Shielseis, Queen of Asps

exact revenge on her attackers. Base Statistics Without mage armor, Ulla’s stats are as follows: AC 23, touch 13, flat-footed 20. Statistics Str 27, Dex 16, Con 20, Int 11, Wis 13, Cha 16 Base Atk +11; CMB +20; CMD 34 Feats Alertness, Blind-Fight, Cleave, Combat Casting, Eschew Materials, Great Fortitude, Improved Initiative, Intimidating Prowess, Lightning Reflexes, Power Attack Skills Bluff +16, Fly +0, Intimidate +20, Knowledge (arcana) +6, Knowledge (planes) +4, Linguistics +1, Perception +18, Sense Motive +5, Spellcraft +11, Stealth +15 Languages Common, Giant, Hallit, Skald SQ elemental bloodline (water) Combat Gear potion of cure serious wounds (3), potion of fly; Other Gear ring of protection +1, cloak of resistance +1, boots of the winterlands, brooch of shielding (80 charges), large sack, flensing knives, hammer and iron spikes, iron pot, whetstone, block of salt, 300 gp Pathfinder Chronicles: Classic Horrors Revisited And so beauteous was my queen that I refuse to be without her. So beside me forever shall she lie, a sprig amid dust, a lotus among ashes. Though the skies break, and the oceans grow parched, and the moon falls as tears from the skies, forever in our paradise beyond the dawn’s horizon shall we know bounty, and splendor, and serenity. And woe to those who, even in death, would tear us from our endless embrace, for our love will know no mortal distance and our wrath will not come gently. I have promised my queen eternity. And my queen is never denied. —Translated from the empty sarcophagus of Shielseis III, The Queen of Asps Chapter Seven Mummy Mummy I n forgotten tombs and prisons of nature lie the preserved corpses of the ancient and honored dead. From such crypts spring the warnings of scholars and poets, cautionary tales of terrible curses and the vengeance of souls interrupted in their eternal rest. Much has been made of the depredations of the dead, the hunger of those that feast upon the quick and make prey of the living. Yet, in the case of the deathless princes misleadingly generalized as “mummies,” their curses rarely come undeserved and their predations carry the justice of those who themselves have faced the ultimate judgment. The very term “mummy” in reference to the vengeful dead is a gross misnomer. While cultures that practice mummification do often inadvertently aid in such beings’ creation as a result of their preoccupation with the afterlife and the increased importance they place upon physical remains, the spontaneous reanimation of corpses might be witnessed among the ancient dead of numerous societies, including those with no complex burial rites. Unfortunately, terms like “vengeful souls,” “ancient dead,” or “terrestrially obsessed animates” prove misleading in their own rights and far less understood, so the inaccuracy regrettably stands. To a large degree, the confusion regarding mummies relates to the popularization of a single description coupled with the scholarly difficulty in finding uniform physical characteristics between individuals. In other words, one cannot identify a mummy based on linen wrappings alone. Even an undead being that bears no resemblance to a stereotypical enshrouded cadaver might in fact possess the powers and prowess of a mummy. The vagary proves frustrating in research and potentially life-threatening in the field. As countless adventurers can doubtlessly attest, many mummies appear just as popular fiction and theater describe: dry, withered corpses bound in age-haunted wrappings and prayer strips bearing appeals to long-forgotten gods. But not all. Skeletons fleshed in mud and primeval ichor, frozen ancients more beast than man, and corpses buried in the furs of revered chiefs, the holy feathers of high priests, or the jade-inlaid armor of imperial lords—these, too, might all be mummies. Thus, a mere glance cannot be relied upon to identify these undead. Rather, it is by its curse and the vigor by which it wreaks its revenge that a mummy makes itself known. Fortunately, even among the accursed dead, these horrors prove exceptionally rare, as the circumstances necessary for such beings’ resurrection prove elaborate and, in many cases, quite expensive. Also, should one discover a mummy and find himself the target of its wrath, the creature’s immortal ire likely comes deservedly—few such beings make the spiritual return to the mortal world lightly, typically only doing so in response to a trespass or desecration of the most fundamental and vulgar kind. Genesis Like all sentient undead, mummies possess a chthonic vice, one that proves so powerful that it might stretch beyond the veil of natural death. In this case: covetousness. This might seem like a strange distinction, for what undead creature is not possessed by powers or obsessions that act beyond death? Yet in numerous cases involving mummies, the uncovered corpses were not animate upon discovery. No mere trickery, in such situations not only were the remains not animate, but they were not undead before being disturbed. Although research into dark lore reveals that mummies might be created through necromantic magics, those that spontaneously manifest do so as a result of some outside influence—typically the desecration of a burial place, violation of physical remains, or conveyance of some terrible revelation. As such, the attachment between a departed soul and its immortally coveted remains, possessions, or—most intriguingly—philosophies proves so strong that the undermining of these fundaments draws the spirit back across the gulf of mortality to defend that from which its life and death took meaning. What might provoke a mummy’s resurrection varies widely, though cultural generalities exist. The most important requisite appears to be a lifelong preoccupation with death, typically held by an individual and compounded by his society. Populations who believe in the finality of death or the dissolution of the mortal spirit rarely produce mummies. Even believers in more traditional myths of the afterlife and the one-way progression of souls to a final reward or punishment infrequently breed such horrors. Those societies who tie their eternal rewards to the state of their physical remains or other monuments to their lives and believe that departed spirits might return to interact with the living unwittingly inflict a self-fulfilling curse