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[Egan_BW]

It has been eight centuries since the Fell Lord, Aieux, wrested all the great energies of undeath from the world and rose to his undeath. For eight centuries, the world feared him as a god, an immortal being who could appear anywhere with a host of dead soldiers, bent on conquering the world and being its king. Or failing that, to drag it into the abyss with him.
Until, that is, a band of brave heroes and adventurers, the Bright Junct, defeated the Fell Lord forever. After overcoming him body, they took his phylactery and cast it into Rending Light, releasing the undead energies contained within...

As for you, you know not of the Bright Junct or their deeds. You awake in a tight, dark space. Memories of your life and death swimming through your skull, if not your head. You may now be dead, but you never truly let go of life, never truly moved on.
And now, something has come to give you a second chance.

Spoiler: character sheet~ (click to show/hide)

Name: [What you were called, in life. Whether your name is still mourned or long forgotten, it is your choice if you will use your old name, or adopt a new title.]
Morphology: [Species, Race, and Sex. Anything works provided that it is organic, sapient, and leaves remains which fit into a grave.]
Age at Death: [How old you were when you died. May have some effect on your physical abilities and how you're perceived by others.]
Years Dead: [No more than 800 years have passed since your demise. If you died recently, some of the people you knew may still be alive. If you died long ago, you might hold knowledge forgotten by the living...]
Physical Description: [How you look, in your current state. A recent corpse might look almost the same as a living person, while an old one may be reduced to just a skeleton.]
Life and Death: [How you lived, and how you died. Who you were, what you did, who you loved, how you wound up buried in a small village's graveyard, and why you refused to pass from the world.]

Attributes: [General characteristics which can provide a small advantage in a wide set of circumstances. You have 3 attribute points to distribute as so: each attribute has a value of +0 to begin with, and it costs 1 point to raise to +1, or 4 points to raise to +2. Additionally attributes may be lowered to -1 to regain 1 attribute point, or lowered to -2 for 2 attribute points.]
   Determination: [Perhaps, all that keeps your body moving. You need not breath or eat, your heart does not beat, and you feel no pain. But should your purpose falter, you may become no more than another corpse.]
   Observation: [One's ability to perceive and make sense of the mundane world. Whether the subtle tic of a liar or the whistle of a flying javelin.]
   Influence: [The ability to change another's thinking and opinions to your favor, if only a little. Even things regarded as monsters can be bargained with, provided you know what they want.]
   Strength: [The force which you can exert using your body. Even the simpler merits can be useful; especially so if you're prone to getting in trouble.]
   Agility: [Bodily precision and, failing that, swiftness. Powerful, if carefully applied.]
   Manipulation: [Used (by the living, at least) to see and manipulate the magical energies of the world. While knowledge of arcane arts is necessary for a true show of power, this is enough for an awareness and vague shaping of magic. Though, your death may have changed some things in that regard...]

Skills: [Specific proficiencies which apply to fewer circumstances than Attributes, but can provide greater benefits. There is no definite list of skills, so come up with your own which you feel suit your character. You have 8 skill points to distribute as so: buying a skill which provides a +1 bonus costs 1 skill point, a +2 skill costs 3 points, a +3 skill costs 5 points, and a +4 skill costs 7 points. Skill points and attribute points are not the same thing, do not use them interchangeably.]

(Example skills: Polearms, Swords, Dodge, Bluff, Animal Handling, Monster Lore, Evocation, Conjuration, Weaving, Politics, Geography...)

