Flesh Golem



"Soon my beloved Elsa will once more lie in my arms. After her untimely death, I have finally found a way for my love to rejoin me. Unfortunately, by the time I was able to recover her body from the priests, she had already begun to display the ravages of decay. I was only able to rescue her head and most of her lissome torso, but I have found replacements for what she lost. I have depleted my inheritance purchasing the alchemical unguents needed to treat her delicate skin, but I have stitched the parts together with loving care, and I can honestly say that her beauty is still as rare as when her cheeks yet bloomed with life. All that remains is to add the final spark that will return her to life. Tonight we shall be reunited!"

—Final entry in the journal of Dr. Septimus Thesiger

Towering monstrosities of stolen, necrotic body parts, flesh golems are neither alive, dead, nor undead. Instead, they are lifeless constructs, given a spark of lifelike mobility through the animating spirit of a bound elemental. Though weaker than their counterparts of clay, stone, and iron, flesh golems nevertheless possess a horror all their own, as they are composed of the mismatched limbs and pieces of multiple humanoid cadavers.

Utterly mindless, flesh golems have no independent thoughts or emotions and are completely beholden to their creators. While incapable of strategy or tactics, they prove tenacious, implacable foes, explicitly following the commands they are given. Flesh golems obey their last instructions until the task is completed, whether that be to attack, guard a room, or kill all creatures that enter. Only its creator’s command, or the golem’s total destruction, can stop it from fulfilling its orders.

But flesh golems have a shortcoming as well. Under the stress of combat, many types of golems can go on a berserk rampage, caused by the elemental spirit within the golem as it struggles against its bonds. In flesh golems, however, this berserk frenzy usually has another source. While the golem’s creation rituals firmly bind the elemental spirit in place, they have no such power over the angry spirits of the bodies used in the golem’s construction. Outraged over the misuse of their stolen flesh, these spirits can usurp control of the golem, sending it into an uncontrolled, destructive rage. Only when the spirits have vented their fury can the golem’s creator once more assert his command over the monster.

Rarely, flesh golems have been known to gain some measure of consciousness after going berserk. These exceptional specimens become gifted with a simple intelligence, and often rebel more purposefully against their masters. Such awakened golems are typically destroyed by their creators, but occasionally one escapes to make a life for itself, usually somewhere beyond the bounds of civilization.

Flesh golems are usually crafted by powerful wizards with the help of potent magics and rare alchemical or pseudoscientific processes, although the common methods are well known and instructions can easily be found in assorted texts, including magical golem manuals. Yet other varieties of flesh golems exist, usually of a more crude construction. Carrion golems are similar to the standard flesh golem, but are not limited to human corpses for their constituent parts. These patchwork horrors are often diseased, and their assortment of flesh makes carrion golems weaker than their larger cousins—though considerably easier and cheaper to construct as a result.

Stories from the deepest jungles also speak of more primitive flesh golems crafted by the witch doctors and shamans of savage tribes. The creation process often differs from the more generally accepted methods, and usually incorporates religious rituals and magic (and some say, dark sacrifices and long-forgotten rites). Such barbaric flesh golems are generally stronger, but have a higher chance of going berserk and turning against their masters.

Facets of Fear

Flesh golems can be viewed as a warning against unhindered progress, representing both the fear of magic gone amok and—especially in magical societies—of unchecked scientific discovery. There are some things that human beings were not meant to understand, such as the boundary between life and death, and tampering with such forbidden subjects treads on the domains of the gods themselves. And if magic or science can animate dead bodies without divine intervention and control them like puppets on a string, might they not also be able to do the same to a living, thinking person?

In another sense, flesh golems also reflect humans’ intolerance toward one another, for it is easier to fear and hate than to love and accept. People have a tendency to make anyone different from them an “other”—an object, not a person, something to be feared, hated, and reviled. Flesh golems represent this prejudiced and narrowminded part of ourselves, the little voice inside that whispers incessantly and cannot be ignored.

