I have a long history with The Thing.
One of my earliest memories is watching the 1951 Howard Hawks version with my mom and dad. I was about three or four years old, curled up on the couch in between them, with the blankets pulled up to my chin. I can still vividly remember my horror as I watched the shadow of Will Arness' Thing out in the blizzard, casually slaughtering the team's sled dogs. To this day, that scene of the arctic scientists trying to determine the shape of the magnetic anomaly in the ice—cheesy music sting and all—holds an eerie power for me.
Catching the 1982 John Carpenter version on cable was one of my formative pre-teen experiences. I was already a horror film junkie by that point, well versed in everything from Hellraiser, to Evil Dead, to Alien. I considered myself quite the jaded little gore connoisseur. And if you had told me I was about to watch a movie that would blow me out of the water, one that would genuinely scare me, I would have laughed right in your face.
The Thing, though, was some straight up next-level shit. Everything about it, from the Ennio Morricone score, to the perfect cinematography, to the still-unequaled practical creature effects, was a bar-raising landmark. Combine that with the tight pacing, the claustrophobic sets, the paranoid direction, and the virtuoso acting performances, and you have one of the most perfect horror films ever made.
Naturally, when I got around to reading the original novella that inspired both films—1938's Who Goes There? by John W. Campbell—I was already predisposed to liking it. And I did. No, it's not quite the timeless masterpiece of horror storytelling that Carpenter's film is. The ending isn't nearly as exciting. The sense of menace doesn't quite build the same way that it does in Lovecraft's better-written tales. Aside from McReady, the characterizations are thin to non-existent.
But as a pulp SF tale of the "men-with screwdrivers" school, it more than delivers. Campbell sets the claustrophobic tone in the story's first lines, describing the queer, mingled smells that choke the Antarctic camp's tunnels. When McReady comes on the scene—here as a meteorologist rather than a pilot—he is described in appropriately pulpy terms, a red-haired giant, a bronze demigod come to life. When the creature is at last revealed in the block of ice, Campbell gives us the almost superstitious reactions of the otherwise coldly rational scientists. The discord produces a fantastic effect.
All in all, the opening scene is a master class in establishing mood, setting, and tone while simultaneously kicking off the story with a bang. I'd even go as far as to say this opening is the one thing that Who Goes There? legitimately does better than either of the film versions, both of which take a little time to orient the viewer before introducing the horror.
Which is why despite my excitement, I have a few reservations about the upcoming release of Frozen Hell, from Wildside Press.
In case you haven't heard yet, writer Alec Nevala-Lee recently rediscovered the lost manuscript for the original, novel-length version of Who Goes There?. A Kickstarter campaign to cover publishing costs met its goal in less than twelve hours, meaning we'll all get to read it early next year.
Admittedly, my first reaction to this news was sheer, unbridled joy. And for part of me it still is. So why the reservations?
According to the project's Kickstarter page, Frozen Hell is apparently 45 pages longer than Who Goes There?, with most of the new material taking place before the novella's opening. In other words, that fantastic, moody first chapter will take place somewhere around page 30-35 or so.
Which brings me to an interesting thought about the novella, and half the reason for today's post.
One of the most common bits of advice trotted out to new writers is not to open a story with the dreaded "info-dump." You should hook your reader into the story first, giving them relatable characters and conflict, before giving them blocks of expository text or dialogue. Otherwise, the reader won't care.
There's plenty of truth to that advice, enough where it's a pretty reliable rule of thumb. But what always struck me about Who Goes There? is how much of that opening scene really is just info-dump. For several pages, we have McReady and the other scientists just standing around in a room, talking about this frozen creature.
What's more, in this same scene Campbell violates another piece of writing advice that's become akin to gospel over the years: having characters talk about things most of them already know, purely as an excuse to fill in the reader. Or "As you know, Bob," dialogue.
Campbell partially sidesteps it here, by having Commander Garry address the assembled men first:
You know the outline of the story back of that find of the Secondary Pole Expedition. I have been conferring with second-in-Command McReady, and Norris, as well as Blair and Dr. Copper. There is a difference of opinion, and because it involves the entire group, it is only just that the entire Expedition personnel act on it.
