Southeast Asia in Fantasy (or how PSYCHOPOMPS is about death)

In creating the setting of PSYCHOPOMPS, I began with thinking of the dead. When I imagine death, I recall thick yellow sheets blocking foreign eyes, void decks with white plastic chairs, the incense smoke and quiet chatter, and the taste of fried noodles, coming to us in bulk from a nearby hawker centre. I recall circling the coffin, the tiny window revealing wisps of mould and fungi that had begin to eat away at a week-old corpse. I sit there, in clothes that would be burnt with piles and piles of paper ingots. In this conception of death, all I could see was my culture and my home. This inspired the Southeast Asian setting of PSYCHOPOMPS, which fundamentally is of death.

Southeast Asia is a uniquely distinct aesthetic from the traditions of Tolkien and Lewis. Rather than rolling vistas and carpets of snow, it is a land of overgrown jungle, and a thick, humid heat that is broken by torrents of pelting rain. Monsoonal storms rage, transforming sun-baked earth into wet mud. It is cramped, a land of neighbours and rivals, all of which bear the cultural and historical marks of centuries of different colonisers. It is a patchwork land, melting together under the same ever-scorching sun. This mongrel aesthetic, a bastard amongst purebreds, is a key mark of a confluence of different influences. Being caught in between the West and East has led to a multi-faceted and at times, confused identity. An infinity of languages, pidgins, dialects and patois are spoken in the markets, stocked by the ships that rush in and out of ports. It is a land of many gods, and a necessary acceptance of this multiplicity. Trade and the availability of spices and commodities fuel its rapid growth and place in the world market. A landlocked region leads to insularity, a certain narrow-mindedness that comes with limited entry and exit. Access to the waters of the world means access to the entirety of the world.

This presents an interesting setting, one in which many different cultures and histories can be explored. Certain European media have been criticised for a lack of diversity and/or shoehorned diversity that is incongruous. This may be an unfortunate result of the relative homogeneity of certain cultures but also a moot point when we deal with the results of years of colonisation and cross-cultural pollination. The messy connections between neighbours, infinitely similar and different, create the perfect environment for conflict. The fundamental beauty of Southeast Asia is in its density, the cacophony of contrast and mild dissimilarity of an urban environment expanded to a region. We could compare this to Western Europe, where one might take a road trip and end up visiting two different countries within the day. Yet there is perhaps less of the familiarity between states, less of that shared cultural identity. As much as the British and French seem to revel in their rivalry, they are siblings born of the same family. Southeast Asia's individual countries behave more like cousins, raised apart in different environments. 

Returning to the topic of the dead, PSYCHOPOMPS's central conceit of the Resurrection is tied to the Southeast Asian fascination with death and its relative impermanency. Fundamental to the Buddhist and Hindu elements of religion is the transitionary state of death. Even more fascinating is perhaps the fact that we speak with the dead. The dead are not far away from us in Southeast Asia. Our ancestors remain fully aware of us and we are able to interact with them, via prayers, burnt offerings and curses. Some Indonesian tribes, like the Torajan, even go as far as to keep their dead mummified for years after they die, dressing and interacting with them as per normal. Monks are buried into statues or displayed in glass coffins to be given gifts and prayed to. PSYCHOPOMPS takes this to a fantastic extreme. What if they physically came back? What if  death was no longer final, merely a transitionary phase? What if we when we pray to the dead, they can physically answer?

Adding to it is the Buddhist concept of Samsara, the world and the cycle of life and death. This world is made of suffering and the cycle perpetuates this suffering. Stagnancy is thus significant, a sign of unwellness and unproductivity. Breaking the cycle is paramount, a means in which we can escape the repetition of society, the world and the self. This lent itself very well to the idea of the "punk" genre, centred around the opposition to structures and establishment. The cycle keeps everyone in their "rightful" place, distributing as a divine machination. Yet, if the mechanism is omnipotent but not omniscient, capable but not competent, then the only means of right is to rebel against the mechanism itself. Capitalism, discrimination, bureaucracy are all symptoms of this mechanism and the setting aims to discuss the opposition to this. PSYCHOPOMPS is the cyberpunk movie, with ghosts and swords rather than A.I and lasers.

The heavy, humid air that hangs almost solid in the midday sun, is perhaps the most apt representation of this stagnancy. 

The Exorcised Cities live, amidst the dead world

 The Exorcised Cities of Liurza are a complicated intersection of city, state, territory and gang. They are the last bastions of human civilisation, the final seeds from which humanity may bloom after the Shattering. Each of them represent a mortal tenacity, an ingenuity and innovation built upon a reckless clinging to life. There is tension, a byproduct of decades of isolation and a deep mistrust. Brutal landwars and realpolitik is at play, the Cities famously "unrivalled under the sun, except for one another". Yet, they cling to each other in trade, their impenetrable gates wide open for the rich merchants that travel the White Roads. These immense highways of white salt (and the cartloads of silver that ride on them) are the sole reason Liurza remains a united country. Only the City of Parakris, the Sky-piercing Blade of the Heavens, is truly separated, by mountain first, undead horde second and forest of knives third. 

