She will cut off your fingers and turn them into candles. You will not need the light they shed because she will already have eaten your eyes. |
The Unkindness
It started like this: on the night following a great battle,
a woman and a raven roamed the battlefield, stealing from the dead. The woman
took their valuables. The raven took their eyes. The raven was good at spotting
bodies in the dark. The woman was good at turning over face-down corpses, and
prizing open full-face helms. They made a good team.
The woman had been a shaman, once, before the wars ate
her loved ones and destroyed her life. She knew about spirits; and soon she
realised that just as the raven followed her, so too did a spirit follow the
raven. The spirit was a raven too, in its own way, or at least raven-like: if it had possessed a body, it
would have had something like wings and something like feathers and something
like a beak. The spirit, too, liked corpses. She made offering to it, and
burned corpse-candles for it, made from dead men's fingers coated in their fat.
The spirit prospered. The raven prospered. The woman prospered most of all.
Years passed. The wars went on, and that meant that there
were always more corpses. Lines blurred. The spirit took their valuables. The
raven accepted the corpse-candle offerings. The woman ate their eyes. A ragged
flock developed around her: widows and orphans, mostly, their whole lives
broken by the wars. She taught them to live on the bounty of the dead. They
wore flapping black rags and were accompanied everywhere by great clouds of
ravens. People called them The Unkindness, and shunned them with extremely
well-founded superstitious dread.
Well: all wars end eventually. Order was restored, and the
woman (just how old was she, now?)
was declared a public menace: the first few bounty-hunters failed miserably,
but then a thin man came from a far-away country and shot her full of silver
bullets, and that rather appeared to be that. Her flock dispersed; but they did
not forget her, or what she had taught them; and when they found others like
themselves, ragged and desperate, they taught them, too, how to call so that
the ravens would listen. Today, members of the Unkindness can still be found,
here and there, wherever there are battlefields to be picked over or graves to
be robbed; they know surprising secrets, and are sometimes hired by
unscrupulous individuals to assist in matters of stealth and intrigue. They
pilfer the valuables. They light the corpse-candles. And they eat the eyes.
An Unkindness of Ravens: To play one of the Unkindness, you
must have a constitution of 12 or higher; whatever else they may be, the Ravens
are survivors. You are either the last surviving member of your family or
community, or an outcast from it; the Unkindness recruit only those who have
no-one else to go to. Game information is as follows:
- You can only use simple weapons. You cannot use
heavy shields, or any armour heavier than heavy leather (+3 AC).
- You get 1d6 HP per level.
- You get +2 to all FORT saves. (Included in table
below.)
- You are weirdly difficult to kill. You do not die
unless reduced to a number of negative HP equal to twice your level, and whenever you are reduced to 0 HP or less
you will recover 1 HP every three hours until you reach 1 HP, at which
point you get back up again.
- You gain a bonus to all attack rolls (melee and
ranged) equal to half your level, rounded down.
- You can talk to ravens. They usually treat you as
a friend, especially if you feed them some nice, tasty eyeballs. They
won't risk their lives for you, but they can scout for you and tell you
what they've seen. You are followed everywhere by a flock of 2d6 ravens
(reroll each month), who will act as spies and spotters for you as long as
they are well-fed.
- If you eat the eyes of a human or animal corpse,
you will gain a sudden vision of the last thing they saw before they died.
This vision lasts for one second per level: so a fifth-level Raven will
see the last five seconds of the target's life, and so on. This impression
is purely visual: you won't know what they thought, or felt, or heard,
only what they saw.
- You can make corpse-candles, by taking a human
finger, covering it in human fat, adding a wick of human hair, and
lighting it. Such candles attract the 'benevolent' attentions of the
raven-spirits who are the patrons of the Unkindness, and shed a weird,
flickering light, which will be full of the shadows of birds even if no
birds are present. Anyone within 10' of a lit corpse-candle will move
completely soundlessly as long as they pay any attention at all to where
they tread, and gains +4 AC vs. ranged attacks coming from outside the
circle of illumination. Shiny objects, no matter how tiny, will always
flash out unmissably brightly when illuminated by corpse-candle-light,
which makes them a boon to looters. One corpse-candle will burn for one hour.
Raven Summary Table
Level
|
Hit Points
|
To Hit
Bonus
|
Fortitude
save (FORT)
|
Reflex
save (REF)
|
Willpower
save (WILL)
|
1
|
1d6
|
+0
|
12
|
14
|
14
|
2
|
2d6
|
+1
|
11
|
13
|
13
|
3
|
3d6
|
+1
|
10
|
12
|
12
|
4
|
4d6
|
+2
|
9
|
11
|
11
|
5
|
5d6
|
+2
|
8
|
10
|
10
|
6
|
6d6
|
+3
|
7
|
9
|
9
|
7
|
7d6
|
+3
|
6
|
8
|
8
|
8
|
8d6
|
+4
|
5
|
7
|
7
|
9
|
9d6
|
+4
|
4
|
6
|
6
|
10
|
10d6
|
+5
|
3
|
5
|
5
|
Starting equipment: Layer upon layer of tattered black rags
(treat as heavy leathers, +3 AC), rusty hatchet (1d6 damage), sling (1d4 damage), pair of pliers, spoons
(for easy eye removal), 1d6 pre-prepared corpse-candles, 2d6 ravens which
follow you around everywhere, bag of looted trinkets worth 1d6x10 sp.
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