Dreams and Fevers

When death comes, when the five part self is undone, the will is the last thing to be scattered. It’s spent its whole life constrained, scheming, tearing out its feathers. It might not want to go. Especially if its mighty or stubborn or oafish. Especially if it has an ax to grind. Especially if it's disappointed in its progeny. Especially if death comes when you're at home with your eyes open.

These people are called Again Walkers. When they stand up in their graves they look as they did in life. Their flesh is blue as hell and the stench of the barrow is upon them. Their eyes are full of the light of the next world.

An Again Walker is all the worst parts of a person come back from the dead. Every grudge, every repression, every evil urge exaggerated and starved and let loose. The only things left are coldness and envy and malice.

An Again Walker is never just a walking corpse. An Again Walker is a wound which never healed. An Again Walker is the ghost of a family’s shame. An Again Walker is a circle reaching for a conclusion.

An Again Walker won't kill you. She'll ride your cattle until their backs crack in two. She'll tear your sheep into wooly chunks. She'll pull your hay out to soak in the rain. She'll sing her death songs so loud that you can't get a wink of sleep. And then she'll kick the head straight off your dog and nail him to your door. She'll leave you alone in the day, sure, but if she has a grudge she'll follow you to the ends of the earth and wait until you're destitute to finally snap your neck as she laughs her stinking laugh and stares with her endless eyes.

When a person dies their self breaks and flies across the dreaming world. All the parts are frightened, spinning and whirling, all except memory.  It knows where to go. It flies across the vast expanse of the dream, over the river of death, to that cold, quiet land from which none return. The other parts are less astute, they have other places to go, bodies of descendants to take root in, halls of ancestors to return to. If a shaman does not guide these parts to their proper home then they might return to their useless skin and try to make it move. Shuddering to half-life, cold, unwhole. This is how the Nameless Dead are born, usually.

Sometimes when a hard fall is taken, when an arrow goes right past the heart, when you lose your breath for just a moment too long your whole self is thrown in disarray. Are we dead? Do we live? You might lay for days, in a shallow grave, not sure of anything. When your parts are all in order, when you rise again, you are missing something. You are not quiet yourself. Not alive. Not whole. Your memory has gone ahead to the land of death without the rest of you. You too are one of the Nameless Dead.

The Nameless Dead wander the world aimlessly. Their faces are all strangely blank, impossible to keep fixed in your mind. When war rages across the steppe or strikes through the forests of the upper river, they follow the war path like scavenging animals. They dig up the recently dead, feeling over the cold flesh, sucking up what dregs of vital energy remain. They wander through looted homesteads, basking in the ashes of extinguished fires. Their skin is like ice, to feel it is to have your life ripped from you, into them. They do not know they can do this. They just grab and grab, so amazed to feel warm again, to be touched again like this. Is that what it felt like? Before?

How soft you are Love and Pain by Edvard Munch, 1895

They also scavenge for memories. They cannot remember, by definition, but the other parts of the self can still recall being whole. It’s an odd sensation. Each piece knows something different about the past, they cannot agree. They are desperate to feel like a self again, to be somebody instead of this nobody. They pick up trinkets and mementos. They tell themselves stories. This is my walking stick. It was my mother’s walking stick. Now it is mine. Me. I am me. These things become full of memories, heavy with connections and false recollections. One of the Nameless Dead could talk to you for hours about themselves, all their stories, all their friends, in all their objects so lovingly held. They like to hear about your memories too. They can see it, fluttering in you, making you who you are. Somewhere, deep inside themselves, they know they can pull it out of you, like hot air being sucked out of a tent when the flap is opened. It is an instinct not a choice. They must be whole again.

1 in 12 of the Nameless Dead are technically alive, just clutching to life. 

