Ajekrith, the Nightwing Snatcher
CR: 8 XP: 4,800
CE Medium monstrous humanoid (earth)
Init: +9 Senses: darkvision 60 ft. Perception: +12
Defense
AC: 21, touch 16, flat-footed 21 (+1 armor, +1 deflection, +5 Dex,, +4 natural)
HP: 63 (5d10+4d8+18)
Fort: +4 Ref: +13 Will: +5
Defensive Abilities: evasion, trap sense +1, uncanny dodge
DR: 10/magic
Offense
Speed: 40 ft., fly 60 ft. (average)
Melee: 2 claws +13 (1d6+5), bite +13 (1d4+5), gore +13 (1d4+5)
Special Attacks: bleeding attack, sneak attack +2d6, surprise attacks
Statistics
Str: 18 Dex: 20 Con: 14 Int: 9 Wis: 10 Cha: 8
Base Atk: +8 CMB: +12 CMD: 28
Feats: Flyby Attack, Hover, Improved Initiative, Skill Focus (Fly), Skill Focus (Stealth)
Skills: Acrobatics +13 (+17 to jump), Bluff +7, Escape Artist +13, Fly +20, Intimidate +7, Knowledge (local) +6, Perception +12, Stealth +21 (+27 in stony areas), Racial Modifiers +2 Stealth (+6 in stony and urban areas)
SQ: freeze, trapfinding
Languages: Common, Terran
Gear: amulet of mighty fists +1, bracers of armor +1, ring of protection +1, masterwork thieves’ tools, 1, 274 gp worth of coins, gems, and jewelry
Description
Male gargoyle rogue 4
Before Combat: Ajekrith enjoys perching among carved stone gargoyles and other city decorations, blending in and observing all who pass by. He sometimes waits above an alley or entrance to a spooky church, relying on stealth to give him an advantage against an unsuspecting victim.
During Combat: Ajekrith prefers to ambush lone prey, silently tracking his target from above. When a choice moment presents itself, he swoops down with a flyby sneak attack. Once a victim is bleeding, Ajekrith pulls back and follows his prey from a distance until it collapses from blood loss. Against foes who fight back, Ajekrith uses Flyby Attack to stay out of range of his opponents’ weapons. He only lands to make full attacks if he thinks he can quickly put an opponent out of commission.
Morale: Ajekrith flees if reduced to below 20 hit points, to nurse his wounds and plot his revenge.
Freeze (Ex) A gargoyle can hold itself so still it appears to be a statue. A gargoyle that uses freeze can take 20 on its Stealth check to hide in plain sight as a stone statue.
Pathfinder Chronicles: Classic Horrors Revisited There upon the house stairs stood the lady in question herself— more a thing of aether and ectoplasm than skin and substance. Still clad in a gown befitting a queen of the ladies of the night, her ivory skin shimmered in spectral translucence, the suggestive curves of her shoulders sweeping upward to a neck wearing gore like a ruby choker—and nothing more! Outstretched in a delicate claw, gripped unceremoniously by a shock of ephemeral hair, swung the lady’s misplaced head, her beguiling features darkened by the sight of vistas unknowable. Slowly she descended, her every spectral step heralded by a grave note from the towering salon clock’s invocation of the eleventh hour—exactly the time Boles had conjectured the house mistress had been so thoroughly finished.
—Ailson Kindler, Steps Upon the Sanguine Stair Chapter Four Ghost Ghost B eyond the world of mortals lies a realm of spirits, an unknowable reach forbidden to all but departed souls and the guardians and gaolers of that fantastic and terrible realm. Death alone serves as both gate and key to this eternity, a supposedly one-way passage from which few return. Yet for some, even the laws of existence prove insufficient to drive them from the realm of the living, with injustice, delusion, fury, or fear compelling them to cling to the fleeting tendrils of their failing lives. In states of boundless sorrow or deathless malice, such spirits linger on, no longer kin to the quick, but death given an impression of thought and form, dire witnesses at the door to beyond—ghosts of the living. With indescribable forms and myriad intentions, the wayward souls of those recently felled and long forgotten wreak their wills upon the mortal world, seeking to compel or terrorize the living with their undeniable ambitions. While the legends of ages spread stories of unquiet spirits, perhaps no tales prove so diverse and haunting as those of the disembodied dead, and what dread intentions they hold for the living.
