Constructs

Not all deities trust their worship to the care of fickle, short-lived mortals. When it comes to their most sacred sites, many gods entrust the duty of caretaker to celedons, immortal automatons of perfect faith.  Forged of the purest extraplanar metals, every celedon exists to serve a single deity. Each possesses a boundless willingness to praise their deity’s name, whether through song, oration, mock battle, or whatever performance their creator favors. Most spend the entirety of their existences tending a single holy place, repeating rituals, perfecting services, and creating new works to laud their particular deities. Celedons in the service of a goddess of law might perform an endless cycle of daily ceremonies and shrine upkeep, with time set aside for copying scripture and adjudicating disputes between the faithful. Those who serve a chaotic god of destruction might perform sacrifices as whims strike them, while erratically preparing weapons of war. While only those celedons created by martially minded deities function as warriors, most of these divine constructs zealously defend their divinely chosen homes and eagerly sacrifice themselves in their defense.  Celedons always honor and work to serve the word of their patron deity, nimbly navigating contradictions or hypocrisy in divine dogma. However, if an individual can, through extreme circumstances, convince a celedon to abandon her faith, the results are dramatic. A faithless celedon emits a blast of energy that deals 4d6 points of damage to all creatures within 10 feet, after which her sentience leaves her. The celedon continues to exist and mindlessly performs maintenance routines and other simple duties, but her Intelligence score and all special abilities are lost forever—a fate most celedons consider more merciful than living with apostasy. Revelations capable of causing a celedon to lose faith are exceedingly rare, usually due to exceptional circumstances or adventures—a celedon can’t be persuaded to abandon her faith through mere rhetorical skill.  Most celedons look like idealized humanoids, though their metallic appearances conform to the preferences of their creators.

The iron cobra is a simple construct that resembles a hooded cobra made out of metal. The iron cobra is typically used as a bodyguard or guardian of treasure, though its magical ability to unerringly locate creatures means it is also used as an assassin. Since an iron cobra’s poison reservoir can contain multiple types of venom, the construct’s specific use can be further tailored by varying the poison used. Some spellcasters even fill these reservoirs with potions, so that when the cobra bites, it injects the potion into its target. This is a somewhat dangerous method for gaining the effects of a potion, but it does free up the cobra’s master to do other things in a combat round apart from quaffing potions.

Iron is the most common material for these creations, but some crafters prefer more exotic materials when creating the serpentine constructs.
Adamantine Cobra (+1 CR): This cobra is more solidly built than others. Its natural armor bonus increases to +12, it gains +5 hp per HD, and it gain DR 10/—.
Cold Iron Cobra (+0 CR): This cobra’s natural attacks count as cold iron for the purpose of bypassing DR.
Darkwood Cobra (+0 CR): This cobra is more mobile; it gains a swim speed of 30 ft. and a climb speed of 20 ft.
Mithral Cobra (+1 CR): This cobra is much swifter. Its Dexterity increases by +4 and its speed to 70 ft., and it can make 2 bite attacks per round as a full attack action.

These small, sentient dolls contain a fragment of another creature’s soul. The binding process strips most of the individuality from the soul, making a new soulbound doll an almost blank slate. Despite this process, fragments of the original creature’s personality remain. Soulbound dolls can serve as companions, surrogate children, servants, guards, and sentries, as desired by their creators. Creators of soulbound dolls typically take care to take soul fragments from people whose personality traits the crafters wish to see in their dolls.

