The Whispering Tyrant's page

Very civilized, Dread One. I anticipate the meeting. If they find me disagreeable, I will be certain to return their corpses to your kingdom so your garden will not be wanting.

If only all Hellknights were as considerate. Despite their vaunted "Lawful" nature, many are prone to littering and similar offenses against common decency.

That does raise a separate concern of mine, however: when did you take up an interest in gardening? The concern of one such as you for the condition of topsoil is obvious, but the interest in flowers seems peculiar.

This new hobby has its roots in a terrible tragedy, the unfortunate incident when Arazni was abducted by that polyester doubleknit-wearing sneak, the ghost Geb. After helping Arazni to find her inner "free spirit", I had invested long years of preparation to win her affections. As she lay there, entombed in Lastwall, I repeatedly sent her invitations to visit Gallowspire. She kept refusing, insisting that she had to "moulder her hair" or claiming her robes weren't properly decrepit yet. In retrospect, I should have sensed that she was playing hard-to-get. She soon departed with Geb, believing his hollow promises of a career in Chelaxian opera.

In the aftermath of this debacle, I summoned several so-called experts on "picking up" women, trying to prevent such embarrassments in the future. I was wise to do so: The tormented screams of their tortured spirits provided hours of diversion and provided my listless servants with a salutary example of the risks associated with giving bad advice.

In the brief moments between these alleged experts' horrified screams, one tenatively suggested that I should develop some sort of hobby that would impress women. Having read that women enjoy flowers, I sent for the most lethal blossoms imaginable.

I also had to admit that Gallowspire's decor was a bit gloomy. Acting on the desperately-offered advice of the last "expert", I had new wallpaper sent in from the realm of a little-known (but extremely flamboyant) demon lord. The change to my "little bachelor pad" has been quite dramatic: The last party of foolish adventurers to enter my halls screamed most amusingly as their eyes melted and my Abyssal potted fern digested their limbs.

This clearly proves that just because one is undead is no reason to become set in your ways. A few houseplants can really change a room.

When raising an army of undead do you start with zombies, skeletons or something a little more powerful?

When recruiting undead minions, many aspiring overlords make the rookie mistake of starting with skeletons or zombies. While such loyal minions have their advantages, it’s always wise to begin by recruiting whatever other undead may lurk nearby. That spares you the tedious process of convincing your mindless minions to follow your undead lieutenants.

Ghasts and wights make good sergeants for your undead horde: Not only are they formidable in battle, but their antics can be an amusing diversion on dull nights in the crypt.

Vampires are often recommended, but after discussing them on the lich overlord yahoo group, I’ve heard too many stories of them turning on their masters. It seems that some vampires will do anything for a nice piece of neck.

Lesser liches are always a good choice. Hang onto their phylactery, since as long as they know that you hold the key to their continued survival, they will serve you faithfully.

What is a "Dead Man's Party?" (Other than an Oingo Boingo song)

As any fool could have told you, a dead man’s party is a band of adventurers who have chosen to enter Gallowspire.

Please eat heartily before you report to my conservatory for mulching. My violets require more fertilizer.

First, a terrible threat walks the land, naming itself AM BARBARIAN. It believes itself stronger than any magic, stronger than Aroden, stronger than you even. How would you go about ending this threat and reclaiming your greatness?

Although lesser creatures may tremble in fear of the avatar of destruction who calls himself “AM BARBARIAN”, he is no match for the undying intellect of the Whispering Tyrant. My mighty intelligence instantly devised countermeasures for his every randomly violent impulse and primitive stratagem.

“AM BARBARIAN”, have you missed something lately? A little, fuzzy stuffed bear, perhaps? I assure you, your totem Teddy is quite safe as long as you remain far from Gallowspire. No harm will come to him.

Of course, should you trouble my minions’ contemplations, poor Teddy will discover the true might of my magicks. I would be forsce to transform Teddy into Demilich Teddy, a floating bear head of tattered fabric, its every sinister button hungering to drain the souls of the living, its fluff-filled interior instead stuffed with the malevolent desire to snuff out all life.

The choice is yours, AM BARBARIAN…

Second, do you recall the names and dwellings of your followers, cultists and other associates within Cheliax?