Necrology More than merely wayward souls cast from the cycle of eternity by random chance, the vast majority of ghosts manifest for a purpose—whether one of their own desires or born from the method of their deaths. So-called “ghost stories” often tell of souls lingering upon the mortal world in an attempt to put right some injustice—typically whatever evil led to their deaths—or to prevent some terrible fate. Yet the circumstances leading to the appearance of a ghost need not be so iconic. Although the mysteries of death may never be fully understood by mortals, the most significant requisite in a ghost’s appearance seems to be extraordinary circumstances of trauma surrounding its death. Such a condition need not be a torturous murder or a violent betrayal—the knowledge of a great responsibility or the jeopardized life of a loved one can potentially prove sufficient cause to compel a soul to linger on past its physical capacity. Such leads some scholars of the afterlife to debate whether or not ghosts are truly wayward souls, or rather mere impressions of a single powerful emotion or desire, left as an obsessed copy of a powerful will. Aside from personal determination, extreme circumstances might also lead to the formation of ghosts. Tales of unquiet battlefields, ghostly ships, and whole haunted cities typically arise from some manner of terrible collective ordeal. Such conditions must be exceptionally painful or damaging to the mortal mind, as not every fallen fortress or disaster-scoured community results in some mass haunting. While individual ghosts typically require some measure of personal connection, suffering, or desire to bind them to the land of the living, such is lessened for ghosts created en masse. The shared experience of multitudinous lesser horrors are seemingly significant enough to match the singular distress of a lone spirit, allowing large groups of spirits to manifest due to an incident of extreme shared emotion or disturbance that might not provoke the ghostly manifestation of an individual. While many forms of undeath carry with them some measure of dark appeal, such can never be said of ghosts. Foremost, the transition from life to spirit is mysterious and unreliable, with no known cases of a willing, purposeful transition into this state of unlife being recorded. Adding to this is the typically stagnant condition of the ghostly state. Unlike many varieties of undead, most ghosts are unable to retain new knowledge after their deaths, and even memories of their undead existences seem blurred and timeless. Only in exceedingly rare exceptions have ghosts that defy these truths been encountered, with even those existing for millennia having little impression of the modern age or the gulfs of time since their deaths.
Habitat & Society Encountering a ghost rarely proves as simple as stories of the macabre often imply. Few, for example, care to linger about the monument-dotted graveyards or moldering potter’s fields containing their remains. Such a seeming incongruity is perhaps better understood if one views ghosts as remnants of the living rather than as manifestations of the dead. Typically, ghosts arise near the places they died or at sites to which their lives were connected, with the manors of fallen lords, the vaunted halls of deceased statesmen, and the simple hovels of wayward peasant spirits all holding more connection to the time and meaning of a life than the circumstances of death. To say that a ghost might appear anywhere only slightly hyperbolizes the truth. As noted, a traumatic event and a place of meaning characterize the unlives of most wandering spirits. Beyond these truths, though, nearly any location might give rise to ghostly hauntings. A certain genuineness hides behind the common fear of aged places, crumbling ruins, abandoned residences, and even shadowy attics. Such settings typically hold connections to lives past, whether as the homes of the deceased or repositories of the trappings of past generations, and draw an undeniable weight from the histories, events, and meaningful happenings that transpired within and about them. And with such weight comes the potential for connection, possibly strong enough to draw the spirits of former owners. This is not to imply that ghosts only linger in the dusty places of the world, though. Tales