Gentle Repose in Middle- and High-Magic Worlds

Previously: The World Behind the Spell: Gentle Repose

Gentle Repose in a Middle-Magic World

Ordinary people understand magic in broad strokes, even if they have seen little of it firsthand. Forestalling and eventually defying death is one of the most potent and tantalizing effects they can imagine. Access to this magic is the true dividing line between haves and have-nots, and among the powerful, negotiations over who may be granted Gentle Repose; for how long; and in preparation for what kind of resurrection, is at the heart of many complex political and religious divisions.

Cremation riots have erupted throughout the outlying settlements; commoners are refusing to burn their dead, as required by church law. The riots arose in the wake of rumors that the church used several rare diamonds to resurrect the heir of a neighboring kingdom after they died in a tragic fire. This diplomatic gesture went a long way toward relieving long-simmering tensions between the two nations, but that is little comfort to the average churchgoer, with no hope of such salvation. Most worrying for the church leadership, there are credible reports of an itinerant preacher in the outlying villages, casting Gentle Repose in St. Anca's name, dozens of times per day, promising to keep their loved ones suspended, and demanding the church assign future resurrections by lottery. It won't be long before the masses gather and march on the capital...

Gentle Repose in a High-Magic World

The effects of Gentle Repose are common knowledge, and available for a fee from clerics for loyal worshipers of their deity, or at a higher fee from wizards who also practice the spell. Both clerics and wizards maintain "houses of repose" for this purpose, where bodies lay dead but not dying. Depending on the clerical deity in question, or the ethics of the wizards involved, these houses can rapidly become exploitative for the loved ones of the deceased, who may be able to keep up on payments for Gentle Repose, but not ever afford the more powerful resurrection spell that Gentle Repose is ostensibly facilitating.

The plaza outside the Maestri House of Repose is among the busiest in the city. By the plaza fountain, a desperate woman begs for the last few silvers she needs to afford another casting of Gentle Repose; if she can find it, she will have another 10 days to repeat the process again, forever barely staving off a final goodbye to her husband. Two men descend the steps from the House of Response, the younger with a stunned expression on his face; when they married, they were only six months apart in age, but it took the survivor nearly 30 years to save for the resurrection spell that finally brought his husband back after an untimely accident. A famous performance artist strides across the plaza with their entourage and sponsors; they plan to kill themselves and lie in wait through thousands of castings of Gentle Repose, then serve as a living time capsule for people of an unknown future, relating stories of a bygone age.   

The World Behind the Spell: Gentle Repose

The average 5E player could be forgiven if they said they had never heard of Gentle Repose. Two paragraphs tucked between Geas and Giant Insect outline a spell with trivial component costs and a duration of 10 days. It has three effects; it protects a body from becoming undead, prevents decay, and extends the resurrection clock.

While this spell may be a footnote for adventurers, deployed only rarely as a bridge to a planned resurrection, it has far greater implications for game worlds in which it exists. 

Gentle Repose in a Low-Magic World

Spellcasters of any kind are a rarity, and live either in seclusion, or in positions of power and influence. Access to even simple second level spells might make a person a feared or envied arcanist in the eyes of a superstitious populace.

The queen has lain dead for weeks now, but there has been no funeral. Her court arch-witch has conducted strange rituals to keep her body pristine and her soul tethered to the mortal realm, but the magic to reunite them evades her. The arch-witch's inquisitors scour the country, seeking old magics powerful enough to bring the queen back. Rumor has it that the druids of the drumlins once cast such spells, but that their magic changed the affected body into some strange and different form. The kingdom swore off the ways of the fey a thousand years before. But something will have to give, because the queen's enemies are plotting to disrupt the rituals, despoil the body, and claim power for themselves...

Next: Gentle Repose in Middle- and High-Magic Worlds

Fantasy Government part 4: Leibgeber Leaders and Perfect Face Dancers

Previously: Elven Gene Queens and Gnomish Advisors

Creatures capable of some kind of shapeshifting can also interbreed with humans. The half-dragon entry in the Monster Manual suggests this is a practical form of procreation, and implies it could happen with other types of creatures that can shapeshift. Perhaps even well-established humanoids like elves and dwarves may have long-forgotten roots in shapeshifted interbreeding with humans?

Shapeshifters are naturally well-equipped to take over human civilizations; but the practice is not without risk. Most shapeshifters are inherently mercurial creatures, and their abilities are suited to short-term infiltration, deception, or exploitation. Shapeshifters who repeatedly assume the same form may start to identify too strongly with the assumed persona.

This phenomenon is common with doppelgangers. The Monster Manual presents doppelgangers as something like cuckoos, tricking other humanoids into raising their young. But what happens if they stay for longer, planning to manipulate and exploit the humans? 

Over time, they begin to think of themselves as more human than doppelganger. Interbreeding with humans leads to generations of offspring that have latent, weaker versions of doppelganger abilities (perhaps advantage on saving throws against charm effects instead of immunity, and a more limited form of Read Thoughts). Many relatively stable human dynasties are composed of the descendants of a doppelganger founder, whose legacy remains long after they are gone.

Fantasy Government, part 3: Elven Gene Queens and Gnomish Advisors

Previously: Weak Executive, Powerful Bureaucracy

In D&D 5E, the elven Fey Ancestry trait provides advantage against charm magic. And elves can pass this trait on to any half-elf children they produce with humans. This is highly desirable to small communities, as effects that inflict charm are one of the most common ways monsters and magic could undermine their community. So they would be eager to accept an elf who was willing to join them (either settling permanently, or just staying long enough to produce some children). 

And while elf-on-elf pregnancy is presumably pretty rare, based on their long lifespans, elves and humans could produce half-elves at a much faster rate. Because of their longevity, elves who settle in human communities would rise to positions of leadership, and the society would take on small elements of elven culture (filtered through "their" elf's preferences, of course). Ironically, many of these elves were probably outcasts or low-status individuals in their home societies, or they wouldn’t have left home in the first place.

Gnomes are less likely to settle exclusively with one group of humans, because there is no half-gnome benefit for offspring.¹ But gnomes are naturally resistant to mind-affecting magic, so they would be desirable participants in governance. Perhaps a gnome would move from community to community, taking on a residency-style advisory, arbitrative, or even investigative role.

Other humanoids could integrate in human societies for similar reasons (dwarves for resisting assassination by poison, tieflings and red dragonborn for dealing with fires, and so forth). But among the humanoids in the core rules, elves and gnomes would have the most significant roles in human societies, because the biggest threat to small and medium communities is charm effects and mind-affecting magic.

Next: Leibgeber Leaders and Perfect Face Dancers

1 Within the implied setting of the 5E core rulebooks, at least. My D&D game assumes that all sapient humanoids can produce offspring, either directly or with the help of magic. But most of those combinations don’t have mechanically defined “half-creatures” like half-elves or half-orcs; rules-wise, they would just fall into whichever category represents the majority of their lineage. If I had my druthers, I would toss half-orcs and half-elves entirely, as they raise more questions than they’re worth. But I typically allow them in the interest of offering a game with minimal deviations from D&D as presented in the core books.