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Library listing ...
The Druid Stone Song (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4198#msg4198)
Legend of the 5 Swords (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4199#msg4199)
The Moradin's Coin (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4200#msg4200)
Silver Mountain Dragon Shield and Sword (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4201#msg4201)
The anvil of Souls (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4202#msg4202)
The stranger cards of Amanda Blueriver (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4203#msg4203)
Kaylessa, The Wasp Queen of Guillan Florest (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4204#msg4204)
Golden Lion Helm (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4205#msg4205)
Strrambarek's theorem (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4206#msg4206)
The Birth of the Outer Ring (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg5843#msg5843)
Battle for Southbank (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg8740#msg8740)
Battle for Valstiir (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg12404#msg12404)
Elven Lore and Book Wing ( Written in Elven )
Battle for Nualla'n (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4229#msg4229)
Dark Elves: A history (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4233#msg4233)
Sun Elves: A history (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4234#msg4234)
Moon Elves: A History (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4235#msg4235)
The Crown Wars: A Dissenting Opinion (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg4236#msg4236)
Moral Dilemmas (Part 1) (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg5847#msg5847)
The Enchanted Quill (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg5848#msg5848)
Snake Queen (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg5849#msg5849)
The Founding of Nualla’n (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg5851#msg5851)
An Enchanting Encounter (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg5853#msg5853)
The Little Elf Girl (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg5854#msg5854)
The Birth of the Outer Ring (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg5879#msg5879)
Crafting Listings ( NEW )
Metals and Alloys (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg5845#msg5845)
Magic Listings ( NEW )
A Summoner's Guide - Volume 1 (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg8494#msg8494)
A Summoner's Guide - Volume 2 (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg8495#msg8495)
A Summoner's Guide - Volume 3 (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=943.msg8739#msg8739)
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The Druid Stone Song
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The Druid Stone Song
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(https://s22.postimg.cc/cxwqfmmtt/druid.png)
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In distant times, in a distant forest, an evil creature was defeated, at great cost. The forest guardians, wounded and tired, saw the destruction of their beloved home, now in ruins, gradually becoming a desert due to corruption caused by the creature. His name could no longer be pronounced, or revived easily. The adventurers turned their backs, returning to their cities with glories and prestige, but behind them there was only the ruined forest, which slowly died, corrupted and poisoned by the poisonous blood of the dead creature. Animals became sick, plants became weak and dead. And the Druids silently mourned.
The druids gathered around the creature's evil body, emanating corruption, wickedness and even dead malice. And slowly, the Druids circled the body in a circle with 12 members, beginning to sing a serious, sad and melancholic song, expressing their pain and agony, sacrificing their own lives, becoming part of the forest, turning into a circle of statues , sealing all the corruption of the body of the creature, and slowly purifying the forest, making it thrive and grow more vigorous and pure than ever.
After this, once a year, their descendants and apprentices approach the statues of their former mentors, and again sing the same song on the day of their sad death, to reinforce the pact of protecting and loving nature and that forest, renewing the bond of respect and understanding for life ... and to protect it in all its forms.
In place of the body of the vile and corrupt creature, in its place grew a gigantic tree, the largest of all forest. Its fruits are especially tasty, and its leaves are medicinal. Birds of all kinds and species live on their branches, while other animals, even the wildest and most dangerous ones, act graciously and peacefully before everyone as they approach that tree.
Elves feel honored to see that tree in person, while other druids only feel in full harmony with nature spend at least one night near the circle, feeling the presence of life in all its splendor.
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The moon sheds no light on the eastern florest
The day turns to night and the bonfires cease burning
The druids gather round and the chants fill the air
Their echoes resound and the living world stops turning
The magic words are spoken
As we leave the woods in silence
Now the circle stands alone
And the druids turn to stone
The dawn shines its light on eastern florest
The day floods the night with gilded rays of sunshine
The magic words were spoken
As we left the woods in silence
Then the circle stood alone
And the druids turned to stone
The rising sun is dancing on the edges of the stones
Casting shadows, creeping down the woods
Into the heart of the world
I marvel at this mystery, beholder of the stars
A holy temple, a sacred burial ground
Guarding well its secrets from us all
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Legend of the 5 Swords
SpoilerLegend of the 5 Swords
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/i48shegff/113441-129112-sacred-sword.jpg)
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In ancient times, there was the legend of a powerful arcanum, which the name has already been forgotten. He possessed the gift of forging mystic relics of great power. And for a short time, he dominated a remote region that has now disappeared in time. At the peak of his power, with several servants and followers, he decided that he should expand his power to new lands, dominating everything that surrounded his domains.
For that, for five years, he forged and enchanted five different blades. One for the mind, another for the body, another for the soul, another for life and finally the last, for death.
To his faithful counselor, he devoted the blade of the mind, able to expand his intelligence and wisdom to limits as great as his master.
To his general, he gave the blade of the mind, able to leave it as fast as the wind, as strong as a giant, as healthy and sturdy as a dragon.
To his faithful priest, of whom he preached faith as his leader as a god, he allowed him to have the blade of life, capable of curing any disease, of regaining any injury, of curing any injury. And capable of devastation with one blow only the most dangerous of the undead.
For his spy and killer, he was presented with the blade of death. Portal in various forms, with various types of infinite poisons, capable of corrupting and devastating the lives of those who were injured. Draining to the end his life force, and also able to strengthen the undead.
For his right arm, his chief and faithful commander, he gave up the sword of souls, capable of commanding and invoking any kind of spirit, whether good, evil, nature, hell or other plans.
Over the years, each faithful follower has conquered his own lands, built up his own kingdom, paid respect and idolized his master as god. Their kingdoms and domains were different in many ways. Some cruel, others prosperous. But each with his own quality, reflecting the wishes of his master.
But the commander who had the blade of souls listened attentively to the spirits of other planes, from which he became greedy and tempted to take everything for himself. In secret, he attacked his master, defeating him and taking his place as the leader... Thus unleashing a dispute between all five possessors of the blades. One trying to destroy the other, for personal, moral or unknown reasons.
While each of them fought each other, the master, who had even been defeated, had retired pretending his death decided to return, defeating each of his followers personally, considering them traitors. Their lifeless bodies were sealed, with the blades of which they represented their loyalty, deposited in the tomb from which they were forgotten. After having defeated all, and sealed each blade in a different part, the master retired, leaving behind the debris of his lost kingdom, along with the survivors of his great lost empire. His name was forgotten, along with those who served him and idolized him.
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The Moradin's Coin
SpoilerThe Moradin's Coin
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(https://s33.postimg.cc/6uc0rpm3z/35c0d4fc7282e46c332a2ee135b4748c.jpg)
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Before and in some part in the silver age, when agreements between noble houses and humans were practically impossible, there was record that the few humans who were respected by the dwarves were given gold coins, personally forged by the high priest of Moradin in person. This coin, crafted individually using gold, was known for its rare and intense beauty. Its fine and complex detailing, making the most unsuspecting enchanted with such elaborate beauty, and the most greedy, lost in dreams as they gaze at the coin before their eyes.
This coin was coined only by the high priest, given as the highest honor for the faithful followers of the moral values of Moradin and the dwarven clan of which the high priest represented. These coins represented what was most important and pure for a dwarf, which would be his love of work, his honor and morals forged and carved over the years and all the honor that a family or even a whole clan has won in the name of Moradin for a whole generation of dwarves. Yes, these coins were extremely rare, and for a dwarf would have no greater honor than to meet one of them personally.
When a leader of his clan needed to reward a person of a human race, bronze or copper copies of this coin were given as a symbol of friendship and that the individual was trustworthy of this clan. The name of the human and his family were forged on one side of the coin in human language, while on the other was inscribed in dwarven language the name of the clan that generously, in an act of recognition, provided the coin in the form of gratitude ... that human almost a representative of a group of humans of a region to solve pending and conflicts with the dwarves of that clan, when they arose.
The elves received similar coins, made of silver. Unlike human use, silver coins were used to seal deals and deals between dwarfs and elves on rare occasions. The word of a dwarf was law, but the silver coin served as a physical representation of this agreement, being respectfully returned when the elves could no longer keep their agreement, or for any important reason, broke the agreement.
Wooden coins are also used to represent a sign of good faith in agreements with other races, but the are very rare because many dwarves consider the use of wood models as a subtle way of saying that person do not trust the human enough to trust only in the word directly, and that this is not worth the trouble of mining the metal to produce a coin that would dignify the human in front of other dwarves.
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Silver Mountain Dragon Shield and Sword
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Silver Mountain Dragon Shield and Sword
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(https://s33.postimg.cc/7gert9b3j/d68cd51a4b8ff71a6ef3188548acc2da.jpg)
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There was an ancient gigantic mountain in middle of the snowlands, which in the dwarven language was called the "mountain of silver," for in its tunnels were so abundant and pure veins of silver ore that were the pride of the Silverhammer clan. The silverhammer clan was known to be the most skilled at working with silver. Their jewels were incredible, while the silver-worked weapons were so powerful that any mystical creature would easily fall at the slightest touch if any priest of Moradin blessed any weapon of the Silverhammer clan.
But as prosperous as the clan was, one day one of the dwarves discovered in one of the tunnels a large hall, home of white dragon. The whole clan was in a rush. A dragon sleeping in the heart of the mountain, in the middle of a great hall, full of the most gigantic rocks, made of pure silver, the size of houses. Human houses! And though not as cruel as blacks, or ferocious as blacks, white dragons were known for their instinct, killing first, then eating, and asking only in the last, remote case.
The clan leader of the Silverhammermet with the best members of his clan in the same night. The most mystical arcanes, the bravest barbarians, the strongest fighters, the most intelligent wizards, to decide to kill the dragon while sleeping. Only the wisest high priest of Moradin refused, warning that before all should prepare better, because that type of combat, without preparation, would be mortal for the clan, bringind shame to everyone.
The whole clan should prepare for the war against the dragon, not only the best ones go and venture without preparation, to fight the same night they found the dragon. He suggested that everyone should prepare their best weapons and tactics to actually beat the dragon. Because of his sleep, the dragon could be attacked after all the preparations are done, and faced in a dignified manner, like a true war against a dragon showing the value of the whole clan, and not half coward, while the creature slept. Despite being questioned about this, the high priest did not refuse to bless everyone's weapons before the fative fight.
During the fight, all the best were against the dragon. But all the weapons, even blessed ones, did not cause any wound to the beast, who slept ignoring all the dwarves. The weapons were broken or bent as if they were made of second-hand material, or produced by incompetent craftsmen. The clan leader himself broke his hammer until he was exhausted, hammering the muzzle of the white dragon, who solemnly ignored him in his deep sleep.
After five days and five nights without rest, in a ridiculous fight, where no dwarf could even hurt or wake the dragon, they all retired exhausted from the great hall. The leader's son, upon returning, looked at a mace-sized silver stone, thinking that it would not hurt to start mining the place, even with the sleeping dragon. As he bent to pick up the silver nugget, the high priest slapped the helmet so hard, it fell to the floor. All the dwarves stopped to watch the scene, listening to the sound of the helmet echoing through every room.
The cleric's voice was filled with hatred and frustration. His voice echoed so loudly that it made the dwarven's heart stop from shame and fear.
"We have failed to expel the creature for lack of preparation and strategy, acting like kids and not deserving to be called warriors. Now, do you want to tarnish the little that remains of our clan honor, stealing the silver, without having conquered the mountain in the name of our clan and Moradin? And you, and ALL OF YOU only come back here when you can look into my eyes directly as dwarf and warrior, and not as cursed human thieves! Now, what do we have left? Our skills only, and that's all we have left of honor as forging craftsman!!"
All the dwarves turned pale with his sermon, and they become shocked, seeing the dragon lift his head majestically, looking at all dwarfs in a cold silence.
The priest turned slowly, looking at the dragon directly in the eyes, already taking his hammer, holding it with both hands, prepared to die.
"Show me..." The white dragon speaks, his voice echoing through every room like thunder, while his icy breath causes the air to begin to snow softly for a few moments
The high priest looks surprised at the white dragon. Most people say that they are wild and extremely instinctive creatures. But that one looked at him with a look of cold, calculated hatred. And more, asked something...
"Show...?"
"I am the spirit of this mountain, sent by Moradin to test your clan. Your clan only works in silver, forgetting the other metals in the whole region. They stopped sculpturing the rock, in honor of your ancestors and your heroes... Because no one become a hero in your clan! Moradin gave to your ancestors the right to use the purest silver, but your clan were slow, unable to expose your work as craftsmen in other materials and to conquer new jewels, new metals, and to expel your enemies.
Now, after failed, show me. Your skills, as craftman, priest. Your clan does not deserve this second chance, and I would kill them all when the boy stole the silver nugget. But being the only one who questioned the good of his clan and his own honor, I give him the right to try to impress me."
The high priest listened to the words of the spirit of the mountain slowly, carefully absorbing every sound, feeling every word of shame burn in his soul. He knew that it was his fault, too, for not guiding his clan with more wisdom under the teachings of Moradin propely. He let the greed for silver overshadow the other abilities of his clan. The prestige for the purest silver was illusory if he could not prove to all that the clan was not limited to silver.
He turned, looking directly at the other dwarves, sending one of them to bring the forge and the anvil up there to set before the spirit of the mountain. He ordered one to look for a mandeira, the other to mine iron, and another to get fresh leather. His voice chanted unmistakable fury, motivated by pride and shame, to have his own honor stained and his clan in front of the spirit of the montain and Moradin. The dwarves moved like the wind, faster than their legs allowed.
In a few hours, all the materials were in front of the spirit of the mountain, as well as work bench and everything that could be used. When all was assembled, the priest began to work feverishly, singing songs of battle to calm his mind and heart, while his hands worked in the most perfect precision, never expected. The wood practically molded itself before his fingers, while the most impure iron almost shone like the purest silver, after being melted, purified and polished.
Without rest, the high priest continued his work, delivered to prayers and songs of battle without stopping his work. When the fatigue came strong and his voice weakened, he heard the other members of his clan encouraging, singing along with him, motivating.
In the end, a large wooden shield was produced using iron and black wood, adorned with details made of iron with a white dragon representing the spirit of the mountain, which held behind its wings a long sword. The blade was written in dwarf "No matter weapon, no matter the material. My work is the honor of my clan."
The spirit of the mountain smiled in approval, disappearing slowly, leaving a gigantic rock of silver, of the size of an adult dragon. The high priest, exhausted, fainted after so much effort.
Decades later, each gigantic rock of silver was carved or forged in honor of Moradin. And then these statues were exchanged with other clans for iron and other materials, so that the clan would improve itself in the production and creation of new techniques. The Priest and all who came after him carry a version of the shield and sword itself, made of black wood and iron.
The location of the mountain is known only by the dwarfs. But when a dwarf craftsman comes, carrying a black wooden shield and iron blade, any other craftsman of other clans stay in silent, to hear his lessons concerning the making and making of objets, weapons, or armor, or to hear his wisdom and words at respect of Moradin.
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The anvil of Souls
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The anvil of Souls
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/pggkzl8h7/g_RA8_Fh_W.jpg)
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There is an ancient legend, a larger entity, larger than all races, larger than all the gods together, decided for reasons that only he knows, decided to create the whole universe. First he created himself, expanding his consciousness in all directions, for instants later, to create his own hands and body, to be able to shape reality to have the consistency of realized dreams, and the physical sensation so that everyone knows not it's just a dream. By clapping, he created all the elements we know and others we will still learn. And in separating them, he created for himself the anvil of souls.
