Vampire dragon - Complete Lore Guide

Vampiric dragons are among the most fearsome and rare undead creatures to haunt the worlds of Dungeons & Dragons, particularly within the lore-rich Forgotten Realms setting. These terrifying entities blend the raw, destructive power of a dragon with the insatiable hunger and insidious abilities of a vampire, creating a truly nightmarish foe. They are not merely dragons afflicted by a curse; they are transformed beings, often embracing their undeath for enhanced power or as a twisted form of immortality.

On a personal note, these monsters take the vampire, a form of undead I have absolutely no love for whatsoever, and combine them with Dragons, which is just an absolute nightmare situation, would you like to know more? Well settle back, grab yourself a tasty beverage, its time to get deeply nerdy.

The transformation into a vampiric dragon is a grim process, typically occurring when an existing vampiric dragon drains a living dragon completely of its life essence. Adult or older dragons slain in this manner may rise as new vampiric dragons, often subservient to their creator. Younger dragons, or those slain by the vampiric dragon's energy drain attack rather than blood drain, might instead reanimate as mindless zombie dragons, further adding to the creator's unholy legions.

In some rare instances, particularly noted in settings like Eberron, potent confluences of negative energy or obscure, powerful rituals can also lead to the spontaneous creation of a vampiric dragon without a direct progenitor. Some dragons might even willingly seek out this transformation, driven by a profound fear of death or an insatiable lust for greater power, choosing vampirism over other forms of undeath like lichdom.

Vampiric dragons largely retain their original draconic form, but their appearance is corrupted by their undead state. They often appear as paler, more gaunt versions of their living selves, with necrotized, graying wings and skin that might seem sickly or diseased. Their eyes typically glow with a feral, blood-red light, and their fangs become even more pronounced and predatory. A key characteristic shared with humanoid vampires is their lack of a shadow and absence of reflections in mirrors.

Inherently evil, often chaotic evil in alignment, vampiric dragons are driven by a desire for death, destruction, and the sating of their unholy thirst. They are cunning hunters, known to spread false rumors about their treasure hoards to lure unsuspecting adventurers into their lairs. Their greed persists in undeath, with their hoard often serving as a more potent anchor than a vampire's coffin, however, dragons are magical creatures and quite capable of creating magic items (most are solely for the use of dragons of course, so this is not as widely known as an aspect of their nature as the items usually blend into their draconic form or serve to enhance it like fine jewelry), for example, well I will talk about that later.

The transformation grants many additional undead powers to the dragon, while they retain their formidable natural weapons, their immense strength, flight, natural immunities and resistances to elemental damage and magic, many also keep their draconic breath weapon, but some don't.

What they gain is their ability to drain blood and vital energy from victims, transform them into fanatically loyal Vampire Spawn or even transforming other dragons into vampires. They gain a transformed dragon fear in the form of a domination gaze attack, crushing a victim's willpower and compelling them to serve it or just leaving them cowering in fear in a puddle of their own urine, and to make it worse, this is most effective against draconic creatures, sorry dragon blood warlock, turns out there is a BIG drawback to being tainted with dragon essence from birth, how unfortunate.

They gain the ability to transform into mist, slipping in or out of seemingly secure locations with ease, hard to detect, and perfect for infiltration and also as a means to escape its potential destruction, and hey, dragons probably have spells that allow them to drain energy in mist form as well, very similar to a terrible monster with those same qualities I encountered up near the Icewind Dale... or was it Ten towns? Oh, no, it was just after that wedding in citadel adbar when I got snowed in by a blizzard, closing the mountain pass I was half way through. But, that's another tale for later.

The vampiric dragon also has eyesight and other senses that surpass their mortal kin, superior darkvision yes, but also reflected in abilities that give them quite an advantage when it comes to initiative checks, reflex actions and just generally moving faster than anything their size really has a right to move, plus, of course, they cast no reflection in mirrored surfaces.

Vampiric dragons are often compared to another powerful form of draconic undead: the dracolich. While both are formidable, they possess distinct advantages and disadvantages, influencing why a dragon might choose one form of undeath over the other. The choice between becoming a vampiric dragon or a dracolich often hinges on tactical advantages, such as the vampiric dragon's superior ability to create and control powerful minions directly, including the power to turn other dragons into vampire spawn or zombies, while the Dracolich doesn't typically create other Dracoliches, they do usually command other powerful undead through its innate necromantic power.

As a vampire, the dragon has vulnerability to all the traditional vampire kryptonites, direct exposure to sunlight can be endured only for a limited time, the power of blessed symbols and holy water, a large wooden stake through the heart and, for the Dragon, they are bound to their treasure hoard just as a humanoid vampire is bound to their coffin, or more precisely, the dirt they were buried in, usually contained in a protective coffin or other secure chamber where they must return in the hours of the day, for all intents and purposes appearing very much dead, rather than merely sleeping.

The other weakness of the Vampire dragon is their need to feed on blood, or more precisely, the life force of living victims, easily absorbed from the blood, which obviously has no other sustaining purpose in a creature that is dead, with no metabolic requirements for organic nourishment, but the compulsion to crave blood is extremely strong in these apex predators, more so than humanoids who don't normally feed on other living creatures in the first place. This vital energy can be attained by a variety of other means to the highly intelligent and magically adept dragon, and I give you full license to come up with all manner of abominable methods the vampire uses to do so. For example, while there is no lore to support it, I see no reason a dragon couldn't simply touch a healing potion and turn it into some pretty, but useless liquid, drained of its vital power. Wards and runes of power are certainly commonly used by Dragons, and there are those the vampire could install in it's lair that will continually funnel vital energy from any living intruders who fail to resist their effects, weakening them and sustaining the vampire dragon even as they attempt to destroy it.

Vampiric dragons also have to contend with the requirement to be invited into private dwellings, and take note of the specific words used, a private dwelling, so using transformation magic, a vampire dragon has no issue inviting itself to a public town hall for a gathering, like a formal celebration or some such. There is nothing stopping a Vampire dragon from simply destroying the private dwelling however, so its power over them is more a matter of detecting them, than really protecting yourself from them. The good news is that, any larger structure that contains private dwellings, such as a castle or underground dwarven complexe are also covered by that protection. Its a fairly simple matter for a Vampire dragon to infiltrate such locations with their non-vampiric minions, who have the power to invite them inside. In an emergency, fleeing into a private dwelling the dragon has not infiltrated and can't simply destroy can mean the difference between life and death.

A few weaknesses the vampire dragon doesn't have compared to humanoid vampires is that running water, garlic or mirrors are no deterant to it at all, though nobody seems to know exactly why that is.

 Vampiric dragons are exceedingly rare in the Forgotten Realms and other D&D settings. Their existence is often the stuff of terrifying legends, and an encounter with one is a significant event. They serve as excellent "Big Bad Evil Guys" or BBEGs for high-level campaigns, manipulating networks of lesser vampires and cultists, amassing power from the shadows, or directly terrorizing regions. Their ability to turn other dragons into undead thralls makes them a unique threat to draconic society itself, often viewed as anathema even by evil dragons. I have a just a couple of known examples from the lore, they are Jaxanaedegor and Capnolithyl

Jaxanaedegor was an ancient green vampiric dragon who lived on Mount Thulbane in Threskel, a region ruled by dragons for over 134 years now, in many ways a source of some inspiration for the Dragon Princes of Murghom, not too far away as the drake flies.  Jaxanaedegor was described as having scales of alternating light and dark green and yellow eyes. He was so big that he even towered over blue dragons. The self styled Viceroy of Threskel, Jaxanaedegor served the powerful dracolich Alasklerbanbastos along with other vassal dragons installed as local lords by the Dracolich and at least on one occasion, sent with them to devastate the independant city state of Mourktar, which later became the capital city of all Threskel. Eventually the vampire dragon switched sides and betrayed his dracolich overlord in one of the more pivotal battles between the nation of Threskel and that of the bordering nation of Chessenta. Later, Jaxanaedegor became deeply involved in another Vampire Dragons schemes and served as a taaldarax to him in a game of Xorvintaal taking place among the dragon princes or Murghom mainly.

Capnolithyl is kin to true dragons, he is a vampiric Smoke Drake and is more commonly known as Brimstone.

To the unsuspecting eye, Capnolithyl often presented himself as a normal, albeit imposing, adult smoke drake. This form featured scales of a reddish-black hue, a common characteristic of his kind. However, this appearance was a meticulously maintained illusion, designed to conceal his true, far more sinister nature. Beneath the facade lay the horrifying reality of an undead vampire. In his true form, Capnolithyl exhibited the ghastly traits of vampirism: a pale, gaunt draconic frame, eyes that burned with a blood-red intensity, and an overall feral cast to his features. As a vampire, he cast no shadow and possessed no reflection.

One of Capnolithyl's most iconic abilities was his power to transform at will. His favored alternate form was a swirling cloud of embers and smoke, granting him exceptional mobility, stealth, and the ability to infiltrate or escape seemingly secure locations. He could also adopt the form of a Tiny bat, further enhancing his versatility in movement and evasion, though he could not speak in this state.

As a vampiric creature, Capnolithyl was immune to a host of effects that would cripple or destroy living beings. These immunities included mind-affecting spells and abilities, poison, sleep effects, paralysis, stunning, disease, and death effects. He was also resistant to any effect requiring a constitution save unless it also worked on objects. Capnolithyl also possessed a  powerful magical collar, described as a diamond choker. This artifact allowed him to roam far from his lair and treasure for extended periods, a freedom denied to most of his vampiric kin. This collar was unfortunately destroyed during his climactic confrontation with Sammaster. However, a small fragment of it reputedly remained, which Capnolithyl kept safely within his own body, perhaps retaining some echo of its power or as a memento of his past.

I've noted over the years that dragons do tend to do this with magic items fairly often, embedding them into their body as a form of magical augmentation beyond the capacity of most non-draconic beings.

Capnolithyl was was a skilled sorcerer, with lore suggesting he attained the equivalent of a 10th-level Sorcerer in D&D 3.5 Edition terms, complementing his already formidable advanced smoke drake durability, he was a brute with a brilliant mind. Capnolithyl fancied himself a scrier, proficient in spells that allowed him to magically view and contact individuals across great distances. His known repertoire also included a spell to shoot fire darts and a charm to enhance his own speed, making him a versatile magical combatant.

