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Strange Vampires of Mystara

by Cab Davidson from Threshold Magazine issue 29

From the Journal of Averyx, Immortal of Time, Finder of Lost Gods and Scholar of the Mysteries of the Multiverse

“What is Vampirism?

Vampirism isn’t undeath. It is much worse. Vampirism is an unholy synergy of deadly disease and the curse of never finding death, and is the most perfect form of living entropy. But perhaps that’s an overly poetic way of describing what is actually a very, very simple thing. Vampirism is above all one thing—something called a virus.

Caption: Vampire by Jeffrey Kosh (https://jeffreykosh.wixsite.com/jeffreykoshgraphics/home)

We don’t entirely know how or where in the multiverse vampirism came about. Yes, I know, we could find out, we could travel in time to even stop it, but we’ve come to a sort of gentleman’s agreement with the Entropic chaps not to research this. Sometimes our schemes go awry, sometimes theirs do, and perhaps it is enough that we acknowledge this and work within the new norms that these cockups create rather than go back and try and clean up the mess. Whichever of the entropic immortals created vampirism is keeping quiet, and with good reason. Vampires neither respect nor revere the entropic pantheons, nor indeed any immortals, as is evidenced by their extraordinary aversion to any and all holy symbols.

Most diseases come about on their own without any immortal help, of course. They may be caused by how living things live, how they age, or more often by tiny living or almost living things around them. Cholera, goblin pox, the common cold, harpy clap, these are examples of diseases that arose through entirely natural processes. Lycanthropy in all its myriad forms was created by human mages “playing god” (and why not, I say, that is after all in the finest traditions of Alphatian wizardry!). But vampirism is more unusual again in that it can only have been created by an immortal; it has specific traits that cannot be formed from mortal magic or science.

To get down to specifics, vampirism is caused by a virus. I shan’t bore you with the specifics of how a virus works, but it is sort of like the smallest of animalcules, the smallest, swarming forms of life, simplified to a point where it can only exist in association with its victim. And, quite uniquely, it exists in a form that touches not only the body of its victim but also the link between the soul of the victim and the time of their own death. The result is the stuff of true horror—the soul can no longer enter Limbo, rather it is bound to the body such that merely killing it no longer severs the link. The subject cannot die, but they are no longer ‘alive’ in terms as would be recognised by any creatures of the positive planes either. And thus they are stuck between worlds, trapped by a metaphysical virus in a strange existence that deprives them of any normal means of sustenance. To exist they must still feed, but being neither alive nor dead they need to tap into the very essence of living things to do so.

Like most viruses, the vampirism virus (Orthohepadhavirus sanguinum, as named by the Blackmoorian Centre of Disease Control) usually has a limited range of hosts. But on occasion it may infect creatures that perhaps are not associated with vampirism. And being such a strange virus, one that exists in metaphysical as well as physical space, the list of species that can be infected is more broad, more complex, than anyone would have imagined. I shall now outline how these infections occur in various new hosts, and what the implication of this is.”


Baobhan Sith

From the Journal of Averyx

"The fey of Mystara are not beholden to the laws of the immortals, to the realities that obviously bind the living to immortals and (less obviously) immortals to the living. And they are among the most variable of all creatures, each being essentially an undying soul that may choose to return as almost any other fey form. This is in most respects a great strength of the fey realm, which is older and more bizarre than you’ve ever considered. That is, however, a subject for another day. Suffice to say that, despite the fey not being subject to the ravages of time, they also do not exist outside of time and change, and the choices they make as to what to return as are influenced by the mortal world around them. Theirs is a different world to that of the mortals, but it is one that holds a sort of mirror to it, and as such many of the ailments that inflict mortal man can also inflict the fey.

The vampirism virus rarely takes hold of the fey, partly because there are so few encounters between the fey and vampires. When it does, the result is tragic. Rather like the way that the soul of a mortal is cut off and unable to pass on, the soul of the fey cannot find its way back to the spirit realm. Finding itself unable to reform, it transforms its body into a twisted interpretation of both the fey and the mortal.

It is quite interesting that while the fey soul can construct a huge range of forms, and come back as almost any other known (and ample as yet unknown) forms, the baobhan sith has but one. It appears as if a red-headed human female, invariably clad in a green velvet gown hiding a lower body in the form of a deer. Human sages in the regions of Heldann and Norwold (where the baobhan sith is most common) have speculated that this may have been influenced by an unknown entropic immortal, chosen as the form for infiltration. But sages do have a habit of making things up to cover gaps in their knowledge, and the truth is far simpler—there is but a single mutant of the virus that can infect fey, most common in the northern parts of Brun, and it cannot quite copy the form of the humans it previously infected. This strange visage is the best it can do.