tell of innumerable ghosts with unusual haunts—such as apparitions upon pilgrim roads, the spirits of fallen mountaineers, or the ghostly beasts of ravaged wildernesses—even those that follow the vestiges of their former homes into new dwellings. Only reaches devoid of contact with the living are sure to be entirely free of ghosts, for where the quick tread, their spirits inexorably follow. Despite nearly any place’s potential for a ghost’s appearance, lost spirits are an extreme rarity, for the laws and paths of natural life are powerful beyond the strength of most mortal Pathfinder Chronicles: Classic Horrors Revisited wills and all but the most potent magic to defy. Even those that do appear only do so temporarily, as many circumstances that might draw a soul away from its final rest lose their significance with the passing of time. Souls attempting to protect someone, avenge some wrong, or see a loved one once more typically linger only for a matter of hours or days before their desires are fulfilled and they willingly release their holds on life. The will or dementia that shackles a spirit to the world for ages proves far rarer and born of elaborate circumstances. Thus, while sightings of ghosts or brushes with the dead are relatively common in the folktales of even the smallest communities, actual incidents of an established ghostly resident or continuous haunting prove truly extraordinary. Even in areas where multiple ghosts do arise through the most unusual of circumstances, these spirits typically have no concern for one another, showing little more interest toward the living. In most cases, such undead seek only to interact with those who hold some connection to their former lives, bearing on their deathless existences, or those who somehow interrupt their immortal reveries. For example, the ghost of a murder victim might only interact with those it deems sympathetic to avenging its death, while the spirit of lonesome dowager might only treat with those who resemble her lost ancestors. Even in exceptionally rare cases where multiple ghosts haunt the same area, how such apparitions interact largely reflects their relations in life, with the apparitions of strangers ignoring one another even after centuries of cohabitation and enemies playing out rivalries over endless ages.
Campaign Role Ghosts generally serve GMs in a twofold manner: bluntly as enemies, and in a potentially more elegant form as storytelling devices. As undead foes, ghosts measure among vampires and liches in menace, though less so in terms of scale. Rarely are ghosts unfettered, even though their statistics do not require a place or purpose. While spectres, wraiths, and all manner of similar incorporeal undead make fine spooks and unquiet spirits to menace characters, ghosts imply a greater personality, history, and effort to banish. GMs are thus encouraged to create meaningful histories for these apparitions, as their value stems not from wide-reaching plots or even evil intentions at all, but from the stories inherent in their existences and the conditions that might lead them finally to rest.
As storytelling devices, ghosts serve as exceptionally useful links between the world of the present and the past, and manifestations of the wisdom of the realm of the dead as it might affect the lands of the living. Perhaps the ultimate method of “telling” rather than “showing,” a non-combative ghost might frame a tale of woe in no uncertain terms, presenting the ultimate in sympathetic victims—those affected even beyond death. Yet even under the most extreme and seemingly sympathetic conditions, ghosts retain the most strongly held goals and desires of their lives, and not all ghostly ambitions are altruistic or liberating. The trope of ghostly intervention should be carefully utilized, though, as it moves a measure of control and discovery from the PCs’ hands entirely to the GM. Ghosts who guilt the living into doing their will or who possess all knowledge can swiftly feel heavy-handed or lead to lazy, unbelievable storytelling. Ghosts with an imperfect vantage, though, or with goals more mysterious than they at first seem, are typically more interesting, but still should be utilized only rarely so as not to force players into specific actions or to undermine their place in a story’s spotlight.
