All | Unique
A | B | C | D | E | F | G | H | I | J | K | L | M | N | O | P | Q | R | S | T | U | V | W | X | Y | Z
Families | Templates | Types | Subtypes | Universal Monster Rules

Daemon, Temerdaemon

This creature lurches forward on multiple arms and legs, its spine contorted into a painful curve with its hips higher than it head. Seemingly distracted and muttering to itself, the thing rarely looks up with its glowing red eyes, its hair composed of hundreds of thin, white tendrils that hang over its head like a veil. Strapped onto the creature’s body at various points are sacks and belt pouches stuffed with bizarre collections of objects, and its rear arms wield a wide, black bladed scythe, still coated with the blood of the fiend’s last victim.

Temerdaemon CR 14

Source Book of the Damned - Volume 3: Horsemen of the Apocalypse pg. 58
XP 38,400
NE Large outsider (daemon, evil, extraplanar)
Init +8; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +27
Aura reaper’s curse (30 ft.)


AC 27, touch 13, flat-footed 23 (+4 Dex, +14 natural, –1 size)
hp 195 (17d10+102)
Fort +16, Ref +11, Will +17
DR 10/good and silver; Immune acid, death effects, disease, poison; Resist cold 10, electricity 10, fire 10; SR 25


Speed 30 ft.
Melee +1 scythe +24/+19/+14/+9 (2d4+10/×4 plus confusion), 2 claws +22 (1d4+6 plus confusion)
Space 10 ft., Reach 10 ft.
Special Attacks confusion
Spell-Like Abilities (CL 17th; concentration +22)
At will—bestow curse (DC 19), death knell (DC 17), gaseous form, passwall, stone shape, telekinesis
3/day—disintegrate (DC 21), greater dispel magic, illusory wall, suggestion (DC 18)
1/day—summon (level 6, 1 hydrodaemon 50%)


Str 23, Dex 18, Con 23, Int 13, Wis 24, Cha 20
Base Atk +17; CMB +24; CMD 38 (42 vs. trip)
Feats Blinding Critical, Cleave, Combat Expertise, Critical Focus, Improved Initiative, Improved Trip, Lightning Reflexes, Power Attack, Weapon Focus (scythe)
Skills Bluff +25, Climb +26, Intimidate +25, Knowledge (planes) +13, Knowledge (religion) +12, Perception +27, Sense Motive +27, Stealth +20
Languages Abyssal, Draconic, Infernal; telepathy 100 ft.
SQ undersized weapons


Environment any (Abaddon)
Organization solitary, pair, or trapper gang (3 temerdaemons and 15–30 cacodaemons)
Treasure standard (+1 scythe, other treasure)

Special Abilities

Confusion (Su) Creatures struck in combat by a temerdaemon’s claws or scythe must succeed at a DC 25 Will save or be confused for 1 round. This is a mind-affecting effect. The save DC is Charisma-based.

Reaper’s Curse (Su) Those in proximity to a temerdaemon are afflicted by a profound increase in self-inflicted and ally-inflicted wounds, failures in magic, and similar accidental damage. Arcane spell failure chances for armor are doubled. A creature that rolls a natural 1 on its attack roll automatically rerolls the attack against itself (01–50%) or an ally (51–100%). If there is no ally in range, the attack always targets the creature. A creature that rolls a natural 1 on its roll to cast defensively suffers a mishap (see Scroll Mishaps, Core Rulebook 491). Skill checks that have serious consequences if failed by 5 or more (such as Climb, Disable Device, and Swim) have these consequences on all failed checks.


Temerdaemons personify the concept of accidental death. A knight falls upon her sword, a peasant trips and breaks his neck, a structure fails in ways its builders never foresaw and buries dozens of innocents, and meanwhile, a distant temerdaemon cackles knowingly. While true accidents please the fiend, it also delights in engineering the mishaps itself, crafting incomprehensibly complex plots that lead to the slaughter of as many mortals as possible. A temerdaemon often wades into the aftermath of such engineered catastrophes, carving apart the crippled survivors and sowing mass confusion and hysteria by its very proximity.

A gangly mass consisting of a rotund torso, four arms, and four legs, the average temerdaemon is 10 feet long and weighs 1,200 pounds, not counting its bizarre collection of mechanical fetishes and tinkering equipment.


