Regeneration. The revenant regains 10 hit points at the start of its turn. If the revenant takes fire or radiant damage, this trait doesn’t function at the start of the revenant’s next turn. The revenant’s body is destroyed only if it starts its turn with 0 hit points and doesn’t regenerate.
Rejuvenation. When the revenant’s body is destroyed, its soul lingers. After 24 hours, the soul inhabits and animates another humanoid corpse on the same plane of existence and regains all its hit points. While the soul is bodiless, a wish spell can be used to force the soul to go to the afterlife and not return.
Turn Immunity. The revenant is immune to effects that turn undead.
Vengeful Tracker. The revenant knows the distance to and direction of any creature against which it seeks revenge, even if the creature and the revenant are on different planes of existence. If the creature being tracked by the revenant dies, the revenant knows.
Multiattack. The revenant makes two fist attacks.
Fist. Melee Weapon Attack: +7 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 11 (2d6 + 4) bludgeoning damage. If the target is a creature against which the revenant has sworn vengeance, the target takes an extra 14 (4d6) bludgeoning damage. Instead of dealing damage, the revenant can grapple the target (escape DC 14) provided the target is Large or smaller.
Scimitar. Melee weapon (martial, scimitar): +7 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 7 (1d6 + 4) slashing" damage. (Will only use this attack if using Fists does not work)
Vengeful Glare. The revenant targets one creature it can see within 30 feet of it and against which it has sworn vengeance. The target must make a DC 15 Wisdom saving throw. On a failure, the target is paralyzed until the revenant deals damage to it, or until the end of the revenant’s next turn. When the paralysis ends, the target is frightened of the revenant for 1 minute. The frightened target can repeat the saving throw at the end of each of its turns, with disadvantage if it can see the revenant, ending the frightened condition on itself on a success.
Description
Here's a version where Bandit B's appearance evolves over multiple deaths. On its first return it is only subtly unnatural, and the darker, more terrifying features—including the forehead symbol—only fully manifest after it has been slain three times.
Where a living bandit once stood now lingers something that should have remained buried.
The figure emerges from the shadows clad in worn leathers, faded and cracked from years of hard travel. Rusted buckles hold together armour scarred by blades that once claimed its life, while a weathered cloak hangs heavily from its shoulders, caked with dried mud and old blood. At its hip rests a nicked shortsword, its edge dulled but well cared for, and a weathered crossbow remains slung across its back, as though instinct alone still guides its hands.
At first glance, it could almost be mistaken for a living man. Its skin is pale and lifeless, stretched tightly across sharp features, with only faint scars hinting at the wounds that ended its mortal life. Its movements are stiff and deliberate, lacking the ease of the living, yet not overtly unnatural. Only its eyes betray the truth—cold, pale blue embers that never blink and never look away from their prey.
Each time the revenant is struck down and rises again, death leaves a deeper mark upon it. The pale flesh slowly darkens to the colour of old ash, splitting and shrinking against the bone beneath. Fresh cracks spread across its face and hands as though the body is slowly drying into a corpse. The wounds that once seemed healed begin to gape open once more, bloodless but unmistakably fatal, while the blue glow within its eyes burns brighter with every return.
Only after the third death does the true mark of its curse reveal itself.
The figure emerges from the shadows in tattered leathers that have long since rotted and cracked with age. Rusted buckles barely hold together armor scarred by blades that ended a life but never granted peace. A threadbare cloak hangs from skeletal shoulders, stained by dried mud, old blood.
At its hip rests a nicked shortsword whose edge is blackened with age, while a weathered crossbow remains slung across its back, as if the creature still remembers the trade it practiced in life.
Beneath the hood is not the face of a man, but the corpse of one. Ashen skin clings tightly to sharp cheekbones, torn in places to reveal yellowed bone beneath.
Deep scars—the wounds that once killed it—remain open yet bloodless. Wisps of lank, lifeless hair frame a face twisted into a permanent expression of bitter hatred.
Most disturbing are its eyes: hollow sockets burning with an unnatural pale blue light that never blink and never stray from their quarry.
On the forehead a simple circle surrounds the image of a hooded figure with glowing eyes, representing mystery, wisdom, and hidden knowledge. Behind the figure are two crescent shapes, symbolizing the boundary between the known world and the unknown.
Every movement is unnervingly deliberate. Its boots make little sound despite their heavy tread, and each step carries the grim certainty of an executioner. There is no greed in its gaze anymore, no excitement at the prospect of easy coin. The revenant remembers only betrayal, murder, and the names of those it has sworn to hunt beyond death itself.
Its belt still carries the remnants of a bandit's life—a few rotted coin purses, broken lockpicks, and tarnished trinkets stolen from forgotten victims—but these possessions are meaningless now. They remain only because the revenant cannot let go of the life that forged its hatred.
The air grows colder as it approaches. The smell of damp earth and freshly opened graves follows in its wake, and nearby wildlife falls eerily silent. Those who meet its gaze often feel an inexplicable weight settle upon their chest, as though death itself has fixed its attention upon them.
Though it still fights with the ruthless instincts of the outlaw it once was—favoring ambushes, dirty tricks, and swift, crippling strikes—it no longer fears injury or death. Broken bones knit together, severed flesh refuses to stay still, and wounds that would fell any mortal are ignored without hesitation. Every blow it delivers is fueled by relentless vengeance, and every step is driven by a single purpose:
To collect the debt that death itself could not erase.
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