Varieties of Ghosts Much confusion arises in folktales and legends between the use of the word “ghost” referring to a specific type of undead and as a generalization for all ethereal undead. Aside from Facets of Fear More so than even the dread of death, ghosts embody the eternally unknowable, and the irreconcilable fear of the afterlife. Among the oldest of humanity’s fears, the question of what occurs after one’s last breath has been addressed by philosophers, theologians, and storytellers since prehistory. Finding evidence lacking, nearly every approach to the question suggests some manner of life after death, each such answer proving from one vantage comforting and, from another, singularly terrifying. The concept of one’s flesh being possessed by a greater, spiritual self that goes on to life again—whether in reward or punishment, in this world again or on one wholly new—inspires more than just tales of the afterlife, but of spirits that fail to move past the mortal world, whether by cosmic accident or undying intention. Thus, one of the oldest literary and folkloric traditions, the ghost story, is born.
Aside from being intrinsically fearful creatures themselves—unnatural, disembodied manifestations of the dead—ghosts possess a deeper horror in the questions concerning their reasons for existence and intentions toward the living. Rarely do spirits forgo the afterlife without great cause, giving spirits typically dire motivations. The ghost that seeks to avenge its death, to right some injustice, to torment its murderer, or to lay claim to that which it eternally views as its own all occur again and again in the folklore and literature of dozens of cultures. To aid them in their dire goals, ghosts draw upon strange powers of the dead and the afterlife, manifesting a wide range of supernatural powers from intense cold to possession of bodies or items, moving or destroying objects, unnaturally changing their environment, or even wilder and stranger effects. The ghostly traditions of different cultures also have widely different explanations and descriptions of ghosts and their powers, making such spirits among the most variable and unpredictable of all undead.
Ghost ghosts, numerous disembodied undead exist, just a smattering of the most common being noted here.
Allips: Few fates could be more horrifying than having a life of fear and suffering end, only to find another existence of such torment stretching into eternity. Such is the doom of allips, the mad dead. Souls of the insane too hate-crazed and vicious to find their ways to the afterlife, these shades blather endlessly, spouting profanities and demented tirades from forms stripped of all mortal reason, reduced to nightmarish hallucinations themselves.
Shadows: Little more than impressions of wickedness, shadows are the souls of petty villains too fearful of their eternal punishments to pass on to the outer planes, yet too weak-willed to manifest as greater undead. Cursed to wander the darkened places of the world, these pathetic spirits become scavengers of life, sapping vitality from the living in a hopeless attempt to reclaim even an impression of their forgotten lives.
Spectres: While ghosts take on a fearful variety of forms for all manner of traumatic reasons, instances of extreme violence and hatred often give rise to a lesser form of spirit: spectres, souls of rage. Compelled to linger upon the mortal plane by their fury, these vicious spirits seek to revenge themselves upon all living creatures, violently afflicting others with their own terrible condition. The light of the sun weakens spectres, forcing them into dark, dismal haunts that only further fuel their loathing for life in all its forms.
Wraiths: The souls of exceptionally malevolent individuals, wraiths are manifestations of true evil. They torment the living not out of any particular desire or rampant emotion, but in the indulgence and sadistic enjoyment of malice for malice’s sake. Those that intrude upon their darkened realms risk falling victim to their deadly touch, a freezing grip that drains the vital energy from the living until all that’s left is an ashen husk and a pathetic soul enslaved to the wraith’s cruel whims.
Ghostly Corruptions Just as the reasons for ghostly materialization differ wildly, so too do the abilities manifested by the disembodied dead. Upon creating a ghost, GMs choose from a range of special attacks, each representative of the spirit’s cause of death or undead intentions. Presented here are a variety of additional special attacks, available to further tailor the tales and powers of these lost souls. As with all other ghostly abilities, the DCs for these special attacks are equal to 10 + 1/2 the ghost’s HD + the ghost’s Charisma modifier.