Nameless Dead

Medium Undead, Evil

Armor Class: 12

Hitpoints: 17 (4d8)

Speed: 30ft
STR 12 (+1) DEX 14 (+2) CON 10 INT 10 WIS 12 (+1) CHA 1 (-5)

Damage Immunities: Poison, Necrotic
Condition Immunities: Charmed, Exhaustion, Poisoned

Senses: Darkvision 60 Ft., passive Perception 11

Languages: Whatever it knew in life

Challenge Rating: 1 (200 XP)

Tell me your name. The Nameless Dead have advantage on all attack rolls against creatures whose name it knows. (A note on names: Any title which would cause your ears to perk up if you heard it counts as your name. Even a pseudonym may become a real name if its internalized.)

Still hanging on. All effects which detect the undead (such as Detect Good and Evil) have a 3 in 6 chance of failing to identify the Nameless Dead or of identifying them as living if possible.

Actions:

Draining Touch. Melee Weapon Attack: +2 to hit, reach 5ft, Hit 2d4+2 necrotic damage. The Nameless Dead regains hitpoints equal to half the amount of damage dealt by this attack. Any physical contact a living creature makes with the Nameless Dead (such as grappling it or being grappled by it) causes this attack to automatically hit them. So long as contact is maintained, the living creature is hit by this attack at the start of their turn until contact ends.

Eat Memory. The Nameless Dead may attempt to steal the Memory of an unconscious humanoid it can touch and whose name it knows. The humanoid must succeed a DC 16 Charisma saving throw or lose their memory. Without a Memory:

If the Nameless Dead is killed, then the memory it has stolen escapes and is lost in the spirit world, a shaman can retrieve it in exchange for  10d20 gp in gifts and one favor, to be rendered at a later date. The Shaman will then enter a trance to find and return the missing piece, which takes 1d6 days.

 A shaman can also return the stolen memory to your self over the course of a few hours for half the cost if you can bring the Nameless Dead, stolen memory and all, to them. This ceremony will destroy the Nameless Dead. 

I am me. Don't you remember? (Source)

Don’t be naïve. Having the wrong memory is worse than having none. There are scars vividly remembered which don’t appear on the skin. There are thoughts deeply known which the will cannot construct. There are ghosts of passions which the follower cannot understand. There is a terrible sensation. It’s hard to describe. You are you. You are not you, you are somebody else.

Once fitted with a stolen memory, the Nameless Dead wanders back to a home it never knew. It is remembered, connected to false relatives and friends. A beloved daughter returns from battle. A child taken in a raid finds his way back home. A lost farmhand stumbles out of the bush. A spurned lover comes crawling back. Were they this tall? Was he this thin, this pale? Did she talk like that? Was her skin always this cold? Does it really matter? We’re all safe, together again.

This is how a Name Eater is born. It grows fat off of siphoned life force and learns better how to control its growing powers. It is aware of its double nature, of the incongruity within its self. It knows it should be someone else. Here are all these freshly familiar faces. They look so happy. One of them must have the right piece. 

Name Eater

A person is a question. Now answer me. (Source)

Items:

1. A feather from Desires-to-Know. A large raven’s feather which glitters all colours in the moonlight. Hold it and you will remember everything perfectly. Burn it and inhale the smoke and you will learn one secret. Roll 1d4: 1. The location of a forgotten treasure 2. The secret weakness of a powerful monster 3. The name of an ancient ancestor 4. The greatest fear of a great leader

2. A stone from the bank of the River of Death. It is round, blue, cold as ice. If you clench it in your hand its chill flows through your body. The dead and the undead will recognize you as one of their own.

3. A swan feather. Long and white, running your finger through the barbs makes them crackle with cold electricity. Carry it on you and your self cannot be broken in the mortal world. However, death is closer to you. To succeed a death save you must roll a 13 or higher.

4. A piece of a hero. He was chopped up and thrown in the river a long time ago. This is a part of him, his viscera and his bone. Anybody who eats it is put into a coma forever. They do not age and cannot die. If a whole village and all its livestock mourn for the comatose person for a week they will wake. They will tell you death was the best sleep they've ever had.