So what we have in the baobhan sith is a creature of darkness but which is still in essence a fairy, with some of the strengths of each and a mixture of weaknesses that reflect both. Perhaps, in swapping one form of immortality for another far less pleasant one, the baobhan sith is the vampiric variant which most deserves our pity.”

Baobhan sith*

AC: 2
HD: 7** to 9**
Move: 120' (40') or per animal form
Attacks: 1
Damage: 1d10 + double energy drain
No. Appearing: 0 (1)
Save As: F7-9
Morale: 11
Treasure Type: F
Intelligence: 10
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 1,250; 1,750 or 2,300

The rare and dangerous baobhan sith are believed to be the unusual product of vampiric infection of fey creatures. It is unknown exactly how they are created, but the result is one of the more feared and hated undead.

They appear as beautiful women with pale red hair, invariably wearing green velvet dresses that hide the fact that rather than human feet they have the hooves of red deer. They can gaze at any foe within 120', who must make a save vs. spells (with a -2 penalty) or be charmed, and this (alongside their great beauty) is used to attract victims. They can at will take the form of a raven, black cat, deer, or hooded crow. In any form, a baobhan sith regenerates 3 hp per round, starting from the round they first take damage. They may also assume gaseous form at will. All such transformations take 1 round to complete. They may summon any of the following creatures to assist them, and if they are within 300 yards they will arrive as quickly as they can.

Creature

Number

Creature

Number

Cats

2d10

Ravens

5d10

Great Cats

1d6

Valravn

1d8

Deer

2d8

Eagles

2d8

Baobhan sith are like vampires in many ways, but there are important differences. They cast a reflection in a mirror, and they do not abhor garlic. They do not need to retreat to a coffin, nor does sunlight harm them (although they prefer to hunt by night, to hide their deer-like feet and footprints). They spend the day in mist form, merged into the soil. They suffer no restrictions crossing running water. Lastly, they have no immunity to normal weapons, nor is a wooden stake required to kill them—but iron weapons must be used (see below). They are unable to approach holy symbols and are turned as if vampires.

They are somewhat vulnerable to iron, and weapons containing iron in as pure form as possible cause them more harm than those which do not. Mundane steel weapons cause normal damage to them, whereas magical weapons up to +2 enchantment cause half damage, and weapons of +3 or greater enchantment contain so little iron in an appropriate form that only the magical bonus causes damage (e.g. any blow from a sword +4 causes 4 points of damage to them). Baobhan sith are immune to first and second level spells. A baobhan sith reduced to 0 hp will turn to mist and retreat, merging into the earth until the following sunset. Unless the final (killing) blow to kill a baobhan sith is made with a pure iron (rather than steel) weapon then it will survive and return to solid form the following night.

A human killed by a baobhan sith rises the next night as a vampire, but independent and not under control of the slayer, whereas an elf killed by baobhan sith rises as a banshee. It is postulated that a sidhe and other fey may return as a baobhan sith. Other creatures are believed to remain dead.

There are baobhan sith spellcasters, and many are clerics—they can be clerics or magic users of up to 9th level. Note that spellcasting undead may have some resistance to turning (see RC).

Peuchen

From the Journal of Averyx

“It was in the ancient days of the Azcan empire that the peuchen variant of vampirism first arose, which makes it one of the oldest of the vampiric bloodlines. They were created by priests of Atzanteotl, in what can only be described as one of the most massive perversions of natural order in the history of Mystara.

The work to create peuchen was accomplished primarily by the priest, Cuetzpallee, a quite brilliant man in his own way. While he had no hope of ever understanding that vampirism was caused by a virus, he grasped that the means of infection included (as well as draining the life force of the living) depositing something new in the bodies of the dead. He was a Mystaran of rare genius to work this out, but the discovery came at an unimaginable cost. He sacrificed thousands in disgusting ceremonies to Atzanteotl, his means of execution being a vampire under his control, the horror of his work being compounded by the rapid demise of (most of) the neonate vampires created.

