Wraiths are the restless souls of brutal murderers. They cannot find rest in death, and keep on tormenting the living, leaving behind a long trail of pain.
Pippin the Exorcist felt the need for a magic sword, so when they found a wraith they adjured it, controlled it, and bound it in their sword. The steel bearing and binding the murderous soul, mighty and hungry for life, yet too weak to overcome the bond. Powerful words tamed immortal cruelty into wearing a sharp yoke made by a mortal smith.
[The Exorcist is a new class I wrote for Knock 5, and you’ll find it in this blog soon. The Wraithblade has the offensive magic power of the wraith: +1 to hit as the wraith needs magic weapons to be hit, and drains life on a critical hit. You do you, but in my games life drains does not drains levels; it deals 1d6 damage to Constitution instead. You can recover 1d6 stat damage by quaffing a Balm of Restoration, purchasable for the paltry sum of 2000 gp. Important: for obvious reasons no sane Exorcist would let a bound Wraithblade create new wraiths.]
The exorcist went on adventures, and then retired, and handed his sword to Brom the Elf. Brom had particular misfortune, some reckless spellcasting laced his life with the life-force of an ogre, and sadly grew into something his family did not accept. This led to an unwholesome diet, then unwholesome habits, then eventually he singlehandedly slain an entire Troll Royal Family during a diplomatic banquet. He let the Wraithblade drink and drink and grow and grow. As the True Kings fell one after another, a moist black wave seeped from the blade up the sword arm, up into their eyes and nose and mouth, the power of the death of kings shared with the Elf Brom. Brom drank.
[Every time the Wraithblade kills something with a critical, due to the life drain or damage or both, the wraith gains a level. At level 8 the Wraithblade becomes +2, at level 12 +3, etc. Brom gained a level while killing the entire royal family but it was contingent on using the Wraithblade: this is tied to using a soul-draining sword to drink up the blood of kings until there is nothing left of the bloodline. The PCs were not invited to the banquet, they did a home invasion.]
Eventually the Wraithblade grew too powerful: Pepin the Exorcist had a big soul, but was no match for it. The dark soul possessed the Elf Brom, and manifested as a big, black darkness roiling. Wrapping the wielder like a waving shroud of night, the elf now reduced to a pale grey silhouette, the steel now in control of the arm and the soul.
[Eventually the Exorcist ran out of bound spirit HD budget. This is set at level x2 like for Clerics controlling undead. Brom needed a save against possession and rolled a natural 1. Whoopsies. Tail wags the dog now.]
The wraith wanted more death, and more death means more wraith minions; the Elf Brom, now a mere puppet in dark hands, unleashed fiery death on his comrades. He kept on fighting until his broken arm dropped the blade.
[Actually the very next round after Brom cast Fireball he lost initiative and promptly failed a save vs paralysis as he always does, succumbing to a timely single-target Hold Person from Morden the Cleric. Clovis the Fighter tried to disarm him but he would not let go, so he broke his forearm to loose the grip.]
The Wraithblade is now buried somewhere, waiting.