Capnolithyl's dark genesis lies with Sammaster, the infamous mage who founded the Cult of the Dragon and pioneered the creation of dracoliches. While researching the path to dracolichdom, Sammaster experimented with various forms of undeath on draconic subjects. Capnolithyl, then a smoke drake, was one such subject. He reportedly allowed Sammaster to transform him into a vampire, perhaps hoping to gain favor, power, and prestige in the new world order Sammaster prophesied. However, Sammaster eventually deemed vampiric dragons less useful than dracoliches and effectively discarded Capnolithyl. This betrayal ignited a deep-seated desire for vengeance in the vampiric drake, becoming a primary motivation for decades.

Despite his malevolent nature, Capnolithyl played an unexpectedly heroic role during the turbulent period known as the Rage of Dragons. In 1373 DR, learning of the green dragon Karasendrieth's quest to understand and halt the draconic fury, Capnolithyl offered his assistance. He traveled with Karasendrieth, the human ranger Dorn Graybrook, and their companions. While pursuing his own agenda of undermining Sammaster, Capnolithyl's actions proved crucial. He was instrumental in reversing the Vaasan Horde, a force stirred up by Sammaster to sow chaos, and notably saved the life of Gareth Dragonsbane, the King of Damara. His contributions were vital in the eventual discovery of Sammaster's secrets and the destruction of the magical mythal that fueled the Rage of Dragons. For these acts, many dragons across Faerûn hailed him as a hero, though some believed he perished in the final confrontation.

Following Sammaster's destruction, Capnolithyl experienced a period of emptiness. He lingered in Sammaster's former citadel, searching for a new purpose. His search led him to discover information about an ancient and dangerous draconic custom known as the xorvintaal—a complex game of power, influence, and intrigue played by mighty dragons. Fascinated, he delved deeper, even traveling across the Outer Planes to master its intricacies.

In 1479 DR, Capnolithyl returned to Toril, specifically to the island of Dracowyr, to initiate his own grand xorvintaal. He contacted numerous powerful chromatic, gem, and metallic dragons, subtly binding them to participate in the game using a potent, hidden spell. His machinations drew the attention of figures like the dracolich Alasklerbanbastos and the formidable red dragon Tchazzar. When the Brotherhood of the Griffon attempted to thwart his game, Capnolithyl allowed Alasklerbanbastos to rally dragon allies to attack them. However, after the Battle of Luthcheq, leaders of the Brotherhood, along with dragonborn knights from Tymanther, confronted Capnolithyl at Dracowyr. They compelled him to break the magical bonds tying the dragons to his xorvintaal. Before disappearing to an unknown fate and location, Capnolithyl chillingly claimed that the entire game had been a sophisticated ruse designed to eliminate the most powerful dragons around the Sea of Fallen Stars.

Capnolithyl is primarily a figure from Dungeons & Dragons 3.5 Edition lore, featured prominently in "The Year of Rogue Dragons" novel trilogy by Richard Lee Byers and later in the "Brotherhood of the Griffon" series. In game terms (3.5e), he was a formidable entity, an Advanced 36 HD Smoke Drake with 10 levels of Sorcerer, boasting a Challenge Rating (CR) of 33. This placed him among the more powerful, unique adversaries one might encounter.

While this video is primarily for dungeon masters or just those interested in fantasy lore, I have a heart and in the description of this video is a link to an article specifically for players seeking tactical training on how to effectively combat vampiric dragons. I hope it saves a few lives, after all, I don't want to encounter any more undead adventurers if I can possibly avoid it, so a bit of prevention is better than a cure, such as a highly expensive ressurection spell.

And with that, my name is AJ Pickett, your lore host with the most, this coming month I have a lot more videos covering the very politically complex and highly concerning lands to the far east of Faerun and what I consider to be the impending draconic apocalypse, if that interests you, please, subscribe to the channel and learn all there is to know, as always, thanks for listening and I will be back with more for you, very soon.

Player's Tactical Guide to Defeating Vampire Dragons.

https://ithy.com/article/defeating-vampiric-dragons-dnd-q1zreqkjed

Complete Guide to Mutant Dragons - Dragon Week - Forgotten Realms Lore

If metallic dragons are paragons of genetic consistency, breeding true to their kind, and chromatic dragons can produce wildly unpredictable, potentially mutated offspring when mating outside their specific color... why don't we see more bizarre dragon hybrids cluttering up the fantasy landscapes? The answer lies in a combination of draconic biology, behavior, and the practicalities of survival in a hostile world.

Strap in folks and grab yourself a tasty beverage, its Dragon Week and its time to get Deeply Nerdy.

Understanding why these "weird dragon mutants" are uncommon requires looking at both sides of the draconic family tree and the fundamental rules governing their reproduction.

Metallic Dragons: The Standard of Purity

Metallic dragons (Gold, Silver, Bronze, Brass, Copper) are generally depicted as lawful or good-aligned creatures. Their societies often involve cooperation, and they tend towards stable family structures (by dragon standards). Lore consistently portrays them as breeding true – a Gold dragon mating with another Gold dragon produces Gold dragon offspring that share the core traits and appearances of their parents. This reflects their nature as beings of order and inherent goodness, often linked to the platinum dragon god Bahamut. Their offspring are predictable, upholding the legacy of their kind.

Chromatic Dragons: Potential for Chaos?

Chromatic dragons (Red, Blue, Green, Black, White), aligned with Tiamat and embodying evil, greed, and chaos, operate differently. While they typically mate within their own color to produce similar offspring, lore from various editions, particularly sources like the 2nd Edition Draconomicon, confirms that interbreeding *between* different chromatic types is possible. The premise is that these pairings can result in highly variable and unpredictable offspring – the "chaotic mutant hybrids" your question refers to. These might display mixed traits, strange abilities, or appearances unlike either parent. However, this potential doesn't translate into large populations of mutants.

Why Aren't Mutant Dragons Everywhere?

Several powerful factors converge to keep the population of chromatic dragon hybrids extremely low, making them rare oddities rather than a common feature of D&D worlds.

The Sterility Barrier: Nature's Checkpoint

This is arguably the most crucial reason. While chromatic dragons *can* interbreed across colors, the lore consistently states that the offspring of such unions are, in the vast majority of cases, infertile. Like mules (the offspring of a horse and a donkey), these dragon hybrids cannot reproduce. Without the ability to propagate, each mutant hybrid represents a genetic dead end. They cannot establish breeding populations or pass on their unique (or chaotic) traits, ensuring their numbers remain minimal and scattered.

Rare Romances: The Unlikelihood of Cross-Color Mating

Dragons, especially chromatics, are notoriously solitary, fiercely territorial, and deeply distrustful creatures. They view other dragons primarily as rivals for territory, hoard, and power. Finding a mate is often a difficult and dangerous affair even within the same color. Cross-color pairings face even greater hurdles: differing environmental preferences (mountains vs. swamps vs. forests), inherent animosity, and clashing personalities make such unions statistically improbable. Mating between metallic and chromatic dragons is considered exceptionally rare due to their fundamentally opposed alignments and natures.

Survival of the Fittest (or Fiercest): Parental Hurdles

Parental Instincts (or Lack Thereof)

Chromatic dragons are not typically nurturing parents. Their approaches range from neglect to outright hostility. Black dragons might abandon eggs or young, while Red dragons might see weak offspring as rivals or even food. Blue dragons are sometimes noted as slightly more involved parents, but the general trend is harsh.

Culling the 'Imperfect'

An offspring that appears significantly different, malformed, or weak ("mutant") is unlikely to garner favor. A pragmatic, evil chromatic parent might see such a hybrid as a flawed specimen, a drain on resources, or a sign of weakness. Such offspring face a high probability of being destroyed, abandoned in hostile territory, or simply left to perish through neglect, severely limiting the number of mutants that survive infancy.

Genetic Instability and Short Lifespans

Even if a hybrid survives hatching and parental indifference, the genetic mismatch can lead to inherent problems. Lore suggests some hybrids might be physiologically unstable, malformed, short-lived, or suffer from mental imbalances due to their mixed heritage. These inherent defects further reduce their chances of reaching adulthood or having any significant impact on the world.

Known Hybrids: Exceptions That Prove the Rule

While widespread populations of naturally occurring chromatic mutants are absent, D&D lore does feature specific examples of dragon hybrids. However, these often reinforce the idea of rarity and frequently involve external factors beyond simple chromatic crossbreeding:

Dracimera

Mentioned in settings like the Forgotten Realms, the Dracimera is the offspring of a chromatic dragon (often specified) and a chimera. Its existence is usually tied to specific events or groups, like the Cult of the Dragon, suggesting unnatural origins or magical manipulation rather than natural inter-species romance.

Wyvern Drake

Another Forgotten Realms example, the Wyvern Drake is described as a hybrid of a wyvern and a chromatic dragon. These are often presented as monstrosities engineered by powerful magic-users (like the wizard Sammaster) rather than products of natural breeding.

Half-Dragons

Half-dragons are the result of a union between a dragon and a non-dragon creature (like a humanoid). While this involves hybridization, it's a different category than chromatic-chromatic crossbreeding. Often, this involves dragons capable of shape-changing (like metallics or specific other types), though the possibility for polymorphed chromatics is sometimes debated. These hybrids have their own distinct place in the lore, separate from the idea of chaotic mutants from pure dragon pairings.

Other frequently asked questions

Can *any* two different chromatic dragons potentially breed?

Yes, according to lore sources like the 2nd Edition Draconomicon, interbreeding between different types of chromatic dragons (e.g., a Red dragon and a Blue dragon) is possible. However, as discussed, it's considered rare due to behavioral factors, and the offspring are overwhelmingly likely to be infertile and potentially possess a mix of traits or entirely unpredictable characteristics.

What about Metallic and Chromatic dragon breeding?

This is considered exceedingly rare in D&D lore due to the fundamental opposition in alignment and nature between the two types. If such a union were to occur, the results are described as highly unpredictable and almost certainly infertile. Some sources might term such offspring "abominations." The chances of such a pairing happening naturally, let alone producing viable offspring, are virtually negligible.

Are Gem Dragons different in their breeding habits?

Gem dragons (Amethyst, Crystal, Emerald, Sapphire, Topaz) represent a third category, often associated with psionic power and neutrality. While detailed breeding lore might vary by edition and source (like Fizban's Treasury of Dragons), they are generally treated as distinct types that breed true within their own kind, much like metallics. The chaotic hybridization potential is primarily associated with chromatics.

Could a Dungeon Master introduce more dragon mutants?