The rest of the opening consists largely of McReady and Blair explaining the events leading until now, events many of the assembled men were already present for. But because it's presented as a briefing intended to get the station's personnel all on the same page, it works.
Even so, it was a genuinely audacious storytelling choice, particularly in a format as dependent on fast-paced thrills as the pulps. The whole thing is carried by Campbell's moody description and the gradual reveal of the situation through dialogue, both of which give the scene its necessary suspense. More proof that you can break any writing convention, provided you do it with style.
Of course, the discovery of the Frozen Hell manuscript reveals that scene's original placement, which was roughly a quarter of the way into the story. That's much more in line with the standard "hook your reader, explain things later" advice. While I'm genuinely curious to see what hook Campbell uses, something tells me it won't be quite as innovative or memorable as an in-media-res, "as you know, Bob," info dump.
There's no question that I'm going to buy Frozen Hell the second it's available for general release. Maybe it's better than the novella. Maybe the scenes leading up to that tense, wonderful cold open will somehow make it more powerful. Maybe not.
In some ways, I feel like a kid who snuck a peek behind the curtain at a magic show. Now that I've seen all the mirrors and the hidden trap doors, I'm just sitting in the audience, hoping the Astounding Campbell can still wow me.
Here's hoping. Either way, I'll be the first in line.
For a limited time, I'm making my Roman-era steampunk short "Pax Mechanica" available as a free online read.
Want to know what happens when one of Ceasar's War Walkers encounters the Celtic Britons? Click here to find out.
Pop quiz, hot shot.
Let's say you're a complete newcomer to roleplaying games. You and your friends want to jump into D&D. And you, you lucky bastard, have been elected Dungeon Master. Well, guess what? You're literally the only player who needs to have the rules on hand. Serves you right for being so handsome and personable.
What do you do? What do you do?
90's action-movie references aside, your options are as follows:
Amazon can take the sting out of the cost of the core rulebooks, dropping the cost to around $60 for just the Player's Handbook and Monster Manual. The Starter Set generally runs close to retail, but you can sometimes find a third party seller packaging it with extra dice.
My personal recommendation? Don't start with "official" D&D. Start with the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game.
Like most independently-published retro-clone games, the core rules are available as a free PDF. Unlike most of them, that free PDF includes all art and illustrations. The game's publisher has also made the print version available at cost, meaning a physical copy of the rulebook will only set you back $5.
And that rulebook is an all-in-one, containing the complete Players' Guide, Game Master information, and Monsters. Getting the same "complete" rules for 5e will run you around $150.00, by comparison.
Below is my copy of the core rulebook, along with six sets of dice (and bags) I scored for $10.99. Total cost? Less than sixteen bucks before tax.
For my money, this is the best "D&D Starter Set" you can build. It's cheaper than the official one, provides complete rules, and each player gets their own set of dice. Hell, if you wanted to be extra generous, you could buy each player a copy of the rulebook. You'd still come out of it cheaper than the 5e Players' Handbook.
Sure, BFRPG lacks some of the bells and whistles of 5e, like Backgrounds and Feats. But it's close enough to give you (and your players) a real taste of the game. You can always upgrade to 5e later, after you're all hopelessly addict— er, umm... comfortable with the game. Even if you don't, BFRPG has enough free supplements available to keep your group going for years.
No matter what version of the game you start out with, just remember: the smart DM lets his players buy the pizza. The wise DM gives them an XP bonus to make sure they do it again.
For part one of this series, click here. For part two, click here. For part three, click here. For part four, click here. And for part five, click here.
To close this little experiment out, I'm going to end right where the games do: with Dracula. Now, statting out the big boss for a Castlevania game could be easy. After all, he's a vampire, right? Why not just use the same Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game template I did for Carmilla?
Well, that gets back to what I said in my last post, about Ravenloft and Castlevania being two properties with different feels to them. Case in point: Strahd Von Zarovich is probably my favorite D&D villain of all time. He's devilishly smart. He's an accomplished wizard, who uses both magic and his environment to his advantage. But he's basically just a standard vampire, with a few tweaks to his power level. A canny-enough group of PCs could conceivably surprise him in his coffin, drive a stake through his heart, and end the problem. It's not likely, mind you, but it's possible.
