Ten of Swords (Class: Fighter, again)

    This world is violent. Many will take up the sword in defense of their lives, or the lives of the ones they love.

   Those who survive long enough pass into campfire story and barroom song. Those sick of killing for pay don the black mask and kill for free. Those sick of war return to their homes and live peacefully. Perhaps.

    But some discovered in themselves a talent beyond the mundane. In them, martial training has awakened the gift of Alden, oldest brother, who forged the first swords so men could better kill one another. These are the Friends of the Wound-Hoe; the Foes of the Tree's Sons; the Shepherds of Swords. Destined to become legends in their own time — or else die painfully.

Drawn by Virgil Burnett, I believe. I have no idea where the picture came from.

Class: Sword-Shepherd

    Before you discovered your almost-mystical abilities, you were a commoner with little to hope for besides the end of war. But now you are One blessed by the old g_ds. Surely you have a higher destiny than that?

    For every template you have of this class you gain one Technique (see below for details). If you have at least one template of Sword-Shepherd you cannot fumble with a sword, and you can wear all types of armor.

Skills: 1. Knife-grinding, 2. Medicine, 3. Riding

Starting Equipment: lamellar coat (as leather), ringsword (medium weapon), wooden shield, a sashimono identifying your army and rank (see equipment list for details), and one other piece of equipment of your choice.

• A Parry, Guard,  +1 To-Hit
• B Bachelor, +2 HP
• C Banneret, +1 Defense
• D Demesne, +1 melee damage

Parry

    Weapons leap from your hand to meet their brothers. Once per round, subtract your attack bonus with a held weapon from incoming melee damage. If this reduces the damage to nothing, feel free to laugh at your opponent.

Guard

    Anyone can cower behind a shield, but you know how to really use one. Once per round you can reduce incoming damage by 1d6, directing it onto your shield. Any damage in excess of that number is still dealt and if the shield blocks six damage it is destroyed.
    If you are not carrying a shield, you can choose to take 1d6 damage from an attack instead of the real amount once per round. You can do this after you know you are going to be hit.
    You cannot use Guard and Parry on the same attack, but you can use them both in the same round.

Bachelor

    You are acknowledged as a member of the warrior caste, and no longer pay tolls for public roads or taxes for goods you are carrying. This protection may or may not extend to your companions depending on how well-known you are in the area and how fast you can talk. Other benefits depend on the region, but you can probably at least issue challenges like a Zouave.

Banneret

    You have become mildly famous, enough that the Emperor himself has granted you the right to use a banner of your own design. This doesn't make you nobility (you can't knight anyone, grant titles &c) but it does give you the right of posse comitatus and to wear armor while walking around town.
    Your banner can be worn by a number of other people (player characters count) equal to your Charisma score. They also have the right to wear armor into civilized places — and if they get into trouble it's your fault, so be careful.

Demesne

    Stories of your victories have spread throughout the land. There is no limit to the number of common hirelings you can have, besides your ability to pay them. Your maximum number of hirelings is now the maximum number of first-level characters you can have following you. At this point, it would be a good idea to invest in a stronghold if you haven't already done so. Common hirelings wearing your banner don't count against your maximum number (though they won't gain any mechanical benefit from this).
    You aren't nobility yet, but if you had a bit of land and a small army all sorts of options would open up for you. . .

Sidebar: Hirelings
These rules assume hirelings are peasanty-types with a 10 in every stat, 3 HP and a bad attitude who you are paying for one specific task. A torch-carrying hireling has a torch, a bag-carrying hireling has a bag, a monster-hitting hireling has a shield and a club. If everyone can hire first-level fighters, this template should be adjusted to reflect that.

  

Techniques:

    These aren't things you learn on your own. Rather, they are taught to you by old masters in the various cities and towns and ancient monasteries scattered throughout the land. Paying these teachers counts towards XP, though some of them might require more from you than cash. Some of the techniques require a specific weapon or class of weapon.

Aeshean
Anyone can teach these techniques, and a first-level character should pick from this list. Most skilled fighters will know at least one of Aeshean technique. Learning these exclusively would be an interesting choice, though not necessarily a good one.

1. Core Strength. Deal normal plus maximum damage on a critical hit.
2. Saw. Sword damage explodes, once.
   
3. Hammer. When you have advantage on an attack, make two attacks instead.
4. Pick. +2 to-hit against armored opponents in melee.

Swan
Elegant techniques, commonly associated with gentlemen-burglars or other romantic types. A city large enough to maintain a thieves' guild will have a teacher for these, but you will need to win their trust by assisting in some scam or heist.

1. Adagio. +1 Parry. Your languorous parries vex opponents and amuse allies.
2. Allegro. +1 Parry. Your sudden, precise movements fascinate even your enemies.
3. Grace. You can parry arrows and thrown weapons. Not bullets. . .  yet.
4. Focus. You can parry directed magical attacks. Doesn't work on things like Fireball or Sleep.

Damask
Techniques of the warrior monks from the west. They fight with a saw-toothed knife in each hand, and can be found in roughly 1-in-6 extremely seedy bars. They value money only because it can be used to purchase rare liquors and food made out of exotic animals.

1. Interplay. While holding a weapon in each hand, deal +2 damage with all attacks. Neither is your "main" weapon; you switch from feint-and-attack to attack-and-feint as opportunities present themselves
2. Ripples. Once per round, reply to a ranged attack with a thrown weapon instantly. Takes the place of your parry.
3. Torrent. While holding a light weapon in each hand, you may make an extra attack each round at disadvantage. If you miss, it looks like you meant to, and people still think you're cool.
4. Beating Rain. While holding a light weapon in each hand, you can throw both of them to make one attack with +4 to-hit. Pack a lot of knives.

Sacerd
Developed by priests, perfected by assassins. These techniques are holy secrets, and can only be learned from an assassin (or a priest (or an assassin-priest)) who owes you a favor.

1. Ritual. You have studied every position, response and riposte in every book of swordplay, and you have memorized them all. +1 AC and +1 to-hit if the only thing you are holding is a sword.
2. Faith. When the flesh fails, rely on the steel. Your critical-hit range is expanded by 1.
3. Hope. If you close your eyes and grip your sword with both hands, you have advantage on all saves against magical effects.
4. Charity. +4 to-hit against the undead. Eternal rest grant unto them, &c &c.

Laqar
In the frigid south these are more common than the Aeshean techniques. It's easy to find a teacher if you are willing to make the journey. Those people use a falx rather than a civilized ringsword, but that won't be a problem for someone like you.

1. Vessis. This means "protective edge" in the old tongue. You may Guard against melee attacks while holding a heavy sword. If the sword blocks six damage the edge is ruined and must be repaired.
   
2. Karamis. Karamis means something like "a malicious misdirection". Once per round, a fumble was actually just a massive windup. Make another attack immediately.
3. Bulumis. This translates to "bolt of angry lightning". While wielding a heavy weapon, your killing blows rend your opponents like dolls. The flying limbs and heads require a Morale check from enemies with fewer HD than the one that was killed.
4. Irthis. "Bruised ass", in the old tongue. When you hit an opponent with a heavy weapon, you can choose to knock them down or shove them five feet away from you instead of dealing damage.

   

Esoterica
You've never encountered someone who knew these techniques, but you may have heard stories. Tracking down a master to teach you is probably a full quest in itself.

1. Ghastly. Not to slay, but to destroy. Your critical hits require your opponent to make a save vs Death or die messily.
2. Divine. To bestow G_d's grace on the undeserving. You always deal full damage to the undead.
3. Cruel. To deny G_d's grace to the undeserving. You can choose to have a slain opponent rise as an Unburied immediately.
4. Bizarre. To close your eyes and flail like an angry lobster. Instead of rolling a d20 when you make an attack, roll 1d4. Treat a 1 as a 1, a 2 as a 5, a 3 as a 15 and a 4 as a 20.

