can take in your hands and look at in broad daylight,
and that rattles when you shake it Do you now?
- F. Marion Crawford
"The Screaming Skull"
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes
- William Shakespeare
Macbeth
Most of the ancient dead were once living, breathing people, but they defied death to walk again among the living - as mummies. Their tortured spirits remain bound to now lifeless bodies. I have infrequently discovered doomed spirits who were compelled to become ancient dead through no fault of their own. Most ancient dead, however, were not innocent victims of powers beyond their control.
After years of research and interviews with eyewitnesses who have encountered the unquiet dead (including two interviews conducted magically with the dead themselves), I have concluded that some spirits pass into death with a predilection for returning as mummies. The common factor among these cases seems to be a fascination with and desire for the trappings of the mortal world. This emphasis makes the ancient dead most closely akin to ghosts, at least in psychological terms.
There is, of course, one explicit difference between ghosts and the ancient dead: The latter are fully corporeal, and the former are not. In my work on ghosts, 1 described one class of spirits that possessed solid form. Are these spirits ancient dead? No. A corporeal ghost creates a body for itself through force of will or supernatural power. Such is not the case with the ancient dead; the spirit of such a being actually reoccupies the body it possessed in life. If one searches diligently enough, one often can locate a corporeal ghost's mortal remains, which might prove advantageous in combating the spirit. A search is not necessary in the case of an ancient dead - the creature's mortal shell is immediately present.
Indeed, because the ancient dead are fully corporeal, any discussion of them invites comparisons with the other corporeal undead, namely vampires and liches. Outwardly, most mummies strongly resemble liches. Both creatures tend to have withered or skeletal bodies, and both share an intense desire to destroy or manipulate the living. If one is unfortunate enough, as my companions and I were, to encounter a mummy that retains spellcasting abilities it had in life, it might be next to impossible to know what manner of creature one is facing until it is too late.
The five important distinctions between a lich and a spellcasting sort of ancient dead are these:
1. Transformation: A lich initiates and completes the process that transforms it from living being to undead. While the prospective lich still lives, it begins an elaborate, dangerous, and expensive ritual in which it is the principal, if not the only, player. A mummy is created through a process in which the subject is only a passive participant. Though an individual can arrange to return from the dead as a mummy, it must depend upon others to carry out its wishes. Planned or otherwise, the process can truly begin only after the subject dies. The first step is embalming the corpse. True, a mummy can be created spontaneously through natural preservation of a body and the spirit's own force of will. Even then, some external event triggers the mummy's return.
2. Phylactery: Every lich possesses a phylactery that houses its spirit. The location and destruction of this vessel must be the focus of any effort to destroy a lich. A mummy might possess an item similar to a phylactery, but this item does not house the creature's spirit, which resides in the creature's body. However, the item can be the keystone of that creature's existence.
Not all ancient dead have key items, however. Some mummies can be physically destroyed by a direct assault on their bodies, though this is never a simple undertaking. Other mummies cannot be destroyed, but they can be laid to rest under the right circumstances.
3. Maintenance: A lich requires periodic rituals of maintenance to sustain its unliving state. A mummy can exist indefinitely with no special effort. It might require small amounts of herbs or other rare substances to maintain its powers, or it might require veneration from mortals. No mummy, however, risks destruction if this dependence isn't satisfied; it merely suffers a temporary ability loss.
4. Increasing power: A lich continues to accumulate more power and knowledge throughout its existence. The full extent of a mummy's powers is set when it is created, although it might receive its powers slowly over time. While the latter mummy, like a lich, becomes more powerful, it does not gain new abilities; instead, it overcomes limitations that keep it from using its full powers.
5. Departure: A lich eventually discards its physical form and departs the mortal realm to explore other modes of existence. Barring outright destruction, a mummy is inexorably bound to the mortal world. Surely no creature can exist forever; at some point, a mummy's body must be forced to succumb to the ravages of time and simply fall apart. I confess that I have no idea how long this process takes. It would seem that human empires can rise, fall, and crumble to windblown dust before a mummy finally disintegrates from age.
