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Author Topic: creation chain: places & histories  (Read 16231 times)
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smeagol
Bane of Legates
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« on: August 09, 2006, 02:18:41 PM »

I thought it would be a good idea to keep this thread alive (and stickied?)

(author: Dirigible)

You may be familiar with this concept from the Wizards boards or ENworld. If not, it works like this: someone gives you a name, and you create a short description of a site, tale, character, organisation, spell, magic item, creature or other bit of material that might be of use to your fellow Midnighteers from that name. At the end of your post, you put down a name for the next person to work off, and the process continues unto infinity! You can't respond to your own post, of course.

This thread is for locations, nexus, god-touched sites, strongholds of freedom or tyranny, legends, stories and background information.

You don't need to include full stats or rules for whatever you create, but you are welcome to do so if you wish. Alternatively, something you see here might spur you to create a new crunchy thing to submit in its own thread elsewhere.

Have fun! Let the creative juices of AtS flow like some vast, slimy torrent into our collective bowl!

The Oasis of Glass

Sarcosan tales say that once in a while a rider of the Sorshef goes mad, and is cast form the host to crash into the world wreathed in flames. Long ago, this is reputed to have happened at a remote oasis in the southernmost part of the White Desert, where the desolate land gives way to the Asmadarin Channel. There may be some truth to this, because there is a place where the pale sands have been fused be some terrible heat into crude glass, and razor-edged fragments wait to tear at the feet of the unwary. The blackened stumps of ancient trees surround the dried out oasis, now simply a mound that glitters like frost in the sun. Legends say that the glass is suffused with raw magical power, and can prove a boon to magicians.

Rules: A Search check (DC 15) turns up one shard of richly magical glass, plus one for every two points by which the searcher exceeds the DC. The GM can set a maximum number of shards that can be found at any one time (say, 1d6+1). A spellcaster can, by crushing a shard in her hand to mix her blood with the glass (a free action, though it causes her to suffer one point of piercing damage), use it to regain one point of spell energy. She cannot exceed her maximum spell energy like this. If brought within the radius of a Black Mirror, any shards are immediately drained to uselessness.


Next: The Hearthless Hall
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"Il n'est pas besoin d'espérer pour entreprendre ni de réussir pour persévérer" - Devise de la famille d'Orange
smeagol
Bane of Legates
****

Spell Energy / Taint +9/-2
Gender: Male
Posts: 635


Hiding from Shadow


« Reply #1 on: August 09, 2006, 02:19:31 PM »

The Hearthless Hall:

(author: Pheros)

In the Northern Reaches of the Kaladrun Mountains, the orcs have ceded control of the mountains to the ever-encroaching ice. Even before the Last Age, the weak sun had a difficult time melting all of the winter's left-over ice before winter came again to claim it back. Now the sun shines through the clouds above once an arc, if that, and the ice is extending itself further down the mountain, and deeper into it as well.

Through narrow passages and fallen rock, following the path of an underground stream, the ice has crept toward the mountain's heart. With a seeming will of its own, it entered a large hall carved ages ago by a forgotten clan. Anything that once was stone has been replaced by ice, down to the tinyest detail, with the expection of the great hearth at the head of the hall, which has been carefully removed by the ice.

Any Dwarf entering the hall can use their stonecutting ability on the ice just as they would have on stone, though they be be uneasy their entire stay in the Hall. If inspected carefully, they will notice that stone is not covered by ice, but has been completely replaced by ice, with no remaining trace of any stone left.

Even though there is no hearth or fire, the Hall is quite comfortable. Any creature in the Hearthless Hall can be considered to have the Endure Elements feat for the length of their stay. However, this comfort has it's price: the Hall whispers and maons through the night, and only the heaviest sleeper can hope to get a good night's rest. The Shadow cannot explain the sounds, but they are not magical, so the orcs avoid the Hall, fearing it to be the spirits of those they have betrayed. In a sense, this is true: the Hall is a manifestation of the will of Aryth itself: The elves have their Whispering Wood, the Dwarves their Hearthless Hall.

Any dwarf succeeding in a DC 12 Wisdom check will realize that the Hall speaks of secrets of the Shadow, and can learn many useful tidbits, including the location of any troops on or near the full extent of the ice. However, they cannot ask questions of the ice, they can only hear what it decides to tell them, and no more. Even though it knows that the dwarves have long ago abandoned the Northern Kaladrun, the ice still waits patiently for them to return, to speak with them.

Next: The Cavern of the Unbowed
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smeagol
Bane of Legates
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Spell Energy / Taint +9/-2
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Hiding from Shadow


« Reply #2 on: August 09, 2006, 02:20:17 PM »

The Cavern of the Unbowed

Long ago, during the time of years, a terrible war split the elvenkind. Some rebelled against the authority of the High King and wanted to live lives of their own, on their own terms, without serving a monarch.

These exalted beings dreamt of equality, and of abolishing all kinds of authority.

This challenge to the High King could not go unanswered, so words became more and more heated until a schism was born between the individualist elves and the societal elves. Brother turned against brother, son fought father.

Violence soon erupted into full-scale warfare, and the "dark elves" (not meaning a race but rather a bunch of snow, wood, sea and jungle elves), as they were called, being a minority, first killed to defend themselves but after some time they began to see themselves as freedom fighters and did not hesitate to resort to assassination, something that was until then unheard of.

"Elves of light" retaliated in sheer genocide. Raids were led against dark elves encampments, and men, women, children and the elderly were put to the sword.

When all was said and done, the surviving soldiers looked at themselves in horror and swore that it shall never happen again. They recognized the work of Izrador had turned them against their brothers, and they atoned for their sins. It was decided that such bloody events would forever be erased from elven history, so as to keep the purity of their culture unstained in their descendants' eyes.

unknown to most, a lone dark elf survived the slaughter. He managed to hide in a cave deep in the Aruun jungle. There, he swore that his heritage would never be lost. He used his magic to call into the dreams of the unsatsified, until the ones he had chosen came to his cave. He too had recognized the evil ways of his side, and understood that all elves had succumbed to izrador's temptations. But he desired to save the traditions of his fellow dark elves, and taught his apprentices the lost ways of the dark elves.

Soon, these assassins would stalk the night, hunting for potential traitors to the elves. This is hwo many plots against the Witch Queen were thwarted. So far, only Aradil knows of them, but they always refused to bow to her. They only serve what they believe to be the elven people's best interests.

All unbowed are elves, but not limited to the Jungle elves. all have felt the call in their dreams, and, following them, have finally found the Cavern to meet their mentor.

