be won by their persistence and devotion: they don’t NEED to get the world on their side, they just need to hold their ground and continue what they are doing.

Many kalashtar in Khorvaire hold to the same general belief: we will triumph through perseverance. What’s important is protecting our community and continuing our devotions. Some younger kalashtar have embraced more active intervention, but even they largely believe that this is their war to fight, and that the humans wouldn’t listen to them or believe them. And they’re likely right. Riedra is a valuable trade partner, and it has come to the assistance of many nations during the Last War. There is a concrete benefit to working with Riedra. By contrast, Adar has virtually no recognition and nothing to offer. Even if I believe your story about the leaders of Riedra being aliens, the leaders of the Aereni are DEAD and we deal with them. And you may SAY that they want to conquer the world, but I’m not seeing it happening, and trust me, crazy monk, if they start any trouble, we can handle it. So: self-interest and arrogance are likely to outweigh the stories of the few kalashtar who do speak out against Riedra.

While religions are not required to comment on the truth or falsity of each other’s doctrines, are there any Adaran scholars aware of the Valenar and their apparent reality of the potential continuity of identity their (in purely mechanical terms) higher average levels indicate?

Possibly. There’s not a lot of overlap between them, geographically or culturally. But I don’t think there’s much to debate. Spirits exist; devotion creates positive energy that can sustain a spirit, as proven by the concrete example of the Undying Court; devoted Valenar display a level of skill that seems to support guidance from ancestral spirits. I could see a follower of the Blood of Vol saying “But how do you know that the spirit isn’t just a manifestation of YOU? The power comes from within you; you’re just creating this myth of your ancestor to help you interpret it.” I could see someone else saying “You’re getting guidance from a spirit, but are you sure it’s not some kind of demon or something masquerading as your ancestor?” Essentially, i don’t think there are many people saying that the Tairnadal religion has no grounding in reality; but I could imagine people arguing that some of the DETAILS might not be what the Valenar believe them to be.

How much of the ancient history of the Giant Empire is known in Khorvaire, and since when? On the one hand, it makes plenty of sense, both in-world and for game purpose, that it’s still shrouded in mystery, that only a few scholars and daring explorers start to poke at. But on the other hands, there are elves assimilated in Khorvaire since centuries, and their whole culture revolves about perpetuating tradition: why would they hide their stories from the other races?

There’s quite a few factors here.

  • The elves know THEIR history. That doesn’t mean they know the history of the giants. Consider the tale of Cardaen. “He was born in a high tower, and Cul’sir made sure his feet never touched the ground.” That’s quite different from “He was born in the city of Aulantaara in the year 14,004 RTC, where he served as an arcane adjunct to the Cul’sir College of Evocation, eventually rising to the Fourth Circle.” The Elves have preserved STORIES about the giants; that doesn’t mean they ever knew the absolute FACTS.
  • The elves are isolationist by nature. Their history and the tales of the ancestors are part of the foundation of their religion, and we’ve never suggested that they want members of other species to adopt their religion. I think they’d spread some details out of pride, but at the same time, I think there’s a certain level of “Our history is none of your business.”
  • The civilizations of the giants fell forty thousand years ago on another continent. How much does the typical westerner know about Sumerian history? If someone threw a musical version of the myth of Gilgamesh onto Broadway, do you think it would dethrone Hamilton? I’m sure SCHOLARS know as much as is known about the history of the giants, and that reflects the information you could get with a History check. But I think most humans just don’t care about the history of the giants; it’s an obscure ancient civilization that has virtually no relevance to their modern lives.

So, COULD a modern playwright produce a play about the story of Vadallia and Cardaen? Absolutely. I’m sure that there’s multiple versions of just such a play created over the millennia by phiarlans. But is such a play going to appeal to a modern human audience, or would they rather see a tale of Lhazaar, or Karrn the Conqueror, or Aundair’s forbidden love, or the sacrifice of Tira Miron? It’s possible that it would succeed—that it would be exotic and unusual and people would latch onto it. But even so, what people would then know about the giants is the same as a human who knows about early American history because they watched Hamilton; they know Cardaen was a slave who worked magic, but that doesn’t mean they know much about the actual structure of the Cul’sir Dominion, beyond the name of its evil titan king. Personally I think it’s the same general model as what the typical Westerner knows about Sumer, or ancient Egypt: the names of a few of their rulers, sure. A few stories that have been featured in popular culture or enshrined by scholars. But if you stopped someone on the street, do you think they could tell you about the structure of the Egyptian military under the Pharaoh Snefru? How many pharoahs could they name? Could they tell you how many dynasties their were? And that’s a human culture that existed just five thousand years ago.

So: I don’t think the history of the giants is an ABSOLUTE mystery. I think the common person knows that there were multiple giant cultures; that they enslaved the elves; that there was an elvish uprising and the giants were destroyed by dragons. They might know the name Cul’sir specifically because they’ve encountered it in Elvish tales, the way many Westerners know Cleopatra because of her role in popular culture but have never heard of Menes… or they might just know him as “that evil titan king.” But I doubt the common person knows much more than that.

If you have questions on these or other topics, ask below!