Psychopomps

Petitioners are the souls of mortals brought to the Outer Planes after death in order to experience their ultimate punishment, reward, or fate. A petitioner retains fragments of its memories from life, and its appearance depends not only upon the shape it held in life but also upon the nature of the Outer Plane to which it has come.

The stark expanses of the Boneyard are the proving grounds for The Dead. While resembling animated skeletons, they are not truly undead but are in a liminal state, awaiting judgment or a greater purpose. This plane, under the watchful eye of the goddess Pharasma, is both an end and a beginning. For those souls who find a new calling, they might be elevated to become Psychopomps, eternal guardians and shepherds of souls, ensuring the eternal cycle of life, death, and rebirth remains unbroken.

Nosois eagerly fill the roles of clerks, scribes, and messengers in the Boneyard’s bureaucracy. They record the circumstances of each mortal’s death, any judgments for and against its soul, and its final destination among the Outer Planes. A noisoi looks like a songbird—usually a crow, sparrow, or whippoorwill—though it wears a funerary mask that accentuates its beak. Many nosois craft decorative artificial tails from grave goods and other decorations that trail behind them as they fly. A nosoi typically measures about 1 foot in length but is deceptively heavy, weighing between 10 and 15 pounds. It can use drawing and writing tools suitable for Small or Medium creatures without penalty. Nosois serve within the libraries and scriptoriums of the Boneyard, tirelessly scribbling away without rest. Being social creatures, they frequently chatter or sing with one another. A nosoi considers eating a rare treat, and sometimes shares the information it knows if given a suitable tasty bribe. A nosoi’s primary duties are to record happenings within the Boneyard, conduct souls to and from their appointed destinations, and carry messages from the Boneyard to agents in other planes. Most outsiders respect the couriers’ neutrality and allow them safe passage. Many also serve as assistants to more powerful psychopomps or even to mortals with particularly morbid concerns or important fates. Nosois take pride in knowing that their trivial tasks aid in keeping one of the multiverse’s most important systems functioning with general reliability. A true neutral spellcaster can gain a nosoi as a familiar at 7th level by taking the Improved Familiar feat. A nosoi familiar grants its master a +2 bonus on skill checks made to scribe scrolls. A nosoi immediately leaves the service of any master who creates or permanently becomes an undead.

Esoboks constitute a vicious predator caste of psychopomps. They patrol graveyards as feral hunters, hungry for undead flesh. As outsiders, esoboks don’t have to eat and draw no sustenance from this behavior, but the spark of undeath is a feast for their every sense, and they pursue and ravenously consume undead creatures at every opportunity.  Esoboks’ unruly nature and limited intelligence make them ideal border guards and “attack animals,” although their behavior can be alien and unsettling to those who expect them to display either more animalistic instincts or the sophisticated intellects of other psychopomps. These predators are never trusted to retrieve the souls of the fallen, but they are often called to the Material Plane to help contain outbreaks of undead—in such situations, their joy at the taste of undead flesh generally prevents them from attacking living targets, despite their lust for battle.  Some psychopomps (particularly vanths) have developed methods of training esoboks to realize greater potentials, allowing the creatures to tap into newfound reservoirs of magical ability. These trained esoboks have the advanced creature simple template and gain access to the following spell-like abilities, each usable once per day: ear-piercing scream, haunting mists, and teleport.  The typical esobok stands 3 feet tall at the shoulder, is nearly as wide, and weighs upward of 300 pounds.

Viduuses occupy the many libraries and scriptoriums of the Boneyard, where they catalog the comings and goings of extraordinary souls: their lives, deeds, deaths, and secrets. Existence holds many mysteries, and those mortals who had brushes with the extraordinary have their tales and confessions recorded by these semi-cocooned scholars and added to the volumes of the Boneyard’s expansive libraries. Although pretentious in the extreme, viduuses prove quite knowledgeable about many historical and planar secrets, and what they don’t know they generally have a decent idea of how to research, potentially summoning assistants from across the planes to aid them.

