The most featuresome nuance of this week was that we didn’t play anything at all — both my Monday and Thursday games got cancelled. Also in unrelated news, my fingers are stiff from moving a piano from location A to location B, so writing’s a chore. Still, that’s not the reason for why this is the “undead week”.
Hannilus D&D lab dun a monster
The combination of new Discord servers and new creative projects has brought about a situation where we’ve spent a fair bit of time this summer, mainly I and Teemu, doing random old school D&D technical development at rpg club Hannilus. The motivation relates to our separate on-going campaigns that tend to make use of similar gaming materials. I like Teemu’s jive in this area, it feels like we can talk about some rather complex creative ideas, stuff that interweaves literary and wargamey concerns with historical D&D material. Being at all intelligible to another person while this deep in the rabbit hole isn’t at all given, so I’ve enjoyed it a lot.
Aside from extensive work on high-level character development rules (“aspirational” as I like to call it, on account of nobody actually playing at those levels) we’ve brushed on all kinds of fun ideas. Because I don’t have a better feature topic (or any content, really) for this newsletter, I think I’ll just tell you about our latest creation, a new D&D monster that came up while doing an exegesis on an old standby, the Banshee. As Teemu is running Mystara in his home game and I’m doing Coup de Main in Greyhawk, the very Gygaxian, very old-TSR style undead critter we developed is appropriate for both campaigns. But first, a bit of background.
The Gygaxian ecology of undeath
Here’s a list of the core undead critters of Gygaxian D&D, with margin notes by yours truly:
| HD | Monster | Intelligent | Corporeal | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Skeleton | No | Corporeal | Basic fodder undead, mainly relevant for being generic and easy to create. |
| 2 | Zombie | No | Corporeal | Tougher and slower than Skellies. In our local tradition they are also significantly stronger so as to justify their existence as a distinct critter. |
| 2 | Ghoul | Maybe? | Corporeal | The animalistic cunning and paralyzing touch make these the pinch hitters in the undead peewee league. Also distinct cannibalism theme. |
| 3 | Shadow | No | Ghosty | A low-level variant of Wraith, it seems to me; not extremely relevant for anything in itself, sometimes you just want a wraith that doesn’t one-shot beginning adventurers. |
| 4 | Wight | Maybe? | Corporeal | Corporeal negative energy being. Weapon immunity, energy drain. Stock heavy hitter, the default chassis for a “death knight”. |
| 4 | Ghast | Yes | Corporeal | Nauseating stench aura, otherwise as ghoul. MM: “These creatures are so like ghouls as to be completely indistinguishable from them.” |
| 5 | Wraith | Yes | Ghosty | The MM description is pretty much just “like Wight, except more so”. In actuality incorporeal spooky ghost, which encourages non-feral ghosty characterization over the “ancient king” thing that wights often have going. |
| 6 | Mummy | Yes | Corporeal | Super-strength, fear aura, weapon immunity, a questionable-utility rotting touch. Mysterious divine association to hang specific ideas on, otherwise mainly relevant as a major undead vanilla chassis. |
| 7 | Spectre | Yes | Ghosty | Incorporeal, energy drain. Basically just a stronger Wraith, nothing of particular interest beyond that. |
| 8 | Vampire | Yes | Corporeal | The superhero of the undead world, with wide variety of funky powers and weaknesses and complex mythology of its own. Less of an undead team player, often encountered outside the hierarchy. |
| 10 | Ghost | Yes | Ghosty | The top-tier incorporeal type. Aging/fear aura, possession, aging touch. As with other ghosty types, not very interesting — you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. Even the name is the common English noun for incorporeal spirits… |
| 11+ | Lich | Yes | Corporeal | An undead high-tier Magic-User. Fear aura, paralyzing death touch, all undead immunities, respawning from its horcrux, but the real point is the archmage’s spell load turned to evil purposes. |
(My definition of “core” here is that they exist in the Cleric turning tables and the AD&D Monster Manual. Long-time players know what I mean, even in a world of endless imagination and redundant knock-off monsters.)
