Aaron Peori Ghost Homebrew: Putrid Legion
Aaron Peori
Rest in Peace
Putrid Legion
Lesser Dead
Dead By Contagion
There is no place in the underworld that does not have dark corners or abandoned buildings where the dead fear to walk. The first warning one has that he has wandered too far from the halls of the civilized dead is the smell, both putrid and stagnant like a salt swamp that has begun to dry up. The next is the damp patches, slick like bile, that cover seemingly random surfaces. The final warning is the sensation of bone claws tearing at your flesh, and if you survive the burning agony of the sickness in your veins will be your undoing.
When the Great Contagion swept across Creation nine out of every ten died. Their souls were flushed into the Underworld, coming in numbers so great they clogged the courses of the great rivers and forever altering the landscape of the forsaken land. Worse, the jams would break and burst, drowning entire realms in fetid waters that erased memory and corrupted the corpus. Not since the first Neverborn sunk have so many souls been lost to the Void.
Most of those who were caught in this flood were sent to Oblivion, of the majority who survived their memory and self were worn away like a river carves a canyon, only a rare few survived with some remnant of self. The Putrid Legion are the victims of the Great Contagion and they truly are legion, a persistent and growing problem. Their corpus is rotting and bloated, flesh sloughs from their bones and they exhibit an astonishing array of visible symptoms of disease; hives and coughs and unhealthy pallors and humours of all kinds. Perhaps the memory washing water of the rivers has twisted their ideas of their final moments such that they represent all disease and sickness in their forms?
The Contagion Dead are a growing threat because like the disease that spawned them they have the capacity to spread. While thankfully not as fecund as the blight which created them the wounds they inflict with their gore covered claws rapidly putrefy and can infect even spiritual flesh. The difficulty to resist infection from these wounds is increased by the ghost's Essence, which is typically one to three. These wounds even infect spirits and other supernatural beings, though Exalted will find they suffer the illness they still maintain their inability to be killed by the infection. They also share an instinctive desire to work with each other to spread and multiply, and will retreat from confrontations where they are outmatched or are more than willing to inflict damage and retreat back to their damp lairs and allow the disease in their flesh to finish their victims. All mortals that die to this infection become members of the Putrid Legion barring magical intervention, as do any ghosts who fail their rolls to reincorporate. Demons, gods and elementals must resist the siren call of Oblivion upon death from this disease with a Willpower roll at a difficulty equal to the ghost's Essence, though spirits whose Essence exceeds the ghost's are immune to this.
For all their danger the Putrid Legion is not considered a critical threat because of their incapacity for long term planning. The Contagion Dead prefer to retreat to dark and abandoned areas when left to their own devices and can remain quiescent for decades or even centuries until they are stirred up by some fool. In the case of a large enough nest they might end up chasing the interloper back to whatever shelter or settlement they retreat to. Occasionally some exceptional individuals among the legion recall some fragments of themself and feed upon their fellows and victims for dregs of power and can grow powerful and intelligent enough to serve as captains or petty warlords that can stir up their lessers. Rumors of such rarities are sure to draw the attention of heroes of the Underworld who will often be promised good rewards for eliminating such monsters and cleansing their nests before they grow too dangerous to surrounding realms.
Necromancers summon the Putrid Legion to serve as shock troops and guardians, particularly in tombs and waste sites or cursed locations that no sane being would wish to inhabit. Their ability to grow their numbers over time is a pleasant side effect but may go out of control if not monitored carefully. While the single blighted ghost you place in the depths of a tomb complex may gain the assistance of a dozen fellows from the foolish scavenger lords who sought to plunder its territory the ghosts that rise are not actually bound unless one does it for each individual.
The Contagion Dead exist to spread their wretched lot. If forced to fight without using their diseased claws or otherwise to retreat without inflicting infected wounds they gain one Resonance. At ten Resonance they enter a state of torpor, retreating to the darkest and dampest location they can find and can not be coaxed out until their Resonance drops below ten. They lose one Resonance for every being that dies to their infection.
Lesser Dead
Dead By Contagion
There is no place in the underworld that does not have dark corners or abandoned buildings where the dead fear to walk. The first warning one has that he has wandered too far from the halls of the civilized dead is the smell, both putrid and stagnant like a salt swamp that has begun to dry up. The next is the damp patches, slick like bile, that cover seemingly random surfaces. The final warning is the sensation of bone claws tearing at your flesh, and if you survive the burning agony of the sickness in your veins will be your undoing.
