The Baitala of Palibantan

Four travellers from distant parts were walking together in the jungle. They were travelling from the city of Jherangari to the city of Bhuranipur in the country of Palibantan in the deep south of the world. It was a journey that would take about two weeks and at times it took them through lonely stretches of forest near the banks of the Jherangari river.

On the afternoon of their fourth day the travellers found themselves in one of these lonely places when they spied a man limping along the trail ahead of them. The man was moving westward, just as they were, and didn't yet seem to be aware of them. Since he was limping they caught up to him easily. When they were within about 40 cubits of the man, they called out in the Palibantan tongue; 'Hello, fellow traveller. To where are you bound?'

At this the man turned and started to limp back toward them a little before stopping about ten cubits away. He had a quizzical look on his face and asked, 'Do you have any food? I'm very hungry'.

The travellers began to rummage though their packs to dig out some salted fish, nuts, and dried fruit for the man, and Clovis, one of the northern Tribesman, asked him, 'Why are you limping like that?

'Oh...,' said the man, 'I was bitten by a snake on my ankle. It must have been poisoned, because I do not remember it happening - only that I woke up with a pain in my leg and these two little red puncture wounds.' He lifted up his leg as if to demonstrate, teetering a little on the remaining leg while trying to keep his balance.

'Where do you come from?' asked Clovis.

'Well, this I do not remember,' said the man. 'And also, I am not sure where I am going. But one thing I do know is that I am very hungry, so I am happy that you have come along!'

By this time Baran, the other northerner, had the food out of his pack and approached to hand it to the stranger. But something about the off-colour look of the man alarmed him, for though it was hot the man's face did not glisten with sweat and oil as the others did. So Baran did not approach too closely. Instead cut a large, fresh leaf from a plant by the trail and laid it on the ground in front of him. He then placed the food on it and backed away, keeping some distance between himself and the man lest the stranger be diseased.

'What is your name?' Baran asked while stepping backwards. The man quickly approached the food and bent down to take a handful.

'My name is Jhakna,' he said quickly, and then filled his mouth with as much food as he could, and it was the last that the gang could get out of him for a while as he ate ravenously.

When Jhakna was finished eating, Baran asked if he could take a closer look at Jhakna's leg. It seemed as if the wound from the snake had never quite healed. Baran then took out his knife, as if to use it as a probe, and gently cut a scratch on the man's leg with it. No blood came forth, and Jhakna seemed not to notice the wound. A gnawing fear began to take hold of Baran, and so he reached up to Jhakna's wrist and checked to see if his life-blood ran. Not finding a pulse, Baran stood up again and quickly backed away. Something was definitely not quite normal here, and he shared his thoughts with his fellow travellers in a hurried whisper: 'I think he's dead, boys.'

The travellers asked Jhakna a few more questions - many of which he couldn't answer due to forgetfulness. The last question put to Jhakna was answered by a question of his own:

'Do you have any food? I'm really hungry.' he asked for the second time, despite having just eaten.

There was a hurried consultation in the group, and it was decided to give Jhakna a second ration of food. Clovis then said 'You should go back that way', pointing back in the direction from which they had come. 'There is another village not far way and they will help you better than we can.'

To this Jhakna, whose mouth was still full, nodded vigorously in agreement. Clovis then gave him a gentle shove in that direction to get him going and, when they watched as the little man limped eastward down the trail and disappeared from sight around a corner. Without a pause, our travellers gathered up their belongings and hiked westward at as brisk a pace as they could manage, hoping to get as many miles under their feet as possible before nightfall.

When the gloam of evening started to descend, they made camp in a little clearing in the jungle not far off the trail and still within sound of the river. The night was warm enough to fore-go having a fire, and Clovis (who was the group's self-appointed security officer) felt that the fire might attract undue attention in the clearing, so it was best not to light one in any case. The group settled down with a little more discussion than normal and it was a while before most members fell asleep. Being on watch was a bit of a misnomer, since it was pitch black and those on 'watch' had to resort to their aural talents. But nevertheless, it was during the third 'watch' of the night that Aben-Zaki, the Eastern sorcerer, heard a noise not too far away. He quickly alerted his countryman, Amelizar, who was also listening intently, and he confirmed that something was out there. Someone or something had caused a pebble to go skittering across the path. They each reached out to their fellows and quietly roused them.

When the others were alert, too, everybody held their breath and listened. Sure enough, something was there and it was now much closer, less than 15 cubits away by Clovis' estimation, and drawing steadily nearer. In desperation, Clovis felt for his pouch and jabbed two large fingers inside so as to draw out the pebble upon which he liked to cast his 'light' charm. The sound drew nearer! Clovis finally managed to draw out his light pebble and was about to call upon the spirit of Sinua, the Mother Moon, to cast her light upon the pebble when he dropped in onto the ground! As the sound of the intruder drew ever closer, Clovis felt around on the ground in desperation for the pebble, cursing under his breath that it felt like so many other pebbles and why did he ever choose to use a pebble for a fetish anyway. Finally, when the intruder was only steps away, he found the pebble and held it up. He spat out the words which would cause the pebble to emit its light and a split second later the entire campsite was revealed by its pale glow. Clovis looked toward where he had last heard the noise and felt as if he was looking into the face of death itself.