To a lesser extent, flesh golems also embody a fear of death, or more specifically what happens to a person’s remains after death, the dread that one’s deceased loved ones can be used to create something unnatural and horrid. And while other terrors of the night have their weaknesses—the undead can be repelled with holy symbols or even something as simple as garlic or running water, and silver can be used against werewolves—what can stand against the

Ecology

A typical flesh golem stands about 8 feet tall and weighs almost 500 pounds. Its skin has a sickly green or yellowish tint, like that of decaying flesh, and it is usually clothed in no more than a ragged pair of trousers. It carries no weapons and owns no other possessions. Incapable of human speech, flesh golems are only able to produce a hoarse roar from their lifeless mouths. They are prodigiously strong, but somewhat clumsy, moving in a jerky, stiff-jointed manner akin to a puppet.

Physically, awakened flesh golems look no different from their unintelligent brethren. They clothe themselves in whatever hodgepodge scraps they can scrounge, and may own battered, discarded weapons, as well as a handful of belongings that have some personal value only to them. No longer under another’s control, intelligent flesh golems move more easily and naturally, though they can never approach the grace of a living being. Unlike normal golems, intelligent flesh golems also have the ability to speak. Because they learn language through mimicry and self-teaching, however, their speech patterns are often childlike, but with a disturbing groaning quality, as if their voices are rusty from disuse.

As unliving constructs, flesh golems do not eat, breathe, or sleep. Their dead organs and other bodily systems no longer function, although their eyes are magically enhanced far beyond the human norm. Flesh golems are tireless, effortlessly able to stand perfectly still or labor continuously. They do not age or die, nor are they susceptible to poisons or diseases that afflict the living. Their dead flesh is alchemically preserved against decay and deterioration, and proves highly resistant to damage of any kind. Barring accident or misfortune, a flesh golem can exist indefinitely, ceasing to function only when its body is damaged beyond repair or suffers complete destruction.

Although flesh golems are unable to heal naturally, electricity can be used to repair their preserved bodies, even strengthening them for a short time if enough power is applied. Flesh golems are immune to most other magical spells, but they are somewhat susceptible to cold and fire. While such energies do no additional damage to a flesh golem, they do slow the creature temporarily.

Flesh golems are generally constructed of parts from no less than six human corpses, none of which can show signs of significant decay. Occasionally, parts from additional bodies may be required to complete construction. Once the pieces have been gathered, they are stitched and stapled together, creating the golem’s composite humanoid body. Because of the difficulty in replicating and connecting the tiny parts of the human body, flesh golems usually end up significantly larger than the typical humans they superficially represent. Once the body has been assembled, it is wrapped in special bindings and alchemical unguents are applied, followed by the casting of the required spells. A final application of electrical energy animates the golem and gives it the semblance of life.


Habitat & Society

As unintelligent constructs, flesh golems have no culture or society of their own, other than those physical trappings given to them by their creators. They can be found anywhere wizards and alchemists quest for power, from the jungles of the Mwangi Expanse to the frozen wastes of the Crown of the World. Flesh golems are often created as guards, whether at entrances to a wizard’s tower or in deep vaults to watch over a precious treasure. They can also be found sealed within ancient tombs to safeguard those interred there, animating only when grave robbers attempt to plunder the treasures buried within. Some powerful crime lords have even been known to use flesh golems as indisputably loyal enforcers and brute muscle that diligently follow orders without question.

Uncontrolled, berserk golems can be found anywhere, wandering aimlessly and without purpose, although usually far from civilization, where they would otherwise be hunted down and destroyed. Intelligent flesh golems, on the other hand, live solitary lives by nature and necessity. Faced with fear and prejudice if not outright hatred, awakened flesh golems are usually driven away from civilized areas. Nevertheless, humans fascinate the golems, and these unfortunate outcasts try to eke out what meager livings they can on the fringes of human society, lurking in crumbling tenements and slums, dank sewers, and isolated cabins or abandoned ruins, often providing fodder for local tales of terrible monsters.

Rumors persist, however, of a settlement of awakened golems that have banded together deep in the wilds. Led by an intelligent flesh golem known as the Thinker, this community welcomes golems of all makes who have achieved consciousness. Their goal is to create a civilization of their own, far from the frightened and intolerant meddling of human society, where awakened golems can learn to control their berserk rages and work together to build a unique golem culture. Still, most human nations that hear of this place continue to fear these uncontrolled golems, and would eradicate or try to control them for their own ends if the settlement’s location ever became known.