Dracula from the Castlevania series, however, is another matter entirely. The climax is always a pitched battle, with Dracula taking on multiple forms. His human facade melts away, revealing a hideous, demonic nature. Only by defeating his final form (however many he goes through), do our heroes save the day.
And sure, part of that is because it's a platformer game, and platformers always end with a big boss fight. But I also think it's an essential part of the franchise. Simply put, if you're running a Castlevania-themed game, the only way to make it "feel" like Castlevania is to end it with an epic, shapeshifting, "now-face-my-TRUE-power"-style boss fight.
To that end, the first thing to realize is that Castlevania Dracula isn't really a vampire. Not in the Bela Lugosi/pop-culture/European folklore sense. Castlevania Dracula is really a maō, or Japanese Demon Lord.
Don't just take it from me. The Japanese title of the first game is Akumajou Dracula, or "Demon Castle Dracula." The akuma is an evil fire-spirit in traditional Japanese folklore, and when Christianity came to Japan in 1549, Akuma was the name applied to Satan. Language drift being what it is, "akuma" was sometimes shortened to "ma," meaning devil or demon, and maō is "demon ruler" or "demon king."
This article on Legends of Localization goes into more detail, but for our purposes it's enough to know that Dracula is much more than a vampire.
With this in mind, I decided to stat out three of Dracula's forms separately. I did use a modified vampire for the first one, since it seemed appropriate. For the second, I leaned heavily on the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game Infernal races (specifically the Malebranche and the Vrock). The last one—based on the cluster of floating heads from Castlevania III--is a modification of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game Giant Flying Brain.
But enough talk! HAVE AT YOU!
Vlad Dracula Tepes (First Form)
Armor Class: 21
Hit Dice: 12 (attack bonus +12)
No. of Attacks: 1 or magic
Damage: 1d10, or magic
Movement: 40' or 60' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 12 Fighter
Treasure Type: Special
In his first form, Dracula appears to be an abnormally large vampire. He resembles an 8' tall human male, with pale skin, dark hair, and flaming red eyes. His canine teeth are sharp, and his features are vaguely lupine.
Like mundane vampires, in this form Dracula casts no shadow and no reflection. Unlike common vampires, he is perfectly capable of crossing running water and entering another's home without invitation. Additionally, mirrors and garlic have no effect. He may pretend to have these weaknesses at first, in order to lure his enemies into false confidence.
A cross presented with conviction will keep him at bay, provided the wielder is at least level 3 (for more information on this weakness, see the Vampire, p. 124 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game). He may also be turned, but the Cleric attempting to do so faces a -5 penalty.
Dracula is immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. He does not use weapons, preferring to use spells in combat. If forced to fight physically, he slashes at his enemies with his claws for 1d10 damage.
Dracula is not known to bite in combat. However, his bite inflicts 1d3 damage, and drains two level of energy for each round he continues to feed. While feeding, he suffers a -5 Armor Class penalty. Victims reduced to 0 hit points by in this manner die, and they will rise again as vampires during the next sunset. These new vampires are permanently under Dracula's control, and always act as if under a Charm spell.
Dracula has access to many magic spells. One of his preferred methods of attack is to cast Teleport (which he can do at will) to take an advantageous position behind his enemies, and then attack from a distance with Hellfire. For purposes of spell duration and saves, Dracula's Caster Level is 20.
Dracula can command common nocturnal creatures. Twice per day, he can summon 10d12 rats, 5d6 giant rats, 10d12 bats, 3d8 giant bats, or 3d8 wolves. The creatures must be nearby to be summoned. Once called, they arrive in 2d6 rounds and obey his commands for 2 hours.
At will, Dracula can transform into a swarm of 4d4 giant bats. The bats are identical to those detailed on p. 58 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game. Dracula often uses this ability to flee the area when surprised or overmatched. As long as even one of these bats survives, he is capable of returning to his first form, retaining the same number of Hit Points he had before transforming.
Dracula also has the common vampire's Charm gaze, which his victims must save vs Spell to resist. Victims save at -4.
Dracula cannot be harmed by non-magical weapons. Reducing him to 0 Hit Points or exposing him to direct sunlight for more than 5 rounds only destroys his first form, causing him to assume the next one.
