RPG Evolution: Stay Dead

Be it bodysnatching or restless undead, the same tactics apply to keep the dead, dead.

Be it bodysnatching or restless undead, the same tactics apply to keep the dead, dead.

Protected_Graves_to_prevent_Grave_Robbers_-_geograph.org.uk_-_3301588.jpg

Picture of Protected Graves to prevent Grave Robbers by Les Hull, CC BY-SA 2.0, File:Protected Graves to prevent Grave Robbers - geograph.org.uk - 3301588.jpg - Wikimedia Commons

Valuable Corpses

It’s hard to imagine just how valuable corpses were in the 18th and 19th centuries. With the rise of operating theaters to teach surgical students how to operate on the living, the dead were in high demand. In 1790 there were around 300 medical students between Edinburgh and London; by 1820, there were over 1,400. Each student was expected to dissect up to three cadavers.

But there was a problem. In Britain, corpses could only be legally sanctioned under the Murder Act of 1752, averaging 10 to 12 corpses a year. Paris faced a similar challenge but had a system in place to provide for corpses, resulting in London schools losing as much as 20 percent enrollment as students fled to places where they could have guaranteed access to practice their profession. The pressure was on for a solution, and with money on the line, these institutions turned to a shady source for corpses: resurrectionists.

These upper-class institutions were willing to pay, and pay well, for these corpses. A corpse could net up to 250 shillings; a skilled weaver worked 12 hours a day, six days a week, to earn 1/50th that much.

Meet Your Taker

Body snatching, while serious, was only a misdemeanor in the eyes of the law, punishable by fines of up to six months in prison. The larger concern was valuables, which could invoke longer prison sentences (those were the domain of grave robbers, a different type of rogue). Most body snatchers stripped the body bare and loaded it into a horse-drawn cart. Armed with a wooden shovel (quieter than a metal one), a lantern, hooks, and ropes, they dug down in teams to a coffin and hoisted it out of the grave. This was hard work and required significant upper body strength; resurrectionists might snatch as many as six bodies in a night and had to lift them both out of the grave and over cemetery walls.

Despite being universally reviled, body snatchers were a tight-lipped group of exclusive professionals, relying on stealth and discretion to keep their activities out of the public eye. But that all came crashing down with two men named William, William Burke and William Hare, who decided that the most lucrative corpse was one they had recently converted.

At the behest of Robert Knox, the leading anatomist in Edinburgh and a fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons, Burke and Hare were paid seven pounds and 10 shillings per body. And they made a killing, literally, by murdering as many as 16 people, passing them off as freshly interred corpses to Knox (who surely knew the difference but accepted them anyway). Of the three, only Burke was convicted and hanged; his skeleton remains are on display in the Anatomical Museum at Edinburgh Medical School. The murders were so notorious that their actions gave rise to a new word, “burking”: the act of committing a murder with the intent to sell the corpse.

John Bishop and Thomas Williams followed in the Williams’ footsteps in London three years later in 1831, murdering a child and selling his corpse to the King’s College School of Anatomy. After they were caught and hanged, the law finally changed in 1832 with the Anatomy Act, making it illegal to sell unclaimed bodies.

Defenses Against the Living … and the Dead

Not surprisingly, many of the tactics used to ward off the living from digging up the dead seem like they were meant to keep not just the living out, but the dead in. And in a fantasy game, both can certainly apply.

The rich could afford tombstones, vaults, and mausoleums; but body snatchers weren’t interested in drawing attention to themselves from affluent corpses. It was the poor who were targets, and they did what they could: placing flowers and pebbles on graves to detect disturbances, digging heather and branches into the soil to make disinterment more difficult, and even having friends and relatives watch graves at night.

Mortsafes were iron-and-stone devices of great weight, heavy contraptions with a plate placed over the coffin and rods connecting to a second plate, removable only by two people with keys. These were placed over the coffins for about six weeks in the summer, when the body was sufficiently decayed and of no use for dissection.

Watch-houses were even created to shelter the watchers, and in some cases morthouses were built to house corpses until they started to decompose (up to three months in the winter), buildings with no windows and multiple locks.

The Corpse Problem

Even if your campaign isn’t technologically advanced enough to support anatomists (and many are), it’s easy to see how these practices might arise in a Dungeons & Dragons campaign and why player characters might bump against these defenses. Many religions believed that the corpse was necessary for a future resurrection; in practical terms a cleric needs a body, and if they can’t reach the corpse before burial and without permission from family members, they may need to overcome the aforementioned defenses.