upon themselves. Should one spend an entire life convinced that death does not sever his connection to the mortal realm, a belief compounded by his survivors who seek to elaborately placate his spirit, events that compromise the individual’s interests in the living world make it possible for the soul to return to seek retribution. As such, the animating spirits of mummies retain a fixation on the world of the living, coveting aspects of their long-ended lives far past the point of reason—and prove all the more dangerous for this dementia. Fortunately, just as the resurrection of a mummy might prove swift, so too might its return to peace should the animate corpse or another party restore or correct whatever disturbance provoked the deathless zealots in the first place. Even mummies restored to peace still harbor potential for great danger, though, as once it’s been provoked, time and greed rarely leave a corpse to rest peacefully forever. Aside from mummies obsessed with their past lives, a second classification exists: the cursed. Not drawn back to the world by their own vices, these beings have their undead state forced upon them. In the most basic form, necromantic Pathfinder Chronicles: Classic Horrors Revisited magics empower a corpse with the traits of a mummy, granting such a creature the abilities of such ancient dead but without the fanaticism that make the most legendary examples so deadly. These creatures prove hate-filled but bestial, knowing only the will to destroy and the whims of their masters. Other cursed mummies typically spawn from excruciating deaths, curses of immortal suffering, and the wrath of ancient deities. On several occasions, such aff licted mummies have been unleashed from tombs meant to serve as eternal prisons, dusty vaults scored with damning confessions and vengeful prayers for eternal torment. These mummies lack the perverse protectiveness of their self-resurrecting cousins, replacing it instead with ancient plots, murderous obsessions, or ages-induced madness. The release of such vile beings, shunned even in the era of their creation, never proves kind to the modern age, time and insanity increasing the deadliness of these cursed dead countless times over. Necrology Regardless of the way in which these horrors come into being, all mummies share two common traits: the horror they inspire in the living and their terrifying disease. Power over irrational fear is not unique to mummies, though it is a trait more typical of spectral undead. Although these corpses vary in appearances—as do most bodied undead—the sight of a mummy provokes an overwhelming sense of dread and despair. While encountering the walking dead might reasonably shock anyone, the horror provoked by these wandering cadavers typically proves disproportionate to their appearance, especially when compared to similar and arguably more unnerving creatures. Such is this unnatural, unreasonable fear that only the most iron-shod souls might tamp down their horror and face a mummy with control of their faculties. In most cases, though, witnesses freeze with terror, becoming prisoners of fright and ready victims for the undead’s whims. Such paralyzing unease appears to have less to do with what a viewer sees and more with a pervasive aura of negative emotions or an instinctual perception of the being’s foul intent. Perhaps this mortal fear stems from the creature’s ability to force its dire will upon the living or the exploitation of some power gleaned in its soul’s travels beyond mortality. Or perhaps this is not a power of the dead, but rather a weakness in the living. Maybe a viewer understands on some level that before him treads a being that has seen the other side of death, knows its secrets, and through force of will alone has managed to return—and so, like a child abandoned before a runaway carriage, the witness stands slack-jawed and uncomprehending, preparing for what must seem an inevitable end. In any case, even the most courageous cannot hope to rely upon their bravery in the face of such potent horrors, for mummies are masters of fear and foul truths mortal minds balk to comprehend. A more understandable fear rises from the horrific, magical malady that mummies carry. Blurring the distinction between disease and curse, the legendary affliction known as mummy rot is aptly named, as victims face a swift, grotesque, and notoriously incurable wasting ailment. The specifics of the disease vary from mummy to mummy, seemingly based upon cultural lore retained from the creatures’ lives. While many victims of mummy rot waste away as if beset by disfiguring dehydration and blistering sunburn, mummies from non-desert climes might afflict their victims with illnesses that gradually reduce flesh to ooze, cause chilling water to leak from the body, mimic the effects of rapid aging or rotting, or any of a myriad of other terrifying fates. In the end, however, most who suffer from this dreadful curse meet a grotesque end, being reduced to little more than ashes and muck, components too insignificant for any but the most accomplished clerics to restore. Only the intervention of a deity or significant magics can save one afflicted with mummy rot, as victims are not simply infected by the disease, but rather cursed by it. Such misunderstanding of the ailment’s origin has led dozens to waste away even under the ministrations of the most accomplished healers. Only by first removing the curse might one then treat the ailment, though even banishing the afflicting curse is no assurance that the disease might naturally release its host. Only the combination of potent abjurations and healing magics can assure recovery from a mummy’s touch, though such treatments often prove too rare and expensive to be reliably obtained before the affliction finally metes out a mummy’s dreadful justice. Habitat & Society While mummies notoriously haunt the hidden pyramids and buried necropolises of ancient cultures, such locations are not requisite to their resurrection. Most mummies created by powers other than foul magic possess connections to their resting places, perceiving such places as sanctuaries or prisons granted to them by their descendants. The form of such places means little; it is the spiritual connection and the importance the deceased places on such locations that hold significance. Thus, mummies are just as