Absolutely! While the official lore explains their rarity, D&D is ultimately flexible. A DM could create unique hybrid dragon encounters, perhaps as the result of magical experiments, ancient curses, planar anomalies, or specific chromatic pairings that defied the odds (even if the offspring remains infertile). These mutants could serve as unique monsters, tragic figures, or plot hooks, leveraging the established lore about variability while carving out a special place in their campaign world.

BREAK

The Divine Conflict

The eternal struggle between the draconic deities Tiamat, the Queen of Evil Dragons, and Bahamut, the Platinum Dragon of Justice, is a cornerstone of Dungeons & Dragons lore. While their conflict resonates across the planes, it manifests most intensely and consequentially on the world of Toril, the primary setting of the Forgotten Realms. But why Toril? It wasn't a single, conscious decision by the deities to designate this specific planet as their ultimate battleground. Rather, Toril became the focal point through a confluence of ancient history, divine politics, the presence of their draconic kin, and the very nature of the world itself within the cosmic structure.

Forged in Primordial Conflict

The rivalry between Tiamat and Bahamut is fundamental, representing the clash between draconic evil (greed, tyranny) and good (justice, nobility). Many creation myths surround their origins, often involving the primordial dragon deity Io, also known as Asgorath. One prominent legend suggests Io was tragically split into Tiamat and Bahamut during the cataclysmic Dawn War, a universe-spanning conflict between the gods and the primordials.

Abeir-Toril: A Crucible of War

The original twin world, Abeir-Toril, was a major theatre for the Dawn War. Actions attributed to Asgorath during this era, like creating the Sea of Fallen Stars via the Tearfall event, deeply scarred the world. If Tiamat and Bahamut truly emerged from Io during this conflict *on or connected to* Abeir-Toril, their nascent struggle would be inherently tied to this specific sphere of reality from their very beginning.

Ao's Intervention: Separating Worlds

Following the immense destruction of the Dawn War, the Overgod Ao intervened, splitting the world into Abeir (largely abandoned to the primordials) and Toril (assigned to the gods). This act effectively designated Toril as the primary stage for divine activities and conflicts pertinent to this world. As deities operating within this cosmic structure, Tiamat and Bahamut's interactions concerning Toril and its inhabitants fell under Ao's purview, solidifying Toril as their defined arena.

The Dragonfall War: Setting the Stage on Toril

The First Great Draconic Conflict

Long before recorded human history on Toril, around -30,000 DR (Dalereckoning) during the "Time of Dragons," the conflict between the followers of Bahamut (then known as Xymor) and Tiamat erupted into open warfare across the planet. This conflict, known as the Dragonfall War, is considered a pivotal part of the Draco Holy Wars.

The Spark and the Escalation

The war reportedly began when followers of Xymor slew Nagamat, one of Tiamat's high-ranking chromatic dragon generals. Tiamat’s response was characteristically brutal: she began creating horrific draconic aberrations, known as the Spawn of Tiamat, to unleash upon her foes. In response, Bahamut countered by creating his own devoted followers, the first dragonborn warriors known as the Ux Bahamuti. This entire devastating conflict, involving the creation of new draconic beings and widespread battles, played out across the landscapes of Toril, cementing it as the primary battleground in the minds and histories of dragonkind.

From Open War to Cold War: Xorvintaal

While the most intense, world-shattering battles eventually subsided – potentially to prevent mutual annihilation – the underlying conflict never ceased. It evolved into a complex game of intrigue, assassination, and manipulation among dragons known as *xorvintaal*. However, this "Great Game" was merely a continuation of the war by other means, with Toril remaining the board upon which it was played, punctuated by periodic flare-ups of open hostility.

Entangled in Mortal Pantheons

Tiamat and Bahamut didn't always hold sway over Toril's mortal inhabitants as they do now. Their influence grew significantly when they became entangled with mortal pantheons, particularly the ancient Untheric pantheon (inspired by Mesopotamian mythology).

The Untheric Conflict

Tiamat became a prominent, malevolent figure within the Untheric pantheon. Bahamut, observing her growing influence and tyranny, later joined the same pantheon under the alias Marduk, *specifically* to counteract her schemes and protect mortals from her depredations on Toril. This divine power struggle culminated dramatically in the Battle of the Gods in Unther around -1071 DR, where both Marduk (Bahamut) and Tiamat were seemingly slain in a cataclysmic confrontation. Though gods rarely stay dead permanently in the Forgotten Realms, this event firmly rooted their opposition within Toril's historical and mythological narrative.

Faerûnian Presence

Following the decline of Unther, both deities maintained their presence. Tiamat is considered one of the few survivors of the Untheric pantheon and holds a place among the deities of the Faerûnian pantheon. Bahamut is also recognized, often seen as a lesser deity or sometimes serving the greater god of justice, Torm. This continued integration into the divine structures governing Toril ensures their conflict remains relevant to the world's fate.

Where Dragons Roam and Followers Gather

Perhaps the most straightforward reason for the conflict centering on Toril is the sheer concentration of their power bases there. Toril is unique in its vast populations of both chromatic dragons (Tiamat's children) and metallic dragons (Bahamut's allies).

Concentration of Followers

Both deities derive power and influence directly from their worshipers and kin. Chromatic dragons, metallic dragons, various factions of dragonborn, and numerous mortal cults dedicated to either Tiamat's avarice or Bahamut's justice are spread across Toril's continents, especially Faerûn. This dense network of followers makes Toril the logical place to recruit agents, wage proxy wars, hoard resources, and exert influence over mortal affairs.

Symbolic and Practical Significance

Toril holds deep symbolic weight in draconic lore, often tied to the primordial essence of Io/Asgorath. Victory or defeat on Toril carries greater meaning than it might elsewhere. Furthermore, Toril houses vast repositories of dragonlore, ancient draconic strongholds, powerful magic items related to dragons, and numerous sites of power (temples, lairs, magical foci) that amplify their respective influences. Conducting their primary struggle elsewhere would disconnect them from these vital resources and the bulk of their followers.

Proxy Warfare and Divine Restraint

Cosmic rules or divine etiquette often discourage gods from engaging in direct, world-shattering combat. Instead, they wage war through avatars, champions, and mortal followers. By establishing their primary bases of mortal power on Toril, Tiamat and Bahamut can perpetuate their conflict through these proxies without necessarily violating constraints on direct divine intervention. Toril, teeming with potential agents and high stakes, becomes the perfect stage for these indirect confrontations, as seen in events like the Tyranny of Dragons campaign focused on Tiamat's attempt to manifest physically on Toril.

For a deeper dive into the complex relationship, history, and motivations of these two iconic D&D figures, check out these videos on my channel.

My name is AJ Pickett, your Lore Master for all things tabletop roleplaying and particularly D&D and the Forgotten Realms setting, thanks for listening, like, share, subscribe and support if you are able, and as always, I will be back with more for you, very soon.

Saurial - forgotten realms - complete lore guide - AJ Pickett

Scaley Kind is the title of a great number of reptilian species in the realms, dating back to the first so-called creator race, the Sarruhk some thirty thousand years ago, however, the species we are here to talk about today is not a member of Scaley Kind and has no links to any of the creator races, or the gods of Faerun for that matter, because they came from another world. Today we are going to learn all there is to know about the Dinosaur-like Saurials.

While largely keeping to themselves, a few Saurials have gained recognition in the wider world.

Dragonbait is Perhaps the most famous Saurial, Dragonbait is a Finhead Paladin known for his quiet courage and unwavering loyalty. He gained prominence through his adventures alongside the warrior Alias, chronicled in the Finder's Stone Trilogy. His travels and heroism have served as an inspiration for younger Saurials in the Lost Vale, encouraging them to look beyond their isolation. He has appeared in official Dungeons & Dragons materials, including the 5th Edition adventure Tomb of Annihilation and then there is Grypht, a Hornhead, Grypht serves as the respected leader of the Saurial community residing in the Lost Vale. He provides guidance and stability for his people as they continue to recover and maintain their sanctuary.

Much of the initial lore and the introduction of Saurials to the wider D&D audience came through the novel series, The Finder's Stone Trilogy, by Kate Novak and Jeff Grubb. This series introduced the character Dragonbait and provided narrative context for the Saurials' plight, their connection to Moander, and their hidden refuge in the Lost Vale. I came to know Dragonbait via a videogame set in the Tomb of Annihilation adventure setting in the Jungles and ruins of Chult, but outside of the initial novels, they first appeared in the Dungeons and Dragons roleplaying canon in the Monstrous Compendium Forgotten Realms Appendix - MC11 for 2nd edition advanced dungeons and dragons, they also appear in the complete book of humanoids, where we saw the first playable stats for the species, the book of lairs volume one and two, Polyhedron Magazine within the living jungle campaign articles and there are some dedicated fans of that location I can assure you, then Serpent Kingdoms and then Races of Faerun and finally, the Tomb of Annihilation adventure, but to save you hunting down all those documents, I've gathered all the lore for you, so, settle back, grab yourself a tasty beverage, Derrick, Jessica and Macen this one is for you, and a reminder to you all, I frequently research and produce these videos prompted by requests from viewers, the best way to do this is join my discord server, you don't have to be a financial supporter of the channel, but I'm not going to lie and say that is not going to influence who's requests get priority, lets get real here, I'm a working sage after all. Please remember to like the video, make a comment below, share it on any social media and if you enjoy my content on a regular basis, subscribe to the channel. For those of you with a spare coin or two a month, consider supporting me on Fourthwall or Patreon for exclusive bonus content also, or perhaps just a one off purchase of a Deeply Nerdy Mug, or T-shirt, and with that said, on with the lore!

Saurials are a distinct and rare lineage of intelligent, bipedal humanoids classified as "sauroids" or scalykind, bearing a striking resemblance to the dinosaurs of ages past. Crucially, they are not native inhabitants of Toril, the world that hosts the Forgotten Realms setting. Their origins lie on an unknown crystal sphere, a distant world separated from Faerûn and Kara-Tur by the vastness of Wildspace or the Astral Sea.

The Saurials' presence on Toril is a consequence of tragedy and coercion. The vast majority were forcibly abducted from their homeworld by the malevolent deity Moander, the Darkbringer, god of rot, corruption, and decay. Moander enslaved the Saurials, intending to use them as instruments of destruction, paving the way for his own foul rebirth upon Toril. Many Saurial heroes and defenders fell battling Moander even before reaching this new world.