Lesser fiends who follow in an existing temerdaemon’s wake and learn from the daemon’s actions are those most typically chosen by one of the Four Horsemen or a member of the daemonic elite for elevation into this terrible caste of crippled giants. Occasionally, however, an evil mortal soul proves worthy of such a station, having died in a singularly horrific accident, especially one engineered by its own hands. In such cases, transition from soul to temerdaemon is swift—on a cosmic scale—and made even swifter by a proclivity to prey upon other mortals.

Though Zyphus—the god of accidental deaths and tragedies—is thought by some to be the conceptual father of temerdaemons, the Grim Harvestman has never outright claimed responsibility for them. Nonetheless, he frequently delights in temerdaemons and the infrequent unconsumed souls they send his way. Neither Zyphus nor the temerdaemons seek to disrupt the other’s claim over particular souls; they find the destinations of such tragically doomed mortals frequently cross paths, and are as likely to end up in the hands of daemons as the god’s minions.

Cultists of Zyphus often revel in the doings of temerdaemons, though the daemons themselves despise such worship by the very mortals they seek to destroy. Even slaying these foolish accident-worshipers is hardly enough for the angry temerdaemons, as the daemons’ masterfully constructed accidents are wasted on those who actually hope for the horrid events. According to temerdaemons, freak accidents are best engineered for those who go about life with little concern for danger, especially those who least expect such misfortune to befall them. People who watch their backs—including paranoids and betrayers—don’t satisfy the morbid desires of temerdaemons as much as the daydreaming child or absent-minded village idiot.

No two temerdaemons look exactly the same, as these treacherous beings take on as many forms as there are ways to freakishly die. Particularly powerful individuals may rise to enormous sizes, possessing dozens of legs and arms, as well as multiple heads, all of which strive to wreak as much disaster as possible upon the souls around them.

Habitat & Society

Temerdaemons wander the multiverse in search of opportunities for sabotage and treachery. Those cultists of Zyphus foolish enough to summon the daemons in hopes of bargaining with them for their services often f ind themselves victims of their own elaborate rituals. In their most fortunate cases, a temerdaemon arises on the Material Plane only to greet its summoners with its wicked smile and deadly aura, causing chandeliers to fall upon unwary victims’ heads, robed priests to trip onto sharp candelabras, and sconces to break off of walls and ignite dusty curtains to set an entire building on fire. Now on the Material Plane, its summoners dead, a temerdaemon strives to create as much havoc and mischief as possible before being banished to its home in Abaddon. If it weren’t for the extravagant and terrif ically tragic manner of his worshipers’ deaths, Zyphus might be rather displeased with the actions of these cunning daemons, but as it stands, there is rarely conflict between the two forces, which inadvertently share similar goals.

Temerdaemons rarely cooperate among themselves when crafting masterful hazards, preferring to enact their deadly accidents on their own and later boast to their kindred of their massacres. No two accidents are alike, and though temerdaemons sometimes gather in groups of two or three for particularly elaborate schemes, they have no reason to share their techniques or formulate plans for long, as premeditating a particular slaughter is entirely counterproductive in the eyes of a temerdaemon. To these improvisational fiends, an accidental murder is even more satisfying than a mere accidental death.

Despite their preference to act alone, temerdaemons at times happily utilize some of their lesser kindred as unwitting cogs in their disastrous plans. Particular among these pawns are the miniscule cacodaemons, which frequently cluster in numbers of up to a dozen around a given temerdaemon, ready to absorb and regurgitate the souls of their greater kindred’s kills. When a temerdaemon cannot attract cacodaemon followers, it simply captures them, and any given temerdaemon of considerable power can often be found with dozens of these least daemons impaled on barbed hooks, stuffed into tightly drawn satchels, or crammed into small cages, each container dangling from its myriad straps, belts, and holsters.

Creatures in "Daemon" Category



Source Bestiary 2 pg. 62
Harbingers of ruin and embodiments of the worst ways to die, daemons epitomize painful death, the all-consuming hunger of evil, and the utter annihilation of life. While demons seek to pervert and destroy in endless unholy rampages, and devils vex and enslave in hopes of corrupting mortals, daemons seek only to consume mortal life itself. While some use brute force to despoil life or prey upon vulnerable souls, others wage campaigns of deceit to draw whole realms into ruin. With each life claimed and each atrocity meted out, daemons spread fear, mistrust, and despair, tarnishing the luster of existence and drawing the planes ever closer to their final, ultimate ruin.

