form of an advisor (or, back in the ancient world, a vizier).
Focused as they are on understanding what’s around them, the Deathless of the ren tend to do fairly well when interacting with the modern world—if they’ve had at least a brief opportunity to learn and adapt. If they haven’t, they tend to remain quiet, hoping to pass unnoticed until they’ve gotten a grasp on their surroundings. The Serpent-Headed believe that all challenges can be met by the proper application of knowledge and try to break down any problems facing them into manageable, solvable chunks.
They feel a bit of contempt for others who act on emotion or instinct, and feel shame when they themselves do so—
something that happens more often than they’d like.
The Kings of Senet are among the most driven of the decrees when fulfilling their purpose during the Descent, if they feel they truly understand the reason for their objective, or feel that following its course is likely to lead to greater understanding (of themselves, history, the nature of the Sothic Wheel, or what have you). If they don’t feel satisfied with their understanding, or see such opportunities, they become much more distractible. Few Serpent-Headed ever abandon or rebel against their purpose, but they may not devote their full attentions to it, choosing to spend at least some time pursuing other avenues of discovery.
Rite of Return: The need to understand the nature of their existence and the true purpose behind the Rite that created them continues to drive many of the Kings of Senet. They do not begrudge their service (save when they feel under-informed), instead seeing the path of the Descent as opportunity to further comprehend existence (all of it in general, their own in particular). Some, in fact, find comfort in knowing what their purpose is, why they were brought back, and rarely question further. Those rare Serpent-Headed who do rebel against the particular purpose for which they were raised, or against their Judge or Deathless nature in general, most likely do so for one of two reasons. Either the mummy has focused obsessively on making some discovery that she cannot accomplish while pursuing her more overt goal, or she’s already discovered some forbidden knowledge that turns her against her cult, her Judge, or Deathless existence. Their need to understand and to delve further into ancient stores of knowledge than others mean that the Deathless of the ren are among the most likely of the Arisen to truly lose themselves to madness.
Cult: Cults of the Serpent-Headed tend toward the moderate in size—larger than some, smaller than many. For the most part, those who seek knowledge and understanding are commonly drawn to mummies
who seek the same. Thus, these cults often tend toward the most scholastic, or consist of those who believe the Deathless at their core to be a font of otherworldly wisdom. Those who come to the Arisen through exploration or archaeology are more likely to be drawn to the Whisperers than to other decrees.
Vessels: The Serpent-Headed are zealous seekers of vessels as much for their historical significance or the opportunity to study them as for the power they hold.
They’re far freer than many others in allowing their mortal cultists to examine such items, as well. For obvious reasons, then, the Deathless of the ren can become among the most violent toward mummies who drain or destroy such vessels for what the Whisperers feel are insufficiently valid reasons.
Character Creation: It should come as no surprise at all that nearly all Serpent-Headed rely on mental skills above all others, particularly in various combinations of Academics, Investigation, Occult, and Science. As their social interactions tend to revolve around the understanding—and through understanding, control—of others, their focus in those areas often settles on Empathy, Intimidation, and Persuasion. While their Favored Attributes are Intelligence and Manipulation, Wits—that is, an eye for surrounding detail—and Resolve are almost as highly regarded.
Favored Attributes: Intelligence and Manipulation Defining Pillar: Ren (name)
Restoring Pillars: Those who declare the decree of Ren restore their Pillars through ever-growing understanding (and control) of the world around them and by solving problems via the application of knowledge. Learning the true nature of a person or thing, uncovering an unknown historical truth, or proving the superiority of the mind over the heart and the body (and of planning over instinct or improvisation) restores these Deathless. A Whisperer may regain one point of any Pillar at the end of a scene in which she accomplishes any of these.
If a King of Senet deliberately goes out of her way to learn extra information relevant to her current purpose, her Ren Pillar is restored in full. Note that this is extra information; it can neither be knowledge that she came across organically in her efforts, nor can it be any knowledge that she must have in order to complete said purpose. She may do this no more than once per chapter (game session).
Judges: Bastu, Kenemti, Khem-Inhu, Neb-Imkhu, Sekhiru, Tem-Sepu, Uatch-Rekhet, Unem-Besek, and Usekh-Nemtet.
95 Stereotypes
The Lion-Headed: Certainly the most forthright and direct among us; a shame they’re so foolish in their choices.