It is written in a book with pages like thin white tissue:

“And so Petrus went among the slaves of King Aerom’s court, preaching deliverance from hunger and from tiredness and from hopelessness. The bonded men and women gathered around Petrus and the poor and the needy from far away followed him. Partaking of the Sacrament of Spiced Meat, all were cleansed of that which makes mortal life unbearable and so became devoted disciples of Petrus. The holy man wore robes of wool bound with a simple length of cord in which he kept his saw and his butchering knife, he only sustained himself by the sacraments offered to him, and he smelt of sugar and cinnamon and sweat. This is what he taught to those assembled: ‘I have given you communion from my own flesh and made you my kindred, but to receive and not give is folly.’

And then the Spirit arose from Within Petrus and tore his flesh asunder. The Flesh spoke, saying: ‘Rejoice, for to love is to lack and you lack everything! Feast and be feasted upon!’

At this, King Aerom looked down from his balcony and was aghast. And none could stop the tide of those who had ears to hear the Spirit and mouths to taste the Flesh.”

They are the Devouring Priests, always maimed and always ragged. Theirs is the faith of the crook and the knife. In Voich they are called Disciples of the Empty Belly, but in every land they choose a new name. They need no temples. They carry with them the heart of their worship: the place where the Flesh and Spirit meet, a mouth. It opens from the Priest's chest. Its lips are a scar reaching from shoulder to waist. Its teeth are wide and sharp. Its saliva is dark and sweet, like molasses. The tongue varies, horribly so. It may be an arm, a leg, an eye, it is a mark of the Priest's own order.

They offer a blessed sacrament, always meat and never bread. It is sweet and fragrant, like honey. It is the flesh of men. When you partake of it, you hear a deep voice in your ears, like a whisper. It is so calm, so loving, so reasonable, so silent. So long as you can hear and are within 120ft of the Priest, you are charmed by him and his disciples. This lasts for a day.

The voice compels you to eat more. It is hard to say no. When you have consumed a whole limb’s worth of flesh you become a disciple of the Priest. The voice swells in your ears, you hear it everywhere, it is inside you. This can take a week, 3 days if there’s a rush. Give your character sheet to the DM, you do not need it anymore. Your flesh will feed others.

The Devouring Priest requires his sacrament. He needs not food or drink, he is a kind of ascetic. He must feed the body of a person to the mouth in his chest each week. This is a sacred duty, his disciples, who hear his voice, who have their feet washed and their bellies filled by him, kneel before him as the muscled jaws of his body stretch open. If he cannot feed, he loses the ability to cast spells and perform miracles. He withers. He gains a point of exhaustion each day until he has 5.

Where is the lamb? Behold, it is before you. (Source)

The Devouring Priest has come to your doorstep. You have found him in the wilderness. He has brought his faith with him. He is concealing his scar, the tabernacle of his body. What is he like? Roll 2d6 to determine how the Priest is maimed and unmaimed and what he yearns for. 

Devouring Priest

Medium Humanoid, Lawful Evil (I don't really use alignment in my games, but you might)

Armor Class: 16 (Chainmail)

Hitpoints: 62 (12d8+8)

Speed: 30 ft

STR 14 (+2) DEX 9 (-1) CON 16 (+3) INT 12 (+1) WIS 16 (+3) CHA 15 (+2)

Saving Throws: WIS +5 CHA +4

Skills: Religion +5, Deception +6, Persuasion +6, Perception +5, Athletics +4

Senses: Darkvision 30ft, passive perception 15

Languages: Trade Tongue, Pomroy Patois (or Common and some foreign tongue) 

Challenge: 4? (1100 XP)

Spellcasting. The priest is a 5^th level spellcaster. Their spellcasting ability is Wisdom (spell save is DC 13, +5 to hit with spell attacks). The Priest has the following spells prepared. He does not need verbal components to cast spells, his 2nd mouth does all the incantations.

Cantrips: Guidance, Sacred Flame, Thaumaturgy, Spare the Dying

Level 1 (4 slots): Cure Wounds, Shield of Faith, Command, Sanctuary

Level 2 (3 slots): Hold Person, Calm Emotions, Hungry Touch

Level 3 (2 slots): Wither, Mass Healing Word
(See 'New Spells' below for Hungry Touch and Wither)

Face of Hunger: The Priest's mouth is usually closed and hidden, he must use an action to fully open it and cannot move on a turn in which he does so. His mouth must be open in order to use his Bite and Consume actions or to use the limb inside his mouth. When the Devouring Priest is reduced to half his hitpoints (31) or below the mouth in his chest is revealed and opens automatically. It vomits a mixture of blood and dark, sweet saliva.