likely to rise from hidden barrow mounds, ancient catacombs, or acres of holy mud as from more majestic tombs. That being said, cultures that place such importance on the dead as to monumentalize the resting places of the deceased predispose themselves to the curse of mummies. Upon reawakening, mummies typically retain a sense of the roles they occupied in life—such as fallen pharaohs, interred champions, or disgraced priests—and seek to carry out either their vengeances or their reawakened ambitions in fashions reminiscent of those from their past lives. Thus, a mummy’s modus operandi proves more a product of its life than its undead form, its unpredictability adding to the difficulty in Mummy both identifying and combating such a horror. For most such undead, no time seems to have passed since their deaths, and the secrets of their age remain fresh in their rotted minds. Thus, mummies often carry with them the knowledge, weapons, and magic of ages lost to history, yet even the most sage of these resurrected figures rarely shows any interest in passing along the lore of its era. Understanding what tools an ancient mummy has at its disposal may often be the key to defeating it. Just as a mummy might utilize trappings of the past against which present-day cultures have little defense, they also possess the frustration of individuals out of time, of powerful figures made weak by the dissolution of all that once granted them esteem. Thus, many viciously seek a return to death, as they are god-kings of empires reduced to dust, high priests who have outlived their deities, or the great otherwise made weak by the irreconcilable passage of time. The most maniacal of the ancient dead might overcome their histories or seek to recreate them anew, establishing mockeries of eras past with themselves occupying their former positions of power. As mummies draw their power from their moot obsessions, none can merely accept the loss of what they once had, driven forward with all the vigor of deluded yet immortally powerful fanatics. Campaign Role History, not linen wrappings, separates mummies from more anonymous undead. While the most blasphemous necromancers might raise mummies from any corpse, those cursed to their fate by ancient punishments or who rise in response to modern violations bear with them not merely the powers of the ancient dead, but the full might of resentful traditions, gods, and determination. The introduction of a mummy villain allows a GM to bring the world’s history to deadly life. Garbed in the raiments of fallen societies, mummies are time travelers of a sort, carrying with them the trappings of their past lives— treasures, sorceries, and weapons forgotten or abandoned in modern day. The ancient dead also retain their memories, methods, and expectations, many conflicting violently with the truths of a world that has moved on. Their attempts to recreate the world they held power within might unleash all manner of forgotten dangers, from mythical summoned creatures to servants and beasts buried along with their masters. Such maniacal undead might even attempt to bring the past back to life in their new time, possibly through elaborate recreations, the resurrection of dead cults and power structures, or even magic gates to ages past. Such machinations resurrect the past more significantly than mere ruins and ancient treasures, allowing epics long forgotten to invade the present through the plots of their most notorious and fanatical villains and masterminds. Aside from using mummies as a method to revive whole histories, they also give GMs the opportunity to throw PCs into the role of the invader. Most corpses with the potential to be mummies lie quietly until outside forces disturb them. Treasure hunters, tomb robbers, and explorers—all typical roles for adventurers—who steal from or otherwise upset ancient vaults run the risk of awakening and unleashing a mummy intent on restoring what has been spoiled and punishing interlopers. In such cases, the PCs are put in the role of offenders facing severe yet righteous wrath. Such might also lead to a party’s choice of setting right its offenses— possibly meaning abandoning some fantastic treasure—or doing battle with a being seeking only what is its by right. Known Mummies Several mummies are known to walk the lands of Avistan and Garund, and from the deserts of mysterious Osirion to the frosty reaches of the Crown of the World, no land is safe from the avid desires of the ancient dead. Alexayn the Miser: When Jhandorage Vaulnder Alexayn finally died, he did so a fantastically wealthy man. One of the founders of the now-notorious Aspis Consortium, Alexayn spent nearly half his considerable, unscrupulously gained fortune during his waning years, assuring his remembrance through construction and memorials across his home city of Ostenso. When the miser died, as per his wishes, he was interred in a towering mansion of a mausoleum along with his renowned collection of exotic objects d'art. Yet in the 108 years since his death, most of Alexayn’s works have been overshadowed, and the business he founded has forgotten him. When an attempted grave robbing roused the mogul’s corpse—covetous even in death—the discovery that his memory had already faded infuriated the newly risen mummy. Now, clad in the dated finery of a Chelish nobleman, the corpse Alexayn works to remind the world of his deeds, and assure that his name will linger for all time— in infamy if needs be. The Harlot Queen: This creature is the only known mummy created from the mortal remains of a goddess. In life she was Arazni, warrior-herald of Aroden, who ascended when she passed the test of the Starstone. The Whispering Pathfinder Chronicles: Classic Horrors Revisited Tyrant killed her during the Shining Crusade, and though her allies the Knights of Ozem buried her with full honors, the necromancer-ghost Geb stole her remains and animated her as a mummy, believing her the only creature worthy to rule beside him. He rarely manifests in the world anymore, and she is little more than a figurehead. None can say how much she remembers of her former life. Ossa Stormseer: At a young age, the raider princess Ossa nearly died from frostbite, losing six of her fingers and her right eye, which her chieftain father replaced with a brilliant blue iolite. This eye was said to grant her the power to