In order for his creation to be perfect as he or she, so infinite of possibilities and variations, each with a small trace of his infinite creation, he had to create the anvil, so that with each hammer that gave, reality took form, generating life, which would generate more lives and by itself, more new infinite life forms. With his willpower as a hammer, and his body as a cosmic force to create everything, the creator began to work, using the anvil, forging the reality we all live. The sparks of this forge have shaped lands, seas, and all living things. Everyone who has soul who saw creation, with their own lives watching the creator forge life in his infinite work, have become gods. And they started to sing a song that echoes for all eternity...
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At the birth of time, the beginning of beginnings
One cosmic soul was created
A bringer of life, a universal creator
Born to smith his life in the all races
Like a spark of a hammer hitting, it spreads in all directions
Creating life among the skies
I'm struck with awe as I join the great smith
Now it takes flight to the brightest star of all
On a quest for life, through the sable skies
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls
On a bold crusade, in the realm of shade
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls
Through the glowing mist, like a fog of the creation
I can see the forming of new lands, new races
I've been struck by thunder as I witness all the splendor
And I realize how small we really are
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/z3oon0vzf/nlzi8g.jpg)
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On a quest for life, through the sable skies
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls
On a bold crusade, in the realm of shade
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls
Ooh, I can see forever
On the wings of dreams I fly
Is this real or is it just a fantasy?
What awaits me now at the end of this ride?
On a quest for life, through the sable skies
What a show! behold!
The anvil of a million souls
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/5ebhu94zf/642704da0fb3e1da69092f0487ff2cf3.jpg)
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The creator continues to forge the whole life of the universe, all forms, be they plants, animals or even people. When the common life cease to live, their souls return to their gods, the Creator's earliest creations... To be created by their gods again and again, and if they are sublime enough, they ascend to become new gods, to watch the cosmic spectacle of creation by some eternities, and thus to return, to guide the new creations of the creator to watch the creator and the anvil of souls...
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The stranger cards of Amanda Blueriver
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The stranger cards of Amanda Blueriver
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(http://i68.tinypic.com/ncz61u.jpg)
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There was a group of gypsies who traveled from city to city, setting up their encampment in distant regions in the forest. Among them was a gypsy named Amanda Blueriver. She was the daughter of the family matriarch, a powerful sorceress, full of knowledge of spells, curses, and rituals. By learning various different forms of ancestral magic, her mother taught one that is no longer easily seen... The glamor. This type of spell is distinct, since unlike sorcerers, from which comes a lineage of blood, and the magicians, which comes through studies, Glamor develops in the channeling of the mystic arts through art. Or was this what was spoken at the time...
Gypsies are known, among other skills, in their production of incredible and unique art objects. And Amanda, being a skilled in drawing and painting, was soon tasked with producing her own tarot card deck, with her mother's teachings. Normal Tarot Cards let you read the luck of others, but never of themselves. Tarot cards enchanted with Glamor, the effect was very unique and distinct: It guide the reality, weaving a strange line of events to achieve the result indicated by each card, no longer suggesting a possible event, but forcing it to happen. And with Amanda, knowing her mother's instructions, she decided to make her own modifications.
The first rule she broke was to use real people as a reference, rather than creating them within her imagination. He used reference of several people he met in his years of travel with his gypsy camp, having reference nobles, plebeians and other people he has ever seen or talked to. The second rule she made a point of forgetting is that this tarot should be black and white, but she did not resist and decided to paint all the cards by hand, so real that the colors gave life to the delicately painted images.
The third and final rule was that any object or artifact created with Glamor should have only a single drop of blood from its creator. Amanda decided, within a month, from which she prepared, drew and painted all of her deck, used one drop per card, not one for all the inks used for all cards.
At the end of thirty days, on the night of the full moon, she decided to present the pack to her mother. Taking advantage of a visiting adventurer, with no one but Amanda and her mother to know, those cards were used to read the luck of the adventurer
She first pulled the card "The Chariot" and one of the gypsy camp carriages moved slowly toward the group, without anyone noticing at first. Immediately afterward Amanda showed the Emperor's card, making the emperor of the country himself come tumbling out of the sky without any explanation, falling in the middle of the river that by luck, was near the gypsy camp.
Quickly the gypsies near the river were quickly assisting the well-dressed noble stranger, not knowing yet to be the emperor himself. Amanda, her mother and the adventurer, still focused on reading luck, paid attention to the next 2 cards... The Tower and The Lovers.
And under the full moon in the sky, a gigantic tower falls from the sky, with a naked couple in its tower, screaming desperately falling in the middle of the river. Undeniably, Amanda's mother immediately noticed what had happened. The tower fell in the middle of the river, expelling in a great wave of water the emperor and the gypsies who ran to help him. The tower was fell and stayed put in the middle of the river, as if it were built there.
The emperor looks at the tower, pale and extremely confused, seeing his chief of guard and his empress naked on the balcony, fainting from the shock of falling from the sky with one of the towers of his castle.
The adventurer ran, recognizing the emperor, imagining what had happened, as confused as everyone in the acampament. Amanda smiled, loving the new power of her deck, recognizing her powers, pulling the next card... The Death!
The carriage that moved slowly out of nowhere caught supernatural speed, thrusting at Amanda, killing her instantly, running over the girl and throwing her into the river, already dead.
The mother silently collected all cards before someone notice anything, and tried for years to destroy the cursed cards, without success. She tried to burn, tear and even throw in the sea or the river. The next night the cards came back to her as she woke up, in her hands.
In the end, she hid each of the 78 cards in different places in the world. All the cards were individually hidden within locked wooden boxes, with a sacred silver box holding each card a letter explaining their cursed power, and that if they are all collected, their total power will be awakened.
Sometimes it is possible to hear the spirit of Amanda Blueriver fanning adventurers to find one of their cards, using a softly voice, asking for help in their dreams or even as a ghost. But the only cards that were found were the Hanged Man and The Fool, along with the body of the two adventurers in different places.
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Kaylessa, The Wasp Queen of Guillan Florest
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Kaylessa, The Wasp Queen of Guillan Florest
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(https://s33.postimg.cc/fn6uvj0bz/50d69724baa201319bb8116d70acf850.jpg)
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There was a time, near the beginning of the silver age, from which a group of elves hated the expansion of human civilization. This small group of elves were led by an elven woman, the daughter of a druid and a powerful sorcerer of the elven people. The origin of her hatred was well known among the elves: Her parents were attacked by human bandits, who tried to make the Guillan Forest their new hiding place.
Kaylessa is her name. And by surviving the attack on her mother's cave, and after the circle of druids of her father was eliminated, she came to believe that all of humanity was a unique plague that would consume all natural resources and would dominate all races if they were not tamed or eliminated. Collecting the remains of her mother's research and the knowledge she learned from her father and other druids, she began to develop fantastic creatures through magic, but many of them were too dangerous to be released into the wilderness, being carefully kept in hibernation in her mother's cave , of which it is still sealed.
After decades of hard work, with her thirst for ever more intense revenge, she developed a dangerous and cruel species of bees and wasps. The bees, which had a serrated wound, were capable of stinging (and sacrificing) by administering a kind of special poison, which would make any animal or humanoid species obey in a servile and passionate manner. While the wasps, in turn, were the greatest horror of all ... Their stingers were capable of causing the living flesh to turn into rock, with only a slight injury.
The intensity, intelligence, and ferocity of their bees and wasps also depended on size. The smaller ones attacked in swarms, with light poisons, but when attacking several times the same victim, she was controlled and defeated. The larger ones, the size of dogs and even horses, were extremely intelligent, coordinated the attacks and tactics of the swarms and those who were under the power of her master Kaylessa.
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(https://s33.postimg.cc/3mlev1szz/43474_1297994177275_full.jpg)
In a march with no one able to interrupt her, Kaylessa began to dominate villages, travelers and even human adventurers, half elves and elves who had the misfortune to find her... And under the control of their bees, they passed the obey and he adores her as master and goddess. Before the end of spring, hordes of human servants marched toward the largest city near the Gillan Forest. She intended to exterminate or command all humans as her slaves, but something happened.
It started the winter season.
In her plans, she did not take into account the extreme cold. Their wasps and bees fell asleep, while the effect of bee venom lost its effect ... And those that were turned into rock gradually returned to normal. Knowing that her plans needed to be revised, she disappeared without a trace, taking her few servants she still had control, along with her bees and wasps. Rumors and stories tell that she created her own personal realm, her private domain, a gigantic hive hidden inside of a distant cave, from which she is gathering her troops to attack humans again. This time, sometime during the summer or spring. But never in winter.
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Golden Lion Helm
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Golden Lion Helm.
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/4nbf2tbzf/7482531d4657f5a8931ca1a14a82ac67.jpg)
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There was the story of an adventurer named Leonardo, distinguished and coming from a family of warriors in an important region during the silver age. His father was known to be the champion of the kingdom, and his grandfather, the leader of a group of knight, protecting the regent directly while he was alive. Leoarndo was a rare type of warrior. He was left-handed, always using the sword in his left hand, and the shield on the right. This allowed him to develop a unique combat ability, distinct in his execution, and deadly in use.
Wanting to take a different path from his father and grandfather, Leonardo decided to anonymously join the arena fights in a famous coliseum in the capital. In order not to be easily recognized by anyone, he had a gold helmet shaped like a lion head, with a showy mane and as red as his red hair. His family and close friends knew how he fought, they decided to keep it safe, until the young gladiator developed a well-deserved fame for himself.
For months that followed, Leonardo began to win fights against all kinds of opponents. He began by fighting off thieves and criminals, applying the death penalty with his long sword. Then he faced off with monsters and creatures of the most incredible types and shapes hunters could capture alive. Every Sunday, the "Golden Lion" fights were what motivated the people to leave the house, to see the hero of the arena toasting everyone with incredible and exciting combat.
However, wishing to increase his profits, the nobleman who owned the Arena, decided to start a tournament, where the best of the arenas of the known world should go to the capital, and fight before all. Leonardo was excited because it was the challenge he wanted. Creatures were incredible and the audience applauded him, but he went on to fight more in an interpretive way than with his skill, holding the show. Whether pretending to lose the sword, or having the shield broken, his "mistakes" only known by the staff members of the arena raised the stakes and excited the audience. Against real opponents, other gladiators, that would be unique to him.
The fights during the tournament were vivid and unique in their own right. First was the half-orc barbarian called the mountain-breaker, with his gigantic hammer, able to make the whole arena tremble with its powerful blows. The second opponent was faster, an young monk gnome named Gimthi the windy, small, tricky and swift, capable of jumping as fast and agile as a flea, and punching as hard as an ogre. The third opponent of the tournament was an half-elven sorcerer fighter named Dramei, who knew martial arts. His left arm was skeletal. He was not as nimble as the gnome, but his movements were fantastic, as he mixed spells of illusion and arcane tricks in his movements, such as the slippery floor, the snap of fingers that sounded like a banshee cry and even the touch of death of his skeletal hand.
Each one of his fights became legendary in itself, but the last championship, among many, was the most decisive. He had to fight an Amazon. His sister. In his family, Leonardo had a younger sister named Samantha. He learned the same fighting styles as he did, and following in the footsteps of his brother, decided to start his life as a gladiator on the other side of the continent, in another arena. She was as popular as her brother, besides having a rare beauty. They both knew who the other was, but Leonardo was already well-known as the possible heir to the noble house of his family. Her sister, however, had no privilege, struggling in the arena to create a name for herself and not to be overshadowed by any nobleman who was forced to marry
The fight between the brothers, in the final of the tournament happened at noon, with the sun on top of the sky, strong and bright. His brother's style did not bring him more advantages, since his sister had trained with him since she was little. He was stronger, she was more agile. He knew how to use shield and sword, and she, a kind of spear with a semi-curved blade at the end, giving it a great range of attack....
(https://s15.postimg.cc/k3ozd6w2z/0000136_black-dragon-naginata_580.jpg)
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The brother's lion's helmet was his own, for it gave a feline agility and a leonine force to him. Already, the sister's weapon, a kind of naginata, was so fast and her movements made sparkles drop dramatically. The combat was impressive, for they were two unique types of combat, each with its own merit, strengths and weaknesses. Her electric speed, against his unique fighting style, which broke the standards of normal gladiators and warriors. But the fight ended unexpectedly when her sister struck at his helm, his blade held in the jaws of a lion that were adorning his brother's helmet. This was a unique helmet maneuver, designed only for that, but that interrupted the flow of combat unexpectedly. The sister stopped, respecting her brother's secret, refusing to pull the naginata back, tearing off the helmet and exposing her brother. Leonardo gave up the fight, refusing to win to keep his secret. Leonardo dropped his sword and shield, indicating that he had given up, to everyone's surprise. The brothers retired from the arena after that, and were never seen in any arena again, like gladiators.
A year later, Leonardo assumed the rank of knight on merit in a remote and distant region. And Samantha went on to become adventurous with groups, hunting creatures and monsters. The helm and the naginata are still stored somewhere in the family mansion, with the helmet with their fangs pressed into the lamina of the naginata, and no one has been able to separate them until today.
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Strrambarek's theorem
Spoiler.
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Strrambarek's theorem
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/ky39aacp7/break.jpg)
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At one point in the past, at the beginning of the silver age, there was a single, exentric arcane named Julius Strrambarek. Son of a blacksmith and nephew of a carpenter, he worked hard for years, trying to learn to read and write while producing his objects from days to days as carpenter, tinker and blacksmith apprentice. But in the little town that lived there existed an arcane tower in the limits of the region, of which an old arrogant arrogant and his pupils, children of nobles of several different regions, often made their commands and desmandos by all region, without fearing a trial of the authorities.
At 14, Julius already knew how to prepare almost everything in wood and metal, thanks to his great intelligence and manual ability. But he and all the young men of the region lived under sneak attacks of magical relatives and victims of irresponsible spells, in the constant provocation of the six pupils of the old mage named Maeir. Master Maeir have a good prestige and acted wisely and fair with the people of the village. But the pupils always threatened the residents, saying that if they were denounced, all the money they spent in the village would go to the other, from which they would move without a second thought. The money weighed heavily on those who lived only on agriculture and wool.
Julius discovered something unexpected in one of his days, arranging to the furniture of the local tavern... Every Friday, the group of wizard-apprentices brats visited the local tavern, to drink and make fun as never before, spending heavy bags of money and destroying everything. Money paid for everything, and silenced people. Thinking that it was time to do something about it, he decided to wait until next Friday ... And when the brats (same of Julio's age) decided to drink and party until he fell, he would steal one of the pivotal grimoires, to see the despair of them, compensating for all the chaos and mess they caused in the region every weekend.
Said and done, when one of the elders was busy drinking and flirting with one of the girls in the tavern, Julius took the distraction to take the apprentice's purse. Nothing important, other than a book about constructs and the grimoire. The grimoire was ridiculously simple, with 3 sheets outlined, and nothing more ... Then Julius left the library in a barrel full of trash, taking the book to read hidden in the workshop of his father, the local blacksmith.
Julius was happy to see so many diagrams, design drawings, and references that opened his imagination. There were things he did not understand, but he understood metal and wood. Gears and wires ... Then he proceeded to produce the design of a kind of mechanical arm, following the instructions of the book. The first model was full of flaws, but after a few days, he created a second model more improved, able to move the elbow. The fourth was able to turn the wrist, and the ninth model had the movements of opening and closing the fingers. All the movements were by strings and wires, and where there are strange marks and texts, Julius covered the fault or lack of information with simple and practical solutions.