A mummy is similar to a vampire in that both sorts of creatures are destined either to remain in the physical world or perish. In addition, a mummy might exhibit powers similar to those of vampires: flight, the ability to charm victims, changing shapes, and animal summoning. This is, however, where the similarities end.
Unlike the vampire, the mummy has no need to feed upon the living. Often less fearsome in battle than a vampire, a mummy also has few or none of the typical vampire's weaknesses. A mummy is generally unaffected by garlic or mirrors, for example. As with the ghost, however, a mummy might have an aversion to objects or substances. These articles are linked to the mummy's origins.
A mummy shares a few notable characteristics with other undead. It has no need for food, air, or sleep, since its body is lifeless. Thus, it is also immune to all forms of poison and paralyzation, and immune to enchantments that produce sleep, charm, or hold effects.
The ancient dead as a group are unique among undead in that they appear to have a positive-energy component. This does not mean the ancient dead are good - far from it. Rather, they have at their disposal an alien power that is disruptive and inimical to life. It is through this positive connection that the ancient dead animate and maintain their corporeal bodies.
Positive energy might also be the source of the ancient dead's most dreaded attack, mummy rot. This appalling disease is always fatal, and it defies all mundane efforts to cure it. Only magical intervention can alter its course. Perhaps a mummy, when it strikes, transfers a portion of its positive energy to a victim. It might be a caustic effect of such energy that makes the victim's flesh rot away. The energy's disruptive effects on the body might also explain why a mummy's victims do not heal properly, and why they cannot benefit from healing magic while afflicted with rot.
The theory of positive energy is also helpful in explaining three other powers every ancient dead creature possesses to some degree: rejuvenation, invulnerabillty, and fear. As I explained in my work on ghosts, rejuvenation is the power to regrow portions of the body that have been destroyed; its effect is similar to a vampire's regeneration power. Regeneration, however, involves the accelerated healing of wounds, whereas rejuvenation reconstructs the creature's whole body. Clearly, a mummy must draw on a supernatural source of matter and energy to accomplish such a feat.
All mummies are resistant to weapons, to one degree or another. Their strangely preserved tissues are nearly impervious to physical harm, and only enchanted or specially created weapons can affect them. Even then, physical blows are never as effective against mummies as one might expect.
Ancient dead are similarly impervious to some energy attacks. Most often they are unaffected by cold, but some can shrug off other forms of energy as well. Worse, a few can resist several kinds of energy. I suspect this resistance stems from a supernatural reinforcement of the body.
All mummies inspire some form of fear or dread in the mortals who encounter them. This fear can go beyond simply inducing opponents to flee. Victims can be so overcome with dread that they are unable to act. My studies suggest that mummies project a magical aura that overcomes and disables a living person's psyche. This aura is constant and it seems to stem from an inexhaustible source of energy.
Readers should not hastily conclude that any creature that does not project an aura of palpable fear is not a member of the ancient dead. Many high-ranked mummies have the ability to halt or even delay the effects of their powers, and some mummies inspire fear by their gaze, voice, or gesture. 1 once encountered a mummy that could inspire fear in an area of its own choosing.
Belinderissa and I descended the grand stair and entered a narrow vault. Behind us, I heard soft footfalls as the rest of the group followed. I was anxious to decipher a lengthy runic inscription on the walls of the vault, and asked Bellnderissa to hold her torch higher as we moved into the chamber.
Before I could study the runes, a section of the wall slid open with a stony whisper. A handsome youth clad only in a white linen loincloth and conical headdress stood before us. He smiled and made an elaborate bow, his hand describing circles in the air with a double flourish.
"Holy water, Claudia," I called to my assistant as I raised my siluer cross to ward off the creature. As I spoke, Belinderissa aimed a vicious swipe at the youth's neck and struck a blow that should have separated the creature's head from his shoulders. Instead, there was a dull thud, as the sword failed to bite. The impact left behind only a dry gash.
"Quickly, Claudia," I commanded, but still the holy water was not forthcoming. Turning away from the beast, / beheld the remainder of my party rooted in place on the stairs, motionless except for a communal nervous quiver. My companions looked for all the world like a stand of leafless trees trembling in an autumn wind. "I fear you must distract our young foe a while longer, Belinderissa," I said as I fumbled with Claudia's haversack. Since that incident I always have carried my own holy water.