Corphaksa:

The Divine Spider sits upon its crystalline web of ivory roads, its every move sending shockwaves and reverberations. Corphaksa is the First and Greatest amongst the Exorcised Cities, the centre of Liurzan sovereignty and the heartbeat of its trade. From its architects came the salt walls that make up much of Corphaksa proper, as well as the spanning White Roads that bring seafood from the east, iron from the north and trinkets from the south. It sits upon the lip of Lake Yan, deathly to the sip. Corphaksa is said to be the City of many gods, and indeed we see rows and rows of temples lining its curving streets. In this centre of commerce and trade, the guilds battle each other for corporate supremacy. Every piece of silver was traded for with blood and steel. The poor, the ambitious and the bored all flock to this city in the west, quite possibly humanity's largest and most prosperous. The grand architect of the revival of Liurza, the Heavenly Tyrant resides in Corphaksa. From this seat of power, he continues his machinations to revitalise the region, without care for the mortal costs.

Irysl:

Each hour of the day is heralded by the toll of the Divine Bell of Ruin. It rings throughout the city, destroying any monster within earshot. Irysl is divinely protected by a remnant of the past, an ancient relic that repels evil. It has tied its survival to this Bell, which has both allowed it to flourish as the centre for magical research and crippled it, unable to expand beyond the scope of the Bell's rings. It is thus a small city, dwarfed by the other of the Southern Twins in Wealn. Ask the scholarly exorcists that train in the academy and none of them can tell you which came first, Irysl or Wealn. There is a tense rivalry between these two neighbouring cities, as siblings are wont to quarrel. In its pristine shops, artifacts and equipment are abundant, courtesy of the scholars and artisans that flock to its academies and masters. The Master College for warlocks is built here, the final step for the land's most distinguished (or well-connected) students. You will see the effects of this meritocracy in the streets, as peasants memorise books while pulling rickshaws, aiming for a chance at a better life. Some might even succeed.

Parakris:

This City is lost to the rest of us. We will speak no longer of Parakris and the Hundred Year Siege.

Seicho-Ran:

The fragrance is the first thing that hits you as you approach the north-east. The Xiangsui or Fragrant Sleep grows abundant in the hills towards the tip of the continent. It covers the dark clay walls of Seicho-Ran and can only grow in the clay soil of the region. It lures the monsters to a daze, soothing their fires and calming them. The flower fields are littered with sleeping spirits, making careless travels extremely dangerous along the Scented Shores. The Ran of the city are cartographers and botanists, their study of the unique flora and forests have seen tremendous results. The city is tranquil and soothing and one might almost imagine it to have been untouched by the Shattering. Yet, observe carefully and one might notice the narcotised smiles of addicts lying on the streets, the green smiles of peasants as they choke down cheap herbs for nutrition and the disfigured smiles of common folk, after-effects of alchemy. The city is a rose, its thorns many and subtle. One comes for the drink, food and luxury and may never again leave.

Suido-Kath:

The wandering city of Suido-Kath haunts the coasts of Liurza. Built onto the back of a gargantuan monstrosity some worship as a god, it follows the creature's annual migratory cycle. The city is thus a centre for continent-wide commerce, connecting blue-iron blades from Tortoi to the enchanters of Irysl, the paper men of Wealn to the floral farms of Seicho-Ran. Visiting it is challenging and it is wise to have a schedule of the creature's movements. As the most culturally-diverse and rich of the cities, it is a cacophony of spice and slang, of gods and men. The city is frequently on the brink of collapse, with lower floors falling off the creature over time and they can only keep building up. Mariners and pirates take to this city, clinging to the sides of the creature like barnacles and feeder fish. The Central Bank of Souls, Maas, is located here where the sailors may place their soul jar securely for their journeys. The city is safe from the Drowned God due to its constant movement but some of the Drowned do present a danger to its people and infrastructure.

Tortoi:

The old capital to the North sits on Fang Bay, the site of first landing. The Fortress City of Tortoi is built under this ancient architecture, into the mines that have made it the centre of metallurgy and stone-working. A waterfall flows through the centre of this vertical city, the only other source of hydration besides the series of fermented beverages and alcohols created from the stacks of fungi farms. It is a hive of blue iron and stone, its pitch black walls lit only by the flames of the forge and ghostly lamps. As the premier location for industry and manufacturing, it is where one may find well-crafted blades and devices. Tread lower into the floors and one may encounter the horrors of the dark, the spirits that scramble and crawl in the depths of the earth.