Gygaxian D&D tends to treat the undead as a bit of a tribe or family in that they often hang together, a bit like the evil humanoids (another ever-green dungeon filler class) do. The HD spread and the Cleric turning table makes them seem like a hierarchy of sorts, although there’s no general promotion scheme. While you could imagine different worlds as well, in the D&D world the energy metaphysics make it so that undead rarely cooperate with living beings, and usually congregate together.
While the above list is already highly abbreviated in that it leaves it all sorts of later additions to the monster corpus, as well as various near-undead or pseudo-undead critters, I discover a need to streamline it further for my own purposes: the list involves several filler creatures related to the general AD&D level inflation (a phenomenon familiar from other monster types) that I’d prefer dealing with as elite variations of the base critter. Here’s a list revised down to essentials:
| HD | Monster | Intelligent | Corporeal | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1–2 | Walking Dead | No | Corporeal | The basic variety is “Skeleton”, the 2 HD elite variant is “Zombie”, but it’s probably better to think of these in terms of potency of their evil animation than as distinct types of creature; the “does it have flesh” thing is ultimately a non-essential distraction. A 3 HD “Juju Zombie” probably pushes the upper envelope of what is possible in this category. |
| 2–3 | Ghoul | Feral | Corporeal | Our local tradition seems to run two varieties, with the stronger the “true Ghoul”. The Ghast is an elite 5 HD version, too; a sort of high priest of necrophagy. |
| 4 | Wight | Feral | Corporeal | Deserves separate consideration due to distinct metaphysical nature compared to the above. I would rank a “death knight” (an armed and more intelligent wight) at 5 HD, easy enough. |
| 5 | Wraith | Yes | Ghosty | The basic chassis for the evil incorporeal spirit monster. The minion-grade variant is called “Shade”, and there’s no doubt higher HD variations, but I don’t feel the need to bust out the thesaurus to index them separately. |
| varies | Mummy | Yes | Corporeal | Probably best understood as an elite or completed type of Wight, although there are other ways to go. Either way, distinct enough to justify being listed as a consideration in the major undead typology. |
| varies | Vampire | Yes | Corporeal | Obviously still listed; this is the gold standard of what a major undead monster (arguably: any major monster) should be, a creature with a rich mythology and varied profile of capabilities that need to be accounted for far beyond the immediate battlefield. The “vampire spawn” should probably be 4 HD. |
| varies | Lich | Yes | Corporeal | Yes. |
So that’s a bit neater, easier to encompass as a framework. When we discuss the D&D undead, we’re basically talking about
walking dead (reanimation dross),
ghouls (semi-living necrophages),
wights (“true undead” in a certain sense of purity),
evil spirits (wraiths and whatnot)
and a variety of “greater undead” with complex, unique mythologies and power sets. The HD values, as well as Cleric turning difficulties (insofar as you feel it necessary for those two to differ from each other) are something of a distraction in that the different types of undead don’t have anything inherently to do with each other; they seem to accidentally form something of a scaling HD stair of potency, but I wouldn’t read too much into that aside from an indication of the rough power-level of the critter in question.
So that’s the starting point when we get around to considering the odd man (woman) out, namely the Groaning Spirit: the Monster Manual lists the Groaning Spirit (Banshee), and it’s clearly an undead creature that just so happens to not be listed on the Turn Undead table. It’s not unique in this regard, of course, depending on what you think fits into the category of “undead”.
Here are the important points on the Banshee as it’s known in the Monster Manual:
HD: 7
Intelligent: Yes
Corporeal: Ghosty
Charm Points: wraith stuff, keening wail
A typical ghosty sort the MM is peppered with anyway, right? The keening wail is a pretty distinctive thing, though, and of course “Banshee” is a very specific folklore idea, much more so than “Spectre” or other similar ghost-by-yet-another-name critters in the manual. The “spirit of an evil female elf” definition is interestingly specific in the D&D elfdwarf fantasy context, too. The HD count is inflated, I’d say, but that tends to be true for almost all monsters created for AD&D; you wouldn’t expect the humble Will-o-Wisp to feature a comical 9 HD, for example.
