In the past, I've talked a bit about how to deal with Undead in DH5, specifically the Undead of Warhammer, which tend to be pretty classic, but very oversplit. (Not that D&D doesn't of course have exactly that same problem, because it absolutely and completely does.) But in spite of that oversplitting, there's a lot of potential value to be extracted from the material that they have, and hey, if you like having miniatures, they also tend to have pretty darn good ones. Here's my review from this same season four years ago; back when the Tomb Kings army was still around and you could get miniatures like Necrosphinxes and Sepulchral Stalkers and whatnot. I also decided that my way of dealing with the oversplitting was basically to create more generic rules that can be tweaked as needed, by dividing the undead up into somewhat broadish categories, to see where it makes sense to create unique monster stats. Here's what I've done in that regard previously (the updated version.) Let me quote myself, at least briefly:
1) Corporeal Sentient: Undead who have physical bodies, and some degree of free will and sentience as we understand it. At the top of the heap here would be vampires and liches and maybe powerful wights and mummies Other concepts could be incorporated here too, but they are really variations on one of those existing themes, with the possible exception of something like Frankenstein's monster.
2) Incorporeal Sentient: Intelligent and free-willed, yet ethereal or incorporeal ghosts. The real iconic example from fantasy fiction is the Ringwraiths. I'm not 100% sure I want to keep the rules I have for them in Dark•Heritage 2 and Fantasy Hack because they may be too punitive to the players. Then again, maybe not. The rules I have are heavily based on the early episodes of the Supernatural TV show, but other iterations make sense too.
3) Corporeal Mindless: There's a vast throng of more or less mindless creatures like skeletons, zombies, and whatnot. They are basically automatons; golems who use a human corpse instead of a constructed statue or whatnot as the corporeal element. Some creatures, like wights or even mummies, have trended more into this territory, depending on the particular interpretation.
4) Incorporeal Mindless: There are fewer examples of this, but the ghosts of the Dresden books qualify; basically just echoes of a brief moment in time of someone that remains causing havoc, but which can only react to things in certain rather pre-scripted ways, and which don't do much else. Haunts from my rules (adapted from Pathfinder) qualify.
5) Undead Monsters: These guys are not specifically based on human corpses or spirits, as the other four so far discussed are, but are instead strange monsters made like the undead. Stuff like the dracolich or zombie dragon (or fell ghast from my rules) is the perfect example. When Harry Dresden brought "Sue" the T. rex skeleton back to unlife, cloaking it in ethereal ectoplasm and riding it into battle against the necromancers, that would qualify too.
6) Associated Hangers-On: Sometimes ghouls, wolves, bats, and other vermin get lumped in here; they're not Undead themselves per se, but they are associated with them. I'm going to go a slightly different direction with ghouls, which will reflect more the Flesh-Eating Courts manner of approaching them; i.e., they're just vampires who are more savage and ugly than those who've clawed their way past the madness of their condition to manage to imitate civilized behavior (at least sometimes)The issue, of course, is that I don't really want stat proliferation. It's something to avoid for its own sake. But, at the same time, looking in particular at lists like we have in the Nighthaunts army book, even though they are "troop types" rather than individual monsters, each type has its own unique ghost story associated with them, and bringing that to your FRPG makes them more interesting. I'll go through them shortly, but in the meantime, what's a good model to suggest these unique kinds of details, and how do you use them?