Necromancers—the fantasy resurrectionist equivalent—face a similar problem; both animate dead and create undead require a pile of bones or a corpse within 10 feet. Casting a spell at a target requires the caster to see it, so aspiring necromancers will need to be able to see the corpse somehow (clairvoyanceor scrying), and even then, the undead might be trapped until freed, from six weeks to three months. Similarly, spontaneously created corporeal undead might find they are trapped … until an unsuspecting resurrectionist frees them.

Rest in Peace

In real life, resurrectionists were the intersection between the upper class desire to advance medicine (and anatomists’ careers) and the lower class, who had few rights in life and even fewer in death. In a fantasy campaign, those with magic that can resurrect or animate the dead take on a similar role. Every corpse was somebody’s friend, relative, or lover, and towns will do what they can to let their beloved dead rest … at least until they think no one but the gods has need for them.
 

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Michael Tresca

Michael Tresca

Ramaster

Adventurer
This is a very interesting topic.

In fantasy works, there's no great need to aquire corpses for study (magic takes care of most healing), but the creation of undead is just as big a draw (if not bigger!) to such practices.

I imaging making good of this as a plot point for a slightly more renaisance/victorian era setting.
 

talien

Community Supporter
Although it makes sense, I was surprised to learn how the defenses were tied to corpse decay. Depending on the season (3 months in the winter, 6 weeks in the summer), undead may come swarming out once the barriers are removed.

Conversely, I didn't realize that spellcasters need to see a corpse to animate it or speak with it -- makes sense as most spells require line of sight -- so that means anyone trying to cast a spell on a corpse needs to dig it up (mold earth is useful, but not if a mortsafe is involved!) or magically scry it. Digging up graves is pretty much a third of the new D&D movie and demonstrates how amusing (and frustrating) this can be in a game.
 

MNblockhead

A Title Much Cooler Than Anything on the Old Site
First, thank you for introducing me to the term "burking". Grave-robbing has played a significant role in my current Warhammer Fantasy campaign. I'm definitely going to work in a gang of "burkers" (not sure if that is correct, but its the term I'm going to use) into the plot.

As for the point @Ramaster raised about no need for corpses for studying anatomy for healing in Fantasy settings, I would say that very much depends on the setting. In Warhammer Fantasy, doctors, herbalists, surgeons, and other healers are very important and figure prominently in game play. As do physician guilds, medical colleges, and graverobbers (which is a player class in the game).

Even in D&D, even if you are not playing with gritty realism rules variants, many people run campaigns with the assumption that healing and, especially, resurrection magic is out of reach for most people. For the extraordinary characters who make up an adventuring party, healing magic may be readily available, but their access to such resources are not necessarily the norm.

One thing that I've been thinking about is in a world where you have a small number of privileged people with access to extraordinary magic for healing, revivify, and resurrection; how would the masses react? It is one thing to have extreme wealth disparities. People in feudal societies would not risk rebellion except in times of extreme famine, perhaps? But when it comes to curing desease, healing, restoring yourself from injury and disease, bringing a loved one back to life--it would seem that if it wasn't extremely rare, but only a small few powerful and/or wealthy people could access it, it would lead to resentment and civil unrest.
 

talien

Community Supporter
One thing that I've been thinking about is in a world where you have a small number of privileged people with access to extraordinary magic for healing, revivify, and resurrection; how would the masses react? It is one thing to have extreme wealth disparities. People in feudal societies would not risk rebellion except in times of extreme famine, perhaps? But when it comes to curing desease, healing, restoring yourself from injury and disease, bringing a loved one back to life--it would seem that if it wasn't extremely rare, but only a small few powerful and/or wealthy people could access it, it would lead to resentment and civil unrest.
I imagine adventurers self-sort this way, with higher-level adventurers having more wealth due to their success. D&D ends up defaulting to this model where power over life and death is tied to level, and level is tied to people who exercise significant risk (vs. sitting around managing a city).

What's interesting to me is that if you just replace grave-robbing with reanimation, the social unrest it causes is fundamentally the same. Most necros are probably not resurrecting rich people's corpses; they're animating the poor soldiers who died in combat on the field and the family couldn't afford a proper burial. It took a long time (12 year or so) before there was enough outrage for the laws to even change. That's a lot of reanimated corpses during that time.

One aspect of my campaign world is that there was, in order: a plague, reanimated corpses at massive scale, and those corpses used to wage war on the living. That fundamentally changed society's perspective on cleanliness, on burial, and on ensuring souls are laid to rest. And necromancy is outlawed by most civilized societies as a result.
 