The Falcon-Headed: For them to see so clearly, yet do so little with what they learn, frustrates us beyond measure.
The Bull-Headed: To know your own essence is an admirable goal, but it’s hardly sufficient in and of itself.
The Jackal-Headed: Students of the worlds, as are we, but far too focused on their questions, not enough on the answers.
Decrees
The religion and method of the Arisen is well recorded across the pages of thousands of tablets, codices, and the dust-caked walls of long forgotten tombs. The esoteric and magical practices of the Deathless are by necessity formulaic and thorough, permitting a lineage of rebirths to recover the techniques necessary for them to conduct their brief periods of life in such a way that they embody the needs of both the soul and the cryptic agendas of the Judges to whom they are bound.
However, the historical record makes little mention of the subtle philosophies—the truly secret and forbidden thoughts and metaphysical transgressions of the ancient dead—as the dark reality of the Arisen condition would sit too heavily on the shoulders of even the most perseverant of mortal readers. The deeply nihilistic truths of the mummy’s fate are damnation in and of themselves. It is for this reason that the Jackal-Headed alone hold the torch that guides the Deathless through the blackest and longest portion of the eternal cycle.
Although warped by eons of conscious exploration of the spaces between Descents, those who pronounce the decree of shadow are, at their core, both mystics and philosophers, moved to illuminate the way for themselves and for their brothers.
As a result, their view tends to be one of profound and total resignation to the spiritual course provided by the blueprint inherent in the Rite of Return’s magic. It is no surprise that the children of this decree are often conservative, with a rather resigned sense of doom attached to their fervent adherence to their Judge’s will. For this reason, they are often placid when their companions are the most fearful and have sure footing in territory where most would not.
Nonetheless, their dark spiritual sensibilities and well-mannered insubordination of the most human agendas lead the Jackal-Headed into a place of emotional isolation created by their self-proclaimed mastery of movement between the worlds. Even when their stringent notions of their unspeakably ancient mystical code are not at the forefront, they tend to find themselves in opposition to companions who seem motivated by ego or notions of heroism. To the Arisen of the sheut (“shadow”), the emotional needs of the soul are of little value and naught but fleeting ripples of distraction upon the great, silent sea of death, all of which eventually fade as the wills of the Judges are served and order is restored. Certainly the brunt of this abrasive agenda
could be overcome by gentle lies and hiding the stark truths of the unliving condition, markedly improving the grim reputation of the Jackal-Headed among their kind. Unfortunately, they (and the Judges they serve) condemn anything bearing even a remote resemblance to true deception, preferring that their words sing with unblemished and painful truths rather than allow the asps of convolution to feed upon pure wisdom. Needless to say, this attitude of zero compromise when it comes to their spiritual tasks make them difficult to tolerate in times of stress and crisis, as they refuse to curtail their doomsaying for the sake of weak stomachs or delicate sensibilities. If one cannot accept the truths of the shadow while among the living, what integrity will endure when the great tides of the 1,000-year death fall in upon such a weak soul?
Nicknames: The Jackal-Headed (also Anpu’s Torch or Ferrymen)
Appearance: Although Ferrymen have a contemplative nature, the manner by which it is carried varies significantly.
The marks of the sheut are those of a deep and lasting weariness.
Those who have carried their burden with less severity may only bear worry lines and blink slowly as they move from task to task. In the case of more severe adherents, the marks of severe insomnia and sleep deprivation often manifest, especially while derangements are active, with shaking, black circles around the eyes, and a rattled disposition being the telltales of this decree.
Adaptation: Although avoided by many of their own kind, the Jackal-Headed grasp of mummy existence is firm and well informed. Having spent the vast majority of their mental efforts on the apprehension of the Judges and their design, they do well when surrounded by their cultists and fellow mummies. This is generally not so when they’re forced out into the world at large. Lacking much attachment to the conventions of the living, the Ferrymen do what they can by reducing everything to a philosophical puzzle or occult metaphor. When the Jackal-Headed elaborate on a mystical correspondence, it is not so much an informed interpretation of the world around them, but rather a conjured symbol that takes the place of compassion and attachment, serving as an ill-constructed raft while briefly among the living.
Of all the decrees, those who carry Anpu’s torch are the least prone to distraction when fulfilling their purpose during the Descent. Unlike adherents of the more bloody-minded and