Mummies

Mummification is an act of optimism. An irreversible bet that the future will be better than the present. It's a big investment to have a secure tomb built, a body prepared and (often reluctant) favored retainers rounded up for interment. The commitment of capital is total, an undiversified stake in the most illiquid of assets, a spice-packed, spell-swaddled, sealed-for-freshness corpse.

Mummification is the cryonics of my setting's bronze age. When things went wrong, when the sky fell, when the heavens warred, in the days of Ragnarok, of Apocalypse, the Flood and the Sea People, the great high priests and god-kings retreated from the world to sleep through disaster and awake to a new day, when they could emerge and resume their rightful dominance.

Karloff in the Mummy (1932)

After our recent discussion of the wight and wraith, monsters with comparatively weak presence in the popular imagination, we're once again examining a monster with a lot of cultural resonance. All the usual writers had a go at mummy stories (Poe, Conan Doyle, Stoker, later Lovecraft & Rice) and there's a stack of memorable movies: Karloff for Universal, Lee's Hammer mummy and then the 1999 action romp reboot. Each with a constellation of sequels and spinoffs. 

When mummies appeared in the original D&D Monsters & Treasure booklet, they were culturally ubiquitous and that popularity has continued to the present. 

All that to say, your players might not know what a wight is but they definitely have a mental image for mummies. Does the D&D mummy actually feel like the mummy pre-existing in players' imaginations? Does it have anything interesting to do?

Lee in The Mummy (1959)

Mummy Dearest

Across D&D editions, the mechanical structure of the mummy is fairly consistent: Fear-based paralysis, melee hits convey rotting disease, resistance to basic attacks. Usually vulnerable to fire. It's a tough, but eminently physical threat (distinguishing it from the wraith & spectre) and often has a religious/cleric flavor (distinguishing it from the Lich). Honestly... very solid. 

Of the Basic undead, the mummy is one of my favorites.

The initial save vs. paralysis can swing a fight. I've run into mummies a couple of times recently as a player in an OSE Arden Vul campaign. In the first, we mostly made our saves, volleyed spells and crushed the mummies handily. In another tomb-raid, we discovered mummies but most of the party (including our cleric) failed the fear save and it turned into a desperate scramble for escape in which we lost several characters. 

We managed to avoid the Rot but that's another iconic, thematically resonant danger. It's an effect that lingers and often even a successful fight results in a side-quest to find a cure. 

Even as a mid-level party, discovering mummies is a tense, scary moment. 

Vulnerability to fire is also perfect. On the level of practical instinct, a dehydrated, cloth or paper enveloped corpse seems like an ancient Duraflame. On the fictional memory level, Karloff's Imhotep is destroyed when his animating scroll is burned by holy fire. 

Trampier for the AD&D Monster Manual. This rocks

We'll keep all this good stuff in and I'll add a sprinkle of my own spices as we wind up the bandages and tie it off with a bow. 

Harry Clarke, for Poe's Masque of the Red Death

Mummy

Armor Class: 16 from bandages woven with protective incantations

Damage Immunities: Only harmed by fire & magic. All damage is reduced by half. For the purposes of catching on fire, the full damage not the reduced, half-damage is used. Unlike most undead, casting Raise Dead on a mummy turns it into a normal human (rather than destroying it).

Vulnerabilities: Holy water and Turn Undead work as normal vs undead. 

Hit Dice: 5+1 (HP 23)

Attacks: 

When a mummy is first seen, characters must save vs. fear or be paralyzed for d4 rounds, this is broken if the mummy attacks or moves out of sight

1x touch (ignores armor), +5 to hit, d12 damage + disease

Morale: 9. Confident to start, but won't stick around if things go bad.

Number Appearing: d4

Move: Speed as an encumbered human.

Saves: 13+

Disease: 

Grave Rot: Every hour, lose 1/4 of your max HP. Hit points lost in this way can't be healed until the disease is cured. If you die while under the effect of Grave Rot, you'll return as a zombie (or occasionally some other undead). Grave Rot spreads from the point of infection. If it's on a limb, quick amputation can be a viable cure.

