Netheril : Age of Magic

In Character => Journals & Backgrounds => Topic started by: Shantis on May 29, 2018, 02:41:40 am

Title: Aquaria Blackstone (Background and journal)
Post by: Shantis on May 29, 2018, 02:41:40 am
Spoiler
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Name: Aquaria Blackstone
Age: 20 years old
Hair: White hair
Eyes: Blue
Height: 5.6 / 1.72
Parents: Pamela and Arthur Blackstone
Work: Relic Hunter

Background: Daughter of a couple of relic hunters, Aquaria spent part of her childhood traveling and visiting ruins, accompanying her parents on the hunt for collection of ancient and historical artifacts. Her mother, Pamela was a treasure hunt, while her father, Arthur, was an experienced mage. At age 16, Aquaria decided to continue in the family profession while her parents finally decided to retire, after Arthur lost a leg in an accident years ago in one of the traps inside a dungeon.

Four years later, at age of 20, Aquaria start to hunt relics alone in the world.

The white hair is in part the representation of a contract between the guardian of the family, a pseudo-dragon named "Koin" (Coin) that is passed down from generation to generation, teaching arcane tricks and serving as a guide and guardian of the family. In part, the aid contract is sealed by donating 10% of all treasure found to Koin, who keeps personal savings and treasuries. In return, the pseudo-dragon provides help, teach about arcane knowledge (at least, in a starting point as beginner) and being invoked for small services and physical protection of her protege. All blackstone relic hunters wear white, or have white hair.


About the Relic Hunter work: Relic Hunters is a class that blends thief skills (opening locks, disarming and trapping, pricing rare items) and arcane or cleric knowledge (wiz, sorc, or cleric) with the function of recovering or protecting historical or mystical artifacts of great importance, be it financial, historical or religious. The profession is usually associated with temples, arcane groups or nobles with an interest in collecting rare objects... In addition those who have a historical interest in researching ancient art and objects, with the intention of publicizing to public these interests. Occasionally, it is possible to find relic hunters acting independently, serving as evaluators and negotiators, becoming neutral in places where artifact trading is very popular.

Relic hunters have divine or arcane knowledge as part of their work focus, as well as protection and assurance of evaluation of objects to be collected. The rogue abilities to disarm traps and open locks guarantee an additional layer of security in protecting the objects rescued. Invisibility spells, weight-carrying magic discs, bull power and others type of spells are used in a practical way to transport and protect artifacts. In addition to small cantrips to change equipment quickly, allowing a more agile focus on reinforcing the mystic side or reinforcing the combat side, alternating arcane clothing with an enhanced leather outfit.

Regardless of the focus of work, be independent, or with nobles, magicians or with the church, the relic hunter is more a kind of researcher and field historian than a politician or merchant. It focuses on the recovery and protection of these artifacts.


Title: Stories of a Lost World - Legend of the 5 Swords
Post by: Shantis on June 01, 2018, 05:46:04 am
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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Spoiler
Legend of the 5 Swords
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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.


Title: Re: Aquaria Blackstone (Background)
Post by: Shantis on June 01, 2018, 12:06:04 pm
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*

Spoiler
Grig...

A strange weird fairy, who sells treasure maps. Maybe the only ones in the area. Much has been said about her and the treasure maps. The first fact is that fairy sells fake maps, in the middle of real maps. This is expected, since the fairy herself has a posture of practicing tricks and trotting. She sells maps for a symbolic price, around 125 coins.

But what is disconcerting is the maps that are real, with treasures. They all lead to dead bodies, with hidden treasures. This raises all kinds of theory.

The first was that it is a kind of serial killer, which has fun killing adventurers who fail to find real treasures, burying them and placing small treasures, and then being found by other adventurers.

Another is that she hates humans, and the bodies are of human victims who have been killed by assassins of some guild of thieves, or followers of a dangerous group in Sullivans.

This raises another question. The greed of the adventurers, in constantly buying new maps, never make them question the origin of the bodies. At most, one comment or another, before buying new maps a few days later.