For the next two months, Julius worked hard, mining iron, and picking good timber carefully, always working his hours off. The arcana pivetes did not appear any more, perhaps punished by the loss of the book. Julius did not pay much attention, for his work flowed and developed rapidly, leaving him proud of himself and his skill, but afraid that that knowledge might never have been shown. Julius went on to hide the materials and the result of his development in an abandoned mine, far from everything and everyone.
Over the next 5 years, Julius went on to do something that many arcane fail: Develop your own version and unique skills in arcane knowledge. His knowledge of the production and manufacture of wood and metal objects, including weapons, armor and shields served as the basis of knowledge. And in those five years, Julius began to develop his own arcane knowledge without realizing it, being able to generate magical energy capable of activating and moving parts of his creations.
In his first year working in that mine, he was able to build a construct armor, capable of ridiculously alone, slow and extremely noisy, but which protected its creator as if it were an exo-skeleton, protecting it from the elements and giving strength and resistance much higher than normal. In the third year of his solitary studies, Julius had developed a second complete version of his armor construct, called "Iron", as this was the main element he used as a raw material. "Iron" was as strong as a giant when used, but slow. Julius made a sword and shield, and when night was out to hunt, no wild creature was a match for him. He was always in a gray and gloomy fog, the effect of the strange runes he had reprinted from the book. His footsteps became more real, less massive, after Julius learned by trial and error every kind of rune in the book.
But, the few who rarely saw him from a distance, thought they were a new monster. Master Maeir was attentive, but neither his students nor he himself had found any trace or clue, discarding, as if it were a local rumor..
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/m5h727sgb/shield5.jpg)
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When he turned 22, Julius had a version that he considered perfect of his armor. And he decided it was time to get what he thought was right... Respect!
Julius walked resolutely to the front of the arcane tower, wearing a cloak that covered his body and helmet with his visor open. He stops some distance from the entrance, and respectfully claps his hands, making the sound of his metal gloves echo as loud as bells, making everyone in the area hear hum.
"I am Julius Strrambarek, son of Marcus and Marion Strrambarek. I request a formal meeting, under the most civilited and respectable terms allowed to all, to meet the master of this tower, Master Maeir!"
Julius had read too many books during his childhood thanks to his priestly mother. He decided to present himself in a not very pompous, yet respectable and direct manner, determining a knightly way to deal with the situation. But pupils of the arcane master soon recognized the name. "Son of a dirty blacksmith, now comes with all pompous knighthood? How ridiculous!" One shouted. The other, from the top of the tower window, threw a bowl of water, which narrowly missed Julius. And the third one, opened the door, leaving with a staff and an angry look. "Here we only deal with real mages, or officials of the empire, or nobles. You are no one to want our attention, or even worthy to meet our master!"
As soon as the young man left the entrance of the tower, he began to fire, without warning, a rain of mystical spheres, which flew like comets. Julius lowered his face quickly, making the visor of his helmet go down, shielding his face. In a gesture, he raises his left arm, pulling from beneath his old cloak and patched a beautiful polished iron shield whose edges glowed with a sequence of runes that none of the pupils knew. The shield received a two, four, six magical beads and reflected them, making the boy fall unconscious on the floor, size shock of the impact.
The second pupil left the tower, grunting as it turned into a gigantic troll, already moving to take a right punch. Julius already had real combat experience, and he knew the strength of a real troll, and especially his. With his right hand he grabs the troll kid's wrist, breaking in two. The pain of the arm being crushed by Julius's metal glove made the boy fall to the floor, sitting in his human form, pale and frightened.
The other four pupils decided to take Julius aside, since the defense of the arcane tower was part of his training and responsibility. They invoked a strange horrid being reading a parchment stolen from their master, spawning a demonic and vampiric creature reflecting their hearts and minds distorted by power. The first brought the creature, while the second invoked a protective shield in his black clothes ... And the third, a black mystic lamina, while the fourth was to protect the creature with a porous rocky skin. Julius saw the four pupils doing their spells carefully. He recognized some of the symbols and words, but many were unknown. Respectfully he waited for the preparations to be ready. After long and ridiculous moments, where 4 arcane worked feverishly to protect their creature from the night (invoked in the midday sun), they finally gave the order of attack.
As the horrid vampire creature began to move, sword in hand, Julius knew it was serious now. The movements were skies and dangerous, the look thirsty for blood was not a lie. And the enchanted blade was a real problem. For long minutes, Julius dodged and blocked the attacks using his shield, while saying one, dua and finally the third time "I come here to speak in a civilized and respectful way with your master."
Visibly annoyed, Julius moves his right hand, easily decapturing the horrible creature, making his body fall and fall like a sack of potatoes. The four of them fled into the forest, screaming in fear as they watched the scene as Julius walked toward the entrance, wiping the blade from his sword with a piece of old cloth in his pocket. Blood does horrible damage to metal...
The master, who saw everything through the window descends patiently, meeting with Julius at the door. With a glance, he notices that the entire armor, elaborately crafted with gears and runes, had a powerful, though rustic, mystical aura. The shield had runes that the master had not recognized, making himself wonder what they were.
Julius humbly took from his belt the manual about constructs that he stole years ago, very carefully, returning to the hands of the master, who upon seeing the cover of the book, surprised stayed, already understanding what happened.
"Did you do all this yourself?" Speaks the master, looking at the armor, fascinated by the way Julius created a construct in the form of armor, to protect him.
"Yes, I did."
"Starting tomorrow, you will study with us. I do not take no for an answer. And you will have my permission to teach everything you know to me. And you can also train and learn about our magic style to improve and develop your unique style and knowledge."
Julius became the first constructmancer, a rare thug of arcane, who instead of invoking spells, built them physically. He made each year new armor made of construct, which were servants and protected his masters becoming armor with weapon and shields, or any kind of weaponry that Julius could dream of. Julius developed several wonders, such as mechanical animals, flying books and even at the end of his life, came to create servants who were almost real in terms of expression and thoughts like that of humans.
Julius left several disciples in constructmancy, all of them people of humble origin. His creations are rare and unknown, because other arcana feared that the magical machines of Julius and his followers would dominate the world, changing the magic as it was accepted and taught in the old days. Now the histories of his creations and creators were almost erased in the limbo of time, just waiting for a new generation to continue to expand his arcane knowledge of construct constructs.
The "Strrambarek's theorem" it was an old formula, which Master Maeir thought ... That the most creative mind is capable of molding magic with you own hands, finding means to make real. Once the rules of magic and the process were formed, this person who created them could pass on to everyone who did not have in their minds about the rules already formulated in their minds before other master. Maeir believed that Julius used the knowledge he took from the book to shape his own magic, constructing his constructs in the form of pieces of armor. Julius had a natural gift for manipulating the arcane forces with his own hands, producing anything his imagination created.
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Battle for Nualla'n
Spoiler
From the Journal of Cerise De Camp
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We knew ahead of time that the Orcs would come for us. They had grown far bolder than normal, and were willing to go as far as openly announce when they would attack. Not like their army would have been able to sneak up on us anyway - we have scouts miles outside of the city walls, and they aren’t exactly known for being quiet as they march.
Still, I’m surprised at how unprepared we were for their assault.
In the days leading up to the invasion, the militia did good work in readying the normally tranquil and peaceful town for a war. Some of our finest young men and women, some of whom had never been in so much as a fist fight, were given bows and blades and expected to help man the lines and drive a ruthless enemy from their home. I was surprised at how quickly some of them learned. I guess the ability to be good with a bow is something that every elf is born with…
Elanor in particular was most impressive, both in the preparation and in the battle itself. She inserted herself with the greenest of the recruits, and was able to turn them into a formidable force that held up under the head of battle, no matter how intense the fighting was. Even in the face of almost certain death, our lines never broke.
The day of the battle, some of us that were more experienced in fighting and espionage took it upon ourselves to go out and see what we could turn up. Mertensian led the clergy in prayer at the temple to Correllon, and Isendur was out and about gathering supplies, as well as trying to inspire the troops as he walked about.
I, however, patrolled the path between the battlefield and Nualla’n. The lines should have been secured, with various gates being locked to prevent anyone other than the guards from getting through. However, on my patrol, I came across a force of Goblin Elite scouts that were trying to disrupt our operations, gather intelligence, and set traps. I took it upon myself to eliminate them, allowing none to escape and relay what they had learned to our enemies.
Upon returning back to camp, Mertensian,Isendur, Saruman, and I met with Elanor to discuss our plan of attack for dealing with the orcs. The latest estimates of the battle looked grim - we were far outnumbered, and without aid from the outside, we were likely to suffer casualties. Our earlier estimates were shown to be far off the mark - “how could the orcs have gathered such a force without our knowledge?”, I wondered.
Regardless, Isendur, Mertensian and Saruman elected to take the front lines along with a halfling who offered his services to us. If I recall correctly, his name was Drogo… I was tasked with offering support as at a distance, as well as commanding the militia forces. I was reluctant to accept such a roll - I have no experience in military tactics whatsoever, outside of accounts of battles that I have read over the years. Regardless, Isendur and Mertensian felt it best that I assume the role, and unwilling to argue with their senior leadership, I accepted the roll.
The fighting started with a great clash - the orcs came at us with everything they had, including their general, Gragnor, who took to the front lines himself. He was clad in a magic energy that made him damn near invincible. He cleaved waves and waves of young elves that were foolish enough to challenge him and sent them to an early grave. And for as hard as we fought on the open field, we couldn't wrestle the high ground from them that we so desperately wanted for our archers. Rather than continue to fight an uphill battle, we elected to begin retreating to a checkpoint in the hopes of regrouping and pushing them back, all the while hoping that reinforcements would arrive.
The orcs were merciless in their pursuit - many a good soldier was struck down as we retreated. I did what I could to inspire them onward, but my songs failed to reach far in the chaos of battle. My arrows were just as effective.
As we reached the checkpoint, a new surge of recruits manned the lines to replace those that were fatigued from fighting. However, Isendur, Mertensian, Saruman, Drogo and myself elected to stay in the fray, unwilling to sit idly by why our countrymen were in peril. We knew what failure here meant - Nualla’n itself would be the next battleground. We weren’t about to be the first generation of elves in over a thousand years to let our enemies breach our front gates.
For the longest time, the battle seemed like it could go either way. Blows were exchanged so fast and hard that it seems like a blur in hindsight. But just when I thought the orcs would gain the upper hand, a blessing from Correllon appeared before us - adventurers from Hadrian, coming to aid us!
Snacks, Cashand, Narci, Thrulithiel, Raul… Though few in number, the addition of these heroes to our ranks was the upper hand we needed to push the enemy back. And so, with their combined aid, we drove them back and routed them all the way back from their camp.
The enemies last breath was ferociously fought indeed - Gragnor, as disgusting and evil as he was, was a true warrior to the end, dying only whilst being surrounded by our allies and the countless bodies of the fallen warriors on both sides.
It was at this point that we claimed victory under the setting sun of the forest. We had each battled to our absolute fullest, and each of us was spent.
It’s unfortunate, then, that the tale didn’t end there…
As we gathered our dead and returned to Nualla’n to rest and feast, we came upon a most disturbing sight - a man, dressed in a red, hooded robe performing a dark ritual on the bodies of the fallen orcs and elves. It was then that we looked further into the darkness and saw something that I will never unsee - a horde of undead heading towards Nualla’n.
Another epic battle was fought by the adventurers, and once again, we emerged victorious. While the adventurers were becoming all to used to such events, the militia troops looked deeply disturbed as they cut down their former comrades. I could feel their sorrow in the air as they wept for them.
Whoever was responsible for this… They’ll pay. I’ll make sure that I find out who they are, what they want, and where to find them. And when I do, they will feel not only my wrath, but the wrath of every warrior and adventurer who has been forced to witness their atrocities.
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Dark Elves: A history
SpoilerThe Dark Elves, known more commonly as Drow and sometimes as night elves, were a dark-skinned sub-race of elves that are known for living in the Underdark. They earned their reputation as evil people, with all justification, though some members with more neutral disposition did exist, as did an even smaller number of actually good members. Among some, the dark elves were sometimes referred to as "The Ones Who Went Below".
dark elves had skin of dark grey to obsidian color and white or yellow hair. Rare hair colors included copper and silver, the latter believed to be a sign of a mentally handicapped person, a superstition.
dark elves eyes were usually bright red, but some had different colored like green, brown or black, but they had often much paler eyes such as blue, lilac, pink or silver - these pale eyes were often so pale that they appeared to be white - in fact, their eye color could be of practically any color. Purple or blue meant that the particular dark elves had some surface elven blood in his or her veins.
dark elves were intelligent creatures even when compared to other sentient creatures. This was not a coincidence but the result of selective breeding over several generations, and it was arguably done in a way that gave superior results when compared to their sun elf brothers and sisters.
dark elves were arrogant, ambitious, sadistic, treacherous, and hedonistic. From birth, dark elves were taught they were superior to other races and should crush those beneath them, which was one of the major factors that led to the Crown Wars.
It was important to recognize that the dark elves race's evil wasn't of inherent nature. Unlike orcs, for example, who are believed to suffer from an inherent drive towards evil, elves like dark elves chose by themselves to turn their culture into what it became. Leading to a race of emotionally stunted people, with a tenuous grasp on sanity and scarred mentalities among which relatively undamaged minds were considered abnormal.
dark elves were hedonists. They loved beautiful things and surrounded themselves with what they considered beautiful and generally didn’t pay attention at how much it’d cost them. This also extended to their behavior. dark elves generally believed they were entitled to do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted to do it.
They often partook of lavish revels, indulging in the most pleasurable of activities, including long nights of dinner and massages.[41] Some dark elves were fond of dances, including the frenzied nedeirra competition or the illiyitrii, a formal dance sometimes involving costumes.
dark elves were taught from an early age to be distrustful of others. Like in any other culture, dark elves culture expected one to advance at the expenses of others. Unlike other cultures, there were no rules for what the "expense of others" had to look like, acceptable forms included treachery and even outright murder.
While dark elves did understand the value of forging bonds, they didn’t see a value in the virtue of honesty. Forming bonds was thus a dangerous endeavor and mostly of temporary nature. Because any alliance or cordial relationship could end in treachery, dark elves went into with the expectation for the worst, and this attitude showed itself. Alliances were generally formed when one considered the ally weak enough to be not a too dangerous threat, be susceptible to blackmail or there was a common enemy that forced into cooperation. Even formed alliances were under scrutiny for signs of treachery and often ended violently. In fact, simple inconvenience to maintain the bond was a reason to end their loyalty.
They were generally expecting attacks, including physical ones, and thus were rarely surprised when it happened, depriving the attacker of the moment of surprise.
Even dark elves who escaped the cruelties of the Underdark found it more difficult to form long-term friendships than most races did.
dark elves lived in city-states with an aristocracy within a theocratic, matriarchal and militaristic society. dark elves cities tended to provide a chaotic and messy sight because they didn’t care to have a uniform architecture style. Still, their architecture was considered something to marvel at and more wealthy holdings got faerie fire decoration.
These cities had farm land, where slaves worked to get meat and crops. As a rule of thumb, half to two-third of a given dark elves settlement’s population consisted of slaves or non-dark elves without rights.