There are no more than 5 Unbowed currently living in Eredane, and all are somehowinvolved in the fight for saving Erethor. One is trying to find a way to assassinate Grial the Fey Killer, another is uncovering a plot against Aradil in Caradul, still another has made a pact with demons from the Aruun to help the elves as they will be able to feed on orcs and goblins. The master is currently teaching his ways to a new apprentice.

Next: Mount Kundahar's dwarf pilgrimage
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smeagol
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« Reply #3 on: August 09, 2006, 02:21:51 PM »

Mount Kundahar's dwarven pilgrimage

(by Dirigible)

The Gravenholme Range is that arm of the Kaladruns that stretches south-west of Idenor, out into the Sea of Pelluria. At its furthest extent, the land and sea mingle in a region of precipitous slopes, jagged cliffs and mountainous islands. The nearest of these islands to shore is Mount Kundahar, separated from land by a hundred-yard wide channel that suffers terrible tides and vicious undertows. At low tide, there is a stony walkway that connects the Gravenholmes to the island's rocky beach, but as the water remains at ebb for only one minute each day, a dwarf would have to run to make it across. Those not up to the challenge must take the longer way through a dank, winding tunnel far underground.

Kundahar has been home to a spiritual refuge for two thousand years. Dwarves seeking peace (in the sense of avoiding battle, anyway... the savage tidal crashings and cold winds of the mountain island are no-ones idea of meditative stillness) first came here to farm the fertile soils in the few narrow clefts and plateaus that would support agriculture and study the ways of stone in relative solitude. Though home to only a few isolated families, the island soon became known for the quality of its worked stone and the fine fruits they produced. The people of Kundahar had a hard time keeping traders away, as profit hungry merchants sought to bridge the gap and start exporting more heavily. The locals did not want to jeopardise their paradise by extensive trade; ideally, they only wanted to deal with other natives of the island.

At last, a compromise was reached. People could come and dwell with them for a few months or years, working the fields and practising the arts of dwarven culture, and when they finally left they would be allowed to take baskets of fruit or crafted gifts for their families. In time, this relationship between the Kundahar sanctuary and the mainland solidified. It became commonplace for nobles and scholars to take a refreshing break amongst the groves and sacred caves of Kundahar, and the place became part shrine and part holiday camp, where visitors could bathe in healing pools and witness displays of expert stone carving and metalwork to sooth the soul.

The refuge was also the site of at least one 'miracle'. In the middle of the Third Age, a plague struck the mountains. It came from the south, carried by tiny parasites in ort-meat but later spreading from dwarf to dwarf, giving them a slow disease that sapped their strength. After five years, only a few had died, but thousands of dwarves were weakened, humiliated by their own meekness and confined to bed. The lack of workers put a restriction on food and mining production, and the orcs began champing at the bit to lay waste to the sick population. When things seemed their darkest, Elsten Gordul, a humble petitioner at Kundahar, claimed he received a vision from Father Sun and Mother Moon. He taught the monks a technique that could cleanse the parasites from a person, and the scholars and craftsmen of the island quickly spread out across the Kaladruns to cure the disease.

When the orcs came, they were expecting an easy victory, and were quickly repulsed by the ranks of bright eyed, defiant dwarven warriors. Following the battle, thousands of dwarves made a pilgrimage to Kundahar to give thanks to the Sun and Moon, and the sanctuary was cemented in the dwarven psyche as a holy place.

At the Last Battle, almost all the monks and healers of Kundahar were wiped out, as they served with their kin on the front lines. Today only a single monk remains on the island, an old woman named Ildeera Yusthar (female clan dwarf Expert 6 / Kundahar Monk 4) and a handful of acolytes. She gladly offers healing, food and safety to any enemies of the Shadow or friends of the dwarven people that find their way to her refuge, and longs to find someone worthy of learning the skills she keeps.

It takes a Knowledge: Surface Kaladruns check with a DC of 20, a Knowledge: Subterranean Kaladruns check with a DC of 25, or a Knowledge: Geography or Lorebook check with a DC of 30 to know the location of the Kundahar monestary.


Next: The Day of No Death
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smeagol
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Gender: Male
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« Reply #4 on: August 09, 2006, 02:22:52 PM »

The Day of No Death
(by Pheros)

It is a rare day when a Legate comes into a small town, and no one dies. Rarer still are the days when the Legate preaches peace and aid. Unaccompanied, Legate Gustav Yorlins entered the small town of Rovin and summoned the elders to the town hall. Two days ride from Sharuun, near the border of Erenland and the Aruun Jungle, the populace of Rovin knew of the war and their new masters, but there was no permanant garrison there. Instead, the town acted as a waystation for orcs scouts entering the Aruun. Most never returned, and the troop movements never amounted to anything more than a trickle. Still, they had had their share of suffering at the hands of even those few orcs. When Legate Gustav rode in, he told them he had made a deal with the Night Kings. Were they to follow his orders, they would be spared any further beatings, touture and death at the hands of Shadowspawn. His melodic voice sang to their hearts, finally giving them all they had hoped for. They easily took up his yoke, and he told them: "Henceforth, you will remember this day as the day pain was banished, as the Day of No Death!" The townspeople were overjoyed: all their prayers had been answered.

But as is said: 'Foolish is the man who agrees to a contract before knowing the terms'

The fools.

All the townsfolk gather around Gustav for the ceremony. He told them he would magically place his mark on them, so the servants of the Dark God would know they were to be left alone. The people pressed in, eager to be free of pain and death. As Gustav spoke the incantation, the sky greyed, and the Sun darkened to the color of dried blood. A cloud of fine, black powder descended upon the townsfolk, covering their skin and clothes, seeping into their bodies. The adults looked expectingly at Gustav, waiting for his signal that they were free, while the children stood uneasy in the falling cloud, uncomfortable with what was going on. Many tried to run away, only to the pulled back by their parents, eager to make sure their children were gifted the same fate as them. Children seem to have an inate understanding for the energy flowing in the world around them, a kind of 6th sense for trouble, but as is so often the case no one listens to them until it is too late.

The cloud finally settled to the ground. Gustav said: "You are free of pain and death as promised, my slaves..." The people were horrified, angry that they could be so obviously deceived. They rose up against Gustav...or rather, tried. As promised, he had removed from them all pain, all chance of death. Hunger and thrist were gone as well. The power of Izrador is great, but Izrador's brush is not known for its delicacy, or precision. The people had also lost all love, all inspriation, all free action, and all hope. In the ultimate mockery, their minds had been untouched, full of plans, feelings, passions. But they were disconnected; they could no longer control their bodies, thier hands, their lips. They were spectators, watching mutely as Gustav used them like tools as brute labor. Their bodies broke, yet they felt nothing; their loved ones fell in front of their eyes, but they could not lift a hand to help. Trapped somewhere between the life of a human and the unlife of a Fell, the entire town of Rovin lives life in a mute servitude of Legate Gustav Yorlins.