Curse of the Mummy's Tomb - Games Workshop

The stats above are for your entry-level, starter-package mummy. This is what you'll find in the tombs of prosperous middle-managers and as the servants forced to follow their masters across the not-so-final frontier.

For the true elites, the god-kings, high-priests and Stygian arch-tyrants, more luxurious, deluxe options are available. These come in the form of powerful magical scrolls & wards woven into the wrappings and cerements. These provide substantial protection and immediate counter-attack spells. They wouldn't be in a trapped tomb complex if they didn't believe in the castle doctrine. 

Common Knowledge

The treasure-filled tombs of the ancients are the stuff of legend. Many tales are told around hearths and tavern tables of the baleful, bandaged figures that hoard relics and curse intruders. A few rumors:

1. The mere sight of a mummy can un-man you, no matter how you've tried to brace your mind.
2. The preserved undead are prepared for intruders. Watch for traps!
3. A slight touch can carry a curse. You'll wither and die in exquisite agony.
4. Sometimes, if you stumble into a mummy's tomb, you can escape with an apology.
5. A long time ago, someone disturbed a mummy's tomb and it came out with an army and razed their village. Ruled that county for almost a hundred years.
6. If you find the right mummy, they'll reward you for services amongst the living.

Tactics

Mummies expect to scare you. They aren't surprised when the psychic assault of their visages rigormorts your limbs and your friends stumble over themselves trying to flee.

While you scramble they will advance, eager to brand you with rot as recompense for your insolence. Those with spells will let them fly. If a spell-caster is present, a few of the mute-servitors will offensive-guard while the caster blasts away. 

If they can't get the upper hand in the opening rounds, they won't slug it out in a pitched battle. They might retreat (though they're slow so this might be hard), trigger escape spells if they have them (gaseous form, illusions etc.) or bargain. 

If things really go bad, the stronger mummies are likely to have a death-curse. A final double-bird to the plebes who trampled their better. "From death's door, I spit on thee!"

Psychology

These are self-assured mother-fuckers. Nobody told them "no" when they were kids, nobody made them share. They legacied into the Academy or the Priesthood and built self-made billions (with a few seed-millions). They've dealt with scrubs like you before. You don't deserve to beat them. You don't have the pedigree for it. You haven't put in the long hours in the prayer-pits and the propitiation markets. 

They are ready. They said all the right prayers, tupperwared all their organs, stocked the basement with canned veggies and pickled servants. The caves along the dead sea are filled with their scrolls. The falling-blocks and spike-walls are calibrated. They made sure everything was just-so before closing the lids on their coffins with armfuls of star-charts and annotated copies of Atlas Shrugged. 

They've made it into the 144,000. Who are you? 

If you wanted to survive you should have been smarter. Holier. If you're too busy toiling under the lash to study theosophy that's on you... Not their fault you were born a slave. It's too late to come around now looking for a handout. 

These guys are happy to serve the demiurge, so long as they get a gold star and a front row seat to watch the plebes burn. When they see Him, they will proudly gesture to the irreplaceable hosts ranged countless as sacrifices and tell Him that they are important. 

The Mummy 1999

Encounters

The traditional mummy encounter, both in-game and in media, sees the delvers open a forgotten chamber, undisturbed for centuries. They gawk at all the frescos for a few minutes before finally popping the sarcophagus (or maybe it pops itself) and shit gets real. 

It's a classic for a reason. A while back, I wrote up King Tut's tomb with D&D stats. 

If you want to go beyond the obvious, there's lots of options. 

The basic mummy is most dangerous in close spaces. They have a touch attack and slow movement so they're prone to getting kited. You can adjust difficulty by adjusting the size of the physical space. 

Adding spellcasting and extra defenses to a mummy gives it a ton of tactical variability. Here's a few that particularly appeal to me: 

Defensive / Utility: 

• Silence: An always-on bubble of silence surrounds the mummy (as per the spell). Tactically interesting and very creepy.
• Spell Turning: Nasty and just the sort of thing a mummy would use
• Continual Darkness: Pretty scary, but not getting to see the mummy is a bummer. Still, finding out that what's in that obscured bubble can give you Grave Rot is a terrible little surprise.
• Gaseous Form / Passwall / Spider Climb etc. as escape route. 