    Learning additional techniques costs 600 XP's worth of cash and a month of training, or twice the money and twice the time for someone who isn't a sword-shepherd.

Equipment

1. Ringsword. Classic Aeshean sword. Looks like a spatha with a big knuckleguard, and the pommel is a ring. Nobles would thread a ball-and-chain through the pommel in ages past, but that style has mostly fallen out of fashion — perhaps you can find a master to teach it to you? 1 slot.


2. Sashimono. A tall banner worn vertically on a long pole, identifying your army and rank to distant observers. The flags of foot-soldiers are probably just blocks of their army's colors. The flags of distinguished fighters will be decorated. Don't wear the wrong flag in the wrong city. 1 slot.


3. Fire-lance. A long metal tube into which a mixture of inflammable reagents and iron shrapnel is poured. When a slow-match is touched to this mixture it ignites and bursts from the mouth of the tube. Everything in a thirty-foot line must make a save to avoid the blast; the closest failure takes 2d6 fire damage and other failures take half. 2 slots.


4. Fire-lance fuel. Comes in horns or kegs. This is not interchangeable with black powder. 1 or 10 slots.


5. Miquelet. Huge, unwieldy black-powder gun. -1 to-hit for every 10 feet between you and your target and fires with disadvantage if you don't have something steady to rest it on (a stand, a castle wall, &c). Takes 1d3 minutes to reload. A proper bullet gives +1 to-hit, but you can load it with coins, shrapnel or crossbow bolt. 3 slots.


6. Black powder. Comes in horns or kegs. 1 or 10 slots.


7. Butterfly-cutters. A pair of light, curved blades carried in one scabbard. Associated with pirates and traveling monks, and generally a sign of someone who should be left alone. +1 damage while wielding them at the same time, 1 slot for the pair.


8. Short Falx. A heavy and razor-sharp hooked blade. Seven feet long if you count its two-foot handle, and mostly unheard of in the civilized world. 2 slots.


9. Long Falx. A heavy and razor-sharp hooked blade. Ten feet long if you count its three-foot handle. Looks like farming equipment and hits for 2d6 damage instead of 1d10. 4 slots (it is extremely inconvenient to carry this thing around).


10. Apache. An abomination of gears and springs. Very popular with thugs who want to look professional. Can be used as brass knuckles, a black-powder pistol or a light knife, -2 to-hit with any functionality. ⅓rd of a slot.


11. Tomahawk. A light hatchet designed as a ranged weapon. +1 to-hit when thrown. Very surprising. 1 slot.


12. Entrenching shovel. Useful as a light weapon in an emergency, but mostly for digging foxholes and outhouses. ⅓rd of a slot.


13. Grappling hook and 50' of rope. 1 slot each.


14. 40' of iron chain. 2 slots.
    


15. Horn bow and 20 arrows. Stats as a shortbow, but can only be used by someone with 12 strength or higher. ⅓rd and 1 slot.


16. Iron chest with lock and key. Contains about a cubic foot or two slots of items, whichever is less. Takes up 2 slots.


17. A full set of watercolors, brushes, and a large binder of heavy paper. Doesn't make you a better artist, but makes you the best artist you can be. 2 slots.


18. A golden dagger. Carefully worked into the appearance of a goat's head, with semi-precious stones for eyes. A light weapon, and worth 15 gp to a collector. ⅓rd of a slot.


19. A single dose of a genuine healing potion. If applied to a wound heals 1d6+2 points of health immediately, and if consumed is an antidote to most poisons. These are rare, and you probably have a story about how you found it.


20. An unusual artifact. Roll 1d6:
    
    1. Lucky mess-kit. If you shake it, the rattles are slightly musical if there is a secret door within 50 feet.
    2. A reversible silk mask; one side shows a skull in black, the other a child's face in white.
    3. A spider-eye stiletto; essentially a steel knitting-needle with a huge emerald as its pommel. It is (very technically) legal to kill a king with this. It is also legal to kill someone who is carrying a spider-eye stiletto.
    4. A packet of seeds of the legendary balm-of-gilead. No one has seen such a tree in a long time. Crushed into a spagyric, these seeds cause forgetfulness and heal psychological trauma.
    5. Unlucky sword. No fumbles, no criticals, but if you roll a 13 while attacking with it then you accidentally smash a nearby fragile object or person. You tried to get smart with it, once, and threw it into the ocean. The drowned corpse that came after you the next evening carried the cursed thing back.
    6. Corpse-liquor. Tastes like death, and a drop can contaminate a whole meal. Smells like (and might be made from) rose-hips. 

Biblical Values (some Cleric spells)

    The spells for my cleric class are extremely dull. I don't know what I was thinking. Here are a few spells that are a little stranger.

Spell List

A cleric's spells are not wild spirits. They are the personal angelic servants of G_d and serve the clerics at His pleasure; they can not be bred or mutated against their will. Fortunately, they are on the same side as the caster and will usually be cooperative.

1. Heal
R: Touch T: an injured person D: immediate.
The target is healed for [sum] hitpoints. If you invest more dice you can choose to forgo the healing for a different benefit.
If two dice is invested, this is a Lesser Restore, and can close a flesh wound or knit a broken bone.
If three dice are invested, this is a Restore, and can repair a mangled eye or regrow a missing ear.
Four dice invested result in a Greater Restore which can reattach a recently-severed limb or regrow fingers and toes.
Five dice make this spell a Miracle, which can regrow essential organs or missing limbs, and can cure any number of diseases.

2. Turn
R: 20*[dice]' T: [sum] enemies D: up to [dice] hours.
Targets within range are compelled to flee the presence of the cleric. Intelligent creatures get a save to resist this; unintelligent undead do not. Intelligent creatures are also smart enough to take potshots at the cleric from beyond the range of the spell. If the cleric takes any damage the spell immediately ends.
If you invest three dice or more, you can destroy any number of Unburied within range in addition to the normal effects of the spell.

3. Hallow
R: 30*[dice]' T: a valid square area at most 30*[dice]' to a side, or [dice] corpses D: [dice]*6 hours, or permanent.
This spell can only be performed as a ritual.
A valid area has four solid corners and something to serve as an altar. In a pinch, four piles of rocks and a big rock will do, but four corners of a room and a real altar is preferable. Rituals performed in this area only take one hour. If this spell is cast with four dice (three plus the ritual die) then the area is permanently consecrated.
If you are targeting corpses they will not rise as Unburied, and cannot be raised by any caster of lower level than you.

4. Kindle
R: touch T: a creature or object D: immediate
Target takes [sum] points of fire damage. Can only be cast immediately after hitting a target with a melee weapon. Inanimate objects are automatically hit.

These were fine. Healing, turning, hallowing and smiting are all valuable and essential tools of the cleric's box.

5. Iconoclasm
R: shouting distance T: a solid object or structure of D: instant
This spell applies sudden sharp force to an inanimate target within range. The strength of this force depends on the number of [dice] you invest; a single die can do what you could do with a large hammer (shatter a household idol or destroy a painting), two dice can do what you could do with an assistant and some basic tools (knock over a man-sized idol, smash open a locked door or chest), three dice can do the work of ten men with pulleys and levers (topple a 20-foot statue, collapse a wooden building), four dice are worth a team of workmen and a full day (collapse a stone building, shatter half an acre of woodland).
Legends say that casting this spell with five dice or more could pull the walls of a city down, or cut a new pass in a mountain.