Actions:

Heavy Crook. Melee Weapon Attack: +4 to hit, reach 5ft, one target. Hit: 1d8+2 bludgeoning damage

Dagger. Melee Weapon Attack: +4 to hit, reach 5ft, one target. Hit: 1d4+2 piercing damage

Bite. Melee Weapon Attack: +6 to hit, reach 5ft, one target. Hit: 1d10+4 slashing damage.

Consume. As a bonus action, the Priest partakes of the flesh of a living disciple adjacent to him. The Priest regains 2d8+4 HP, the disciple then takes that much slashing damage +5

He is maimed and unmaimed. Something was taken from him and something greater was given. It is a mark of his particular conviction.

1.  The sheep must never stray far. A strong grip makes this so.
He is missing an arm. He has disadvantage on checks which require 2 hands.
His mouth contains a long arm with five strong fingers. It has a strength of 18, has a total of +8 to athletics checks, and may attempt to grapple a creature as a bonus action. Whenever the priest makes a melee attack he may make an additional one with his extra arm.

2. Unity is kept through scrutiny. If they wander, he shall know.
He is missing both eyes, blinded. He will have a disciple close, to guide him.
His mouth contains a huge eye, purple where it should be white, a pupil like gold. He gains blindsight 10ft around all his disciples. When the priest's mouth is open, he gains darkvision 90ft and truesight. As a bonus action, the Priest may scrutinize a creature with his eye. The target must succeed a Charisma saving throw (against his spell save DC) or become paralyzed as the Priest invades their mind until the end of their next turn. The Priest learns the target's deepest fears and closest secrets this way.

3. Our faith is a wandering one. He must never stay in one place long.
He is missing a leg. He moves at half speed (15 ft). He uses a simple prosthetic.
His mouth contains a twisted leg, all muscle, joints moving every which way. While his mouth is open, the Priest's speed's increases to 40ft and he does not provoke opportunity attacks. As a bonus action, he may attempt to sweep all creatures adjacent to him off their feet. They all must succeed a Dexterity saving throw (against the Priest's spell save DC) or be knocked prone and take 1d6+2 bludgeoning damage.

4. The soul of the faith is the voice. He shall sing for all the world.
He is missing his tongue. He cannot speak. He may have a disciple to talk for him. 
His mouth contains a long, sticky, purple-black tongue. When his mouth is open, even those who have not tasted the Sacrament can hear the Priest's voice. You cannot help but find it beautiful. As a bonus action, the Priest can speak in enchanting tongues. All creatures who can hear him must succeed a Wisdom save (against his spell save DC) or are unable to intentionally harm the Priest and cannot defend themselves against melee attacks the Priest makes against them until the end of their turn.

5. The Spirit turns all weakness to strength. From infirmness he finds fermity.
He is missing a vital organ. He looks sickly. He makes Con and Str saves at disadvantage.
His mouth contains an amalgam of grey-purple tubes and lobes. Like the liver and the lungs and the heart bred together. When his mouth is open, everyone can hear their hearts beating in their ears and all their organs convulsing within them. Everyone who can hear the priest makes all saving throws at disadvantage. As a bonus action, the Priest can spew sweet bile at a creature, treat as a ranged spell attack. On a hit, the target takes 1d6 acid damage and the Priest's disciples gain plus +1 to attack rolls and damage rolls against the target, this stacks and can only be ended by washing the bile off.

6. Eyes deceive as much as words, as much as ears. He lives by faith alone.
He is missing his entire head. The stump of his neck continues to bleed. He is blind, deaf, mute.
His mouth contains a malformed head. It has perfect black orbs for eyes. Teeth like razor blades. When the Priest's mouth is open, he regains the use of all his senses and speech. His two voices harmonize perfectly, Disciples of the Priest gain advantage on all attack rolls and ability checks. As a bonus action, the Priest may drive all Disiples into a frenzy,  they may make a melee attack as a reaction against a creature adjacent to them.
(This is a very rare sect, if you roll this option first, reroll)

He yearns not just for flesh, but for something more.

