From publisher blurb:
A collection of 21 zombies for you to use in the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game, including the brand new Bile Zombie!
I am a Necromancer.
If you hold this book, then you should be as gifted as I to understand the weight of the term. Once, in the Ages Lost, our kind were revered as the penultimate conduits of knowledge and peace. How many soldiers must perish? How many of our heroes should fall? No matter; send the Necromancer! Heroes of ancient past, armies of deceased neighbors - all in splendid regalia - may return to the battlefield to crush our enemies when the pitiable healers and abjurers could not save them or us. Even those laughable diviners thinking the mind and eye were the foundation of perception failed to see what the ghost knew or the corpse saw. Indeed, the mighty Necromancer was once the champion of Empires. Then, morality stagnated. The pious followers of Galayne or Bethune came to ensure that life was life and death was death. Even the more pathetic followers of Whistus could not see that their Pale Maiden was a gateway which could be crossed in either direction.
Nay, we are Necromancers and we KNOW what the others refuse to see. Perhaps the best spy is the skeleton all nobles hide in their closets; perhaps the best soldier is the one who already gave his life. Yet, despite our displays of power we are reviled by the king, the holy-man and the scholar alike. We are painted into the corner of depraved lunatic with suspicion of grave-robbing, murder, desecration, blasphemy and heresy. We need not murder or grave-rob to acquire our minions when the foolish and tyrannical will send us materials by the wagonload. We need not temples or dieties to offend when we ourselves approach godhead. This is our greatness and this is our heresy: through Necromancy, we gain deification.
So, dear reader, I may be long dead from some paladin's blade. I may be re-awakened by a compatriot only be to eradicated by some priest's chanting. But, I am not gone. I still stir, as bone or spirit, as we all should. For what power should I hail when life and death are meaningless? Of course MY OWN, when I am the one who has made it so. And YOUR power as well, if you be brave enough to use this simple book to demolish the chains preventing your ascension. Through the passage of time, we shall see that one simple fact is the only truth of this world: NECROMANCY MAKES MEN GODS! I only hope you are capable enough to understand the truth.