Something like a Knock spell, but more clerical

6. Bless
R: 10*[dice]' T: [sum] creatures within range D: [dice] hours
You cast this spell by screaming, praying and prophesying as loud as you can while holding your hands above your head. If you have a staff or a sword you should be holding that in your hands. While you are doing this, all targets within range get a [dice] bonus on every d20 roll they make.
The spell ends immediately if you take any damage or if you drop your hands for any reason. A constitution save every minute would be appropriate.

A few clerics scattered among an army make it much more formidable. Intelligent enemies know to target the cleric in the middle of the group of armored knights.

7. Deluge
R: [dice] miles T: a circular area centered on you D: [dice] days.
If cast with one die, clouds gather over the course of [least] days to steadily rain on the target area for the duration of the spell. If cast with two, clouds hurry to the area on sudden winds over [least] hours. If cast with three, the clouds are visibly dragged across the sky within [least] minutes. Casting this spell with four [dice] will cause you to vomit out dark stormclouds which form immediately, and the duration is extended to [sum] days.
If you were to cast this with five dice or more, you could choose any duration for the rain. A malicious cleric might drown an entire region with such a spell.

Rain isn't necessarily a bad thing. Farmers affected by a drought would be quite grateful for a little rain (three days of steady downpour is probably too much). A powerful storm could also serve to mask a stealthy approach, or flood a camp of enemy soldiers.

8. Pillar
R: 30' T: a cylindrical volume [dice]*5' in radius and [dice]*20' high D: [dice] minutes
The target volume is filled with a roaring whirlwind for the duration. Unsecured objects will be thrown around, and ranged attacks (made from, directed into or passing through) automatically miss. Flying creatures will take 1d6 damage every round from flying debris.
On their turn, the caster can choose to move the the pillar sixty feet in any direction. The mass of rushing garbage deals [dice] damage to unarmored creatures it passes over, no save.

Mostly useful as mobile cover from ranged attacks, but can be used to intimidate, or to ruin someone's day. Casting this underground would be a terrible idea (and probably very funny).

9. Sackcloth and Ashes
R: shouting distance T: an intelligent creature with HD equal to or higher than [dice] D: [dice] rounds
The caster makes a complex theological argument describing the target's many sins. At the end of the duration, compare the [sum] to the target's hitpoints. If [sum] is higher, the target immediately abandons all material goods and leaves for parts unknown to start their lives over again.
If the caster takes damage while making their argument, the spell fails and the dice are lost. The target is likely to attack the caster unless they are of a highly religious bent.

More effective on damaged targets, and most effective on targets that are being held down.

10. Glory
R: n/a T: self D: [dice] hours
The caster's head is lit with a halo of divine radiance. For the duration, they are noticeably more attractive. The halo casts brilliant light out to [best]*10', and hirelings and party members get a +[dice] bonus to morale rolls and saves against Fear.

Nice bit of classic miracle-work. Will enemies target the behaloed caster first? Probably.

11. Summon Scavengers
R: 300' T: a point within range D: [dice] hours
[sum] HD worth of wild animals will swarm the target and attempt to consume anything edible. With one die, this will be mostly insects and they will eat unguarded food. With two, this will include rodents and other small vermin, which may attack people in the area. Three dice will summon scavenger birds and four will summon foxes, raccoons and wild dogs, all of which will attack humans and each other. Stories of powerful clerics summoning 1d100 bears with this spell are likely apocryphal.

I don't know what use this spell is but some people might like it.

Mighty Man (Class: Specialist)

    Knowledge of the digging of ditches, the hewing of forests, the laying of stones in roads and the building of structures was one of the first gifts given to man by the g_ds. Timotheos, dark-haired third brother, taught these skills to his chosen peoples to protect them from the dangerous world he had created.

    All civilized people have a basic understanding of these skills. Some specialize, and a culture will have a preferred building style, but anyone can dig a hole or chop a small tree. A small team, especially one led by a competent builder, can dig and hew and mold the earth into a camp in a few hours. Many hands makes for exponentially lighter labor.

    Some people don't need a team at all.

Barbarians in the frozen south, civilized men in the temperate north.

    You are a member of a chalcolithic pagan tribe called the "Builders". You were brought to the civilized world (the world of crop rotation, dressed stone and iron) to perform hard manual labor. It's possible you were a slave or a prisoner of war, but most likely you were lured by the promise of riches — your tribe has a legendary weakness for precious metal and stones.

    At home your people worshiped an ancient being you called the "Old Man in the Ice". The Old Man dictates that his worshipers be scarified with knives and burning mistletoe, and makes bizarre demands in the darkness of their minds. The lands of the Builders are littered with impressive but abandoned structures and riddled with half-collapsed mines.

    The civilized folk thought this to be the limit of your magic and your use; but a few decades ago, with the redevelopment of furnace technology, ironmongery became widespread and a boss thought to place an iron tool into a Builder's hands. It was then that they discovered either a holy secret of Timotheos, or else a strange oversight in your design. . .

Class: Builder

    You are a Builder; a barbarian valued as manual labor. Your people are a common sight around major engineering projects or in large cities. Your abilities are far above those of normal humanity, and are further increased with weird and mystical effects when wielding iron tools.

    For every template you have of this class you gain +1 Stealth. If you have at least one template of Builder you cannot fumble with weapons you are holding in two hands. You cannot wear medium or heavy armor unless a template from another class allows you.

    If you die, you do not rise from the dead unless at the pleasure of the Old Man.

Skills: 1. Fishing, 2. Knapping, 3. Psychotropic Brewing

Starting Equipment: Workman's clothes, a felling axe (medium weapon), your choice of trenching shovel, mattock or sledge (see below for equipment list), an iron collar identifying you as a foreigner, a low voice in your head which whispers to you constantly, and one other piece of gear of your choice.

• A Steel-Driven, Foreigner, +1 HP
• B Ploughman's Lunch, +1 To-Hit
• C Old Man's Eye, +1 HP
• D Strength of Many, +1 To-Hit

Steel-Driven

    You naturally excel at all forms of construction, landscaping and earthmoving.  For example:

• A human can fell a tree very fast with a good axe. A Builder can chop a tree down in one minute per foot of diameter
• A human can dig a full-sized grave in perhaps eight hours; a Builder can dig that in four.
• When erecting a structure, each Builder counts as two human workers. This is a general rule which should be applied to any engineering project.

    There is, in addition, a fell passion that sometimes grips members of your pagan rite. While holding an iron tool in your hands you can choose to enter a wild frenzy. Roll 2d6. If you roll a pair of 2's, 3's or 4's you suffer an Accident, and if you roll snake-eyes you suffer a Catastrophe.

Those in the grip of the frenzy move at double speed for the duration and finish their tasks in half the time. Frenzied characters make an extra attack in combat, but gain a slot of exhaustion every time they do so. The frenzy ends after one hour or immediately upon becoming encumbered. It has a 2-in-6 chance of ending immediately after taking damage from any source.

    You can enter the frenzy as many times per day as you have Builder templates.

    Noble and academic types, who don't work with their hands, find you amusing. Farmers and gravediggers find you jaw-dropping, and extended projects may draw crowds of cheering onlookers or local strongmen to challenge you.

Foreigner

    Your accent, your rations and your stride indicate that you hail from the half-savage frozen wastelands of the south. Some non-player characters will be offended by or afraid of you, while others may be eager to hear your stories and then hire you to build a dam. Concealing your identity by wearing a huge black cloak and refusing to speak will actually make people more suspicious, but you can still try it.

    Obviously this is only true in the civilized world. If adventuring in the half-savage frozen wastelands of the south, assume that you have a 4-in-6 chance of being recognized as an enemy in any town or camp. Barbarians kill people wearing huge black cloaks on sight.