1st Level Spell
Range: 100' + 10'/Level
This spell causes a small ball of fire to shoot forth and strike a target of the caster's choosing, causing 1d6+1 damage. The target must be at least partially visible to the caster. For every three caster levels after 1st, an additional fireball is generated: two at 4th level, three at 7th, four at 10th, and the maximum number of five at 13th level and above.
Vlad Dracula Tepes (Second Form)
Armor Class: 24
Hit Dice: 14 (attack bonus +12)
No. of Attacks: 1 or Special
Damage: 1d10 or Special
Movement: 30' or 15' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 14 Fighter
Treasure Type: Special
In his second form, Dracula resembles a huge, ugly, gargoyle-like creature. Membraneous wings connect his arms to his torso. Ram-like horns extend from the sides of his head.
Dracula is incapable of true "flight" in his gargoyle form, as his wings cannot support his massive body. However, he can use them to leap vertical and horizontal distances of over 15 feet. He uses this ability in combat, leaping at his enemy and slashing for 1d10 damage with his feet.
He is also capable of breathing modified Fireballs at will. Dracula's fireballs are treated as if generated by a fifth level caster, causing 5d6 damage, and having a range of 150 feet. Rather than saving vs. Spell for half damage, his targets are allowed a save vs. Breath Weapon to avoid damage altogether.
While in this form, Dracula can only be harmed by magical weapons and spells cast by a character of 3rd Level or higher. He is completely immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. Additionally, as he is no longer assuming the shape of an undead creature, he cannot be turned. Reducing Dracula's Second Form to 0 Hit Points does not kill him. It only causes him to assume his Third and final form.
Vlad Dracula Tepes (Third Form)
Armor Class: 14
Hit Dice: 24 (attack bonus +1)
No. of Attacks: Magic or Special
Movement: 30' or 15' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 14 Magic User
Treasure Type: Special
In his Third and final form, Dracula appears as a massive cluster of 4d4 giant heads. The heads float 5-15 feet in the air, continuously pulsating and moaning. Upon first seeing this form, all creatures must save vs Spell or be paralyzed for 2d8 turns, as if targeted by a Hold Person spell.
In this form Dracula can cast spells as a 14th level magic user, although for purposes of damage, spell duration, and saves, his Caster Level is treated as 20.
Additionally, each of the heads in the cluster drips a corrosive acid from its mouth. The acid causes 2d8 points of damage. Those hit by the acid drops must make a save vs. Breath Weapon. If unsuccessful, the acid dissolves 1d4 random unenchanted object on the target's person, rendering them useless.
When Dracula's Third Form is reduced to 0 Hit Points, he is not killed. His spirit is either returned to the primordial chaos beyond the world, or it is absorbed by the walls of Castlevania itself. Dracula will Reincarnate into his First Form in exactly 100 years, unless outsiders attempt to revive him early.
This is part of a continuing series. For part one, click here. For part two, click here. For part three, click here. And for part four, click here.
While the previous posts in this series have mainly been concerned with showing how to adapt Lamentations of the Flame Princess' various character classes to Castlevania-appropriate archetypes, this post will handle the setting of Transylvania itself. And while I dipped into Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse and Symphony of the Night to build a D&D style adventuring party with, neither game really offers much in the way of setting material outside the castle.
For that, I'm going to go back a little farther into the franchise's history, to the much-maligned proto-Metroidvania, Castlevania II: Simon's Quest.
Please, hold all torches and pitchforks until the end.
Just a brief side note: If I really were to run a Castlevania-themed campaign for a group of PC's, I'd probably lean heavily on Simon's Quest to do it with. While the 8-bit NES wasn't quite up to the developers' ambitions, the game has some good bones to build off of.
I would probably have the players roll up original characters, with at least one being the next heir to the Belmont line. I'd have the game take place a few years after one of the "major" Dracula battles outlined in the main series, and have the Belmont player character's relative be suffering from the same curse Simon did: The wounds taken in his battle against Dracula are not healing. He is slowly dying. As his condition worsens, he has visions of becoming a creature of the night. A fortune-teller reveals the truth. If he dies before the next full moon, he will become a vessel for Dracula to be re-born, stronger than ever. The only way to lift the curse is to bring Dracula's spirit back into its previous body. But Dracula's minions have scattered his remains, to ensure that his curse will run its course.