[DM note: Possible adventure hook is to have Yorlins enter town while the PCs are away hunting/carrying messages/etc. They return to an army of almost-zombie-former-friends, used as cannon-fodder by a Necromancer-Legate.]

Next: The Ever-Shrouded Mountain
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smeagol
Bane of Legates
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Spell Energy / Taint +9/-2
Gender: Male
Posts: 635


Hiding from Shadow


« Reply #5 on: August 09, 2006, 02:23:42 PM »

The Ever-Shrouded Mountain

(by Galieo)

“Suraldan, shall we finish the climb or return,” asked the young Danasil as she shared what water was left in the skin. Firoma did not like the glint in her brother’s eye as she continued, “We are low on provisions and there is nothing here from which to forage.” The older of the two did not answer, shifted his backpack slightly and began to climb. Turning, the long-haired Danasil snarled through gritted teeth at his sibling, “Climb or stay, it matters not. I . . . must see the summit or die in the effort.”

As the foothills of the Arunath Mountains tumble into the fetid morass of the Aruun Jungle, large moraines fill the broken land from time immemorial. The racing waters from the melting snow that rolls off the heights of the Arunath cut deep swaths in the living rock and where the rock has given way, majestic waterfalls shoot their flotsam and jetsam out over the valley below. The Arunath are not as tall as the Highhorn, nor as wide as the Kaladrun, but they are as treacherous as either with jagged peaks that tear at the sundered sky above.

Over one such valley towers the mountain that is forever cloaked; its base is covered in a swirling mist, while its peak is blanketed in a seemingly endless cascade of cloud. In the valley below stands the broken pillars of a temple, one of many elthedar shrines that riddle the Aruun Jungle. This lost temple dedicated to Elarian is but a meager shadow of its former glory; yet even in its ruin, the temple gathers strange adherents.

One of the Lords of Light, the goddess Elarian was the font of healing and comfort for the ancients. Gone with the sundering is the Lady’s succor from the lives of those bound upon Aryth, yet her gentle touch can still be felt lightly upon the land and healing waters of her temples that continue to dot the broken lands of the elthedar. But in this place, in the shadow of this mountain, her former touch comes with an ever so subtle taint. The waters that flow from the heights of the Ever-Shrouded Mountain and fill the cistern of this lost temple bear an evil touch of a rival to the fallen god himself.

High above this broken temple, in a state of repose a demon lord holds court; Hnoult and his flesh-clad* vassals maintain their exile. Hidden from the sight of Izrador in the mists of the Ever-Shrouded Mountain, these demon rebels bide their time and await their opportunity to make their presence known in open war against the might of the Shadow. Not content to swear allegiance to the dark god, himself, Hnoult has made his home at these healing waters which seem to arrest the degradation of his flesh. These same waters are the source of the misty cloak that hides such foul ones from Izrador.

These flesh-eaters still hunger for skin of the living, but their need is slaked somewhat by these waters of Elarian. However, the run-off from their refuge taints the waters below, causing some who drink from once healthy pools to lose their minds running into the surrounding jungle in an insane stumble. But others who taste this befouled water find themselves drawn to the peaks of the Ever-Shrouded Mountain from which the water came, as if commanded to present oneself at the court of the Tattered King, Hnoult. Ever the gracious host, this twisted lord bids welcome to such visitors and invites them to the feast; his "guests" are forever counted among the lost atop the mountain.

From this forgotten peak, the demon and self-styled king of the flesh dancers sends his servants far and wide to gather knowledge and strength, planting themselves deep within the land ravaged by the Shadow, his forces slowly grow in might as they watch and wait . . . and watch and wait.

* See Minions of the Shadow: Flesh-Clad Spirit

Next: Jogan's Sepulchre
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smeagol
Bane of Legates
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Spell Energy / Taint +9/-2
Gender: Male
Posts: 635


Hiding from Shadow


« Reply #6 on: August 09, 2006, 02:24:14 PM »

Jogan's Sepulchre

During the first years of the Last Age, there was a dwarf Dor called Jogan who pleaded for the union of dwarven clans against the Shadow rather than isolation in the holdfasts.

His flaming speeches were not unheard from some young and brash dwarven warriors, who did not hear their elders' warnings and disobeyed their orders to join Jogan's band of "heroes".

Quickly a new dwarven colony, called Ormenor ("Unity" in Old Dwarven) was built. It was a model of cosmopolitism, and word of it spread all across the dwarven lands, draining many of much-needed warriors and craftsmen.

Actually this colony is now frequently referred to by current-day dwarven rulers to advocate against inter-clan contacts out of the relative safety of their holdfasts. Details are lost, but all that is known is that Ormenor soon gave no news of its members. An expedition found it razed to the ground, but worse, some dwarves were captured and submitted to a treatment worse than death. Some have become powerful Fell, released to feed in dwarven holdfasts, others have joined the infamous Black Blood Clan and gave it vital information as to the location of their native holdfast.

The dwarves say that "unity" actually was a weakness, for it was not long before Ormenor was spotted by the enemy (some murmur that, instead of regrouping to "attack" the enemy's lines of communications, Ormenor had better play the same game as other clans and hide deeply in the earth, there to lead their last stand). As its inhabitants came from different places, many clans were thus betrayed when their secrets were relevaled to the Enemy.

Sadly, Jogan was one of the only survivors. He was quickly caputred by the dwarves from Idenor, given a parody of judgement and sentenced to be forever imprisoned in the ruins of Ormenor (buried under a heavy stone, in the dwarven fashion). It is rumoured that all items crafted by Ormenor artisans were considered cursed by the dwarves, and that they were to accompany Jogan in his eternal punishment before all access to Ormenor were sealed.

Of course, PCs could find one "forgotten" access, either through the shaky hand of fate or after finding long-lost archives. Some cryptic tales might hint that the place was also home to a powerful power nexus.

Now few remember the right location of Ormenor and even that it existed at all. The place has become a myth for most dwarves, and is supposed to be home to blood-thirsty ghosts and evil spirits of restless dead dwarves.

A band of adventurers might find in the ruins of Ormenor evidence (lost journals, etc)proving that actually Jogan was betrayed by other dwarves, jealous of his fledgling clan's success. The location of this holdfast was leaked to an orcish clan in order to prevent any further "escapes" from young idealistic dwarves from the doomed holdfasts. Ormenor's fate meant further isolationism for all dwarven clans, and their long-term weakening.