1. He yearns for information. He keeps well connected socialites close to him. When he tastes the blood of a humanoid, he may gain a whole day's worth of their memories. These memories can be kept into perpetuity.

2. He yearns for truth. He keeps sages and wise men close to him. When he tastes the blood of a humanoid, he may gain a spell they know of 3rd level or below for a day. 

3. He yearns for experience. He keeps people skilled in every craft close to him. When he tastes the blood of a humanoid, he may gain the use of a class trait they posses (such as a fighter's Action Surge or a paladin's Divine Sense). He may only gain one trait at a time this way and can't gain Spellcasting. 

4.  He yearns for perfection. He keeps those who excel in every quality close to him. When he tastes the blood of a humanoid, he may increase one of his ability scores so that it matches that of the person who's blood he tasted. He may only have one score increased at a time.

5. He yearns for culture. He keeps all manner of people from all places with him. When he tastes the blood of a humanoid, he may gain one the traits they gain from their heritage (Such as a Dwarf's Dwarven Resilience or a Rowing Person's Wide Eyes). He may only gain one trait at a time this way.

6. He yearns for devotion. He keeps many people close and none can leave him. When he tastes the blood of a humanoid, he gains the ability to track that creature perfectly and his attacks against them cannot have disadvantage. This effect lasts for two days.

It is written in a book with ink of auburn:

"That day the Anointed One had fled to the hills where the shepherds plied their trade, and indeed a great many people had followed him. He told them many things in parables, saying: 'Look upon that herdsman. Though he be a servant to one man, he does toil day and night not for his own welfare but for the creatures under his care. Though he carries his crook in his left hand, at his right is a knife.'"

Who are you to stay my hand? (Source)

He does not come alone. His Disciples follow him. They could be anyone. They remain themselves, in some ways, placid but happy expressions, old edges made smooth. They will always follow the Devouring Priest's commands and will never flee or suffer from cowardice.

 Most are maimed, their flesh needed to feed others, give them a major injury from your preferred death and dismemberment table (let me volunteer my own). If you need to run a large number of Disciples, run them all as having the same, vague, major disadvantage like disadvantage on Strength rolls, or all as having 1 hand because of both missing arms and needing a free arm to hold a crutch, whatever you feel is appropriate.

The Priest knows the value of protection. He may have unmaimed Disciples who were once soldiers or mercenaries to guard him.

The Priest may create an equal. He will take a time to prepare, eating 10 of his followers in 10 days. He will take one of his Disciples and cut them open, a laceration reaching from shoulder to waist. He pours himself into them, dark saliva and seeds of a foreign flesh. There is much chanting and jubilation. This is a kind of marriage. It takes 3 hours. The scar will heal quickly and in a week it will open, a new Devouring Priest is born. The maiming comes afterward, when it is time for a new congregation to be gathered, when the first sacrament must be prepared.

Many fleshes, one faith Illustration by Harry Clarke, from Faust

Devouring Priests grow as their congregation grows. His voice will become greater, the bond he shares with his Disciples deeper. He gains spell slots and cantrips as a Cleric does and he learns new spells from the Cleric's spell list. When the congregation shrinks, the benefits the Priest and his Disciples enjoy take 3 days to disappear.

The Faith of the Crook and the Knife will spread using all the tactics of a plague and with all the grace of a modern cult. They spurn public displays until they have a critical mass and spread whispers of dissent, of secret answers and initiations.

It is unlikely that a single Priest will assemble more than ~170 Disciples. The cult will split into new segments as new Priests are created and it will take a long time for one Priest to prepare the sacrament required to acquire so many followers.

