Have I ever told you, my lads, the tale of any adventure
on the dreaded Isle of Sahu? At the time when I moored
offshore the island, I had no idea of its evil reputation as
the homeland for necromancers. Even if I had known, I
was young and invincible like you, and in search of dangerous adventure. And besides, our ship was badly in need of fresh water and supplies.
Now, when I went ashore with a well-armed landing
parly of brave souls, I found a curious tower fashioned
from rusted metal into the shape of a giant toadstool. As I
approached, a door in the base of the tower opened, and a
pair of plum-robed men welcomed us with a friendly greeting. The elder, an unusual man with weird, bluish skin,
introduced himself as Master Pizentios, a scholar of
ancient magic. The other man, a much younger, cadaverously thin fellow, was called Sarzec. I gathered from his deferential treatment of Pizentios that he served as an
assistant to the older wizard.
They seemed genuinely friendly - and we had been living on old limes, chipped beef and lurd biscuit for so long -
that when they invited me and my entire crew to a freshly
cooked dinner, I could hardly refuse. The Master graciously
welcomed us all into his tall tower and entertained us with
tales about the dangers of the surrounding waters, and the
beauty of the island's exotic flowers, which he grew in a private garden. Suddenly, I noticed that all of my sailors were
falling insensibly to the floor. Somehow, even though the
apprentice served us all from the same bowl, our food had
been tainted with a powerful sleeping poison.
As my vision began to blur, the Master motioned
silently to the shadows, and the darkness disgorged a
winged fiend whose red eyes began to glow hungrily in the
dim lamplight. The two necromancers and their diabolical
familiar gloated quietly while I sank to the floor, powerless
to move my limbs or even speak. I remember hearing one of
the wizards grasping a knife on the table, and the scatter of
chairs across the floor as he approached one of my fallen
sailors. And then I heard, before I fell away into merciful
darkness and oblivion, the sound of obscene, urgent slurping as the familiar began its own repast.
-From Captain Omar's "Tale of Sahu"
Powerful necromancers rarely live alone. Contrary
to popular misconception, not all practitioners of the
Art abhor company, and even the most reclusive wizard may have at least some servants at his or her beck
and call. Although wizards do not normally gain followers like most other character classes once they reach
9th or 10th level, they may still attract apprentice necromancers, hire henchmen, summon familiars, or even
create their own undying followers. Finally, sociable necromancers may care to ally themselves with a secret
society of their profession, gaining access to a wide
variety of potential allies with similar interests.
Unlike the necromancer, death priests gain an entire
cult of fanatical followers once they reach 9th level.
Their "flock" usually starts with 20-200 0-level followers (as noted in the PHB; see the CPrH for priesthood specific followers), plus 2d5 minor priests (each 1st-6th
level). Obviously this following will grow as the priest
advances in power and prestige with his or her deity.
The DM may care to extend a priest's usual entourage
with a few "special" guardians or fiendish advisors
gleaned from the current chapter.
The decision to flesh out a necromancer character
with an entire cast of supporting henchmen and
flunkies will normally depend on his or her role in
the campaign. This chapter is intended for the DM
who wants to turn a necromancer NPC from a minor
random encounter into a campaign-ruling menace.
When the wizard (or priest) ceases to act as an individual and starts to behave like a master manipulator, complete with free-acting agents to perform his
or her bidding, then you have the beginnings of a
true campaign villain.
Apprentices
One of the first principles of sympathetic magic dictates that "like attracts like." The same can be said for
necromancers and aspiring students of the Forbidden
Arts. The outstanding master of any academic subject,
artistic skill, or physical prowess will undoubtedly
attract young novices who wish to learn what the
master has to offer. The study of necromancy is no different, and despite its notoriety, a master of the Dark
Arts can expect to be approached and petitioned by
several hopeful students.
There are many advantages to apprenticeship, for
both student and master. The student gains access to
some portion of his or her master's knowledge, and
he or she also receives training in new spells and
wizardly techniques. The master also benefits from
the arrangement (perhaps as much or even more
than the pupil), for although the tutor has to deal
with the responsibility of teaching a new student, he
or she also gains a willing and (more or less) obedient servant. Most magical research does not require
the mastery personal attention and may be competently handled by a wizard of much lower level. Similarly, a powerful wizard would not wish to waste
time cleaning the laboratory, preparing meals,
cleaning the tower, gathering spell components, and performing other such menial tasks. Admittedly, a few
of these duties can be accomplished by mindless
undead or fiendish familiars, but the simplest,
cheapest, and least dangerous way to recruit help
has always been to hire on a living apprentice,
Upon reaching 9th level, a necromancer attracts
1-4 apprentices. Naturally, a wizard may refuse to
take any students if she or he so desires, but sometimes an especially driven student can change a stubborn mind. Apprentice wizards usually begin their
careers at 1st level and must be trained by their
master (either by taking them on adventures or
through instruction). They usually adopt the same
kit as their mentor, and their spell list is usually
restricted to a small subset of their master's much
larger repertoire.