Jogan was actually sentenced to a fate worse than death: he was eaten alive by enraged orts (the bodies of which are buried in Ormenor). Such was his anger, though, that he became a Lost, guarding the place for eternity. His strong will prevented him from madness, and he will find rest when the Pcs will bring evidence to the betrayal and spread the need for dwarven unity as a necessity for the survival of the dwarven people. If they do this, he will give access to a powerful power nexus and one covenant item (along with several "standard" magic items). The Ormenor banner, which remained intact for all those years, will become the symbol of dwarven unity.
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smeagol
Bane of Legates
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Spell Energy / Taint +9/-2
Gender: Male
Posts: 635


Hiding from Shadow


« Reply #7 on: August 09, 2006, 02:25:01 PM »

Exiled of the Isle of Mourn

(by Pheros)

When the Dorns landed on Eredane, after long months at sea, theyy became a people deeply rooted with the land, needing to feel the ground under their feet to be comfortable. This was reflected in their burial habits, and great stone constructions were raised in memorium along the South of Erenland. But when the Sarcosians invaded and the Dorns were pushed North, they were forced to cross the Pelluria in any sea craft they could find. Though the trip was a short one, many of the wounded were poorly tended to while on the waves, and died. The Dorns refused to bury their kin in a watery grave, and stored the bodies until the first site of new land. An island was picked, and while scouts and families landed on the new shores, the warriors brought to the island the bodies of the fallen. A long burial ceremony was held, and great castle-like stone structures were erected to house the dead.

The island became the honored burial place for fallen heroes of the Dorish people, and took the name 'The Isle of Mourn' for the frequent visitors who came to pay respects to friends and idols. Dornish mysitcs took up residence on the Isle, offering a chance for the visitors speak with the dead, to ask them questions, and to learn their secrets. The Death Speakers, as they were called, offered promise to the Dorns that never would everything that was theirs be lost. Great halls for seances were built on the island, and it was considered a rite of passage for every young warrior to travel the the Isle of Mourn and learn the fighting secrets of the hero they chose to follow.

As the forces of Izrador pushed across the Pelluria at the end of the Thrid Age, the Death Speakers were forced to leave Isle of Mourn behind, along with their dead kin, and the secrets they held. After the Last Battle, the Exiled, as they now called themselves, were scattered into the wind. Some tried to blend in to Dornish towns as healers, others left for the Elven woods. But they all swore to continue their practice, and spread their teachings, even under threat of death. The ranks of the Exiled of the Isle of Mourn have thinned in the century since the last battle, but some strong veins remain, and within their community it is whispered that a few have returned to the Isle of Mourn, to hold seances with the heroes of ages past to gain their wisdom.

If a person can find an Exiled, and convince them to reveal themselves, they will gladly let them speak to any dead whose tomb is accessible. And if a hero can find the Isle of Mourn, the returned Exiled will allow them to access a trove of knowledge of history and war second only to the tower libraries of Caradul.

Next: The Hidden Pleat
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smeagol
Bane of Legates
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Spell Energy / Taint +9/-2
Gender: Male
Posts: 635


Hiding from Shadow


« Reply #8 on: August 09, 2006, 02:26:29 PM »

The Hidden Pleat

Not all halflng slaves are eaten alive by hungry orc commanders. The Shadow is clever enough to recognize their expertise in various crafts, especially sowing and leather-tanning.

So it is no big surprise that many halfling slaves are used at the best of their potential to craft leather amror for basic orc troops (chain mail being reserved to commanders).

and no big surprise either that their number has been infiltrated by followers of the teachings of Aio the Light Footed (or Avenging Knives, or Liberators - see the Slavery in Erenland thread in DM's corner).

Instead of liberating the slaves (who are treated better than in many other areas), the resistants taught the craftsmen to put an indetectable weakness into every armor suit they produce so that it can be used against the orc wearers by elven or dwarven fighters.

Thus, hundreds and thousands of orcish armor suits have been produced with a slight flaw: a hidden pleat that, if touched by a fighter who knows about it, grants his weapon direct access to the wearer's heart (called shot; to touch it, consider the wearer's AC to be +5. if hit, consider it a critical hit x4. Use any massive damage threashold rules you use if the damage suffered is bad enough).

Of course, this has just begun for a few months. It is up to the PCs to deliver this precious secret to the elven and dwarven forces who will be able to get the most of this hidden weakness in the orc troops. This will allow to help the elves/dwarves repel a decisive orcish assault, against all odds.

Until the legates find out the truth and slay the halfling slaves (who will exfiltrate them into the safety of the Erethor forest? seems like the PCs will have a moral debt to them).
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smeagol
Bane of Legates
****

Spell Energy / Taint +9/-2
Gender: Male
Posts: 635


Hiding from Shadow


« Reply #9 on: August 09, 2006, 02:27:23 PM »

Forest of Shells

(by Cannibal)

On the coast west of the Aruun jungle, there exists a large raised plateau of craggy rock where nothing grows. Colonies of giant seagulls nest here in the breeding season. The ground is stony and dirty chalk white and many shells of small sea creatures can be found strewn all over. Strange swirling patterns can also be found, some half obliterated by weather. It seems that the deeper one digs, the bigger the shells get.

Some crags lead into the white rock, and adventurous elves have reported a network of chasms and tunnels inside the plateau. The walls inside plateau are made up of smooth or sometimes sharp seashells, often with vibrant colours and wild patterns. Some of these shells are so huge an elf can stand upright inside one. In one particular cavern, many tall, pointed, spiralled shels stand straight up like some parody of a pine forest. Some stood so tall they seemd to support the cavern ceiling dozens of feet above.

In the center of this cavern is a lake of salt water, and the elven explorers found that it connected to the sea via a long and winding submerged tunnel system, several miles in length. These tunnels seemed to be dug from the chalk, the walls smooth and with many spherical side chambers.

Again, the bottoms of these tunnels and chambers were strewn with the shells of sea creatures, some of which must have been leviathan in size when still alive.Some of these seemed particularly placed to mark cavern entrances or forks in the tunnel system. The elves often had the impression they were not alone, and one of the explorers was lost when exploring a tunnel on her own. The only thing the other elves could find was her charm of water breathing.

Next: the Red Lake
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smeagol
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« Reply #10 on: August 09, 2006, 02:28:06 PM »

The Redlake

(by Kherylian)

A long time ago, the Priest of Ibon-Sûl have invoqued a strange spirit form a plan without true Reality.
They ve first believed that this creature was an evil water elemental but they were wrong it was a very powerfull, and the first Reality Sink.
They saw that the creature can't be trapped because it can negate the reality and the creature flee into the jungle of Aruun.
In panic the Priests call to arms the greater warriors of the city and they have hunted the creature.

after a cycle of hunted, they found it in a lake somewhere in the jungle and they try to destroy it.
The battle was during a entire week, only one priest come back to Ibon-Sûl, he said that the creature was destroyed and the water of the lake become red because of the blood of the fifty warriors dead in the battle.