Code: (Sample Sheet) [Select]

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Morphology:[/b]
[b]Age at Death:[/b]
[b]Years Dead:[/b]
[b]Physical Description:[/b]
[b]Life and Death:[/b]

[b]Attributes:[/b] 3pts
[b]Determination:[/b] +0
[b]Observation:[/b] +0
[b]Influence:[/b] +0
[b]Strength:[/b] +0
[b]Agility:[/b] +0
[b]Manipulation:[/b] +0

[b]Skills:[/b] 8pts
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*


Spoiler: Additional Information (click to show/hide)

Mechanics are thus:
Roll ye 3d6, modified by the sum of the relevant Attribute and the relevant Skill, if one exists. In particularly extenuating circumstances, an additional modifier may be applied, for good or ill.
A result of 10 or lesser is generally a failure, and a result of 11 or greater is generally a success. The greater the value, the more beneficial the result! The lesser the value, the graver the consequences...
Though, if the result should be a failure yet isn't low enough to warrant consequences, and the failure to succeed isn't much consequence in itself, the player may succeed regardless, so as not to dwell in dreary failure for overlong.
Excepting the dice, "do as thou deems appropriate" shall be the whole of the rules.

Overall, this story will be open-ended and up for the players to decide. There's no particular storyline that I have in mind, so it will be largely up to you to decide what to do and where to go.

If you have any questions about the setting, feel free to ask. If I don't have a definite answer to your question, I can likely give you permission to make up the answer yourself.

The number of players should be 5 or so. Not 'first come, first served'. Excess applications will be culled in accordance with what I find entertaining, and as such I would discourage characters with few interesting traits, ties to the world, or ties to each other.
Though, should there be a number of people who wish to participate who are unable, I may find a certain solution to allow them limited influence.

Finally, remember that it is superior to beg forgiveness, rather than ask permission.

Spoiler: Levelup information (click to show/hide)

(Completing a quest awards a levelup. Common quests give 1 Attribute point and 2 Skill points. Shorter quests can give less, while more involved ones can give more.)
(Attribute points and skill points can be saved or spent at any time. Attribute points and Skill points are separate and non-interchangeable.)
(Raising an Attribute costs one point to raise per level from -2 to +1. Raising from +1 to +2 costs 3 points. Attributes are capped at +2.)
(Gaining a new skill at level +1 costs 1 point. Each level thereafter costs 2 points. Skills are capped at +4.)
(Skills can also be gained and improved through training, learning, or experience.)

[ANGRY_DEMON_NOISES]

PTW

[NJW2000]

Spoiler: Henric (click to show/hide)

Name: Henric
Morphology: Large, heavily built, the kind of humanoid common in remote backwaters, places the religious authorities don't have the power or inclination for the periodic Hunts needed to remove, say, mildly gnomish or trollish lines from the gene pool.
Age at Death: Thirtyish. Nobody kept track.
Years Dead: Probably about five hundred.
Physical Description: A large, mouldering skeleton, many bones partially deteriorated to reveal cores of solid lead.
Life and Death: A month-old Henric was found one morning lying on the door of a mildly prosperous farmhouse. While this might sound romantic or mysterious, it was fairly common, this being the local way of dealing with a child one couldn't support. Uncouth as the practice might seem, it took a load off the shoulders of the poorest folk and guaranteed enough inbreeding to keep church officials just the right amount of busy. The fat, ruddy infant was welcomed, and fed on an unusually nutritious diet of goat's milk, table scraps and oven grease. He grew into a tall, strong young man, and spent his time carrying heavy objects from place to place and doing work generally reserved for oxen. It was a good life, and so long as he was given as many oats as any of the horses, he wasn't complaining.

Over time, the fertile lowlands the farm was built on flooded, and most of the workers moved away. Henric cared for his now rather decrepit adoptive parents, and maintained what was left of the farm, until the two of them died of some uninteresting penumonia. He walked out of the farmyard one last time as the final buildings collapsed into the peaty water, and strode away into the woods, living a quiet life, hunting and foraging from a small but clean shack.

He lived alone like this for many seasons, until one day he noticed streams of refugees crossing the forest, fleeing the Fell Lord Aieux and his dread legions. He didn't see any reason to leave, especially when the rabbit meat for random junk exchange rate was at such an all-time high. He soon learned from several concerned individuals that Aieux was an unpleasant creature, of the sort that arrived uninvited and posed some kind of threat. The only things of this sort that Henric had encountered were wolves, feral dogs and ill-equipped highwaymen. At the farm, dealing with these things was his responsibility, and had never posed a problem he couldn't solve with a few swings of a good solid length of wood. This line of reasoning was behind his decision to confront the Unliving God and his armies at dawn, alone and unarmoured.