Ploughman's Lunch

    Your natural stamina lets you recover quickly. When you take a Lunch, you also lose two slots of exhaustion. If you consume a ration immediately before entering your frenzy you reduce your chances of suffering an Accident by 1. A quart of small beer or a half-cup of hard liquor counts as a ration for you.

Old Man's Eye

    Your success has drawn the attention of the Old Man, who claimed your soul as an infant with a series of rituals, culminating in the tattooing of one of his eyes upon your chest. He has watched you through that eye for your entire life, first idly, but now with interest. You are ready to help him achieve his goals.

     Agents of the Old Man are given strange tasks which they must fulfill or suffer two consequences; first, you lose the good grace of your g_d and will rise from the dead like everyone else, and second, every time you enter your frenzy you have a 2-in-6 chance of losing your mind for 1d6 rounds and making wild attacks against random targets. The Old Man isn't cursing you, he is simply withdrawing his stabilizing presence from a body not adapted to Chaos. Fulfilling his requests earns eldritch favor, which takes many forms.

    The Old Man typically gives out his quests on the new moon, though of course he has no obligation to you whatsoever and can give them out whenever he feels like. A few examples:

Unpleasant Tasks:

1. Go to a certain valley, a few days travel from where you received this task, and dig a deep well. It must be at least one-hundred feet deep by the next new moon. It doesn't need to be lined with stone, but it does need to be at least five feet across and at most twenty (a flooded quarry is not a well).
2. Make a burnt offering to the Old Man and host a wild celebration. You will need at least twenty human party guests (Unburied don't count, but Cobolds might). You will also need to keep a fire burning all night and sacrifice either five horses, ten cows, twenty-five sheep or fifty birds. This must be completed by the next new moon
3. You must build a bridge over the next river you come to at the point where you reach it. It must be able to hold at least your weight, and if it collapses or is left uncompleted before the next new moon then you have failed.
4. Find and kill an exceptionally dangerous Cobold in an abandoned mine, about five days travel from where you received this task. She is guarded by 2d4 of her fellows and knows a single random cleric spell which she casts with one die. This must be completed by the next new moon.
5. Fulfill the next request made of you by a non-player character. You can negotiate for pay, but you must complete it according to their specifications. Smart Builders make a habit of cutting off the fingers of those who ask them for free labor, to keep people from thinking they might get lucky.
6. Find seven metal spoons and swallow them one after the other. Pass a constitution save or take a point of damage next time you, you know...

Strange Rewards:

1. Until the next new moon, you are invisible when you close your eyes and stay perfectly still. You may need to make a constitution check to maintain stillness for more than a minute or so.
2. Until the next new moon, your face is different. Someone who has only seen you, or only spoken to you briefly, will be unable to recognize you. At the next new moon, save or the change is permanent.
3. You gain +1 HP. Each time you roll this result, another tattoo appears on your skin. After three increases you must wear heavy clothing to conceal the eye, and after six they cover your face.
4. Your teeth grow 1d4 centimeters. At five centimeters extra they limit your ability to speak. These can be filed down to normal(ish), or to sharp points which horrify non-player characters.
5. Your body feels strangely unsteady, as if you are newly made. Old scars fade and heal. Until the next new moon your chance of rolling an Accident is reduced by 1.
6. You are filled with an unspeakable and horrible hunger to be drunk. Until the next new moon you heal 1 HP when you drink at least a quart of small beer or a half-cup of liquor.

Strength of Many

    At will, roll 2d6 and add that number to any strength related roll of a twenty-sided die. The higher number is inflicted to you as damage. You experience a rush of energy and an awful pain in your chest when you use this feature; people nearby notice rising temperatures and the smell of burning hair.

Accidents

1. Shooting pain. Take 1 point of damage and drop what you are holding.
2. Too much grip; you shatter the handle of your tool as your tendons spasm. You can craft a suitable handle in an hour if you have the lumber, or replace it in five minutes if you have a spare.
3. Strange energies; the edge of the tool dulls as the iron evaporates. You can file down or sharpen it in half an hour's work with a whetstone. Hammers are unaffected.
4. Too little grip. Everyone within 15 feet makes a wisdom save to duck; worst result takes 1 point of damage. If no one is within 15 feet, the tool flies off and it takes you ten minutes to find it.
5. Mind the backswing! The tool twists in your hands like a snake. You take 1d6 damage, or apply it to someone within 5 feet of you.
6. Six-second blackout. Your tool is ruined beyond repair; the splintered stump of handle has teeth marks on it. If someone is nearby they didn't see anything either and you can't make them admit otherwise.

Catastrophe 

1. Minor heart attack. You drop what you are holding and can do nothing but clutch your chest and wince for 1d6 rounds. 
2. Major heart attack. You are reduced to 0 health and black out. Your strength and constitution scores are both reduced by 2; you heal one point of stat loss with a night of rest or six with a Restoration spell.
3. The Big One. Your heart ruins itself. This is lethal if you still need a heart.

You are immune to catastrophes if you don't have, or don't need, a heart. A casting of Greater Restoration reduces the severity by one.

And now, the Gear:

From Frank Leslie's Popular Monthly, "The Cheapest Magazine in the World"

1. Felling Axe. Effective tool for cutting down men as well. Medium weapon.
2. Trenching Shovel. Long blade-like head, for drainage ditches and such. Makes an excellent lever. Medium, but can't be used effectively in one hand.
3. Mattock. A pickaxe with a spike on one side and a flat cutting or digging blade on the other. Essential tool of gravediggers. Medium, but can't be used effectively in one hand.
4. Sledge. Tool of wreckers and rock-breakers. About three times too heavy to be a warhammer. Large weapon, but suffers a -2 to-hit and deals +2 damage.
5. Tongs. Good for handling hot metal, poking at traps and holding steel spikes in place while someone else hits them with a sledge. Counts as a light weapon.
6. Black Powder. Comes in horns or kegs, you have a horn of it. The keg is probably as dangerous as a Fireball. 1 or 10 slots.
7. Crowbar. Good for prying, acts as a light weapon.
8. Hammer, sheath of 10 iron nails. 1 slot each.
9. A hand drill with a six-inch bit. Can make a hole in sedimentary rock in five minutes and igneous in half an hour. 1 slot.
10. 40 feet of iron chain, 2 slots.
11. 50 feet of rope, 1 slot.
12. Brick hod. Holds 5 slots, must held in two hands. You could also use this as a scoop or to boost people up ledges.
13. Throwing Sword, light weapon, throwable 20 feet. Returns to your hand if it doesn't hit anything; if you throw such that it collides with your enemy on the return trip, it hits them at the start of next round and you have advantage on the attack roll.
14. Big smelly sack of ermine skins. Worth 5 gold per day's travel to the nearest port. 5 slots.
15. Blacksign Toadstools, three doses. Roll 1d6 and that ability score is inverted (11 -> 9, 7 -> 13, 10 -> 10). Effects last until you get a night of sleep.
16. Seagold gloves. Crafted from the flesh of a rare deep sea creature by a witch-woman of your homeland. Unarmed attacks deal full damage to the undead.
17. Hair bleach, three doses. Also works on beards, fur and most woods. Very poisonous.
18. Come-along stick. Solid iron ten-foot-pole. Heavy. 4 slots.
19. Atlatl, as shortbow +1. Uses javelins instead of arrows (javelins are three to a slot). 1 slot.
20. A weird or inexplicable curio. Roll 1d6:
    
    • 1. Human skull with three eye sockets.
    • 2. Bar of adamant. In theory, a priceless artifact. In practice, an indestructible paperweight. 1 slot.
    • 3. Skin of mares-blood liquor. Powerful emetic, unless you like mare's blood liquor. 1 slot.
    • 4. An arrow. The shaft, head, fletching are all gold. Worth 15 gold to a collector in good condition. If you fire it, it always deals full damage +2 but is reduced to 5 gold worth of scrap on a fumbled attack.
    • 5. Priest mask, yellow serpent — heresy! 
    • 6. Golden anklet-bells. Their cheery sound can be heard for miles by the undead, who hate it and will risk destruction to end their ringing.