Wealn:

Wealn is the other of the Southern Twins, half of the Exorcised Cities renowned for the creation of magical items and equipment. It is a land of the learned, authors and poets flock to its teeming streets and scholars stroll along its papered walls. As you enter, you will first notice these walls, thick stone but entirely caked in paper, with an infinity of strokes and dashes in an infinity of handwriting plastered over all of them. These talismans keep the dead at bay. Others are used for manual labour, tall oxen folded out of paper work dry fields and man-shaped slips of red hurriedly deliver themselves. In Wealn and Wealn alone, a certain type of wizard is tolerated, a practitioner of the arcane talismans and words of power. Rather than physical artifacts and wands of Irysl, Wealn puts its trust in knowledge and memory.

Session 0

I recently began a Dungeons and Dragons campaign using the PSYCHOPOMPS setting with several of my friends. While we have played prior to this, their grasp of the rules and general concepts of 5th edition is fraught and I felt it best that I supervised character creation. Furthermore, the nature of the setting I intended to use and the changes to the rules I would make meant that some degree of explanation was in order. So we arranged a Session 0 to get together and create characters, as well as establish a basic understanding of the world they are about to play in.

Firstly, when it came to establishing the world and giving them an idea of the kind of campaign I was to be running, I found that describing it using historical culture and time periods was the most useful. Especially since we were all Singaporean, it was a lot easier for them to imagine the sort of culture that would be commonplace in PSYCHOPOMPS. The early Twentieth Century was a little more difficult to picture and I had to place it in context for a little better understanding. As PSYCHOPOMPS draws a lot from several niche interests of mine, it was difficult for me to convey the tone and aesthetic of the setting without resorting to referencing these media and leaving them lost. We did eventually get to a common understanding which set the stage for character creation.

Character creation was done separately, using Zoom breakout rooms. This was an interview of sorts, a short discussion of the types of characters that they would ultimately be playing and me providing some advice on how to functionally implement it in the mechanics of the game.

DA wanted to create a stealth assassin damage-dealing character, perhaps drawing from his understanding of MOBAs and the specific team roles. He is one of the player that is most new to the game of Dungeons and Dragons so it was interesting to see how he viewed certain character archetypes and roles. He decided on an Asura Rogue in the end. (I'm actually quite shocked that there were as many of the party that wanted to play the custom races that I had devised. As one player had mentioned, "you can play a zombie, robot, bugman or human").

A is a returning player from my previous campaign and perhaps the most invested in the lore and history of their previous characters. I had mentioned earlier that their prior campaign was set in the same world, just a few centuries ago, way before the apocalypse. This meant that she wanted to create a character that had investigative abilities and could explore the world at large to see how it changed. She decided on a Ghoul Ranger. 

S is another returning player who might be the most experienced in the game, seeing as she had played in other campaigns as well. She was most excited to role play and mentioned wanting to play a Barbarian as she had been playing wizards all this time. She felt drawn to the Deva, particularly the specifically non biological physiology that would lead to roleplaying opportunities. She settled on a Deva Barbarian and specifically requested that it be a secret. (Unfortunately, during the very communal filling in of the character sheet I had accidentally let this secret slip. S if you ever read this, I'm really sorry).

DE comes from my previous campaign as well but is still a bit unfamiliar with the game in general. He came into this character discussion with a very strong concept however, and this allowed us a lot of fruitful characterisation. He specifically wanted a character that represented a certain type of asian parent, a disapproving father-in-law. He wanted to play a Bard and reflavour all its magical abilities as his minor manipulations and scoldings spurring the party to do better, basically making his version of the Bard a purely nonmagical motivational speaker. He also wanted to explore certain elements of nationality and citizenship, so he decided to play as a human who was born outside of Liurza and then raised within it. In the end. we finally settled on his Human Bard (whom I affectionately nicknamed "Gaslight Grandpa").

E came in late to the meeting and so I had to explain the setting to him privately. He was excited by the concept and was drawn to my drawing of the Deva. He asked about the needs of the group and I mentioned that they had all picked classes that were relatively easy to kill so another melee combatant would be great. To differentiate him from S, I suggested he play a Fighter, one that could wield guns in combat like the Terminator. He was very much agreeable to this and thus he decided on a Deva Fighter.

X had actually texted me before this session 0 with his character ideas so we did those beforehand. X was definitely the most knowledgeable of all my players and specifically was interested in optimising his character. He wanted to play a specific type of magic-user and we brainstormed for a bit before finally deciding. He was an interesting person to create a character with as he focused a lot on the mechanics of the game itself, so much of our discussion was based on characterisation and flavour. He settled on a Human Warlock and we finalised elements of his backstory on that same day.

We ended with character relationships and filling in the character sheets.

A few lessons I've learnt:

1- My player were much more willing to play the more monstrous races I had created which was a bit of a shock to me. They had been such a big fan of the Elves from standard DND that it seemed like they wouldn't have been interested in my less traditionally "pretty" races. I am quite grateful that they were willing to explore what I think are really interesting races.