As the saleswoman is in a distant land, protected by other laws full of non-human creatures, the empire and the noble houses probably do not mind at least as long as the bodies found are not of any influential member of the small human society.
Title: Re: Aquaria Blackstone (Background)
Post by: Shantis on June 01, 2018, 12:14:45 pm
*Aquaria spend some moments, before making some new notes in the her journal*

Spoiler
Agnes...

Many adventurers know her for constantly losing her unicorn, a small stuffed animal in Hadrian.

But many things about Agnes are not clear. Constantly, the same prostitute and the same gigolo speak to her at night, every night and it is possible to see Agnes playing and hugging the same prostitute. I wonder if she's another street orphan, adopted by the unnamed prostitute, or that woman is her mother. The gigolo talks to her quickly, they exchange a few words and he goes his way.

One of the theories I have heard that has been raised is that the stuffed animal, constantly lost, is a way of sending messages to a thieving guild that operates inside Hadria... Or it is a way to mark new adventurers, to locate and test possible good samaritans, who can cause trouble to thieves in the future. And that the gigolo would steal the unicorn plush every night, to hide, using Agnes as a catalyst for the adventurers, who would help without a second thought...
Title: Re: Aquaria Blackstone (Background and journal)
Post by: Shantis on June 01, 2018, 12:29:29 pm
*Aquaria spend some moments, before making some new notes in the her journal*

Spoiler
Sewers in Hadrian...

The sewers of this city are large, but some things have attracted my attention. I investigated the sewers recently, out of mere morbid curiosity, for I noticed a suspicious man guarding the entrance to one of the sewers. I soon thought, "There's something wrong there." Like any relic hunter, it piqued my curiosity.

Something interesting about the sewers of the city, is the existence of venomous snakes. Something totally out of the ordinary in sewers. I would expect cockroaches, rats and even some dangerous creature like cubic slimes. But snakes?

Much is said of a possible guild of thieves. The possibility of them catching and releasing snakes in the sewers as a form of additional protection is quite strong. This idea is reinforced by the presence of sealed doors and crates in the sewers, with strong and well built locks, difficult to access to unlock by the normal or magical ways. Believe me, I tried both.

Since I was using arcane invisibility spells all the time, no one saw me come in and out of the sewers, allowing myself to go unnoticed by the area on my quick visit.

But the possibility of a guild of thieves existing in the sewers would be too ironic, since all the noble houses want to hunt the bad guys so badly in public, but they does not move own resources to hunt of efficient form, therefore probably the guild must have some type of agreement or means of blackmail against influential people in Hadrian.

I suspect that the guild of thieves with assassins, is acting veiled under orders from one of the great noble houses of the region, for having this kind of protection...

Title: Stories of a Lost World - The Moradin's Coin
Post by: Shantis on June 03, 2018, 12:12:58 am
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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Spoiler
The Moradin's Coin
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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.

Title: Stories of a Lost World - Silver Mountain Dragon Shield and Sword
Post by: Shantis on June 03, 2018, 02:03:28 am
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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Spoiler
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Silver Mountain Dragon Shield and Sword
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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.


Title: Stories of a Lost World - Golden Lion Helm
Post by: Shantis on June 04, 2018, 08:12:16 am
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*

Spoiler
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Golden Lion Helm.
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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...

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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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Title: Stories of a Lost World - Strrambarek's theorem
Post by: Shantis on June 05, 2018, 05:46:40 am
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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Spoiler
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Strrambarek's theorem
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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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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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Title: Stories of a Lost World - The Garden of the sisters
Post by: Shantis on June 06, 2018, 01:20:26 am
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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The Garden of the sisters
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/ngqbx6d9n/81b0bc0c8965cb6a9f50de6ca62f6a3a.jpg)
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The age has already been forgotten, and the names and places do not matter so much now. But formerly, in ancient times, there was a strange and unique sisterhood, possessing only women. All of them were orphans, widows, or victims of wars. No matter the race, origin or whether he was noble or poor. They were just women. Sisters of suffering, silently watching the world crack and collapse part by part.