Caryatid columns are the lesser cousins of true golems, constructs created by spellcasters to guard objects or areas. Unlike true golems, caryatid columns cannot be made into shield guardians, but they are often used in greater numbers because of their relatively inexpensive creation cost. Each caryatid column is programmed to guard an object or area when created, and once set, this command cannot be changed. Caryatid columns are often given specific parameters concerning whom to ignore and whom to attack, but since they have no special form of detection, such restrictions can be overcome with disguises if the parameters are known. A caryatid column stands 7 feet tall and weighs 1,500 pounds. Caryatid columns are always equipped with a masterwork weapon that appears to be made out of stone as long as the construct remains in statue form. The weapon can be recovered after a caryatid column has been defeated. Arming a caryatid column with magical weapons is expensive but feasible—even the most powerful of magic weapons appear as nothing more than stone when held by a caryatid column. Since a weapon held in this manner does not radiate magic, many use this trait as a method to hide potent or powerful weapons from both casual observation and study via detect magic. True seeing reveals such disguised weapons for what they really are. Often, only particularly powerful caryatid columns (typically those with advanced Hit Dice, but rarely those made much larger than Medium size) are entrusted with the care and protection of such weapons. Of course, the constructs themselves make full use of any magic weapons they are given to guard.

Guardian scrolls are deceptive constructs created from enchanted paper or papyrus, designed to protect the lairs, libraries, and sacred texts of magical practitioners. When an intruder enters a proscribed area or touches a prohibited object without first speaking a password or otherwise signaling permission to enter, the guardian scroll attacks. At rest, guardian scrolls appear identical to any number of different types of magical or nonmagical scrolls. When a guardian scroll becomes active, it rises in the air and unfurls to a length of almost 4 feet. It wafts through the air with casual ease as it approaches its target. When it attacks, it stiffens its edges, making them blade-sharp. It races past its target and draws its entire length across any exposed flesh, leaving a long, deep, and painful slash that bleeds badly afterward. This is not the scroll’s only means of attack, however. It can also wrap itself around a Medium or smaller creature in the blink of an eye, constricting it. While the strength of its constriction is not as intense as that of a giant snake, the guardian scroll is intelligent enough to strategically wrap itself around the face of its target to blind and asphyxiate the creature.

Despite its sinister appearance, the snake-like necrophidius is not an undead creature. Rather, it is a magical construct built from the skeleton of a giant snake and then mounted with the skull of a humanoid creature. Fangs are cemented into the jaws of the skull, after which the entire creation can be brought to life by a series of obscure and expensive rituals—these rituals are traditionally well guarded by those who discover them. As a mindless construct that requires neither food nor sleep, a necrophidius makes an excellent guardian, and its innate stealth allows it to slip up on the unwary undetected. In certain areas, the necrophidius is commonly employed as an assassin, able to disable its quarries with its dance of death or paralyzing bite before disposing of them in a gruesome manner—as long as the assassination doesn’t require any particular intelligence to carry out. Particularly macabre creators might even construct the creature from the skull of a friend or loved one of the intended victim in order to magnify the horror of the assassination, leaving much of the flesh on the skull so the victim can recognize its source. This flesh rots eventually—only freshly crafted necrophidiuses have this grisly feature (although regular applications of gentle repose spells can keep such a morbid decoration fresh for a much longer period of time). Although a necrophidius is mindless, it can follow the simple commands of its creator. These can include commands to lie dormant until some specific condition is met or to follow and kill an indicated target to the exclusion of all other activities. A typical necrophidius is 10 feet long and weighs 200 pounds.

Animated scarecrows look just like mundane scarecrows until they come to life, at which point their eyes and mouths glow with fiery light. Scarecrows are usually created as guardians to warn away trespassers. Each scarecrow is unique, but most stand 5 to 6 feet tall and are made of wood, cloth, and rope. Their stuffing of dried grass or straw makes them vulnerable to fire. A scarecrow cannot speak, and the only sound it makes is the creaking of its wooden frame and the rustling of its straw stuffing when it moves. In combat, a scarecrow uses its fascinating gaze, then chooses the largest foe to pummel with its slams. Although unintelligent, the scarecrow does not ignore other enemies, using its fear touch to cow them until the scarecrow kills its first target. A scarecrow usually does not pursue fleeing foes unless specifically commanded to do so by its creator.