Their patron was Lolth, also known as the Queen of Spiders and Godess of the Dark. She was once a wife of Corellon, who, after realizing her true, evil nature, divorced her. It is unknown how much of an effect that this event had on starting the Crown Wars.
The dark elves were forced into the Underdark in an event that is commonly known by scholars as “The Descent”. This was the result of a ritual conducted by Corellon during the Crown Wars, which was considered to be the secret weapon of the sun elves to end the fighting once and for all. Rather than seeking to outright destroy and dominate the dark elves, Corellon came to the conclusion that banishing them to the Underdark would bring the Crown Wars to a close. They remain there to this day, unable to escape.
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Sun Elves: A history
SpoilerBy Celebrithrade Dedralein
The sun elves, were among the founding members of the Tel-Quessir and were born from the great deeds of Corellon, who is considered the first true Sun Elf. They were of similar height and stature to present day elves, but with bronze-colored skin and hair most often of copper, golden blonde, black, and in rare occasions, red. They also were gifted with green or golden eyes for the most part, though other colors have been recorded as well.
Sun elves were considered to be of a superior race to the present day elves, though whether that belief originates from scholars or from the Sun Elves themselves is a mystery. However, it is undeniable that they are also considered to be the first of the Eladrin to exist in the mortal plane.
Sun elves were firmly of the belief that they stood as the sole protectors and inheritors of Corellon's legacy. Patient and deliberate in most of what they did, they demonstrated an orderly nature uncommon to most present-day elves. Nearly all Sun Elves trained in martial combat, regardless of their skillset due to the ongoing conflicts they found themselves in.
Unlike most elves, sun elves organized their society along firm and hierarchical traditions. Communities were typically run by members of an esteemed nobility, some of whom could trace their ancestry all the way back to the First Crown War. There was a difference, however, between sun elven and human monarchy and where a human king typically accumulated influence through the ownership of land or command of soldiers, a sun elf noble commanded authority through the prestige of their family name or the magical power they held at their behest, a power they often demonstrated through the grandeur of their home.
Sun elves were less motivated to become adventurers than their wandering moon elven brethren and preferred, for the most part, to keep to themselves. Those who were driven into the world to forge a path among the other races often did so as spies or scouts on the behalf of their people, or perhaps as vigilant watchmen against possible threats. Others might be drawn to adventure by a desire to explore the ancient ruins of the world and learn from their secrets, bringing back lost secrets of magic and power to their people.
The sun elven qualities of patience and haughtiness often both demonstrated themselves in sun elf art. Sun elven architecture, while undeniably beautiful in most cases, was often flashier than what other elves commonly built, a quality in part due to the fact that sun elves would accept nothing short of perfection, working tirelessly in their art to constantly raise the aesthetic bar. Sun elf art, poetry, music — all of these demonstrated a regal attitude that had come to be closely associated with sun elven tastes. To a sun elf, the grander a piece the better, with heroic ballads or tragic epics the preferred form of literature amongst the subrace. Sun elves loved and enjoyed learning, perhaps even to a point that others might find surprising. Nearly all sun elves had access to a private store of knowledge and no self-respecting sun elf lacked the capacity to read or write.
Sun elves had a high opinion of themselves, even in comparison with the moon elves, and as a race felt that they were the chosen people of Corellon himself, selected to protect the traditions and culture of the Tel-quessir. They were created in conjunction with their Moon-Elf sisters and brothers by Sehanine, though that shared identity often became lost in their differences. But in spite of this, most sun elves did feel an affection for their brethren, the moon elves, although in a way that could often seem patronizing. Sun elves generally saw moon elves as immature and irresponsible children who, although amusing, needed to be constantly reminded of their duties to the greater Tel-quessir family.
Sun elven opinions on races outside of the Tel-quessir were far more strained. Sun elves could be incredibly prejudiced, to the point of some even refusing to aid a dying human if it mildly inconvenienced them. Many sun elves objected to speaking in any language other than Elven or even to speaking with members of other races at all. These prejudices were partially rooted in past wrongs done by humans unto sun elves, though in truth they often only served to heighten present tensions.
The Sun Elves as they once were are now no more. Their demise can be traced back to their very founding after the Crown Wars, when Corellon banished the Dark Elves to the Underdark. From day 1, the Sun Elves were too proud of themselves, unwilling to work with other races to solve problems they could not face alone. And so for centuries, beset on all sides by enemies, their numbers began whittling away.
Rather than die out, however, they were given one final blessing by their patron, Corellon that proved to be their salvation. He offered them safe passage to Arborea, where he continues to rule along with his wife, Sehanine. Together with the remaining Moon Elves, they left this plane for the Realm of the Celestial Sea to serve their god.
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Moon Elves: A History
SpoilerMoon elves, also known as Teu-tel-quessir in their own language, or as silver elves were the most common of all the elven races at one point in time. More tolerant of humans than other elves, moon elves were the ancestors of most half-elves. They were considered high elves and among the eladrin.
Like all elves, the Teu-tel-quessir were tall, close to humans in height, but more slender and beautiful. Moon elf skin was pale, often with an icy blue hue. Moon elf hair was commonly black, blue, or silvery white, although human-like colors were heard of as well, though very rare. Moon elf eyes, like those of other elves, were very commonly green, although some were blue as well. All exhibit a characteristic best described as golden flecks speckled through the iris.
Of all the elven races, moon elves were the most impulsive, with a strong distaste for complacency or isolation, which can be contributed to the influence that their patron, Sehanine, had on them. Moon elves long to be on the road, traveling and exploring the untamed wilderness that lies between cities and nations. This Extroverted quality was part of the reason why moon elves get along uncommonly well with other races. Moon elves, rather than feeling that interaction outside of their race diminishes or weakens them, believe that interacting with other races, humans in particular, was the best way to spread the values of the Tel-quessir races, thereby strengthening their culture.
Moon elven society was often loosely organized and few moon elves stay in one place for more than a season or two, preferring a nomadic lifestyle. Moon elves were generally comfortable living amongst other elves, particularly sun elves, as well as elves, gnomes, humans, or halflings. Most moon elves organize themselves into groups of a dozen extended families or so, each ruled democratically, although often with de facto leaders whose say holds more weight than anyone else's, an individual most often respected for either their age or their martial skill. Wherever they live, moon elves were unassuming, with homes just as humble.
Generally, moon elves take things with little gravity, taking joy in the simple things of life, a trend which their music and art reflect, which were more often joyous than solemn. Moon elves were themselves very fond of art and have both a strong bardic tradition and a history of painting and sculpting. For entertainment moon elves prefer to gamble, taking little risks as part of the fun. Similarly, drinking and revealing was an important part of moon elven culture.
Moon elves were fond of keeping pets, in particular such animals as cats, dogs, falcons, or other hunting partners. Many also form close bond with self-aware creatures, such as blink dogs, pegasi, unicorns, or dragons. However, most moon elves do not keep mounts, feeling it important to walk on their own two feet.
Moon elves were uncommonly tolerant of non-elves, spending as much time within other races' lands as they do within their own. While sun elves might wrinkle their nose at other cultures as inferior, moon elves typically feel that the diversity of Faerûn's landscape was wondrously enchanting. To a moon elf, the insights that non-elves often have wasa strength that others of their race too often ignore. Rather than shunning outside ideas, most moon elves embrace them and make them a part of their own culture, which often causes other elves to look down on the subrace.
The reason why their openness was frowned upon by some elves was because they believe that their Moon brethren were too open and kind-hearted to the N-Tel-Quess, thus making it seem a foolish attempt. The Sun elves have strived to help the Moon elves to try to return to the proper elven path with very stern lectures and strict fatherly advice by trying to make them look down on the N-Tel-Quess as inferior, but for a Moon Elf, these actions were nothing but a tactical weakness and therefore were a silly way to alienate themselves from every other race they encounter.
However, while moon elves commonly demonstrate a willingness to accept other cultures’ traditions and ideas they generally have little tolerance for cruelty, making them natural enemies of most orcs and gnolls. Likewise, most moon elves shwere their kin’s open hostility towards drow.
However, no known moon elven realms have survived into the modern age. Along with their sun elf brothers and sisters, they were given the salvation of travelling to Arborea to serve Sehanine in the Realm of the Celestial Sea after their decline in numbers due to continued onslaughts by their enemies. However, it is worth noting that there have been numerous claims over the years of adventurers wandering the deep woods to encounter a moon elf, oftentimes when they are in grave danger and in need of rescue. These reports have yet to be confirmed, however.
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The Crown Wars: A Dissenting Opinion
SpoilerBy Celebrithrade Dedralein
***
We of Elvenkind are taught from a young age about the Crown Wars. About how Corellon, patron of the sun elves, and his wife Sehanine, patron of the moon elves, fought bravely to rid the world of the evil dark elves and their patron, Lolth.
What is *conveniently* left out of our teachings was the failure of our race to avoid bringing about our own ruin.
The factors that caused the Crown Wars were not merely developed over a single lifetime. They were habits and symptoms of problems that grew over many, many generations. Culling the weak, enslaving other races, partaking in magic rituals that drove members of their society to the brink of insanity… These were things that were known well before then. And yet, rather than try and right their course and bring them back into the light, we left them to do what they wished because it *wasn’t* our problem.
But it eventually *became* our problem.
I love Corellon and Sehanine with all my heart, I do. And I more than anyone knows that the Ritual of Banishment was necessary to avoid the outright destruction of the elves. My ancestor, Lillian, was willing to give her life for the cause, after all.
However… I can’t help but wonder why it was forced to come to this.
Despite my best efforts, I am unable to find conclusive evidence that a formal attempt was ever made by the other elven races to bring their brothers and sisters of the dark into the light. Instead, they left them on their own, knowing full well what they were doing wasn’t right. This inaction is, in my opinion, one of the biggest blunders of elvenkind.
We weren’t just forced to kill our brothers and sisters. No, the fate that Corellon gave them was far worse than death. Banishing them to the Underdark, to live in eternal darkness and isolation… Could that fate have really been warranted?
I know that many elves are quick to forget and write off the dark elves as our siblings, but I can’t help but feel that we are responsible for their fates. Perhaps there is something that can be done now to mend the rift that has been between our peoples for centuries… I have heard rumors of Drow sightings near Hadrian. Perhaps, if I can meet one face to face, I can talk to them, see if I can fix our broken relationship…
I can't bear the thought of continuing this feud any longer. Siblings can’t just give up on each other. At least, that’s what I believe. I will make it my goal to find a way to repair our relationship and undo what has been done to them. There’s always a way… I just have to find it.
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The Birth of the Outer Ring
Spoiler
(https://i.imgur.com/1FcMpPl.png)
The Birth of the Outer Ring
While natural life as it is commonly known exists solely within the cluster of inner worlds protected by its sphere of elemental chaos, it is not the only place of habitable worlds. The outer ring of this dimension bears limitless realms divided into sector clusters. In these regions the natural laws pertinent to the inner worlds fail to exist. Among the outer ring thought and reality are often one and the same and intelligence is elevated to an entirely different plateau.
When the multiverse of this dimension was formed it was originally barren. A realm of unshaped thought in dreamlike transience awaiting minds to shape it. Lacking of complete existence it was without matter until passing friction briefly sparking against another dimension. With it the barren reality became spawned and populated with lifeless realms and uncountable celestial bodies. Energy was introduced and in chaotic flux, but with it came the first consciousness from a dimension beyond.
What more primitive arcanists describe as the 'seed of evil' which spawned the Abyss, the first of the cosmic sectors to rise into formation, was torn fragments of conscious thought from beyond. These thoughts became self-aware and began to shape the balance of the dimension in the formation of its first realmsector. As thought grew so too did it spawn consciousness from matter and the first of the Obyrinth were brought into being as the first lifeforms of this dimension.
Not a native aspect of their resident dimension the Obyrinth were unable to settle, yet they did still. In some examples the dimensional interference was so severe that native features (and later beings) would cease to exist if in proximity to the Obyrinth. The most popular example is the consciousness known as Pale Night whose being is in such stark rejection of reality that if unshrouded it may unmake the dimension around it. As the Obyrinth grew and adapted to this realmsector they chose to inhabit the natural energies released from the sudden injection of matter began to stabilize, forming other worlds along the outer ring and congregating to the inner sphere.
The first thoughts, the 'seeds of evil', began to explore the new dimension they had come to inhabit. Their growing minds were expanding each in different directions. It is so that they each came to inhabit 16 different realmsectors across the outer regions of the dimension, creating multitudes of verses within each. Each consciousness began to develop their own lifeforms and worlds developed impacted by their psycic presence. In time the realmsectors would become populated enough that the edge of thought between each would bear friction, and with friction conflict. All 16 realmsectors would develop tangible barriers blocking away the unique thought patterns of their realm from the neighbors beside, thus segmenting the entirety of the Outer Ring.
The elemental energies spawned from the sudden explosion of matter and thought had by now interlaced into a complex balance of power which proved hostile to the first thoughts. Their creations however, native born beings of the newly populated dimension, were more resilient. While the inner world contents remained a mystery it was soon discovered that an alien, aberrant form of thought had developed within this region. Native to the dimension these thoughts were the first of their kind, and they were numerous, queer, and completely unknown. The 16 creator consciousnesses coveted them to assimilate into their web and began to compete for the new power source of fresh minds.
Complete war began to rage as the Outer Ring churned in violence of competition. Creatures spawned of them would seek ways to journey to the inner worlds and spread the influence of their creator thoughts by their presence. They would seek to shape and mold minds to the thought-patterns of their creators. The alien beings would in their own curiosity for knowledge travel too to the Outer Ring and note its utterly foreign topography and mentally morphic properties, though few would know why.
To learn of the Outer Ring it must be known, not understood, that it is a place not fully material. The worlds of this ring are equal part thought as matter, imbued with the consciousness from beyond which dictates the rules of existence within their realmsector. At the edge of reality their morphic nature is incomprehensible to inner world beings, though possible by the more powerful when visiting a realmsector of a consciousness similar to their own. It must be known that the air, the soil, the creatures and all matter and immater itself in these places are all thread as parts of one single consciousness of one of the minds which first aligned the Outer Ring, whose thought-waves continue to exist through their manifest creation.
It is theorized that destroying the barrier between two realmsectors would create an imbalance in the Outer Ring. The merging of two thoughts, as potent as they come, might create an imbalance that would eventually lead to the destabilization of the fragile ring and set the multiverse into a clashing spiral. Other theories state that the Outer Ring itself is growing at a continual rate and perpetually expanding and may at some point drift too far to feed from the inner worlds, forcing a new development in the mental alignments.
The only beings which remain with knowledge from the first thoughts of creation are the Obyrinth, of which few remain and are destined to loss. Any knowledge of the first thoughts of the dimension we live in must rest with them, and they exist only within the Abyss- a realmspace which rejects and actively battles the oppression of the dimension it had first invaded and occupied.
Composed by Valistrae Torina'issa
-
Metals and Alloys
Spoiler
Iron.
Iron is often regarded as the most basic of metals. Indeed, this metal is found most often and is loved by smelters and smiths for simplicity of processing, strength and ease of making alloys.
Iron ore can differ significantly. The quantity and composition of impurities can easily determine the place of extraction of iron ore and significantly affect the price, as well as priceless for geological exploration. For example… The region around the Hadrian is unique in that the quality and composition of the ore found in it is approximately the same even in places of extraction with considerable distance from each other. Along with the formations of the lava cave, a shallow bedding of valuable ores and precious stones to the surface, and the close proximity of the passages to Underdark, this indicates a geological anomaly. Perhaps it is caused by a small thickness of a tectonic plate in this region, or points to its volcanic origin or a destructive earthquakes in the past. Of course, I'm not a professional geologist and my knowledge is derived from the general dwarven education and training courses of my order. Nevertheless, they are sufficient for basic analysis and geological exploration. For further study you need a specialist.