see storms, and as she rose as a priestess among her people, she became known as a favorite of, even kin to, the spirits that stir the depths of the seas. After a long life devoted to her people’s brutal gods of the oceans, Ossa fell in battle, her funeral barge sent to sail to the horizon to rejoin the revered denizens of the sea. But the fickle tides claimed the priestess’s ship and swept it north, where it wrecked upon a glacier, never to sink into the depths. Her body frozen amid the rich offerings of her longship, Ossa’s spirit returned, animating her corpse as a mummy. Having been trapped for centuries, the raider witch has gone mad with frustration, believing herself punished for some spiritual dishonor. She now lies imprisoned, seeking only to redeem herself in battle so she might be granted another, honorable burial at sea. Walkena: In an odd reversal of Arazni’s story, Walkena was a mortal boy prince of the original Mwangi society. Now the undead prince’s followers worship him as a god, and the cruel boy-mummy is somehow able to grant spells like any deity. Awakening the Dead Not just any corpse can spontaneously manifest as a mummy. GMs interested in creating mummies resurrected “naturally” (rather than by spells like create undead) should consider the passion and force of will of the would-be mummy. By and large, a corpse should be of a creature with a Charisma of 15 or higher and possessing at least 8 Hit Dice. In addition, it should have a reason for caring about the eternal sanctity of its remains in excess of normal mortal concern. As such, priests of deities with the Death or Repose domains, heroes expecting a champion’s burial, lords of cultures preoccupied with the afterlife, or individuals otherwise obsessed with death or their worldly possessions all make suitable candidates for resurrection as mummies—though countless other potential reasons for resurrection exist. An Accursed Fate Easily the most feared ability of mummies is their notorious curse: mummy rot. Both a disease and a curse, this aff liction proves exceptionally difficult to cure, even for accomplished healers. Part of this blight’s infamy comes from the specifics of its symptoms. While many mummies cause a curse that gradually withers away its victims till nothing but desert sand remains, the aff liction itself proves highly variable and unique to many atypical individuals. In each case, the effects prove the same, but the symptoms can be wildly distinctive. Corpse Chills: Those cursed with this form of mummy rot find themselves afflicted with an intense cold and a spreading frostbite that proves resistant to all nonmagical treatment. This curse usually originates from bodies mummified by extremely cold, dry conditions or buried in ice. Grave Ichor: Someone cursed with this form of mummy rot finds his skin loosening and slipping as if over-soaked with water. Eventually, in its most fatal stages, the victim’s flesh begins dripping from his body. Phantom Infestation: The victim of this form of mummy rot bears the marks of one whose flesh is beset by worms or parasitic vermin. Though the skin breaks with scars, verminous trails, and minute bites, no infestation is ever witnessed, at least until the body bursts in an eruption of scarab beetles upon the victim’s death. Swamp Crumble: Typically transmitted only by mummies created by bog burial, victims of this affliction take 1d3 Dex, 1d3 Con, and 1d3 Cha instead of the normal effect of mummy rot. The disease causes the victim’s bones to become brittle and dissolve; upon death, only the skin, internal organs, and other soft tissues remain. A side effect of swamp crumble is the victim’s hair becomes tinged with red, with light-colored hair turning as red as fresh blood. Sample Mummy The tale of Pharaoh Sharsqa II and Shielseis, his dedicated concubine, is one of the greatest and darkest love stories of Facets of Fear The horror of the mummy springs from more than merely its state as a walking corpse, its existence intrinsically tied to matters ancient and mysterious. Creatures born of faith in cultures, divinities, and traditions that, in many cases, undeath has cursed them to outlive, these ancient dead carry with them the secrets and powers of ages past, inscrutable plagues and righteous curses from which the living have little defense. Their terror is the fear of the dark and forgotten, of bitter cultures crumbled to dust, of vengeful deities and atrocious worship, and of a sacrosanct path to death upon which the living have no right to interfere. Grave robbers intruding upon the resting places of these ancient dead face not just the dangers and traps associated with forgotten crypts, but immersion in a realm of death intended to be sacred and inviolable—a home not just for a corpse, but for an immortal soul. Should such trespasses rouse the fury of the tomb’s resident, in their final moments interlopers realize the blame for their own deaths falls not entirely on foul magics or the curse of unlife, but upon their own hubris for intruding upon the kingdom of the dead. Mummy ancient Osirion. Beautiful beyond words and vain beyond measure, Shielseis was accused of slowly poisoning her lord’s first and second queens as well as his entire harem, leaving herself the sole recipient of his affections. When her murderousness was revealed by the pharaoh’s chief advisor, the harem girl was condemned to death by a hundred snake bites. With her final words, she dramatically professed her love for the pharaoh before leaping into a pit of asps. Yet, despite her being waist deep in vipers, the asps refused to bite. Overwhelmed by the miracle and moved by her devotion, Sharsqa fell madly in love with the girl and lifted her from the pit, pronouncing her his new queen. When the pharaoh’s advisor spoke out against Shielseis’s low birth, a tiny asp slithered from her gown and struck the aged counselor, killing him instantly. Eight years ago, grave robbers discovered the tomb of Sharsqa II and haphazardly plundered it, leaving behind the sarcophagus of Shielseis. Rising soon after as a elegant mummy clad in a beautiful ivory mask, the queen now seeks out both those who despoiled her beloved crypt and the unawakened mummy of Sharsqa II. Her search has led her across northern Garund, where she has fostered a network of agents and informants who know her only as the Queen of Asps.