Tonguez

A suffusion of yellow
First, thank you for introducing me to the term "burking". Grave-robbing has played a significant role in my current Warhammer Fantasy campaign. I'm definitely going to work in a gang of "burkers" (not sure if that is correct, but its the term I'm going to use) into the plot.
Burkers is correct London Burkers - Wikipedia

Generally I've always assumed that people will be quick to get their loved ones into Hallowed Ground for an Everlasting Rest so they cant be turned to undead (with a resident cleric renewing it in their daily prayers), undead are thus more likely for people who get killed away from populated areas. I also imagine Hallowed being cast on Battlefields so as to deny enemy necromancers raw material.

As for resurrectionist stealing corpses, thats a whole other thing. Stone tombs and iron plates makes since, though I've tended to use Church Grims as ghostly protectors of graveyards and of course Unhallowed graveyards have the issue of resident ghouls (not undead imc) who might object to Resurrectionist interfering with their lunch
 

MNblockhead

A Title Much Cooler Than Anything on the Old Site
Burkers is correct London Burkers - Wikipedia

Generally I've always assumed that people will be quick to get their loved ones into Hallowed Ground for an Everlasting Rest so they cant be turned to undead (with a resident cleric renewing it in their daily prayers), undead are thus more likely for people who get killed away from populated areas. I also imagine Hallowed being cast on Battlefields so as to deny enemy necromancers raw material.

As for resurrectionist stealing corpses, thats a whole other thing. Stone tombs and iron plates makes since, though I've tended to use Church Grims as ghostly protectors of graveyards and of course Unhallowed graveyards have the issue of resident ghouls (not undead imc) who might object to Resurrectionist interfering with their lunch
You would think that in a society where necromancers were real, cremation would be standard practice. Its one of those Western-culture trappings of D&D that never made sense to me in how many D&D settings are presented.

I mean, maybe some evil necromancer will invent some people-ash golem, but I think that would be less traumatic than your loved one walking around as a zombie or skeleton. And of course, it would explain why the practice of scattering your loved one's ashes in the wind, in the ocean, or into running water developed.
 

talien

Community Supporter
You would think that in a society where necromancers were real, cremation would be standard practice. Its one of those Western-culture trappings of D&D that never made sense to me in how many D&D settings are presented.

I mean, maybe some evil necromancer will invent some people-ash golem, but I think that would be less traumatic than your loved one walking around as a zombie or skeleton. And of course, it would explain why the practice of scattering your loved one's ashes in the wind, in the ocean, or into running water developed.
Having just finished watching the first season of Shogun...this makes a lot of sense, actually.
 

maceochaid

Explorer
This inspires me for a little world flavor about clerics. Necromancers can't affect corpses in sacred ground, so Clerics establish stable churches and monasteries watch over cemeteries and ward off necromancers, with only a few serving as errant clerics traveling (PC's would come from this group, but the majority of NPCs would be clerics from the former). Then some good adventure hooks being a race against a necromancer to get to a cemetery that has lost it's cleric and hold it down before a new cleric can arrive and continue the warding prayers.
 

First, thank you for introducing me to the term "burking". Grave-robbing has played a significant role in my current Warhammer Fantasy campaign. I'm definitely going to work in a gang of "burkers" (not sure if that is correct, but its the term I'm going to use) into the plot.
If you want to have some fun with misunderstandings and unintentional insults/accusations, consider the fact that berk and burke are homonyms with very, very different meanings. While IRL burke is a verb, it's not hard to imagine a fantasy setting where it becomes a noun ("one who burkes, ie a murderer and body snatcher") over time, and the noun berk might similarly drift into an adjectival form like berking.

A sufficiently farcical game might wind up including a line like "That berking lunatic burked some berk that interrupted us burking the guy we were actually paid to collect and now we've got to find some berk to take the second piece of merchandise off our hands fast." Not quite to the level of the Smurfs, but still fraught with potential for confusion. Even more so if you layer on some Cockney rhyming slang - subbing in work, perk, jerk, murk, etc. - to make the argot really opaque to outsiders.

Of course, all that assumes your fantasy language in use works a great deal like English (as they often do for some reason). You can get milk further confusion if there are other homophones in commonly-used foreign languages, eg "burkk" is low Dwarven for "seller of meat pies" and "berque" is Elvish for "procurer" or something. "I know a burkk down in Little Hell Town who might buy fresh product from us, works the corner 'cross from that knife-eared berque Grinning Meliel and her girls. We'll have to wait till he closes down for the night though, he's not berk enough to do the deal in front of his customers."
 
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