Amiq Rasol

Sailors call them Deep Men or Dark Men. Each was once a corsair who drowned when lost at sea, was murdered, or died marooned; a corsair who turned his back on the gods can rise this way too. They look like living sailors except for a faint green glow in their eyes at night, slightly long teeth and nails, unusually pale skin, and worn clothes. True seeing, a gem of seeing, or the special sight of a true-seeing wise woman shows the truth: a rotting corpse.

Each raking claw does 1d4 and the bite 1d6; the bite also strips away one experience level, cutting the victim's Hit Dice, spell ability and class bonuses. Someone drained of every level dies but does not rise as one of them, and resurrection or raise dead works on the body as usual.

Three times a day they can use a strong charm (save vs. spell at -2) to draw mortals close. A rare few lack the usual evil and are simply neutral. They charm people into going to the place they died, recovering the remains, so a priest of at least 9th level can give them proper funeral rites, which frees the creature to pass on.

Priests turn them as vampires anywhere but the spot where they died, where turning always fails. Sleep, charm, hold and cold spells fail against them, and weapons below +2 pass through them harmlessly. Evil ones take 2d4 from each vial of holy water; neutral ones are unharmed by it. A raise dead spell ends one forever, while resurrection makes it a living person again. Any other death is temporary, for it rebuilds a body within 24 hours.

Each one lingers on coasts or islands close to where it perished, roaming freely rather than bound to the exact place, which is often open sea. Wander more than 100 miles from it and the creature fades out, reappearing back at its death site. They feed on the life they drain, and one that goes years without feeding dwindles into a wraith. They prefer darkness and have infravision, but act equally well by day. Clever, they may pose as living travelers to join an adventuring party and keep a steady meal nearby. Part of their being belongs to the Negative Material Plane, and their haunts keep that link alive. Usually alone, several may linger where a ship met disaster, yet even then each is wholly wrapped up in itself.

Nature has no place for them, and their remains are worthless. They keep some of their old gear and treasure and gather more from victims. One tale tells of a Deep Man who led a party to buried treasure in exchange for collecting its bones and giving them proper rites.