Deathly Delusion (Su): The ghost died suddenly or unexpectedly. Not even realizing it’s dead, this spirit goes about the routines of its daily life, ignoring the living in a state of undead denial. Should a ghost with this ability pass through the square of a living being, that creature must make a Will save or fall into a fitful sleep full of nightmares that aren’t its own for 1d4 minutes. For a number of following nights equal to the ghost’s Charisma modifier, the victim must make an additional Will save or be affected as per the spell nightmare. (CR +0)
Fatal Fate (Su): The ghost died with some work undone or desire unfulfilled. In its desire to see its efforts completed, once per day, a ghost can lay a compulsive curse upon the living, forcing them to either take up its work or face a terrible end. A ghost can lay this curse by making a touch attack, which forces the target to make a Will save or be stunned for 1 round. During this round, the target receives a flood of images suggesting a course of action—though such might remain vague or require research into the ghost’s history to discern an exact meaning. The target has a number of days to fulfill the ghost’s intentions equal to 14 days minus the ghost’s Charisma modifier, to a minimum of 7 days. If the target does not fulfill the course of action suggested by the vision within this set period, he takes 1d4 points of Constitution drain per day. This effect can be overcome via the spell remove curse, requiring a caster level check with a DC equal to this effect’s initial DC. (CR +0)
Frightener (Su): The ghost’s unique personality manifests even in death. The ghost gains a number of spell-like abilities equal to its Charisma modifier. It may select these abilities from the following list: animate rope, chill metal, control undead, dancing lights, entangle, faerie fire, fog cloud, ghost sound, heat metal, hideous laughter, invisibility, minor image, open/close, pyrotechnics, scare, sleep, spiritual weapon, soften earth and stone, summon swarm, warp wood, or whispering wind. A ghost may use each of these abilities 3 times per day. The DCs are 10 + spell level + the ghost’s Charisma modifier. (CR +0)
Grave Trappings (Su) The ghost died with a strong attachment to a specific item or set of objects. A ghost with this ability may choose a number of items it died with equal to its Charisma modifier to carry with it into death. The ghost continues to be able to use and benefit from these spectral Pathfinder Chronicles: Classic Horrors Revisited duplicates just as though they were the real things. Weapons and armor are treated as having the ghost touch special ability, while other items act as being incorporeal themselves and can be manipulated by the ghost. Regardless of the type of object, all selected items are treated as being part of the ghost’s form and cannot be disarmed or removed from the ghost (even by the ghost). Should a ghost be destroyed, its equipment reappears with it upon rejuvenating. (CR +0) Occasionally, and at the GM’s discretion, the transition into death might imbue a single ghostly item with strange powers, granting it powers comparable to a magic item suited to the ghost’s character level.
Phantasmagoria (Su): The ghost died as a victim of its own delusions or folly. A number of times per day equal to the ghost’s Charisma modifier, the ghost can create an elaborate illusion. This illusion functions similarly to the spell mirage arcana in combination with multiple major images, allowing the ghost to recreate any scene, setting, or characters it wishes. The ghost can even incorporate itself into the effect, appearing as it wishes within the illusion as if it were under the effects of alter self. The entire illusion can be disbelieved with a Will save. The illusion is treated as a 6th-level spell created by a caster with a level equal to the ghost’s CR. If any part of the illusion is dispelled, the entire illusion fades. (CR +0)
Reinvigoration (Su): The ghost died in the throes of a terrible fear, and is desperate for any way to escape its fate, both perceived and actual. Once per round a ghost can possess an adjacent corpse, merging with the remains and reanimating them as a skeleton or zombie. The skeleton or zombie animated by this ability may be no higher than the ghost’s CR minus 2. If the animated corpse is destroyed, the ghost reappears in the corpse’s square and cannot possess another body for 1d4 rounds. (CR +0)
Vehemence (Su): A ghost with a powerful connection to a specific location gains a measure of mastery over the objects in that place. Once per round, a ghost can possess an object of size Large or smaller, giving it life as an animated object. This animated object’s CR can be no higher than the ghost’s CR minus 2. If the target object is being held by a creature, the object can make a Will save using its bearer’s saving throw to resist possession. If the animated object is destroyed, the ghost reappears in its square and cannot possess another object for 1d4 rounds. (CR +0) Known Ghosts All manner of geists and apparitions linger in the dark, ancient, and mysterious places of Golarion. A handful of some of the best-known local ghosts follows.