Defense

Offense

Statistics

Description

female mummy cleric 9/aristocrat 2

Despair (Su) All creatures within a 30-foot radius that see Shielseis must make a DC 19 Will save or be paralyzed by fear for 1d4 rounds. Whether or not the save is successful, that creature cannot be affected again by her despair ability for 24 hours. This is a paralysis and mind-affecting fear effect.

The save DC is Charisma-based.

Curse (Su) Mummy Rot: slam—injury; save Fort DC 16; onset 1 minute; frequency 1 day; effect 1d6 Con and 1d6 Cha; cure —. Mummy rot is both a curse and a disease and can only be cured if the curse is first removed, at which point the disease can be magically removed. Even after the curse element of mummy rot is lifted, a creature suffering from the disease cannot recover naturally over time. Anyone casting a conjuration (healing) spell on the afflicted creature must succeed on a DC 20 caster level check, or the spell is wasted and the healing has no effect.

Anyone who dies from mummy rot turns to dust and cannot be raised without a resurrection or greater magic. The save DC is Charisma-based.

Pathfinder Chronicles: Classic Horrors Revisited “What? I don’t compare to the beauties of Caliphas?” she dared, her cool breath on my neck, startling me with her closeness. In truth, she didn’t compare. Even through her arresting vermilion gown she was naked, her boldness and fire making her so, nothing like the precocious, empty-headed debutantes of the capital with their painted-on faces and poisonous whispers. Her intentions were obvious and overwhelming, and with the wound of Duristan’s loss there was little I could do to resist those eyes, that skin, those lips. I tried to mutter something, but even to myself it sounded like nothing more than a moan of consent.

The last thing I remember was glimpsing the glow of jaundiced eyes through the crazed salon glass and a fanged sneer that followed me even into darkness.

—Ailson Kindler, Galdyce’s Guest: Feast of the Nosferatu Chapter Eight Vampire Vampire P riests often call death a release, a liberation from the bonds and concerns of life, allowing one to pass on into a state of rapture. In the vampire, such comforting words take on a terrifying cast, for once freed from the fears and cares of the living, only the basest hunger and unsatisfied lusts survive, desires that transform even the most virtuous souls into monsters.

Any discussion of vampires is one tainted by ages of lore and fiction, where superstition and fantasy muddle life-sparing fact. The truths of these horrors lie riddled with contradiction: vampires are dead, but live on; their bodies are cold, yet their beauty never fades; they sow suffering and death, yet they bear the faces of friends. While much is made of the ability of holy talismans, coffin dirt, hawthorne stakes, and sunlight to combat and destroy these undead, in practice there is no such thing as a common vampire, nor one that is not aware of its vulnerabilities and won’t summon lifetimes of experience to continue its deathless rampage. Only an understanding of the goals and fundamental natures of these elusive undead might aid one in deterring their undying appetites, yet even then, all the resources of the living stand wanting when compared to the unnatural might and ages-old cunning of these princes of the undead.

Necrology Even given the wide range of folklore and legends in various cultures, few fail to possess at least passing knowledge of the vampiric cycle of predation and rejuvenation. While fireside tales do much to spread general details, such can hardly be relied upon when identifying one of these undead, and even less so when combating them.

The ultimate fear of vampires rises from their storied kiss, the bite and telltale marks that spread death and the dark curse of unlife. As the most discussed and feared power of these unliving hunters, vampires’ pronounced fangs draw the blood of the living, allowing the vampire both to feed upon the vital fluid and, more terrifyingly, to create more of its kind from its victims. Though this is not an uncommon trait of the undead, in vampires such corruption finds refinement, affording them the choice of slaying their victims outright or resurrecting them, as either deathless thralls or true vampires. The distinctions between these similar abominations escape most would-be hunters, yet two distinct types of vampire exist: true vampires and vampire spawn (also known as vampire thralls, slaves, or brides). While details of true vampires dominate discussions of these terrors, the secondary vampire spawn is often entirely overlooked. These lesser yet still exceptionally dangerous vampires possess many of the strengths and weaknesses of their creators, yet lack true vampires’ lordly domination over base creatures of the night, their power to transform into beasts, and their ability to create more of their kind. Typically, too, these spawn come from mortals without the willpower or exceptional character that would attract vampires to remake them as peers rather than servants. Thus, vampire spawn are bound to the will of their masters, being slaves to their whims, typically exhibiting no more control or ambition of their own than feral ghouls or untamed hunters without the control and foresight of their masters.

Much mystery surrounds the properties of a vampire’s bite, the fanged kiss through which they drain the blood of the living. Debates extend even unto the manner in which vampiric fangs aid in feeding, whether they merely serve as tools to start blood flowing or siphon blood themselves. Regardless of such particulars, the effects of a vampire’s bite remain the same: gradual weakening unto death. While most vampires visit their victims night after night, draining them of their vitality little by little, some gorge themselves, drinking away an entire life in a single feast. It is from such deaths that new vampires might arise—though victims physically unfit for the transformation might still resurrect as mere vampire spawn. With such in mind, many vampires drain mortals near to death, but allow them to succumb to death from mere weakness and wasting, not the act of being drained directly. Thus, vampires choose who they pass their curse onto, avoiding the hindrances and evidence that multiple members of their kind sometimes present.