His work eventually reached an unacceptable cost even to the dark Atzanteotl-worshipping kings he served, and in his own eventual quest for immortality he travelled to new lands seeking victims for his greatest crime against the living. He would produce, in honour of his Immortal master, the perfect vampire in the image of a feathered serpent. He settled in a faraway land, a place on the cold shores of what would become the Great Bay of Norwold, and there he built his new temple. He had found what he most desired—a colony of metamorphs he could enslave to make his vision come true.

Over the course of many years, almost all the metamorphs died. But through prayer to Atzanteotl and self-sacrificing rituals, Cuetzpallee finally succeeded in his task—and predictably his creation escaped him and infected many of his acolytes. His new creation exceeded expectations and had much of the shapeshifting capacity of its metamorph forebear, but still needed a connection to other-worldly power to produce more of its kind. Thus, it preyed on clerics, and the plague thereof destroyed Cuetzpallee’s order, and he eventually fell himself. Not ungrateful, Atzanteotl saved his soul and honoured him with presence in his demonic court, where he can still be found to this day. He’s not such a bad chap, for a demon, you understand. His mind is as sharp as ever, and I think he has earned his place as one of Entropy’s most respected lieutenants.

Meanwhile, his creations have periodically wiped out clerical orders throughout history. And to this day they are a significant hazard in the lands of the Atruaghin.”

Peuchen*

AC: 2
HD: 7**
Movement (slithering): 120' (40')
Movement (flying): 240' (80')
Attacks: 1 bite or special
Damage: 1d10 + double energy drain or special
No. Appearing: 1
Save As: F8
Morale: 11
Treasure Type: F
Intelligence: 10
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 1,250

Peuchen are intelligent shapeshifting vampiric spirits. Their natural form is a blue, feathered snake with wings radiating multiple colours of feathers, but they may take the form of any living animal that they have seen. Such a transformation takes a single round, and the peuchen may then use any of the natural attack forms or abilities of said animal. A peuchen may also assume gaseous form, that transformation also taking a single round. They are by nature predators, preferring sentient prey but quite willing to consume mindless beasts to survive.

Like other vampires they possess a gaze ability. Once per round, in addition to any other activities a peuchen may gaze at one target, which must make saving throw vs. paralysis with a -2 penalty to the roll or be paralysed for 3d6 rounds.

Peuchen may summon any one of the following creatures, which will if within 300 feet (yards outdoors) come to their assistance.

Creature

Number

Creature

Number

Snake, spitting cobra

1d6

Lizard, giant gecko

1d8

Snake, giant rattler

1d4

Lizard, giant draco

1d4

Jaculus

2d10

Lizard, giant tuatara

1d3

Like all undead, peuchen are immune to sleep, charm and hold spells, and all forms of mind-affecting magic. When injured, they regenerate 3 hp per round, and they can only be struck with magical weapons. A peuchen reduced to 0 hp turns to gaseous form, must return to the earth of its lair, to which it is bound, and it reforms into its normal winged snake form therein. In this state a cleric can kill a peuchen with a single touch of their holy symbol.

Peuchen cannot enter hallowed ground, except if that ground is dedicated to an entropic immortal. They cannot approach within 10' of a well-presented holy symbol. A peuchen can only hunt at night, but unlike a vampire is not physically damaged by exposure to sunlight. If they fail to rest within the earth of their lairs during the day, they suffer 2d6 damage per day, and are unable to regenerate that damage until they do.

A victim killed by a peuchen will rise as undead. Most humans or demi-humans will rise again as wights, the following sunset, under control of the slayer. A cleric of 5th or higher level killed by a peuchen will appear to remain dead, the body indistinguishable from any normal corpse. One month later, a new peuchen, the tortured spirit of that cleric, will rise from the earth at the location of the cleric’s death, independent of its slayer, and ready to wreak revenge on a world that allowed it to die thus.

Jubokko

From the Journal of Averyx

“When I first learned of Mystara, as a world that existed far across the Universe from the homeworld of my people, I was stunned by the savagery of the wars that had been waged there in its ancient days. And when I first visited and observed the world closer up, I was saddened at how little things had changed between the time of those stories and my arrival. It is not just the loss of life and the damage to civilisations that is to be lamented, but also the strange, unintended consequences of such actions.

Death is an unfortunate necessity for the process of life, but if enough souls should pass in the same place and time that puts a tremendous strain on the fabric of the multiverse. Life is natural, death is natural, but there is nothing natural about the wholesale slaughter of sentient beings. We observe this in all the great disasters that have befallen Mystara: all had unintended consequences. Whether that takes the form of dangerous radiance energies being trapped in a range of notorious artefacts, the creation of magical locations, or even the wholesale cursing of lands for all time, the impact of such events is surely apparent to scholars of the history of Mystara.

