Draped in fine dark robes, this undead creature’s body seems to be made of equal parts bone, leathery flesh, and blood-red smoke. Ghuls are undead jann whose eternal existence was twisted by fate. As if the curse of undeath and ravenous hunger were not enough, these once-majestic creatures now bear donkey hooves as feet. Despite their horrific undead appearance, this feature shames them the most, and they hide their feet from view. Ghuls, like ghouls and ghasts, haunt cemeteries and other places of the dead hoping to feed on corpses. They also hunt mourners and grave tenders, as they enjoy the taste of living prey as well as that of the dead. Selective in their diets, ghuls choose their victims by personality, believing innocence and youth taste more delicious than the barely palatable flesh of the bitter and old. Sometimes a ghul follows a funeral procession in hyena form, keeping a safe distance until the ceremony, whereupon it changes into its true form to attack and feast. Sorrow and despair taste as delicious as innocence to a ghul.
While not directly affected by sunlight, ghuls despise its presence and only move about during the day if forced to by necessity. They primarily hunt at night, sometimes straying far from their graveyard lairs and burial caves in search of fresh prey to sate their hunger. The longer a ghul goes without feeding, the more ferocious and primal the creature becomes. A well-sated ghul organizes with others of its kind and lesser undead, tormenting nearby towns and settlements. A ghul involved with this level of organization often has a scattered set of lairs throughout the desert. These allow the ghul to strike far from its home lair and hide again without having to travel during the blistering daylight sun. When a ghul goes for too long without feeding, it becomes increasingly feral and violent—its statistics don’t change, but it grows less concerned with fleeing combat, even when it is obviously outmatched.
This is a disembodied phantom who wears black robes that swirl around a maw of sharp teeth.
Geists have the ability to take control of haunts and have a powerful laugh that can cause fear.
They can be found on the Negative Plane or in the Underdark.
A duppy is the spirit of a cruel and brutal sailor who died by violence on land, away from his ship and crew, and thus was unable to receive a proper burial at sea.
While its ghostly form is evidence enough of its twisted hatred, a duppy also possesses power over a pack of faithful, otherworldly hounds that share in their master’s malevolence. The appearance of a duppy is often preceded by the distant sound of unearthly howling.
Duppies typically seek out sailors and pirates when exacting their vengeance, inflicting great violence on those living creatures who remind them of what they lost.
For this reason, duppies are most often found in seaside towns or nearby beaches, and settlements that rely on the ocean know to fear and hate these spectral beings.
Though a duppy’s incorporeal form ensures that it can’t be captured by mundane means, those who do manage to trick a duppy into a magical trap are wise to keep the horror confined until the daytime, when its otherworldly abilities are hindered and it can be more easily defeated.
Some tales claim that duppies arise near the treasures they buried while they were still alive, and ambitious sailors who buy into these stories might attempt to capture a duppy.
However, few creatures can muster powers strong enough to cage a duppy, whose hounds confound enemies and allow the ghostly monster to attack victims from all sides.
This monstrously sized, undead bat has mottled, decayed flesh and eyes that smolder with an unholy green glow. Known in some circles as ghoul bats, skavelings are the hideous result of necromantic manipulation by necormancers, who create them from mobats specially raised on diets of fungus and humanoid flesh. Upon reaching maturity, necormancers ritually slay the bats using necrotic poisons, then raise the corpses to serve as mounts and guardians.
They are also known as ghoul bats.
An immolith is an undead demonic creature that is sometimes created when the spirits of deceased demons have fallen back into the Abyss.
Immoliths greatly despise living creatures, and they are often found accompanying other undead such as liches and vampires, although they can also be found with other demons such as horde ghouls, mezzodemons, and vrocks.
Immoliths are perpetually surrounded by flames and foes getting too close are likely to catch fire. They attack with their claws, which can also cause foes to catch fire.An immolith can curse enemies which slows them down and causes them to catch fire, and an immolith’s grab can eliminate enemies’ fire resistance. An immolith can heal itself and any nearby undead creatures.