Graven guardians are human-sized constructs of clay, stone, wood, or similar materials, crafted and painted to resemble a deity or a deity’s favored servants. When not in motion, a graven guardian appears identical to a temple or crypt’s statue, but while active, graven guardians look extremely lifelike. Graven guardians are inexorably tied to a specific deity’s faith. While unintelligent and thus lacking any real personality, a graven guardian has the ability to recognize fellow worshipers or minions of its deity and does not treat them as enemies unless they first attack. This recognition does not extend so far as to allow these worshipers (or those cunningly disguised as worshipers) to give a graven guardian new orders. As with all constructs, a graven guardian follows only the orders of its creator.

GUARDIAN DOMAINS
Each graven guardian gains a special ability from two domains assigned during construction. Save DCs for these abilities are Wisdom-based (DC 14 for most guardians). Caster level for these abilities is equal to the graven guardian’s Hit Dice (CL 6th for most graven guardians).

A skinstitch is a crude construct made of cloth, leather, hides, and skins sewn together into a roughly ogre-like shape and stuffed with hay. Skinstitches are usually created by a spellcaster lacking the power, talent, or gold to craft a flesh golem. A skinstitch’s stuffing juts out of gaps in the sewing and the mouths and eye-holes of its component faces, giving it a horrifying, ragged look. Swarms of vermin and other creatures often find refuge within the straw, and the magic of this construct grants swarms nesting within its body amazing regenerative powers. Despite its appearance, a skinstitch is strong, tough, and agile, though its components make it susceptible to fire.

Named for their association with mages in the service of privateer crews and pirate lords, cutlass spiders serve their creators as enforcers, bodyguards, and occasionally assassins. They are 8 feet long and weigh 1,500 pounds.

A terra-cotta soldier is crafted from clay and fired into ceramic, and is usually sculpted to resemble an armored human soldier, although terra-cotta soldiers resembling other races, such as hobgoblins, tengus, or even demons and oni, are also common. Terra-cotta soldiers are often created to guard the tomb of powerful rulers, standing in silent ranks to guard their liege even after his or her death. These soldiers stand vigil for centuries, animating only to defend the tomb and its riches from tomb robbers. Terra-cotta soldiers are typically painted with colored lacquer, though this decoration is often worn away from use or faded with age. A terra-cotta soldier stands 6 feet tall and weighs 600 pounds. Unlike most constructs, a terra-cotta soldier carries within its form a spark of intelligence. This is hardly enough to grant the construct the ability to speak or otherwise engage in free will, but it is enough for it to carry out more complex tactics than most constructs are capable of.
It’s not unusual for a terra-cotta soldier to possess different feats or use different weapons. Two relatively common variants are summarized below.
Terra-Cotta Archer (+0 CR): Terra-cotta archers are simply terra-cotta soldiers outfitted with composite longbows. Terra-cotta archers have Improved Initiative, Point-Blank Shot, Precise Shot, and Weapon Focus (longbow) as feats.
Terra-Cotta Horseman (+1 CR): Some terra-cotta soldiers are crafted to resemble warriors mounted on terra-cotta horses, though rider and mount are one creature. Terra-cotta horsemen are Large terra-cotta soldiers with 10 racial Hit Dice and the trample and undersized weapons special abilities. Terra-cotta horsemen are usually outfitted with lances instead of swords, and have Improved Bull Rush, Improved Initiative, Improved Overrun, Power Attack, and Weapon Focus (lance) as feats.

A soulbound mannequin is a human-sized improvement on the soulbound doll. The binding process is sophisticated enough to leave much of the soul’s personality intact. Most are crafted to allow a faithful servant to remain with a prestigious family or to allow a dying loved one to remain among the living in a limited way. Because the mannequin’s face is expressionless and its voice has little inflection, it carries several masks that it uses to convey emotions. It often serves its creator as a bodyguard, companion, servant, sentry, or even paramour.