Draining blood is not the only way new vampires are created, however. Little known is the fact that the very touch of the vampire can drain one’s power and weaken one’s resolve—a condition that seems to be more a manner of fundamental deterioration than mere physical draining. Rarely used by vampires except in desperate conflicts, as it supplies them with no vital blood, their energy-sapping touch can easily extinguish a life, and from such withering deaths new vampires arise, cursing even the most exceptional souls to an existence as undead slaves.

The act of draining blood serves vampires as more than merely a method of creating new servants. Although none can truly say what drives these undead to thirst for blood, a vampire’s lifelike appearance and the liquid source of mortal vitality are inseparably intertwined. Despite their own confessed need for blood, even unto nightly feeding, vampires held captive can seemingly go for months, even years, without drinking—yet the transformation this hunger causes is terrifying. Vampires deprived of blood gradually lose their lifelike appearance, withering into corpses ravaged to the extent time would naturally intend. In addition, the obsession with blood comes to dominate their starved psyches, driving them to the brink of madness and, in cases of extreme deprivation, irretrievably over it. Although their physical abilities seem unimpeded, their ravenous states cause them to forget much of the pomp and charm associated with their kind, revealing them for the nightmarish ghoul-kin they truly are. Those allowed to drink over the course of several nights regain their appearance and control, but the experience proves so physically and Pathfinder Chronicles: Classic Horrors Revisited psychologically painful—likened to dying again with every moment—that no vampire would willingly endure it.

Beyond the need for sustenance, vampires possess baser requirements to continue their undead existences. To rest, heal, and avoid the destructive properties of sunlight, vampires keep coffin sanctuaries. These resting places serve as a place for the undead to reconstitute if wounded and find a measure of the death-like repose they require to sustain their nightly hunts. All vampires have a unique connection with their coffins, preventing any common wooden box from sustaining them. Such a resting place must hold a personal connection for its user, typically being the coffin it was interred within, that of a family member, one that bears the grave dirt of its homeland, or a perfect facsimile of a lost coffin. Should its coffin be destroyed, a vampire goes to great lengths to find or create a new one that satisfies its deathly needs. Exactly what such needs are, however, varies between individuals, and only a tenacious hunter might reveal the specific mystery of a vampire’s resting place.

The powers and methods of destroying a vampire also vary widely, both among individual vampires and in tales of these creatures. These undead are often described as holding power over vermin and nocturnal beasts, summoning such creatures forth and transforming into their shapes, or even discorporating into creeping mist. More exotic reports even tell of vampires controlling the weather, spreading disease, or taking on the appearances of living individuals. Such abilities and mastery of form make these undead notoriously difficult to detect, track, and defend against. Those who must, however, are confronted with equally varied advice on these menaces’ vulnerabilities, ranging from wooden stakes through the heart to the abjuring properties of certain plants. Although no weakness can be called universal, most vampires truly are scorched by sunlight, weakened by rushing water, and immobilized—but not vanquished—by a stake through the heart. Yet even these supposed truths cannot be relied upon in every case, as vampires make for cunning, adaptable, and varied opponents. Typically, a vampire’s weakness lies within its own history, and while the accounts of successful vampire hunts might suggest tools and practices to prepare those who would combat these horrors, in truth, little besides a patient mind, tenacity in the face of terror, and the grace of the gods can assure a vampire’s final destruction.

Habitat & Society Just as the facets of the vampiric mindset defy reliable generalization, so too do details of their nightly habits. Perhaps the sole truth that applies to all vampires is their fundamental difference from other undead. While lingering souls and unquiet corpses typically tarry in haunts forsaken by the living, vampires seek out avenues coursing with vitality, their existences sustained by robbing life from the living one sanguine splash at a time. Thus, just as vampirism might be likened to a disease, vampires plague mortal civilization, following, feeding upon, and spreading through it wherever it might arise. Typically, vampires prefer to hunt within sizable urban centers where they might blend in and their depredations might be disguised. Smaller communities can rarely satisfy a vampire’s hungers, and feeding upon or driving away all the residents of an area serves these predators no better than a farmer who consumes his entire harvest before winter. As such, all but the most feral vampires strive to exercise subtlety and self control when it comes to their nightly feasts, so as not to deny themselves future prey. Only in the rarest situations might a vampire be able to exist in seclusion, and typically only then with complex arrangements to provide them with the endless stream of living blood they require.

In their interactions, either with the living or others of their kind, vampires prove just as likely to parody what they remember of mortal relations as to abandon such conventions entirely. Such translates into the manner in which these terrors hunt, either hiding as serpents within the shadows of mortal society, or prowling like wolves at the edge of civilization, picking off the weak and unwary who cross their paths. In the case of vampires who infiltrate the streets and shadows of their former homelands, many go to great lengths adhering to what they perceive as the height of their chosen culture’s society. In their undead egotism, most remake themselves as aristocrats or other elite, allowing themselves to hollowly enjoy in death what petty comforts they relished or longed for in life. In their socialization, such vampires wear the facade of dignity and culture, many becoming quite adept at passing as obscure nobility through centuries of such mimicry—though their manners often seem outdated or from another time. Yet even such etiquette merely serves as a mask, a pleasing visage that, when exposed by hunger or rage, reveals the unnatural predator within.

