A Sundered World: Mes-Atbaru, City of the Dead

Note: Josh and I had some pretty busy weeks, and had to communicate these ideas mostly through email, which is part of what contributed it to being around a week late. Sorry for the delay, but hopefully it is at least partly worth the wait.

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A lot of mortals have rituals where the wealthy dead get buried in tombs or burned with their treasure. Since in A Sundered World the souls of the dead manifest and stick around for awhile, being buried with your stuff would be kind of boring, and burning it would be even more counter-productive because then you would not have the opportunity to interact with (read: defend yourself from) would-be looters.

Besides, rich or poor, not all undead are shambling zombies or brainless skeletons. Being undead means that you do not spend a lot of your time sleeping (typically none, except for vampires), which gives them a lot of free time. Since many at the least retain shreds of their personality, not only are not all of them flesh-craving monsters–though some do love them some flesh–but they can also get bored. What if you could take your treasure and celebrate your newfound unlife?

Normally when I think about a city populated primarily by undead, I envision a bleak, crumbling, hopefully isolated necropolis, filled with undead both unintelligent and free-roaming. Maybe there are some haunted areas, where the scenery changes to force the characters to bear witness–or maybe even become participants–to a past atrocity. In other words, a hostile place for most character builds and creature types.

Mes-Atbaru is, well, pleasantly different. No, I mean that. It is really not a bad place.

Located within the midst of a demiplane with strong ties to the Netherworld, most of the realm consists of a lifeless, black desert. A dark river of icy water cuts through it, nourishing nothing. Mes-Atbaru is nestled within the center, a shining beacon in the darkness where undead can indulge their various hungers and instincts, and prolong their sentience through continual exposure to exciting and changing experiences (which is particularly important for ghosts, who can become haunts or wraiths if their memories wane too far).

Though nothing natural dwells with the surrounding desert or river, the city itself is situated even more firmly within the shadowy grasp of the lingering echoes of the Netherworld. The closer one gets to the center of the city, the more blurred and uncertain the line between life and death becomes, as ghostly figures become tangible and opaque, allowing them to more easily work alongside shades and visiting mortals (and be imprisoned if they become problematic).

To call the city ostentatious is an understatement: the streets are brilliantly lit by magical lanterns that can instantly shift color, costumed skeletons continuously parade through the streets, engaging in carefully instructed performances, illusionary fountains spray multi-colored water, set to flawlessly orchestrated music, restaurants cater to any taste (no matter how exotic or grim), flying undead offer tours above the city, as well as less innocent vices such as brothel houses and gambling halls.

Even for undead living in the city costs something, whether money or memories. For undead and mortal alike, there is no shortage for demand for bodyguards and menial labor as the city is constantly repaired, buildings modified or newly constructed, and the undercity excavated. Skilled artisans, performers, and guides can likewise frequently find work as the city grows to accommodate new arrivals and tastes.

Mortals have a slight edge in that they rent themselves out as temporary vessels so ghosts can engage in various, well, “physical activities”, innocent and not. Blood can also be donated to vampires, who are willing to pay extra to take it directly. Both services are often employed by the living servants to help pay for their owners’ residence and excesses.

Finally the truly desperate can always opt to pawn off memories; the more emotional and/or rare the memory, the more it is worth, and there are more than a few adventurers that use this secondary market to greatly supplement their income.

The city is ruled by the flamboyantly-dressed and gregarious lich, Lord Theobald Rictus. He is a frequent sight, touring the city to personally observe (and participate) in events, patronize establishments, and, if need be, harshly enforce his will through powerful magic and servitors.

Despite his continual presence and reputation, denizens still sometimes vanish from the streets. Mortals are sold into slavery, butchered as delicacies, and/or have their memories extracted for use in vice dens or sold to information brokers. For undead, ghosts are the ones typically in danger as their essence can be distilled and their memories sliced.