The Priest never find back the way of the lake, the Redlake was lost.
But sometimes, in the rivers of Aruun a wanderer can find a Reality Sink.

In fact, the Reality Sink (35HD, Colossal) is not dead, it sleeps waiting to regain his power but the place is now a magic, protected by old rituals.
if someone could find it, he could certainly find old magic stuffs and the water could be a Nexus of Power.
Nobody now the truth.

next: Plains of Sadness Winds [/b]
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« Reply #11 on: August 09, 2006, 02:28:50 PM »

Plains of Sadness Winds

(by Guest)

South-southwest of Cambrial the shattered remains of countless halfling villages punctuate the plains that form an inland sea of grass. Overgrown now with vegetation the vestiges of small agrarian communities dot the landscape, though to the unwary and untrained eye they appear as nothing more than small clumps of uneven ground. Long have these villages stood idle while the surrounding farm fields have returned to their natural state—the long grasses of the plains have overgrown these once fruitful places.

During the last age orc warbands burned and scorched these lands in their first sweep across it, then came the camp followers and other degenerate hangers-on that consorted with the Shadow’s forces. Torture and random cruelty was but an introduction to the despair that would engulf this once tranquil fey race.

The instant victory expected over the fey eluded the invading legions of the fallen god; progress slowed and efforts were stymied against the elves in particular. The success so easily achieved over the humans, whether through armed might or subtle deceit, could not be found. As delays mounted the need for more and more resources grew; the grist for the Shadow’s mill is and was slave labor. Slavers descended upon the already broken villages to scoop up the survivors; singly, by the family and even by the village, slaver whips beat the uprooted halflings on their way to the forced labor camps. Some resisted, many tried to flee, countless died upon the way, yet still the influx of halfling slaves continued upon their Trails of Sorrow.

The Trails of Sorrow criss-cross the southern plains, the so-called Plains of Sadness Winds; these ways are the paths trod by halfling slaves on their way to whatever prisons, mines or farms in, beneath or on which they will spend their last painful moments upon Aryth. Again, to the untrained eye they do not appear to be much, footpaths and trails primarily, although many widen at crossroads and closer to the towns that yet remain.

The winds, the Sadness Winds, that whip unbroken across these plains dip into the furrowed Trails and push the lingering sadness of the dead and dying into the air. Clouds of dust belch onto travelers and the effects of such winds are unsettling.

Depending upon the individual, the Sadness Winds can work a different impact:

For the Shadow-aligned—the Winds will act as a Nightmare spell, a sleeping humanoid will be afflicted by a hideous and unsettling phantasmal vision (e.g., the wrongs inflicted upon a dying halfling, etc.). The nightmare prevents restful sleep and causes 1d10 points of damage. The nightmare leaves the subject fatigued and unable to regain arcane spells for the next 24 hours.

For the non-Shadow aligned—the Winds will act as a Dream spell; a sleeping humanoid will hear a message, image or memory of one halfling upon the Trails of Sorrow. The message can be of any length, and the recipient remembers it perfectly upon waking. The communication is one-way. The recipient cannot ask questions or offer information, nor is any information gained by observing the dreams of the recipient.

Next: The Bridge of Signs
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« Reply #12 on: August 09, 2006, 02:30:23 PM »

(by vanderhagast)

Somewhere among the Kaladrun Mountains lies a bridge unlike any other. It is a two mile long structure towering among the cold, rocky crags. A stony structure so perfect, it could only be said to have been created by the best of dwarven stonemasons of old.
Each stone slab used had a symbol carved on it, forming a pattern so perfect it could have only been designed by the own chosen of the old gods.
It is said each symbol represents the ancestor of each dwarven family involved in the building of the structure, representing the dwarven union between the two cities that worked for countless years...an union so perfect...it was noticed by the Shadow


A large stony bridge which served as the main road from Caradul to the long-abandoned keep of the Forgotten Ones...those dwarves who were corrupted by the shadow in the very beginning of the dark ages, those who turned against their kin, and became orc servants...and became orcs...

The stony bridge has a one mile wide gap in the middle, lost in a huge earthquake unlike any other when Izrador began his warring.
On one side, the symbols are those of noble dwarven families. The bridge let's those who can speak with the dead gaher some information from the stone slabs, the ancient spirits trapped on each symbol.
On the other side, lie those symbols of those dwarven families which now work with Izrador, those who forge weapons for his people...those families whose bodies were corrupted have had their symbols fall down to the depths of the crevases...to be found only by those who dare face the truth.

Legend says 'shall those of firm hearts join hands again, only then shall the Sun shine high and the Moon will caress their cheeks, for only then the Darkness shall be banished'


Next: The Temple of the Eclipse
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« Reply #13 on: August 09, 2006, 02:32:15 PM »

(by TheStranger)

Over the past year the Orcs have made low level incursions into the lands of the Kurgan Dwarves, but is there a reson beyond the simple commands of their superiors? Recently a Durgis Clan outpost, Durgis Rock, has fallen. As quickly as the hordes of Izrador fell upon the clan-hold they left, leaving few survivors. The Orc company then headed south deeper into the Kaladruns where they set up camp in a wide valley.
Within weeks the area was buzzing with activity, a withered Legate commanding the horde to dig. The Durgis Clan Dwarves of the area have returned with word that these are no normal earthen defenses but it seems that the Legate is searching for something beneath the Kaladruns. Knowing the history of Idenor the Dwarves fear the worst. Even now they search their histories for some clue as to the evils the wrinkled Legate might loose.

Just what is the Legate looking for? A Dragon? An undead or undying champion? A Powerful relic of the Elthedar...or perhaps something darker.