Honestly, the only major difference in the set-up would be that the "cursed" Belmont wouldn't be accompanying the PCs. I'd hole him up in the basement of a church, surrounded by garlic and crosses, with monks praying over him day and night. It would then be up to the group of relatively green and inexperienced adventurers to run a desperate race against the clock, with only minimal guidance from their mentor.
(I'd also make sure that the enemy kidnapped the cursed Belmont as the night of the full moon approached, giving the PC's one more thing to worry about. But that's just me...)
Anyway, there are a few resources I'd recommend using here. First and foremost is A Guide to Transylvania, which I mentioned back in my Alucard post. The PDF is available on DriveThruRPG for about eight bucks. The crunch inside is AD&D 2e specific, but everything else is system agnostic. This book details everything from Transylvanian history, to peasant superstitions, to secret societies. No other supplement will help you fill in the details of the Transylvanian countryside as well as this one.
The second (more expensive) resource is the current D&D 5e Curse of Strahd campaign book, which is an update and expansion of the original Ravenloft module. Why this one instead of the (many) older ones? First, it's widely available in hardcopy. And while I'm not completely in love with what I've seen of 5e's rules, you just can't deny that Wizards of the Coast puts out a high quality product these days. This thing will survive some wear and tear at the table. Second (and more importantly), it maps out and expands the land of Barovia far beyond what the older editions did.
The third (completely free) resource is the Transylvania map that appeared in the old NES Game Atlas. A high-quality scan is available here at castlevaniadungeon.net.
The simplest, easiest way to take care of mapping the Transylvania countryside is just to use the foldout map that comes with Curse of Strahd and swap out the names. For example, swap out the starting village of Jova from Simon's Quest with the Village of Barovia from Curse of Strahd. Swap out Yomi—the nearly-abandoned town just outside Castlevania—with the destroyed village of Berez.
While this won't be 100% faithful to the geography on the Castlevania map, enough of the landmarks in Simon's Quest have a rough Barovian equivalent to make it work. Below are some suggestions, with corresponding map and page references.
Castlevania Location / Barovia Location / Curse of Strahd Foldout Map Location / Curse of Strahd Page Reference
Town of Jova (Area 1) / Village of Barovia / Location E / Page 40 - 48
Town of Aljiba (Area 16) / Village of Valliki / Location N / Page 95 - 124
Yuba Lake (Area 14) / Lake Zarovich / Location L / Page 38
Town of Veros (Area 6) / Village of Krezk / Location S / Page 143 - 156
Town of Yomi (Area 48) / Ruins of Berez / Location U / Page 161 - 166
Laruba Mansion (Area 36) / Wachterhaus/ N/A (Located in Vallaki) / Page 110 - 115
Brahm Mansion (Area 21) / Argynvostholt / Location Q / Page 129 - 142
That should be enough to get the idea. That said, I'd probably also swap out some of the obviously non-European names with some real-world Transylvanian ones. Targoviste for Aljiba, for example.
One pro to this approach is that it requires relatively little prep time, especially for an inexperienced DM. Curse of Strahd has plenty of fleshed-out NPCs, side-quests, and description boxes for just about every building and room, if you decide to use them. You can use the encounters, too. Stat conversions from 5e to LotFP are simple: Just use the closest equivalent monster from the free Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game, and add two to the creature's Armor Class. Don't sweat the other details.
Me? I probably wouldn't go that far. I'd probably just use the maps, crib or ad-lib all of the descriptions from the Transylvania Guide, and wing it with the NPCs and encounters. Similarities aside, Castlevania and Ravenloft are two different properties, with two entirely different feels to them. Relying too heavily on the published material just means you're playing Curse of Strahd. Which is okay. But it isn't Castlevania.
Which, of course, leaves open the question of Castlevania itself.
The Castle Ravenloft layout in Curse of Strahd is unchanged from the original I:6 Ravenloft module. It makes a perfectly serviceable stand-in for Dracula's Castle, provided you're taking your inspiration from the first couple of games. But if you want something closer to the sprawling, changing, living embodiment of Chaos featured in Symphony of the Night and most of the later games, you'd be better off creating your own funhouse-style Mega-dungeon. As with anything, which you choose will depend heavily on your group, their preferences, and their play style.