Adventure Hooks 

• The characters must guide a soul to the city. It promises to reward them with a portion of its treasure on arrival.
• Smugglers along the transspatial leylines have been engaged in a bloody conflict over the newly emerging street market for ectoplasm, and must stop it at it’s source. 
• A legendary minstrel has consigned his afterlife to an indefinite regular gig in Mes-Atbaru. Now that his days are numbered, he needs the characters help to renege on his deal with Lord Rictus.
• A conclave of ancient liches have come to Mes-Atbaru and they don’t really appreciate Rictus’ fresh look on the afterlife. They intend to drag the undead denizens of the city back into the shadows where they belong. What side do the characters fall on?

The Name
One point of consternation is the name of the city. Mes-Atbaru, to me, gives it a suitably ancient sounding name, because the place was not always, as Josh described it, an undead version of Las Vegas with a 24/7 Mardi Gras going on. Josh wanted to go with something more suitably lively and upbeat, like San Lucent. Melissa pitched Datura, which is a kind of witchweed that can induce hallucinations and/or death.

What do you guys think? Do you like any of them, or have something else to pitch?

Wandering Monsters: The Restless Dead

The undead discussion wraps up (for now) with some more ghost-talk.

It is not much, but I think it helps provide some much needed distinction between ghosts and specters: ghosts haunt areas and have unfinished business that can still be resolved, while specters are free roaming, their tasks incapable of being completed.

In addition to a greater emphasis on fetters, I also really dig the idea of ghosts being able to have a weakness. The idea of a tortured ghost taking full damage from torture implements can add another layer of mystery to an adventure (as well as an alternative for adventurers that get bored trying to figure out how to put a ghost to rest, and instead want to just beat it up).

As for specters, I like that they do not really employ complex tactics. It is a small thing, but I wish monsters would have more recommendations for combat tactics. Now let us hope for some better artwork next time around.

Dragon’s-Eye View: Undead

Jon talks undead, specifically ghosts and the ghost-like specter and wraith. He first asks about the visual differences between the three. No mechanics, just that if you described them to a player if they could tell them apart. Based on his descriptions and art, I could say that save for the ghost and spectre yeah, they are pretty easy to tell apart. The problem is that I do not like any of the art (and disagree on the flavor material concerning the wraith).

The ghost has an exaggerated pose, like she got shoved, and I guess the sample specter’s manner of violent death was by being skinned? The wraith just looks silly, with its contorted arms and massive right hand. Like the lizardfolk and troglodyte none of this art looks like that anyone was trying very hard, and I hope it all gets scrapped. Also if wraiths are spirits that have been bound to a location, why must they be depicted in armor?  They could just as easily retain their appearance from previous editions, skulking about the place they must guard and ambush intruders.

In 2nd Edition the images of the ghost and spectre looked like the same old lady, just in different colored clothing. 3rd Edition the descriptions were basically the same, except the ghost entry mentioned that “in some cases the spiritual form is somewhat altered” (though provides no examples or limitations), while spectres often displayed the evidence of a violent death. 4th Edition deviated from this model by having ghosts look humanoid (or whatever creature it is a ghost of), with specters looking more like amorphous, vaguely humanoid masses of spirit-stuff.

The wraith is really the odd man out, here. The 2nd Edition picture shows a shadowy shape with roiling smoke for feet, whose skeletal face glows with an internal light. The 3rd Edition wraith looks more like tattered, black cloth with a vaguely humanoid shape. 4th Edition kind of mixed the two, giving us something that looks like a humanoid figure shrouded in black clothing, with glowing eyes and mouth.

So how would I describe them?

I am not entirely opposed to ghosts having the largely traditional “ghost” form that we have come to expect: semi-transparent, blue, white, green, etc color, and perhaps the feet are wispy trails. They could also radiate a soft glow, and I imagine that when they move their form dissipates briefly, solidifying once they stop. In most cases they would appear as they did at their time of death, so if they were injured, mutilated, or executed it would be readily apparent.

Spectres/specters are a bit more difficult to differentiate. If they were victims of violent deaths, I would want to emphasize this more. I like the direction that 4th Edition took, making them appear less composed and more chaotic. If they are so wrapped in rage and hatred, it would make sense to have their spirit forms reflect this. Maybe their eyes glow, too?