Once the students reach 3rd level, there is a 30%
chance that they will leave their master's? service and
begin their own careers as necromancers unless their
mentor otherwise entices them to stay. This chance
increases by 10% for every level the student gains
beyond 3rd. Although a master necromancer may be
periodically deserted by an apprentice, another
potential (lst-level) student usually arrives to fill the
vacancy within a month of the departure.
As the master's power and fame grows, so too will
the number of students who are attracted to his or her
service. For every level of experience beyond 9th, a
necromancer may attract one additional (lst-2nd level)
apprentice. Indeed, some necromancers establish their
own secret schools hidden in the wilderness, far from
established colleges. The DM is referred to DUNGEON® #27 for an excellent example of such a school.
While still young and impressionable, an apprentice
tends to take on the mannerisms and attitudes of the
master. However, as the student's fledgling power and
aptitude develops over a period of time, he or she
begins to develop a more fully realized sense of personality and professional demeanor; in the final stage
of apprenticeship, a student begins to assert his or her
own wizardly opinion, openly conflicting (sometimes
violently so) with the wishes of the master.
Powerful necromancers (like most wizards and academicians) tend to be somewhat egotistical and will
rarely tolerate an apprentice with more than half their
own experience levels in their service. Thus is it rare for
a l0th-level necromancer, for instance, to be encountered with an apprentice of greater than 5th level. Obviously, the more powerful the necromancer, the more
talented and skilled the current students will be.
Depending upon the personality of their master,
some students are merely released from their apprenticeship once they have proceeded too far in their
studies. Given the criminal tendencies of certain
necromancers, however, other students meet a much
more sinister fate.
Henchmen
Although apprentices can dramatically increase a
necromancer's research productivity, they have the
same skills and limitations as their master. In a sense,
they are a weaker reflection of their mentor, and most
necromancers who utilize living allies will recognize
this drawback. Like most wizards, a necromancer may
turn to living hirelings or henchmen for assistance in
defending their stronghold, administrative duties, spying missions, and the like. Anatomists, in particular,
must often rely on roguish associates to procure the
fresh cadavers that are necessary for their professional
advancement.
A necromancer's henchmen will either be fighters
(40%), thieves or bards (30%), wizards (10%), psionicists (5%), or (death) priests (5%). It is improbable
that a retinue will include druids, rangers, paladins,
or wizards from a different school. If necromancers
wanted access to a spell from another school of
magic, they would have learned it themselves. Some
wizards may promote their own students to the rank
of henchmen once they reach high enough level (it is
a big leap from student to employee).
Henchmen wizards are thus necromancers who get
along well with their former mentors. Most henchmen
will have about half as many experience levels as their
patron. They will be well equipped with mundane and
magical items, according to the whims, taste, and
financial background of their employer. Unlike students, who are attracted by a wizard's prestige, the
number of henchmen in a necromancer's service will
depend on his or her Charisma.
Note that there is yet another fundamental difference between the henchman or crony and the lowly
apprentice who works for little more than the quest
for magical knowledge and power. Most henchmen
must be compensated in more concrete terms. Their
loyalty most often comes at a price, usually in the
form of monetary wealth or magical items. As with
player characters, most abused henchmen will desert
or seek to betray their masters. In most cases, only
those henchmen with a compatible alignment will
remain for long in a particular necromancer's service.
Familiars
A familiar is any creature, magical or otherwise,
that augments the personal powers of a wizard. The
familiar is more than a minor servant or hireling: it
can serve as a pel and a confidant for a lonely necromancer, as well. At low levels, the find familiar spell
can be employed to obtain a small animal that will
transmit sensory information back to its owner. Animals such as the crow, raven, serpent, hyena, vulture,
and weasel are most appropriate to the necromancer,
who can presumably summon more powerful familiars than the average wizard by right of his or her
secret knowledge.
Ordinarily, familiars do have a major drawback: because of the spiritual (necromantic) link with its
master, when the familiar dies, the wizard must
make a system shock roll to survive the ordeal while
permanently losing a point of Constitution. Necromancers with familiars will take elaborate precautions to keep their familiars safe from harm.