Catrinas welcome the dead into the afterlife, doing what they can to lessen the shock and terror experienced by mortals who haven’t accepted their own deaths or who still grieve for themselves. Eschewing the funereal themes and colors preferred by most other psychopomps, catrinas dress in festive shades, surrounding themselves with light and color to dispel a measure of death’s gloom. However, they don’t disguise their skeletal bodies, for despite any gilding they might put on the moment, they don’t seek to disguise the finality of death. A catrina’s motivation for easing the transition from life to death has more to do with making the soul’s progression calm than compassion for the soul—after all, screaming and outrage disrupts the processing of the dead. Catrinas rarely ever visit the Material Plane, but when they do so it’s typically at the command of a more powerful psychopomp or deity of death who seeks to ease the passing of a mortal of singular importance—such as a high-ranking priest of a death goddess. In such instances they serve as companions and ushers into the realm of the dead, not executioners. However, they’re capable of serving in both capacities, especially if misguided mortals try to keep them from their duty, using their deadly but painless kisses to end a life in an instant. Catrinas always appear as festively dressed skeletons—usually in women’s garb but sometimes in colorful men’s formal wear, and usually decorated with or carrying flowers. They do not have true genders, but an individual catrina may have a more masculine or feminine voice and personality. They typically stand between 5 and 6 feet tall and weigh about 20 to 30 pounds.

Stern, silent, and cloaked in ragged black wings, vanth psychopomps serve as stoic guardians of the Boneyard and watchers along the routes of the dead. A vanth looks like a black skeleton with ravenlike wings and a mask resembling a vulture’s skull. Also known as reapers, angels of death, or amzranei, vanths protect the departed from those wishing to eat or steal their mortal souls, recapture escaped souls trying to flee their assigned fates, and are death’s foot soldiers against whatever would disrupt the natural cycle of mortality. They may also guard the dead and death’s assets, such as forgotten cemeteries, unattended mausoleums, and sacred groves. A vanth weighs 400 pounds and stands 8 feet tall, though its slumped posture means it can look most adult humanoids in the eye. Vanths are ancient creatures, perhaps predating the current gods of death, and are rumored to be ascended souls of a distant world of death-worshiping soldiers. They rarely speak or show emotion and their hollow voices carry unnaturally far. A vanth’s scythe is a badge of its station, reflecting its role as a harvester of souls. It features symbols in a language that was already lost when the death gods claimed the Boneyard. Most outsiders scorn vanths, as the psychopomps have no concern for law, rightfulness, or personal gain— only duty. Vanths view any outsider visiting the Boneyard as a potential threat, and stalk angels and demons alike.

Shokis are the collectors of lingering souls, tasked with compelling even the most deluded beings to take the first step into the afterlife. Their tactics are varied, but most start by counseling the wayward dead using theosophical arguments and blunt warnings about the ravenous things that wait to feed upon lost spirits. Each shoki bears powerful tools to aid it in such pursuits—eclectic collections of holy symbols and withered staves of cold iron capable of imprisoning a single soul at a time. Shokis use their staves against only the most stubborn or demented souls, whom they capture and personally escort to the Boneyard for judgment.

Algeas protect (and in some cases retrieve) souls that are at risk of being claimed by other entities, particularly spellcasters who dabbled with otherworldly forces but never officially pledged their souls. Algeas are particularly focused on intervening and “rescuing” souls in danger of being trapped within the Material Plane by powerful entities like the Great Old Ones or false prophets who have deluded minions into worshiping them as living gods.

Morrignas are the Boneyard’s investigators, bounty hunters, and assassins, tracking down those who flout the natural cycle of death and judgment. They stand 7 to 8 feet tall and weigh 200 to 250 pounds. Many morrignas prefer to assume the appearances of those who have died. They ensure the smooth operation of death’s bureaucratic machine by eliminating complications, dedicating their existence to wiping out any forces that circumvent or corrupt the natural cycle of death and judgment.

Soldiers know memitims as the angels of death who protect fallen combatants and others who die as mass casualties from soul-hungry scavengers. While most memitims preside over massacres, their full wrath manifests against any who would cut numerous lives short in an unnatural pursuit of souls.