Before I close this installment out—and since I'm already mining Castlevania II for ideas—I'm going to give some sample stats for that game's two Boss monsters. For Carmilla, I used the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game version of the Vampire, with almost no modifications. For Death, I re-skinned the BFRPG Lich, added a bunch of Hit Dice, and swapped out his spell casting for a handful of specific, spell-like abilities.
If neither one seems challenging enough, both are easy enough to scale up in power. After all, when it comes to "end game" content, you're bound to have a pretty high level party. Watching them effortlessly steamroll the final bosses would be sort of anticlimactic. If that's a concern, my personal preference is to creatively choose the location for the encounter.
Instead of meeting Carmilla in her vampire lair right away, why not have the PC's encounter her at a masquerade ball, using the powers of her enchanted mask to appear as one of the living? Force them to use roleplaying and guile to maneuver her to a place they can fight her without harming innocents. What about having the PC's run into Death on the grounds of an old battlefield or cemetery? He could raise dozens of allies among the dead, forcing even the most powerful group of PCs into a pitched battle for survival.
Granted, if you're planning to use Castlevania II as your template, you could always just let the PC's walk right by them with no consequence...
(Note: the Lamentations of the Flame Princess rules assume ascending armor class and a base, unarmored AC of 12. If using these creatures with a system that has a base AC of 10, simply subtract 2.)
Armor Class: 21
Hit Dice: 9 (attack bonus +8)
No. of Attacks: 1 weapon or special
Damage: 1d8, or by weapon, or special
Movement: 40' or 60' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 9 Fighter
Treasure Type: Special
Beautiful, vain, and cruel, the aristocratic vampire Carmilla is one of Dracula's most ambitious servants. Famous for her inventive and sadistic tortures, she is best known for bathing in the blood of young women. She possesses Carmilla's Mask, a powerful, cursed artifact.
Like all vampires, Carmilla casts no shadow and no reflection. She cannot cross running water, and may not enter another's home unless invited. She cannot tolerate the strong odor of garlic, and will recoil from a mirror or from a cross presented with conviction (for more information on these weaknesses, see the Vampire, p. 124 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game).
Carmilla is immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. If unarmed, she will treat her hands like claws, raking her target for 1d8 damage. When armed, her vampiric strength gives her an additional +3 to damage when using melee weapons. Her bite (though seldom used in combat) inflicts 1d3 damage, and drains one level of energy from her target for each round she continues to feed. Feeding places her in a vulnerable position, and she suffers a -5 to her Armor Class.
Victims reduced to 0 hit points by Carmilla's feeding die, and they will rise as vampires during the next sunset. These new vampires are permanently under Carmilla's control, and always act as if under a Charm spell.
Carmilla can command common nocturnal creatures. Once per day, she can summon 10d10 rats, 5d4 giant rats, 10d10 bats, 3d6 giant bats, or 3d6 wolves. The creatures must be nearby to be summoned. Once called, they arrive in 2d6 rounds and obey her commands for 1 hour. If she chooses, Carmilla can also assume the form of a giant bat or a giant wolf at will.
In addition to the above abilities, Carmilla also shares the common vampire's Charm gaze, which her victims can save vs Spell to resist. Unlike her more common brethren, Carmilla's charm is exceptionally powerful, imposing a -3 penalty rather than the standard -2.
Carmilla cannot be harmed by non-magical weapons. Exposing her to direct sunlight for more than 1 round destroys her, and submerging her in running water causes her to lose 1/3 of her Hit Points per round for three rounds, with death occurring on the third round. Any other method of reducing her HP to 0 merely incapacitates her, causing her to fall into an apparently death-like state. But if her body is not exposed to sunlight, submerged in running water, or burned, she will begin to regenerate 1d8 hours later, at a rate of 1 hp per turn.
Carmilla's Mask (Artifact)
This artifact is a smooth, silver mask, closely resembling the kind commonly worn during masquerade balls. When the mask is placed onto a human or a dhampir, dozens of hollow, silver spikes appear in the inside, causing it to latch onto the victim's face, and inflicting 1d3 damage. Each round the victim is prevented from removing the mask, it drains 1 energy level, feeding as a vampire, until the victim is reduced to 0 Hit Points. Once dead, the victims do not rise as vampires.