Although these are the most common types of
familiars available, it is also possible to attract more
powerful, extraplanar creatures into a necromancer's
service. With the proper sacrifice an evil wizard can
summon a creature from the Lower Planes to serve as
a familiar. Most often, the fiendish familiar will either
be an imp or a quasit (as detailed in the MONSTROUS
MANUAL). A necromancer (or an evil priest with
access to the sphere of Summoning) may call an imp
or quasit to him or her, with a 10% chance of success
per level of experience.
Although the fiend often appears like a tiny, wicked
creature, it could also take on a more dangerous or
sinister appearance. For instance, instead of looking
like an annoying 2' tall fiend (something akin to Jabba
the Hut's maniacally cackling pet in the film The
Empire Strikes Back), an imp could appear as a shadowy, winged creature with glowing red eyes (as illustrated in Captain Omar's introductory tale). The DM
should feel free to embellish and tailor both the
appearance and powers of the classic imp to suit the
personality of its master and the mood of the campaign. Pizentios's "shadow imp," for instance, may
have the ability to hide in natural shadows and darkness (gaining the ability to serve as an excellent spy),
but it also has all the weaknesses of a normal undead
shadow, such as aversion to bright light (see Pizentios's character description in Chapter Nine for more
details). These essentially minor changes in appearance and abilities can dramatically change the way a parly of adventurers regards the familiar (and its
master as well), especially among experienced players
who have perused the MM.
Depending upon the power of a necromancer, the
"common" imp may not suit either his or her taste or
image. Other fiends may serve as more interesting or
appropriate pets. On the other hand, a more practical
Archetype may prefer to have a nightmare as his
trusted, magical steed and familiar. A few fiends
(imps and quasits included) will willingly serve a
mortal master, on the hopes that they will be able to
collect the wizard's soul when he or she dies and present it to their overlords in the Outer Planes, gaining
greater prestige (or in the case of an imp or quasit, a
promotion in the infernal hierarchy).
In general, a necromancer may not have an extraplanar creature as a familiar with more than a third as
many hit dice as the wizard's levels of experience.
Thus, it would take at least an 18th-level necromancer
to attract a 6 HD succubus or nightmare familiar. In
addition to the usual telepathic rapport, the fiend usually confers some of its powers on the master (as
noted for the imp in the MM). A succubus, for example, may provide her master with invulnerability to
surprise and resistance against all types of fire, as well
as her usual fiendish immunities (such as half damage
from cold and gases, and resistance to electricity and
poison). More importantly, fiendish familiars enable
their masters to memorize and cast spells as if they
were one level higher, provided they are within one
mile per level of experience. Finally, the necromancer
gains bonus hit points, equal to the maximum hit
points of his or her familiar (regardless of proximity).
Of course, should anything tragic ever happen to
a fiendish familiar, the penalties are far worse than
those suffered when an animal familiar dies. When a
fiendish familiar dies (or more appropriately, has
been banished from the necromancer's plane of existence), the wizard must roll a save vs. death magic or
perish; even if he or she survives, the necromancer
loses four levels of experience. These lost levels may
be regained normally or by powerful magic (such as
wishes or restoration spells). Given the harsh penalties
involved, a necromancer will not subject even a
fiendish familiar to unnecessary risks.
A more powerful fiendish familiar can be a major
nemesis for the party in its own right. In some of
dark Ashton Smith's Hyperborean short stories (such
as "The Last Incantation" and the "Death of Malygris"), the necromancer Malygris was served by a
fiendish viper of tremendous power, that singlehandedly defeated the most powerful wizards of an entire
kingdom when they came to plunder his master's
tower. Such a creature was clearly more of a trusted ally and advisor than a pet to the archmage, no doubt
gated in from the Outer Planes and approached with a
suitable bargain to obtain its willing service. Although
these allies are not strictly familiars in the sense that
they do not share a spiritual bond with the necromancer, they do considerably augment the wizard's
powers and knowledge, simply by working with him
or her. Clearly, a powerful necromancer may have a
formal familiar (mundane or otherwise) and any
number of such extraplanar allies who might take on
the role of lesser henchmen.
Please keep in mind that the previous discussion of
extraplanar familiars has implied that the wizard is
completely evil in alignment. No fiend will willingly
serve a good master, except perhaps to twist him or
her into a servant of evil. Clearly, powerful necromancers of neutral (or good) alignment will attract
other kinds of pets, messengers, and allies from the
Outer Planes. A pure-hearted Witch may be assisted
by an archon or a lesser deva. A powerful Philosopher, on the other hand, may prefer to recruit familiars
from the Elemental Planes, summoning an elemental,
aerial servant, invisible stalker, or even a genie into
service. Necromancers of all alignments can thus gain
the powerful benefits provided by an extraplanar
familiar.