Iron ore also has a unique ability to retain energies, including planar ones. Many attribute this property to magnetism, but research in this area is still underway. Unfortunately, I would not be able to disclose their results even if I had this knowledge. Curious is the fact that planetouched iron subjected to processing preserves and even enhances the qualities obtained. But previously processed can not acquire them naturally and is only amenable to enchantment. The most striking example is the shadow iron that is common in this region, but other varieties exist. Despite the ease with which iron can be turned into alloys, this does not apply to the planetouched ore. The purity of the metal is extremely important for the retention of unusual qualities and any of its violations can lead to their loss or even cause harmful effects due to the energy outburst.
It is a mistake to assume that iron does not possess miraculous properties by itself. Processed at low temperatures, it retains quality unpleasant and even destructive for creatures of Fey origin and is called "Cold Iron". Unfortunately, such a blade is hardly suitable for long-term use as the main weapon.
Speaking of alloys. Most iron alloys are called steel. Some steel is not afraid of rust, some better hold the cutting edge, or more flexible. There is no ideal steel, it's all matter of purpose. In fact, most of the so-called iron weapons produced in the surrounding lands to some extent is steel. Otherwise, it would be barely fit for long heated battle. Among steel, of course, there are no stronger varieties than dwarven. Almost every clan has its own secrets of steel making and their features are different. For example - darksteel, extremely hard steel only produced by the clan Ironstar. If you have an opportunity to buy genuine darksteel weapon from an Ironstar dwarf, well… don’t think twice.
Truly, iron is wondrous metal, often underappreciated.
Arandur.
Knowledgeable dwarf can not talk about steel and not mention arandur. True, this metal is almost unknown to other races and is rare, but its existence is not a secret. Raised from the lava depths, it is found only in igneous rock. Blue-green streaked metal, it turns silver-blue after processing. Arandur by its qualities resembles steel. Not afraid of rust, moderately flexible, but its main feature is the retaining cutting edge. As if this metal becomes stronger becoming thinner. Arandur weapons is rare but fully deserve to be called “Keen”. Rare adventurers become happy owners of such weapons, and they wonder why they do not have to sharpen it. Because it’s not steel, lads and lasses.
Bronze.
Bronze is an alloy of copper and tin. Copper itself mostly used for coins, but bronze has much more practical applications. It is even easier to process than iron, so it serves as a material for household items and furniture. Its color pleases the eye, it looks good with wood and over the years is covered with a noble patina that only add to the item value. Less well-known use of bronze is to cover the steel tools with a thin layer of it. This prevents sparks, reducing the threat of fire in dry places or places with explosive gas emissions.
Silver.
Not much can be said about silver, as this metal is widely known and everyone has to deal with it. Appreciated for its beauty, it’s also known to be harmful for shapechangers like werebeasts and for vampyres. Maybe there’s more creatures vulnerable to silver, who knows? Of course, do not expect that your enemy will crumble to dust from one touch to a silver necklace. Correctly made weapons and armor of silver, that's what can give you an advantage. Silver holds well the enchantments, especially those that protect against electricity (everyone seen amulets that protect you from electricity, very practical item to have). Under the influence of strong enchantment, silver becomes stronger and not much inferior to steel.
The so-called alchemical silver is the way to put silver on steel. Thus, we get a weapon that is destructive for some beings without extremely expensive enchantments to increase the strength of silver.
As a side note, use garlic in battle with a vampire, for a short time it will make it difficult for the monster to evade your attacks. Belladonna leaves will help you to avoid werewolf attacks much easier for a short time.
Electrum.
Electrum is a naturally occurring silver-gold alloy that usually worth half the price of equal piece of pure gold. Not much can be said about it except that electrum-plated steel is used to produce Storm Stars. Invention of Netheril empire, these morning stars allow user to hurl lightning at his enemies. Unfortunately those items is very rare and I do not know who has the secret of their creation.
Gold.
Gold is loved by everyone. Soft and easy to shape. One can judge the welfare of a region that stamping it’s own gold coins through calculating the content of pure gold in them. In addition to its undoubted economic utility, gold is widely used in jewelry and alchemy. A vessel of gold, albeit expensive, can hold acid without fear of being shattered. Enchanters love gold for its unprecedented ability to hold spells, especially protecting against acid and fire. Most of the magic jewelry is made of gold. There are even armor made of enchanted gold. Enchantments on them are powerful, but the cost and, most importantly, the weight of such armor make it hardly practical for a warrior.
Platinum.
Platinum is costly silver-like metal sometimes used as a currency to reduce the weight of gold in large transactions. From platinum, jewelry for the nobility is often made. The remaining qualities of platinum hardly deserve to be remembered, since other metals exceed it in certain properties at a much lower cost.
Mithral.
Mithral (or Mithril) is favorite of elves and armored spellcasters. Lighter than other metals, while maintaining strength and flexibility. Cleaner than even silver and platinum. Mithral ore is rare, but easily distinguishable as this metal naturally tends to purity and almost does not contain defects. The smelting of mithral is not much different from the smelting of steel, although the temperature of the smelter should be higher than usual. The real difficulty lies in its forging. This metal remembers its previous form and seeks to return to it until you "persuade" it to keep the new form. In other words, you need to apply the right amount of force to the right parts of the workpiece while you keep it hot, for a long time. It is painful to admit, but in the mithril forging, the elves have reached great heights than dwarves. Do not get it wrong, we are able to make many products from this metal. Just elves make them thinner and somehow manage to apply a pattern to them.
Some bards believe that a mixture of mithril and steel can create adamantine. The only thing you can achieve in this way is to make the dwarven blacksmith laugh before losing consciousness.
Adamantium.
Adamantium is a tricky beast. Adamantium is correct name since adamantine is the name of alloy. But since the difference is not obvious, it's easier to just use both names as you like and just clarify whether you're talking about a pure metal or alloy.
Adamantium ore can be found only in places of combined geological and magical anomaly known as earth nodes. Similar anomalies of a different nature exist in the underdark. I do not know their names, but the vile drows use them to protect themselves from magical influence from outside, which greatly complicates the battles. Rarely you can find small quantities of metal in the meteorites. For those who have not received special training it is extremely difficult to distinguish adamantium from ordinary stone.
Adamantium ore is hard to process since when it reaches a certain extremely high temperature, it very quickly passes into a liquid state and also freezes as quickly. The task is complicated by the fact that this ore contains a lot of impurities with a close melting point. If you fail to divide them, then the processed batch of ore will be simply ruined. Masters alchemists are able to process this metal in small quantities. Drow handle it in large quantities, but their methods are imperfect and they support the quality of metal with their foul magic. Such items is not very valuable since they will degrade under the sunlight. You can process a large number of high quality ingots only in specially equipped dwarven smelteries, which are rare even in the dwarven mainland since ore itself is found not so often.
Adamantine is an alloy of adamantium that looks jet-black but have a green sheen under the light produced by natural fire, or purple-white sheen under the magical light. Using this property to distinguish authentic adamantine from forgery. Adamantine is known for its strength and ability to remain undamaged under horrendous strikes. Adamantine weapons are equal to enchanted weapons and therefore able to penetrate through some kinds of magic shields. From here went the manner of comparing the fists of the most experienced monks to adamantine.
Many people consider adamantine to be the strongest of metals. This is a mistake, and I will write about the next metal to dispel this myth. Obdurium is a pale violet metal which is harder than even adamantine. This incredibly rare metal represents the pinnacle of non-magical metal strength. It is also extraordinarily expensive. I will be honest with you, I have never seen a product from this metal in my life, since it is stored in the most intimate dwarven treasures. I've heard of humans with a couple of items made from obdurium, but I do not know whether this is a simple rumor or truth.
Star Metal.
Very rare and incredibly expensive, this metal is not found in the bowels of the earth. No, the only way to find it is to find a fallen meteorite, which is not necessarily will be composed of the star metal. When falling most of the metal burns out, so the pieces usually reach the ground in size not larger than the thumb. Among already rare star metal meteorites, pieces of the size of a fist are even rarer, and those that are the size of a head can be counted on the finger of one hand and entered legends. Fortunately, its main application (not counting the jewelry) is the addition in small quantities to common metals. Star metal improves the quality of almost any alloy, its strength, sharpness, flexibility and the ability to keep the enchantment. High-ranking officers, champions and nobles sometimes possess such a weapon since its price is much higher than usual.
Of course, there are many other less well-known metals and alloys that I would like to talk about. But this booklet is brief and is devoted only to the metals and alloys that most of you, with some degree of probability, will use or discuss.
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Moral Dilemmas (Part 1)
SpoilerMoral Dilemmas (Part 1)
By Celebrithrade Dedralein
***
The following is the first book in a series penned by Celebrithrade Dedralein, Loremaster and Cultural Protector of the Tel Quessir. In her writing, she discusses her views on morality in today’s ever-evolving world, as well as dissecting some moral decisions that she has faced during her many travels.
***
I should first start off by saying by saying that the thoughts that I write within these pages are purely my own, and they are by no means gospel. I am a mere mortal, just as anyone else is who may be reading this, and so I won’t pretend to be perfect or all-knowing. These are just what I have come to think and see during my short 100 year life.
Now that I’ve disclosed a bit of myself, I would next like to explain my -general- view on morality and moral dilemmas before I get into a specific scenario.
In my opinion, morality is subjective. That is to say there is no “true” moral compass that exists that can serve as a guide to all peoples due to our inherent differences in nature and cultural practices. This idea is perpetuated due to the differences between the different races and even the sub groups within said races. What is morally acceptable for an elf is quite different than what is morally acceptable in human society.
Take for example the issue of slavery. In the Tel-Quessir Empire, slavery would be considered a heinous act and as such would never be tolerated. The thought of coercing and threatening another living creature to do your bidding against your will for their entire life goes against many of our core values. This is because we, as elves, place a high importance on the values of harmony, freedom, and other such things.
In human society, however, slavery is widely accepted. This is because humans, as ambitious species, place a high importance on driving their production, war efforts, and furthering their own power. Even though most humans would likely find the act of enslaving the other to be of questionable moral ground, they tolerate it because, in their minds, the end result of furthering their power vis-a-vis their adversaries is worth the potential sorrow and pain experienced by their slaves.
There are many other areas of morality that different peoples disagree on, some far more complex than the example I gave, but I believe this is example is adequate enough for now. However, there is another topic I wish to discuss before I detail my own experiences, and that is the question of whether moral values must remain as -absolute- pillars within a society, or if they are -arbitrary- standards that may be changed from one situation to the next.
If we return to the view of elven slavery, we can see there is a bit of room for discussion here as well. While some might argue that slavery, in every instance, is wrong and must not be practiced, there are others who would say “well, in -some- cases, slavery may be a necessary evil to accomplish a greater good.” One such situation could be interrogating information out of an orc captive. Some elves would view that such practices are evil and should not be practiced, and others would say that due to the orc being an enemy and unfit to receive normal rights deemed worthy by the elves, then using evil tactics on the prisoner is justifiable in the name of greater good.
I could talk in circles on these subjects for some time, but I will refrain from doing so. They are merely present in my writing here to give general examples of my scenarios to come.
So, then I suppose I should give my first moral dilemma and how I faced it, no?
As those who know me well may have realized, I pride myself on doing good things for people. I make every effort I can to assist those that need my help, no matter how big or small the problem. And no matter how unworthy someone may seem, I will always give at least one chance for redemption. I’m the type of person who would rather be harmed by being too trusting than harming others by being untrusting, if that makes sense. Though, I will say that my patience for such things has grown shorter as time goes on…
At any rate, my first great moral dilemma came on my very first adventure outside of Nualla’n. A group of giants had just attacked Hadrian, and the many adventurers of the town set out to attack them where they lived. I got wrapped up in the situation one way or another, and decided to accompany them and aid them in any way I could. Which, at the time, was solely through my healing magics and inspirational voice.
As we pressed inward toward the giant’s throne room, the fighting became more and more fierce. However, one warrior in particular, Sir Kroznaks of the Swords of the Lady, continued to preach camaraderie and standing together to face the threats. His effort was quite admirable, both in terms of his leadership, as well as his fighting prowess.
However, when it came down to it, his words were not enough to persuade the others to follow his lead.
During the battle in the throne room, many were killed… Myself included. The fact that I’m alive again to write this is quite miraculous indeed. There were 11 of us who died that day, and just as many who were barely able to escape to regroup and make one last desperate attempt to finish off the enemy.
As I lay dying, I felt as if I was moving toward a place I don’t know, like I was floating in an endless sea of black. But while I was in this space, a sinister force reached out to me from the great beyond… It promised to return me to life, as well as give me power, wealth, and fame that I could have never dreamed of otherwise. The only condition that the being asked was that I turn on those who were coming to rescue me.
As such, I was faced with my great first moral dilemma… Should I accept this offer, or not? Keep in mind again that I seek to do the most good that I can, as my primary objective.
Obviously, I would have no such opportunities to do anything good whilst dead. Should I be able to return to life, I would once again have the ability to give my help to others, and may very well be better equipped to do so, if what the entity offered was true.
However… accepting such a deal from one who was so evil I could feel it from his very words was likely to be more complicated than it would seem. There would be almost nothing from stopping the entity from changing the terms of the agreement to fit his will as soon as I became willing.
Furthermore, turning on those that were willing to fight and die alongside me… Such an evil act would not be justifiable in my mind. While some acts can be partaken in without changing your character, an act of such betrayal with murderous intent would have no doubt changed the very core of my being. So, even with the threat of being unable to do more good whilst dead, there now existed the threat that I would become tainted and evil, and would therefore be a net detriment to the side of good.
And so I, like the 10 others, had to make the choice: return to life under the being’s conditions, or remain dead. My answer was quick: I denied this offer.
But… I was the only one.
The other 10 each accepted. The evil entity, frustrated at my adamant refusal, saw it fit to punish me beyond suffering in death… It made me watch as the betrayers turned on the rescuers who came for them. In my 100 year existence, that was the most tragic and saddening event I had ever witnessed. To see that 10 others so quickly betrayed their friends… It was an eye opening experience.
The rescuers defeated them, of course. Some were killed, others were disarmed and allowed to leave… But the emotional damage still lingers to this day.
As for me, I was revived in another manner… A divine entity took pity on me, and rewarded me for my devotion to serving the principles of good, under the condition that I continue to bring him and my people honor and glory.
So, even though I seemingly only had -one- option available to return to life, I refused to give in to despair and desperation, and another path revealed itself to me. My point is this: even in situations where it would seem you only have -one- option, or two bad options, you need not make the choice in that instance. Perhaps, if you try hard enough, another, better option will make itself available. Beware of the so called -deals- you are offered… for those that offer them likely only do so knowing there will be no way you can escape them.
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THE ENCHANTED QUILL
SpoilerTHE ENCHANTED QUILL
An elven man on horseback fell fast asleep while riding, and so his horse began grazing in a meadow. A crow flew down from a tree and pecked the horse so that it reared up suddenly and woke the rider up. "Why did you peck at my horse?" the rider asked angrily.