I actually think a good model is that show Supernatural (I hear that they just recently removed most of the seasons from Netflix. I wonder sometimes why I still have a Netflix account at all; it's been months since I tried to watch anything on it. Sigh.) Anyway, the first season is the best one, and if you watch it, you'll notice that there are a bunch of episodes where they have to deal with a ghost of some kind or other; classic episodes like the pilot, "Woman in White", episode 3 "Dead in the Water", 5 "Bloody Mary", 7 "Hook Man" and many, many others show that the key to making a monster encounter interesting is not necessarily having interesting stats; it's about having enough backstory and things that need to be done to defeat it, that doing so is the focus of an entire module's worth of gaming (or TV show episode's worth of watching.) Given that I prefer to run my games in a manner that is consistent with Chris Perkins' DM Experience column, that's a good model for me. (As an aside, that was a great column. It didn't fundamentally change the way I ran, so much as it put into words and spelled out in detail how to do something purposefully that I tended to do more intuitively, and because it did so, it made it easier to do it a little better than I was, because it was more deliberate. But when I read it, it wasn't revolutionary to me; it was more like recognizing a reflection of yourself that you haven't seen in a long time, or something. Not that I'm trying to compare the quality of the experience of playing with me to that of playing with Chris Perkins, but rather that his style of how to run and structure a long-running game was aligned with my preferences too. Anyway, those columns are now hard to find, if you haven't already archived them somewhere, but good luck; they're probably out there on archive.is or something somewhere. Also, here's my summary of the column, I, II and III.)
Anyway, (sorry, off-topic tangent alert. Too late; I already did it!) I'm not suggesting that Supernatural is a great show. I got lost in the weeds somewhere in season 4 or 5 and the only episode I've seen since is the one where they became Scooby-doo cartoons for the majority of the episode, because my wife saw it advertised and DVRed it for us to watch together, knowing that I'd get a kick out of it. But the first two seasons really show exactly how I think monsters should be treated in your FRPG; they shouldn't be disposable, they shouldn't be part of your typical fantasy morning commute; in order to be truly monstrous and horrifying, as monsters should be, they need to take up the entirety of a module's worth of adventure. There should be foreshadowing before you actually encounter it, and side effects of its presence that the PCs should have to deal with. It shouldn't be the kind of thing that the PCs just fight and then it's dead and that's that; they should have a few encounters that show them that they are potentially outmatched unless they do some research or tactical something or other to figure out how to put themselves in a better position to deal with the monster rather that just shout huzzah and charge into combat. Actually defeating it should involve some effort into even finding it, and that should involve discovering some of the story of how it came to be what it is (or at least where it is) before they kill it.
And then, it's entirely possible that the combat encounter be well done, but not necessarily super innovative (or rather, the stats of the monster don't need to be innovative. Making the encounter itself innovative is a great idea; and check out the DM Experience column "Riot Act" for some great advice on how to do that.) Think about how in those Supernatural ghost stories, pretty much every ghost is handled the same way once you get down to it; find the remains, salt and burn them, and then maybe find out that it's not quite so simple, because there's something else that was missed that needs to be destroyed too, often involving some kind of justice or resolution to whatever caused the ghost to be a ghost after all. Because that's the core of many ghost stories, and certainly it's the core of every ghostly troop type in Nighthaunts; some kind of irony or great injustice that binds these spirits into a haunting.
For the most part, if you use the rules for ghosts that already exist, coupled with some haunts rules (speaking of Fantasy Hack or DH5. Of course, you can apply this same concept to most other games; D&D, Pathfinder, etc.) you probably don't need to actually do anything differently in terms of game development; rather focus your effort on a bit of planning to make sure you've got a memorable monster for the PCs to face, and a memorable journey to figure out how to defeat it.
Anyway, let's look at the specifics and you'll see what I mean. This stuff is just begging to be adapted to an RPG. Honestly, it fits an RPG paradigm a lot better than a fantasy wargame with armies paragidm, but it is what it is. I'll only quote one to show you what it's like, and if that doesn't immediately make you think of turning to your ghost stats and tweaking them to match this specific ghost story, then you probably shouldn't be GMing. After the first one, I'll just summarize much more briefly the other characters and troop types.