The plan was a very simple one. It involved running at the Fell Lord, knocking him down with a wooden staff, and chopping his head off with an logging axe. The final parts were a little hazy, but they involved stomping on the head and maybe jumping up and down on it a bit.

Aieux filled his bones with molten lead.

His last thought, writhing on the ground in agony, was that magic is surprisingly useful, and it was a pity he never bothered to learn anything about it. Henric did not have many thoughts in his short life. The few thoughts he had, he tended to hold on to pretty firmly. This one was still in his head when he came back.

Attributes: 3pts
   Determination: +1
   Observation: +1
   Influence: -1
   Strength: +1
   Agility: +1
   Manipulation: +0

Skills: 8pts
   * Staff fighting: +2
   * Tracking: +1
   * Navigating the wilds: + 1
   * Guessing what tools do: +1
   * Woodcarving +1
   * Climbing +1

[WyrdByrd]

Spoiler: Tom Greenfield (click to show/hide)

Name: Tom Greenfield
Morphology: Human Male Guildsman
Age at Death: 25
Years Dead: 350
Physical Description:  A patchwork skeleton, held together by vines, ivy, and other flora. The bones look brittle to the touch, and every so often, a stray flake falls off one limb or another./b]
Life and Death:  Born to a modest Northport Guild family, Tom was expected to pursue a magical education like his siblings and forefathers before him. Lacking the patience for the House of Vision, and the pedigree for the House of Change, Tom  apprenticed at the House of Life. After graduation and a brief stint in the Northport Watch, Tom eventually joined the Lariat Expedition, an early attempt to reclaim the lands left devastated by Aieux's Blight. As a Journeyman, he would have been tasked with restoring the Fetid Swamp to its old fertile fields, and fending off  Blightkin incursions, being fully entitled to  the restored land, a farm, and tenants to work it. 

The Expedition proved disastrous. Logistics difficulties and  battles with the local trolls caused the force to founder before even reaching the swamp, and quickly alerted Aieux to this new incursion.  When Tom and his fellow Journeymen had finally limped their way to their cultivation site, the Dreadknights were there waiting for them. The entire force was overwhelmed, slaughtered, and then promptly reanimated,  walking warnings against defying the Fell Lord.  There they  remained for decades, until the Bright Junct had led their Blazing Vanguard in a Second Expedition. With the taint purged, and the remains (more or less) identified, the Journeymen were returned to the halls of their next of kin, whoever or wherever they may be. 
But the Fetid Swamp still lingers, and Tom intends to finish what he started.

Attributes:
   Determination:  +1
   Observation:  +1
   Influence: +1
   Strength:  -2
   Agility: -2
   Manipulation: +2

Skills: 8pts
   * Agriculture +2
   * Druidcraft+2
   * Animal Handling +1
   *Polearms +1
   *
   *
   *
   *

[TricMagic]

Spoiler: 666 (click to show/hide)

Name: Tiim[Ancient Scholar-Princess]
Morphology: Human White Girl
Age at Death: 6
Years Dead: 666
Physical Description: A perfectly preserved corpse, only close inspection would reveal their undeath.
Life and Death: Born the daughter of a great scholar-king, she held an interest in fire magic during her life. However she was killed during a rebellion during rebellion. As her father's soldiers turned on him and his scholars killed by the uneding hoard, he swore to have revenge, whether it took 6 years, or 6 millennia. The spell he cast was an old one, and details unknown were obscured. A last ditch effort that affected his daughter, imbuing her with that will. A person 6 years old, would come back to life 6 and 6 again, for such was the numerology of the spell and it's basis. Sadly, her father being 41 years old meant he didn't qualify.