Following Moander's eventual defeat and death, an event tied to the actions of heroes like Finder Wyvernspur, Alias, and the Saurial paladin Dragonbait, the surviving Saurials faced a difficult choice. Rather than attempting a perilous and uncertain journey back to their lost home, they elected to remain on Toril. Encouraged by figures such as the Sage Elminster, they committed to staying, partly to help heal the lands scarred during their enslavement. They settled primarily in a hidden refuge, beginning a long process of physical and spiritual recovery.

Saurials are undeniably dinosaur-like in appearance. They possess tough, scaled hides, often adorned with naturally vibrant stripes or spots, which they sometimes enhance with decorative body paint. This paint serves not only aesthetic purposes but also subtly modifies their scent cues for communication. They have sharp claws on their hands and feet, and balancing tails. Unlike many reptilian creatures found on Toril, Saurials are not cold-blooded.

Communication among Saurials is a complex affair, far removed from the spoken tongues of humans, elves, or dwarves. Their native language consists of a combination of high-pitched whistles, clicks, and chirps—many of which fall outside the range of human hearing—intertwined with distinct pheromonal scents that convey emotional states and complex meanings. For instance, a specific lilac fragrance signifies a deep longing for their lost homeworld. This unique linguistic structure makes direct communication with non-Saurials nearly impossible without magical assistance (like a tongues spell) or specialized empathy, though some limited understanding can sometimes be achieved with dragons due to distant commonalities with the Draconic language. To bridge this gap, some Saurial communities, like the Lacerials of Malatra, have developed specialized sign languages for interacting silently during hunts or communicating with neighbouring tribes.

Saurial society is characterized by strong communal bonds and a generally peaceful, pragmatic outlook, though tinged with the melancholy of their history.

While numerous subraces are believed to exist on their original homeworld, only four distinct types of Saurials are known to have established populations on Toril. These names were given to them by inhabitants of the Realms, as their own Saurial designations remain largely unpronounceable to outsiders.

Bladebacks

Named for the prominent plates, ridges, or spines running along their backs, Bladebacks are often larger and more physically imposing than other subraces. They are less numerous in established settlements, likely due to the greater food resources required to sustain their size.

Finheads

Distinguished by a prominent crest or fin adorning their heads, Finheads are often described as excitable and eager when faced with new challenges or experiences. This inherent curiosity and tendency to charge headfirst into situations makes them the subrace most likely to become adventurers encountered outside their hidden communities. The famed Saurial hero, Dragonbait, is a Finhead.

Flyers

Possessing membranous wings or wing-like forelimb extensions resembling those of pterosaurs, Flyers are capable of limited flight or gliding. They tend to be smaller and more agile than Bladebacks or Hornheads and constitute a significant portion of the Saurial population in the Lost Vale.

Hornheads

Characterized by bony horns or horn-like clusters on their heads, Hornheads are typically robust and sturdy. Like Bladebacks, they are present in smaller numbers within the known communities compared to Finheads and Flyers, possibly due to resource limitations. The leader of the Lost Vale community, Grypht, is a Hornhead.

These four subraces coexist peacefully within their settlements, viewing each other as part of a single, unified people despite their physical differences. Most Saurials tend towards a Neutral Good alignment. They often possess a straightforward, almost black-and-white view of morality, valuing honesty, community welfare, and fulfilling one's duties. Their experiences under Moander have left them wary but not inherently hostile towards outsiders. 

Saurials form strong communal ties, living and working together for the benefit of the tribe. All subraces are treated as equals within a settlement. They are known to mate for life, forming deep and lasting pair bonds. Typically, a mated pair lays one or two eggs annually. Both parents share the responsibilities of guarding the eggs during incubation and raising the hatchlings. Young Saurials reach physical maturity relatively quickly, within about five years, but achieving mental and emotional maturity takes considerably longer, typically an additional ten to fifteen years, mirroring human development timelines.

Within their settlements, most Saurials lead lives as farmers, hunters, weavers, carpenters, masons, blacksmiths, and even musicians. They focus on self-sufficiency and maintaining their community. The trauma of their abduction and enslavement still weighs heavily on them, fostering a degree of isolationism and a cautious approach to the wider world. However, inspired by the tales of adventurers like Dragonbait, younger generations are showing increasing curiosity about the world beyond their hidden valleys.

While specific details are scarce, Saurial spirituality seems tied to elemental forces and potentially draconic entities, possibly stemming from a shared ancient ancestry. Druidic practices are known to flourish in the sheltered environment of the Lost Vale. The Lacerials, in particular, suffer from a sense of spiritual abandonment by their original gods.

The Lost Vale (Tarkhaldale)

The main population of Saurials in Faerûn resides within the Lost Vale, a hidden, lush, and primordial valley nestled within the Desertsmouth Mountains, east of the Anauroch desert and near the Dalelands. This sanctuary is home to over one hundred adult Saurials from all four known subraces, though Finheads and Flyers are more numerous than the larger Bladebacks and Hornheads, likely due to the valley's finite resources. The community is led by a Hornhead named Grypht.

Life in the Vale is focused on subsistence – farming, hunting, and crafting. Initially, very few Saurials ventured beyond its borders, preoccupied with recovery. The Vale itself has faced peril; it was threatened by the return of the Netherese city of Shade and was subsequently displaced into a liminal space between worlds during the Sundering. This displacement occurred following a sacrifice by the heroine Alias, involving an ancient artifact meant to protect the Vale, locking it partially out of time for roughly a century. It sometimes manifests as a hazy, shimmering mirage to weary travelers in the Anauroch.

The Lacerials of the Malatran Plateau

Far to the south, in the jungles of Kara-Tur, lies the Malatran Plateau, home to a second group known locally as Lacerials. Physically, they appear identical to the Saurials of the Lost Vale, encompassing the same four subraces (Bladebacks, Finheads, Flyers, Hornheads). They too claim to have been abducted from another world, arriving on Toril due to a magical mishap rather than direct enslavement by Moander, though their origin world is presumed to be the same.

It's suggested the name "Lacerial" might have been used initially due to naming restrictions within the RPGA's Living Jungle campaign, but lore confirms their Saurial heritage. They originally settled in the Valley of Spirits, a place considered taboo by local human tribes, but were forced to flee following an unknown catastrophe around 1997 DR (Dale Reckoning). Evidence suggests this event may be linked to an internal conflict, symbolized by factions bearing tattoos of either a white heart or a black flame.

They established a new, hidden village named Lilac deep within the jungle, named for the distinctive scent emitted by homesick individuals. Though known to their neighbours on the plateau, Lacerials generally avoid prolonged contact with outsiders, still grappling with the spiritual trauma of their displacement and perceived abandonment. They utilize a unique sign language for specific interactions and are known to trade for local goods like Koshiva date wine.

My name is AJ Pickett, as always, thanks for listening and I will be back with more for you, very soon.

In the Bleak Deepwinter - Dragon Magazine Tales - Short Story - Audiobook

Complete Guide to Poltergeists - For Roleplaying Games

There are many who wonder why I spend most of the warmer months of the year living in one of the towers of Candlekeep, even though I have a rather impressive lair of my own, located off the coast near Mintarn island, the Highhand spire is strictly off limits and contains artifacts and knowledge forbidden and incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands. I like to catch up with friends of mine from across the Realms in a location known by one and all for many decades, so, you could say, I have an office at Candlekeep, and also, that is where a thriving colony of Pseudodragons live and I have been studying their social dynamics for quite some time, so, I miss them when I am away. Another reason is that Candlekeep is a lot more interesting and dangerous than many people know, particularly the lower levels and the catacombs where the most dangerous books are locked away, often rattling at the chains that keep them secured to the shelves. Wizards who animate spellbooks to float or flutter around them or come to them when called, I really wish they wouldn't do that, or it was not such a fashionable trend in places like Halruaa, because the enchantment invariably goes a bit rogue and those heavy spellbooks pack quite a bite.

It was a couple of years ago when a large number of powerful spellbooks got loose and we had a devil of a time rounding them up, thanks to the culprit responsible for their escape in the first place.

Today, I thought I would collect my notes and relate all I know about the Poltergeist,  so grab yourself a tasty beverage, and settle back, it's time to get deeply nerdy.

The term "poltergeist" derives from the German words "poltern" (to make noise) and "geist" (spirit), literally translating to "noisy ghost." As early as 94 A.D., historians like Flavius Josephus noted exorcisms involving unusual phenomena that could be attributed to such disruptive forces. The classic description of a poltergeist involves the manifestation of a spirit capable of producing loud noises, physical disturbances such as moving or levitating objects, and even interacting physically through pinches and slaps.

In German folklore, poltergeists have been primarily associated with mischief rather than outright malice. They are often seen as agents of chaos, causing unexplained noises, flickering lights, and objects being displaced. Some traditional narratives even link poltergeist activity to communal and familial crises, with disturbances sometimes correlated with the presence of emotionally charged individuals, particularly troubled adolescents and primarily young women by most accounts.

The standard investigative practice would be to take any young people away from an area reporting such activity, if there are no further incidents while the youngsters are elsewhere, then it's a pretty easy solution to the problem.

Written accounts of poltergeists may go back to the late sixth century, there is definitely one from 856AD in Bingen, Germany, in latin it refers to stones coming from no visible source, falling from nowhere, furniture moving, and loud noises, and there are well-known accounts from the Drummer of Tedworth in 1681 to the Bell Witch of 1817, all of which share very similar descriptions of observed events. Across the globe, in Japan, entities like the Ikiryō are believed to be manifestations of a living individual’s disturbed spirit and you could say the mythologies from Mesopotamian to Egyptian empires have elements of object-centric hauntings or vengeful ancestral spirits that share characteristics with the modern poltergeist.

But of course, we are here to discuss fantasy roleplaying. In that regard the Poltergeist arrived in the pages of the original Fiend Folio published in 1981, clearly drawing on traditional folklore it is usually a location-locked haunting undead spirit, naturally invisible and intangible, it can still be harmed by silver or enchanted weapons, and spraying holy water around the area or confidently brandishing your holy symbol will drive it back, but doesn't harm it.

The poltergeist, as described, is a being who died in that specific location and is most potent when within that area, but it can roam around, just in a weaker state. It attacks by hurling an object no heavier than a normal person could easily throw. When the object strikes a living being, they must deal with a sudden and irrational, supernatural fear effect. If they fail to resist it, they sprint off in a random direction and have a good chance of dropping what they are carrying somewhere along the way. Once they recover from the effect, they don't need to worry about it again, so it's a one-trick pony as far as actual combat is concerned. Or is it?