Gods had bigger plans for their champions, but none for their victims. Whether they are pale as ghosts, skeletal because of hunger, or bathed in blood, trying to survive a world that even the goddesses themselves can not protect, every woman has become a link of a long chain of sadness or pain, trying to believe that every life matters , and that each victim could be saved.

Turning their backs on any kind of god, be it good or bad, loyal or chaotic, pure or corrupting, they decide to follow their own steps, without lowering their heads, acting in silence, listening to the cries of those who have been, protecting those who need to be protected, healing and walking in different directions, with no destination, just surviving.

They do not have symbols, names or titles, they are just "sisters" among them. They were not noble or possessed, for all they knew and could do was to go forward, trying not to repeat the mistakes of their own past and their sisters... In different places of the world, each group of sisters built themselves a great labyrinth, without traps and monsters, only the frigid sad wind whispering like a faint wail. In its confused and long tunnels, it was possible to see rock plates, carved in detail images of each sister's life, from where she came and from where she followed, until the day of her death. There were no runes or words, only images, leaving for each sister or visitor the difficult task of interpreting everything they saw and heard within that labyrinth.

When walking, gradually it would be possible, in the lower levels of the long maze, several pots, with strange roses without spines, of different colors. Some are pink, some red, some yellow, and even white or blue. The flowers grew in total absence of light or water, taking decades to grow, only fed by the wetness and dust of the gentle wind brought from small entrances at the top of the labyrinth.

The sisters abandoned any mortal faith, whether by gods, entities, or persons. They had faith in themselves and their sisters. Her hands healed, in exchange for the life force of their own lives. They could revive anyone with a simple touch, or regenerate limbs and body parts, purifying in a fantastic and miraculous way.

The only ones allowed to be treated by type of blessing were the sisters' friends, relatives, and husbands. They calculated the value of a person, making a cold, but exact mental calculation of how many days they would have to lose of their own life to heal someone or to revive. Children and mothers were never charged while men were devalued. Good people paid symbolic prices while cruel and greedy had a high price. It was not origin or race, but what each person was in the eyes of one of the sisters. To those who revived, they respectfully demanded that at the death of the final death, that their bodies should be delivered to them, in order to return the other sisters to the life they lost by saving other lives. Whoever accepted, had the respect of a sister. Those who refused were never healed or treated by them again. But an unique trait, each time an sister heal or help someone with her powers, she ages temporarily, like an old exhausted and weak.

The bodies were cremated, for the ashes to feed the special roses of the sisters, whose petals possessed the gift of reviving even gods. And these petals were prepared, with a special recipe that only a sister knew ... A strange green elixir, that when being shed a drop in the tongue, healed completely or revived a person. If a disease affected a region, it was possible to see a sister discreetly emptying a bottle of elixir in a river or lake, gradually returning to life the nature of the region.

But among the strange mysteries and stories involved all the sisters, they were recognized only as one recited a song, of which upon being heard by another female voice, her eyes gleamed silver, while her heart pulsed in a green light , revealing that the elixir bottle resided magically in her body. The song was actually a sad and distant song, only sung by them when a sister died trying to save lives, or when they wanted to pay homage to another woman. The song is distant and almost forgotten, and today, when recited, rarely people can remember.

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Title: Stories of a Lost World - The Anvil of Souls
Post by: Shantis on June 06, 2018, 05:20:49 am
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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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...

Title: Re: Aquaria Blackstone (Background and journal)
Post by: Shantis on June 06, 2018, 06:15:26 am
Aquaria stays in her room in Hadrian, reading various notes and piles of old books she found in dungeons, ruins and all sorts of strange places. In the middle of that confused pile of material that only she understood, was Koin, her little pseudo-dragon sleeping on top of another book.