Attributes: 0pts
   Determination: +0
   Observation: +0
   Influence: +1
   Strength: -2
   Agility: +0
   Manipulation: +2

Skills: 0pts
   *Ancient Fire Magic: +2[Knowledge of Ancient Fire Magic and the basic principles behind magic. Due to it's age, some of it has been lost, in no small part due to her father's kingdom being destroyed. As the daughter of a scholar-king, she has an advantage in learning new magic principles.]
   *Ancient Language: +1[A knowledge of a language lost to time, and no small amount of magical languages from before that as the daughter of a scholar-king who would have led the path out of the dark ages his people were in.]
   *Ancient Purpose: Father: +2[A Determination passed down by her Father's Curse, she will live and others shall die. Some of his political knowledge was passed down as basic skills in negotiation. Causes Insanity: Morals Lost, due to Curse of the Unending.]
   *Ancient Numerology: Curse of the Unending: +1[Grants an additional bonus to all skills for the Undead, based upon the Caster. Caster was a Scholar-King, as such knowledge has been added to the relevant skills. Undead will form in casting location's nearest graveyard {Age/Age/Age} years from casting, perfectly preserved for eternity.(Must be a multiple of 6)][/quote]
   *
   *
   *
   *

IN.

[syvarris]

Spoiler: Skele Snek (click to show/hide)

Name: Mrush'shalva
Morphology: Female Lamia (a person what is a giant fucking snake below the waist.)  (And also has four arms, why not?)
Age at Death: 22
Years Dead: 744
Physical Description: A fairly normal-looking human skeleton above the waist, albeit with claws, fangs that no longer carry venom, and a jaw capable of unhinging... which is rather unfortunate, as doing so separates her mandible entirely, requiring her to pick it back up and reattach it.  Below the waist, she has a seven-meter long snake skeleton trailing behind her, somehow still capable of slithering.  The rhythmic movements of her exposed ribs can be rather disturbing to watch.  Her human bones are quite fragile and worn due to age, but her snake bones are made of sterner stuff, still thick and strong.
Life and Death: Born into an isolated lamia tribe, which was unfortunately located in a desert near to Aieux's first fortress, Mrush'shalva had high hopes for her life which were dashed before they truly began.  She became an apprentice to the tribe's shaman at a very young age, and showed exceptional talent with the production of poisons and medications--though she had little interest in mysticism.  Mrush'shalva was not superstitious or religious, more interested in practical matters than spiritual or magical affairs.

She was rather quiet and disconnected from her community, preferring to keep to herself and practice her trade... until one day when she met a young magician traveling with a band of traders who exchanged supplies for rare concoctions the lamia tribe produced.  This magician had put on a minor show while visiting, small illusions of glittering lights and dancing flames, but it was unlike anything Mrush'shalva had seen before.  She was entranced by the show, and grew obsessed with both magic, and the young magician who molded it into such graceful and fascinating shapes.  She spent all the time she could around the traveler, a limited few days that she'd remember fondly for the rest of her life, but sadly they had to leave with the traders before she could state her feelings.  She had hoped to see the magician again the next year, when the traders returned, but unfortunately that had been the last journey the traders were willing to make--Aieux's growing influence made travel into the deeper desert a costly and dangerous ordeal.  Mrush'shalva understood this, Aieux was becoming a serious worry even for the lamia tribe, but refused to let it stop her.  If her love couldn't come to visit her again, she would simply have to go out into the world herself.

The night she had planned to leave, Aieux attacked.  Mrush'shalva managed to escape in the chaos, narrowly avoiding becoming a mere undead soldier in Aieux's growing army, but she couldn't avoid the lethal curses Aieux had cast during the attack.  Curses that sapped her will and poisoned her body, while beginning changes that would preserve her corpse for use as a soldier.  She passed away two days later, coiled up alone inside a shallow cave, terrified she would never see her love again, and that Aieux would hunt her down and find her.