Now, this is where I put all sorts of evil ideas into your head, so grab yourself a tasty beverage. Its time to get deeply nerdy.

An important part of poltergeist folklore, which we see in many movies, is that adolescents and their strong emotions tend to feed the poltergeist, which becomes like a magnet for other spirit entities and sometimes something worse. So here are some ideas on how this aspect can really enhance what is otherwise a bit of a simplistic undead spirit.

Picture this: your adventuring party steps into a shadowed ruin, a dungeon carved into the earth, or a forgotten keep swallowed by time. The air feels wrong—heavy, restless—and then it starts. A candlestick flies from a corner, a brick tumbles from a wall, and a disembodied cackle echoes through the stones. You’ve stumbled into the domain of a poltergeist, a spirit of spite and chaos, ready to turn your exploration into a nightmare. Let’s explore how these encounters unfold, first as a standalone terror, then as a storm unleashed by a troubled teen’s emotional energy.

Imagine a crypt, its air thick with dust and the faint stink of decay. Coffins lie cracked open, bones scattered like forgotten toys. The poltergeist is here, a flickering malice born from some long-dead soul’s rage. It starts small—picking up a femur and hurling it at the fighter’s head, forcing a quick dodge. A rusted candelabra sails from a shadowed niche, clattering against the wall as the cleric ducks. The spirit’s invisible, intangible, slipping into a stone sarcophagus when the rogue draws a silver dagger. You can’t hit it while it’s hiding, but you hear its giggle echoing from within.  

The real fight kicks off in its death zone—a darkened alcove where a shattered skull rests, the spot where it met its end. Here, it’s stronger, angrier. It slams the sarcophagus lid shut, trapping the barbarian’s arm unless they wrench it free with raw strength. Turning it with a cleric’s prayer feels like shouting into a storm—its resistance is fierce. But wave a holy symbol, and it recoils, forced out into the wider crypt. There, it’s weaker, tossing pebbles and broken pottery, a petulant child losing its temper. A well-aimed strike with an enchanted blade or a silver arrow can end it—if you can pin it down.  

Now, add a teen girl to this crypt, a runaway hiding among the tombs, her eyes wide with anxiety from a life of running. The poltergeist latches onto her fear like a leech, and the encounter explodes. That femur? It’s replaced by a jagged tombstone slab, crashing down with bone-shattering force. Illusions flicker to life—spectral hands clawing from graves, forcing the wizard to steel their mind or flee in terror. Her distress pulses through the spirit, drawing a ghoul from a side tunnel, its claws scraping stone as it hungers for her warmth. Calm her with gentle words, and the poltergeist’s power fades—back to small bones and weak shoves. But startle her, and the crypt erupts: coffins burst open, a whirlwind of bones and dust fills the air, and you’re scrambling to shield yourself from the chaos.

Shift the scene to a bandit-ravaged tower, its walls pocked with arrow scars, its upper floors sagging under rot. The poltergeist here is a remnant of some cutthroat’s last stand, and it’s got a knack for improvisation. A splintered plank flies from a broken stair, aimed at the paladin’s legs. A dented helmet spins through the air, clanging off the ranger’s shield. The spirit ducks into a crumbling fireplace or a wall crack, popping out to lob a smoldering torch—duck, or you’re singed. Its death zone is a bloodstained lookout post at the tower’s peak. There, it grabs a loose beam and swings it like a club, daring you to stand your ground. Clerics find their turning prayers falter against its defiance, but a holy symbol drives it down to the lower floors, where it weakly flings shingles and curses.  

Silver or enchanted steel can finish it, but it’s slippery—always one step ahead, cackling as it retreats. Then comes the escalation: a teen girl, cast out for her wild temper, squats in the tower’s shadows. Her rage fuels the poltergeist, turning that plank into a barrage of knives and bricks, a deadly storm raining down. Her shouted curses echo through the stones, a deafening roar that leaves your ears ringing. Her turmoil ripples outward, summoning a possessing spirit that slips into the rogue’s mind, forcing a struggle for control. Soothe her, and the poltergeist’s fury dims—back to tossing sticks. Enrage her, and the tower itself rebels: stones tumble from the ceiling, the walls groan, and you’re dodging debris just to stay alive.

Now picture a village lost to fire and time, its huts charred husks, its well choked with ash. The poltergeist here is a vengeful echo of some villager’s demise, and it’s got the whole place as its playground. A cracked pot sails from a doorway, a broken chair crashes against the fighter’s armor, and a rusted scythe spins toward the bard—dodge or bleed. It slips into a burned beam or dives down the well, emerging to strike from behind. Its death zone is a collapsed barn, where it hurls a pitchfork with lethal intent and shrugs off holy rebukes. Push it out with a symbol, and it skulks to the village edge, weakly tossing twigs or slamming shutters in a tantrum.  

A silver blade or enchanted arrow can banish it, but it’s relentless—always circling back for one more shot. Then imagine a teen girl, a survivor of the village’s fall, wandering the ruins with grief in her eyes. The poltergeist feeds on her sorrow, and the air grows heavy. That pot becomes a cartwheel, smashing through the party with crushing force. Illusions of burning homes and fleeing figures flicker around you, clawing at your resolve. Her pain calls to roaming ghosts, their wails blocking your path as they echo her memories. Comfort her, and the spirit weakens—its throws falter, its illusions fade. Startle her, and a spectral villager rises, lashing out with cold hands before dissolving into the night.

Dive into a dungeon half-submerged, water lapping at your boots, moss slick on the walls. The poltergeist here is tied to some drowned prisoner’s wrath, and it’s got a cruel streak. Slimy rocks splash from a cell, a rusted key arcs toward the cleric’s head. It hides in a flooded statue or the dripping ceiling, splashing water to mask its next move. Its death zone is a sunken shrine—a corroded chalice marks its anchor. There, it hurls a loose altar stone, daring you to wade closer, and resists turning with stubborn fury. Holy symbols force it into the wider dungeon, where it flickers weakly, flicking algae or small fish.  

Strike it with silver or magic, and it’s done—but it’s a slippery bastard, always retreating to regroup. Now add a teen girl, trapped by a cave-in, her suppressed anger simmering beneath the surface. The poltergeist drinks it in, and the dungeon turns hostile. That rock becomes a cell door, torn free and flung with brutal force. Illusions of rising water or drowning screams fill your mind, testing your nerve. Her fury summons a wraith from the depths, its hollow eyes locked on her life force. Ease her tension, and the spirit’s power ebbs—back to petty splashes. Push her too far, and the dungeon floods: water surges, sweeping you into walls unless you brace yourself fast.

Finally, step into a keep abandoned by its lords, its hall strewn with looted relics—goblets, tapestries, a dented shield. The poltergeist, a jilted servant’s shade, rules this ruin. It hurls a goblet at the wizard, flings a tapestry to entangle the rogue. It slips into a cracked throne or a wall sconce, striking from above with a shield’s edge. Its death zone is the throne room, where it grabs a table leg and swings hard, defying clerics’ prayers. Drive it out with a holy symbol, and it weakens—tossing dust or candle stubs in a sulky fit.  

Silver or enchantment can end it, but it’s a persistent pest, always lurking for one last jab. Then comes the teen girl, left behind by fleeing nobles, her despair a banquet for the spirit. It hurls a marble bust now, smashing with devastating weight. Illusions of mocking courtiers or her own weeping reflection taunt you, binding your will. Her anguish cracks the floor, summoning ghouls from the crypt below. Calm her, and the poltergeist falters—its throws lighten, its tricks fade. Enrage her, and the keep trembles: walls split, furniture spins in a deadly dance, and you’re fighting just to stand.

Without the teen, the poltergeist is a cunning, chaotic foe—mobile, spiteful, and tied to its surroundings. It uses the environment as a weapon, ducks silver and enchanted blows, and dares you to storm its death zone or chase it down. Add the teen, and it’s a force of nature—her emotions turn it into a telekinetic storm, weaving illusions and calling undead to the fray. The party’s not just fighting a ghost anymore; they’re wrestling with her pain, balancing combat with compassion—or facing the consequences of pushing her over the edge.  

OK, I think you get the general idea, and with that, my name is AJ Pickett, thanks for joining me and as always, I will be back with more for you, very soon.

Giant Velvet Worm - Monster Ecology - Fantasy Roleplay

From the journal of Nesia Belan, Avowed of Candlekeep, 1345 of the Dale Reckoning, his last entry.

"I write this by the flickering light of a guttering torch, deep within the fungal caverns of the Underdark on the outskirts of old dwarven tunnels far below the surface city of Velen, on the larger peninsula forming the extensive coast of the land of Tethyr. The air reeks of damp rot and iron-rich slime. My guide, a deep gnome named Krix, insisted we turn back. ‘The Silent Ones are hunting,’ he whispered, his voice trembling. I pressed onward for but a moment, and that was when I saw it—a sinuous shadow rippling across the ceiling, twenty feet of velveteen flesh glowing faintly blue. Its dozens of legs moved in perfect silence. Twin jets of slime arced suddenly through the dark. Krix screamed. The last thing I saw of him was his body, cocooned in shimmering mucus his gray face, eyes wide, struggling for air and life, as the creature’s hooked mandibles unfolded like a grotesque flower and it methodically slurped him up from the floor and to his doom. Without a guide and the way back now flooded, I have no choice but to press on; I know not where to go or how I will ever see the sun again, but I have faith that the dwarves carved these ancient passages for a reason, and they must lead somewhere." 

I have a fair idea of where Nesia was at that time, and he was likely headed beneath Firedrake Bay and a region of dangerous volcanism, toxic gases, rivers of lava, dense and exotic fungus jungles, right into the territory of the Giant Velvet Worms and things much worse. I have seen a specimen of one of these monsters in a laboratory in Halruaa, taken from the lethal jungles of the southwest that make it nearly impossible to reach Chult by land, the one Nesia describes was probably a smaller male, or a species I have not seen before, or, I've never been in a situation where I could observe any glowing blue effect, so perhaps it was just some of the strange energy known to flow through the deep lands. I'm no stranger to trekking through tropical jungles, they are very hot and very wet and seem determined to consume you bit by bit, every day, every night, the cacophony of life on all sides screams out, as hunters become the hunted, and life sustains itself, as always, on a constant diet of death.

Today, we shall learn all there is to know about the Giant Velvet Worm, so grab yourself a tasty beverage, it's time to get deeply nerdy.