Inspired by The White Rose A Book of the Black Company by Glen Cook
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« Reply #14 on: August 09, 2006, 02:33:15 PM »

(by babayaya)

West from river's fang, the gamaril slowly stretch toward north...
passing near kaelorin a traveller can find a very strange arch crossing the river...
at first glance you'll see dead trees crossing thre gamaril...
coming closer, the intricate vines wrapping the 2 truncs...
and still closer y'ou'll see that each vine have a single sigil marqued on it...and each one is different from the other...
some tales says that the vines are the erethor thanks for the great heroes...other that they are some kinf of prophecies to come when a new one appears...
in fact no one knows...
except perhaps the brotherhood of signs....
all ten members are totally unknown from nearly everyone except aradil and perhaps four or five others...
the sole goal of these high whisper adept is to understand and translate aryth signs in all eredane...
the bridge is the most apparent message from the earth mother....
This bridge came long ago and no one knew what it was, so it was sort of venerated as a sacred place (it has the same propeties as a stone circle)...
one day in the second age, a young whisper adept named elgaladil decided to study the vines...it took him a century too begin understanding that the message was in the sign first but also in the form the vine had...
This encouraged him to continue. By this period he was quite oft(en laughed at, because of the seemingly useless studie he was pusruing...
by the end of the second age, finally, and with an enormous help from the whisper (as he says himself), he translated one vine, the one that was speaking of the fall of the city of knowledge to become a city of shadows...
then a second came an arc later this one was about the shame of the shaved ones...at first he didn't understood but was formal about this...
anyway for a decade he compilled all he transalted and finally came to caradul with the result...
It took very little time for aradil to see the sign bridge as a very powerfull tool for the war...she decided to let him take 10 apprentice in the utmost secret. No one had to know about this...there was a sigil about a demon hunter and she didn't wanted to take any roisk...
Elgaladil returnerned to the bridge with his ten students and began to learn them how to interpret these sigils and forms...
since then there have been four other vines wrapping the two trunc...
A strange thing is that no member of the brotherhood of signs has ever crosed this bridge...it is rumored to absorb it crossers...it's not proved anyway...
since the end of the thirs age, Elgaladil died and now all the ten are wandering erethor and all eredane for ome signs...another place have been found in the far noth esat of Dahurin, in those unkind wastes near the endless ocean, and another one ine the aarun jungle...
always as a bridge form...
What the signs bridges say is unknown...but waht if some adventurers were sought after to investigate some place with a strange bridge crossing a river????

Next: the obsidian pearl order

Sorry, sorry i didn't see there was a page N°2 in this post.....I apogologise, kneeling before all of you waiting humbly you jugement......
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« Reply #15 on: August 09, 2006, 02:33:54 PM »

(by Galieo)

“Blacker than a starless night when all but the brightest of the Sorshef have stabled, she is,” mutters Sahi Yelim as he runs a parched tongue over toothless gums; with a fleeting glance towards Master Eshen the ancient Sahi looks down towards the dying embers and continues to spin his tale.

“To gaze into her depths is to lose your soul, or so they say. Many have quested for her through the ages, but none return themselves. It is even said that ill-fated Javeed Khosrow and his Thunder of Sharuun wandered the wastes in search of her until his date with destiny and the cursed wyrm, Bathkaddar.” The old man pauses, letting the silence of the caesura fill with the low hiss of the fire and the random pop of the burning wood. “After Javeed was overcome by madness, it was thought that the Obsidian Pearl’s ponderless void could return him to himself, like a leach removing tainted humors, or so the Sahi Ketista hoped as she fled from this once noble warrior.” With a shrug of his stooped shoulders, the old Sarcosan seems to say that her fate too is lost to unrelenting time, swallowed into the oblivion of the past.

Then the aged teacher looks slowly up at his pupils, knowing that they now hung upon every word he uttered. “But even if some foolish hero were to find her resting place, the treasury house where she dwells, one would be forced to confront her guardians.” A slight grin passes over the venerable sages’ face, as he concludes his lore sharing, “But if you best Order of the Obsidian Pearl and master the black abyss of her, then that brave rider shall be the master of an artifact beyond reckoning.”

The Obsidian Pearl and its Order

The Obsidian Pearl is an artifact of evil, befouled by the very essence of the Darguul who created this terrible object of power. Though its precise purpose if unknown, it is suspected that the Darguul used this corrupt and terrible item to control their slaves.

The item itself takes great satisfaction in watching its servants, the members of its Order, waste away to death and then to maintain its control over a thrall as undead. Preserved by the Pearl, the Order of the Obsidian Pearl is robbed of everything as the Pearl feeds off its minions.

The very term "Order of the Obsidian Pearl" is a mockery that the Pearl itself has dubbed its prisoners, taunting both the living and partially sane Fell with the idea that they are noble servitors pledged to some "higher" purpose. With patience the Pearl twists the will of its minions, until some openly worship it and its might like dogs begging for a scrap from their master's table. This artifact revels in its raw power and loves nothing more than manipulating its various slaves in a variety of ways; conspiracy and machination are the rules amongst the more powerful of the Order. The Pearl is even know to release some of the most debaunched of the Order of the Obsidian Pearl for its own evil purposes.

Its location is unknown, though scraps of knowledge about its possible resting place still exist. With the fall of Highwall and the destruction of its Library only the most diligent of sages can even find a passing reference to this terrible item.

Obsidian Pearl, Lawful Evil, Ego 21
Intelligence 18, Wisdom 18, Charisma 10
Communication: Speech, Telepathy
Senses: 120 ft. Darkvision, Blindsense, and Hearing

Lesser Powers:
Cast Daze Monster 3/day, Save DC = 26
Cast Hold Person 3/day, Save DC = 27
Cast Zone of Truth 3/day, Save DC = 26

Greater Powers:
Cast Charm Person usable at will, Save DC = 25
Cast Command Undead usable at will, Save DC = 26

Special Purpose: Defend the Darguul against foes, especially slave rebellion; for this purpose, it may cast Phantasmal Killer.

NEXT: Wadi al-Rahib
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« Reply #16 on: August 09, 2006, 02:34:37 PM »

(by Reideen)

"Wadi al-Rahib" is not, like you would think a sarcossan man but an old sarcossan Stronghold, build by the first sarcossans to roam Eredane. It is south of the darkening wood and almost not to find. In the first years of the stronghold it was a small castlekeep under the administration of an influental female sussar, named Parvaneh. She was very proud and strong and even though she fought many battles with Dorns and intruders from the Aruun she died of old age. When the Shadow appeared for the third time, a sahi astrologer, kin of Parvaneh, saw the upcoming fall of Erenland and build a secret catacomb. When the Shadow discovered 'Wadi al-Rahib' the catacomb was completed and the old astrologer sealed the entrance with his life. The last thing he saw was the starlight as the ceiling of the keep broke and the heaven was at sight. The name "Wadi al-Rahib" means literaly "Oasis of the courageous" and so it was.

Today the Keep is just a ruin, thats not even enough to protect from rain. The only thing to notice is an old wooden chair in the middle of that, what was once the great hall. When a someone sits on the chair, nothing happens and even if a man (or a woman) of pure blood sits on it nothing happens as long as no starlight is shining upon them. In the moment starlight shines into the face of the sitting pureblood a door opens, giving free the entrance to the catacombs.