"So that you would finally wake up!" the crow said. "You've been asleep for three years now!" The rider looked at his surroundings, which were quite different than he remembered, and realized that the crow had spoken the truth.
"Tell me, how can I thank you?"
"By giving me one of your three sisters in marriage. Take this picture of me with you." The crow gave the rider a portrait of himself and flew off into the distance. The rider could feel a curious magic from within this portrait, but to repay his debt, the held onto it as he ventured back home.
When the man returned home on horseback, he told his sisters about the crow and its request, and then he showed them the portrait of the bird. The eldest of the three sisters wrinkled her nose, the second shrieked, "No way!" and the youngest just blushed. She took the portrait and went to her room.
The next day a splendid carriage drawn by four horses appeared. The sisters were filled with curiosity, for they imagined a noble might be calling, and they raced to the door. A black crow stepped out of the carriage, and two of the sisters went right back in the house. Only the youngest of the three invited him in. Still, the crow asked all three sisters to visit his manor.
Together they traveled through a dark, gloomy forest. They were all convinced that they must be traveling on the road to the underdark. After a while it grew light, and the path took them through a forest of blossom trees and then on to a beautiful castle. The crow said to the two sisters: "Just watch out, and don't get too curious about things." The two sisters tiptoed toward the door and peeked through the keyhole. They saw a handsome young man sitting at a table, having a cozy conversation with their sister.
All at once, everything changed: The castle and the carriage disappeared, and the three young women were standing under a fir tree. The crow was up in the branches, scolding them: "Now only the youngest can save me. She must walk to the city in rags and accept whatever work she is offered."
And so the youngest walked to the city in rags and was about to be turned back by the constable when a tailor appeared to ask if she could do some cooking and cleaning for the prince living there. She assured the tailor, somewhat haltingly, that she could do all those things, and he walked over with her to the place where she would be employed.
Before long it became obvious that she had none of the skills she claimed to have. The food was constantly burned; the silver was dirtier than ever. Gardeners, huntsmen, and servants all made fun of her, insulting her and calling her names. She wept bitter tears. Suddenly the crow appeared at the window, turned his wing to her, and said: "Pull out one of my feathers, and if you use it to write down a wish, the wish will come true." With a heavy heart she pulled a feather out. Before the noonday meal, she wrote down the names of the very finest dishes with the quill. The food appeared on the table in bowls that sparkled and glowed.
The prince and the princess were thrilled, and the servant girl was given beautiful garments to wear. She had such an exquisite face and figure that the caretaker was soon enamored of her and wanted her to be his. He tiptoed to her room and peeked in. When she didn't order him to leave, he ran over to her. "Shut the door!" she said. And just as he was turning around, she wrote with her quill: "Let him spend all night opening and closing the door." And that is exactly what happened. In the morning the caretaker, deeply humiliated, could be seen slinking away.
The next evening the huntsman came to the girl's room while she was lying in bed. He bent over to take his boots off. She wrote: "Let him spend all night taking his boots off and putting them back on." And that's exactly what he did. At daybreak, he left in a huff. On the third morning one of the servants appeared. He had a strange neck, twisted from constantly watching doves, and the fool looked deep into her eyes. While he was asking for her favors, he suddenly remembered that he had left the door to the dovecote open and asked if he could go back to close it. The girl nodded with a laugh and wrote down the words: "Let him spend all night opening and closing the door to the dovecote."
That's how she got the suitors off her back. But they were determined to have their revenge, and they made three whips that they planned to use on the cook. When she caught on, she wrote down the following words: "Let them whip each other with those devilish switches!" And that's exactly what happened. The prince and the princess tried to help them, but they ended up receiving more lashes than anyone else.
The time had come. The crow arrived, and now he had turned into a prince. He rode with the beautiful cook to his magnificent castle they lived happily ever after.
-
Snake Queen
Spoiler
**The following is a compilation of poems written by admirers of a certain Elven Woman… whom they now refer to as the “Snake Queen”**
Oh majesty
my queen
chain breaker
Demon Slayer
Oh Corellon almighty
give her strength
give her power
let her shine brighter
Our lovely
Queen of Snakes
***
The beautiful Snake Queen
Graceful, misunderstood, too often
unseen
She lacks vanity although she is
pure perfection
She slithers across the room
Regal in her being
The most beautiful mark upon this land
The beautiful Snake Queen displays
strength.
perseverance.
class.
When you lay your eyes upon her you will
know that you are in the presence of royalty
Of greatness
The beautiful Snake Queen is art
Flawless and everlasting
She...she is forever
***
As I first laid eyes upon her. I realized I was in the presence of a queen. Her very essence sent a surge through my spine godly enough for her royalty. And as I learned to walk as a knight
As I learned to talk as a knight
As I learned to act like a knight.
The Snake Queen’s gaze never broke that of the ceaseless horizon
-
The Founding of Nualla’n
SpoilerThe Founding of Nualla’n
Celebrithrade Dedralein
** Written in Elvish **
It has come to my attention that up to this point, no written history exists explicitly outlining the founding of the great city of Nualla’n. This is likely due to the humble beginnings of the city, as well as the perceived “unimportance” of the city’s rise at the time of the decline of the elven kingdoms and empires of old. There is, however, an extensive oral history that has been passed down by the oldest families of the city,
Nualla’n, in its inception, was not designed to be a grand city as it now stands today. Rather, it was established by a small colony of moon elves from the kingdom of Orishaar, near the border with the sun elves of Aryvandaar, and also not far from the border with the dark elf kingdom of Ilythiir.
The location was initially chosen by the moon elves due to the luscious forestry that surrounded the small lake and its many waterfalls. For a long time, this little place didn’t have an official name… In time, more travellers from the other two kingdoms would happen upon this small village. Some would leave and tell others about this wonderful little spot of paradise, while others would stay there entirely. With such a mixture of the elven races, which to this point mostly kept to their own respective kingdoms, a name was finally given: Nualla’n, the city of the elves, for even though it belonged to the kingdom of Orishaar, it was still considered a place that was accepting of all the elven races.
The village would continue to grow into a town, and then eventually into a city as the years continued on. Eventually, it became a city that was known far and wide throughout elvenkind. At least, until the start of the Crown Wars.
Even during these periods of conflict between the kingdoms of the elves, Nualla’n saw naught of battle or bloodshed. The armies of the respective kingdoms considered Nualla’n a safe haven of sorts, and it was taboo to venture close to it with an army. Or rather, this belief held true for a few thousand years, until the bloodshed of the Fourth Crown War.
It was in this war that the armies of Aryvandaar and Orishaar, growing increasingly desperate against the might of Ilythiir, were forced into occupying the city with what forces they had left. The situation was becoming quite dire… If a drastic plan wasn’t put forth, then they may very well find themselves in a situation with no prospect of victory.
It was here that Lillian Dedralein, youngest daughter of the Dedralein family, assisted Corellon with the famous “Ritual of Banishment” by sacrificing herself to be a conduit for his power. The ritual was meant to only banish the army of Ilythiir to the underdark… However, the result ended with the kingdom of Ilythiir being banished to the underdark instead, thus bringing an end to the Fourth Crown War.
And so Nualla’n once again found itself returned to its tranquil state… And as years passed and two more Crown Wars began and ended, the elves found themselves fallen from their past glory, all but destroying what semblance of empire they had. The races that used to make up elvenkind were no more; the elves of sun, moon, dark, sylvan, and others, either left the Eastern Forest for faraway lands, the Isle of Evermeet, or migrated away from Faerun to go to the Celestial Sea…
The elves that remained, however, would eventually rise again over time. The new breed of elf, far more mixed than their ancestors, would need a place that would be a common and accepted seat of power. And what better place than the city of Nualla’n, the place always known to be a home to all kinds of elves to be the birthplace and centerpiece of the new Tel-Quessir empire?
-
An Enchanting Encounter
Spoiler
From Celebrithrade Dedralein
In Elvish
***
For many years, almost as long as I can remember, I have always gone and sung to the flowers in the grove near Nualla’n. Though I first did so out of pure enjoyment as I frolicked through the fields, as I became older and more gifted, I couldn’t help but feel that they were… Reacting. They would shake and curl in a most delightful manner, as if they themselves were dancing to my tunes.
Years after I took note of this change, I also began to notice that they were growing more abundantly, and much more vibrantly than they had before. Some of that was no doubt due to the guardians of the forest providing for their well being, but I couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride in myself, like a mother who has coddled her young and watched them grow to new heights of beauty.
And so I continued to sing, and sing and sing… And they danced with me…
Until just last night.
I was out near my favorite spot in the whole world… For weeks, I had felt a wide array of emotions, from stress to relieved, hope to despair, among many others. No matter what I’m feeling though, this place always soothes me in a way that nowhere else can. I feel calm, clear of mind, and focused.
And so I went there, after having been through one of the most terrifying ordeals of my life… Finally, a small chance at relaxation, a time for me to finish my secret project. I gathered my materials and set them out on the table, ready to get to work. It was a daunting task, but one that I was very much forward to work on.
However… I didn’t even get started.
As I looked up from my piles of materials, I noticed a most stunning sight… A beautiful Dryad, barely clothed by leaves. Her body radiated an aura from a body that had to have been handcrafted by the gods themselves, for I have never seen such wonderful and awesome sight before. She stood there, watching me curiously…
“I have been watching you, beautiful elf girl.”
-
The Little Elf Girl
SpoilerCelebrithrade Dedralein
*In Elvish*
***
The following is a folk tale that has been passed down in my family for generations. While my family normally devotes ourselves to only puting “critical” facets of our lore into writing, I find it desirable to add this to our written collection as well. This was my favorite bedtime story to hear from my mother before bed...
***
The story begins a long, long time ago with a young elf girl sitting underneath a blossom tree atop the hill overlooking her home. One day, this girl spotted a small azul fairy nearby, unable to fly due to an injured wing.
"What's your name, little one? Are you lost?" the girl asked the fairy.
"I'm called Aquaglow, and I'm waiting for my mommy. She's coming for me from up there!" said the fairy as it motioned up toward starlit sky.
"Why don’t I wait with you?" the little elf girl asked Aquaglow. “That way, neither of us will be lonely.”
At nightfall, the little elf girl brought out the quilt her mother made her and gazed into the sky by the fairy’s side. They watched and scanned, but they saw out of the ordinary. Minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days, but still the sky revealed nothing.
Finally, the little girl sighed and turned to Aquaglow, "If we stay out here much longer, my family is going to start getting suspicious." She furrowed her brow as she pondered a new plan. "Why don't we go out and find your mommy ourselves?"
Aquaglow was pleased by the idea, and so he and the little elf girl set off into the depths of the forest under the starry sky.
Days passed with no sight of the fairy’s mother. Instead, trees extended for as far as the eye could see, making it near impossible to get a glimpse of the sky. "If I had known it was going to take this long, I would have packed more food," said the little elf girl, above the rumble of her belly.
At this, Aquaglow burst into a fit of laughter as the girl began to pout. "As long as I have Fae Dust, I'll be fine," said Aquaglow. "Would you like some? It’s veeeeery tasty!"
-
Ballad of Skaarbrand’s Folly
SpoilerBallad of Skaarbrand’s Folly
By Celebrithrade Dedralein
Far beyond the plains, and O’er the many hills,
Howl, howl the battle cry of Skaarbrand!
Their motto was revenge - “our kin we shall avenge!”
Howl, howl the battle cry of Skaarbrand!
Call forth the demons! Summoned from abyss!
Down with the humans, dwarves and Tel-Quessir!
We’ll rally ‘round Skaarbrand, we’ll rally to the end,
Howl, howl the battle cry of Skaarbrand!
They then went forth, summoned their many allies,
Shout, shout the allies of the Fire Paw!
Their motto was resistance - “To humans we’ll not yield!”
Shout, shout the allies of the Fire Paw!
Fight them in life! Feed them in death!
Down with the humans, dwarves and Tel-Quessir!
We’ll rally ‘round Skaarbrand, we’ll rally to the end,
Shout, shout the allies of the Fire Paw!
They cut down the farmers, their mothers and their kids,
Scream, scream the victims of the Fire Paw!
Their motto was despair - “we must abandon all our hope”
Scream, scream the victims of the Fire Paw!
Feeding the bloodlust, and demons of abyss
Doomed to oblivion, their souls fo’er amiss,
Will no one save us? Will no one come to aid?
Scream, scream the victims of the Fire Paw!
Hearing their pleas, feeling their rage,
Charge, charge the adventurers of Hadrian!
Their motto was muddled - for all seemed to disagree,
Charge, charge the adventurers of Hadrian!
Fighting disjointed, efforts thrown in chaos,
Cooperation became a second thought
I know what’s best! How dare you doubt me!
Charge, charge the adventurers of Hadrian!
For many days passed, the continued blood shed,
Shout, shout the allies of Fire Paw!
Their motto was slaughter - “Our demons we shall feed!”
Shout, shout the allies of Fire Paw!
Stronger they grew, the demons and their crimes
Though the worse it became, the more united their enemy
Will nobody stop us? Our victory is assured!
Shout, shout the allies of Fire Paw!
Too many victims, too many sins,
Sing, sing the Loremaster of Tel-Quessir
Her motto was judgement - “They’ll pay for each their sins”
Sing, sing the Loremaster of Tel-Quessir
Raiding the monsters, leading the charge,
Hoping to spark an allied front
We must not falter! We shall not yield!
Sing, sing the Loremaster of Tel-Quessir.
Powering the wards, expelling their magics,
Cast, cast the wizards of the Guild
Their motto was knowledge - “We’ll uncover their secrets”
Cast, cast the wizards of the Guild
Quietly they stood, quietly they watched
Aiding their allies, with enchantments and more spells
Learning their enemies peculiar use of rites
Cast, cast the wizards of the Guild
Construct the outposts, man our stations men!
Yell, yell the legions of Duakarrus
Their motto was battle - “we’ll drive back the dogs”
Yell, yell the legions of Dukarrus
Steadfast they stood, at home and on the roads
Protecting farmers, their families all the while
Push them back men! We’ll break each their ranks!
Yell, yell the legions of Dukarrus
Securing their relics, studying their artifacts
Scour, scour the protectors of Skettus
Their motto was retrieving - “Ancient items they’ll not use”
Scour, scour the protectors of Skettus
Promptly they set out, stealthily they tred,
Hunting down their weapons that aided in their crimes
Securing them each, locking in their vaults,
Scour, scour the protectors of Skettus
Supplying the efforts, assisting capturing of foes,
Clank, clank the Traders of Rischotti
Their motto was commerce - “We’ll supply our forces true”
Clank, clank the Traders of Rischotti
Swiftly they helped out, with slavers and provisions
Handing out their potions, weapons and steel cages
Come at us dogs! We’ll bring you to heel!
Clank, clank the Traders of Rischotti
Dying on the plains, bleeding in the swamps,
Cry, cry the allies of the Fire Paw
Their motto was desperate - “This is the only chance we have!”
Cry, cry the allies of the Fire Paw
Depending on their demons, trusting in their leader,
Yet something wasn’t right - the demons came in weak
Their sacrifice in vain, the hopes went down the drain,
Cry, cry the allies of the Fire Paw
The battle finally over, the battle finally one
Silence, silence o’er all Hadrian
Their motto was victory - “The war was finally won”
Silence, silence o’er all Hadrian
Once they were disjointed, now they stood as one
The gambit of the soul rite had thankfully paid off
Foes lay wasted, Skaarbrand’s soul banished e’er’more
Silence, silence o’er all Hadrian
-
A Summoner's Guide - Volume 1
SpoilerI freely admit that mind tends to wander to what is nearest, as opposed to most needed, when it comes to summoning aid. Be they animals, elementals or otherwise. It requires less focus and allows us to maintain a more powerful grip on those binded to cause. However, a child said something to me recently that revealed a misunderstanding in what the power of conjuration is actually capable of. When I asked a common man, this same misunderstanding revealed itself.