Spoiler
She tries slowly to translate those letters. Each letter represented a sound, but also a meaning. So if the lyrics were written backwards, it had the reverse direction, but it kept the sound. And if it was written upside down, the context was different. And if it were inverted and upside down, another. The code was a boring and difficult to use... It was possible to utter through vocal sounds an entire story in small, hand-picked sentences. Or he could only speak the lyrics in a slow but almost musical way, associating between 2 and 5 of them, forming a reasonable line of text when translated.

She remembers the transmissions she made through the strange mage in the town square, using his services of magical proclamations in Hadrian. She used two layers of code. The vocal concealed between common words, and a more pure, with groupings of 2 to 5 letters. She knew those messages would reach everyone's ears within the reach of her messages. And probably a lot of unexpected people, or strangers, would at a certain point break the code, fully understanding what was being transmitted. Or worse, someone would try to talk to her directly, demanding explanations and how that code could be translated, since curiosity is something that motivates people as much as greed.

She breathes deeply and smiles, knowing that her translated texts rested in safely inside of the library in Vastiir, and although the legends and stories have some great importance to her, she knew that the sounds of those words she sent in story form might someday matter if she die or disappear without leaving traces.

Spreading stories, poetry, and songs to libraries and certain contacts may not be the most efficient way to search for relics, but your contacts are slowly expanding. His song about the sisters might have generated some future reaction. Or who knows, someone who can help in certain matters will appear. Or she's still alone with her plans, plans, and a relaxed pseudo-dragon sleeping in her old books.


Slowly, Aquaria begins to re-tell the story she has just translated, listening her how voice, checking how it is written, how it is written and to whom it is written. His pseudo-dragon awakens, watching her tell the story about the forge of souls. She carefully sings the song again, checking the sonority of everything and how some parts are described, even though it does not make sense....

Spoiler
Carefully, she chose the words with direct sonority of the symbols that only other relic hunters knew. The sound of each symbol resembled words, and anyone reading such a text could carefully re-read it differently, understanding the hidden message behind each word, each letter. But the code would only be understandable if you knew the written code directly. The sound would only report part of the message, but not all of it. Sometimes less is more.


She stops, and says  in sequence "Leave the word, seek the world. Listen and wish, read and risk. And remember the whisk"...
Spoiler
...And thinks "I'll have to be more careful. Some people are already noticing and translating some easy parts of the codes, as well as recognizing references from old stories, but not as relic hunters or trusted contacts...

She stops singing the poems and letters of the stories already translated, starting to work on the translation of new stories...
Title: The Druid Stone Song
Post by: Shantis on June 07, 2018, 04:48:31 am
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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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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Title: The stranger cards of Amanda Blueriver (I)
Post by: Shantis on June 08, 2018, 02:02:04 pm
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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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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Title: Kaylessa, The Wasp Queen of Guillan Florest
Post by: Shantis on June 09, 2018, 03:55:53 am
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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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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Title: Soul Blaze
Post by: Shantis on June 09, 2018, 06:26:32 pm
*Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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Soul Blaze
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/764yw0s1n/spirit-sword-fantasy-art.jpg)
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There was a human hero in the silver age known for having an incredible sword, called Soul Blaze. Its blade was capable of decapturing any creature, while there was a flaming aura around the blade. This looks like a common arcane spell, which we all now know. But the blade had a much more evil secret... It fed souls. To each enemy the hero killed, the blade quenched its thirst, draining the souls into its metal, eternally torturing them, and its suffering made it create the incredible flaming aura that all the others saw, not knowing how the blade acted . Everyone, including the human hero, believed that the weapon was blessed, becoming the symbol of their troops hunting orcs.

However, years later, the hero retired, passing to his son the blade. And so, for almost five generations the cursed weapon was collecting souls, without anyone noticing. One night, the hero's descendant, his fifth descendant decided it was time for him to pass on the legacy and the name of his family forward. And he was ready, preparing his son to come of age, and to receive from him the Soul Blaze that went through so many generations.