Of course, Aieux did no such thing.  She was entirely forgotten by the monster, just as the magician had forgotten her just a year ago.  And with her entire tribe having been murdered and raised as undead tools, all memory of her slipped away from the world that night.

Attributes:
   Determination: +1
   Observation: -1
   Influence: -1
   Strength: +2
   Agility: +1
   Manipulation: -1

Skills:
   * Seduction: +2
   * Chemistry (production of poisons and medicines; not their application): +2
   * Weapon: Tail (constriction, slapping, etc): +1
   * Stealth: +1

[Whisperling]

PTW.

[Egan_BW]

I don't really understand your last two skills, Tric. Under what circumstances would your roll get the bonus from those skills? The last one looks more like a persistent magical effect that's been cast on you, rather than a skill.

[TricMagic]

Flavor.

Ancient Fire Magic and Ancient Language helps with learning new magic. Apart, it's fire magic and language.
Ancient Purpose: Father falls under Determination, when someone tries to reduce her motivation to live/kill. As well as basic negotiation.
Ancient Numerology: Curse of the Unending doesn't actually give roll boosts, but augments the other skills, which has already been reflected. It could be reflected as giving a bonus against exorcism though. It being a magical effect is what I was going for.(And I had the extra point, so tying in a backstory element.)

[Knightwing64]

Name: Logan Nightingale
Morphology: Artificial Primordial Vampire (Primordial vampires are the Ancestors of all other vampires.)
Age at Death: 7800 Years old
Years Dead: 800
Physical Description: A young man with blood red eyes and inky black hair, He has short fangs coming out of his mouth and seems to radiate power and bloodlust. He is wearing a tuxedo and had no heartbeat and was deathly pale. The only sign he was even dead was the fact he was in a graveyard.
Life and Death: A great and powerful sorcerer was experimenting with the heart of a powerful vampire he had found and was trying to create a powerful slave that was completely obedient using a creation ritual.
Everything was going well and the sorcerer had become arrogant and foolish and made a mistake in the casting of the spell, The sorcerer was absorbed into the heart and the spell had created a powerful vampire using the heart of a vampire and the body of a sorcerer. When Logan came into existence he was extremely confused and a town that was close to where the wizard lived had taken him in due to him having nowhere to go. However Logan could not suppress his vampire instincts and went rapid killing all of the town, Logan became insane due to killing a entire town and his life after that consisted of kill, blood and magic. Due to having to kill so many people to feed, A powerful hero killed Logan and put his body into a common grave. Logan’s spirit was furious! He could not believe the audacity of that hero! Thoughts of such hatred kept Logan’s spirit alive due to extremely strong emotions and a lack of wanting to die.
Attributes:
Determination: +1
Observation: -1
Influence: +1
Strength : -2
Agility: +0
Manipulation: +2
Skills:
Blood Magic: +3, The Ancient art of manipulating blood and bone, Masters of this art are able to give a person a heart attack with a mere thought and boil their blood at the same time, A particular evil use of this magic is its ability to make other people’s bodys turn on them by manipulating their cells and flesh to make them like a puppet. It however only works on the physical body and can’t control the persons mind. Also particularly strong willed people are able to break out of this manipulation.
Mind Magic: +2, The magic of the mind, It gives a experienced enough practitioner the Ablilty to read minds and plant suggestions in the heads of others. However it is very exhausting to use this magic so don’t expect to be using this all the time, Because that’s a good way to die of exhaustion.


Hopefully I will be able to get in. Fingers crossed.

[Devastator]

Spoiler: Bird (click to show/hide)

Name: <Caw>.  Goes by Moldbin.  Or just Bird.
Morphology: Undead male crow.
Age at Death: 10
Years Dead: 0
Physical Description: A large, fit, black-coloured crow in the prime of undead life.
Life and Death:  Moldbin had a full life as a carrion eater, always busy during the last years of Aieux's existance, with the plentiful supply of corpses caused by the movements of various armies and adventurers.  Was killed by stray energies from one of the many small skirmishes between various unknown humans.