Tupilaqs are small constructs crafted out of whale bones and whale teeth for the sole purpose of murdering the creator’s enemies. A tupilaq’s appearance can vary based on its construction, but all have prominent jaws and a small body with hands and feet fit for swimming. A tupilaq usually stands 3 feet tall and weighs only 30 pounds. Tupilaqs must be created in secrecy—if any other person discovers the tupilaq is being created, the attempt to build the construct immediately fails. As part of its creation, the creator invites or lures a host spirit to possess the tupilaq. Most often, the animus of a tupilaq is that of a dead child or other small humanoid, and the parity of size between the new vessel and the spirit’s previous body is what gives the creature a speed and agility on land and in water that is atypical for most constructs. This trapped spirit is also what makes a tupilaq so savage and murderous.

These construct guardians appear to be looming statues of decapitated humanoids, their severed heads held aloft in a gruesome warning or cradled in their hands like a precious prize. To benign passersby, these marble constructs remain inert, their stone gazes producing only an unnerving sense of watchfulness. However, those who attempt to raid or desecrate a cephalophore’s holy site quickly find that the seemingly immovable statue is anything but. Consequently, many adventurers and tomb raiders have come to see cephalophores as good omens, for when one finds a cephalophore, a dangerous and treasure-filled ruin—hopefully still unlooted—is surely not far away. Each cephalophore was constructed to stand guard over a single location, typically a tomb or temple. The ravages of time do little to diminish the single-minded dedication of these creatures, but the sacred edifices to which they are bound seldom stand so firmly against the ages. Thus, cephalophores are often found amid ruins or deep in the wilderness, standing vigilant guard over a site long forgotten by mortal society. Many cephalophores lie buried beneath sandy dunes, overgrown by unchecked jungle foliage, or entombed within collapsed caverns. A typical cephalophore stands 10 to 15 feet tall and weighs 4,000 pounds. Cephalophores are made of solid marble, which makes attacking them with standard weaponry inefficient at best.

Cryptguards act as a first line of defense against the menace of the dead rising from their graves. Cryptguards stand ever-vigilant in tombs, graveyards, and sepulchers, ensuring that the bodies and souls of the departed do not return to unlife to menace the living.  Cryptguards stand over 7 feet tall and weigh approximately 1,000 pounds.

Known in some lands as furnace guards or iron gluttons, tophets have long served in the palaces and prisons of tyrants as vigilant sentinels and dreaded punishments. Appearing as rotund iron statues, often bearing the caricatured visages of past kings or dishonored nobles, these constructs all possess yawning maws, capable of easily gobbling up smaller creatures. Upon consuming a victim, the animate statue becomes a walking prison, holding its victim within with little chance for escape. The iron statue can then return its victim to the proper cell, the feet of its lord, or any other fate its creator determines. In the most feared case, tophets capture or are fed prisoners, then wander out into the desert heat or even rivers of molten rock, where their interiors attain hellish temperatures, torturing and often outright killing those trapped within. Tophets are often assembled in groups of up to a dozen, where cruel rulers incarcerate traitors and other criminals. Mindless creatures capable only of obeying their masters’ whims, these unthinking constructs make incorruptible guardians and are endlessly loyal. Tophets stand 10 feet tall and weigh 3,000 pounds.

Juggernauts protect locations dedicated to a particular faith, their massive forms infused with divine energy that animates them and infuses them with their deity’s power. Some faiths use a juggernaut as a mobile shrine, anointing it with sacred materials and offering prayers to the divine.

KEYED DOMAINS
A juggernaut gain special abilities from two domains granted by the deity to which the juggernaut is dedicated. If an ability requires a saving throw, the save DC is Wisdom-based (DC 19 for most juggernauts). The caster level is equal to the juggernaut’s Hit Dice (CL 15th for most juggernauts). The sample juggernaut is keyed to the domains of Death and War—a juggernaut dedicated to some other deity has abilities based on that deity’s domains.