LADY OLYNDER, MORTARCH OF GRIEF
The Mortarchs are Nagash’s top lieutenants – powerful undead leaders that have been granted a sliver of the Great Necromancer’s power. Each of the existing Mortarchs, of which there were three, was chosen for their unique skills. Should Nagash need corruption he would turn to Neferata, Mortarch of Blood. If he needed to make a gory example of the foe, then he would call upon Mannfred von Carstein, Mortarch of Night. For the most secretive missions and empire-building, he favoured Arkhan the Black, Mortarch of Sacrament. All commanded their own undead legions and all wished to wield still more power. Yet Nagash desired a new element, and also loyalty, for of the Mortarchs only Arkhan the Black was truly content to serve.
The tale of how Nagash scoured the underworlds for a new subordinate is a long one, for there are untold dominions of the dead. From Stygxx, the Land of Forgotten Gods, to the hidden cold-fire plains of Helstrom; from the relic-filled lands of Carstinia to Hallost, Land of Dead Heroes, no afterlife was left unsearched. Nagash fixed his baleful gaze upon many souls – champions of unconquerable tribes, tyrant-kings of long-forsaken empires, matriarchs of bloodthirsty sisterhoods. Yet Nagash sought some quality they did not possess.
It was not clever manipulation, base cunning, or well-planned military strategy that earned the armies of the dead so many triumphs during the necroquake – it was shock and terror. The most overwhelming victories had been won through the suddenness of their assaults and the wave of fear that spread before the invasions and hung heavily over all lands through which the spectral hosts passed. Nagash was impressed with the psychological effect of the Nighthaunt armies upont the fragile and superstitious minds of mortals.
In truth, Nagash had forgotten the notion of fear, for it had been ages since he had felt its tremble. Despite his supreme intellect, the Great Necromancer, in his long plans, had allowed his logical mind to strategise without factoring in the emotions of mortals. It was a rare mistake, and one he vowed not to repeat.
In all his travels across the underworlds, Nagash found none like the Veiled Lady. Here was a spectre he had punished many centuries ago with a unique curse. In life she had been Lady Olynder, a beauty famed throughout the empire of Dolorum – the largest of civilisations from the lands known since the Age of Chaos as the Screaming Wastes. She had schemed, plotted and used charm to climb socially, leaving behind a trail of ruined suitors and deaths under mysterious circumstances. So great was her appeal that she wound her way upwards, winning the hearts of nobles and then, eventually, the Dolorum prince himself. Her betrothal to the future king ended on the very night when the prince and his father, the high king, disappeared. In their absence, she became the ruler of Dolorum.
Vowing to mourn her missing prince and king, the young queen took to wearing a veil. Her people called her the Mourning Bride or the Unrequited Queen, and her public display of grief won over even the coldest of hearts. Yet it was all a lie – her shows of remorse were false, her sorrows no more than a ruse. Hidden behind her veil and deceitful sobs, she could not help but smile at her own cleverness.
Elsewhere in the realms the travails of the Age of Chaos had begun turning civilisations into ruin, although Dolorum had thus far been spared. That came to an end when the plague arrived. Soon the queen’s sorrows were for her realm, but again, all her tears were false. She was safe in her palace, and her life a dream, even as all those around her died in the agonised throes of a weeping pox. Through it all Nagash had watched the empire of Dolorum, for its people had always honoured him. Their dedications had ended with the crowning of the new queen.
Even when her lands, cities and throne room were all but empty of life, Lady Olynder felt no real grief, and she attempted to parley with the agents of Nurgle. It was then that Nagash claimed her soul as his own. So did Olynder become the Veiled Lady, a spectre burdened to feel all the miseries of the Mortal Realms and forced to haunt the ruins of Dolorum. After the passing of many centuries, during which Nagash gave not a single thought to her fate, the god was surprised at what he found when he discovered her once more.
The Veiled Lady had again risen to rule over old Dolorum, although it had become a land swarming with wraiths and spectres. During the upheavals of the necroquake, Olynder subjugated the phantasmal denizens that arose there, drawing them closer with her spreading aura of grief. So haunted were the lands that any living being that dared enter them experienced true terror. Yet rule of one underworld could not satisfy her ambition, and the Veiled Lady longed to bring more nations – living and dead alike – beneath her dominion.