Crypt dragons patrol the Inner Planes, ever vigilant for transgressions against the honored dead or the passage of souls to the afterlife—be they the souls of heroes or villains.

Psychopomps embody the natural cycle of birth and death; while most psychopomps are focused mainly on the transition between death and the afterlife, olethroses focus on birth, death, and the fate of those hanging in the balance between them. Olethroses are among the Boneyard’s most powerful agents in the mortal world, and they work outside that plane’s normal hierarchy, answering to only the psychopomp ushers and the enigmatic goddess of death herself. They move among mortals in disguise, watching the strands of fate interweave and acting to promote their view of fate and stymie those who fight against fate’s flow. An olethros might appear in the guise of a wise midwife or a person’s former mentor, offering words of wisdom or advice that open up new possibilities.   Olethroses often see themselves as extraplanar rivals to the fey norns, though stories tell of at least one star-crossed romance between a norn and an olethros. Although inveterate meddlers themselves, olethroses can’t abide lipika aeons, disapproving of their manipulation of the cycle of life for some alien sense of karma. Occasionally, a shadow war of manipulation breaks out between an olethros and a lipika that can span lives, families, and even dynasties. Among psychopomps, morrignas look upon olethroses with respect and adulation, while nosois sometimes consider them bossy. Yamarajes respect their independence but sometimes requisition one to serve as an expert witness or an advocate during a particularly difficult judgment. Olethroses never refuse such a requisition, but most chafe at being assigned such tasks more than once in a long while.  While all psychopomps loathe undead, olethroses only incidentally spar with those abominable exceptions to the cycle. Instead, the focus of their enmity is upon sahkils. Olethroses sometimes use their plane shift ability to hunt their traitorous kin on the Ethereal Plane. While none know for sure precisely why olethroses fixate on sahkils, legends say that one of the first sahkil tormentors to rise was an olethros who went rogue.  Many psychopomps use manufactured weapons, such as scythes or staves, in their war against those who would endanger the flow of souls to the afterlife, but olethroses use strange weapons that function only for their kind. These are silkbows, ranged weapons built from diaphanous strands of cloth and silk that function as magical longbows.  While most psychopomps are forged from mortal souls in the Boneyard, olethroses are born from other olethroses via rarely occurring immaculate conception. Olethroses claim that new members of their kind are born when a new branch of fate forks off, and the newcomers are destined to study and nurture that branch and the lineages involved. Whatever the case, very few olethroses become pregnant in this way, but those who do grow enormously in power. Olethros mothers range in CR from 20 to 25. A few of the more powerful olethros mothers advance with levels in a spellcasting class (typically cleric), but most of them advance by gaining additional Hit Dice and unique powers over birth, fate, and death. Olethros mothers occasionally use weapons other than their usual bows, either because they have developed the ability to create a different sort of weapon or because they’ve acquired a particularly powerful weapon and augmented it with their own powers. Such olethros mothers trade away the silkbow and fateful arrows abilities for amazing abilities related to their new weapons.  Olethros mothers are much more likely to have subsequent daughters than an ordinary olethros is to have a first daughter, so olethros mothers are far less common than other olethroses. Each one develops her own distinct specialty, and in that area of expertise, even yamarajes defer to her; in fact, the most powerful olethros mothers serve as advisors and near peers of even the psychopomp ushers themselves.  A typical olethros stands only 5 feet tall and weighs 100 pounds. An olethros mother is much taller; it is not uncommon for such powerful psychopomps to be nearly 8 feet in height and weigh 250 pounds.

Feared as truly impartial and merciless harbingers of death, shinigamis are relentless in their pursuit of dispensing quick and just deaths upon those who would seek to disrupt the delicate balance of life. Unlike other, more sinister bringers of doom, shinigamis do not take pleasure in their work and do not seek to impose suffering—although there are exceptions. Some individuals, aptly described by their kin as “rogue shinigamis,” subscribe to either more merciful or more despicable forms of execution, and are either lawful good or lawful evil. Victims who have had their lives spared by kind shinigamis praise the angels of death for their clemency and willingness to listen to the victims’ plight, while other dastardly survivors have successfully cheated or bribed their way out of death by manipulating credulous or less honorable shinigami. A shinigami is 9 feet tall and weighs 130 pounds.