2- There were fewer magic-users than I expected. Among a group of 6 players, only one wanted to play a magical class. This could have something to do with the fact that managing and choosing spells was a struggle for many of them in my previous campaign and the fact that only X, who studies dice probabilities and puts his spells in a spreadsheet, picked a magical character seems to confirm this. This works well for the gritty, horror setting that I had intended and the worries I had of magic breaking immersion and the setting are slightly lessened.

3- It was particularly frustrating to coordinate the process of mechanically creating 6 characters with people who had not refreshed themselves on the rules of the game. X was the only one I could trust to do it independent of my help and the rest of them definitely did not subvert my expectations. It will now be a policy at my table that all players must be familiar with the basics of the game, the standard terms and their character abilities. I was a bit disappointed, considering that I was only running 5e on their request and they had not even taken the effort to learn it.

4- Creating character relationships was a really fun exercise. An issue I had with the previous game was that the players started to have conflicts and issues with one another as their characters wanted to do drastically different things and had no incentives towards staying together as a party. This could be said to be an issue with the players involved but I felt that by doing this, we could mitigate some of those issues. Creating character relationships allowed all of them to start tangentially related and flesh out some elements of their backstory as a prompt. The party basically centers around two figures, A and DE's characters, with the rest a combination of stalkers and drinking acquaintances.

I am excited for our first session of actual play, where I can perhaps test the setting even more.

The blessed damned stalks the world, pity the Ghoul

The world is truly damned and death is all around. The divine mechanism is faulty but balance is still its sole purpose. Thus, the Ghouls are the most common type of sentient Resurrected, a blessing and a curse on the world. They are the altar cleaners and sin eaters, born to purify the dead. When man drops dead and his corpse is devoured, it will not rise again. They are the cycle's response to the restless dead and thus their suffering is as eternal as death itself. They are cursed with insatiable hunger for the flesh of man and food turns to dust in their mouths.

Artist's rendition of a hungry Ghoul

The Ghoul looks emaciated. From far, one may mistake them for an opium addict, helplessly gaunt. Their hollow, deep-set eyes don't help this, dark black sclera and pupils with golden irises. The combination of agelessness and endless starvation means that they are often withdrawn and moody; their diet of human flesh means that most people will never get a chance to find that out. On their blue-grey skin, most ghouls are heavily tattooed, lines and lines of names spanning their limbs and torso. It is a superstition and also penance, the Ghouls keep records of everyone they eat. It is in the act of eating where they especially horrify, their mouths open slightly too large and their teeth slightly too sharp. Most ghouls keep the bottoms of their faces covered with veils or muzzles to give some mild reassurance to the general public. They are viewed with suspicion and distrust, a necessary evil in society. They are the alternative that smaller villages turn to, as Grave Priests don't often travel to the most remote corners of Liurza.

No one likes seeing a Ghoul smile

Stories warn of Ghouls with kindly, plump faces and pink, unblemished skin.  Consider how many people would have to die to fatten a Ghoul to that extent, how much blood one has to drink to revitalised dead skin. The Unmarked are unrepentant, revelling in their status as a predator rather than scavenger. It is perhaps ironic that the Ghouls that most resemble a human are the most monstrous.

Saturn Devouring His Son by Goya

(The Ghouls is perhaps one of the more difficult races to adapt to 5th Edition DnD. You will have to use the Dhampir from the Gothic Lineages Unearthed Arcana but with some modifications. Remove Darkvision and Spider Climb. Then, the Ghoul gets Relentless Endurance [Half-Orc trait], Resistance to Necrotic Damage, as well as not needing to eat apart from one meal of human flesh a day.)

Hold your swords and spears, draw not the ire of the Asura

When you first see an Asura, what first strikes you is their commanding physique. They are long-limbed and powerfully-built, muscles rippling under translucent clay-brown skin. Upon their head is a mask of bone, which is shaped in the rough approximation of a  face, with a shock of thick, spiky hair. They speak calmly, with a smooth, deep cadence that echos in your bones. As any discussion with the Asura goes, it quickly becomes a heated debate, a battle of words and minds. Their "face" opens up into a vast maw of teeth and eyes as the asura gets progressively more impassioned. This bloom of fangs and flesh is the Asura's true face, the mask-like skeletal growth merely a keratinised growth of horn and scale in a roughly humanoid shape. These masks are often also shaped like animals or insects, and are unique identifiers of an Asura.

Mantis-head Asura

The Asura are are beings of passion and desire. They live life with a joie de vivre unlike any other, a product of a certain degree of impulsivity and trust in the sturdiness of their physiques. As mutable as their physical body, the Asura can be mercurial and erratic. Yet, this is tempered by an open-mindedness and willingness to experience new things. The Asura thrive in states of passion and conflict but fundamentally do not seek it with (much) malice. While they might delight in ridiculing a stubborn wizard in verbal warfare, for them any conflict is a chance to change, a chance to adapt. On first glance, they might be perceived as mere brutes but they have a passion for discovery and learning, and indeed many famed philosophers have been Asura. They are inclined towards chaos, repulsed by overtly restrictive laws and rules that restrict their freedoms and desires. Rather than evil, it is easier to call them self-possessed, wilful and unwilling to live as others would dictate. 