0: No benefits. The cult must grow.
20~ (about the size of an extended family): All Disciples gain +1 to all saves. Priest's health increases by 10.
40~ (about the size of a small war-party): The Priest becomes a 6th level spell caster.
80~ (about the size of a large merchant caravan): All Disciples gain +1 to hit. The Priest becomes a 7th level spell caster.
170~ (about the population of a small village): The Priest's voice takes on a new confidence. Though still silent to the uninitiated, it can effect the devoted and the infidel in new ways.  Roll a d6 on the table below.

1. His voice is louder. Whenever he casts a spell of 1st level or higher, all enemies who can hear him must pass a Wisdom saving throw (against the Priest's spell save) or take 1d6 psychic damage.

2. His voice is more horrible. Whenever he casts a spell of 1st level or higher, an enemy who can hear him must pass a Wisdom saving throw or become frightened of the Priest until the end of their next turn.

3. His rhetoric is more mocking. Whenever he casts a spell of 1st level or higher, an enemy who can hear him must pass a Wisdom saving throw or be compelled by rage to move their speed towards the Priest, avoiding dangerous terrain if able.

4. His rhetoric is more extreme. Whenever he casts a spell of 1st level or higher, two allies who can hear him gain advantage on their next attack roll.

5. His voice is more soothing. Whenever he casts a spell of 1st level or higher, two allies who can hear him may regain 1d4 hitpoints.

6. His rhetoric is more uplifting. Whenever he casts a spell of 1st level or higher, all allies who can hear him may make another saving throw against negative effects which require a save to end.

350~(about the size of a hamlet): The Priest gains 25 health. His Disciples gain Pack Tactics.

700~(about the population of a small town): The Priest's ambitions grow. Roll a d6 to give the Priest a new yearning. If you roll a yearning the Priest already possesses, then his desire deepens. Whatever he gains by tasting the blood of a humanoid, he may also cause the humanoid to lose. For example, if he yearns for information, he may cause people to lose the memories he gains from them. For the yearnings for which this principle is not obvious:
Yearns for perfection: Victims have the ability score the Priest steals reduced to 10
Yearns for devotion: Victims forget all the places where they have friends or allies
Anything stolen by the Priest is returned when the Priest dies or after 2 days.

1900~(about the size of a medium sized town): The Priest is now a 9th level spell caster. His Disciples gain +1 to their unarmored AC. The Priest's voice becomes greater again, roll a d6 on the table above, rerolling if you get a trait which the Priest already posses.

4000~(about the size of a large town): The Priest becomes a 11th level spell caster. His ambition explodes. Roll for 2 new yearnings. He gains 25 HP.

9000~(a small city): A metamorphosis, perhaps a crisis of opinion. The Priest gains a new organ/limb in his mouth, roll on the Maimed and Unmaimed table again but don't apply the maiming portion.

18000~(a large city):
It is written in a book with a spine of ivory:

"What of the world to come? Even if you knew all, saw all, and were prepared for all, you could not fathom it. For now we see each other as in a mirror, dimly. Then we shall be face to face and flesh to flesh and all these mysteries will fade. " 

Once in his life, the Priest may consume 1000 of his followers in a ritual frenzy over the course of a week in order issue forth from his body, in a process which is similar to a snake unhinging its jaws, an ANGEL OF HUNGER. 

ANGEL OF HUNGER. 
100 ARMS. 12 WINGS. TOO MANY MOUTHS TO COUNT, ALL GNASHING, ALL WANTING. ALL MANNERS OF TEETH AND ALL VARIETIES OF DESIRE WHICH CANNOT BE SATISFIED. 
LARGE. CELESTIAL. LAWFUL EVIL. 
AC 15 (NATURAL ARMOR) HP: 111 SPEED: 30, 90 FLY
+5 IN ALL ABILITY SCORES.
+6 TO ALL SAVING THROWS.
DAMAGE IMMUNITIES: ALL WEAPONS WHICH HAVE NOT BEEN USED TO COMMIT MURDER OR AS CUTLERY IN A CANNIBAL FEAST CANNOT HARM THE ANGEL

IMMACULATE IN ALL WAYS: THE ANGEL HAS ADVANTAGE ON ALL SAVING THROWS

THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE: EVERY HUMANOID IN A MILE OF THE ANGEL MUST SUCCEED A DC 15 WISDOM SAVING THROW OR BE OVERCOME WITH CANNIBALISTIC FRENZY FOR A DAY. AT THE START OF EACH DAY, ALL THOSE WITHIN A MILE OF THE ANGEL MUST SAVE AGAIN.  IF YOU SUCCEED THE SAVE, YOUR DEEPEST DESIRE BECOMES CLEAR TO YOU, IT MAY NOT BE WHAT YOU ENVISIONED. 