Undying Minions
Although some necromancers enjoy living company, others relish only the presence of the dead, animated in a twisted form unlife by the Forbidden Art.
The creation of undead has always been associated
with necromancy, but its powers are far more expansive than many of the uninitiated would care to
imagine. A necromancer has the power to raise up a
variety of undead into service, not simply the stereotypical automaton.
Independent, self-willed undead such as ghosts,
wraiths, spectres, vampire, and the like can rarely be
created by a necromancer. These creatures usually
come about through some divine curse or by the
malignant force of their own personality. In this section, we are concerned with the necromancer's methods and requirements for creating undead minion.s.
We also address, however briefly, the topic of golem
creation, since it can involve the transfer of life force
into an inanimate object and thus falls into the
murky province of necromancy.
Skeletons. These are the simplest undead for a
necromancer to raise to unlife. Starting at 1st level, the wizard can bring animal forms to unlife (see animate dead animals). At 5th level, she or he can temporarily animate a single human skeleton (see bone
dance). Finally, at 9th level, the wizard can create a
large number of permanent human or monster skeletons (with animate dead).
Certain death priests with access to skeletal servant
can also temporarily animate skeletons, starting at 1st
level. This ability becomes permanent at 5th level,
when they gain access to animate dead. Finally, a few
magical items, such as the staff of skulls and the thunder
of doom can also be used to raise up undead skeletons.
In Ravenloft, it is also possible for a 9th-lcvel necromancer to raise up a giant skeleton (sec the MM) with
even greater powers. Since such creatures are partially
imbued by mysterious Dark Powers, it is generally
impossible to create such a creature outside Ravenloft.
Of course, the evil goddess of Undead may grant such
a boon to members of her priesthood, but such a favor
is unlikely to be granted to a wizard (unless, perhaps,
he or she is a devoted worshiper).
Skeletons are mindless automatons and, as such,
are useful only as soldiers, guardians, porters, and
workers. They are incapable of individual thought or
initiative beyond the instructions given to them by
their creator.
Crawling claw. These animated hands and claws
can be raised up by a wizard or priest starting at the
1st level of experience, providing they have the
knowledge to do so. The secret of this relatively simple necromantic rite can be found in both the Art of
Necromancy and the Book of Shadows (for the wizard
version) and also the Nycoptic Manuscripts (for the
priest version). After the severed limbs have been
assembled, up to one claw may be animated per
level of experience of the spell caster. Once created,
crawling claws can be directed by the telepathic
commands of their creator, but more often, they are
given duties similar to that of the skeleton, whose
intellect (or complete lack thereof) they share.
Zombies. Unlike skeletons, which are merely the
desiccated framework of a creature's form, a zombie
is an animated corpse. Most sages maintain that the
zombie, like the skeleton, is a mindless slave, but this
is clearly not the whole story. Those who have experimented with animated cadavers (most notably Kazerabet in the Art of Necromancy) have revealed that
most zombies remember some facts about their former lives, depending upon how quickly they were
animated after their deaths. Clearly, the animated
corpses of the long dead, whose worm-eaten brains have been filled with cobwebs and rats' nests, will
have little or no recollection of their former selves (in
this case, they conform most closely to the stereotypical description of the zombie in the MM). However,
those zombies who are raised up almost immediately after their deaths can be ordered to recall facts
about their life to their current masters. Despite this
interesting feature, however, a zombie is little better
than a skeleton in terms of its ability to act independently and of its own initiative.
The common zombie can be brought to unlife temporarily by a necromancer at 5th level (with bone
dance) or permanently at 9th level (with animate
dead). A priest can create permanent zombies at 5th
level with animate dead. Note that the clerical as well
as the wizard versions of animate dead can raise animal and monster as well as common zombies.
Shadows. A necromancer can readily summon
these evil spirits from the Negative Material Plane
once at the 9th level of experience (see summon
shadow). These creatures answer a necromancer's
summons willingly, for it provides an easy opportunity for them to feast on life force. Once the summoning expires, these creatures usually return to the
Negative Material Plane very quickly. They do have
free will, however, and if properly approached, may
even enter the wizard's service, assuming that they
will be provided with enough fresh life force to temporarily ensure their loyalty. Highly chaotic, violently hungry, and unpredictable, shadows rarely stay attached to a living master for long, especially if
the wizard has valuable living allies. They can sometimes be found in the permanent retinue of a lich.