A brief sketch of the "blooming" of an Asura's face

Notably, they are also one of the few sentient Resurrected, usually arising from the deaths of great heroes or fighters. Most Asura currently living in Liurza originate from battlefield Resurrections, from the days of city-states and warlords. The Asura have formed a small (but vocal) minority in Liurza, successfully arguing for citizenship amongst the Exorcised Cities. They have integrated the best amongst human society, given their shared love for fine foods, fighting and alcohol. Famously, Yasa Vaisram founded the Epicures, an organisation devoted to the discovery of new and exciting cuisine.  

(For those wanting to play an Asura in DnD 5e, the Goliath is very easily reskinned into an Asura, simply by replacing Mountain Born's cold damage resistance to a resistance to poison).

Settle your souls, the Deva approaches

 The Deva are one of the mortal races, albeit ones that are shrouded in intense mystery. No one, including the Devas themselves, can remember what they were or where they came from. They fall to the human realm like comets, fiery and luminescent till they crash down into hard earth. They emerge as humanoid figures, wrapped in the cooled, cracked stone of their landing. They are stars imprisoned in rock and clay, roughly in the shape of an extremely tall human being. All they can recall is a single, distant sensation of lightness, unbearable to recollect under this new, weighty burden of a material body. Besides them, lies an immense shard of metal, perfectly shaped into a two-handed greatsword of significant width. 

Physically, the Deva share few similarities. This comes in part due to the very varied and individual manner in which they choose to decorate or shape their stone bodies. They are distinct from the masonry by the halo of magical flame that encircles their head, which also bleeds out of any cracks in the stone. The Deva's stone shell is both their armour and prison, presenting them a form of dysmorphia that causes immense discomfort and they alleviate this by altering them. The Deva often becomes a walking history, carved by the people they meet and shaped by the events of their lives. Most Deva have an instinct towards making themselves look and seem as human as possible, to blend in and assimilate, as much as a seven-foot living statue leaking fire may. They often reflect the culture and art of the place they reside, seeking artists and craftsman to recreate local beauty and style. Some Deva, chasing the ethereal memories that they can only catch the barest glimpses of, choose to reject humanity and the associated material baseness. They shape their forms into barely human physiques with alien geometries, denying any associations with man. They form a collective known as "Outsiders", believing that Devas are above the materiality of this realm and seeking to return to the now lost realm originally inhabited by the Deva.

The angels of Kill Six Billion Demons (The chokehold this webcomic has on me).

 Some theorise that the Deva were originally angels from the great heavens. This would explain the ethereal dreams of bright light and weightlessness that are characteristic of the Deva, as well as their inclination towards strict moral and behavioural codes. Others say that they are golems of a supreme wizard and realise halfway through their thought that it is exactly the same as the previous theory. It is true that in their initial state of amnesia, the Deva are susceptible to dishonesty or trickery, and are often seen as naive or robotic in their manner. The older Deva, well-versed in humanity, are far less gullible and punish attempts at manipulation with calculated violence. The Deva have trouble reading facial expressions and emotive language which makes them seem sociopathic and unsympathetic. Yet, they are often great champions of the poor and unfortunate, all of them inherently believing in the most basic of laws, that all men are equal and taking measures to ensure as such. 

Guts in Berserker Armour looks entirely the part.

(Playing the Deva in DnD 5e is as simple as giving the Warforged a halo of fire. The subraces can very easily be reskinned as different shells).

Two Stories about the Resurrection

 This city, built by men, sustained by their movements, creaks and groans under this vital transference of energy. It is a corpse, resurrected each day by work and the act of living. It is alive because we are alive, and it dies every day, during the little moment of stillness that happens when everything stops for just a moment. At this moment of the city-death, the silence I imagine lingers. The dead should be laid to rest. Resurrection is a terrible curse. It perpetuates work on a body unfit for work. It gives energy to a body that cannot hold it. I say this only because they finally exorcised my father today.