Notorious for their hatred of the living, daemons are the things of dark dreams and fearful tales, as their ultimate ambitions include extinguishing every individual mortal life—and the more violent or terrible the end, the better. Their methods vary wildly, typically differentiated by daemonic breed. Many seek to infiltrate the mortal plane and sow death by their own taloned hands, while others manipulate agents (both mortal and immortal) as malevolent puppet masters, instigating calamities on massive scales from their grim realms. Such diversity of methods causes many planar scholars to misattribute the machinations of daemons to other types of fiends. These often deadly mistakes are further propagated by daemons' frequent dealings with and manipulation of other outsiders. Yet in all cases, despair, ruin, and death, spreading like contagion, typify the touch of daemonkind, though such symptoms often prove recognizable only after the hour is far too late.

Daemons flourish upon the plane of Abaddon, a bleak expanse of cold mists, fearful shapes, and hunted souls. Upon these wastes, the souls of evil mortals flee predation by the native fiends, and terror and the powers of the evil plane eventually transform the most ruthless into daemons themselves. Amid these scarred wastelands, poison swamps, and realms of endless night rise the foul domains of the tyrants of daemonkind, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Lords of devastation, these powerful and unique daemons desire slaughter, ruin, and death on a cosmic scale, and drive hordes of their lesser kin to spread terror and sorrow across the planes. Although the Horsemen share a singular goal, their tactics and ambitions vary widely.

Along with mastery over vast realms, the Horsemen are served by unimaginably enormous armies of their lesser brethren, but are obeyed most closely by retinues of daemons enslaved to their titles. These specific strains of daemonic servitors, known among daemonkind as deacons, serve whoever holds the title of Horseman. Although these instruments of the archdaemons differ in strength and ability, their numbers provide their lords with legions capable of near-equal terrorization.

More so than among any other fiendish race, several breeds of daemons lust after souls. While other foul inhabitants of the planes seek the corruption and destruction of living essences, many daemons value possession and control over mortal animas, entrapping and hoarding souls—and in so doing disrupting the natural progression of life and perverting the quintessence of creation to serve their own terrible whims. While not all daemons possess the ability to steal a mortal being's soul and turn it to their use, the lowliest of daemonkind, the maniacal cacodaemons, endlessly seek life essences to consume and imprison. These base daemons enthusiastically serve their more powerful kin, eager for increased opportunities to doom mortal spirits. While cacodaemons place little value upon the souls they imprison, greater daemons eagerly gather them as trophies, fuel for terrible rites, or offerings to curry the favor of their lords. Several breeds of daemons also posses their own notorious abilities to capture mortal spirits or draw upon the power of souls, turning the forces of utter annihilation to their own sinister ends.

The Four Horsemen

Four dread lords, infamous across all the planes, rule the disparate hordes of daemonkind. Risen from among the ranks of their terrible brethren to displace those fiendish tyrants before them, they are the archdaemons, the End Bringers, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. In the blasphemous annals of fiendish lore, they are the prophesied architects of multiversal ruin, destined to stand triumphant over cadaverous cosmoses and infinities of silence before also giving way to absolute oblivion. Undisputed in his power among their kind, each Horseman rules a vast realm upon the bleak plains of Abaddon and a distinctive method of mortal ruin: pestilence, famine, war, or death from old age. Yet while each archdaemon commands measureless influence, daemons know nothing of loyalty and serve only those they cannot overcome. Thus, though the Horsemen stand peerless in their power and manipulations among daemonkind, they must ever defend their thrones from the machinations of ambitious underlings and the plots of other archdaemons.

Upon the poisonous expanses of Abaddon, lesser daemonic peers carve petty fiefdoms and posture as lords, but despite their world-spanning intrigues, all bow before the Horsemen—though most do so only grudgingly. Ancient myths also tell of a mysterious fifth Horseman, the Oinodaemon, though nearly all mention of such a creature has been scoured from the multiverse.