Rotting Man

A rotting man looks like a zombie but is still a living, suffering human. His flesh melts into foul slime that drips off the bones, his hair is gone, and his shrunken organs give him a withered, hollow look. Many have lost an eye, a hand or a whole limb to the rot. They stagger along in endless pain and speak common and whatever other tongues they once knew, though slowly and with great effort. A detect undead spell picks them out clearly because of the virus they carry, though in truth they are living and fully aware.

Death will not come to them naturally, and most are driven mad, raving and attacking anyone nearby in hopes of being killed. They seldom use weapons, clawing instead with their nails, and their slowness means they always act last in a round.

On a natural 20, the attack may pass on the undead virus: the victim must save vs. spell at -2 or catch the disease.

Rotting men are poor fighters and seem almost grateful to fall. They lack the undead's immunities but take only half damage from cold. Clerics cannot turn them, and holy water only drives them further into madness. A slain rotting man collapses into a heap of slime crawling with the virus, a serious hazard in its own right.

Shunned and doomed to a slow end, rotting men often band together in small, roving packs. A few search for a cure, but most wander and assault whatever they see, hoping to die in the fight.

Now and then loyal friends hide and care for one within a village. He may pass away peacefully among them, but his death releases the virus onto everyone nearby, creating new rotting men.

They remain human and fully aware of their own horror. Unscrupulous mages find them fascinating test subjects. Rotting men eat anything, often garbage or what they can hunt, and their magical state lets them go weeks without drinking. Their skin can powerfully boost necromantic spells, though using it is dangerous to the caster.