Revenant

“Every day, without fail, food was left in the little antechambers; the commissaries of the dead occupied a large part of the palace. Presumably they enjoyed it; they never complained, or came back for seconds. Look after the dead, said the priests, and the dead would look after you. After all, they were in the majority.”

-- Terry Pratchett, Pyramids





The city rustles with the passage of the dead, embalmed skin creaking over the old bones of an unliving aristocracy. A shallow and unmarked grave erupts with wet earth as a pale hand bursts forth, clawing for freedom, for revenge. The paladin rarely doffs her armor, and never removes her bandages, but her comrades understand: they just ask she doesn't try to help with the cooking.

Night of the Living Dead

Not all of the undead are mindless corpse-puppets. It is possible through secret rites to achieve a state of intelligent undeath, the soul bound forever to its body in the moments before death. The necropolitan societies that permit this process become monuments to eternity, where the living and dead exist side by side.

Other revenants rise naturally, driven from the grave by a terrible grudge or divine command. These intelligent undead are barred from the afterlife until they find closure: kings whose tombs were desecrated, sages murdered on the brink of discovery, heroes returned to face an ancient enemy.

Skin and Bones

A revenant is an animated dead body; those supernaturally preserved by the circumstances of their undeath seem cold and pale, absent the little sounds and sighs and twitches that mark any living creature.

Most of the undead decay normally, however. Such revenants must seek the services of an undertaker-priest, or putrefy and rot until the flesh leaves their bones entirely. They favor masks, full-face helmets, veils, or other means of hiding their grisly appearance, and often use pomanders to disguise even the mildest musty smell.

Dim light glows in every revenant's eyesockets, regardless of whether any eyes still sit there. The same animating force allows them to speak clearly without lips, a tongue, or even vocal cords, producing a slight echo with each word.

Death's Doorstep

Most natural revenants are driven by obsession with an oath they swore or grudge they bear: only a conclusion will allow them to move on. Particularly old revenants honor long-dead cultures and pray to departed gods, confusing any who listen with their perspective on ancient history.

Necropolitan culture is highly traditional, calcified by eons of aristocracy who value only their own wisdom. It also tends to be materialistic; necropolitans rejected the promises of the gods in favor of earthly immortality. Its rulers can partake in few sensory pleasures, but the joys of power, knowledge, and treasure dominate necropolitan society.

You can take it with you, after all.

An Awfully Big Adventure

Those revenants drawn from the grave by an ancient curse, the call of the gods, or simple unrelenting willpower are seldom found anywhere but the path to adventure. It is the very reason for their existence.

The undead necropolitans are more likely to adventure in search of dark knowledge or marvellous wealth to fund their eternal lifestyle, or pay back whatever debts they owe for it. Others find a new lease on life after death, and seek to wander the world they never saw while alive.

Revenant Names

A revenant's name is not changed by death, though some adopt false monikers out of shame, or to hide the fact that they're "named after" an ancient hero.

Necropolitans are often named for their ancestors, to curry favor with past generations. This can lead to confusing stacks of undead as time marches on: Garth, named for Agartha, named for Agatha, named for Agata III, II, and I, named for the Agate Dynasty, and so on.

In more extreme cases, a necropolitan nation may only grant a name to the dead: the living are fleeting, and those who pass on without earning eternity are hardly people at all. Mortals receive only pet names or even numbers, and are expected to abandon all ties upon their demise.