CHAPTER 7

Allies

Have I ever told you, my lads, the tale of my adventure on the dreaded Isle of Sahu? At the time when I moored offshore the island, I had no idea of its evil reputation as the homeland for necromancers. Even if I had known, I was young and invincible like you, and in search of dangerous adventure. And besides, our ship was badly in need of fresh water and supplies.

Now, when I went ashore with a well-armed landing party of brave souls, I found a curious tower fashioned from rusted metal into the shape of a giant toadstool. As I approached, a door in the base of the tower opened, and a pair of plum-robed men welcomed us with a friendly greeting. The elder, an unusual man with weird, bluish skin, introduced himself as Master Pizentios, a scholar of ancient magic. The other man, a much younger, cadaverously thin fellow, was called Sarzec. I gathered from his deferential treatment of Pizentios that he served as an assistant to the older wizard.

They seemed genuinely friendly—and we had been living on old limes, chipped beef and hard biscuit for so long—that when they invited me and my entire crew to a freshly cooked dinner, I could hardly refuse. The Master graciously welcomed us all into his tall tower and entertained us with tales about the dangers of the surrounding waters, and the beauty of the island’s exotic flowers, which he grew in a private garden. Suddenly, I noticed that all of my sailors were falling insensibly to the floor. Somehow, even though the apprentice served us all from the same bowl, our food had been tainted with a powerful sleeping poison.

As my vision began to blur, the Master motioned silently to the shadows, and the darkness disgorged a winged fiend whose red eyes began to glow hungrily in the dim lamplight. The two necromancers and their diabolical familiar gloated quietly while I sank to the floor, powerless to move my limbs or even speak. I remember hearing one of the wizards grasping a knife on the table, and the scatter of chairs across the floor as he approached one of my fallen sailors. And then I heard, before I fell away into merciful darkness and oblivion, the sound of obscene, urgent slurping as the familiar began its own repast.

—From Captain Omar’s “Tale of Sahu”

Powerful necromancers rarely live alone. Contrary to popular misconception, not all practitioners of the Art abhor company, and even the most reclusive wizard may have at least some servants at his or her beck and call. Although wizards do not normally gain followers like most other character classes once they reach 9th or 10th level, they may still attract apprentice necromancers, hire henchmen, summon familiars, or even create their own undying followers. Finally, sociable necromancers may care to ally themselves with a secret society of their profession, gaining access to a wide variety of potential allies with similar interests.

Unlike the necromancer, death priests gain an entire cult of fanatical followers once they reach 9th level. Their “flock” usually starts with 20–200 0-level followers (as noted in the PHB; see the CPrH for priesthood-specific followers), plus 2d5 minor priests (each 1st–6th level). Obviously this following will grow as the priest advances in power and prestige with his or her deity. The DM may care to extend a priest’s usual entourage with a few “special” guardians or fiendish advisors gleaned from the current chapter.

The decision to flesh out a necromancer character with an entire cast of supporting henchmen and flunkies will normally depend on his or her role in the campaign. This chapter is intended for the DM who wants to turn a necromancer NPC from a minor random encounter into a campaign-ruling menace. When the wizard (or priest) ceases to act as an individual and starts to behave like a master manipulator, complete with free-acting agents to perform his or her bidding, then you have the beginnings of a true campaign villain.

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