The ones inside, the secret door shuts within a minute, but can be opened from within without problems. The way is going down about 40 feet and so protects any magical aura it might have from divinationspells.
Down there is nothing special. The remaining weapons are rusty and the men who protected the catacombs, are only remaining as skeletons, though they're not undead.
Some tunnels are wrecked, though, because of the Shadows attack but the most are still intact.

The DM may use it as a stronghold for his group if they need one. It needs some restauration, though. But especialy Chars with the Leadership feat will get a place for their followers (at least the outlaws) to live. Its big enough and hard to find any may even be expanded with enough time. But its okay to live in for about 10 people, without any expansions, if the characters decide 'twould be safer to keep it low.


Rules and Background:

With "pureblooded", neither the feat "sarcossan pureblood" nor the Heroic Path "Pureblood" is meant. The purpose of this lock is not to let in anyone who may have been bred by the shadow, but those who live up to the virutes of the old kings and sussars. Its not limited to sarcossans and even a Dorn with ah high sense of purpose and virtue may enter.

If the DM decides not to use it as a stronghold he may as well use it as a roleplaying opporturnity. It may already have been found and be inhabited. The leaders of the 'Wadi al-Rahib' are a young sarcossan beeshi, called Bashshar (Sarcossan Fighter7/Freerider3) that has taken over some Freeriders after their sussar died at a surpriseattack and a strange young man called Rafael (Erenlander Rogue5/Defender5) who is said to be strange at times and sometimes even scaring (even if he is just 6'1'' tall). But rumors say he bears blood of ancient dornish and sarcossan royals.

The DM may even use the 'Wadi al-Rahib' to mix in some convent items into play.


"I hope ya like it (and I didn't made any mistakes o_O)"

Next : The Raindrop
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« Reply #17 on: November 05, 2006, 07:43:23 PM »

((Long-time lurker, first-time poster after a lengthy RL interruption put my plans for a grand entrance on hold.  Wink  Here's a write-up of some notes I made way back when I was reading the old board.  This covers what seems to be an unintentional gap in the creation thread.  Hope it meets with approval.))

For Smeagol:

The Temple of the Eclipse

  In the farthest reaches of the Kaladruns, many leagues South of even Bodrun, a remote valley among the high peaks contains a small lake, a stand of wind-stunted trees, and an ancient lump of granite.  Decorated with faint lines of carving worn down to mere bumps and grooves by thousands of years of weathering, the great spur of stone nonetheless still holds strong.
  Ancient tales tell that this remote vale was crafted by the great spirit of the mountains as an observatory sacred to Father Sun and Mother Moon.  In the Time of Years, each of five solar eclipses lined up with one of the peaks surrounding the valley….  Legend has it that each marked a great event of hope and prosperity for the dwarves – the founding of Calador, the first great Clanmoot, the first major victory over the orcs, the smelting of the first mithral weapon.  One peak remains on the Southern range of the valley, not yet known to have lined up with an eclipse….
  But the most sacred site of all remains hidden from view, tucked away inside that weather-worn spur of graven rock.  Dip one's head beneath a South-facing lintel low even for many dwarves, and pace down the short, steep-angled passage, and one enters a a leaf-strewn, dusty chamber.
  Inside, more carvings might be seen.  Though also time-worn and ancient beyond most understanding in these latter days of the world, they are far better preserved than those on the exterior of the rock.  The rectangular chamber is simple, and very gloomy for most of each day thanks to its narrow entrance and windowless design.  Yet, with a bas relief on the wall opposite the entrance displaying a typically dwarven sun motif half-visible above a moon, the miniature temple is brilliantly illuminated for short spans of time on certain late-Summer days when the sun clears the skyline and peers over the shoulders of the intervening mountains.
  On certain nights, too, the full moon casts its light clear and uninterrupted into the little chamber.  High and Southerly as it is, even the Shadow’s clouds have not yet entirely cut off the Temple from the light of the celestial bodies.
  Faint but still legible on the inner walls of the chamber, a tale is told of a day surrounding night, on which Father Sun and Mother Moon shall join together to cast light and shadow together into their temple – and on that day the power of both the ancient parents of the world can be tapped by the faithful who remember them.
  A record of an ancient dwarven prophecy lies in the archives of a half-abandoned scholar's hall in Caradul, describing a ritual by which the Temple of the Eclipse might be used to fight unnatural night when it comes into its power - but the last of the ever-dwindling staff of librarians and lore-keepers to have read the crumbling scroll died an elven generation ago.  Still, perhaps someone else will stumble across it, or other records may survive in the minds of the dwarven loremasters or those few treasuries of lore that have thus far evaded the Shadow’s grasp.

Background:  Eclipses are horribly over-used in a lot of fiction, conveniently happening just when needed by the characters (“let me consult my almanac to see when the next one is so we can trick these savages…”).  However, when the story happens because of it – say, a desperate race to reach the Temple in time for a forthcoming eclipse, or a fight to turn the impending darkening of the sun to the advantage of the powers of good (or evil)… that could be the basis for a memorable story (or even campaign, if developed enough).
  As for what the temple might do?  An extremely potent short-term nexus would be one of the obvious options.  A grander option for those happy to play with the theme (as is being discussed in the current Dawn thread) might be to allow a temporary breach in the Veil and communication with those the dwarfs see as the creators of “the world and the fey” (M2E p243) – eclipses are traditionally when even the supernatural rules and boundaries of the world are broken, after all.  Alternatively, with mithral’s special role as “the Gift of the Moon” created by the Mother from the fire of the Sun’s crown, an opportunity to empower, craft or even create mithral (perhaps melding the blood of the sun - gold - with the silver blood of the moon) would be feasible as a suitably symbolic union of the two’s powers and essences.
  And then there are the fun things that evil forces might try to do when day is turned to night even more comprehensibly than the Shadow’s clouds can manage….
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« Reply #18 on: November 06, 2006, 04:27:57 AM »

This is good. Have a cookie Smiley
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« Reply #19 on: January 22, 2008, 03:05:18 AM »

The Raindrop

The Raindrop is an island off the coast of Eredane in the Endless Ocean.  Steep cliffs and deep gorges funnel rain into the narrow places where it dumps out in a deluge.  Long ago the Raindrop was a stop-over for sailors for water and plants, but the unpredictable weather and frequent floods prevented any permanent settlement from being founded.  The clouds that are now being prevented from bringing their life-giving waters to the Elven woods have only served to increase the rainfall on Raindrop. 

Though plentiful water exists, the frequent flooding has prevented anything but the smallest, heartiest plants from taking root in Raindrop's soil, leaving little interest for the elves in such a place.  Humans tried to settle here in the first and second ages with no success, but explored the island throughly.  Many brought back wonderous stories of deep caves and underground rivers, but even more never returned, even some great adventurers.  What can be found deep in the flooded marshes and caves of Raindrop is unknown, but likely harkens back to a time long forgotten.