Gun On Your Shoulder (Class: Fighter)

Inspired by a discussion in the OSR Discord.

Source: Wikipedia

    A simple axiom of the universe; things which are better at surviving live, and things which are worse die. This evolutionary pressure is constantly applied to every population. Warfare, especially the messy kind predating antibiotics and painkillers, is a very strong evolutionary pressure on a population (young soldiers) already selected for competence and fighting ability.
    Some people think this is evil. War is a terrible thing, they say, and death a cruel joke played on Man by callous g_ds. They scoff at the glory-ardent, and jeer at the old lie of "Dulce et decorum est/pro patria mori".
    Not you, though. You understand.

Class: Zouave

    You are a Zouave, light infantry trained for ambush, scouting and extended periods in the field. You are not a noble, but neither are you a peasant levy. You volunteered to protect your homeland. You provided your own equipment, learned the art of war, rose through the ranks, became a cunning veteran, seized victory in battles where you were outnumbered 20-to-1, shaped the face of the world with nothing but your sword-arm and sturdy snapchance — and then you won, and the war was over.
    Most of your friends are turnip farmers or fishermen now, or dead. You tried the peaceful life. Maybe you even stuck with it for a few years; but when you realized the only thing you looked forward to was sharing half-true war-stories with the old men in the tavern, you took your sword and your gun down from the wall and set out on your last adventure

    For every template you have in this class you gain +1 inventory slot and +1 HP. If you have at least one template of Zouave, you cannot fumble with mundane weapons and can wear light and medium armor.

Skills: 1. Forestry, 2. Rock-Climbing, 3. Ditchdigging

Starting Equipment: Slightly ridiculous old-fashioned uniform (as leather), an iron ringsword (medium), a snapchance and powderhorn (see below for equipment list), good pair of boots, excellent backpack, one other piece of kit of your choice.

• A Tall Tales, Nonplussed, Extra Attack Per Round
• B Respect
• C Old Friends, Extra Attack Per Round
• D Nose for Trouble

Tall Tales
You've been everywhere, man. Roll 3d12 on the following table of mostly-true things you did before becoming an adventurer and record the results. If you roll the same result twice, take your choice of the one above or below.

1. Crossed the Deserts Bare. Your long campaign took you as far as the frozen mud-puddle of Arel, where trees never grow and people wear stupid coats all year round. A six-month guerilla campaign against a vastly superior force of manhunters taught you the value of good boots and warm wool socks.
   
   You and your party travel at full speed over rough terrain.


2. Breathed the Mountain Air. Your long campaign wound through the mountains and over steep peaks. You developed an instinct for avalanches and rockslides, and learned the ways of the goat and the warg.
   
   You and your party travel over normally impassable terrain as if it were rough.


3. Travelled Every Road in This Here Land. Your long campaign took you... everywhere, really.
   
   You can read roadsigns in any language, and you and your party move 1.5x as fast when on actual roads.


4. Hunted the Dead in the Hills. During one part of your campaign, your unit was tasked with cleaning out Unburied-infested ghost towns which threatened your supply lines. This was treacherous work, and you still have nightmares about an encounter with a cobold in the cellar of a church.
   
   You can smell a human corpse from two hundred feet. If you stay perfectly still for a full minute, you can hear the difference between a dark room which is silent and a dark room in which someone is not making a sound.


5. Forded Eden White in Flood. You took part in a famous pre-dawn raid over a broad, deep river. Half of your force was swept away and drowned, but the enemy was taken entirely by surprise, and their leaders were slain before the watchmen were roused. Educated officers will have learned about this raid in the academy.
   
   You have a +4 bonus to any roll against being moved against your will.


6. Killed an Evil Wizard With My Bare Hands. This one is a straight-up lie: you actually bashed the wizard to death with the occult manacles he had placed on you in preparation for a goetic sacrifice.
   
   You can tell the difference between magical and non-magical items by tasting them, and you get an extra save against any Command spell.


7. Waded Ankle-Deep in Blood. You took part in an infamous blockade of a fortified city. The six-month siege resulted in the destruction of the walls and the slaughter of the inhabitants, which caused a mass-rising of the Unburied. The city is abandoned to this day and the survivors curse your name.
   
   You can identify the value of a mundane item in a real damn hurry, about as accurately as a first-level thief.


8. Rode Beside A Hero. You once rode vanguard for a young man with a strange birthmark and a bad habit of rescuing people. Later, he distinguished himself as the Chosen One in some prophecy or other. This fact might be worth a free drink or two, but unless you can find the boy again, you probably won't get the full benefit of this tall tale.


9. Strolled Through a Blockade. You were once besieged in a fortified city, cut off from supplies of food and water. When all hope seemed lost, you slipped out a side door one evening and walked through the enemy line. No one challenged you. You were as surprised by this as anyone.
   
   Outside of combat, people just assume you are where you belong unless given a compelling reason not to.


10. Killed Three Men With One Shot. This one is also not true. You shot one man who was at the top of a tall ladder, and he knocked two others off as he fell.
    
    If you roll a critical hit with a firearm you make a ballistically improbable shot. The target you hit moves up to 10' in any direction you choose, including straight up. It's the Dungeon Master's problem to explain how this is possible.


11. Won a Game of Riddles With A Giant. Self-explanatory, really. They were good riddles.
    
    Non-player characters take your riddles very seriously, although this usually isn't enough to dissuade them from killing you.


12. Narrowly Escaped an Angry Husband. One escapade in a post-battle debauch led to a deadly choice: face an angry and armed city headsman while totally nude, or leap headfirst out a third-story window. You chose the leap, survived the fall, and haven't been afraid of heights since.
    
    You treat every fall as if it were 10 feet lower.
    

Nonplussed
You've seen it before. Twice. You have a +4 bonus on saves vs. Fear. If you succeed, allies and hirelings who can see you have a +2 bonus to their save. Even if you fail the save, if you were carrying a loaded pistol you can take a shot before running away.


Respect
You aren’t some bumbling conscript, you're a Zouave, and people around here are starting to remember what that means. Peasant militias, wandering thief-catchers and other assorted low-caste warriors will look to you for guidance. Even the nobility will stop to listen if you make a fuss, although they might have you horsewhipped if you say something they don’t like. In addition, you can issue a challenge to an NPC you aren't currently fighting. Roll a d6 to determine their response, which depends on their social class:

1. Peasant:
       1: Disbelief and derision,
       2-6: Intimidation and apology.
   
2. Soldier:
       1: Loud mockery. Expect his friends to try and beat you up.
       2-5: They accept. Expect a fistfight or, at best, a choice of two sturdy clubs
       6: Intimidation and awkward verbal submission.
3. Noble (shitty):
       1-2: A horsewhipping
       3-6: They accept. Name your terms.
4. Noble (not shitty):
       1: Guards! Guards!
       2-5: A horsewhipping, followed by a second and more thorough horsewhipping
       6: Pistols at dawn.

Old Friends
They found you at last; the ones you've been trying to avoid for years. They might owe you a debt, but they are probably here to collect instead. This is someone who featured in one of your tall tales; maybe a survivor of a siege, or a hero, or an angry husband. Or a giant. Or a goat. Or a dead wizard.


Nose for Trouble
Your paranoia has saved your life many times, and if you attend to it closely it will save you many times more. You always go first in combat. If you are surprised, you aren't. If you take someone else by surprise you deal maximum damage with all attacks on your first turn. You sleep with a loaded gun under your pillow, and unless you've been strip-searched you always have 1d4 knives on your person. If someone demands you hand over your weapons you can pull the old unloading-an-armory gag and hand over all four — but you will still be carrying the 1d4.