We could say that the Banshee is a greater undead variant Wraith, sure. That makes a fair bit of sense, its relationship to the Wraith would be a bit like the Mummy is to the Wight. I’m not sure if I buy the 7 HD claim overall, though; it doesn’t quite fit the literary idea of the Banshee to my mind for it to be quite so powerful. Or let’s rather say, that’s not the direction our recent brainstorming has gone on it; define the Banshee as the undead mistress of the dark fae, with the best bits of the original Irish myths, and I’m all for the “greater undead” interpretation — it stands up fairly well against e.g. the Mummy in comparison.
I’ve also seen extremist ideas like the Banshee actually being a fairy rather than undead, but that seems like an overly literal reading of an extremely hacky literary corpus; basing my choices about what to consider “undead” on the accident of what GG happened to list in the turn undead table, ignoring all the circumstantial evidence, doesn’t make much sense.
It happens to be the case that there’s a Banshee in the Temple of Elemental Evil, and as Teemu’s campaign went and encountered it, we got to discussing the specific nature of the Banshee. Let’s see what came of that.
Some monster write-ups
First, the Banshee. This draws heavily on our recent metaphysical work surrounding the nature of soul and spirit, the mechanics of divine magic and whatnot.
Banshee
HD: 3
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Intelligence: Probably insane
Armor Class: incorporeal
Attacks: Fear aura, chilling touch (1d8), keening wail ([HD]d8 AoE, save for half)
Utilities: converted elf magic, spirit nature
Appropriated from Irish folklore and taken through the D&D mythmangle, the D&D Banshee is the vengeful spirit of an elven maiden, a sort of potent grudge wraith. Elves naturally become unbodied spirits upon death and mix with the positive energy currents of the Life Stream, reincarnating into nature, which gives rise to the Banshee phenomenon: the grief of a dying elf maid may potentially puncture a portal to the negative energy plane and turn the elf spirit into its negative energy equivalent. This “spirit conversion” event prevents comingling with the Life Stream and empowers the Banshee to rise in vengeance, but also twists and shreds the mind of the elf such that almost all Banshees retain little but their hatred from their former existence.
While the Banshee is an incorporeal undead, it’s not actually related or similar to a Wraith; the latter are formed from twisted human souls, while elves do not have souls at all. As a negative energy duplicate of the original elf spirit, the Banshee retains reverse versions of any elf magic they had in life, and remains capable of growing and learning as a spirit the same way an elf would, although the lack of sanity caused by the traumatic spirit conversion will probably curtail most Banshees in this regard.
Dark elves have developed magical techniques that enable them to use negative energy spirit magic despite being positive energy soul beings themselves, so there’s some obvious synergy between dark elves and the Banshee.
Being spirits, Banshee are resistant to non-magical weapons and capable of transferring to the Ethereal Plane. The Banshee’s body and emotional foci are considered spirit anchors that protect it from Turning. The Banshee comes into existence at the moment of the elf’s death, inside the dead corpse, and usually cannot be directly perceived. The newly-created Banshee makes a variety of saves and whatnot to determine how insane they go, and will probably spend 2d6 days paralyzed inside the body before pulling sufficiently together to start their rampage.
Ancient elven civilization is probably very aware of the general nature of the Banshee phenomenon, and is likely fundamentally opposed to the creation of Banshees for various reasons I imagine are mostly obvious. Two main cultural phenomena are typical in combating Banshee creation:
Cultural taboo: Elves will avoid discussing the idea of the Banshee, the nature of the Banshee and the specific magical manner of its creation. If the subject has to be treated, it is done by the men, the elders and the wise — those considered least likely to turn into Banshees themselves. The goal is, of course, to prevent the creation of more Banshee borne out of elven grief.