Next:  The Final Grain of Wheat
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« Reply #20 on: February 04, 2009, 06:49:41 PM »

The Final Grain of Wheat

To the northwest of Hallisport, on the edge of the vast Horse Plains, you could find a small farming village called Final Grain of Wheat. It is some miles from the cliff overlooking the seas in the Gulf of the Sorshef, which sends the winds coursing over the flat plains in the winter. It is a simple place, with simple people, and the Shadow has barely bothered with it. They take their tithes every year, and rarely, a patrol will pass through. The village struggles to stay alive each year, and their principal crop of wheat does not do well in the climate this close to the sea, but they know no other way. Somehow, though, you would find that they manage to stay alive, year after year, toiling hard and long against the day when Final Grain's prophetic name rings true.

If, perhaps, you were to look a little closer, you might begin to notice a few things out of place. Here, a man pulls the plow himself while the horse rests in the stables. There, a child works harder than you would expect, and there are lines beginning near his eyes. Women are found doing the heavy labor of the fields as often as the men in certain seasons. The storehouses never seem to hold much more than the families will need, even after harvest time. And most telling of all, you would be hardpressed to find the same faces working in the fields month after month.

If, noticing these things, you were to peer closer, you might find to your surprise that every floor in these rural houses was made with fairly skilled woodwork. It looks as if there may be a spot that is more worn than the others, and somehow out of joint with the rest of the floor...and if your senses were keen enough to spot this, then very likely now would be the time you would turn around to find some of the villagers watching you. And suddenly, though very little would have changed, they would no longer seem so simple. Or harmless. One holds a small length of rope, another has shifted his grip on the sickle, and a third has merely changed his stance - yet you, so prying, so very observant, can see death lurking in their eyes.

Here, in this remote corner of Eredane, is a training ground. They teach how to fight without being seen to, to turn your entire body into a weapon, and they do it very well. They only take in those brought to them by old students, and outsiders are not received well, for discovery by the Shadow would bring their traditions to an end in the blink of an eye.

Once, this was an open school, and all were welcome. When the Shadow fell, they went to ground, and most of their students disappeared - but were not lost. Now, they have a support network that keeps this tiny village alive, bringing them the supplies they need through a network of caves that leads up from the coast. Below the village itself rests the true training ground, where their serious training is completed and the ancient traditions are observed. Underground is where they take their tests and demonstrate their skills to (and on) one another. The ring they fight in can barely be seen, worn smooth by nearly a hundred years of students, but the ancient symbol of their order, carved into the stone beneath their feet, is diligently resculpted and kept fresh.

These days, they sadly do not take in Elves or Dwarves into their ranks, as none of them could take their turn aboveground without calling down the Shadow's forces, but all the other races can be found among them. Dorns, Erenlanders, Sarcosans, even the occasional Gnome or Halfling learn to fight here, and the ancient traditions flow among all their people.

Someday, they teach, the Shadow will be lifted, and their order can grow once more, but until then they must continue to plant the seeds. They will nourish the people and keep them strong until that day. Sooner or later, the Sun will rise, and then, perhaps, they will no longer have to fight against being the Final Grain of Wheat.

Mechanically, if your players discover or visit the Final Grain, and train here for a time, they might receive an extra Defender Ability, or Improved Unarmed Strike.

Next: Spirit's Twilight
« Last Edit: October 10, 2012, 07:08:00 AM by Sholano » Logged

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« Reply #21 on: April 25, 2009, 03:16:47 PM »

I just love it. Voted for inclusion into TOSIII Wink
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« Reply #22 on: April 29, 2009, 03:22:54 PM »

Yay! I was worried it was a little hokey.
Somebody should totally do the next one.
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« Reply #23 on: April 21, 2010, 04:00:19 AM »

Welp, I feel a little dumb following up my own post, but since nobody else has done it in some time (and, more importantly, I have a fascinating idea involving all three of the creation chain follow-ups), I hereby present...

Spirit's Twilight

The deep jungles of the Aruun have long been a place of dread for mortal kind. Here, Trapped spirits of all kinds abound, and demons tread the ancient ruins. The Danisil know this place better than any, and even they do not walk lightly. But there is yet beauty, and peace, to be found.

Hidden under the dense canopy, in one of the places where the light of the sun is all but forgotten beneath the age-old trees, there is a glade. A soft blue light fills the expanse, some sixty feet from the center, flitting shadows crisscrossing ancient vines. Four pillars, formed of some kind of marble, stand spaced around a circular dais, and they have nearly been covered by undergrowth ages ago. The dais itself, however, stands oddly clear, as though the foliage dared not rest itself there. The light seems to come from nowhere in particular, but is brightest around the center of the dais, where there lies...something. It's difficult to make out from the edge of the glade, which is as far as any mortal has yet dared go.

Beautiful as the place looks, there is a sense of foreboding to the place. When approached, wisps can be made out in the air. Formless spirits, apparently so weak as to lack even the ability to manifest fully to our world, can be seen in the corners of vision, flickering in and out of existence. Their intentions aren't clear, but rarely have the Lost had good will for mortals. They inspire dread in all but the most powerful of wills, driving them away from the place despite its haunting beauty. To those few who can muster up the strength to press forward, though, they will find, resting on a small platform in the middle of the dais, a truly impressive work. A mask, with a face that brings a tear to the eye with its unearthly beauty. Should one take it up, well... only the spirits know.

They call it the Titan's Mask.



Mechanics
The Spirit's Twilight is a moderately powerful nexus, where the boundaries between Aryth and the spirit realms are weak. In ancient times, spirit channelers could commune with the nature spirits and higher consciousnesses that would gather here, drawn by its power. These days, the place is still a focus of power, because it draws in the Lost. These poor spirits cannot escape, or even act, while caught within the nexus, but their strength can be siphoned off by channelers brave enough to make their way past the frightening aura and attune themselves to it. When first discovered, channelers will find that the nexus is already attuned, apparently to the Titan's Mask. Any spirit creatures that find themselves in the vicinity of Spirit's Twilight find that they cannot leave, without some sort of more powerful anchor carried away from the place by a mortal creature. Additionally, they are rendered incapable of using any supernatural powers they may have. Exact spirit energy and DCs for fear auras and the like should be decided by GMs.

For more information on the Mask, go here. For more info on the spirit trapped within it, go here (I'd recommend checking out the Mask entry first, for the record).

Next: The Hammer Falls
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Against the Shadow  |  Forum  |  Midnight & RPGs  |  GM's Corner (Moderators: Bleak Knight, Glacialis)  |  Topic: creation chain: places & histories
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