While I have seen a version of this monster for the Pathfinder Roleplaying game, it's not one you would have seen before, the velvet worm is a real creature, found in many places around the world, they favor dank and dark environments, actively roaming around, hunting for spiders and other prey, they are an incredibly ancient species, closely related to worms and the first primitive insects, they look like a cross between a worm and a caterpillar with a soft and lumpy looking skin and two very mobile and sensitive antenna that feel around contracting and extending as they feel around themselves constantly.

Velvet worms are not particularly intelligent creatures, but they are relentless and efficient predators; however, they are pretty primitive and they rely mainly on the senses of motion and smell to navigate and often identify prey by extending their antenna feelers and gently touching a creature, before they unleash a jet of thick slime to snare it, usually sort of gluing they prey to the spot and simply closing in to wrap around it and eat it while it's still alive.

In some areas of Faerûn, these creatures may have developed particular relationships with the land. In the Underdark, where the environment is dark, damp, and full of life, velvet worms have evolved to hunt more sophisticated prey—like the various spiders, giant centipedes, or even small subterranean mammals that dwell in the deep. Their presence could be a sign of the quality of the underground ecosystem and might influence the growth of fungi or mosses that feed on the remains of their prey.

In the jungles of Chult, for instance, a hazardous species of velvet worm could coexist with the many other deadly creatures in the region. These creatures might even be seen as challenging local civilizations or adventurers who attempt to navigate the jungle’s labyrinthine paths. Local tribes or factions may have rituals or protections to prevent encounters with these deadly predators, or they may have even domesticated the worms in a certain way, using them for their purposes.

But I'm getting ahead of myself; let's take a closer look at the biology before we delve further into their ecology.

With their long, segmented body covered in velvety hair-like structures, they come in a variety of colors, with some having lighter patterns just behind their head, easily distinguished by the long prehensile feelers sprouting from it, right at the base of those are two tiny eyes its easy to miss, and the mouth is usually just a simple gap, not very interesting when it's not in the process of feeding. Their body is typically 6 to 12 feet long, but they will eventually reach up to 24 feet in length and a few feet wide; they are heavier than they look with a very fluid and flexible internal structure, as they don't have any sort of skeleton, even at just 14 feet long they weigh around 900 pounds and their 15-20 stubby, non-jointed legs end in chitinous, hook-like claws, so they are quite capable of grappling and pinning a humanoid, even if they move relatively slowly compared to something like a giant centipede. The first stubby pair of projections beneath the feelers are the nozzles that spray out a large quantity of their infamous sticky slime, and the stuff is not just very sticky, capable of immobilizing a humanoid, it also has digestive enzymes in it that can burn and even, over time, dissolve stone, corrode metal and break down pretty much any organic material. Internally, they are very primitive organisms, on Earth they have existed since the first creatures crawled out of the oceans and in fantasy worlds, they have remained and thrived in isolated spots, like the thick jungles of Maztika and the fungus forests of the Underdark, the great and dangerous southern jungles of Faerun and even the heart of the most ancient forests have their own unique subspecies with a slightly better sense of vision than their underground cousins, who can really only distinguish between light and dark, not any details. 

On other worlds, they exist wherever the feywild, arborea, or other lush dimensions cross over into the mortal plane, and some have been deliberately introduced to control populations of giant spiders, as the Velvet Worms' hydrophobic skin is also quite resistant to getting snared by sticky spiderweb and their primitive internal chemistry, segmented circulatory system with hearts pumping as long as they keep their stubby legs moving is very robust and can withstand most forms of venom. Most spiders will flee their webs and lairs, leaving the Velvet worms free to consume their nutrient-rich egg sacks.

The reproduction of Velvet worms is interesting, they produce eggs but gestate them internally for a long time, at least 7 months and give birth to live, fully formed young that are already several feet long and stay with the parent for a while, riding around on them. While normally solitary predators, constantly on the prowl for prey, they are also known to congregate as groups dominated by a larger female, this may be a sort of harem or pack, but its not really fully understood why they do it, other than there being less competition in a stable and lush environment, like a fungal forest rich in vermin life that allows them to hunt and feed together, combining forces for mutual defence when required. As they don't eat fungus, they are sometimes raised and kept by Myconids, who treat them like pack beasts and protectors, but, as with many other races, the fungus folk also make use of them for many alchemical recipes. Its in this protected sort of situation where you can find the oldest and largest of their kind, with some living for several decades and growing up to 30 feet in length, massing several tons.

The body of the Giant Velvet Worm is a treasure trove for alchemists, artificers, and mystics alike. Each part of the creature offers unique properties that, when harvested correctly, can be transformed into potent reagents or magical items. 

The quick-hardening glue secreted from its oral papillae is prized as an ingredient in crafting waterproof adhesives, trap mechanisms, and even magical binding agents. Master alchemists have been known to incorporate this slime into potions of entanglement, enhancing their capacity to immobilize foes, such as enhanced versions of the Tanglefoot Bag.

The luxurious yet durable skin, when tanned with enchanted reagents, produces a material known as "velvethide." This is used in the crafting of armor and pouches that provide natural resistance to moisture and minor magical effects. It's also highly prized by Drow elves and Illithids for the tailored, flowing robes and coats they sometimes wear, which keep them free of mud, strands of web and so forth, its also quite plush, and not too thick, as its very warm deep underground and heavier leathers can be uncomfortable and prone to deterioration due to all the fungus and rot down there.

The potent enzymes injected during feeding are capable of liquefying even the toughest tissues. When isolated, they form the basis of acid-based components used in creating corrosive potions or in disintegrating barriers in alchemical experiments.

The chemical compounds present in the creature’s antennae are used to synthesize tinctures that enhance sensory perception temporarily, effectively granting the drinker tremorsense for brief periods, but overuse can result in damage to the nervous system, ironically causing tremors in the hands and facial ticks from nerve damage.

The chitinous material from its jaw elements and the claws on the ends of the legs can be fashioned into all sorts of things by the clever artisans of both deep caverns and dense jungles, the various species of amphibian folk prize such items as they never corrode in moisture and can be polished and carved like scrimshaw.

In certain regions of the Underdark and Feywild, it has been observed that bioluminescent fungi colonize the dorsal ridges of these worms, the glowing patterns provide camouflage and entice prey without causing any harm to the worms.

Specialized mites and beetles often scuttle around after the worms, feeding on stale and hardened slime and the few scraps the worms leave behind. Some of them are quite edible and are considered a delicacy by Underdark races; one type of tick has a numbing bite that can be refined into a more potent narcotic and topical analgesic paste that remains potent for months.

In various cultures—from druidic circles in Faerûn to isolated tribal island societies off the coast of Kara-tur—the Giant Velvet Worm is both revered and feared. Druids sometimes protect and transport them in order to preserve unique subspecies and also, like the Underdark cultures, use them to keep populations of giant spiders in check.

As an apex predator, the Giant Velvet Worm frequently encounters both adversaries and unwitting allies in the wild. While larger entities such as dragons or wyverns might occasionally pose a threat, the worm’s adhesive defenses (especially when groups congregate) allow it to stand its ground even against formidable attackers. It helps that draconic beings also find their taste quite revolting.

If you can manage to hunt and capture a specimen alive and transport it all the way to the markets of Athkatla, Calimport or Waterdeep, you can expect to earn quite a stack of gold for your troubles, particularly if you sell one to the worshippers of Malar and, their alchemical products are always a welcome addition to any exotic goods merchants wares.

My name is AJ Pickett, thanks for listening and as always, I will be back with more for you, very soon.

Ecology of the Electrum Dragon - Fantasy Lore - Forgotten Realms

It was a bright and blustery morning at the start of winter in the realms, I was well overdue to leave my tower and retreat to the Highhand spire near Mintarn island, which didn't get completely coated with ice from the gales a frigid temperature freezing the very sea froth against the ancient stone of Candlekeep. My pseudodragon friend Makrotaxel was getting a little fiesty with me, as far as he was concerned, I was overstaying in his lair, my chambers were sealed off but he had his access via a chimney into my study room and kept the rats and other vermin from devouring all my books and keepsakes while I was away, he also, occasionally, had a nest, some youngsters and I lost some treasured leather bound tomes to little dragon teeth and claws as the hatchlings got a little more mobile before leaving the lair at the start of summer. This was how I got to be friends with Makrotaxel after all, a few decades ago.

Dragons were the order of business on that morning though, I was outside the keep, crouched out of the wind behind a boulder, watching two rams smacking their curled horns together in the long, tough grass as the little wild herd of sheep watched on. They didn't stir until the last minute, then suddenly they caught sight of whom I was waiting for and scattered in terror, sprinting everywhere before gathering and charging off down the coast toward the still rising sun.

My friend Olidmardramo, who many call Feather, roared at them and this sound transformed very strangely into a braying donkey sound, and then into the hearty bellowing laugh of a portly Sembian merchant, I stood up immediately to catch a look at her true form, but alas, I missed it and the look on my face must have spoken volumes as Feather spread his hands and shook his head.

"Oooh sorry old Rune, I know you like to see me in the nude, but I don't want your little hermits firing a spell off at me, or one of those nasty big ship crossbows... yes yes, I know what they are called, don't correct me".

I gave the merchant a hug and stepped back and offered a respectful bow "How are you Olidmardramo, hows the kids?"

The humanoid form she was wearing snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Oh who knows? I haven't spoken to any but Ormeremymarin in the last ten years and that was a letter from the far east"

"Kara-tur? Really? I didn't think that place was very hospitable to dragons?"

"Oh you thought that did you? Well, something I can educate you on for a change, old sage, come on, lets go inside, you are starting to make me feel cold with your bare feet"

"hmmm? Oh, yes, sorry, I put a pot of that broth you like on"

"With the rock crabs? and the onions? oooo yes yes, after you".

A few minutes later and I was walking through the perimeter gardens toward the rear wall and towers, and the dragon huffed in distaste beside me.

"Don't they ever decorate around here? A few statues, a fountain or two, some decorative tiles, even shape some of these shrubs into topiary forms more pleasing to the eye"

"Well, those are rare medicinal and alchemical plants Feather, we don't just hack them into shapes to make them look nice, they have better uses"

"There is no better use for a plant Sage"

"As you say, but I think botanists might not agree"

"mmm then I will eat them"

"No you won't"

"I could you know"

"Think of the mess"

"Quite right, it would be dreadful"

When we did get to my chambers, Makrotaxel, along with all the Pseudodragons along the western sea wall, had vanished.