Despite my youthful charisma, Sir Hellknight, The Whispering Tyrant wasn't born yesterday.

On the other hand, I cannot ignore a courteous request. Some of my followers will call upon you when it is convenient for them. Your bones shall form a stylish support for the chill flames I use to illuminate my Mwangi violets.

Aspiring Agent of the Grave here.

Worship to which gods or goddesses would look best on an application for employment in the Way? Besides Urgathoa of course.

Many mortals carelessly neglect to plan for their undeath, leaving the time after their extinguishment up to chance and the whims of passing wraiths. Of course, nothing could be more foolish. To fully enjoy your recrudescence into the world of the undead, you should first build a solid spiritual foundation.

Of course, the worship of Urgothoa will always be popular, both for the social connections it allows and their affordable un-health insurance. This doesn’t mean that you should neglect the many other sinister beings of darkness that offer comparable benefits.

Groetus is a fine example. Although his cult has suffered recent declines in some areas, my divinations assure me that before the end times come, they’ll be going strong again. His cult’s striking “skull scythe” schtick shows a strong sense of design, even if it’s not particularly original.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse have been unfairly neglected lately. After their several-year stint as villains in apocalyptic fiction, they are overdue for resurgence. A thoughtful cultist could get in on the ground floor of a stylish new sect.

Some enjoy the whimsy of worshipping less sinister gods such as Sarenrae or Iomedae, banking on the ironic effect of a “holy warrior” (or mage) turning to darkness. While such melodramatic effects are not lost on me, I recommend they be reserved for cheap Taldan operas or Ulfen epic poetry. A moment’s reflection should reveal that the ancillary expenses of such a move (such as replacing drapes due to color clashes, redesigning the temple in one’s trap-filled lair, hiring new minions, and sending apologetic notes to request old friends not to drop by anymore) outweigh any benefits.

Ever dance with the devil in the pale moon light? And if so who led?

Unfortunately, the Whispering Way strictly prohibits dancing, both under lunar illumination and otherwise. Dancing generally requires music, a frivolous distraction when adherents of the Path of Undeath should instead be contemplating ways to wring every last drop of delicious life energy from the screaming souls of one's victims.

If I were to deign to dance with a devil, daemon, fiendish djinn, or other extraplanar horror, I would lead, of course. Few of them have my inimitable sense of style and rhythm.

Which is really better, cake or pie? And which one is cheesecake?

In the Gallowpire Grimoire, even the most foolish can easily decipher the half-forgotten glyphs proving that pie is superior in both taste and eldritch potential. Cheesecake has a crust, thus making it a pie. Crustless cheesecake is unworthy of contemplation.

My violets shall drink deep of your life-essence, growing vibrant and robust.

So how come you didn't name your tower Fred? That seems like a good name for a tower.

A worthy question. I chose Gallowspire because of dire eldritch significance forever attached to the name Freh'd.

Few living mortals have seen the accursed B'drochh Tablets, which describe rituals for summoning a being of primordial nightmare, a demigod of such horrific power even the undead tremble at the thought of conjuring it. The tablets describe this being's awesome power, its effortless ability to call forth towering primaeval beasts and bend them to its perverse will.

Even worse, dreaded Freh'd appears in the company of a capering minion, the freakish monstrosity Bahr'nee. Together, these ancient horrors form a destructive force equalled only by the spawn of Rovagug.

For long centuries have I peered down upon the squabbling mortals of surrounding lands, witnessing the follies and foibles of the living. I can stand it no longer!

Foolish mortal worms, cast your troubled queries unto the chill winds which blow ceaselessly past Gallowspire and the fell power of my necromancy shall draw them forth for my amusement. Those I deem worthy of an answer may be granted the boon of my ancient wisdom. Those who prove unworthy shall have the living essence drawn from their bones, then used to nourish my Abyss-spawned Mwangi violets.

Delay will not be tolerated! My violets' blooms wither!

I've recently become aware of an alarming play balance problem in the Carrion Crown Adventure Path. It seems that player characters have somehow been surviving the adventures. I can see the occasional low-level group slipping by, since everyone enjoys fanning the sparks of false hope in their little provincial hearts. Letting more powerful groups survive... that just reeks of negligence.

Please advise me about what you're doing to address this revolting state of affairs.

