Not to get too meta on you, but the warsworn is, at first
glance, a pretty standard Monster Book #3
or Higher undead. What I mean
by this is that most monster compendiums that run into a third or fourth volume
tend to have some kind of made-from-a-pile-of-corpses undead specimen.
That’s not a dig
on my part—it totally makes sense.
Undead are hard to concept at high levels—lean too heavy toward thematic
special abilities, the monster often ends up resembling a vampire or ghost;
lean too hard toward spells, the monster ends up resembling a mummy or
lich. But one archetype that isn’t
represented in the core Bestiary
undead is a representation of mass death from battle—which is exactly what the
warsworn is.
It’s also a key archetype. In the modern world, we’re (thankfully) largely ignorant of
death on a mass scale. Atrocities
can and do (tragically) occur, but in the First World we rarely see sheer piles
of the dead the way our forefathers did during times of war. Imagine coming upon a field in the
aftermath of a battle and seeing the corpses lying where they fell, or piled
into mounds for burning. After a
certain degree of carnage, the carnage itself must seem a force all on its
own—a hungry, animate thing that devours all before it.
And that is what
sets the warsworn apart at the stat block level (and what keeps it from being
just a made-from-a-pile-of-corpses undead). A warsworn isn’t just an animate pile of dead—it’s an
animate pile of dead that eats. That hungers. That feeds
off corpses to add them to its body and heal itself. Even better, it can animate
swords and hurl scrap balls(!) at opponents. It thinks, it plans, it attacks, it consumes. It is a siege engine made of the dead
with a life and will of its own.
It’s no accident the warsworn first showed up during the
Kingmaker Adventure Path—these are the perfect undead for the war-torn,
live-by-the-sword environ of the River Kingdoms. Ditto Mendev, the Hold of Belkzen, near Gallowspire, and of
course anywhere in the Worldwound.
(And 3.5 players, don’t feel left out—the warsworn
practically screams Mournland or Acheron.)
And of course, like most intelligent undead, every warsworn
has—and is—a story. How did these
warriors fall? And what—or
who—compelled them to rise again?
In The Sublime Art, Lu Tzweh speaks of
the necessity of strategic surrender.
In life, however, he fought till the end, then returned to fight again
after the corpses of his troops were defiled. The warsworn that was Lu Tzweh and his men has a particular
loathing for native outsiders, as it was a rogue band of apostate aasimars that
slew him.
One of the odder
sites for a warsworn is midway up the Eternal’s Clock in Tarse. The titan-crafted spire is a maze of chokepoints
and murder holes, and in recorded history there has never been fewer than three
factions claiming the monument at any one time. When the Bastard King tried to muscle past the gholdakos and
berbalangs that held the North Passage, his men died by the scores. The warsworn that resulted now has the
run of the entire level, blocking access to the top third of the Clock from all
troops who cannot fly.
The power that
animates a warsworn is often divine in nature. That’s what makes the Blood Fields of Panthius so
interesting. When the
traditionalist Steadfasts and the Reformers in White clashed, more than 10,000
men and women died in a day. Two
warsworn were born from the countless dead, and every full moon they fight each
other again, as if acting out conflict anew. Which raises several questions: Does the deity Panthius
support both sides, Steadfast and Reformer alike? Is another power animating the heretics (or the
traditionalists) to undermine and embarrass Lord Panthius? Or are the god’s eyes somehow blind to
this spot, allowing fell forces to frolic in the absence of his loving gaze?
—Pathfinder #35
88–89 & Pathfinder Bestiary 4 272
An extended write-up for warsworn is in Pathfinder #35: War of the River Kings.
Where is the vulture?
Over here. The walrus? You’ll have to wait till we cover the
emperor walrus.
No comments:
Post a Comment