"Make yourself at home dear Feather"

The merchant looked around, eyes fixing on one item after another all lining my shelves and resting against furnishings and wall space. He let out a low whistle as he peered closely at a little chunk of meat with a dry old eyeball in it.

"What is this?"

"Part of a domesticated Beholder from Deep Imaskar"

He turned and stared at me for several moments.

"Where?"

I shook my head "Much too dangerous a location to reveal, sorry Feather, I barely escaped and lost a few years of my life just doing that"

"That's the first time you have ever denied me the answer to a question sage, so I will take that warning quite seriously"

"Good, anyway, you said you had to see me... what about?"

"Murghom, the dragon princes"

"Ahhhh, good, I've been wanting to hear more, all I have heard is rumors this far west of the sea of Seros"

"Well, we have a lot to talk about as always!" and with that, he closed the chamber door and grabbed a large bowl of crab soup.

Electrum dragons are few in number, they are a distinct lineage of the metallic dragons and lost a large number of their population tens of thousands of years ago during the great religious wars which ripped the dragonic civilisation on Toril apart, at the same time they were in a genocidal war with the Giants, this is the reason you don't see a lot of the Gem dragons or the more neutral dragons, who were part of the leadership in the faiths and lost a lot of their relatives through the civil war and greater global conflict. 

Olidmardramo was of the opinion that dragons predated the existence of the gods and had no business in the outer planes or worshipping any gods, but also informed me that Electrum dragons were respected scholars in the celestial courts of Kara-tur and many of her kin lived there, particularly on the hundreds of isolated islands to the far east. She neglected to warn me that some of those islands were also home to colossal monsters as large as the walking statues of Waterdeep, but then, I never asked.

Electrum Dragons are predominantly solitary creatures whose chosen abodes emphasize isolation and reflection. Typically found in remote and imposing locales, these dragons choose habitats that include remote mountain peaks, ancient caverns, and even abandoned architecture that has withstood the test of time. These lairs often double as sanctuaries where the dragon can observe the world in a state of near-perpetual reflection—almost as if they were statues carved from living stone on high peaks.

Unlike many other draconic beings that are solely driven by hoarded treasure or sheer destructive power, Electrum Dragons possess an intrinsic philosophical bent. They often retreat into solitude not out of malice or inclination toward isolation, but rather to devote themselves to contemplation, study, and debate. Their lairs are not merely repositories for gold and gems; instead, they are filled with objects of beauty—books, art, and rare information, all carefully collected over centuries.

This commitment to wisdom is also seen in their interactions with other beings. When visitors manage to locate these reclusive dragons, they might be greeted not with hostility, but with an invitation to engage in trade, bargaining, or even intellectual discourse. The curious nature of these dragons encourages them to observe nearby creatures, often from great distances, in matters of combat and conflict, they employ the same sort of distant and wise reserve, using minions, spells and their breath attack before enemies get anywhere near them. But, they are formidable in physical combat, they are true dragons after all, every limb is a weapon them employ, including their wings, they are well known for devastating fly by attacks, using their rear legs and tail to rip through enemies, unleashing magic and their mind melting Ray of enfeeblement or confusion that serves as their unique breath weapon options. Magic though, oh the Electrum dragons are masters of it, they can read it from the moment they hatch and innately detect magic near to them, they also have a magical resistance and the ability to enhance their breath weapon to include blinding and deafening effects on top of the enfeeblement or confusion. They are natural artists and statues that come to life to fight for or otherwise serve them are very common in their lairs.

They may be wise philosophers, but if you present them with something that is as deadly as it is beautiful for their lair, they will trade handsomely for it. A wander around their home unsupervised is highly likely to get you horrifically killed and if ever there was a place for some of Grimtooth's more asthetically clever and pleasingly fiendish traps, this would be it, outside of dwarven strongholds or wizard's towers of course.

Electrum Dragons also have distinctive reproduction cycles. They mate infrequently—often only once per century—reflecting their long lifespans and slow, deliberate lifestyles. The mating ritual itself is a display of both aerial acrobatics and arcane exchange; the dragons engage in playful flight formations that are accompanied by the exchange of spells. This ritualistic behavior symbolically ties together their intellectual pursuits with natural instinct.

Approximately one year after mating, female Electrum Dragons will lay a clutch typically consisting of one to four eggs. 

Their eggs are rubbery and measure about 1 foot (30 centimeters) in length I am told and once laid, the eggs hatch in a few days. I'm not sure exactly what elemental energy type they employ during this stage, but the hatchlings have pale gray skin and scales with rather large eyes of bright green. I think they are quite cute, like copper hatchlings, very talkative with a million questions and long periods of sleep and growth, occasionally they will cast a spell when sleeping, so give them plenty of room and don't wake them up unless you really have to.

As they get older and bigger, their scales gain a polished lustre and start to take on a pearl-like sheen, their eyes remain that bright green but start to become like gems, eventually like liquid mercury in their full maturity, they do tend to read a lot for dragons and its not unknown for them to wear reading glasses, not because their eyes are weakened with age, far from it, no they like owning wondrous items, such as lenses of true seeing and the like, but if it makes others think they have a disadvantage, why correct that assumption?

I often hear from Roleplayers that its difficult to represent a creature that is certainly a lot more intelligent than a human, given centuries of study and experience, so here is my advice... don't, let the game do it for you, you have the power to say "The dragon saw that coming and counters it immediately, annoyed you would try something so obvious, they make a scoffing noise and mimic your voice mockingly, pretending to congratulate themselves, as you, on how clever they are".

The dragon has either done all this before, many times, or they have pondered all the different ways it would pan out, for centuries... any time your players try a tactic that is not completely unexpected, the dragon will be ready for it, waiting for it, crossing it off their bingo list of things stupid humanoids do when raiding your lair or whatever.

You don't outwit them, you don't outsmart them, you can confuse them, use their expectations against them, and hope that they underestimate you and make a silly assumption... dragons hate, absolutely loathe being outwitted, discovered, thwarted and embarrassed, much like cats. Also like cats, a dragon can be too focused on their prey, they may be caught out if they are sure, absolutely certain that the fleeing prey is in a blind panic and running as instinct dictates, they probably would not expect the victim to lead them right into a serious ambush it had no idea was there, because who takes a month to silently creep up the side of a mountain with some seige weapons and a squad of hired archers? Not your typical looting scumbag adventurers, that's who.

Electrum dragons are also scholars and philosophers, to them a great debate is as satisfying as combat, unless they feel very threatened or are protecting some young offspring, they are most likely to at least consider switching from a physical fight to an intellectual one. But don't go into that tactic unprepared, if they grow bored with you, they have already used the conversation as an excuse to get into a good position to bite your head clean off your shoulders. Why? Because they have done this before, maybe dozens of times.

Bring them statues, tapestries, musical instruments, gems, and jewelry; make sure the object is both beautiful and rich in providence, a history, a story or representative of a culture, a time in history, something now lost and only that object remains, these are precious to the electrum dragons and their lairs are full of such things, counter to what you might think, many are handed down among dragons related to or very good friends with each other and they frequently trade items just as you would expect rare and scholarly antique collecters would, its part of the enjoyment of a piece, the fact that it is desired by others.

Electrums fly reasonably well but as Metallics, they have the innate ability to polymorph into other forms, in the case of my friend Olidmardramo she prefered to use male humanoid forms to pass through humanoid dominated lands and had a different persona for Sembia and Turmish, I won't reveal their names but they are known in those lands, well, some might know they are actually a dragon, but you know, I suspect a lot of scholars I meet are dragons in disguise... you never know.

Electrum dragons are very large creatures in their true form though, and being polymorphed for long periods of time is a great strain for them, just the tiny amount that humanoids eat is a problem for their metabolism and being so confined with three limbs missing is a very unpleasant sensation to tolerate for very long. As omnivores, they can quietly accumulate a huge heap of food and drink and just, relax and eat properly, but, they are also predators, they enjoy killing and eating smaller creatures, it's they way they are wired, they find a confused and stumbling drunk human to be... not dangerously erratic, funny or pathethic... they find them to be delicious, slurring your words, acting like a fool and stumbling around them is likely to make them actually start to drool... they are highly intelligent but they are not humanoids, they do not see the world the same way, they have a different moral and ethical outlook and they will never see a little humanoid as their equal. An adult electrum dragon will be no less than 36 feet or 11 meters long, their claws can shred a person just as fast, just as powerful and just as deadly as casually as a Polar bear. As they grow older and larger, they gain more spells that they can cast, such as identify, locate object, dispel magic, telekinesis, some powerful illusions and equally potent healing magic. They are experts on magical texts but not overly fond of elven magic or druidic magic, like most dragons they prefer direct, elemental magical spells and rarely study utility spells, considering metamagic and extending the power of a few core spells that they master over centuries.

Despite being mostly remote and solitary in their lifestyle, they do enjoy trade, welcome visitors and love to engage in debates and the sharing of ideas, there is a lineage of Electrum dragons who are known to be allies of the Elves of Myth Drannor, a location I know little about, but I hear there is a powerful Mythal that permeates that region and the dragons seem to operate within it just fine.

They are also friends to Dwarves, as how could they not admire a culture that produces some of the most gorgeous metal and gem works of art in the world? The lesser dwarven deity named Dugmaren Brightmantle is known to favor the electrum dragons, which makes sense for the dwarven god of scholars and free thinkers. You can blame that god's influence for my friend olidmardramo being obsessed with trying to learn how to read minds.

Coffer Corpse fantasy monster ecology - Tabletop Roleplaying game lore -...

The village of Thistle Hollow barely clung to life after a hard-fought victory against the rampaging orc raiders. The orcs had stormed in with the fury of untamed elements, wreaking havoc in the dead of night with the same force as a savage wind tearing through the valley. The villagers, steeled with desperation and resolve, rallied with axes, pitchforks, slings, and hunting bows to push back the invaders. The battle ended with the orcs lying defeated, their bodies swiftly gathered and thrown onto a pyre at the edge of the village and set alight after a few buckets of pitch were tossed over the stinking mass.

A violent storm, the very one that foreshadowed the orcs’ arrival, returned before the fire could completely reduce the bodies to ashes. The flames were quenched by rain, leaving behind a haunting sight: half-burnt orc corpses, mangled and tangled amongst the remains of the pyre, their final farewell left incomplete. It was against this grim backdrop and a flash of lightning on the ridge a few nights later that heralded the arrival of a well-traveled Sage, his feet bare and sturdy and three red gems gleaming on his chest.