Examing the picture, I see that they didn't get my good side.

Of course, no one else has, either...

You must first find and destroy its phylactery if you expect it to remain dead. Of course, that may never happen, so the thread will come back more times than Vecna did when he got involved with Amway.

I am a Minkan demigoddess of all things feline and dislike my domain. I have been around for 3,631 years (and have looked like a Minkan child all this time too) and seek a promotion in the divine heirarchy. How do I get one?

I suggest that you broaden your portfolio by taking over unattended areas further outside mortal spheres. While cute kitten goddesses seldom get respect, cute UNDEAD kitten goddesses are much harder to underestimate. Find some sort of neglected undead, beef them up with feline fury, and teach the mortal realms a new kind of fear! When cute little kitty mummies swarm through the land, using unmannered mortals as scratching posts, the people come crawling, begging the forgiveness of the queen of dessicated kitties.

P.S.: I like the advantages of faking childhood, but I dislike the disadvantages. How do I get the good stuff without the bad?

Again, adopting an undead theme is just the ticket! Cute, juvenile, and disgustingly undead? That's a combo no one can ignore!

I thought Geb ran off with Arazni and made her his 'Harlot Queen'?

Why do you need to worry about anniversaries?

Ah, Geb and his wacky wife-swapping fantasies! Seriously, the man's mired in the disco era. No one says anything about his throne-room disco ball and gaudy sequined robes, but they go on and on about his alleged "Harlot-Queen".

Honestly, you can't believe everything you read in the Pathfinder Chronicles. You mortals are forgetting the time Geb claimed to have the dowager Empress of Taldor over for an orgiastic game of twister or the letters he keeps publishing under false names, sharing supposed romps with Tien schoolgirls and Ulfen trance priestesses.

"Harlot-Queen"? Really? Arazni stops by for a few hands of whist every few months, that's all. I'd better talk to her: She needs to stop putting up with this sort of behavior.

All these old people surprise me in that they even know how to use a computer.

Use a computer? That's what minions are for!

I'm tired of Chelaxian women. They're so... backstabby, if I say so myself (from experience of course). I want a girlfriend with a strong character and with whom to have good arguments that don't end in poison or slavery; I'd rather raise my voice and maybe get a bit more physical (take it as you may). Would a Shoanti girl be up to these standards?

Since the Shoanti appears to be occupied, allow me to advise you. My concubine and I have been together for what seems like most of recorded history, so I've dealt with similar issues a few times.

Your problem isn't where she's from, it's a failure to set firm boundaries in the relationship. If she understands that you'll murder her and transform her into an undead abomination at the slightest hint of disobedience, she'll be much more respectful.

After the relationship hits a few bumps, keeping that romantic flame alight will take planning. For example, if she stabs you in the back, it's nice to know that you've already put a special surprise in her morning tea. When she knows you're the sort who pays that extra attention to her, she'll take your concerns more seriously.

Stupid adventurers... why can't they understand the sign "Beware of the Lich"?

My "Free Biers" sign draws them right in, even if it takes unfair advantage of the adventurers' poor spelling skills.

Dear Ask a Shoanti,

Thank you for your invaluable advice. We had a wonderful party, full of life and energy. I indulged my artistic side, recruiting a troupe of vampire mimes to entertain our guests. By the time the party was finished, all of our guests were quite drained.

Unfortunately, our visitors now seem determined to stay. It was pleasant to have houseguests, but these people want to party all night, then lie around all day. They should have gone with the mimes, but I hadn't considered the difficulties involved in commanding other undead when one doesn't speak.

I tried to be tactful, casually incinerating a few of the squatters after they wrinkled the cover on one of my out-of-print Thassalonian fantasy adventure scrolls. Unfortunately, they didn't take the hint and just came back after they regenerated the next day.

I'm considering inviting a few more adventurers to thin this bunch out and perhaps convince them to move on, but that sounds suspiciously like what caused this problem in the first place.

Do you have any suggestions?

Dear Ask a Shoanti,

My concubine keeps complaining that we never go out anymore. I tried pointing out that I've been magically imprisoned within my tower, but she seemingly expects me to work miracles. You'd think that after all these centuries, she'd have a more realistic atitude.

To help resolve this issue, could you recommend a good marital counselor willing to make house calls?