Coath, The Wight Whale: Tales along the eastern coast of Garund have long told of Coath, the Black Whale, a murderous leviathan that seemed to take umbrage at man’s incursion into its watery realm. For years, the gigantic, dusky whale roamed the seas and brought ruin to even the best-armed vessels, typically under the cover of starless night. Finally, whalers from Ilizmagorti managed to coax the beast into a stretch of sandy shallows, and with blade, poison, and great loss of life finally laid the monster low. Soon after, a gigantic ghost of radiant darkness was spotted near Mediogalti Island, seeming to circle the vast landmass in search of land-bound prey, with several able ships disappearing soon after. Claimed by pirates to be the vengeful spirit of that hateful sea beast Coath, many sailors of Ilizmagorti fear to travel on moonless nights, when the sea proves darker and the stars less bright, out of fear of what they call the Wight Whale, the king of the stormy seas returned to take revenge on not just its killers, but all who sail.
Lord Carnavy Trous: In life, the good-natured Lord Trous straddled Oppara’s social and scholarly world, being a gentleman antiquarian of some repute. The third son of a minor noble family, he filled his sumptuous home with room upon room of bookshelves, creating a maze-like library mansion. When Trous finally took a wife (late in life and at his family’s insistence), Lady Sharrine Lemmor, it was for show and entirely loveless. Lemmor, a vain and moody woman, demanded Carnavy dote on her, giving him little peace and coming to resent his historical pursuits. In her instability and bitterness, it was little problem to murder her husband by crushing him under a stack of his beloved tomes. In death, however, the timid nobleman found himself free of the demands of standing and courtesy, taking to haunting his terrible former wife with zeal. The Trous Manor, a half-day’s travel from Oppara, is now a deadly trap of winding halls and shifting tomes wherein lurk the thoroughly insane Lady Sharrine Lemmor and the spirit of her vengeful husband. Ordellia Whilwren: Tales in the Varisian city of Magnimar tell of the ghost of one of the city’s first leaders, Mistress Ordellia Whilwren, who aided in establishing friendly relations between the fledgling city and the region’s Varisian wanderers. Magnimarians have long claimed that during poor fishing seasons, at the threat of war, or when the people seem lost, a vision of the dead leader appears upon the towering Arvensoar, her comforting ghost often leaving some token to aid the city through its need, such as a historical relic or an encouraging Harrow card. The sightings and tokens often serve to hearten the people and comfort the city with the knowledge that the spirits of the past still watch over their descendents. Sample Ghost From the taprooms and firesides of Galt comes the tale of the spirit known as Maven Mosslight. A modest maiden from an esteemed family, she led a fairytale life that fell under the shadow of a careless romance. Smitten with Lord Reneis Whitchaste, Maven confessed her intentions to tame his wandering ways. To her downfall, one who heard her avowal was the lowborn and envious servant Sylnia, a maid Ghost in Maven’s family’s employ who physically resembled the young lady. Long obsessing over Lord Whitchaste herself, Sylnia coaxed Maven into inviting the nobleman on a secret spring dalliance. As the women traveled by skiff to the twilit rendezvous, Sylnia remarked on the fairy-like fish that seemed to guide their craft. Raising her lantern to see the fictitious creatures, Maven never saw the hefted oar her servant brought crashing down upon her, sending her headlong into the murky river.
Under the pretense of being Maven, Sylnia met and eloped with Lord Whitchaste that very night, the dastard never knowing the ruse. Maven’s body was never discovered, but for decades since, a soggy soul has wandered the mossy shores of the Boarwood, a mournful maiden with a lantern who ever seeks a lost love and leads all perceived imposters to a watery grave.
Source: Classic Horrors Revisited, p. 22