Source: Wikipedia

Kit

1. Ringsword. Classic Aeshean sword. Looks like a spatha with a big knuckleguard, and the pommel is a ring. Nobles would thread a ball-and-chain through the pommel in ages past, but that style has mostly fallen out of fashion.


2. Snapchance. Classic Aeshean black-powder pistol. About the size, shape and weight of a foot attached to a calf. Deals 2d6 damage on a hit. Takes a full minute to reload, and fires with disadvantage if you moved last turn. -1 to-hit for every 10 feet between you and the target.
   A proper bullet gives a flat +1 to-hit, but you can load it with coins, shrapnel or crossbow bolts for no bonus.


3. Black Powder. Comes in horns or kegs, you have a horn of it. The keg is probably as dangerous as a Fireball. Enough ink has been shed on this topic; I'm sure I don't need to explain how to use black powder in a game. 1 or 10 slots.


4. Excellent Backpack. Every adventurer wears a backpack, but this one is really excellent. Allows you to carry two more items before becoming encumbered (not two more items total).


5. Grapnel and 50' of rope. 1 slot each


6. 40' of iron chain. 2 slots.


7. A shortbow and a quiver with 20 arrows. 1 slot each.


8. A wool cloak with a camouflage pattern of your choice. Options include: forest (green), desert (brown), ice (white and grey), sea (dark blue with green bits), sky (bright blue with white bits), city (cityscape), Hell (red and orange).


9. A hammer and 10 eighteen-inch iron spikes. 1 slot each.


10. A hand drill with a six-inch bit. Can make a hole in sedimentary rock in five minutes and igneous in half an hour. 1 slot.


11. A flask that keeps hot things hot and cold things cold. Not magical, but if you suddenly produce a cup of steaming hot chocolate people might mistake you for an angel. 1 slot.


12. A gleaming brass shield which can serve as a mirror. 2 slots.


13. A stiff leather bag stuffed with straw, taller and broader than a man. Holding this below you lets you treat a fall as 20 feet shorter. 5 slots.


14. A pair of manacles lined with gold. 1 slot.


15. A pair of fashionable pincenez in an ivory sheath, which slightly (~1.15 times) magnify your vision.


16. A book of famous poetry and quotations. Gorgeous leather binding, silk cover, perhaps an autograph from the poet.


17. A small case of snake oil. The tinctures, ointments and potions inside have a 1-in-6 chance of healing 1 HP when applied. You could make 5d4 gp hawking this stuff on the sidewalk, or use it to impersonate a doctor. 2 slots.


18. A golden candlestick. Worth 20 gp in good condition. Can be used as a light weapon against the undead, but it breaks on an attack roll of 1 and is only worth 5 gp as scrap. 1 slot.


19. Red Powder. Comes in horns or kegs, you have a horn of it. This stuff is weaker than black powder, so weapons loaded with it deal two points of damage less, but it can fire when soaking wet, produces no smoke and is almost silent. The muzzle flash is lurid red and much brighter than that of normal powder. 2 or 20 slots (very heavy)


20. A weird or inexplicable curio. Roll 1d6:
    
    • 1. A locket with a lacquer portrait of an old woman. If you whisper a message into the locket and close it immediately, the message will be repeated in an old woman's voice the next time the locket is opened.
    • 2. A crude bronze key, inscribed with eye-watering runes of evil import. The pagan magic of this key will seize up any mundane lock. They can then only be opened by the twin of this key — which, unfortunately, you do not own. It also doesn't make doors more difficult to bash down.
    • 3. A polished piece of cobalt ore, which looks exactly like a closed fist from one angle. 
    • 4. A red ribbon with gold brocade. Three feet long, and at least four times stronger than iron chain.
    • 5. An antimakassar with a map scrawled on it in blood. It isn't immediately obvious what it's a map of, but it has a big X mark and the words "GRAVEBORN SINNER HIDES THE GOLD 45 ½ AA"
    • A bronze skull with an opening on the top. Twice as deep as it is tall. Occupies 1 slot in your inventory, 2 slots of items can be contained within it.

Things That Will Eat You and Where You Might Find Them

    Why did the g_ds allow Chaos to enter into their creation? The Heilagrians put forward that the plans the g_ds had for the world are beyond the ability of humans to understand and should never be questioned. The Palatian school held that Chaos is the fundamental substance of reality; the material world is encroaching on it, not the other way around. The modern Aeshean church teaches that the g_ds were not strong enough to resist the encroaching darkness. This is how we know the old folk-religions are false (G_d's reason for including Chaos is probably something like heilagrianism).

    The effects of Chaos corrupt the living and return life to the dead. From it the anti-clerics draw evil power, and in it dwell the strange creatures to which the heretic magnates sell their souls. Civilization clings to the ancient fortified cities whose walls were built when the g_ds dealt with man face to face. To leave the safety of those walls is to leave behind the world of light and sanity and to wager your soul against superstition and undying evil. Those who make that wager often look on their more cautious brothers with sneering superiority; and consider their own lives all the more noble for their painful brevity.

Know, O Prince, that between the years when Atlantis and her gleaming cities drank the bitter sea, and the years of the rise of the sons of Aryas, there was an age undreamed of, where proud and ancient kingdoms lay spread out like silken mantles beneath the sky.

    The most common Chaotic threat in the wilderness is, of course, the Unburied. Corpses left unconsecrated and exposed to the night sky will rise again, motivated by unholy hatred of light and laughter. Even a single walking corpse is a serious threat to an unguarded settlement, as they are almost impossible to kill without sorcery or golden arms; small communities know they are only delaying the inevitable with their night watchmen and burning arrows.

Unburied

2HD+2
Appearance: a walking corpse, usually in a state of advanced decay. Wears the clothing and carries the accoutrements of life.
Wants: to kill living things, to spread pain and fear, to avoid fires or to quench them if possible. To silence music and put an end to cheer.
Armor: as chain. Their flesh ablates when struck. They do not feel pain.
Move: 12 (normal human speed). The Unburied do not weary. They can run a human down over long distances.
Intelligence: animal-like.
Morale: 8 (very low for an undead with subhuman intellect; they are easily intimidated by fire or large groups)

Attacks: The Unburied make two clumsy claw attacks against a single target on its turn, for 1d4+1 damage each with no to-hit bonus. If both claws hit the zombie grabs its target and bites them for an additional 1d4+1 damage. This attack can kill a peasant in a single shot. Those who are killed have a 2-in-6 chance of immediately rising as an Unburied; otherwise, they have the normal chance of rising at sunset.
If the Unburied is carrying weapons or equipment they will use those instead. They still make two attacks but no longer bite.

Spontaneous Generation: A corpse left unburied and exposed to the sky has a 10% chance of rising as an Unburied every sunset. This is not cumulative, and a body may lie outside for weeks before rising.

Undead: Weapons, even enchanted ones (unless specifically enchanted for this purpose), deal half damage to the Unburied. Because of gold's affinity to the sun weapons made of the material deal normal damage, but any golden weapon larger than a knife is impractical. The Unburied are damaged (1d6 a round) by sunlight or fire. They know this and take steps to avoid both. Abandoned houses are their favorite.


Horde: These lesser undead are rarely found alone. If you encounter an Unburied randomly, there is a 5-in-6 chance you will almost immediately notice a second walking corpse. Roll again for this one, and the next one, and the next one. . .

From the Nuremberg Chronicles. I usually do a shitty traceover of woodcuts, but this one looks really nice and is colored.