Great battles attract many dark forces, including vampires, nosferatu, and other haemovores. Their presence at a time of extreme metaphysical disturbance can affect the nature of the land around them, their excessive feeding causing leaching of virus into the land itself, combining to produce some of the oddest, rarest and most dangerous offshoots of vampirism.

The jubokko is the most frightening of them. They are, thankfully, rare, being most common in Ochalea (where a nest of vampires with a tradition of particularly messy feeding has frequented battlefields for centuries) and the Isle of Dawn (where the history of warfare between the great empires is so intense that it has created many strange phenomena). The jubokko is a great tree that has absorbed a huge volume of spilled blood infused with the vampiric virus through its roots; the metaphysical aspect of the virus allows it to infect the tree but only when such slaughter has occurred. The tree gains a certain amount of malign intelligence in addition to a perverted version of the vampiric skillset, and takes stewardship over the cursed site of the battlefield. And it soon cultivates strange plant-like monsters to accompany it.”

Jubokko*

AC: 2
HD: 9***
Movement Rate: 60' (20')
Attacks: 1 branch
Damage: 2d6 + Energy Drain
Number Appearing: 0 (1)
Save As: F9
Morale: 10
Treasure Type: F
Intelligence: 10
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 3,000

A mighty tree that has been on the site of a battle and become infused in the energies of destruction and blood of the fallen, the jubokko most resembles a beautiful, leafy tree while being in temperament and behaviour most akin to a vampire.

During the day the jubokko turns into liquid form, that of blood, and dissipates its essence into the earth. At night it rises again, as a tree, and stalks the fields and woodlands for a perfect place to lie in ambush. It most favours roadsides and pasture where victims are likely to be heading home from a hard day’s work, or may be leaving to tend herds or flocks before dawn.

Jubokko have multiple means of attack. They can form a mesmeric pattern among their leaves for the attention of a single victim within range (60'), who must make a saving throw vs. spells or be charmed and attracted to approach the tree more closely. Closer targets can be attacked with a modified branch, with a hollow tube, and which is sharpened at the end. Any victim struck takes 3d6 damage and suffers a single level of energy drain. If the jubokko’s hit roll is a 16-20 then the victim is skewered and in addition to normal damage will suffer a single level of energy drain per round until dead or the branch is removed (taking a character’s action for the whole round). While the jubokko can only attack with a single branch per round, if a victim is skewered another branch may be used, and a jubokko is able to employ a maximum of 6 branches in this way. After they have fed, the lush green leaves of the jubokko take on an autumnal red shade.

Creature

Number

Creature

Number

Amber Lotus Flowers

1d8

Strangle Vine

1d10

Archer Bush

1d8

Whipweed

1d10

Killer Tree

1

Vampire Roses

1d8

Jubokko frequently tend their hunting grounds for the growth of other dangerous plant-like monsters, which will (if they can) assist the jubokko. Only creatures already in the area around the jubokko can answer the call.

Victims of jubokko are absorbed into the tree, and their faces can be seen in knots in the bark when in moonlight. The faces of elves or dryads killed by the jubokko remain animated, and those entering melee with a jubokko that has consumed such a creature must make a save vs. spells or fall to the ground in fits of tears at the sight of their soundlessly screaming faces.

Jubokko can only be struck by magic weapons, and are immune to sleep, charm, hold, and all mind-affecting magic. They have none of the typical weaknesses of vampires, being immune to garlic and not repelled by holy symbols, and having no hearts to stake. They do however take double damage from fire-based attacks, which they fear, and they are killed if reduced to 0 hp by fire. They can be turned as vampires.

Vrykolakas

From the Diary of Averyx

“It is well understood that lycanthropes and vampires share an historic animosity. To many, even among the immortals, this seems quite strange. Both are after all creatures of the night, with lycanthropes craving the flesh of creatures and vampires preying upon their souls, one might imagine that a synergistic relationship may be possible. The truth is very far from that. The two can never come to terms, they will never be allies. And the reason is surprising.