"It allows people to summon animals" said the boy.
"It allows Arcanists to summon monsters" said the man.
It is true, the power to create allows us to make rift and portal for these creatures on a whim; the very same magic tethering presence, keeping them loyal and directed to our peril. In one simple spell, an in-between is created; an anchor gives it longevity; a binding gives it safety. The last of which is of particular importance and separates the weak from the strong; one can not bind something they are too weak to make such to. Or too many, for that matter. Those that do risk bringing foes, not allies, to whatever peril plagues them.(https://i.pinimg.com/236x/61/f9/82/61f98246c229a071a98720bc8fef9259--magic-circle-summoning.jpg)
There is, however, another means to make ally; beyond drawing from what already is, one can create or conjure, you see, rather than relying on what the realms offer for company. Many Netherese do this regularly, animating objects such as lanterns or farming tools to do their work in their stead. The process is not particularly difficult to understand; an object is infused with energy channeled by its creator to whatever purpose it was deigned for. Although it takes ample energy and catalyst to see an object (like a golem) permanently animated, it is both feasible and easy to see a more fleeting animation of an object so long as the caster can channel enough energy to animate it to begin with.(https://c1.staticflickr.com/2/1138/5121402039_72d611688e_b.jpg)
Less known perhaps is the potential to animate more than just objects, however. Plants, for instance, can grow and even move more than they ever could on their own. Their growth can accelerate beyond belief, just as their movements and actions, to, be binded to their creator's will. I myself believe no garden is truly complete without a few roots feeling for the trodding feet of intruders as mistress rests. Yet there is even more you can breath life into, including other powers or elements beyond the life you give. A marriage, for instance, between this power and fire could very well give a simple campfire the power to move on its own as a whole. The same could be said of a rock; a puddle of water; even something as simple as a gust in the wind. All can be given life and purpose; however fleeting.
(http://www.biggerplay.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/art002s-798x1064.png)
If you are wondering if this power can interact with only the world itself, then you are not looking within; or between the lines. The Weave, itself, can be given new shape and form just as well when the power to create meets other expressions of the Lady's Gift. Illusions given personality. The spirits of the dead, unlife. Even raw, destructive power itself can take a life of its own if you can imagine such spectacle. This is to say nothing else of possibilities that escape imagination.(https://f4.bcbits.com/img/0000631285_10.jpg)
The power to create is the power to give life to the world around you; even beyond what is simply physical. It is a beautiful, even intimate bond between creator and creation that can and should be explored to its fullest boundaries. There are, however, those who would rather see mettle proven at their aid than risk uncertainty in their own creations. This is a topic that will be met in the next text, as it is very much closer to the traditional idea of 'summoning' creatures to one's cause, as opposed to creating one's own. For now, it is better served for me to warn you the perils of creation.
First and foremost, never overspend yourself when you are channeling power to a creation. Even though you may not need to make anchor for any rift or tear, you will still need power to make binding. Your creation is alive; it must understand who you are and what its purpose is; why it must fulfill that function. This all must be bound in an instant during creation and can take a powerful toll that only heightens, not lessens, as you infuse more power. If you fail in this, then the creation you give life can very much end up turning on you out of confusion or, worse, resentment. Second, remember always that this is fleeting life. There are ways to see them made more permanent, but they shall not be discussed in this text. Maintaining and keeping that life from ebbing free of your creations will require practice and focus (not so differently than it would the rifts and bindings from creatures summoned to your side). Otherwise, always go into a fight or trial remembering that you are on time bought in measure of your own power.
Now that you more fully understand one expression of conjuration; the power to create life where once there was none; take moment to ponder on the simple joys and merits. If you can not see them, then stand invited to gander upon my next text where we shall speak of the Powers Beyond.
-
A Summoner's Guide - Volume 2
SpoilerIn the last volume, we discussed the power of creation. While it should not be underestimated, nor should the ability to draw upon the Powers Beyond. There are many realms beyond our own that express an over-exegerrated part of our own realm. The elemental plane of earth, for instance (A place I had a most unpleasant visit towards) is made entirely of earth, dirt, minerals and whatever is squirming between. Others, such as the hells or the abyss, are home to some of the most powerful and nefarious entities that eclipse even the cruelties of men. While it is difficult to summon and bind these creatures, their power can not be denied. Nor the perils of those who reach beyond our sphere for unconventional allies.(http://orig07.deviantart.net/8530/f/2011/048/8/5/fate_stay_night_archers_circle_by_taxa1569-d39snxp.jpg)
As mentioned in my last text, when one is conjuring an ally, a binding must be made. An expression of thought and will made to ensure the creature serves you. Unlike the power of creation, however, that energy is now being spent 'finding' and 'rifting' the entity in question to your presence as opposed to 'creating' them with the infusion of the same energy. One might even stand to call it an anchor; though the magic that keeps them present is almost always fleeting save for the most powerful of bindings. Many of the same perils aforementioned apply here. Overexpend yourself and you will find friend turned foe, for example. What we will instead discuss are some of the known spheres of creation from which to draw upon.
(http://paizo.com/image/content/PathfinderCampaignSetting/PZO9225-Demonscape.jpg)
There are four elemental planes that we are all familiar with. Air, earth, fire and water. No doubt some of you have come across the elementals that often dwell within them. But did you know there are other creatures as well? In the elemental plane of air, for instance, there are creatures of the winds; giant avians, for instance; as well as magical beasts who may appear as little more than gusts in the air. Or the great oceanic horrors lurking beneath the Great Sea. They are there and much easier to call upon than, say, elementals. The challenge is knowing what they are and how much power is necessary to summon and bind one. It is also entirely possible to draw upon the very raw stuff of these planes and infuse it into a creation of your own, such as a lump of metal. Although this may harken back to the power of creation, it stands something of a marriage between the topics as you are borrowing power from elsewhere as opposed to the Weave itself. Whether you seek the strength of the earth, the raw fury of fire, the awesome powers fleeting in the clouds, or looking to see a ship of raiders devoured whole in a river, remember always that many of these creatures can be difficult to direct or control. Your concern that your allies might get scorched from a stray stream of fire just won't make sense to a creature that bathes in the stuff.(https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/bioniclereviews/images/0/00/Air_monster.png/revision/latest?cb=20091006171526)
There are other planes, of course. Each reflective of another element that is perhaps a bit less obvious at a glance. If you believe 'chaos' as a driving force in our world; unpredictable, uncontrollable, chance by its nature; then know there is such a realm known as 'Limbo'. Likewise, if you are looking for realm that stand in mirror of the ideas of 'good' or 'evil', then perhaps you would seek to draw from the seven heavens or the nightmarish abyss. So many are these realms, in fact, that it would be better served to refer you to a brilliant and fascinating individual, Valistrae, and her work on the Outer Ring. Know only that these spheres are filled with powerful, often intelligent yet also dangerous entities that may not even pay you heed if you do not mirror the nature of their worlds. Indeed, they may even perceive you as an enemy and attack you, regardless of binding. Do you really expect an angel to serve a murderer? Know also that unlike the more simplistic creatures in the elemental planes that many of these entities are actually seeking to reshape the world more to their image. Do not always trust those that seem to be under your control. That in itself is an illusion; even if the very nature of servitude is that of a pact. You would be better served, in fact, to see yourself as a door. Your willingness to bring them to our world, their key. As such, the term 'unleash' is perhaps more apt to describe what you are doing when bringing such denizens to Toril. Do not be surprised if they decide to bring friends.(https://i.pinimg.com/236x/45/8e/a8/458ea8fffd6c656a30ad3bd3c4878ac1--fantasy-pictures-tattoo-studio.jpg)
The Powers Beyond are impressive. Many are capable of wielding magic, as you or I. Some have developed such a reputation by their very displays of power that we know of them even here, now, in our own realm; worlds apart. There is no denying that they can prove themselves to be some of the most powerful allies, or enemies, when given presence. But because of this they are also the most difficult to control. This is the most significant drawback of reaching so far beyond Toril and one I implore you to remember the next time you think about binding a demonic lord to your service. It can be done, but know your limits and become familiar with any hierarchies of such realms. Never forget these three simple steps:
Find.
Bind.
Summon.
Do not perform it in any other order.
Now that you know a bit more about the Powers Beyond (those we most often associate with conjuring), heart implores you to sit a moment. What do you want in the world? What do you believe in? How do you see yourself? What do you value? What you bring to this world is as much a reflection of who you are and what you cherish or strive for no less than what you might have otherwise used your power to create. Even the elemental planes can embody this (I did not draw a line between earth and strength for wordplay). How you want people to see you is perhaps less important how you wish to see the world. When you know the answer to this, you will know who to call upon at your side in the journey of life.
If you've come this far, I invite you to gander upon my final text that concerns the Powers That Be. It will be shorter than the others, but no less important.
-
A Summoner's Guide - Volume 3
SpoilerIf you have read my prior work, then you should be familiar with the challenges, means and methods from which to conjure aid to your labors; especially in times of peril. The world is a dangerous and unforgiving place; beyond the frontiers of the empire are lands bereft of Netheril's majesty. They are lawless, cruel and injust; full of beasts, men and monsters who will not hesitate to strike you down or use you as sacrifice. The list of fates are long and dark, but so to are threats themselves. Yet, it is within your power; indeed, the very promise of Netheril; that even these ruthless perils can not only be staved in good company, but bend knee as well.(http://art.cafimg.com/images/Category_24206/subcat_61362/Doc%20Savage%20sketch%20001.jpg)
This final volume discusses the Powers That Be. That is to say, the denizens of our very world. What we can create is magnificent. What we can draw to our world has its own otherwordly awe as well. But there is no denying that some of the most dangerous enemies you could ever face do not lurk beyond the veil; they walk the very same soil as you. The predatory beasts of the wilds are but a few to name. Lions, tigers and bears. Even more passive creatures, such as the mighty elephants, can be bent to will. But there are many others. Spiders, insects, even the living dead who yet linger in our realm can be summoned to presence; so long as proper binding is made. Creatures soaring in the winds, or lurking in murky depths, to, can be brought to service as any other. This is to say nothing of the entities lurking in the bizzare, dark realm beneath the very earth.(https://pre00.deviantart.net/37a4/th/pre/i/2011/360/5/3/tiger_sketch_1_by_legend13-d4kawbi.jpg)
All of it is possible, so long as you have an understanding of the creatures. When you can direct them to action even the most unruly beast can be made to serve. An animal wants food. An insect desires a nesting ground. A beholder (As I've learned from bonding with my own familiar) feels safer when it has control over everything around it. But wait, you might asking, if something as intelligent as this creature could be made to serve, then is it possible people could be made to service? Is it possible a binding can be made against something as strong-willed as your fellow men?(https://img00.deviantart.net/9b72/i/2017/166/c/7/dnd_creature___beholder_by_khronen-dbcrom0.jpg)
If you have paid heed to the recurring topic of 'affinity', then it does stand possible that such a feat may be within reach. It would demand impressive power; the kind I have only ever seen from an enchantress or mentalist. But if one has the power to dominate such a mind, reach and pull to presence, then it is indeed possible. As are countless marriages between the different threads of the Weave. That in itself may be the greatest takeaway from this volume.(https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ba/92/d5/ba92d59c2e2ac025d1b46629559d1ea9.jpg)
Some of the most dangerous creatures in creation are those that walk, have walked, or will walk this world. As I said earlier, it is dangerous and cruel; but this only serves to ensure the strongest survive (Take pride you prosper in such a sphere, for it is a realm of ceaseless conflict). Like all others mentioned in the prior volumes, they to may be made to supplicant you as opposed to standing obstacles in life's journey. Familiarize yourself; know the horrors and wonders not-so distant from our walls. Pulling from the Powers That Be may be the easiest form of conjuration, as our world's denizens are both nearer and easier to understand, but it is by no means the most inferior. Indeed, your rival may be surprised when they find their demonic servants being impaled by tusk or claw.
While the same perils we've discussed time and again are no less prevalent, I would instead spend this time instead to implore you. Explore, enrich the empire with your discoveries. There are realms between realms and realms within realms; many of which we have never seen. Let no boundary go unbreached; see what you can accomplish with the Gift. What you can create, draw or even present and inspire your peers with may someday shape Netheril and the world itself in ways we can not even possibly imagine in this age. The only question you need to ask yourself now?
Who will you keep as company until Journey's End?(http://getdrawings.com/images/drawing-in-a-circle-31.png)
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The Battle For Southbank
SpoilerI pen these words now as a historical account of some of the various important events I have directly been involved with in Hadrian and the surrounding lands in the hope that a
more talented historian can make use of this for a more complete accounting of what has happened in this corner of the Empire. I have often considered where to start, as so many events in
have happened so swiftly, but given the current conflict against the forces of Roz’dha I believe the most appropriate place to begin is when Valstiir and Hadrian first realized the level of threat
Roz,dha represented.
For several days, a red dot had appeared in the distant sky and appeared to get larger and larger with none in Hadrian or Valstiir being quite sure of what it was. Some believed it was a star
slowly falling from the sky, others believed it was massive dragon, I myself ignored the dot in the sky as I felt no need to concern myself with it unless it proved dangerous…It did.
The first sign of Roz’dha’s danger came when adventurers came to the Southbank after a disturbance where a small train of refugees claiming to be fleeing the calamity brought forth by the red
dot demanded to be let inside of Southbank for safety. Things became heated as the Dukarrus guards rightfully felt that letting even this small amount of refugees into Southbank would only
cause problems and possibly bring the same force that they were fleeing to Southbank’s gates. I arrived with several adventurers and attempted to moderate negotiation between the
adventurers and the guards, though what I remember most of the refugees was their claim that they started with nearly 500 and were now down to almost a dozen. Such a threat could not be
taken lightly and it disturbed me that none in the area seemed to have any idea of what was following them.
The question was rendered academic as a circle of arcane energy appeared on the ground from which poured forth negative energy. The arcanist Cashand, being more experienced in necromancy
than I attempted to discern the cause and source of such a circle while I assisted as I could. Ultimately we could not find a way to immediately seal the portal, a problem that became far more
dangerous when an outpouring of powerful undead began appearing from it. Several vampires of considerable skill and wraths appeared, driving myself, the adventurers, and the Dukarrus
guards to their limits. Eventually, the foul creatures were slain with a combination of arcane magics and enchanted steel. The main issue was still the active portal though and still we had no idea
of how to close it.
I find it difficult to accurately describe on paper what happened next, as while I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye the words are difficult to find. The portal closed itself after using the remainder
of its power to bring froth the single most powerful and horrific type of undead creature I have ever seen. It was known as a “Mass Grave”, a massive creature created by the fusing of hundreds
of thousands of corpses slain in pain and suffering, each component body retaining enough awareness to know what they had been forced to become. A chorus of voices screamed forth from the
beast, children begging to be saved, others begging for death, some begging not to be harmed. The creature had an aura of death and fear surrounding it like no other, spells were nearly useless
against the monstrosity. Most adventurers scattered, Dukarrus slammed the gates shut and hid behind them, ineffectively as the creature could have simply smashed through them like they
were twigs. In truth I believed that we would all be slain and added to the creature, suffering eternally as it made its way through Southbank.