- From the private journal of
Dr. Van Richten
How did the ancient dead first come to haunt our world? I have uncovered very little scholarly debate on this subject. It seems that ancient dead are so elusive that they have escaped the notice of scholars who are not as dedicated to cataloguing and defeating undead menaces as I. Indisputably, the fact that most ancient dead easily can be misidentified as other sorts of creatures has contributed to this ignorance.
When confronted with the question of the origins of the ancient dead, most sages and mediums are unable to give any credible answer at all. A few priests, adventurers, and seekers of forbidden lore speculate that those rituals and processes used to create the ancient dead were developed after some long-ago theorist witnessed a spontaneous occurrence. One of my colleagues, Deved de Weise of II Aluk, in Darken, has offered a succinct explanation of the reasoning behind this theory.
As to the probable origins of the creatures you call "ancient dead," you [Van Richten] must concede that history is full of incidents involving the return of the dead to the world of the living. Here in Darken, the rising of the dead is ingrained in local legend.
If, as you seem to have documented, departed spirits can return to their preserved bodies through force of will, then it must have been inevitable that some priest, obsessed with death and hungering for an extended life (or desperate to grant such a "gift" to a demanding liege) must have come upon an account of such an incident (just as you have) or actually witnessed the event.
Armed with this knowledge, the priest would need only the proper research materials and sufficient time to recreate the event.
- From the private letters of
Dr. Van Richten
Because I have uncovered conclusive proof that the ancient dead can rise unassisted, I find it hard to contradict de Weise's reasoning and conclusion. There is a more sinister theory about the origins of the ancient dead, however, to which I must attach greater verisimilitude because it is derived from firsthand knowledge. It comes from the journal of De'rah, a wandering priestess and a gifted medium. This fair lady claims to have been only a visitor to these lands of ours, and in any event she has disappeared utterly. Before departing on her final journey, she entrusted a copy of her journal to a wandering Vistana, who delivered it to me. The fact that lady De'rah could induce any Vistana to serve as a reliable messenger only increases my admiration for her abilities.
Once the mummy lay quietly in its coffin again, we sought to discover some method of putting it to rest permanently. While my companions set about trying to decipher the numerous cartouches and hieroglyphs on the tomb's walls, I fingered my enchanted prayer beads and chanted a divination spell. Soon, I was conversing with the creature.
Q: Huseh Kah, why do you walk
among the living?
A: Because of the curse of Anhktepot.
Q: Who is Anhktepot?
A: The first of my kind.
- From the journal of De'rah
De'rah was able to pose no less than half a dozen questions to Huseh Kah, but 1 have included only the two most pertinent here. De'rah concludes that the ancient dead did not walk the land until a being called Anhktepot returned from death. Unfortunately, De'rah and I parted ways before her encounter with Huseh Kah's mummy, and I could not share what I knew of Anhktepot with her.
I first heard the legend of Anhktepot during a visit to the land of Har'Akir, many years ago. According to Har'Akir! folktales, Anhktepot was an ancient king or pharaoh. He became so fond of ruling that he could not bear to think of his reign ending, even in death. He bent all his will toward cheating death and returning to his throne. When he finally died (murdered, some say), his burial was accompanied by a lavish ceremony and the ritual deaths of all his most valuable advisors. If Anhktepot does still walk the dunes of his arid country, he has truly gotten his wish.
If Huseh Kah was correct in his belief that Anhktepot is the progenitor for all the ancient dead, then it appears that, in seeking his own immortality, Anhktepot loosed an entirely new evil into the land.
As a game term, "ancient dead" refers to a class of corporeal undead creatures, of which the bandage- wrapped mummy is a familiar example. To qualify as an ancient dead, a creature must meet the following criteria.
The creature must have died.
True ancient dead creatures possess the following powers to some degree: rejuvenation, cause fear, invulnerability, and cause disease. There powers are derived from the creature's connection with the Positive Material Plane and are fully described in Chapters Three and Four. Corporeal undead such as ghouls and ghasts lack a connection with the Positive Material Plane and do not qualify as ancient dead.