Spark of Consciousness

Through some unknown process, rare berserk golems have been known to spontaneously generate consciousness and intelligence, breaking free of their masters’ control and setting them far above their mindless counterparts. This can only occur if the golem has ever gone berserk.

The golem becomes an intelligent, sentient creature. Roll 3d6 for its new Intelligence and Charisma scores. The awakened golem immediately gains skill points equal to 2 + Int modifier (minimum 1) per Hit Die, as well as feats based on its Hit Dice. A golem has no class skills. The golem also gains the ability to speak the language of its creator and chooses any bonus languages from among those its creator speaks. While the golem retains its immunity to magic and most other construct traits, it loses its immunity to mindaffecting effects.

An awakened golem can advance like any other creature, even taking levels in character classes. An awakened golem has no favored classes. Though intelligent, an awakened golem may still be controlled by its creator, but it can attempt to break free of its master’s control with an opposed Charisma check.

An intelligent golem also has a higher chance of going berserk. An awakened golem has a cumulative 5% chance each round to go berserk during combat. The golem’s creator, if within 60 feet, can try to regain control of the awakened golem, which requires a successful Intimidate check, but the golem gets a Will save (DC equal to creator’s Intimidate result) to resist. It takes 1 minute of inactivity by the golem to reset the golem’s berserk chance to 0%.

Known Flesh Golems

The following are a few well-known monsters believed to be flesh golems.

The Beast of Lepidstadt: A terror stalks the mist-shrouded forests and fens of northwestern Ustalav, a monster held responsible for the deaths of several high-profile figures in the Palatinate of Vieland. First appearing 20 years ago in the city of Lepidstadt after a spate of grave robberies, the Beast of Lepidstadt (as it is called) is thought to be an unnatural creation made of the corpses of condemned criminals who died hanging from the city’s gallows. Although human in appearance, the Beast is said to have the strength of an ogre and be prone to murderous rages. There seems to be some purpose behind the Beast’s killings, however, as it has been known to ignore some people, and has even helped children in need on more than one occasion. Also known as the Dippelmere Horror, the creature hasn’t been seen in Lepidstadt since the Lampblack Murders 5 years ago, and is now believed to lurk among the strange stone monoliths of the Dippelmere swamp.



The Carcass-Man of Belkzen: Rumors from out of the Hold of Belkzen speak of a terrible f lesh golem created by a shaman of the Def iled Corpse tribe from the body parts of their slain human foes. This primitive monstrosity is said to be taller than a hill giant, towering over the orcs, with three powerful arms and two heads like an ettin. The Carcass-Man leads the tribe into battle, crushing the orcs’ enemies with a giant spiked tree-trunk club and ripping foes limb from limb with its mighty fists. Its effectiveness in battle has catapulted the Defiled Corpse to a position of strength among the warring orc tribes of Belkzen, but the monster frequently goes berserk in battle, tearing into both friendly and enemy combatants with mindless abandon. It is believed that the Defiled Corpse orcs cannot hold their position of power for long, as they are losing more warriors than they can easily replace due to the destructive rampages of their pet war machine.

The Red Guardians: Erszebet Lavenza is a woman long fascinated with the sciences of alchemy, biology, and galvanism. A gifted wizard and the newest member of Galt’s Revolutionary Council, her fascination became an obsession after studying at the golemworks of Oenopion in Nex. Having returned home to Galt, Erszebet took a position as surgeon at the Torvin Academy in Edme, now a notorious prison. Using the cadavers of condemned prisoners, Erszebet crafted a flesh golem which she brought before the Revolutionary Council. Impressed with the unshakable devotion and phenomenal strength of her first “Red Guardian,” the Council instructed her to create more golems for the Revolution. Citizen Goss hopes to eventually have a small army of f lesh golems at his command to enforce the Council’s will, protect him from the mob’s anger, and even replace the worrisomely independent Gray Gardeners as Galt’s loyal executioners. Thus far, Erszebet has completed three f lesh golems using the body parts of those executed by Edme’s guillotine, Razor Jenni, not realizing that using the victims of the final blade as components for her creations has had an unforeseen side effect—with the souls of the condemned trapped inside Razor Jenni, Erszebet’s golems have a much lower chance of going berserk than normal.