Ghouls. Some would maintain that ghouls represent a separate race of free-willed undead descended
from giants and genies. Although this may be the case
for some types of ghouls (such as the Zakharan great
ghul), it is nonetheless possible for an experienced
necromancer of no less than 12th level to create minion
ghouls (or lacedons). The process may be as straight forward as casting ghoul gauntlet, or it may involve a
more obscure variant of animate dead. Regardless of the
rite employed, the procedure must be applied to a still
living individual who dies during the evil incantation
and raises within 24 hours as a ghoul.
Because of their chaotic nature, ghouls can be very
difficult to command, even for their creator (unless
he or she has the special ability to turn or command
undead). Usually, a necromancer will allow ghouls
to wander in packs near the wizard's lair, summoning them only when they are required to perform a
specific task. The ghouls often require some form of
payment in return, usually in the form of living sacrifices (one victim for each ghoul's willing service) or,
at the very least, a large number of fresh corpses.
Dracolich. This undead creature results from the
necromantic transformation of an evil dragon, always
with the help (wanted or not) of at least a 12th-level
necromancer. The wizard prepares a receptacle for
the dragon's spirit by casting enchant an item and also
prepares a necromantic potion. If the dragon consumes the potion (of its own accord, through trickery,
or coercion), it dies, and its life force transfers to the
enchanted receptacle. Later, the dragon's spirit can
reanimate a dead reptilian body. Dracoliches retain all
of their abilities and intellect that they possessed in
life. In addition to immortality, they gain undead
immunities and unique powers.
A dracolich can be an extremely powerful ally for
a necromancer, but it is free-willed and not under the
wizard's complete domination. The creature must
usually be enticed with offerings of treasure in order
for it to undertake any mission on behalf of its living
caretaker. The Cult of the Dragon, which regards the
undead dragon as a semi-divine form, is said to worship the dracoliches they help create.
Ghast. Using methods similar to those outlined
above for the ghoul, a necromancer of at least 14th
level can create ghasts. However, these powerfully
chaotic creatures are even more unpredictably violent than their weaker cousins, and thus much more
difficult to control. For this reason, they are rarely
raised except as an experiment. Afterward, they are
either literally trapped in an area (to serve as unwilling guards), set loose into the countryside (where
they promptly wander far away from their creator's
domain), or simply destroyed.
Ju-ju zombie. These hardy undead make the best
undying servants. They can be created once a necromancer reaches at least 14th level by first slaying a
victim with finger of death (or once the wizard is more
powerful, by casting energy drain) and then animating the dead body. Because of the manner in which
they were slain, ju-ju zombies retain a surprising
amount of their original personality and intellect -
far more than the ordinary zombie. They are capable
of independent, reasoned thought, although their
undying mind is heavily clouded with a sleepy,
dreamlike stupor (hence their effectively low intelligence). Ju-ju zombies are not self-willed, however,
and as long as their creator lives, they will follow his
or her commands with faithful obedience.
If their master dies, they become completely self-
willed, carrying out (as much as possible) any ambitions they may have followed in life. In one of his short
stories ("Necromancy in Naat"), dark Ashton Smith
writes about how a pair of zombies who were once
lovers while they were alive return to their romantic
courtship after their necromantic master dies. Most ju-ju zombies, however, are filled with a latent hatred of
the life they were denied by their creator.
Kazerabet once relied heavily on ju-ju zombies to
help run an entire dictatorship, long before she
embraced the lifestyle of a sage and wrote the Art of
Necromancy. Ju-ju zombies were at the top of her
undead bureaucracy, serving as her chief lieutenants
and messengers. Each ju-ju zombie was given command or authority over a number regular zombies
and skeletons and set to perform a specific task,
which they performed with tireless efficiency. An
appendix in the Art of Necromancy includes a few
secrets about preserving a ju-ju zombie's original
living appearance. Kazerabet admits to employing
ju-ju zombie masseurs in her boudoir, and she
always liked her handsome body servants to be as
aesthetically pleasing and lifelike as possible.
Crypt thing. This creature is a necromantic guardian
set in place by a wizard or priest of at least 14th level to
secure a crypt, graveyard, or tomb. The creature's teleportation attack can be quite disorienting and frightening to opponents, and most often, crypt things act more
as deterrents than physical threats. Unless the necromancer or priest has chosen a tomb or crypt as a lair (or
stores something valuable in such a location), a crypt
thing is unlikely to be a popular topic of research for
that particular spellcaster. Kazerabet hardly gives them
more than a passing reference in her Art of Necromancy,
and the Book of Shadows is little more informative.