Burial by flame: Elves prefer to burn their bodies in general, but it is considered particularly apt as the funeral of a maiden taken before her time. The reasoning is not generally understood (see the taboo above), but the wise will know that the intent is to destroy the Banshee before it begins wandering after its vengeance. Holy flames (like holy water) consume the negative spirit hiding within the body, unless the delirious spirit manages to instinctively escape into the deep Ethereal (border Ethereal is, of course, not enough), which means getting lost for indefinite time — a result almost as good for society as would be the outright destruction of the evil spirit.
Chatting about the Banshee metaphysics, and particularly how similar creatures to the Banshee could be borne out of different circumstances, I came up with the following new monster:
Wendigo
HD: 9
Alignment: Chaotic Evil
Intelligence: Probably insane
Armor Class: as frozen corpse unheeding of injury
Attacks: Fear aura, major beast claw-claw-bite routine, paralyzing touch, madness wail
Utilities: converted elf magic, spirit nature, detect alignment/fear/lies/faith (by scent), possession
Appropriated from Algonquin folklore and taken through the D&D mythmangle, the Wendigo is a greater undead elf spirit of a nature similar to the Banshee: whereas a Banshee is an avenging spirit of largely spontaneous creation, the Wendigo is a product of ritual magic, created by an elven magician as an intentional act of spirit conversion. It is, essentially, an Elven equivalent of the Lich. The Wendigo-to-be has to be an Elf, but the ritual magician technically speaking does not need to be. A Banshee could theoretically become a Wendigo (or its equivalent in might, anyway) by natural strengthening of its spirit.
The ritual creation of the Wendigo involves magical delimination (a magic circle), a specially consecrated black rock the Wendigo applicant needs to hold as the negative energy portal is opened (think Pokemon evolution stone), a complex magical chant performed flawlessly, and the fundamental transgression of social law (traditionally cannibalism). The difficulty of learning and executing the ritual is comparable to a 6th level Druid spell. The spell can alternatively be laid as a non-ritual curse on an unwilling elf, in which case the curse triggers when and if the receiver commits the specified transgression at a later date — essentially save-or-Wendigo, if you will.
The Wendigo is essentially an incorporeal spirit, but it preferably presents with a body: its body is unliving the same way a Wight’s is, animated by negative energy the same way natural life is animated by positive energy. The body allows the Wendigo to engage in its sin, the transgression utilized in its creation; while Wendigo is reputed to be “less insane” than a Banshee (a bit of misogyny won’t spoil an evil brew here), in reality they are highly obsessed with the type of transgression that was utilized in the ritual.
The Wendigo body is malnourished, and can only be sated by its transgression. Engaging the transgression enables the body to grow (extra hit points, bulk) more mighty akin to a dark beast of the woods. A Wendigo in its original body cannot be Turned or Circled or otherwise harmed due to its spirit nature. The Wendigo spirit is capable of discarding a body and possessing another one, but only the body of a person who has committed the transgression. A Wendigo body buried in the ground will taint the spot of its burial, causing it to slowly become a cursed place.
The most common extraordinary abilities of the Wendigo are summoning ghouls (if cannibalistic), paralyzing touch (ditto), a wail of madness and scenting Alignment/lies/faith/truth. They preserve the negative-energy equivalents of any elf magic they had in life; if the Wendigo cast its own ritual of spirit conversion, it is presumably a powerful druid (operating off negative energy instead of positive) as well. Similar to how vampires are ascribed with all kinds of wacky powers, I encourage personalizing Wendigos as well, particularly if their origins are in something other than cannibalism.
Anybody partaking of the Wendigo’s transgression, slain by the Wendigo, becomes a Banshee-like lesser Wendigo. This can apply to sapient non-elves with spirit nature (including humans), making this the only way for a non-Elf to become one of these critters. The lesser Wendigo lacks most of the Wendigo’s special qualities, and only gets the Banshee wail if they died as a grieving maiden, but all the evil magic cruft can be developed in time.