At the other extreme, many vampires completely divest themselves of their past mortality, letting all suggestion of reason, patience, and presentation drop away. While some continue to exist merely for themselves, becoming lords of their own private worlds, others lack the ambition or desire to master even themselves, degrading into little better than beasts, driven on only by their nightly hungers.

Which path a vampire chooses to spend its immortality pursuing varies largely depending on its psyche in life. Most fail to acclimate to their unliving states, especially those turned to undeath against their wills. Individuals with hearts and mindsets too virtuous or rigid to survive by feeding upon their former families and neighbors often starve, murder themselves, or go insane, rampaging until their hungers or conspicuousness destroy them. Such crazed undead might be pitiable, but rarely does any vestige of their former mortality survive, granting such terrors merely additional masks behind which to hide their monstrous hungers.

Vampire With powers godlike in comparison to those they possessed as mortals, most vampires are arrogant to the extreme. Such extends to their interactions with both the living and the dead. As such, vampires rarely fraternize with one another except in a master-slave arrangement. Should two vampires meet by happenstance, differences of personality and methodology typically predispose these undead to rivalry if not barefaced loathing. Should two vampires manage to overcome their initial distaste, seeing their own hungers reflected in another typically leads to deep-seated revulsion, both for their companion and themselves, which might only be satisfied by distance, or better, destruction. Thus, only when a vampire can look upon others of its kind as inferior servants, masters to replace, or evils to temporarily suffer might such abominations survive one another.

Campaign Role With their innate strength, powers of manipulation, and elusive natures, vampires easily find their ambitions leading them into a diverse array of nighttime plots. While many monstrous creatures have limited possibilities for lairs and menace, vampires offer great range with both their variety of forms and their ability to hide among the living. When considering how to introduce vampires into a campaign, the GM should choose which form he wishes these undead stalkers to take, the most typical options being hunter or mastermind.

As hunters, vampires take the form of predators classically found in folklore, corpses driven by their lust for blood to prey upon the living. Both vampire spawn and full-fledged vampires fill this role well, hunting the living with either bestial savagery or the cunning of an ancient assassin. In most such plots, survival motivates these deathless killers, their predation either blatantly suggesting the modus operandi of their kind or being intentionally disguised and thus mysterious. The mere revelation of a vampire within a community’s midst easily flows into a hunt for the creature’s identity and subsequent slaying, drawing elements of urgency and mystery into any campaign. GMs might tailor the resulting evidence to the personality and goals of their vampiric villains, leading their PCs into the chateaus of sinister recluses, the haunted ruins of supposedly dead families, or even the forgotten warrens of feral vampiric clans.

As masterminds, vampires might become as deadly and varied in their goals as any other high-powered monster or villain. The type of creature a vampire was in life and the skills it possessed often color its plots in undeath: a warrior turned into a vampire might still attempt to bring ruin by the sword, while a vampiric wizard might prove as magically adept and knowledge-hungry as any lich. By warrant of their variety, true vampires better fulfill the role of schemer and manipulator than their more feral spawn. When in such a role, a vampire’s hungers are typically secondary to their greater plots, and as such, these needs are less likely to be given away, often fulfilled quietly or by the hands of a subordinate. Thus, only once a party is well invested in combating the depredations of such a villain might they come to realize his accursed nature.

Vampiric Breeds Unlike the appellations of many undead, the name “vampire” can apply to a wide variety of terrible creatures, this undead affliction proving variable to such an extent that numerous distinct types of vampires reputedly exist. While these unusual vampires might pervade the tales and fears of secluded or exotic regions—and even outnumber more typical vampires in such areas—they are generally far more reclusive than their better-known and more populous cousins.

Aswang: A terrifying breed of vampire typically haunting lands of the distant east, aswangs only arise from female victims. While these cunning undead predators fear no light and appear relatively human by day, they possess significant shapeshifting powers, undergoing a monstrous transformation, in which they grow terrible wings, claws, and a long, sharp tongue which they use to feed upon flesh and hearts—especially those of the young or unborn. Seemingly related to these grotesque undead are the dismembered manananggal and penanggalan, horrifying vampiric witches that respectively abandon their lower bodies or all but their heads and dangling entrails as they take to the hunt. Dhampir: Known as ghoul-blooded or half-vampires, those cursed to live as dhampirs know a miserable half-life. Born from mothers infected with vampirism in the final days of their pregnancy or sired by freshly spawned vampire fathers, dhampirs live with the curse of vampirism in their mortal blood. Although the taint grants these rare souls eerie abilities, such as sensing nearby undead, so too are they cursed with a measure of their accursed parents’ ravenous natures, making many just as dangerous as vampires themselves. (The dhampir appears in the Pathfinder RPG Bestiary II.) Nosferatu: Thought by many to be bearers of an ancient strain of vampirism, nosferatu possess many traits common to vampires, yet notably lack the immortal youth and vigor of other breeds. With strange similarities to and powers over beasts and vermin, these reclusive, withered vampires typically avoid interactions with the living except those who fall victim to their eerie powers of mind control. Yet, despite their age and dreadful manipulations, nosferatu are a waning breed, Pathfinder Chronicles: Classic Horrors Revisited with none known to be able to pass on their monstrous curse and thus create more of their kind. (Nosferatu are described in detail in Pathfinder Adventure Path volume #8.) Vrykolakas: Bestial creatures, vrykolakas lack all the pride, romanticism, and seductive qualities of other vampiric breeds. Similar to ghouls yet far more cunning, these animalistic, shape-changing corpses rise from their graves by night to haunt the living and spread a terrifying, life-draining disease. Bereft of numerous vampiric weaknesses, they prove notoriously difficult to kill and can easily scour the life from overconfident hunters or entire unwary communities. (The vrykolakas appears in Pathfinder Adventure Path volume #29.) Variant Vampiric Abilities Just as various breeds of vampires exist, so too does diversity exist within regional or otherwise related groups of such undead.