Golems. The most powerful necromancers can
create golems. Although not strictly undead, golems
are magical automatons that can be created by transferring some life force or elemental spirit into an
inanimate object. As such, they are a perfect topic of
study, experimentation, and creation for the necromancer, particularly the Anatomist or the Undead
Master. The necromancer can create many types of
golems as detailed in Van Richten's Guide to the Created and the MONSTROUS MANUAL.
The simplest of such creations, which can be
assembled by a wizard of 14th level or higher, is the
necrophidius. It appears to be a huge skeletal snake
topped by a fang-toothed human skull. According to
the Art of Necromancy, it is possible for a necromancer
of at least 16th level to fashion multi-headed variants
of the necrophidius.
A 14th-level necromancer can also fashion a flesh
golem, either by summoning an elemental spirit to
animate the corpse-hewn receptacle or by transplanting the brain of another sentient individual into the
creation. The latter version of the flesh golem, known
as the Ravenloft variant, is fully detailed in Van
Richten's Guide. Finally, at 18th level, a necromancer
may want to create a bone golem, essentially a towering bone colossus capable of terrible destruction.
A few death priests, particularly those serving
deities of Murder and Revenge, have the ability to
create a scarecrow once they reach 9th level. This evil
automaton is created specifically for the purpose of
killing a particular individual, much like an assassin.
Skeleton warrior. This undead creation is formed
when a necromancer of at least 16th level binds the
spirit of a powerful fighter into a specially prepared
circlet, often using the spell life force transfer. The skeleton warrior retains all of the abilities, intellect, and
personality it possessed in life, except that it must
obey, as a willing slave, whoever wears the circlet. Not
surprisingly, all skeleton warriors seek to obtain the
circlet containing their souls so that they may destroy
it and rest in peace. To counter this, the necromancer
either must always wear the circlet or must somehow
restrain the skeleton warrior (perhaps in a locked
room) when the wizard chooses to remove the circlet.
With their high magic resistance (90%), skeleton warriors make almost unbeatable wizard-killers. Undead
Masters are among the few necromancers who would
willingly tolerate such a constant threat in return for
the service of this powerful minion.
It is rumored in the Book of Shadows that a talented
wizard may be able create another type of soul receptacle for a skeleton warrior (like a ring, perhaps) that
would enable an ambitious necromancer to simultaneously control more than one of these creatures.
Other powerful mages, such as the famous Elminster, have noted that it may be possible to bind wizards in such a fashion. For example, Tashara of the
Seven Skulls was said to have bound no fewer than
seven lesser undead wizards into her service before
she was finally outdone by her own ambition and
greed for magical power. Such awesome necromantic bindings, including the subjugation of liches (if
such is indeed possible, as implied in the Art of
Necromancy), are risky enterprises for only the most
powerful necromancers.
Secret Societies
Given the ability to recruit students, henchmen,
extraplanar allies, and undead minions, an ambitious
necromancer could amass a sizable army of underlings, given enough time and determination. Some
wizards, having gone mad with their quest for power
or lacking enough ambition to rise beyond the status of
a petty tyrant, arc content to remain in relative seclusion, basking in the glory of their isolated dictatorship.
Other necromancers are of more modest ambitions. They have absolutely no interest in rulership at
all and are merely content to ignore the entire timeconsuming business of raising followers and minions.
Simply put, they are interested only in tending to their
quiet research.
Finally, some wizards join secret societies - and some join as many as they can.
A secret society provides training, support, information, and contact with like-minded allies for not
only wizards, but priests as well. The secret society
takes the individual wizard or priest, along with his or
her entire private army of followers, and makes them
part of a larger necromantic community, each of the
members of which are dedicated to some mysterious
goal greater than any of them could aspire to singly.
Most campaign worlds have at least a few secret
societies. In the Spelljammer multiverse, the evil
Tenth Pit opposes the honest Pragmatic Order of
Thought; in the Realms, the wicked Zhentarim are
balanced by the honest Harpers; Dark Sun has its
rebellious Veiled Alliance; the Land of Fate has the
incendiary Brotherhood of the True Flame. These
covert Orders - some established for good, others for
evil - help flesh out a campaign world, making it
more realistic, exciting, dangerous, and complicated,
all at the same time. Before we explore a few secret
societies with necromantic interests, it will be helpful
to review some of the basic principles on which these
orders are founded.