If the mask is freshly fed, bloody tears will pool in the corner of its eyes, and for the next 1d12 hours it will convey several abilities on any vampire that wears it. While wearing the mask, the vampire casts both a shadow and a reflection. Garlic, holy symbols, and holy water have no effect. The vampire may enter any home with no invitation, cross running water, and even walk in the sunlight—although this last will still be uncomfortable.
Additionally, victims of the vampire's Charm gaze suffer a further -2 penalty to their saving throw.
Armor Class: 26
Hit Dice: 15 (attack bonus +10)
No. of Attacks: 1 touch, weapon.
Damage: 1d8 touch+drain, by weapon.
Movement: 30' or 60' (fly)
No. Appearing: 1 (Unique)
Save as: Lvl 15 Magic User or Cleric (use lower)
Treasure Type: Special
Death is Dracula's top lieutenant. Fiercely loyal to his master, Death will fight to protect him at all costs. Death's actual nature is unknown, although he is believed to be an evil manifestation of pure Chaos. His physical form resembles that of the classical "Grim Reaper," a skeletal body wrapped in a tattered cloak. He carries Death's Scythe, an artifact-level magical weapon.
Upon first encountering Death, all intelligent, living creatures must save vs Spell or flee in terror for 2d6 rounds. Even on subsequent encounters, Death's gaze is terrifying. All creatures that meet it must make a save vs. Spell or be paralyzed with fright for 2d4 rounds. Dhampirs, due to their half-undead nature, get a +2 bonus to this check.
Death prefers to attack with his scythe when possible. If forced to make a physical attack, his touch causes 1d8 points of damage and drains 1d4 points of Constitution, while simultaneously healing him for the equivalent amount.
The Constitution loss is permanent. It can only be healed by the casting of a Restoration spell, at a rate of 1 point per casting. If a character's Constitution score falls to 0, he or she immediately dies, and rises the following round as a lesser wight. This creature is identical to the wight described on p. 126 of the Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game, except its attack causes 1d4 points of damage and 1 point of Constitution loss. All characters killed and transformed into wights are considered permanently dead, and cannot be Raised. They may still be Reincarnated.
Death is able to cast Speak With Dead, Animate Dead, and Raise Dead at will. And while he rarely feels the need to disguise himself, he is able to do so with the aid of Polymorph Self. Additionally, Death is always treated as having an active True Seeing spell cast on his person. For purposes of spell duration and saving throws, Death's caster level is 20.
Death is immune to all non-magical weapons. Like all skeletons, Death only takes half damage from bladed weapons, and only one point from arrows, bolts, or sling stones (plus any applicable magical bonus). Additionally, he is immune to Sleep, Charm, and Hold spells. Death cannot be turned by the cleric's Turn Undead spell.
Death cannot be permanently killed. When reduced to 0 Hit Points, Death's physical form is destroyed, and his spirit re-joins the primordial Chaos outside the world. After 1d10 months, Death will Reincarnate on the physical plane, although in a weakened form equivalent to a wraith (see Basic Fantasy Roleplaying Game, p. 127). He must then drain the equivalent life force of 2x his normal Hit Dice (a combined 30 levels) in order to regain his full strength and powers.
Death's Scythe (+3 Great Weapon)
Like Death himself, Death's Scythe is believed to be an evil manifestation of Chaos. In combat, Death's Scythe delivers 1d10 damage, with an additional +3 magical damage bonus. On any natural attack roll of 18 or better, the target must save vs Magical Device or die instantly. Any mortal being who attempts to touch the handle of Death's Scythe must make the same saving throw, but at a -4 penalty.
3 times per day, Death's Scythe can create 1d3 Phantom Sickles. These are smaller, ghostly sickles that spin out towards their intended victim. The sickles last for 1d4 rounds, continuously attacking, and causing 1d6+1 damage per successful hit.
Creatures killed with Death's Scythe may not be Raised, but they may still be Reincarnated.
I'm an award-winning science fiction and fantasy writer based out of North Carolina. This is where I scream into the digital void. I like cookies.