Was quite surprised to find out that there was an afterlife, and it was this one.  Moldbin is pleased and eager to get a second go around, as he very much enjoyed his first life.

Attributes:
   Determination: +1
   Observation: +1
   Influence: +0
   Strength: +0
   Agility: +1
   Manipulation: +0

Skills:
   Semblance of Life, +1.  Moldbin outwardly appears as a very large and healthy crow.  Perhaps a bit too much of each.  Although he has the benefits of undeath, in that he doesn't need to eat, sleep, drink, etcetera, his determination causes his body to simulate life, even to the point of healing.  A close examination is required to determine that he is in fact, dead.  Helps him hide and pass off as a living creature.

   Mind over Matter, +1.  Similar to his false life, his determination allows him to actively repair any damage his body does take, even including permanent injuries such as missing limbs.

   Weapon Use: Bird, +1.  Skilled at fighting as a bird does.
   Literate, +1.  Undeath has been good to the crow, and it seems to have sharpened the normal bird intellect into one that would be envied by many people.  Skilled at reading and writing.
   Curiosity, +1.  Skilled at finding strange things and guessing at their purposes.
   Geography, +1.  Knows the local area well, having died only recently.
   Animal Empathy, +1.  Knows how to get along with nonhuman animals.
   Mind Eater, +1.  Can gain knowledge by consuming thinking organs of deceased creatures.  Usually just basic knowledge, but could perhaps gain more from strange and powerful beings.

[Egan_BW]

The year is 1005, late autumn. Less than a decade ago, people celebrated the pass of the new millennium. Those who cared, at least.
In this era, life is tough for many. The threat of undead attack has only slowly risen over the past eight centuries, as the Fell Lord grew more powerful. In this time, fear and violence has caused the loss of many technologies both mundane and magical.
Perhaps, once word of the Fell Lord's defeat spreads, many will take time to celebrate the end of an era of darkness.

But for many more, things will get worse before they get better. Already, energies once chained and sworn to the Fell Lord's cause are wild and free.


Well over six hundred years ago, in the fourth century, there was once a mighty empire. And its capital was here, Aldam City. Although now only ruins of the city remains, and this place is now but a small village, the graveyard is far older than the surrounding village.
The Aldam Empire fell in 339. Revolutionaries who protested at the royal way of life, who believed that the ruling class's study of magic had brought them further from the gods, overpowered the state and instituted their own theocracy. When the old king saw them breaking into his palace, in desperation he poisoned and cursed himself and his family.

Found dead, the royal family were unceremoniously buried in a mass grave along with many others. There, their corpses slowly rotted away to nothing, all except Tiim.
She awakes now, in the dark earth. For her, it feels as though no time has passed at all. Some residual force of the curse rips her upwards, out of the ground, where she meets the world...


The same day that Tiim died, those Aldamian revolutionaries raided many other buildings, including a museum holding a strange, unique skeleton. Perhaps the only reminder of the existence of Lamia in the entire world, in the form of a magically preserved skeleton. While in earlier times many such skeletons were fought and destroyed in fights against Aieux, this one was found simply inert.
The revolutionaries, disgusted that the remains were grotesquely displayed in a public place, stole the skeleton and laid it to rest, hoping that it would help the Lamia's soul move on.

But it didn't. It still remains, trapped. She had died alone and in pain, the last of her kind. In a prior era, she would have risen and become a vengeful revenant soon after dying. But instead, she was simply trapped, asleep in her own corpse, to await her time.
Mrush'shalva wakes up, as if from an unimaginably long sleep. She feels the earth, pushing down on her from every direction. Fearing suffocation, she pushes upwards, uncoiling her tail and breaking out into the cool air. Every one of her bones feels freezing, unbearably cold.


To be continued...