 I had called for the grave priest when my father first dropped dead. I tipped the sparrow boys, and they ran dutifully, bare feet on salted pavement. Most sparrow boys have thick soles after years of running, but the kid that ran my street was 10, a neophyte leaving bloody footprints on the barest hints of white salt that we had painstakingly scattered as best we could. He came back without one of the old men that hung around the local coffee shop, panting out the second of the three rules that were taught to every child that attends the compulsory five years of lessons: In the absence of a grave priest, burn and salt the body (or exorcise it yourself). Between the five streets that connect at the intersection next to the salt trader, we had about four spots to burn our loved ones. We had five, but all that remains of that barrel is the charred spot left when they removed it for maintenance three years ago. Most of us could barely afford the amount we pooled together for the salt necessary for the streets, let alone enough for one person to be purified. I knew that my donation was measly, but I was at least hoping for Uncle Jia, who would sometimes perform the funerary rites with half a silver piece, would think about it. He was the only one consistently drunk enough to attempt to halt the resurrection with just a sliver of silver. I had held out hope that I would be able to bury my father. I made the decision to risk the resurrection with thick ropes, and wooden stakes. We lived around the docks and could scrouge up these materials under the sympathetic unseeing of the dock workers, whom were often neighbours and childhood friends. I staked my father in the five organs and tied him up with the worn but salt-water-weathered ropes. He was a mild-mannered man, so we all knew his resurrection could be contained. 

The aunties that made up the invincible triumvirate ruling the five streets of the dockworker district, were unquestionable. They swept into the house when they heard the news and arranged and prepared the wake, all whilst chiding me for my ineptitude. While they had no training in the temple traditions, each of them was an encyclopaedia of traditional practices. Auntie Chin, for example, knew exactly how to banish a house spirit. The cleaver wrapped in blood-stained talismans she wore on her hip was a testament to that. She would be the one to exorcise my father when the resurrection came. She was born into the violence that erupted after the resurrections first began, the desperate attempts at fighting, or more realistically, escaping the spirits, demons and monsters that birthed from the corpses of the dead. When her brothers were enlisted into the ranks of grave priest initiates (dying in the trials as most of them do), she had to hunt minor spirits to harvest ghosts for a little cash. It was with that same viciousness that she cursed me out for not having enough rice in the house, in case of a hungry ghost. My father had not starved to death, but he had started skipping meals after he lost his job making ropes. The chance of him becoming a hungry ghost, while distant, had indeed been present. I had sold most of the belongings that were left, but my job as a salt miner paid little.

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The locals don’t talk about the black rain that falls during the thirteenth month. Everyone has a story about a great-uncle or third cousin that remarked with impunity about the drops of inky black, who were struck with terrible misfortune soon after. This superstition is ignored by what remains of a proud imperial guard, who coincidentally were subject to the most catastrophic decimation of a standing military force in history, oral and written. The county warlock assured that the rain was just water but given that he was eaten by a demon three days after, people err on the side of caution. So, as the Muo (or ink in Théan Trade Speech) pelts the salt-brick streets of Corphaksa, the locals wipe the liquid darkness off their faces, without once acknowledging that their faces are wet. This complex exploration of the ambiguity of the luck-bending attributes of the rain is lost on Rete, whose mastery of the topic extends to a vicious caning when he dared mention it as a child. It seemed funny, to him at least, that most of the stories involved the death of the offender at the hands of those nearby, fulfilling the promise of misfortune in a neat and gruesome little story to tell noisy children. 

Rete was sixteen and gainfully employed as a runner for the Grave Priests, colloquially known as a Sparrow. It paid decent money, but was full of terrible responsibility, which was why only the best of the best were selected. A crow had to be a fast runner, sharp of hearing and able to maintain perfect manners despite being out of breath and close to vomiting. He would run around the houses with just enough income to afford a real funeral, waiting for someone to die. When he heard the cries of despair and the wailing for a priest, he would quickly make himself known and have 34 minutes to run over to a temple and call a Grave Priest over. It was harder to start fires in the blackened metal barrels that were placed at every street corner when the rain poured like this, so business was booming. When the poor were unable to perform a salt and fire exorcism, they would have to find a way to afford a Grave Priest. Luckily, Uncle Chen offered a very reasonable loan for his grave rites, one that most could pay off within the second generation. It was this or risk vicious maiming, haunting and the occasional spree of abductions and murders. Every child knows, as soon as they’re old enough to speak, that the dead come back in 108 minutes, and they come back broken.

 Rete sprinted down Tobacco Lane, pushing past the lackadaisical Prince of the Road that governed that specific stretch of infrastructure. Prince Vatu, or the Smoky Sultan as he claims for his title, was an unimpressive man wearing the garments of a much larger man, whose shadow still lingers in Tobacco Lane. This is meant quite literally, as Vatu’s father’s death was the first instance where Rete had seen a resurrection. The attending crow had slipped on the slick pavements and broken his leg, which meant that the corpse was not exorcised in time. Luckily, Vatu’s father was as mild-mannered as his son, which meant that the resultant spirit of fire and shadow stalked the streets in a milquetoast manner, occasionally darkening the streetlamps or lightly singeing hair. The resurrection itself led to the destruction of three houses as well as two deaths, one of which was the crow that failed at his duty, as well as a tendency for Rete to wet the bed on bad nights. It also meant that Vatu was severely in debt, having incurred a hefty fine. He spends most of his time moping and whinging, surviving on the meagre stipend, which is all that’s left of the tax he collects after his monthly payments. From that experience Rete learned two things, namely that one/tenth of the total taxes paid by the cigarette peddlers in Tabacco Lane was enough to sustain a gloomy bachelor, and to wear spikes when running in the rain.