Old Lord Lycan was a wily soul, and I will admit that I have a grudging admiration for what he achieved. He was the wizard, tucked away in the wilds of Alphatia, who isolated the infectious agent that created vampires, when experimenting with their blood. He didn’t quite know what he had, but he did work out that no matter how much filtering and separation he carried out, there was always something therein that would, if applied to another dying individual, create a new vampire. In our terms, he ruled out every other form of living thing that could cause illness and was left with an extract containing what we know to be the virus Orthohepadhavirus sanguinum. He couldn’t manipulate it directly, but he could work various magics upon it to see what happened. I hope you’ll understand if I don’t tell you precisely what he did with this material, because I do think that some of the most dangerous forms of knowledge should be earned through your own hard work. But the result of his work was quite magnificent.

Lycan managed to break the metaphysical link that the vampirism virus had to limbo. The result was remarkable—free of this, what started out as a slow-growing virus that required the victim actually be killed such that it could fully express symptoms, became a far more voracious pathogen. In his experiments, Lycan managed to infect not only the creatures we recognise as lycanthropes now but dozens of other species. He had in effect created not only a new kind of creature, but also had an adaptable means of creating new forms on the fly. Lycan was a genius, the very archetype of a mad wizard in his tower playing with forces he couldn’t possibly control. Bravo, that man. More of that please!

Sadly, (in a way that’s reminiscent of what happened with both Thaneg1 and Gargantua) rivalries with other wizards vying to be the greatest of the era eventually did for poor old Lycan. Which is a shame; it would have been fascinating to see what he might have achieved if he had ever joined the ranks of the immortals. Perhaps I should go to one of the outer planes of my knowledge and oversee that work recommencing...

Anyway, the reason for animosity between vampires and lycanthropes is all based on what Lycan created. The lycanthropy-inflicting forms of the virus can infect vampires very easily, just as easily as they may infect any mortal. And that virus is, short of the use of a wish, deadly to vampires. In fact there are no known examples of vampires recovering from this. The lycanthropic virus overwhelms the original form of the virus and vampires cannot survive this: they are unable to feed once severance of their link to Limbo is challenged. Whereas if a vampire bests a lycanthrope and kills it, a creature of such unimaginable evil is created that it is shunned even by most followers of entropy. The vrykolakas, as such abominations are known, are rare and reviled by all.”

Vrykolakas*

Rat Wolf Boar
AC: 3(2) 1(2) 0(2)
HD: 6**** 7**** 7+1****
Movement: 120'(40') 180'(60') 150'(50')
Attacks: 1 1 1
Damage: 2d4+ED 2d8+ED 2d10+ED
No. Appearing: 1 1 1
Save As: F12 F14 F16
Morale: 11 11 11
Treasure Type: F F F
Intelligence: 12 12 12
Alignment: Chaotic Chaotic Chaotic
XP Value: 975 2,050 2,450

Tiger Bear Bat
AC: -1(2) -2(2) 0(2)
HD: 8**** 9**** 6+3****
Movement: 150'(50') 120'(40') 60'(20')
Flying: 180'(60')
Attacks: 2/1 2/1 1
Damage: 2d6/2d6 2d8/2d8 2d4+ED
3d6+ED 3d8+ED
No. Appearing: 1 1 1
Save As: F16 F18 F14
Morale: 11 11 11
Treasure Type: F F F
Intelligence: 11 11 11
Alignment: Chaotic Chaotic Chaotic
XP Value: 2,850 3,700 1,550

Fox Shark Seal
AC: 2(2) 0(2) 1(2)
HD: 6+2**** 7**** 8+2****
Movement: 180'(60') 60'(20')
Swimming: 180'(60') 180'(60')
Attacks: 1 1 1
Damage: 2d6+ED 4d6+ED 4d6+ED
Number Appearing: 1 1 1
Save As: F15 F14 F17
Morale: 11 11 11
Treasure Type: F F F
Intelligence: 11 11 11
Alignment: Chaotic Chaotic Chaotic
XP Value: 1,550 2,050 3,275

Devil Swine
AC: -1(2)
HD: 12****
Movement: 180'(60')
Attacks: 1
Damage: 2d12+ED
No. Appearing: 1
Save As: F24
Morale: 11
Treasure Type: F
Intelligence: 11
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 4,750

Vrykolakas are rare and universally shunned lycanthropes infected with vampirism. Indeed, they are so hated both by lycanthropes and vampires, and the possibility of their creation so reviled, that the mere chance of making one is sufficient to create near legendary enmity between lycanthropes and vampires.