Symbols of power but also of gluttony, taotiehs are guardian constructs formed of stone and built around a pocket of extradimensional space. Taotiehs are used to ward sacred or secluded areas from enemies and trespassers. Their semblance to tigers extends even to the animal’s abilities in combat, as taotiehs are feared for their vicious attacks. The extradimensional space at the core of a taotieh allows the construct to swallow opponents of its own size and then shunt its victims into an airless pocket of space inside. A creature capable of existing without air could well spend an eternity inside a taotieh if it couldn’t smash its way out or escape via plane-traversing magic, in which case it must wait for outside forces to slay its captor. Tales abound of great treasures and even greater dangers being unleashed upon a taotieh’s destruction.

A soulbound shell is the perfected version of a soulbound mannequin, allowing the soul to retain its spellcasting.

Kikituks are constructs created by wicked spellcasters.

A wickerman is a towering wicker statue with a cage in its chest. Inanimate ones are used for sacrifices to gods or nature faiths, and the constructs to terrify a faith’s enemies.

A sphinx colossus is an ancient relic carved by priests and god-kings to protect their secrets. A sphinx colossus stands roughly 60 feet tall and weighs about 220,000 pounds.

A flesh colossus consists of hundreds of corpses assembled into a macabre whole. Its stands roughly 60 feet tall and weighs about 150,000 pounds.

Standing 60 feet tall and weighing over 200 tons, a wood colossus can serve both as a guardian and as a manor.

Standing 70 feet tall and weighing 300 tons, a stone colossus is a walking fortress.

Standing 80 feet high and weighing 500 tons, iron colossi are the ultimate weapons of war.

Warmongers are the scourges of battlefields, unleashed by creators seeking decisive ends to large-scale conflicts.

The gods are no less strange and terrifying in death than in life. Though the death of any god is staggeringly rare, some do meet violent ends, often at the hands of other deities. When this happens, the deity’s death casts fragments of the god’s power out among the planes. These fragments are sometimes drawn to places where the god was worshiped in its life, where they can produce miraculous effects, such as striking the god’s devout followers deaf or blind, or granting visions of the god’s demise. Sometimes these shards of power go unnoticed and boil away into nothing over time. But sometimes, something far more terrible occurs—such fragments can find a new home within a graven image of the former deity, forming a new creature: a charnel god.  Regardless of the deceased god’s alignment or nature, all charnel gods are beings of sublime wickedness fueled by bitter anger. The memory of being killed and cast into the void leaves charnel gods utterly and cruelly insane. Further, they feel the pain of being incomplete, of being only a small portion of what they once were, and this torments them. Charnel gods have some memories of their time as gods, but any recollections are fragmented and muddled. A charnel god might be able to share a hidden secret it knew in its former life, but it could just as easily confuse the details or call forth a false memory, making it an unreliable source of wisdom. Charnel gods resent such questions anyway, as remembering their former lives only reminds them of their pitiful current state.  Those who believe encountering a charnel god will be a chance to reconnect with a deceased divine patron are in for a rude awakening. Without exception, charnel gods detest any who once worshiped them. Unable to come to terms with the fact that they were defeated, they blame the incompetence or faithlessness of their former worshipers for their deaths. Charnel gods also hate the servants of other deities, though with less fervor than they feel toward their own former followers. To a charnel god, all worshipers are false and deserve to be punished for their lack of loyalty and devotion.  At the same time, charnel gods long for mortals’ worship. Truly, that is a charnel god’s greatest wish—to once again be venerated, offered sacrifices, and loved and feared above all else in the world. Charnel gods cannot grant spells like a true deity, and so must rely on their own terrible powers and fearsome demeanor to cow and bully others into worshiping them. Their cults rarely last long, for the charnel god is an easily angered and fickle deity.  The example charnel god presented here was once a demon lord of the hunt who was slain by a vengeful goddess. When creating a charnel god of a different deity, GMs should replace some or all of the charnel god’s feats and skills to better support that deity’s favored weapon and fighting style. Likewise, the charnel god’s melee attacks should be altered as needed, but the end result should approximate the average damage a CR 23 creature might deal in a round. Note that charnel gods like the one detailed above can attack with their natural attacks as secondary attacks when attacking with ranged weapons.  A charnel god stands 15 feet tall and weighs 12 tons.