    Adventurers who think they can avoid the undead menace by putting out to sea are likely to fall prey to the Drift-dead. A corpse left unburied and floating in water will rise again, motivated by inconsolable guilt and misplaced anger. Sailors who fear death by drowning wear golden body piercings — this does not prevent them from rising, but the superstition is common. Children in coastal communities learn young to never play by the water after dark.
    To drown is a deeply shameful way to die because it almost ensures that your body will rise again to plague the living. The Drift-dead understand this to some degree. They may attempt to revisit friends and family members from their past, or to follow captains they served under. Legends speak of pirate vessels trailed by legions of corpses, and of parents torn apart in their beds by prodigal children they sent to sea. 

Drift-dead

4HD+4
Appearance: a disturbance in the water, or a mass of wriggling rot and sea-slime dragging itself up out of the surf.
Wants: to kill living things, to spread pain and misery, to quench fires and destroy light sources. To stalk happy families in well-lit homes, especially those it knew in life.
Armor: as plate. It is almost impossible to harm the Drift-dead with normal weaponry.
Move: 9 (burdened). Their rotting limbs struggle to propel them on land. They are faster in the water, however, and swimming humans have little chance of escape.
Intelligence: disjointed and confused.
Morale: 10 (despite advanced decay they will avoid certain destruction)

Attacks: The Drift-dead makes one lunging attack at a single target on its turn, for 1d6+4 damage, with a +4 to-hit bonus if both the target and the Drift-dead are in water. If it hits, the target is tangled in seaweed and rot. On land, a tangled creature moves at ½ speed; in water a creature that requires air immediately begins to drown. A human who is killed or drowned by a Drift-dead has a 4-in-6 chance of immediately rising immediately.

Spontaneous Generation: A corpse left unburied and floating in water has a 35% chance of rising as a Drift-dead every sunset. This is not cumulative, and a body may float unattended for days before rising.

Undead: Weapons, even enchanted ones (unless specifically enchanted for this purpose), deal half damage to the Drift-dead. Because of gold's affinity to the sun weapons made of the material deal normal damage (this knowledge is even less useful in the water). The Drift-dead are damaged (1d6 a round) by sunlight or fire. They know this, which is why they spend most of their time underwater.


Scavenger: The Drift-dead follow ships as eels and sharks do, and for the same reason. A small ship has a 2-in-6 chance of being followed by 1d4 undead, a medium-sized ship 3-in-6 for 1d4+2, and a large ship or a pirate vessel is always followed by 2d4+2 Drift-dead. A fair wind or a full day of hard rowing can leave them behind, but becalmed vessels will gather more dead soon enough The Drift-dead aren't quite nimble enough to climb the hull, but small vessels might be vulnerable to being tipped or dragged. . .

That boat is barely bigger than they are! Poor bastards never stood a chance.

    One of the worst ways to die is to be lost underground. Miners rarely speak of this (to prevent their fearful words from jinxing the beams and supports of the tunnels), but the thought never leaves their minds. A corpse unburied will rise again, but what happens to someone who is buried while still alive? Battered and bleeding after a cave-in or accidental fall, wandering alone in the perfect darkness, growing colder and colder — you wouldn't even realize it when you died. Not until you came across some other poor lost soul, and woke to find yourself picking your teeth with their gnawed bones.
    The Cobolds, as they are called, are the most dangerous of the common undead. Something about their manner of dying twisted them up, turning them cruel and insane while preserving their intelligence. In life they were trapped beneath the earth; in death they are trapped in their own mummifying bodies, unable to escape even if they were standing before the very gates of the adit. They have nothing to hope for but true death.

Cobolds

8HD+4
Appearance: a man or woman dressed in work clothes, their skin oil-black and taut across their bones, peeling away in some places.
Wants: to kill living things, to spread fear, to commit acts of sabotage and create more Cobolds. To be destroyed in fire.
Armor: as unarmored. It isn't that it's difficult to hit their brittle bodies, it's that they are totally incapable of caring about physical damage.
Move: 15 (faster than a man). Miners move slowly for fear of low ceilings; Cobolds no longer care if they shatter themselves on the rocks.
Intelligence: Human-level, but malicious and irrational.
Morale: 12 (they fear nothing. they might even go out of their way to attack powerful groups in the hopes of being destroyed)

Attacks: A Cobold makes three quick claw attacks against a single target on its turn, for 1d4+2 damage with a +2 to-hit. If two attacks hit it makes a fourth. Cobolds will use darkness and cramped passageways to their advantage, and are intelligent enough to plan complex ambushes or chase opponents into pits or other hazards.

Spontaneous Generation: A corpse left unburied and far away from the light of the sun has a 5% chance of rising as a Trapped every seventy-two hours. This is not cumulative, and a body may lie undisturbed for months before rising. Someone who dies very slowly while conscious, however, has a 75% chance of immediately becoming a Cobold; this chance may be increased if they were terrified when they died, or by natural affinity for Chaos.

Undead:Weapons, even enchanted ones (unless specifically enchanted for this purpose), deal half damage to Cobolds.  Because of gold's affinity to the sun weapons made of the material deal normal damage, and miners may carry a golden dagger or cosh for this reason. Cobolds are also damaged (2d6 a round) by sunlight or fire. They flee from both of these as if Turned, and will attempt to set up traps to get rid of torches.


Dark Influence: Cobolds wants to create more Cobolds, and a walking corpse is a tireless saboteur. A single Cobold can take down an entire complex. Rumors that one is lurking in the darkness can shut down a mine. The bosses protest; the workers are cajoled back into the tunnels — and then, suddenly, the entrances collapse, and the mine is plunged into insanity. One such catastrophe can create a dozen new high-level undead.
Specialist hunters will be called into mines where such activity is suspected. The rewards are high; the risks of pursuing an intelligent undead in its own home are higher. . .

Is that a light? Have you found your way out at last?

Blessed of G_d (Class: Cleric)

    Hello! If you followed a link to this Cleric, the information is out of date. Go read this new post instead.

 The undead are a constant threat; a sword of Damocles hanging over the civilized world. When the proper funeral rituals are not performed on a new corpse it sometimes rises as a monster the peasants call "Unburied". Parties of corpse-hunters patrol city streets by night, while the forests are full of ravaged woodcutters, and the hills are dense with cabinfuls of starving wights. The Drowned (born of lost sailors) and the Trapped (born of lost miners) are even more dangerous, but the common Unburied are more than enough to overwhelm small settlements.

 The Heretic, Witch and Warlock must also be dealt with. These foes of civilization and Law are more cunning than any walking corpse, and those who hunt them must be more cunning still. The forces of Chaos can be found at all levels of society, in every city, working at every profession, and taking any form which might give them an advantage.

 Clearly, then, there is justification for an Order empowered against the forces of the night. Agents of this Order would be given broad warrant to accomplish their goals. If you come across a zombie attacking a villager, or a noble family having an orgy with a herd of goats, you can hardly wait around for some bureaucrat to rubber-stamp a form. Immediate action is called for. These paladins are not subject to secular regulation; their pursuit of Law and Order (bom bom) transcends worldly borders.
 That doesn't mean that they don't have rules of their own to follow.

Bits of fifteenth-century medical woodcuts.

Cleric Errant

Disease

     When searching for good diseases, you will come across rules like "every two hours roll a constitution save, if you fail you lose 1 wisdom and 3 dexterity, which you regain in 8 hours, unless you roll an odd number of saves, in which case save against Charisma or [...]", alongside names like "Blundecralian Anus Rot" or "Hairy Bones".

     Problems with these rules: many fiddly numbers, therefore easy to forget. Not intuitive; I like my diseases with names I immediately recognize. Inconsistent with the fiction of the world; if the non-player characters are afraid of a disease, it should be something fearful.
Worst of all these rules are lame. Dying horribly of a disease should be cool.