They crave the flesh of intelligent prey above all things, relishing the internal organs, especially the livers and hearts, of such creatures—the enjoyment of these blood-rich organs being a reminder of their vampiric heritage. Creatures killed by vrykolakas do not return as undead, nor do those who are damaged by them contract lycanthropy, but their presence and touch is poison to all of those around them. Anyone consuming food or drink within 120' of a vrykolakas, including a potion, must make a saving throw vs. poison or die in 2d6 turns.

To create a vrykolakas a vampire must slay a lycanthrope by energy drain. The victim will rise from the dead up to a month after slain, on the first night of the next full moon, as a free-willed undead with no allegiance to its slayer. It retains the knowledge and shape-changing abilities of its were-form, and can also, at will, transform into a gaseous form. In animal form it is more potent than a typical lycanthrope, and in addition to causing more physical damage each blow also inflicts a single level of energy drain.

A vrykolakas also retains all knowledge and abilities (except for divine abilities such as druidic or clerical spellcasting) in their human form. They become as resistant as vampires, having an armour class of 2, and can, again, strike a foe for a single level of energy drain with their fist or with a weapon.

In either animal or human form, vrykolakas may use a charm gaze attack to affect a single target, once per round. They are immune to sleep, charm, hold, all mind-affecting magic, magical cold, and they cannot be polymorphed. In either human or animal form they may only be struck by magical weapons, and they are turned by clerics as if vampires. Once damaged, vrykolakas regenerate at a tremendous rate, at 5 hp per round, and like vampires when reduced to 0 hp they revert to gaseous form and return to their lairs. They do not require coffins but must have a haven refuge that is shielded from sunlight (which causes them 3 hp damage per round of exposure, damage that cannot be regenerated until the next full moon). Typically, they retain several such havens, often in caves, ruins or in the case of sharks and seals among reefs and shipwrecks. They are repulsed neither by garlic nor wolfsbane but cannot approach an openly presented holy symbol or enter any hallowed ground, nor can they enter an intelligent creature’s home uninvited. Vrykolakas can be killed by driving a wooden stake through their heart or by decapitation

They cannot summon animals of their own type as a lycanthrope or of other types as if vampires, being shunned by all other living creatures. They can however exploit their unnatural status by howling up to once every 6 rounds. All creatures hearing this howl within 120' must make a saving throw vs. spells or flee in fear for 1d6 turns.

Dhampir

From the Journal of Averyx

“Perhaps the least expected of the strange vampire offshoots of Mystara is the dhampir. In that this is simply a person infected with the vampiric virus but who is still alive.

Now, you’d be right to be confused, since I’ve been telling you all about strange creatures that have caught vampirism as a metaphysical virus, and that the act of a vampire draining the life from someone creates conditions for the virus to thrive and resurrect the person, cut off from Limbo so that their soul cannot pass, leaving them to live what is typically a lonely existence neither alive nor dead. But herein lies the paradox of the creation of the dhampir. You see, vampires are not strictly dead, nor are they strictly alive. They have a soul but no living body. But they do have a body. And that has... consequences.

Whether it is with someone a vampire loved in life, or a new person obsessed with finding a lover in true darkness, it matters not. But it is such coupling that creates the dhampir—a human infected from birth with the vampiric virus. I shall not provide details of this, I’m sure your imagination will do well enough. And if you do not, the penny horror stories that soon make the bum-fodder of some societies are replete with Lady and the Vamp tales.

This condition has a number of effects. Firstly, the progeny casts no shadow—they feel the warmth of the sun and see its light, but the sun itself does not see them. Secondly, they are enormously perceptive if confronted with supernatural entities, and can typically detect such before other mortals. Lastly, should the dhampir have children, they can pass this trait on—but only to the first born of their own sex (a man to his son, a woman to her daughter). Once the virus is passed on, any further children are not infected. Why? Well, that will be the subject of further study. Wouldn’t life be dull if we knew everything?”

Dhampir

AC: 9
HD: 2*
Movement: 120' (40')
Attacks: 1 weapon
Damage: By weapon
Number Appearing: 1 (1)
Save As: F1
Morale: 9
Treasure Type: P (U)
Intelligence: 12
Alignment: Any
XP Value: 24

Dhampir result from the union of a vampire and a human, usually (although not always) a male vampire and a female human. There are examples of the women meeting with their husbands for a final night after they have been turned into vampires, and others of men and women who have sought out vampires for such a reason.

Dhampir are almost indistinguishable from humans, identifiable only by lacking a shadow. They are a little more robust than most humans, saving as first level fighters and having two hit dice. Many live relatively ordinary lives, but a few take up adventuring professions where they may excel. An adventuring dhampir requires 5% more experience points per level gained.