It was then that I witnessed one of the most heroic acts I have ever seen and am convinced ever will see. Knight Koznacks of the Swords of the Lady stood before the beast, braving the negative
energy washing over him and conquering the unnatural fear it exuded he stood tall before it, holding it in place and trading strikes with it. This was the moment that the battle turned, the
adventurers rallied upon seeing his bravery, warding’s against fear were cast and those that once fled turned and faced the creature together. The battle was fierce and more than a few lives
were lost, but in the end, Knight Koznacks slew the creature, its form falling back into negative energy.
I say now that without Knight Koznack’s bravery at that point, all of Southbank and perhaps Hadrian would have fallen to the creature. This marked the first taste of Roz’dha’s power that
I know of and the first time I actively fought against his creatures, though not by any means
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History of Conflict
SpoilerConflict of Two Archmages.
History of conflict.
Before start to speak about this important battle what happened on enclave Valstiir, it is important to first know history behind conflict of two Archmages. Conflict between two Archmages and enclaves, Roz'dha and Valstiir, have history of few months. Someone may say what this conflict have longer history behind. Truth is, what two Archmages was not able solve this conflict peacefully and in early days few small battles happened in lands of Lower Empire. Rumors says what main goal Archmage Roz'dha it is achieve divinity in other words to become god. Perhaps it is main reasons why Roz'dha fights with other enclaves and perhaps Valstiir was key person to achieve his goal.In majority, Roz'dha used necromancy school magic. Important to say, what Roz'dha not only achieved lichdom but also in past defeated one or more Archmages with their enclaves. Archmage Roz'dha have large experience in art of magic and perhaps Roz'dha may be one of skilled necromancer in Empire in our time. His army, his whole enclave was entirely based around negative energy and so Roz'dha army was mainly made from undeads. Though few veterans speaks what it was possible to encounter with demons and other outsiders from Abyss who was served to Archmage Roz'dha. And of course many armies of undeads was lead by powerful and intelligent undeads such as vampires, cursed warriors, wights and so on. Important to note, what in ranks of Roz'dha enclave there was also alive humans and beings. Mostly it was arcanists necromancers, servants and agents who was enslaved or was attracted by power and promises. Small conflicts and battles what was happening in Lower Empire between agents of two enclaves and their armies was slowly leading to culmination of whole conflict between two Archmages. Nor Roz'dha nor Valstiir not was stepping back and each Archmages was planning to win and slowly small fights between their agents was escalated to large battles between armies on grounds of Lower Empire. It was only question of time when main forces of Roz'dha will come to try claim and destroy Valstiir enclave.
Battle for Valstiir
Brilliant and Wise Valstiir was long preparing for what will come. All arcanists and citizens of Lower Empire was working all together as single tool in Valstiir's hands, following her orders without any words and hesitate. Valstiir was ready for final battle between two enclaves and she prepared not only defeat Roz'dha but and destroy his enclave. Risky but worth effort plan to destroy whole enclave by powerful sun-ray. It was not that easy to make and important part of this plan was to break inside Roz'dha enclave and place beacon for sun-ray. Magical staff what was trusted to one Arcanist.
Roz'dha enclave was slowly floating toward Valstiir enclave. Closer and closer. Air was foul and it had smell of rot and death. All noble houses, all arcanists and few brave adventurers was on streets of Valstiir enclave, prepared for last battle, prepared to give their own life to destroy army of lich and bring victory to Archmage Valstiir. Battle started unexpected too soon. Perhaps Archmage Valstiir not paid too much attention to it or her mind was busy with other non less important tasks or even it was work of traitors and Roz'dha agents, but Roz'dha first assault group was used Valstiir's portals in Lake District which not was closed or warded by magic. Small group was trying fight back against assaulting group of undeads and demons but it was not enough forces and more and more undeads was coming from portals. Valstiir small forces made retreat to Market District where was located main Valstiir's army and Valstiir herself. Roz'dha swiftly claimed Lake District and used portals as source for own army which was already walking in Valstiir streets. Roz'dha clearly had plans quickly end this battle, not trying give any time to his enemies to regroup. Roz'dha started send his main forces from Lake District right to Market District. But brave warriors of Valstiir repelled coming waves of undeads and demons again and again. It was single moment when Roz'dha forces stopped attacking and Valstiir used it as opportunity to create powerful portal spell what was able to bring single group on Roz'dha Enclave. Many brave warriors (and your author) walked forward to portal, promising what they will bring victory to Valstiir. As group of brave heroes teleported on other enclave, battles on Valstiir renewed and continues. Narrow streets of Valstiir was filled with blood and bone dust.Strong spells was casted from both sides and battles in different Valstiir districts did not stops. In same time group of brave heroes inside Roz'dha enclave was already making their own way to deeper parts of enclave. Most strongest undead guardians, demons, nightwalkers, arcanists was trying to stop them but brave heroes was continue their way. Even Archmage Roz'dha himself was trying corrupt and convince heroes change their sides promising to them immortality and endless power. But heroes refused offer of Archmage. Heroes was close to their final destination. Mythallar. Place where trusted Arcanist should put magical staff which would serve as beacon for powerful sun-ray. Mythallar was guarded by powerful vampire of giant size and strange outlook. No any spells or any sword was able to make deep cut to this creature. His wounds was regenerating with great speed and his hits was strong enough to left deadly wound without much efforts. But heroes acted swiftly, they disturbed vampire and arcanist used moment to put staff in Mythallar. After moment - large amount of magic was conjured on Valstiir enclave and it was sent toward Roz'dha enclave. It was enough to destroy whole enclave. Spells and magic of Roz'dha enclave begins slowly fade and large dark castles started slowly crumble. Vampire guardian not was defeated and heroes was in need to leave falling enclave before it was too late. Running long corridors and followed by giant vampire - heroes managed to escape in last moment. Roz'dha enclave was very close to Valstiir enclave and some parts was crushed against Old Quarters of Valstiir. Followed Vampire was turned to dust once it followed heroes outside of Enclave where he was burned by sun rays and spells from arcanists.
With destruction enclave, remaining undead army on streets of Valstiir was destroyed too. And so heroes of Valstiir which names engraved on statue in Old Quarters was bring victory for Archmage.
From memories of one hero.
I grew up in Valstiir, but I left the floating city when my family cast me out for reasons which are not relevant here. In the following months, I settled below and divided my time between Hadrian and Southbank. I rarely returned to Valstiir apart from the occasional visit to the Church of Tyche which is one of the few places there I have fond memories of.
When the threat of Rozdha rose once more, I was conflicted. I had little affection left for the enclave above or the family that had disowned me. It was tempting to simply let matters happen as they will. But my best friend, the elf Allania, had been bestowed with something that was both a great boon and a terrible burden- a helmet of Amaunator that many believed could turn the tide against the undead villain. I forced myself to board that airship with the sole intention of supporting my friend.
We assembled near the solar collectors of Valstiir, machinery that I could not ever hope to understand. My intention of standing by Allania’s side were quickly ended… we were all separated into groups with varying missions. Allania would be on the front line, away from me. I saw another friend, the halfling Bosco Fries, join a group that was infiltrating Rozdha’s enclave. He wished me godspeed as he departed. It was the last time I ever saw him. The group I was assigned to was ordered by Lord Dukkarus to protect Archmage Valstiir as she performed a ritual. Stronkonov was leading this party, and someone gave me the simple orders “protect the Archmage, and stay close to Stronkonov”.
We repelled the first few waves of undead horrors with relative ease. I fired bolt after bolt into their masses and sang my songs and cast my spells to inspire my fellow defenders. Stronkonov was an unyielding wall of muscle. The Archmage worked with incredible discipline, seemingly oblivious to the swirling violence so close to her person. I saw Will Rogers leading the line of defenders close to us, shouting orders as he cut through the enemy. At one point a wounded bone giant managed to smash through the line and approach the Archmage. By some miracle I was able to finish the battered monster off with my spear and a song of curse before it could reach the Archmage.
In a lull in the fighting, I was tasked with helping to clear the street of the shattered undead corpses so we had room to fight. We had just barely finished that when the assault began again. Yet another horde of shambling monsters of splintered bone and rotting flesh hurled themselves upon us. This time, our line began to creak and Will Rogers ordered a retreat to the council district. My blood was up. I was fighting harder and better than I ever had before, and in my youthful arrogance I thought I could cover the retreat. But it was too chaotic. Warriors far greater than I fled past me, and I did not realise the danger I was in until my retreat had been blocked by a mass of festering walking corpses.
With any hope of reaching the council district now lost to me, my thoughts turned to self-preservation. I remembered the streets well enough to flee down some narrow alleyways and lose the bulk of my lumbering pursuers. I found an unlocked door and hurled myself through it. As the monsters attempted to pound their way in I piled up every scrap of furniture I could to make a barricade. With time to think now, I despaired at my foolishness. I could not help my friends or the other defenders, trapped as I was. My exhaustion suddenly dawned on me and I slumped against my barricade, dozing off despite the noises of the walking corpses attempting to claw their way inside.
When I awoke the city was almost silent. I slipped out of my improvised sanctuary and found the undead that had trapped me had been slain, presumably by adventurers or the town watch. As I staggered towards the airship back to Hadrian it was clear that Rozdha had been defeated and Valstiir had survived. From the people I passed I heard the most startling tales. A servant of Amaunator had manifested and fought alongside my friend Allania. Rozdha’s enclave had fallen and crashed to the earth below. But it was not until I arrived back in Hadrian that I saw Allania again and knew that she had survived, and I learned the tragic news that Bosco had not. He would have been proud of me if he’d seen me fight… he told me once “you are more powerful than you think. If someone comes at you, you put them in the ground”. After surviving the battle of Valstiir, I am actually starting to believe in myself.
Epilogue.
It is known what Archmage Roz'dha not was presenting on his own enclave. Perhaps he was prepared for his defeat and it is question of time when Roz'dha will gather new forces in attempts to claim enclave of other Archmage and try ascend to Divinity.
Sharifa Mel'Amen, Morgaine Pritchard
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The Boatman
Spoiler The Boatman
The Western Swamps are home to a large population of giant frogs. Their presence allowed a thriving trade in their meaty legs and rubbery hides to grow in Hadrian. Although distasteful work, hunting frogs could be quite lucrative and many adventurers have made their start doing just that. The best time to hunt giant frogs is on nights with a bright moon, because the creatures gather to spawn then.
Unfortunately those nights are no longer as profitable or safe as they once were. In recent months on such nights many frog hunters swear they have seen a figure plying an overturned boat in the distance. Something about the figure is eerie enough that none have dared approach them. Sightings of ‘The Boatman’ invariably coincide with a hunter or two being found drowned in the muck the following day. Before long the hunters became very wary going out on the best hunting nights, and the frog population steadily increased. Even bounties for frog legs offered by the Frog and Toad Tavern only curtailed this growth slightly.
Being superstitious folk, the remaining frog hunters tell many tales about who or what The Boatman is. Some say he is a sorcerer or necromancer who is hiding in the swamps from the 14th Legion. Others say he is one of the Moanderite cultists who pass through the swamps on their way to the crypts. But the most popular story is that The Boatman is the what remains of a young frog hunter named Jacin Vortigern.
According to this tale, Jacin was a young frog hunter who was eager but tragically inept. Raised near the swamps by his frog hunter mother, Jacin was ungainly, not very bright, and never got the hang of essential skills such as swimming, boating or using a spear. Nevertheless, Ms Vortigern loved her boy and encouraged him to follow the family trade.
Sadly the other hunters found Jacin an irresistible target for pranks and mockery. Knowing he was squeamish, they left his moored boat full of frog entrails. They delighted in stealing his attempted kills since the clumsy young man took at least a dozen throws to spear his his prey. Then one night, a few of the hunters swam up to his boat, and tipped it over. Jacin was a feeble swimmer, and while the hunters laughed at his thrashing, he swiftly drowned in the deep sludge.
Hurriedly the guilty hunters told his mother that Jacin must have drowned on his own and they had found him floating in the water. Ms Vortigern went mad with grief, tore out great chunks of her hair and ran into the deep swamps, howling with despair. The Boatman was sighted for the very first time the next night the moon shone bright and clear. The men who tipped over Jacin’s boat were the first to be found dead the next day, apparently drowned in the muddy swamp waters. But clearly that revenge was not enough for Jacin, and the deaths have continued. Some say The Boatman is his ghost, others say it is his walking corpse. Either way, a sighting of him means someone will be found dead the next morning.
Whatever the truth, now on nights when the moon is full and bright the frog hunters lock themselves in their cabins. They peer tentatively through gaps in their shuttered and locked windows, fearing to see the boogieman that torments them so. All the while, the giant frogs grow steadily in numbers and croak in triumph.
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Tsirak's Observances and Studies of Patrician Wyverns
SpoilerTsirak's Observances and Studies of Patrician Wyverns
written by Sherina Tsirak-Copperfield--()--
Patrician mountain peaks host many creatures. Some of them peaceful, some of them hostile.
In an environment where the prey items are scarce, predators have grown to be tougher, stronger, faster and more determined than they would be in any other place. Wyverns, bears and bullettes, each of them deadly, graze the ascending grassland turning into steep, rocky peaks.
Usual prey, due to the absence of forested areas, is small and mountain chain's prey population consists mostly of rabbits, small game hidden in the bushes, and, well - of other predators.
Due to the size of adult and old wyverns, the large bears are being hunted and torn apart by these magnificent, feral wild creatures.
I welcome you to the study on Patrician Wyverns.
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•Body•The scaly, muscular and dextrous body of a wyvern bears, aside from a whip-like tail with poisonous stinger on its tip, a pair of giant, strong wings, muscular hind legs, and a draconic head.
The head of a wyvern is a beautiful sight of nature. Balance of tan-brown scales and greyish fur growth, with their cold eyes staring from under a thick brow bone, and their maw, able to tear apart a dire bear with the sheer strength of its jaw and fangs. Their ears are hidden beneath a small tuft of fur behind fin-like shapes on the sides of its head, so the sensitive organ is being protected from strong winds.
| (https://i.imgur.com/emxATYH.jpg) | (https://i.imgur.com/vQWRLbB.jpg) |
Their wings, able to fly and glide through the sharp mountain wind, are strong and often used both as wings and as front legs.
The wing thumbs allow the wyvern to climb cliffs and rocky mountainsides, thus allowing it a chance to sneak up on its prey.
Besides their blood and scales, their tail stinger and poison can be used for weapon crafting.
As soon as the poison gets into a bloodstream, the victim suffers a great pain, and can succumb quickly if their body is frail.
Their hide, scale spine plates and wing membrane can be used to craft light armor. And by using the wing membrane for joint areas, the movements of the wearer won't make any detectable sound.
•Behavior•Territory markings of wyverns include claw scratches, rubbed trees (which matches the territory marking of bears), and faint trails of poison-tinted rock or foliage. In fact, a wyvern will rarely steal the prey of another wyvern.
•Social•Even though mostly solitary, the young wyverns of the Peaks can be found in groups, wandering the lower grassy parts of the mountain chain.
Another exception seem to be giant bear hunts, where a handful of wyverns will swoop down onto the back and head of the monstrous creature, beating it down with their wings, rending its flesh with their claws while they use their beastly maws to crush and snap through the thick bones of their prey.