When the blade was delivered to the young, the blade flashed with an intense black flame, and immediately began to expel the souls of all it captured and consumed slowly, turning them into slaves. Men, women, orcs and even dragons made of the purest and most intense flame left the blade, attacking everything and everyone around them.
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/dmdxmmg63/ndice.jpg)

To each person killed by the flames, a new guns and flaming equipment was created on the remains of their bodies. They were spears, bows, swords, shields, helmets, and all kinds of beautiful equipment of incredible quality ... The bodies of the whole kingdom, instead of becoming ashes, became weapons. Even plants and animals have become some kind of equipment or weapon. The lands became a barren wasteland, with no life.

The cursed, contented Soul Blade buries itself in the center of the desert, generating itself a lair, full of servants made of flame carrying its "sons and daughters" from which the soul has taken to itself. And the entrance of this dungeon arises only at noon, in remote places, where the sun shines brighter. This entrance attracts adventurers who explore there and die in their cursed corridors, becoming eternal victims of the weapon. Those who manage to escape carry with them cursed weapons and pieces of equipment that protect them against fire or have aura of flame...

Now, in the present day, various weapons and even relics with this power is seen with care. No one can know if it is a real or cursed object. With each life that it takes, it feeds Soul Blaze in its lair, sending to the lamina the souls that it collected. And so, it awaits the propitious moment to attack and devour whole kingdoms, savoring for eternity its present victims, while it accumulates power to attack again.

Beware of warriors and adventurers with guns and equipment with flames. If your behavior changes completely, or you feel pleasure in feeding your weapons with the blood of your enemies, it is surely the influence of Soul Blaze through your servants in the form of weapons and equipments.
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Title: Re: Aquaria Blackstone (Background and journal)
Post by: Shantis on June 09, 2018, 06:36:40 pm
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*

Spoiler

For now, a version of the sisters song. I conveyed through the magical proclamation, trying to test the veracity of the music, and also to verify if the legend was true, looking for some descendant of the sisters or even them, if the group really exists. After long days, there was no response. Probably if they exist, they are careful to hear loud and clear their song of regret being exposed to the whole world. Maybe someday I find the The Garden of the sisters, but this need time and more research... Writing now the whole song. Maybe I can find a better clue in the future.

"Your journey's over
While standing on the edge
And close your eyes
To this world of lies"

"Our will is broken
It's the end of all our dreams
My soul yearns
For the valley of our sisters"

"Your rose has withered
It will never bloom again
The soil is dry
Time has come to finally die"

"Our faith has left us
They've stolen all our freedom and dreams
Oh lay we down
In the valley of our sisters"

"Your search has ended
Your name is carved in stone
On our temple walls
Beyond any gods call"

"No holy sunrays
Will light our tomb of dreams
We won't return
From the valley of our sisters"
Title: The Fall of Snacks
Post by: Shantis on June 11, 2018, 04:12:44 am
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*

Spoiler
The fall of Snacks

We enter this distant place
Here in this vast hall where even life fear the shadows - Here we must confront our past.
If you have killed, beware of the Baron or Lord for greedy for men.
There, the disembodied will of the lost and losers in the world becomes flesh once more.
I pity the men without honor and ones with weak will.
For here blood runs cold...

The cries from the grave resound in my ears
They hail from beyond my darkest fears
Faces of the past are etched in my brain,
All women they deceived, the men they slain.

Shades of the dead are sliding on the wall, demons dance in the tomb hall.

I call upon an old sword, the mighty of the lady, grant me the skill to fulfill my quest.
I call upon my leader and our knights of the a distante tale, grant me the courage to stand to this test.
I call upon the bard, a priest or a huntress. Grant me the magic to end my pain.
I call upon the spirit that lives in a noble heart, grant me the passion that's within my veins.

Shades of the dead are sliding on the wall. Demons dance in the tomb halls.
Title: The Sisterhood of the Wasp
Post by: Shantis on June 12, 2018, 06:12:10 am
Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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The Sisterhood of the Wasp
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/e151em9uj/natalia-malinina-malinina-big-2.jpg)
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When the invasion failed, Kaylessa, the wasp queen (https://netheril.net/forums/index.php?topic=1068.msg4192#msg4192) decided was time to instead of having slaves without minds, but was necessary to have people capable of thinking and acting on their own, but faithfully following the values and goals she commanded. For 50 years, Kaylessa began to develop a new type of servant. With her experiences in staying young already bore fruit, Kaylessa started to kidnap girls from various parts of the kingdom, all children, and of various different races.