They can use any weapon or armour allowed to their class and possess few abilities that normal humans do not. They can, however, sense supernatural creatures within 60' of them. They have a 5% chance per level of experience of detecting hidden or unseen creatures that require silver or magic weapons to be struck. They also have a 10% chance per level (to a maximum of 90%) of knowing if an invisible, charmed, gaseous or shape-changed/polymorphed creature is within 10' of them.

Dhampir are not ordinarily predisposed to be sympathetic to the undead; in fact, many become hunters thereof, seeking redemption for their line or revenge against the parent that abandoned them, using their innate skills to infiltrate organisations supportive of the undead.

While being able to mix freely with humans, dhampir may also breed true, but each generation only produces a single true dhampir. A male dhampir’s first son will also become a dhampir, and a female will beget a new female dhampir as her first born daughter. Whole lineages of dhampir have been known to devote themselves to ridding the world of undead, especially vampires.


Jiangshi

From the journal of Averyx

“One of the strangest and most enduring lineages of vampires is the jiangshi. It first arose in Ochalea, shortly after the Alphatian landfall, and it can be traced to a specific infection event. And despite the spectacular result this is otherwise the most fascinatingly mundane thing that has happened in the whole history of vampirism.

A young lady, a farmer’s daughter and laundress by the name of Ying Ying, was suffering the early effects of a perfectly ordinary viral disease that would have led to a lingering and painful paralysis. She was washing laundry in the river close to her village, sharing tales of boys and future ambitions with her friends, but they were, as the young frequently are, tardy in finishing their work before sunset. A particular vampire had been stalking the village for weeks and seized this as his chance to prey upon them. By pure chance the vampiric virus copied picked up just a little of that other virus creating something new and terrifying. Ying Ying is, as a result, still around, and she’s one of the oldest extant undead creatures on Mystara.

The jiangshi are all descended from her. They are rather like vampires in that they prey on the living, but the particularities of their lineage, carrying so much of another virus that leads to paralysis, mean that they’re incredibly stiff, getting around this with a bizarre hopping motion to move at speed. The paralysis they suffer also leads to a strange colouration, a bluish or greenish tinge, and their skin seems to tighten and draw back from their hands and faces, creating prominent fangs and claws. They are in every way monstrous in appearance, and perhaps this is why they form such affinity with lowlife creatures such as slimes and carrion crawlers, which they may coerce to do their bidding.

The jiangshi have colonised Ochalea, some parts of the Isle of Dawn, and in recent years have moved through the Thyatian Empire in the Hinterlands and across the northern coast of Davania, as well as across the Pearl and Alatian Islands and into the otherwise quiet farmlands of Bellissaria. So far none have been found in mainland Thyatis or the Known World region, but I should think it only a matter of time before some of Ying Ying’s blood find their way to those lands.”

Jiangshi*

AC: 2
HD: 9**
Move: 180' (60')
Attacks: 1 touch or special
Damage: 1d10 + double energy drain or special
Number Appearing: 1d8 (1d8)
Save As: F9
Morale: 11
Treasure Type: F
Intelligence: 8
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 2,300

Jiangshi are a form of vampire. They typically inhabit ruins, and maintain sites with hidden coffins to rest. They are, like all undead, immune to sleep, charm and hold spells, as well as other mind-affecting magic. When damaged, they regenerate 3 hp per round, unless reduced to 0 hp, in which case they must return to a coffin to regenerate until the next sunset. They are typically thin, with somewhat stretched, pale skin, pointed teeth, long finger-nails and white hair. There is frequently a greenish pallor to their skin, as if of a thin layer of mould growing there. Their typical movements are stiff, and to maintain balance they usually walk with their arms outstretched. But they are capable of quite remarkable speed when necessary—this they achieve by hopping, both feet at once, their feet reaching around 4' from the ground, a form of locomotion they are capable of maintaining for as long as is necessary.