Every secret society shares three common attributes. First, a secret society convinces its members
that they are members of a powerful elite. Second,
each society contains arcane rites, code words, recognition signals, and hidden chapter houses to maintain an aura of mystique and secrecy. Third, secret
societies are founded for a concrete and specific goal.
Once the DM understands these three general characteristics, it will be easier to create more realistic
and compelling secret societies for the campaign.
Privileges of Membership. Those who join a secret society immediately gain the support of a wide body
of colleagues. These friends will provide their new
member with arcane training, financial resources,
even magical items. Society chapter houses may contain huge reservoirs of knowledge, monetary wealth,
and caches of arcane devices for use by members of
their Order. A necromancer joining a secret society
may gain access to the Order's huge spell books to
augment his or her own personal power.
A priest, on the other hand, gains the spiritual
support and guidance of other members of his or her
own religion. He or she may also gain access to new
spells and devices which can only be fabricated or
granted by members of the religious Order.
Finally, there are the social intangibles of belonging to such an organization. These sorts of things
may not mean much in terms of strictly interpreted
game statistics, but they are still fundamental motivators of human behavior. Membership in a secret
society is considered a privilege by those who belong
to it, and even its evil subscribers truly feel a sense of
fellowship and camaraderie with their peers. The
most depraved necromancer may still crave to be
welcomed and appreciated by a few fellows who
understand his or her problems and arc interested in
helping resolve them. Members of a secret society
quickly come to believe that they belong to a privileged community of the elite.
Rites of Passage. As their very name implies, a
secret society is a covert organization whose existence, location, purpose, and agenda must all be kept
strictly hidden from the mainstream civilization.
This is usually done to protect the society and its
members from its enemies (either civilization as a
whole, a reigning government, or an opposing secret
society). Incidentally, this intense aura of secrecy
helps reinforce the sense of mystique, privilege, and
all the other social intangibles associated with the
Order as well.
Every secret society contains a set of codes, recognition signals, and an established rite of passage that
ensures its continued secrecy and the loyalty (fanaticism) of its members. Potential new converts are not
immediately welcomed into a secret society. There are
numerous tests and secret rituals that must be performed in order to become a member. By performing
these rites (however abominable), an aspiring member gradually "proves his worthiness" to the Order
and is finally allowed admittance as an initiate.
The Goal. Once indoctrinated, an initiate is usually assigned one or more members of the Order to help complete the training (brainwashing). Even
good-aligned societies attempt to mold the minds of
their members to establish some sense of conformity
and provide motivation to work for a common goal
of extraordinary importance. This brainwashing can
be accelerated, if need be, with mind-influencing
magic and medicines, but it can just as easily be performed by a highly charismatic individual with a
thorough understanding of human nature.
A society's true goal is almost never revealed to its
low-ranking members. As they "prove their worthiness" in a sequence of increasingly difficult tests,
small pieces of a much larger puzzle are gradually
revealed to them as they rise in the ranks of membership. Finally, only after their unswerving loyalty to
the Order has been proven by countless tests, the
true hidden purpose of the organization will be
revealed to them, like a religious epiphany.
A covert Order maintains a cult of secrecy even within its own hierarchical organization. Only the
highest members realize its true agenda. Although a
secret society can exist for a good or noble purpose,
their methods of indoctrination and brainwashing
are easily twisted and can become a powerful tool of
evil. They are thus ideal tools for both corrupt necromancers and fanatical death priests.
For the remainder of this chapter, we present a
few necromantic secret societies that the DM may
care to transplant into a campaign. These organizations can serve as shady employers and questionable
contacts for information, but more likely, they will
.serve as villains or long-term enemies. Feel free to
modify or embellish any of the following descriptions to suit the particulars and religious pantheons
of the campaign.
The Cult of Worms
Founded at the same time as the monarchy of the
Necromancer Kings on the island of Sahu, this religious organization of priests and necromancers is dedicated to the baatezu lord Thasmudyan. The ancient god of Undead was worshiped on Sahu long before
the arrival of the Necromancer Kings, and perhaps the
Cult of Worms in some way reflects ancient religious
practices forbidden since the times of earliest antiquity. Regardless of its sinister primeval origins, the
cult still survives today as a secret society. Its members
have wormed their way into all the nearby governments and principalities.
The high priestess of the cult, a mysterious figure
revered only beyond the lands of Sahu as the Undying One, is a lich named Vermissa. The cult's current purpose is to secure Vermissa's freedom from a prison established by the first Necromancer King. Its
members recruit powerful necromancers from the
surrounding realms, enticing them to the island of
Sahu with promises of magical power and lichdom.