The Mummy 1999

Attack: 

• Turn Intruders: Like Turn Undead but for living humans. 
• Insect Plague: Do I need to explain why plagues fit mummies?
• Finger of Death: Yikes, yikes, yikes!
• Animate Dead: Better if you've pre-stocked the area with corpses (or you can turn a fallen adventurer on their fellows). 

Pick just a few. Simply by varying the spell loadout, each mummy-lord encounter becomes its own specific challenge. 

Inca. Egypt doesn't have a monopoly on scary mummies

Epiphenomena 

While the previous undead we've discussed have been presaged by chill auras and flickering torches, the foreshadowing of mummies is interior design.

However much the mummy could afford is all around you, in oversize statuary, mosaic floors and frescoes, chanting their praises.  

When you finally get to his sarcophagus, you'll have seen his image a hundred times already. Or maybe he's hiding in a wall, ready to Kool-aid out as you pass. 

Treasure

Mummies have lots of loot. They are the very icon of "Lay up for yourselves treasures upon earth... where thieves break through and steal." For where their treasure is, there will their heart be also, in a jar two shelves over. 

Sometimes, in a campaign, when your players have really triumphed over long odds through clever problem solving and risky dares, they should get a big pile of treasure. More than they can carry in a wheelbarrow. A mummy is a great opportunity to deliver this. 

First, is the mummy itself.

If the party has managed to slay it without burning it to ash, its wrappings may be layered with sigils and scrolls. A flaky magical croissant. Some of the wards in the cerements might be salvageable and quilted into your wizard's robe. I love giving my players lots of scrolls. It's a chance to give them utility spells they'd never pick (here's looking at your Read Languages) or powerful attacks that are too strong for them to have regular access to. In the aforementioned AV game, I carried a scroll of delayed-blast fireball for six months of real-world sessions before the scroll and I were both consumed by beetles. 

There's probably other awesome paraphernalia of fabulous wealth and merciless resource extraction. Like a meteoric dagger or a sweet bronze sword etched with enchantments or a was-stick that casts clerical spells of tyrannical old gods long since fallen out of wide worship. The mummy is likely wearing very cool jewelry. You don't even know blood diamonds! 

There's doubtless stacks of valuable furniture, shabti-tchotchkes, and linens and robes that are just coming back into fashion. 

Beyond their possessions, the bodies of mummies are themselves valued by alchemists and scribes. Used in the production of patent medicines and specialty pigments for the scribing of arcana. The succulent organs stored for centuries have certainly benefited from their centuries of affinage and will be prized by the avant-garde gourmands back in the capital. 

You can give your players coins if you want (and you probably should). They'll appreciate them no doubt but there are a lot more flavorful things you can place here, like a dry-aged mummy steak. 

Old King Tut-tut

Variants

This is a robust monster that can easily be re-purposed a million ways. 

• Mummy Hands could be a Thing.
• A mummy returned could easily be the arch-villain of a campaign.
• If a mummy-lord is destroyed, conceivably his servitors could wind up as someone else's goons.
• In my own worldbuilding, mummies are associated with an ancient cult to a Chronos/Saturn-like exile tyrant god. Worth a post of their own sometime. 
• I also use mummies for my Stygians, a faction of misotheists who have sculpted an egregore afterlife to escape the gods' judgment
• Arnold K's mummies are really cool. They're sadder than mine.

Discussion

When my players encounter mummies, I want their response to be, "We know you, we hate you, we're terribly afraid of you and we very badly want to steal all your stuff."

It's an archetype they recognize and delight in defeating. A monster that's fun to hold down with a pitchfork while immolating it with burning oil.

The mummy isn't scared of them. It is busy dreaming of the golden age's return. They're entitled to a better world.

If you can battle past a mummy's claws and contempt and actually talk to them, they will probably be disappointed. Their messiah never came, the revival never happened, the Day of Judgment is yet to come. 

Still the future stretches onward. Their faith remains unbent. They can wait.