When the Great Contagion swept across Creation nine out of every ten died. Their souls were flushed into the Underworld, coming in numbers so great they clogged the courses of the great rivers and forever altering the landscape of the forsaken land. Worse, the jams would break and burst, drowning entire realms in fetid waters that erased memory and corrupted the corpus. Not since the first Neverborn sunk have so many souls been lost to the Void.
Most of those who were caught in this flood were sent to Oblivion, of the majority who survived their memory and self were worn away like a river carves a canyon, only a rare few survived with some remnant of self. The Putrid Legion are the victims of the Great Contagion and they truly are legion, a persistent and growing problem. Their corpus is rotting and bloated, flesh sloughs from their bones and they exhibit an astonishing array of visible symptoms of disease; hives and coughs and unhealthy pallors and humours of all kinds. Perhaps the memory washing water of the rivers has twisted their ideas of their final moments such that they represent all disease and sickness in their forms?
The Contagion Dead are a growing threat because like the disease that spawned them they have the capacity to spread. While thankfully not as fecund as the blight which created them the wounds they inflict with their gore covered claws rapidly putrefy and can infect even spiritual flesh. The difficulty to resist infection from these wounds is increased by the ghost's Essence, which is typically one to three. These wounds even infect spirits and other supernatural beings, though Exalted will find they suffer the illness they still maintain their inability to be killed by the infection. They also share an instinctive desire to work with each other to spread and multiply, and will retreat from confrontations where they are outmatched or are more than willing to inflict damage and retreat back to their damp lairs and allow the disease in their flesh to finish their victims. All mortals that die to this infection become members of the Putrid Legion barring magical intervention, as do any ghosts who fail their rolls to reincorporate. Demons, gods and elementals must resist the siren call of Oblivion upon death from this disease with a Willpower roll at a difficulty equal to the ghost's Essence, though spirits whose Essence exceeds the ghost's are immune to this.
For all their danger the Putrid Legion is not considered a critical threat because of their incapacity for long term planning. The Contagion Dead prefer to retreat to dark and abandoned areas when left to their own devices and can remain quiescent for decades or even centuries until they are stirred up by some fool. In the case of a large enough nest they might end up chasing the interloper back to whatever shelter or settlement they retreat to. Occasionally some exceptional individuals among the legion recall some fragments of themself and feed upon their fellows and victims for dregs of power and can grow powerful and intelligent enough to serve as captains or petty warlords that can stir up their lessers. Rumors of such rarities are sure to draw the attention of heroes of the Underworld who will often be promised good rewards for eliminating such monsters and cleansing their nests before they grow too dangerous to surrounding realms.
Necromancers summon the Putrid Legion to serve as shock troops and guardians, particularly in tombs and waste sites or cursed locations that no sane being would wish to inhabit. Their ability to grow their numbers over time is a pleasant side effect but may go out of control if not monitored carefully. While the single blighted ghost you place in the depths of a tomb complex may gain the assistance of a dozen fellows from the foolish scavenger lords who sought to plunder its territory the ghosts that rise are not actually bound unless one does it for each individual.
The Contagion Dead exist to spread their wretched lot. If forced to fight without using their diseased claws or otherwise to retreat without inflicting infected wounds they gain one Resonance. At ten Resonance they enter a state of torpor, retreating to the darkest and dampest location they can find and can not be coaxed out until their Resonance drops below ten. They lose one Resonance for every being that dies to their infection.
I like the way @EarthScorpion deals with ghosts and wanted to try my hand at it. The Putrid Legion are meant to fill the same niche in the Necromancers arsenal that Blood Apes do in the Infernalists, powerful but dangerous shock troops and the kind of thing you can plop down in an area you need guarding. Like Blood Apes, they also need a bit of baby-sitting to not commit atrocities. They also serve as functional low level antagonists for an Abyssal or otherwise Underworld focused campaign, particularly the rare few who achieve the status of Greater Dead and become active rather than passive threats to nearby realms.
The bit at the end about Resonance plays into the Abyssal rewrite I'm working on, where Resonance works like Limit for the dead. All ghost species have a Resonance track that fills up when they act contrary to their nature and lowers when they indulge it. Basically like demonic Limit it means you can't bind a ghost to act against its nature because eventually they will reach a point where the denial of their compelling drive will cause them to become impossible to control.
The bit at the end about Resonance plays into the Abyssal rewrite I'm working on, where Resonance works like Limit for the dead. All ghost species have a Resonance track that fills up when they act contrary to their nature and lowers when they indulge it. Basically like demonic Limit it means you can't bind a ghost to act against its nature because eventually they will reach a point where the denial of their compelling drive will cause them to become impossible to control.
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