In these 50 years, she has had at least 10 different generations of female servants: Hybrid women with wasp and bees characteristics, but more humane and with a more pleasant appearance. All his research was based on creating a new version of his servas, from which they could keep indefinitely, recovering and expanding her domains. The elves became the overseers, thanks to Queen Kaylessa's favor in allowing her own new race to be superior to all others. The female humans, because they had short lives, were assigned to be combat soldiers, while the half-elves and half-bloods of orcs were sent into groups of their own to act more ferociously. They had more life, but an intensity of combat without equal. Gnomes and hins became laborers in Kaylessa's hive.

Not to fear being betrayed, Kaylessa gave the life expectancy of her servants as young as 5 years. In the first one has the increased alchemical mutation through charms and special runes, to generate an organic armor, with wings similar to wasps and bees. In the second year, with the already physically grown children, with adult appearance and their already living insect armor, being a part of the women, undergo a rigorous six-month training along with the hive veterans.

Her mentality was shaped like a beehive. The servants saw Kaylessa as queen and mother, completely servile and obedient to her. However, after the training each of them began to develop a certain degree of individuality. Those who fought best, those who were better at leadership, the others who were more capable with arcane powers, and even some who idolized and prayed to Kaylessa as godness, developing strange and unique powers like a priestess.

When Kaylessa felt pleased with the new kind of servant, she thought it was the right time to start a new invasion. She sent her warriors only at night, to attack several villages and villages at night. His servants only robbed the girls, as young as possible. And sometimes, one or the other captured a guy whom the servants thought fit to entertain Kaylessa for some time, before he was cruelly killed.
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What Kaylessa had not foreseen was that some of her servants had acquired such individuality as to escape her mental and social control. Those who were mortally wounded in combat against adventurers and survived, left their insect armor dead behind and hide with the other races, acting as assassins and thieves. They were lighter than a hin, but stronger than a half-orc. His ability and speed of combat were incredible, but his habits were scattered and dangerous. If they felt hungry, they would kill for food. If they felt cold, they would attack a family to live inside the house at night. If they felt lonely, try to capture a man try to entertain her.

Their lives were driven by instincts, their thoughts and individualities now uncontrolled, with no queen to say what to do, no hive to give work, no training to survive on their own. They were free, but they could not live without anyone teaching or commanding them.

Kaylessa, the Wasp Queen returned to her plans, and eventually disappeared again in time, planning another return, after become ready to attack all humans. But the servants lost were considered defective, and now live in caves, in small communities. These lost servants created their own hives, where the oldest is the new "queen." Unable to create armor that was developed by Kaylessa, or to be able to create new servants through their rituals and alchemy, the lost wasps captured men to reproduce en masse at the end of their lives, generating offspring with only five years to live. The lost wasps and their renegade hives lived the same as Kaylessa's loyalists, but because of their renegade and free life, they paid dearly, living intensely, but afraid of being discovered by adventurers and huntsmen, or that Queen Kaylessa herself would send them away. kill, since none of them could deny an order of the queen...

Some rumors gived a name for the lost wasps: The sisterhood of the Wasp.
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Title: The Daughters of Forests
Post by: Shantis on June 12, 2018, 08:03:05 pm
Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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The Daughters of Forest
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/dzrf9rdt7/640x480_20317_Saygon_2d_fantasy_bear_creature_picture_image_digi.jpg)
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Druids...Many stereotypes are made. They are old men in rags, as they walk through the forest surrounded by animals, speaking as if they were crazy. Or graceful young men or girl, walking half-naked through the forests, like a teenage dream. Nothing further than the truth. Druids are ordinary people, living in communities in the middle of the forest in harmony. They are people who have families and friends, who live long periods in the middle of the forest and in nature, know how to interact with society, even if they do not feel comfortable.