Akin to the Banshee, the Wendigo spirit is anchored and protected from diffusion in part by the collective subconscious of elvenkind. This is why the Wendigo trashes out in the woods, roaring “Wendigo! Wendigo!” like a demended Pokemon: it desires your fear and acknowledgement.
I think the reason why I find the Wendigo so fun is that it feels like a Gygaxian monster stylistically (appropriated from real-life myth, turned into a dungeon fantasy thing), but in a good way; it seems like it fits well in the “greater undead” niche alongside mummies and vampires and such, while bringing its own mythology and specific strategic concerns. D&D has gained many high-level undead monsters over the years, but they’re often very grotesque and, well, crude.
This little banshee-wendigo myth cycle is obviously somewhat specific to the orthodox D&D elf context, but that’s how it goes sometimes. I’m sure that anybody running non-standard cosmology can also adapt the ideas as they will.
The no-game week
This was a strange week for me in that we didn’t have any games at all: first the Coup de Main in Greyhawk session on Monday got cancelled for lack of players, and then on Thursday we skipped the Varangian Way playtest to let Petteri pack for his cabin weekend in peace.
I guess that’s how it goes sometimes. I’m also apparently psychic, as I just created an advertisement for the Coup campaign last week in an effort to attract a few more players. As it is now, we’re running with a skeleton crew, so any single player having to skip the session ends up with us calling it off.
I suppose that I could prepare for low player counts with some solo adventures suited for low numbers of players. That’d be smart, there’s no particular reason outside customary habit for why old school D&D can’t run on just a 1+1 crew.
Session #14 of the Coup is scheduled for tomorrow, Monday 14.9., starting around 15:00 UTC. Feel free to stop by if you’re interested in trying the game out or simply seeing what it’s like.
Cultural Saloon Summary
I’ll just combine my haunts here, as I haven’t had much time for chatting recently.
- I heard at the club that the rpg hobby lacks any sort of established terminology for describing the content and nature of play. This may be the case, but it’s not so much that there aren’t many words available out there, but rather that the casual hobbyist in roleplaying is no more capable of learning and using the terminology as they would be in any other field. Cue an extended comparison to watching movies and how much “New Hollywood” communicates as a label to the average movie-goer. If “New Hollywood”, a perfectly serviceable descriptor for a specific style of movie-making, doesn’t work in practice, then why would we expect similar to work for roleplaying? The only practical way to communicate about art to the masses is by genre comparison: this thing is similar to that thing you’re already familiar with. And that’s why you communicate about your rpg campaign with wizards, dragons and elves.
- What does it mean when GG describes Ettins as being very orc-like? Ettins are two-headed giants while orcs are man-sized racist stereotypes. My brilliant theory was that Ettins are orc mutants: sometimes orc mothers just give birth to two-headed orc calves. Plenty of nuanced Ettin theory was developed in this discourse, but maybe I’ll discuss the lore some other time.
- What does it mean when your credit card is “captured” in web sales? That sounds scary, but we learned at the Agora that it’s apparently a normal part of the credit card payment sequence: “capture” is the part of the payment process where the bank has released the money to be claimed by the seller, and then the seller takes the money, “captures” it. In case you’re wondering how adults can possibly be confused by this, it’s good to remember that Finland largely skipped the American-style credit card tech in the 20th century; for our generation it’s that quaint thing that you have to sometimes mess with when buying things internationally, so we’re just not that used to it.
State of the Productive Facilities
Some light at the end of the tunnel, actually — I managed to do some writing on my pile of of essays this week, so we might start seeing progress on that front soon.
Speaking generally, it seems to me like the civilian summer season that disrupts my routines so very much is slowly abating. I’m stuck doing library management for my brother’s over-large geek cruft collection, which seems cause me several weeks of work this summer when all’s said and done, but the worst may be slowly over on that frontier, which may leave me more time to be productive. We’ll see.