[Egan_BW]

At the time of Henric's death, around the beginning of the sixth century, the theocratic government founded in the ashes of Aldam were still around. They called themselves the Rightful Authority, though barely anybody else did, as the people resented their overzealousness.
In those times, the Fell Lord was growing stronger, but the extent of his power wasn't known by most. Unprepared, the Rightful Authority was swiftly dismembered by his attacks, leaving only scattered, independent kingdoms.
It was around this time that a new religion was founded, Lightism, worshipping Mar, the god of destruction, as a savior. Though in the eyes of the ancients Mar was a force to be feared and hated, this new religion spread quickly on account of the fact that the undead are weak to Mar's Rending Light.

…Little of this is important to Henric's story, however. It could be said that he never came within a hundred miles of history, for he didn't care to pursue great deeds or be remembered after his death. In fact, one reading this story might be confused as to why he felt the need to return as an undead. Perhaps the idea of moving on simply hadn't occurred to him.
He climbs now out of the earth. The lid of his coffin wasn't enough to stop him, and he didn't particularly want to stay in it, after all.


Tom Greenfield was born to a period of surprising stability in the seventh century, under the Kingdom of Ryere, which still stands to this day. Sure, the Fell Lord was by then already at the peak of his power, but by then fighting his armies had become simply another inevitable fact of life, just the same as rainstorms, or winter, or death itself. Faith in the Rending Light was enough to survive on, and so people did, and prospered even while fearing the God of the Undead, who could appear at any time and wipe settlements off the face of the earth.
Of course, even with hope and acceptance, many were murdered by the Fell Lord, Tom was one of them.

He now pushes on the lid of his coffin, to be free and live again. Yet, he lacks the strength to climb out of his grave, just yet...


Coincidentally, a small bird died in this very graveyard, just a few days past. Stuck by a stray blast of necromantic energies in what may have been one of the final battles in the war against Aieux. The bird lay there, below the care of the mostly human residents of the village, just another dead thing.

And while the writer might joke that Henric was just too dumb to move on and avoid becoming a revenant, that is absolutely certainly the case for the bird.


To be more-continued!

[Egan_BW]

Tom

Tom reflects on his current situation. It would seem that he's stuck. He doesn't exactly remember how he might have wound up buried inside of a coffin, yet that does seem to be what's happened. On the bright side he doesn't seem to be suffocating or anything.
Still, simply pushing on the coffin lid won't work, Tom isn't strong enough! He'll have to think of something else, or alternatively adjust to his new existance living inside of a small box for the rest of eternity.

Henric

Henric has no trouble pushing his way out of the box. He emerges into the night air, the first thing he sees being the beautiful full moon and a sky full of stars.
Less aesthetically pleasing are the mobs of corpses and skeletons presently clawing their way out of the ground. Hmm, that might be a problem. Henric scratches his head. His fingers feel odd.
Henric checks his hands, maybe they're covered in something. Instead, he sees that his hands are skeletal. Henric is no fool, and he knows this can only mean one of two things: either he's dead, or become see-through somehow.
Among the crowd of dead, Henric notices a little girl who he would almost assume to be still living as well as... some kind of four-armed skeleton with a long snake body?

Bird

The bird feels a sudden rush flow through its little skull, which is strange because it really shouldn't be in any shape to be feeling anything. The voices, they shout at the bird, tell it to get back up. So it does.
Good, the voices say. Fuck you, the bird replies. Caw! Caw! Get out of my head, mother-fuckers! And so the voices dissipate, leaving the bird alone in its own dead skull.
However, it would seem that whatever was just inside of the bird's mind left some luggage behind, because it suddenly starts thinking more clearly. Strange magical forms impose themselves upon the bird's mind, giving it what it supposes are new abilities. Useful!
There are a number of deceased humans stumbling about here, but most of them seem even dumber than the bird. The most interesting ones are the little girl in perfectly perserved ancient clothing, and the lamia skeleton. Not that the bird knows what either of those are, but it knows that they're interesting!