Equal parts regal and horrifying to mortal sensibilities, yamarajes preside as judges of death and dispensers of ultimate justice. Superstitions of the living call them by many names—the final judges, the grave magistrates, the dragons who eat men’s souls—but all agree that these nobles of death wither even the stoutest hearts. The grave magistrates glide with authority throughout the Boneyard, commanding flocks of lesser psychopomps, tolerating the ministrations of devils and angels bickering for souls of note, and ordering the endless procession of petitioners. Many also serve as diplomats or military commanders to maintain the Boneyard’s neutrality, but any such role is secondary to maintaining the flow of souls and the balance of the multiverse. Though in theory each yamaraj answers to the gods of death, in practice each is unquestioned within its own courtroom. Yamarajes vaguely resemble black dragons, though they are easily distinguished once one realizes the gigantic creatures are cloaked in feathers rather than scales. Each yamaraj measures at least 30 feet in length and weighs 4 tons. Despite their massive size and largely sedentary duties, yamarajes show astounding grace when they move. Impossibly old, yamarajes are outsiders forged from lesser psychopomps or the souls of legendary mortals. As with other outsiders, they need not eat, drink, or sleep to survive, and the grave magistrates normally remain perched upon the Boneyard’s ruins for months at a time, overseeing the smooth organization of their realm. Hard work wears at their immortal drive, and like living lords, they eagerly indulge in exquisite banquets during their infrequent personal time. These bacchanals make for strange bedfellows among outsiders, as solars and pit fiends may hobnob alongside one another, vying for the attention of a yamaraj to help organize the release of judged souls and attempting to win future favors. When called into physical action, all yamarajes can breathe raw decay in the form of clouds of carrion-eating insects, and their venom saps the youth and vitality from living creatures. Yamarajes serve as lower judges and lords of the Boneyard, directing the activities of other outsiders there, presiding over the dead, pre-sorting souls destined for ultimate judgment by the death gods, and seeing to the efficiency and safety of the plane’s infinite inhabitants. As the highest order of psychopomps, they are simultaneously the most dedicated to their role as shepherds of the dead and the most prone to impressing their own opinions on their work in the form of overturning precedents, rambling speeches, and extensive opinions attached to rulings. Such flexibility is necessary when making immortal decisions based on the ever-changing actions of the living, but frustrates more absolute outsiders to no end. Unsurprisingly, yamarajes tend to vary greatly from one individual to the next. Most develop deep interests in various worldly subjects that determine the sorts of mortals they ultimately choose to watch over. A given yamaraj might go out of its way to seek out artisans, followers of specific deities, or thieves, depending on its studies or whatever has come to interest it during that eon. Yamarajes might seek to guard such pet souls, ensuring their safe travels through the Boneyard, learning more from the souls as they journey together, and ultimately advocating that the death gods grant a more peaceful judgment. Others act in reverse, finding certain sorts of mortals truly disgusting, tormenting their souls through their procession to the goddess’s throne, and even suggesting that the spirits should face particularly monstrous damnations. How a yamaraj reacts to an individual thus proves unpredictable, depending on its changeable tastes. Such idiosyncrasies vary between individual yamarajes, and might change over the course of centuries. Just as many yamarajes become fascinated with souls possessing specif ic experiences or from certain backgrounds, some of the psychopomps go out of their way to judge beings from specif ic worlds, collecting bits of information and insight with every creature that passes them by. Thus, some become experts on one or multiple worlds, having spent eternities ferreting out the histories and secrets of worlds from firsthand accounts over millennia of inquiries. Many yamarajes welcome the opportunity to share the details of their investigations, though they sometimes see inquiries into their worlds of expertise as opportunities to conscript new allies to aid the psychopomps’ cause. Standing at the pinnacle of their race, yamarajes are well informed as to the challenges and goals of many subservient psychopomps, and might only negotiate with mortals who perform a service in aid of their underlings.