The hideous penanggalen is one of the most horrific vampiric monstrosities. By day, a penanggalen appears to be a normal humanoid, but at night or when provoked, the creature’s head rips free from the rest of her body, coils of viscera and entrails dangling from her throat as she launches into the air, seeking blood to sate her unholy thirst.
Unlike most undead, the penanggalen is more akin to the lich in that she willfully abandons both her mortality and morality to become a hideous undead monster. While penanggalens are traditionally female spellcasters, any creature capable of performing the vile ritual of transformation can become one.
Similar to a lich, a creature works toward becoming a penanggalen. More than one such transformation ritual exists, but all require heinous acts that symbolize the casting aside of kindness, benevolence, and any semblance of feelings other than cruelty. Many of these rituals call for the repeated consumption of blood, bile, tears, and other fluids drawn from captured and tortured innocents.
A penanggalen keeps a vat of vinegar in her lair. When returning from a night of feeding, a penanggalen’s organs are swollen with blood. In order to fit back into her body, the penanggalen must soak for 1 hour in this vat of vinegar. Once reduced, a penanggalen slides back into her body. If a penanggalen is slain away from her body, the body rapidly deteriorates into foul-smelling grit.
The penanggalen presented above was a witch in life.
The Baykok is a howling corpse that swoops through the air with hideously elongated legs and a bow made of bone.
When hunters become utterly obsessed with the chase and indulge excessively in the savagery of the kill, their souls become progressively tainted. When such remorseless hunters perish before they can capture and kill their quarry, they sometimes rise from death as baykoks—flying undead horrors that kill purely for the ecstasy that only murder can bring them.
Unlike many undead who feed on and hate all living things, a baykok seeks always to prove its mastery of the hunt. Though thoroughly wicked, baykoks often ignore all but the most powerful-looking foe in a group, only picking off lesser creatures if they dare to get between the baykok and its true prey. When it finally lays low its quarry, the baykok swoops down on the victim to devour the creature’s soul in an attempt to make sure the creature never returns to seek revenge.
Barely contained in thick glass, this deformed humanoid creature wriggles in its jar or crawls along the ground like a baby.
Grotesque curiosities, pickled punks are deformed, often-humanoid fetuses raised by necromancers and stored in jars of embalming fluid. Every pickled punk is different and the level of deformity spans a spectrum between the mildly lopsided to the utterly unfathomable. Though they seem harmless at first—even laughable—pickled punks are hungry creatures that attack without provocation when freed from their jars. Some pickled punks rock and wriggle in their jars in hopes of falling off a shelf or table and shattering their glass prison (such jars typically have hardness 1 and 2 hit points). Once freed, a pickled punk pulls itself across the ground with its malformed limbs in search of sustenance. Unless weaned from its taste for blood or constantly controlled, pickled punks become a danger to their creators.
Some necromancers of Myrkul (especially those on the edge of sanity) and some intelligent undead cultivate a fondness for pickled punks and regard them as their children. They talk to their various jars in cooing tones and are known to even carry around favored specimens on outings and social calls, often granting them names and imagined personalities.
The spectral panther is a literately a panther that is a spectre. They can be found on the Ethereal Plane or the Plane of Negative Energy.
They roam in packs and can fade in and out of the plane at will. they attack with their claws and bite which causes to drain ones positive energy.
Over long winters or on high mountain peaks, human remains become freeze-dried husks with perfectly preserved hair, clothes, and skin, but without any liquid remaining in their fl esh. When animated, these corpses become icegaunts, intelligent undead tied to alpine glaciers and vast polar ice caps.
An icegaunt is a weathered, wrinkled creature with blue like skin and a cold, bony handshake. It can speak, though only haltingly and in a harsh rasp common to frostbite victims. Its clothes are sometimes covered with frost or ice, but otherwise normal for the terrain. Careful observers will notice that icegaunts do not breathe.
Icegaunts are commonly the result of sacrifices to mountain gods. In a few cases, icegaunts are created from the bodies of polar explorers, who then wander endlessly, seeking to lead others astray in a frozen death. Because their well-preserved flesh makes them appear more aged than withered, icegaunts can sometimes fool others into following them. As false guides, they inevitably lead others into glacial crevasses or avalanches, or onto dangerouslythin ice.
Icegaunts speak Common.