In exchange for such knowledge, Vermissa demands
that the wizard destroy one of the nine magical seals
keeping her imprisoned on Sahu. Vermissa has not
yet revealed any of her long-term (post-freedom)
goals to her followers, but her ambitions have always
been lofty, and spurred by centuries of imprisonment, the clever lich has had concocted a grand infernal
scheme. Vermissa, the Cult of Worms, and the heritage of the Necromancer Kings are all featured in
the sample campaign in Chapter Nine.
The Scabrous Society
This far-flung organization consists primarily of
death priests who are dedicated to the god of Pestilence. Its membership is also open to necromancers
(usually members of the Archetype kit). Although
nominally dedicated to the unravelling of governments, their true purpose is the complete and utter
destruction of all civilization. They are necromantic
nihilists who want to bring disease and death to
every village, town, city, and kingdom in society.
When a small chapter house secretly opens in a
community, its priests and spies first collect as much
information as possible about the new location. Then
they will then begin an ever-widening campaign of
destruction in the town, sowing as much discord as
possible in the process, to keep their presence camouflaged. They defoliate fertile pastures, poison livestock, pour pestilent potions into communal wells, and spread gold coins marked with plague curses. The Scabrous Society leaves only deserted ghost towns in
their wake, stripped of all their valuables. The chapter house then moves on to a new location and repeats the cycle of destruction.
Leaders of each chapter house communicate regularly with their superiors to report their progress, receive advice, and take new orders. They are well-organized and respond quite violently against those
who thwart their plans. Retribution squads, armed
with deathdust-envenomed weapons, arrows of harming, and plague bolts (see Chapter Eight for more on
these) will quickly make an example of any foolishly
heroic opposition.
The Cult of Pain
This group is directed by a sadistic sect of the
priests of the God of Sorrow. Their goals include
spreading their excruciating worship and indulging
their cruel appetites. Necromancers, particularly evil
Anatomists and Archetypes, favor the cult.
To escape persecution, the cult locates its temples
deep underground or in the most secluded reaches of a
city's slum. Their flagellation ceremonies, while quite
painful (especially when they pass around the brine-
soaked sponges after the first chorus), are only to gradually accustom the worshiper to the delight of
receiving pain and inflicting it on others. These services
are a front and a brainwashing device. Only after an
initiate has demonstrated, time and again, his or her
willingness to expose him- or herself and others to
pain and suffering will that person be introduced to
the hidden mysteries of the cult.
Beneath each temple, secured against intrusion by
powerful magical wardings, the evil priests maintain
an extensive torture chamber where they devise and
perform the most horrific experiments. The cult hierarchy maintains extensive contacts with slavers, rogues, and kidnappers (usually fanatical cult members) who
help keep a constant supply of helpless victims in the
temple dungeons. The cult does not torture its own followers (except in the flagellation ceremonies). It needs
them to help spread the faith and serve the temple.
The Anatomical Academy
Since the mutilation of corpses is regarded as
anathema in many civilizations, this secret organization exists to spread the detailed knowledge of the
human body and to provide its members with fresh
cadavers on which to practice. The hierarchy consists
mainly of Anatomists, but the Order is open to all wizards, priests, healers, or surgeons with knowledge of
interest in anatomy.
Members of the Academy meet for secret lectures
or conventions in secluded warehouses, dungeons,
or even the abandoned classrooms of a university.
They maintain frequent contact through private correspondence, magical spells, and enchanted devices.
The Academy also has established a network of contacts with local authorities, usually located at cemeteries, morgues, prisons, and poorhouses, to deliver
cadavers to subscribing members. Once these bodies
have been magically embalmed by the Academy's
field agents (low-level Anatomists), the cadavers can
be transported over large-distances by mundane
means (usually ship or wagon). In extremis, the
corpses can be animated and disguised to facilitate
transport, but such methods carry the danger of
attracting too much attention. The Academy strives
to keep a low profile or risk the swift condemnation
(and perhaps persecution) by the most conservative
and righteous (lawful good) members of society.
The Academy is basically a neutral organization
that exists merely to facilitate the collection and dissemination of necromantic knowledge. Bodies are
accepted at the back door for polite thanks, a sack of
gold, and no questions. They have absolutely no interest in learning about the identity of their new "specimen." Some scrupulous Anatomists insist that their
corpses must have died a natural death, but other less-
principled individuals merely require that their merchandise be "essentially intact." It is not uncommon
for murderers to dispose of an unwanted body by selling it the Academy. The organization frequently hires
rogues and adventurers to establish new contacts with
potential sources of cadavers and also to transport
large shipments of harvested corpses to its most
secluded members.