'Do you have any food? I'm very hungry,' asked Jhakna, who was standing mere feet away. Everybody stood up at the same moment and began to pat down their the hairs of the back of their necks.

'You surprised us there, friend', said Baran 'Don't you think you've eaten enough for one day?'

Jhakna simply repeated the question; 'Do you have any food?'.

Baran went to the pony that carried their gear and pulled out yet another ration of food to give to Jhakna, and while it was being eaten, the group formed a huddle and developed a plan to deal with their unwanted guest.

When Jhakna had finished eating, Baran approached and said, 'I'd like to take another look at your leg, if you don't mind.'

Jhakna agreed, and Baran approached with his axe concealed behind his back.

'It might be best if you looked away, because I'm going to prod at the wound a little and it might hurt, but don't be alarmed,' continued Baran consolingly.

Baran then eased Jhakna onto the ground and directed him to turn his head to the left. Then, when he felt he was ready, Baran hoisted the axe over his head and took a heavy swing at the outstretched leg and cut a deep gash into it just below the knee. No blood spewed forth. Nor did Jhakna flinch at the blow. So Baran then said 'Look, Jhakna, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your problem is worse than just a snake bite. Take a look.'

Jhaka turned his head back and, upon seeing the wound, said, 'Aack! What have you done? Is this how you learned to heal wounds in your country? It is worse than before. How shall I ever walk home now? Uggh! This makes me hungry. Do you have any food? Oh, and some water. I'm very thirsty, too. Let me go to the river for a drink.' And with that Jhakna began to crawl towards the river in a most pathetic manner.

Baran and the others, who had by now lit a fire, gathered round the prone figure and Baran said 'Here Jhakna. Here is some food'. He placed it on the ground where Jhakna could reach it and the poor little man began to eat again as if it was the only thing that he had eaten in a week.

Baran looked at the others, but only Aben-Zaki, the Eastern Sorcerer, met his gaze. 'I fear it will only be a matter of time before we run out of food and he desires to eat us,' he said solemly.

Baran nodded in agreement and turned back toward Jhakna. He then hoisted the axe high once again and, like a novice butcher let loose on his first lamb with a greasy cleaver, Baran began to hack away at what was left of Jhakna's leg. It took several solid blows before the leg came fully off, but Jhakna seemed to be too busy eating to notice!

Once the leg was removed, there seemed to be no change in Jhakna's condition, and so the next step in the plan was put into action. Amelizar drew out a long dagger and began to hack at Jhakna's neck even as the little man was still trying to eat the rest of the salted fish. This also took several blows, but finally the head came off and rolled under a nearby bush. Clovis picked up the body and Baran went to fetch the head. Both now seemed inert. Just to test a theory, Baran placed the head on the neck once again as if to make Jhakna whole once more.

With this action Jhakna's face sprang to life once more! 'Do you have any...?' He began to ask, but the question was cut off when Baran abruptly withdrew the head again.

Jhakna's parts were then thrown on the ground again and his body was gradually cut up into manageable pieces while Aben-Zaki and Amelizar stoked the fire to a high heat. Jhakna's pieces were thrown on the fire and care was taken over the rest of the night to make sure that as much was burned as possible. In the morning it was decided to take the remains with them to seek some advice as to how to dispose of them properly, so the ashes and bits of charred bone were scooped into a bag. The group then packed up and left without looking back.

...

After seven more days of travel through the jungle, our travellers finally came upon a village near the river with a stockade around it to keep the bad animals out and the good animals in. These friendly people were fishers, hunters, and trappers and greeted the travellers with hospitality. Our heroes sat down at the fire with the villagers and described their adventures with Jhakna and asked if they knew what manner of being he might have been. They said he was likely a baitala - a spirit which inhabits a recently dead body and animates it. They confirmed that burning it was probably the best way to be rid of it, for baitala were known to be persistent in following around the living people they adopted and either eating them out of house and home or pestering them with questions and riddles. When asked what to do with the bag of ashes and bones, they were told to simply throw it away. The harm was in the spirit, not in the body, and the spirit now probably roamed the jungle once again until it would find its next suitable host.

Finally a woman came over to the group and offered everyone a serving of hot tea. 'You are most generous, ma'am,' replied Baran, but then posed a chilling question: 'May I ask; do you have any food?'

GM NOTES

The baitala spirit can be encountered anywhere that dead bodies might be found, including cemeteries, refuse dumps, battlefields, or just about anywhere in the wilderness. Each has its own personality, so they are not all the same, but they do share one thing in common: they need to feed on the living. What specific thing they need could be almost anything; food, clothing, wealth, companionship, answers to life's hard questions, attention, or the need to pose riddles. Use the baitala to add some spice to the campaign. Jhakna, the baitala presented above, was used as a vignette in a travel segment of a campaign to add some interest to the journey. He was a puzzle for the players, for it soon became obvious that he was undead, and yet he was sympathetic, even likable. The characters couldn't allow him to hang around, but they also didn't find it easy to be rid of him, even though he posed little direct threat. He was rendered inert by removing the head from the body, but ultimately he would have come back had the body not been burned. This forced the spirit to seek a new home, but did not kill it.

Inspired by the vetala/baital of Hindu myth.