Here, at last, was the leader that Nagash was looking for, and so in dark ritual the Great Necromancer granted Lady Olynder a sliver of his own divinity. He knighted her the Mortarch of Grief, and tasked his new lieutenant first with uniting the Nighthaunts, and then leading them as the vanguard of his new crusade.
She is the Mourning Bride, the Unrequited Queen, the Veiled Lady and the Mortarch of Grief. She is despair made manifest, gloom given form. She is Lady Olynder, and in her are bound all the sorrows and anguishes of the realms.
Each of Nagash’s Mortarchs has been anointed with a portion of the Great Necromancer’s vast power. To Lady Olynder, who feigned sorrow in life, he gifted a mantle of misery – she now felt all the woes of the Mortal Realms, becoming a weaponisation of grief itself. Her power transcends the melancholic, for she exudes mind-crippling waves of purest desolation. Mortals in her presence are overwhelmed by a gloom so heavy that only the strongest willed can remain upright. Most fall to their knees, mentally battered by their own utter hopelessness. It is a sorrow and regret potent enough to cause a mother to forsake her child, a warrior to lay down his sword and accept the inevitable, to stop a beating heart.
Lady Olynder hovers above the ground, attended by her bridesmaids, a pair of banshee handmaidens. As she advances, the thorny vines of grave-roses instantaneously sprout before her, their flowers rapidly blooming and dying in order to lay a path of fallen petals beneath her floating form. In her hands the Veiled Lady wields the Staff of Midnight, an ornate stave topped with a polished gemstone of vitrified grave-sand. The lightest touch of this staff is enough to wither a mighty oak, or kill a grown man outright. Yet it is not Lady Olynder’s deadliest weapon.
In addition to being surrounded by an aura of absolute misery, Lady Olynder is also a powerful sorceress. With her incantations, she can direct a pall of despair to weigh upon her foes, slowing them like some unholy lodestone. Those afflicted suffer a mental burden so dire it causes even the bravest to tremble, their martial prowess lessened by leaden limbs and despondency beyond any hope of redemption.
In the midst of this bleak atmosphere she has created, Olynder presses forward, her banshee bridesmaids shrieking a wail of the damned while slashing with spectral talons at foes who draw close. One bridesmaid bears an ensorcelled grave-sand hourglass – a gift from Nagash – that can be smashed asunder with lethal effect. Yet Lady Olynder has another, even deadlier weapon. From behind her thin shroud, the sunken eyes of the Mortarch of Grief fixate upon a foe. Deliberately she pivots to face them, before slowly and solemnly lifting her veil. What horrors they see are unknown, for none have yet lived to tell the tale. So does Lady Olynder conquer, leading the fore of Nagash’s invasion in order to bring a new age of eternal death over the Mortal Realms.Anyway, other than Lady Olynder, we also have Kurdoss Valentian; a scheming climber who is cursed to always be the consort, never the ruler; Reikenor the Grimhailer, a sorcerer-king who sought to thwart death but now is cursed to be a reaper (ironic, given that that's Nagash's own backstory); the knights of shrouds who were generals and commanders who betrayed their own people to Nagash's undead hordes in ages past; Spirit Tormentors and Chaingheists that are eternally imprisoned souls, casting others into prison even as they long to be free; and more.
There's a lot of great material to be used here; some of it is oddly nihilistic, but even so, it's adaptable to a more psychologically healthy gamer. I highly recommend browsing the army book (or battle tome, or whatever they're calling it these days) or even just looking over the miniatures and their descriptions on the website and making your ghosts just a bit more interesting.
Also note that my earlier Friday Art Attack post had images of Lady Olynder and Reikenor the Grimhailer, as well as a knight of shrouds and some chaingheist miniatures.
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