     Here is my take on disease. Originally for use with 5e, altered to be GLOG compatible-ish. Fairly generic.

• 1 – Cat Scratch.
  Vectors: Wild animal bites and scratches.
  Symptoms: Red lumps on the skin, then fatigue, then joint pain. Infected characters have two slots of exhaustion that rest does not remove.
  Cured by: A month of bed rest with plenty of fluids or a Lesser Restoration spell. Characters skilled in forestry or medicine may be able to craft a cure from wildflowers.
  Permanent effects: None. Characters who have once been infected can be infected again.

• 2 – Malaria
  Vectors: Jungles, swamps, other places with foul rotting things and stagnant water and biting insects.
  Symptoms: Chills, then fever, then sweating and shaking. Infected characters immediately drop anything in their hands when they roll a critical failure with any d20.
  Cured by: A month of bed rest with plenty of fluids or a Lesser Restoration spell. Characters skilled in forestry or medicine may be able to craft a cure from willow bark.
  Permanent effects: Characters who have once been infected with malaria will have advantage on saves against reinfection. Even after being cured, gaining exhaustion will give you the effects of malaria until you complete a long rest. Only a Greater Restoration or divine favor will end this permanent effect.

• 3 – Bubonic Plague
  Vectors: Filth, rats, exposure to places where people have died of Black Plague.
  Symptoms: Chills, then malaise, then high fever and muscle spasms, ending with death. At any point up to a month after your character comes into contact with a vector, your DM may require you to make a save against catching the Black Plague in this form.
  Cured by: A week of bed rest and plenty of fluids. Every day make a Constitution save and record the result. Three failures will result in instant death, three successes will cure you. A doctor present when you make the check or a casting of Lesser Restoration will immediately grant you one success. A casting of Restoration will cure you.
  Permanent effects: Characters who have once been infected will not be able to contract the Bubonic form again.

• 4 – Pneumonic Plague
  Vectors: Rats, infected persons, black magic and the undead.
  Symptoms: All Bubonic symptoms in addition to blood in the lungs. At any point up to a week after your character comes into contact with a vector, your DM may require you to make a save against catching the Black Plague in this form.
  Cured by: Three days of bed rest and plenty of fluids. Every eight hours make a Constitution save with a -2 penalty and record the result. Three failures will result in instant death, three successes will cure you. A skilled doctor or a casting of Lesser Restoration will immediately grant you one success, and a Greater Restoration will cure you.
  Permanent effects: Characters who have once been infected will not be able to contract the Bubonic or Pneumonic forms again. The horrible scarring of the necrotized flesh means you will be shunned by peasantry, but educated characters will know you are more dependable for having survived this, and will react accordingly.

• 5 – Septicemic Plague
  Vectors: Taking melee damage from infected persons or the undead, various black magics, infected material directly entering a wound.
  Symptoms: All Pneumonic symptoms in addition to blood from orifices and under the skin. Immediately upon exposure to a vector, your DM may require you to make a save against catching the Black Plague in this form.
  Cured by: Nothing. Every 1 minute make a Constitution save with a -2 penalty and record the result. . Three failures will result in instant death, three successes resets both counters. Every time you reach three successes, you have a 1-in-6 chance of recovering. A casting of Restoration will immediately grant you one success, and a Greater Restoration will cure you. Doctors will be of no help.
  Permanent Effects: Characters who have once been infected are now immune to the Black Plague, and furthermore take half damage from evil magic. You must wear a mask to go about society, and removing that mask may incite a Morale check from all non-player characters present.

• 6 – Leprosy
  Vectors: Dark magic is the most common vector, as it is difficult to catch this disease from lepers.
  Symptoms: Loss of sensation in the extremities accompanied with discoloration of skin. Lepers have disadvantage on saves against all other diseases, but have advantage on saves against Fear and are unaffected by pain.
  Cured by: Only divine favor can cure leprosy.
  Permanent Effects: The disease itself is permanent.

• 7 – Rabies
  Vectors: Wild animal bites and scratches, damage from the undead, damage from infected persons.
  Symptoms: Painful thirst and fear of water, followed by loss of speech and inability to understand any language, ending with death. Rabies develops rapidly over the course of 1d4+1 days.
  Cured by: Rabies can not be cured by normal means and almost always kills the infected person. Cleaning the wound carefully within an hour from exposure to a vector will ensure the disease is not caught at all, but once a character has been infected only a Restoration spell or better will save them.
  Permanent Effects: None. Characters who have once been infected by rabies can be infected again.

• 8 – Red Death
  Vectors: Dark magic, skin contact with blood of the infected, the undead.
  Symptoms: Confusion and disorientation, then blood from all orifices, ending with death. One day after coming into contact with a vector, you have a 5-in-6 chance of contracting the Red Death. The disease develops rapidly over the course of a few minutes.
  Cured by: Only Greater Regeneration or divine favor can save an infected person.
  Permanent Effects: The corpse of the infected person is damaged to the point that they cannot be brought back from the dead without a True Resurrection or the direct intervention of the being that possesses their soul (usually their deity).

• 9 – Scurvy
  Vectors: Extended use of rations in the place of fresh food (~one month, depending on the rations).
  Symptoms: Joint pain, then opening of old wounds and tooth loss. Characters suffering from scurvy do not heal when taking a Lunch, and healing spells are only half as effective.
  Cured by: While any healing spell can hold off the effects for one day, scurvy is a nutritional deficit and will quickly return. It can easily be cured by eating fresh fruit and vegetables for a few days.
  Permanent effects: None. Characters who have once been infected can be infected again.

• 10 – Tetanus
  Vectors: Dirty or rusty weapons, such as those carried by monsters.
  Symptoms: Bone-breaking muscle spasms and difficulty speaking. Infected characters cannot speak, and can not cast any spells which require them to speak. Any time the character fails a Strength check, they take 1d4 damage as their muscles lock and tear.
  Cured by: A month of bed rest with plenty of fluids or a casting of the Lesser Restoration spell. Characters skilled in forestry or medicine may be able to craft a cure from charcoal and alcohol.
  Permanent effects: None. Characters who have once been infected can be infected again.

• 11 – Lyme
  Vectors: Insects common in temperate forests.
  Symptoms: Joint pain, large bullseye rashes, then delirium. Infected characters are partially paralyzed. Each morning roll a d4:
  

  1. Face paralyzed, cannot speak.
  2. Legs paralyzed, must crawl at half speed or be carried.
  3. Arms paralyzed, cannot use their hands.
  4. Lungs paralyzed, unable to do anything except lie on their back and focus on breathing. Every time they are forced to roll a d20 they receive two slots of exhaustion.

  Cured by: A month of bed rest with plenty of fluids or a casting of the Lesser Restoration spell. There is no normal cure.
  Permanent effects: Even after being cured, gaining exhaustion will give you the effects of Lyme until you complete a long rest. Only a Greater Restoration or divine favor will end this permanent effect.

  
  

• 12 – Common Cold
  Vectors: Swimming, other people, being cold.
  Symptoms: Mild headache and a runny nose.
  Cured by: This disease respects nothing, neither of Man nor G_d. There is no medicine, and no magic, which can cure the common cold. Only 1d3+1 days will save you.
  Permanent effects: None. Characters who have once been infected can be infected again.

Conclusion:

     Lyme, Tetanus, Scurvy, Rabies, Malaria and Cat Scratch are worksite hazards for adventurers. Note that only Rabies has the primary effect of killing the character. The other diseases are intended to complicate gameplay, though you can certainly have them be lethal if left untreated.
     The three types of Bubonic Plague, along with the Red Death, are nation-destabilizing metathreats. These might be brought by an angry g_d, or they could be part of the plan of an ancient lich.