LET THY LIPS BE FRESH WITH PRAISE: NOBODY IN A MILE OF THE ANGEL CAN LIE OR UTTER HALF TRUTHS. THEIR MOUTHS FILL WITH FETID BLOOD IF THEY TRY. 

ACTIONS: 

RAPTUROUS VOICE: THE ANGEL TELLS YOU SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL. ALL CREATURES WHO CAN HEAR THE ANGEL MUST SUCCEED A DC 15 CONSTITUTION SAVING THROW OR TAKE 4D8 PSYCHIC DAMAGE. 

KNIFE LIKE NO OTHER: THE ANGEL MAKES 3 MELEE WEAPON ATTACKS AGAINST A SINGLE TARGET: +8 TO HIT, REACH 10ft, 3D8+5 SLASHING DAMAGE

TIDE OF FLESH: THE ANGEL SINGS TO THE VERY EARTH. A 15x15ft CUBE OF NON-SENTIENT MATERIAL TRANSFORMS INTO WRITHING MEAT. IT IS DIFFICULT TERRAIN. ALL CREATURES WHO BEGIN THEIR TURNS ADJACENT TO IT MUST SUCCEED A DC 16 DEXTERITY SAVING THROW OR BECOME GRAPPLED AND RESTRAINED. THEY MAY ATTEMPT THE SAVE AGAIN AT THE END OF THEIR TURN. 

ALL WRITHE (1/PER MONTH): THE ANGEL CASTS WITHER ON ALL HUMANOIDS IT CAN SEE. IT'S SPELL SAVE IS 15. 

GLORIOUS CONVOCATION (1/PER WEEK): THE ANGEL DRIPS A DROPLET OF SWEET AMBROSIA INTO THE MOUTH OF A HUMANOID ADJACENT TO IT. THEY MAY ATTEMPT A DC 17 DEXTERITY SAVING THROW. IF THE HONEY TOUCHES THEIR TONGUE, THEY BECOME A DEVOURING PRIEST IN A WEEK.

New Spells:

Hungry Touch, 2^nd Level Necromancy

Casting Time: 1 Action, Range: Touch, Components: V, S, Duration: Concentration up to 10 minutes

You lay your hand on a creature. They begin to feel starved, as if they've been without food for 2+your proficiency bonus days, and gain points of exhaustion appropriate to the number of days they've been effectively starved for (a creature can go 3+their constitution modifier days without food before they begin to gain a point of exhaustion for each day spent starving beyond their limit). If you continue to touch the creature they continue to starve, feeling as if they've been without food for an additional day for each round you touch them. The creature cannot gain more than 4 levels of exhaustion this way and may lower their exhaustion level by eating an amount of food equal to that which they would have needed during the time they've been effectively starved for. 

Wither, 3^rd Level Necromancy

Casting Time: 1 Action, Range: 20ft, Components: V, S, Duration: Variable

You call out to the limb of a humanoid which can see and hear you. You command either an arm or a leg to wither. If an arm is targeted, the creature drops anything it’s holding with that arm, if a leg they fall prone. The target must succeed a constitution saving throw or their limb withers and becomes unusable for 1d4 days. If an arm is targeted, the creature has one less usable hand and gains disadvantage on all checks which would require two hands to perform. If a leg is targeted, the target moves at half speed for the duration and has disadvantage on all saves against effects which would knock them prone.

Credit where it's due: This post is based of Zedek Siew's excellent Priests of Want class, which you should go and read now. I've taken the main ideas of his post, the cannibalistic and enthralling sacrament, and added my own twists.