While I like the appearance of wraiths (from previous editions, that is), the idea of them being spirits bound to complete or guard something does not really convey that idea. Why not represent this angle with bracers, shackles (that either trail off or drag on the ground), runes circling their heads, or searing writing on their skin indicative of their contract?

Wandering Monsters: The Ancient Dead

Wandering Monsters continues its undead theme, this time with mummies and liches.

MUMMIES

Right off the bat I am not liking that they serve as guardians of eeevil. What if someone volunteers? What if an entire culture is actually okay with this? What if being turned into a mummy to protect something (or someone) is considered an honor? Does undead really need to be automatically evil (until I guess Eberron brings back good-aligned, positive energy-charged undead)? I do like the curse aspect. I do not recall if 2nd Edition mummies rolled like that, but this provides some easy adventure hooks.

I like everything about the mummy lord-especially being able to mummify those that they kill–except for the 9th-level cleric prereq. Why even have a prereq at all? In 3rd Edition the mummy lord was simply a mummy with 10 cleric levels, but I do not see why we need to stick to that. Just make the mummy a template and let us give them as many levels as we want, from whatever we want. This way we could have super tough guardian mummies with fighter levels, or specially trained mummy assassins (for those that served Zehir).

What about a mummy wizard whose linen is a bunch of scrolls?

LICHES 

As with the mummy lord, I do not like the minimum wizard level to get the ball rolling. It works out fine for a sample lich or recommendation, but not as a hard prereq. Again, this would work better as a kind of template, preferably with a variety of powers so we can avoid supplements with alternative liches (or make them easier to incorporate).

While I am fine with the classic stuff regarding the phylactery, I do like the ability to possess over creatures and the flavor on memories (especially the bit on using them against it). Both have the potential to add in some good adventure hooks and interesting twists. 

In both cases the good outweighs the bad, I would just prefer to see templates and the level restriction removed.

Wandering Monsters: The Walking Dead

Undead make great dungeon fodder; they are easy to justify in the dungeon setting, and there are lots of low-level choices to work with. While a lot are unintelligent, even the smart ones tend to be evil so as an added plus you do not have to feel guilty for hacking them apart (though you still might for the looting part).

The only bone I have to pick with the skeleton is its Charisma score (though Intelligence could stand to take a dive, too). The article states that since it lacks any sense of self, it has a Charisma of 3. This is the lowest that an actual character can roll, and while there are a variety of interpretations the lack of any sense of self is not one of them. I would drop it down to 1, the same as it was in 3rd Edition.

Zombies get a clean break on this one. Though I enjoyed the Zombie Weakness trait from 4th Edition (they die on a crit, which is representative of a “head shot”), it does not make sense given that they are not alive.

One thing that is absent from the article is the default alignment of skeletons and zombies (as well as other mindless undead). In 2nd Edition they were just slated as neutral, which made sense given the inability to make an informed choice. I mean, is a golem commanded to kill everyone evil? Is an animated object? 3rd Edition changed this up by making them neutral evil despite a complete lack of intelligence, which caused several extensive threads on the WotC forums back in the day (though 4th Edition brought them back to unaligned).

I remember in 2nd and 3rd Edition how you would turn into a ghoul if you were killed by one. This was changed in Revised, so that they would instead infect you with a disease (ghoul fever), meaning that survivors of ghoul attacks might die anyway and transform into one (which was more inline with zombie movies). This made more sense to me, as ghoul victims were more than likely going to be eaten anyway.

Checking past editions I could not find anything mentioning how the original Dungeons & Dragons ghouls came to be, and while ghouls begetting ghouls is a classic, I find the idea of ghouls-as-cursed-humans to be more interesting (and fresh). I would even go so far as to suggest some ghouls being able to take the shape of the last person they ate (as in both Arabian folklore and The Dresden Files).

Conceptually the vampire hits all the right points for me, which given their treatment in recent editions was to be expected.  Hopefully I will get to run Expedition to Castle Ravenloft this edition. Eh, maybe I will convert it when we the level cap hits 10.