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Civilisation is Built on Men and Monsters

Owing to the Shattering, the many peoples of PSYCHOPOMPS are varied and widely so. The humans, being the original inhabitants of this realm, are the most prosperous and widespread. Yet, there exists a minority of other sentient and intelligent beings, refugees from other realms.

The Deva are shaped like tall men, statuesque in their stony forms. Within them, a miniature star burns, leaking through cracked stone in light and fire. They are morose and lawful, often believed to be gullible and mechanical in their behaviours.

Like this but seven-foot tall and mad at you.

The Asura have skin the reddish-orange tone of clay. This skin covers layers of thick muscle and hard bone, for the Asura were born to fight and to fight some more. They are tough and resilient, with thick mask of bone disguising their actual faces. In times of anger (or hunger), this relatively humanoid face opens up into a bloom of teeth and eyes.

Imagine if the Hollow from Bleach opens their masks up to reveal the Demogorgon's face.

The Ghouls are born from suffering. They form as a direct result to the stagnation of the broken wheel, altar cleaners and sin eaters. They have emaciated, greyish-blue skin and a too-wide mouth of teeth. They also have a taste for human flesh, an unfortunate consequence of being a Hungry Ghost. Yet they are valued in some small communities, as the dead consumed by the ghouls do not rise again.

This but less Emo.

The animal realm overlaps too much with the human realm, almost blending perfectly within it. As such, some humans are born with animalistic features, a product of imperfect reincarnation. Some see this as a positive trait, a gift from the wilds. Others view them as abominations and burn them with the dead.

Zhu Bajie always freaked me out.

These are the key minorities that populate the Exorcised Cities of Liurza. There may be others but they are hard to come across and rarely interact properly with human society.

Dungeons and Dragons 5e in PSYCHOPOMPS

The group of friends that I play with enjoy Dungeons and Dragons 5th Edition. This will be a short post dictating how to run PSYCHOPOMPs in 5e.

I'm not the biggest fan of the DND 5e art. It seems a bit too generic fantasy for my liking.

PSYCHOPOMPS is a homebrew setting, which means it is an independently created world, different from the default setting of The Forgotten Realms in DND 5e. Thus, it is perhaps important to focus on the key elements of PSYCHOPOMPS that differentiates it. 

1. A Haunted World

The Resurrection serves as a key part of the world, and its impacts are felt dearly and widely. Any mortal being that dies comes back as a monster in 108 minutes. The world lives in fear of death and much of society and culture revolves around managing and dealing with death. Spirits are everywhere, powering neon signs or haunting a public toilet. Sparrow boys run about the city, bringing news of recent deaths to the Grave Priests. Monsters roam the wilderness outside of cities and towns, making travel dangerous. 

2. Ghost-Power and Gunpowder

PSYCHOPOMPS is designed around Earth's late 19th century, a period that coincides with World War One. Thus, we begin to see more widespread adoption of the firearm, printing press and locomotive, all key inventions of the burgeoning industrial age. Anachronistic elements of technology are present, a product of access to (relatively) clean and renewable energy in the form of the ghosts. As such, it is not a rarity to see a man clad in full plate mail, riding on a Thunderbolt locomotive, cleaning his pistol and two swords. 

3. An Authoritarian World

To survive the apocalypse, the governments had to be hard and strong. They made the difficult choices to sustain humanity. Fast-forward to today, man has eked out his place in the world and the government now has to learn to rebuilt instead of merely survive. Authoritarian and strict rules are enforced heavily and institutional power is significant. You will not be one of the advantaged in this society. You are the downtrodden, fighting for your own place.

4.Capitalism Comes to All

Guilds and corporations have significant power in their access to spirits and ghosts. The streets are run by professional hooligans and thugs, the shops all sponsored by certain groups. You exist in a society that is defined by a lack of resources, which raises prices and thus the power of the guilds with it. In a world dictated by silver coin, a professional ghost hunter and treasure seeker is sure to succeed, provided they survive their adventures. You will not be flush with money. You are part of the people society seeks to keep poor and your job is to change that.

5. No More Western Medieval Society

PSYCHOPOMPS is set in a world inspired by South-East Asian culture and history, which means it will differ greatly from the faux medieval settings that inspire The Forgotten Realms. This means thick, steaming jungle instead wintery forests, avoiding heatstroke instead of frostbite, and dragons do not have wings. It will thus also follow more Asian values and social conventions and characters will act as such.

6. Magic is Illegal without A Certificate

Magic is most commonly derived from a pact with a great spirit, which is easily controlled and regulated by the government. Warlocks patrol the streets, graduates of the Occult Custodian Schools. Governmental scholarships and bonds ensure that the brightest, magical minds end up as salaried employees. Wizards and Sorcerers (as well as illegal Warlocks) keep their powers secret or have fake credentials. It is important that they avoid getting caught.