Upon first seeing a jiangshi all characters must make a saving throw vs. fear or run in terror for 3d6 rounds. In combat, a jiangshi strikes once per round with its clawed hands, for 1d10 damage plus two levels of energy drain. A jiangshi may also assume gaseous form, this taking a single round, and travel at 360' per round as such. Jiangshi may summon any of the following creatures if within 500', and they will, if they can, respond and obey to the best of their ability

Creature

Number

Creature

Number

Ghouls

1d6

Rust Monsters

1d4

Black Pudding

1

Dropper Beetles

4d10

Carrion Crawlers

1d4

Robber Flies

1d6



Jiangshi may be turned by clerics as vampires, however they do not have the same response to holy symbols, which they typically ignore. They do, however, fear and revile their own reflections, being monstrous parodies of who they once were, and will avoid mirrors if presented visibly. Staking does not kill a jiangshi, unless with a peach-wood stake, but they may be killed if their coffins are found and the bodies decapitated or burned.

Unusually for energy draining creatures, victims killed by jiangshi do not rise again as the same undead, they merely remain dead. However any surviving victim damaged by a jiangshi will, if not magically cured, slowly transform into a jiangshi over the course of 1 month.

Other Creatures Mentioned

Most of the creatures that can be summoned by the various creatures here are detailed in either the Rules Cyclopedia or the Monstrous Compendium, but a few others mentioned here are detailed below.

Dropper Beetle

AC: 5
HD: ½
Move: 60' (20')
Attacks: 1 bite
Damage: 1d2
Number Appearing: 1d100 (2d100)
Save as: NM
Morale: 2 and 12
Treasure Type: U
Intelligence: 0
Alignment: Neutral
XP Value: 5

This 1'-long beetle is rarely of any concern individually. It is flattish, brown, shaped rather like a dinner plate, with a tiny thorax and small mouth. While alone this causes little concern, but they are rarely found alone. They gather in vast numbers, and together they patiently await prey.

They typically like to sit on the underside of cavern ceilings or under the branches of mighty trees in ancient woodlands. When they sense movement underneath them, they drop on to it and attack (surprising on a roll of 1-3 on 1d6). Individual droppers will flee if damaged, but this has no impact on the behaviour of the group, who will ignore fleeing damaged beetles and continue an attack on any live prey until it is dead.

While potentially dangerous in groups, they are slow and can be evaded by most cave-dwelling species. They will not approach within 5' of an open flame, and they can be fooled into attacking foes they have no chance of defeating (such as gelatinous cubes). Many humanoids hunt them for food, and they are particularly esteemed by kobolds.

Jaculus

AC: 5
HD: 1*
Move: 120' (40') or special
Attacks: 1 bite
Damage: 2d10
Number Appearing: 1d4 (1d8)
Save As: F1
Morale: 2
Treasure Type: U
Intelligence: 1
Alignment: Neutral
XP Value: 11

Jaculus are small (up to 24"), green, arboreal snakes with narrow, retractable sails on either side of the front half of their body. They leap on targets from tree branches, by means of coiled, spring-like tails suddenly straightening, propelling them forward with their sails gliding them to their targets in a single devastating attack. In this first attack, unless their victims are already alert to the possibility of jaculus being present, they surprise their targets on a roll of 1–4 on 1d6.

Their initial devastating attack is their sole means of taking prey. They will attack almost any target, anything up to the size of a human, and if they fail to kill that target they will immediately try to retreat and climb back into a tree to escape.

Valravn*

AC: 5
HD: 3*
Movement (flying) 180' (60')
Attacks: 2 claws + 1 bite
Damage: 1d2/1d2/1d4
Number Appearing: 1d6 (8d6)
Save As: F3
Morale: 9
Treasure Type C
Intelligence: 6
Alignment: Chaotic
XP Value: 50

Valravn are ravens that have feasted upon the flesh and gorged upon the energies of warriors fallen in battle. Through this they have gained both potency and intelligence, and are significantly larger, more aggressive, and hazardous than normal ravens. They crave the flesh of the race they have previously devoured, so if they became valravn following a battle between humans and dwarves then that is the flesh they crave, and they choose the weakest prey they can—the very young, and the elderly and infirm.

Their origin gives them a certain amount of protection from normal weapons—they can only be hit by silver or magical weapons. The process of becoming a valravn also imparts them with some of the sorrow of those who have fallen. Their cry sounds like that of other ravens, but has undertones of the wails and screams of fallen warriors. All within 40' hearing the cries of a treachery (the collective noun for a group of valravn) of 6 or more must make a saving throw vs. paralysis or fall to the ground as if felled warriors for 1d6 rounds.

Like all ravens they tend to collect shiny, valuable objects, which are taken back to their lairs, typically on rock faces or in the heights of mighty trees.

1 For more on Thaneg, see Origin of the Isle of Dread by the author on the Vaults of Pandius http://pandius.com/orgdread.html.