Tiim

Tiim surveys the night. How did she get here? What is this place? The last thing she remembers is eating a meal with her family. Everything was going to be fine. So why this?
Many undead stumble around the graveyard. Tiim knows what they are; servants of the Dread Lord. Yet, for some unknowable reason in her guts, she doesn't feel afraid of them. They feel like... kin?
She notices the skeleton of a snake-person. What were they called? Lama? She had seen a skeleton just like this before, in the museum. And illustrations of similar ones in her history books, accounts of old battles against Aiuex.

Shalva

Shalva shivers, feeling cold to her bones. This place is unfamiliar to her, so unlike the desert where she grew up. There are trees out there, barely visible in the moonlight.
She rubs her hands together, hoping to warm them up, but...
Just bones. That's all that's left. How... how did this...

Spoiler: Tiim, the Cursed Daughter (click to show/hide)

Name: Tiim
Status: Almost perfectly intact
Inventory: Ancient clothing, magic-preserved

Attributes:
   Determination: +0
   Observation: +0
   Influence: +1
   Strength: -2
   Agility: +0
   Manipulation: +2

Skills:
   Ancient Fire Magic: +2
   Ancient Language: +1
   Ancient Purpose: Father: +2
   Ancient Numerology: Curse of the Unending: +1

Further Reference: http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=177648.msg8221589#msg8221589

Spoiler: Shalva, Sole Reminder of Her People (click to show/hide)

Name: Mrush'shalva
Status: Skeletal, Intact
Inventory: Considerably more naked than the day she hatched.

Attributes:
   Determination: +1
   Observation: -1
   Influence: -1
   Strength: +2
   Agility: +1
   Manipulation: -1

Skills:
   Seduction: +2
   Chemistry: +2
   Weapon: Tail: +1
   Stealth: +1

Further Reference: http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=177648.msg8221662#msg8221662

Spoiler: Henric, the Henric (click to show/hide)

Name: Henric
Status: Skeletal, intact
Inventory: Rich in lead

Attributes:
   Determination: +1
   Observation: +1
   Influence: -1
   Strength: +1
   Agility: +1
   Manipulation: +0

Skills:
   Staff fighting: +2
   Tracking: +1
   Navigating the wilds: + 1
   Guessing what tools do: +1
   Woodcarving: +1
   Climbing: +1

Further Reference: http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=177648.msg8221483#msg8221483

Spoiler: Tom, Determined Conservationist (click to show/hide)

Name: Tom Greenfield
Status: Skeletal, intact, slightly reinforced by vines
Inventory: Some vines

Attributes:
   Determination: +1
   Observation: +1
   Influence: +1
   Strength: -2
   Agility: -2
   Manipulation: +2

Skills:
   Agriculture: +2
   Druidcraft: +2
   Animal Handling: +1
   Polearms: +1

Further Reference: http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=177648.msg8221512#msg8221512

Spoiler: Bird, Minor Nuisance (click to show/hide)

Name: <Caw>. Goes by Moldbin. Or just Bird.
Status: Perfectly intact
Inventory: Zero shinies :(

Attributes:
   Determination: +1
   Observation: +1
   Influence: +0
   Strength: +0
   Agility: +1
   Manipulation: +0

Skills:
   Semblance of Life: +1
   Mind over Matter +1
   Weapon Use: Bird: +1
   Literate: +1
   Curiosity: +1.
   Geography: +1
   Animal Empathy +1
   Mind Eater +1

Further Reference: http://www.bay12forums.com/smf/index.php?topic=177648.msg8221923#msg8221923

[NJW2000]

Henric, after spending some time considering the evidence, comes to a deeper understanding of his situation with the aid of syllogism.

            1. Henric can put his hands inside his own ribs.
            2. Nothing living can survive having a large object lodged in its ribcage
            3. Henric is not alive
            4. Anyone not alive is dead
            5. Henric is dead

Having arrived at this important fact, he spends some time disentangling his phalanges from his ribs, and tries to remember what he was meant to do next.

Learn about magic.

Oh, right.

Henric walks over to the four-armed snake-person skeleton, and stands at a discreet distance, arms by his sides, feet widely planted, waiting for something to happen or for someone to tell him what to do.