Onto more mechanical changes to the system, here are houserules I would include in running the game:

-Use the gritty realism rules for long/short rests. This makes the characters less invincible and more human which is important to the themes of this type of world. It also disincentivises immediate acts of violence and reckless use of weapons.

-For short rests, one can take the maximum of one hit dice rolled with each of the following: Fire, Food, Water and Shelter. If 3 of the 4 are missing, Players will start becoming Exhausted, which will take up a slot of Inventory each time until the player rests.

-To aid in this, we will be stealing the Supply mechanic from Into the Wyrd and Wild. 1 Gold = 1 Supply. 1 Supply is 1 day's worth of food, 1 day's worth of water or 1 day's worth of lamp oil and kindling.

-For your Inventory, you have the same number of Inventory Slots as your Strength score. Smaller items can stack into one Slot. Backpacks and other similar equipment can add Slots. Larger items may take up more slots.

-Death Saves are secret and rolled by the Dungeon Master. This creates tension and fear, as well as increasing the urgency to help one another.

-Reaction Rolls for monsters and other beings. Most intelligent creatures are not inclined towards wanton violence and this allows for communication. Exorcising a spirit does not necessarily require one to fight it and communication is a fantastic way of conflict resolution.

-On that same note, Morale will also be a mechanic. When enemies are sufficiently intimidated or defeated, they will start to desert or surrender.

-Inspiration is a shared pool, it is given for moments of strong character development/drama/conflict. The group is a community and its survival is contingent on each member contributing.

-You can defer choice of languages (or any similar type of information) and reveal your choice when you feel is useful. This avoids situations in which players make choices without knowing enough about the world to do so effectively and wasting that choice. 

-Weapon Durability and Repair will be a mechanic introduced as well. (Credit to https://stevestillstanding.com/2019/10/11/laidback-dm-weapon-and-armor-durability/)

Every time you roll a 1 (critical fumble) on an attack roll, your non-magical weapon takes damage. It loses -1 to attacks and damage. This stacks with further crit fumbles, up to a maximum of -3, after which the non-magical weapon breaks and can’t be used. 

Armor is treated a little differently: when an NPC or monster scores a 20 (critical hit), you as a player can decide whether you want to take the double damage or whether your non-magical armor is damaged with a -1 penalty to AC. This penalty stacks with successive crit hits up to a maximum of -3, after which the non-magical armor breaks and is unusable. 

 Damaged weapons and armor can be repaired by an armorer, weaponsmith or bowyer (depending on the weapon/armor) for half the original price of the weapon or armor. A PC can repair their own weapons and armor during down time if they have have the relevant background and tools (e.g. Guild Artisan or Clan Crafter Backgrounds with relevant area of expertise: armorer, bowyer, weaponsmith). They’ll need a forge if the weapon or armor is made of metal. The price for repairing their own weapons and armor is a quarter of the original cost of the item. No matter who repairs the item, it takes 1 day per -1 to fix (i.e. 3 days to fix -3 damaged weapon).

Human will be the default race in this setting. Most of the unique races for PSYCHOPOMPS can be created by reskinning and slightly editing the existing races available in DND 5e. For example, the Warforged are an excellent base for the Deva and the Goliath becomes the Asura with a simple aesthetic swap. Each modification will be shown on the individual races blog post below:

-The Asura

-The Deva

- The Ghoul

The fourth edition Warforged is almost perfect as a Deva. Just replace the metal with stone and add a halo of nuclear fire.

Every character inherently can speak Common, the Théan Empire's lingua franca and de facto language of the colonies and colonisers. For every 2 point of intelligence beyond 10, a character may select another language from the list below. One may also select a City-specific dialect of Common, which grants a +1 bonus to any interactions with that city's populace.

1.Old Theán is the parlance of the old continent. It is found in old legal texts and ruins.

2.Widdershins is the creole of the hoodlums of the streets. It is a complex system of wording which allows the speaker to convey hidden meaning in a Common conversation.

3.Sramic is the clean, simple speech spoken by the western folk of Sram. It has gained popularity as a technical language and is often used in blueprints and floor-plans.

4.Nalthese is the language of the icy wildlands of Naltha. The rich ores veins and ghosts that inhabit that land mean that it is a language most traders learn quickly.

5.Glais is the low, guttural speech of the Asura. It doubles as sailor and pirate lingo, as its bassy tones attract less Hollow Men.

6.Vadra is the pictorial script carved into the Deva upon embodiment. It is a rare and difficult language to translate verbally. Vadra has seen popularity in the artistic communities, where translations of Vadric plays have proven to be crowd-pleasers.

These serve as the key differentiating ideas of PSYCHOPOMPS that are important to note when running 5e in this world.