Ancient Youth (Su): A vampire with this ability transformed into one of the undead at a very young age, and has been trapped within an adolescent body for an existence possibly measuring in centuries. Vampires with this ability are size Small and gain a +4 bonus on all Bluff checks. (+0 CR)

Mastermind (Su): Vampires with this ability can have a number of enslaved spawn totaling four times its total Hit Dice. In addition, the vampire chooses one of the following three abilities: clairaudience, clairvoyance, or telepathy. Depending on the ability chosen, the vampire can hear what its spawn hears, see what it sees, or communicate telepathically with it. The vampire may exercise or end its use of this ability as a standard action and maintain its connection to its spawn for as long as it wishes. A vampire may only use this ability with one spawn at a time. The vampire and vampire spawn must be on the same plane for this ability to function. While using this ability, the vampire enters a catatonic state similar to its daily rest and is treated as helpless, though it is alerted to any jarring noises, the presence of any visible creature within 5 feet, or any damage that befalls its body. (CR +0)

Noble Dead (Su): A vampire with this ability possesses an ancient and legendary bloodline. He gains a +2 bonus on all Diplomacy checks, which increases to +4 if being utilized against another undead creature. In addition, he gains channel resistance +6, and the DC of his dominate ability increases by +2. (CR +0)

Sunlight Resistance (Su): This ability provides a vampire a measure of resistance against sunlight. On the second and all later rounds of exposure to direct sunlight, the vampire takes damage equal to one-third of its maximum hit points and is destroyed if this brings it to 0 hit points. The vampire is staggered on any round it is exposed to direct sunlight. (CR +0)

Swarm Form (Su): As a standard action, a vampire with this ability can change into a bat swarm, centipede swarm, rat swarm, or spider swarm. The swarm has a number of hit points equal to the vampire, and any damage done to the swarm affects the vampire’s hit point total. While in swarm form, a vampire cannot use any of its natural or special attacks, although it gains the movement, natural weapons, and extraordinary special abilities of the swarm into which it has transformed. The vampire also retains all of its usual special qualities. While in swarm form the vampire is still considered to be an undead creature with its total number of Hit Dice. A vampire can remain in swarm form until it assumes another form or retakes it original form (a standard action), or until the next sunrise. (CR +0) Known Vampires Untold populations of bloodthirsty undead hunt Golarion by night. Noted here are but two of these undying predators. Galdyce: The aged viscount of the Ustalavic county of Amaans long sated his lusts among the peasantry of that mountainous region, claiming bride after ill-fated bride in a supposed attempt to father a male heir. Revealed as a nosferatu, Galdyce was supposedly slain in 4685 by the adventurers Duristan Barlhein and Ailson Kindler, leaving the Vale of Red Breath and the nearby village of Sen’s Pass to return to a sleepy existence. In recent months, though, mysterious lights have been spotted among the half-ruined Castle Galdyce, leading many to fearfully whisper that the dreaded viscount or one of his terrible brides have returned home.

Jhalhasef: The Merchant of Life serves as a broker between the traders and alchemists of Merab and the ghouls of Nemret Noktoria in the Darklands deep below Thuvia. The dark-robed vampire seeks out dread secrets among the ghoulish scholars, trading them to the surface for prices paid in gold bars, amphoras of human blood, and veiled wagons bearing moaning cargo. Sample Vampire Few could conceive of a more charming, high-spirited pair than the aristocratic artist Lady Lauris Sankairn and her lifelong friend and bodyguard Audbrey Aldamori. Supposedly the last heir of a tragically small Galtan family, Lauris claims to be touring the finest cities of Taldor, Andoran, Cheliax, and points beyond in indulgence of her life-loving, adventuresome spirit. The pair have become popular additions to many a posh social circle, proving adept at art, drink, song, and whiling away evenings with tales of scandals and misadventures past. Despite their charm, the doting couple—quick to note their not wholly platonic yet still welcoming relationship—have greater goals than merely an endless stream of freewheeling revels. In truth, Lady Lauris is the vampiric spawn of Aldamori, a vampire who had preyed upon the aristocrats of Galt for centuries. With the coming of the Red Revolution, though, the vampire found much of the noblesse—the only mortals he deigned to dine upon— carted off as fodder for the guillotines. After abandoning the country, he and his most beautiful slave have continued to tour the Inner Sea under the guise of avant-garde fops for over 40 years, sampling the elite of numerous counties and leaving a trail of misfortune in their wake.

Source: Classic Horrors Revisited, p. 46