Riding along the muddy road on his trusty mule, the Sage sought ruins for his studies on lost kingdoms and ancient lore. Instead, he was met with a village steeped in terror. Doors were shut tight, and faces peered out with hollow despair. The silence was broken by the trembling voice of the blacksmith’s wife, who confided in a barely audible whisper that something sinister stirred in the night. The complaint was plain—there were unsettling sounds, as though claws were scraping at the doors, and an incident that sent ripples of dread had just occurred.

Uthric, the village tanner, had answered his door believing his child had returned from hunting in the nearby woods. Instead, he found himself ensnared in a merciless grip on the muddy street, his throat constricted as his face drained of color, turning the blue of a frosty winter sky. The horrific scene of his murder and the scant clues remaining were the spark that ignited the Sage’s suspicions.

Drawing near to the half-doused pyre, the Sage recalled similar tales—whispers of restless dead risen from improperly tended burial rites. Scouring the soggy earth, his toes squelched through the wet ash and charred remnants of bodies that still reeked of burnt flesh. There in the mud, a deep trail showed evidence of a large, crawling form that had escaped into the darkness.

“It’s a coffer corpse,” the Sage murmured, his voice low and burdened with grim recognition. “Likely once an orc shaman, its death rites left incomplete. Its soul is chained by unfinished business and it roams with a fury born of neglect, or perhaps one of their gods saw fit to refuse it entry to the afterlife until it takes its revenge on you all.” A strong, soot-streaked blacksmith, who had silently joined him, intervened with a rallying cry to end the curse once and for all.

"To hell with their foul gods and their evil damned souls the lot of them, lets find this thing and destroy it!"

The blacksmith’s simple command to kill the creature was met with a grave response. The Sage, drawing his staff carefully through the ash, implored that steel alone would not best the undead entity. Even if it was ripped apart, the curse embedded in its form would drive it back to life. The situation was dire and required both caution and advanced magical means.

Suddenly, a piercing scream rent the heavy air. Both the Sage and the blacksmith turned to witness an unnerving sight—a hulking figure emerging from behind the stables. This was no mere ghost story; it was the embodiment of cursed vengeance. With flesh blackened by fire and a snarl exposing grotesquely elongated tusks, the creature moved with a purpose, dragging a man by the throat. The victim’s struggles grew feeble as the creature’s vice-like grip strangled the breath from him.

 the lore of Dungeons & Dragons is rich with tales of spirits denied passage to the afterlife. The coffer corpse is a prime example—a cursed monster spawned from the defilement of sacred funerary customs. When a soul leaves the mortal realm without the proper rites, it is left in limbo. This incomplete transition traps the spirit, turning it vengeful and relentless. It is not a creature born solely of malice but one driven by the torment of being trapped and unable to move on to the outer planes.

In many cultures within the game's universe, death does not conclude with the cessation of life. It demands reverence, ritual, and the proper sending off of the departed. When these final rites are interrupted, spiritual energies remain tangled in the mortal coil, festering into a being that carries the scars of its thwarted destiny.

In the case of the Orc, the sage was entirely correct, the god Yurtrus, their foul god of death and disease had denied the soul freedom from the mortal plane until it had killed as many humans as it could before it was destroyed. The terrifying visage of the Coffer Corpse looked as though the flesh had been burned away from its face in the shape of a clawed hand, gleaming bone white out of the ragged, blackened flesh, a sure sign of the white hand of Yurtrus.

In the fantasy worlds of roleplaying games, where magic is very real, it shouldn't be much of a shock that the risen dead can spontaneously occur, when with a simple act of will power, some basic components to achieve the correct resonance and some spoken keywords to attract the attention of powers beyond the mortal world, a clever diabolist can launch a ball of fire powerful enough to blow a drawbridge from its fixtures.

Thankfully, the coffer corpse happens to be vulnerable to even the most basic magic weapon, which can be achieved with a blessing, an enchantment or even clobbering the monster repeatedly with an improvised magic object, such as a magical cape of billowing with a brick wrapped inside it... I bet you never thought of that neat little trick.

The case of the Orc Shaman was unusual but not unprecidented, as normally the generation of a coffer corpse hinges on the violation of time-honored customs. Whether due to the chaos of battle, natural disasters, or deliberate desecration of a body intended to torment the living who cared for that individual in life, the departure from established burial practices marks the beginning of a curse. In Thistle Hollow, the orcs’ bodies were hastily arranged into a pyre, and the interruption of the flames by the returning storm meant that the orc shaman’s soul was left in a state of spiritual despair, it had failed to destroy the village, failed to bring back even a single orc warrior to the tribe, failed to represent the power of the orc people.

Shame, rage and vengeance became a spiritual catalyst for the creature’s existence, allowing the soul to return from the ethereal back into it's corpse. The residual necrotic energy from the half-burnt bodies congealed into it and shortly after, sparked false life to lifeless flesh and bone. To most it would appear as a simple zombie or perhaps a wight, but while it matches the wight's intensity in it's dead eyes, it is devoid of the mortal spark and replaced by that horrible, cat's eye glow, as if reflecting the bright vitality of it's victims, like the gleam of cold moonlight on the dead black eyes of a shark. Like the zombie, it's body offers no apparent resistance to damage even from mundane weapons, and the corpse can be cut down, seemingly destroyed, only to stand back up again, relentless, seemingly unstoppable, striking supernatural fear into the living who witness it.

I've seen professional gladiators mimic this trick a few times, it's always a crowd pleaser, but there is nothing entertaining when a dead thing does it. In my experience, the uninformed seldom stick around to try out different methods to drop the thing permanently, they just run for it, and I hardly blame them.

Coffer Corpses are also tremendously strong, more so than a zombie by far, despite their withered and broken state, they can crush a man's ribs with a single powerful blow, but it is their terrible death grip which they use to snuff out the living.

Once locked in this grip, the victim is rendered mute, unable to call upon spellcasting or even articulate a cry for help. The constant, relentless pressure diminishes the victim’s strength with each passing moment, leaving them grasping and clawing for escape, their fingernails raking at the dead flesh of the undead, who shows no expression as they murder you, no hate, no anger, not even satisfaction as the choke the life from you.

I should mention, the coffer corpse collapsing from damage that actually does it no permanent harm is all a trick, any blow of sufficient force will do, you don't have to calculate every hit point lost, ignore non-magical damage entirely and instead concentrate on how powerful the attack appeared to be and have the undead react accordingly. The whole special feature of this monster hinges on most parties of adventurers having no idea this undead can only be hurt by magic weapons.

It is this combination of an aggressive death grip coupled with the unpredictable strategy of simulated collapse that renders combat with the coffer corpse particularly nerve-wracking. Its ability to bounce back after apparent defeat forces its foes to remain vigilant, never allowing a moment’s ease in an already grueling confrontation. It also makes the role of an informed non-player character who provides this vital information so much more critical to how this encounter plays out.

Like many undead,the Coffer Corpse has a natural immunity to mind-affecting spells and psychic manipulation, rendering attempts to subdue its will largely ineffective. However, it is not physically immune to damage from normal, non-magical sources, it's just that these won't destroy it. Ordinary blades may wound, but they rarely disrupt the cycle of its endless reanimation. Some common sense here is required, for example, lopping its head off and running away with it, or chopping both it's arms off it going to cause the coffer corpse a bit of an inconvenience.

This dependency on enchanted weaponry adds a layer of strategy to any encounter and will make the Coffer Corpse far more dangerous to those with no access, or some stance against using magic of any kind, but never forget, the gods are watching and one need not be a divine spellcaster or champion of a deity to receive a timely and life-saving divine boon. It is extremely rare in the realms to find anyone who refuses to pray to any god... extremely rare, and all it takes is the mere utterance of a god's name and they will be aware of what is going on over a staggeringly large area. Adventurers who venture into territories where the coffer corpse roams must be prepared. Relying on mundane attacks usually results in a grim stalemate, as the creature takes only a momentary pause before once again rising to continue its cursed mission. 

However, its a little worse than I'm letting on here... unless the body is incinerated or, most critically, interred with the correct burial rites the living being it was desired, the Coffer Corpse will rise again with the coming of the night, wandering out of its lair, seeking some place to find its final rest, and never finding it, taking out its rage on the living. This also means, even if the thing is still animated, knowing exactly what those rites are can also cease it's torment and finally stop its attacks on the living, releasing the soul even without destroying the body first, so, this monster can be defeated with knowledge alone, if you have it.

Originally send in to White Dwarf magazine by Simon Eaton, way back in the 70's, the Coffer corpse has seen action in the realms and other fantasy settings for the last 50 years and continues to be a fun addition to the hordes of the undying.

The forgotten Realms wiki has some excellent notes and historic lore on the monster, and I quote..

"During the night coffer corpses would arise, wander around the area in which their corpse was abandoned in search of a peaceful rest, then at dawn return to wherever they were lairing. However, even during daylight hours a coffer corpse would attack people. They hated life itself and were instinctively driven by an urge to deprive others of it due to being denied a complete death. Thus they were known to attack any living humanoid creature that disturbed them, especially priests. Unlike some undead, upon killing a creature the coffer corpse would leave its victim's body alone. It then made sure not to interfere with any other undead that came to scavenge at the corpse, such as ghouls and ghasts. Coffer corpses were occasionally known to fight with weapons, though generally they used their bare hands. They were unusually strong for undead, thus once they had a grip on an opponent it was difficult to release them, especially when a coffer corpse had a death grip around their victim's throat. in the mid-14th century DR, coffer corpses were among the more substantial types of undead that could be found guarding the burial mounds of Uthgardt tribes."  

Oh by the way, there is an excellent new sourcebook on the Uthgardt tribes, with 100% canon lore from the Creators of the Forgotten Realms, available now on DrivethruRPG, support actual Dungeons and Dragons, go pick it up today, you won't be disappointed.

Also in the mid 1400's, the legendary pirate captain Pohl Strongwind returned to life as a coffer corpse. Alongside a crew of ju-ju zombies (yes, I dislike that name as well) he sailed on a ghost ship across the Dragon Reach, terrorizing any vessel they came across, until eventually a group of adventurers put him to rest. You won't find a whole lot of Coffer Corpses in any of the outer planes, of couse, but many serve the dread Drow elf goddess Kiaransalee and there are many found in the Domains of Dread, and the Shadowfell at large.

My name is AJ Pickett, also known as the Mighty Gluestick and Picaroon the Dire Hobbit, Sage of Candlekeep and the Highhand Spire of Mintarn, as always, thanks for listening, and I will be back with more for you, very soon.