Druids live apart from each other, gathering in their circle casually, with no rules or time set. They walk in pairs, usually with an apprentice and a veteran, who teaches them everything. Or they live in small camps with their families, who are also druids or live in harmony in the forest. When they need to meet with the civilized peoples of mankind, the Druids understand human nature... And they dress as beggars, or old fools, and walk before human society, invisible, with no one wanting to notice them. They walk and hear everything, for no one notices poverty, besides the good hearted. And it is in this conception of invisibility of the community that druids walk among civilized humans to gather information. No one notices the old woman who lives in the streets, or the dirty beggar who wanders the night. But if the danger appears, they turn into animals, fleeing back into the forest.

Among the different types of circles, there is one called The Daughters of the Forest. A group of female descendants of the circle of druids that originally turned stone, to protect a forest and life in the kingdom, in a distant past. They are everything, less beautiful as believe the idiocy of civilized human man. They are filthy and ugly as they wander around the city, disguised as beggars, crazy old women, and every kind of disguise that causes others to ignore them. They say nonsense, as if they were crazy. But few people perceive a clever look behind this behavior.

Being able to talk to animals, the daughters of forests hear everything they need from dogs, cats, mice and birds that live inside the city, acting like their eyes and ears to make sure humans are in control. After all, even not accepting this, humans are an insignificant part of nature as a whole, and the forest daughters watch them from a distance, to see if their actions will threaten nature around them. That is to say, no nobleman or even a cunning villain imagines that his own pet knows what he is talking about, and that this could go to the ears of others. Outside the domain of the urban jungle, the daughter of the forest takes the form of her spiritual animal, which blends in nature as if she had never left.
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/mgqxl4sx7/image.jpg)
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Daughters are capable of turning into any animal. And this also includes fantastic creatures, whether insignificant as a kobold, or fearsome as a drider. Their unique ability to blend into societies and cultures of different races to protect the balance of nature is unique because they do not choose sides. In one day, to protect the forest or nature as a whole, it can give a small and subtle help to a group of orcs, passing on sensitive information to them, so that they can eliminate the excess of humans that advance through the dominions of nature . Or on the other hand, it can aid adventurers who deal with the excess of other creatures dangerous to all, which harm the harmony of nature. But in the end, daughters know that all they do is only small contributions, because nature has its own way of finding balance.

They know that if the spirits of nature demand, disasters such as filth, earthquakes and even insect plague or the emergence of new, unknown creatures will happen, only to bring back the balance of life and death as a whole. What they know with their conscience is to be a counterpoint subtly and slowly balancing life... For abrupt and immediate changes is something that can happen, if the weight of the balance of nature hangs too much for either side, blessing only one civilized race, or the expansion of another tribal. Either with the possibility of disappearing of a race in extinction, or with the control to contain the excess of another, that could turn to be a mortal plague to all the others.

For the daughters, the only predator that bothers is the mage. They manipulate the laws of nature, experiment with creatures and plants, bring dead back to life, disturb elemental spirits, and enslave them. For daughters, their secrets should be out of reach for any mage. They avoid them, at all costs. And they walk away from them. Not for fear, but for safety: If they have to choose between avoiding them or eliminating them all, the first option is preferable, since druids do not enter into wars or create them, it only eliminates pests and unsuitable beings that harm the harmony of nature.
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Title: The Fontain of Blood
Post by: Shantis on June 13, 2018, 07:47:07 pm
Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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Spoiler
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The fountain of Blood
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/a7wrk44zv/30725632_619873081680596_4993193665384939520_n.jpg)
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Ancient legends, which came before the silver age, told of a beautiful marble fountain, representing a kind of faceless deity that protected all vampires. This faceless entity was represented by a person without mantles, being able to be either man or woman. Her/his skin was as pale as the full moon. Historians say that this faceless and nameless entity was the creator of the vampire race, to become a counterpoint to light and all good deities. To his/her faithful followers gave him intelligence and eternal undead life, feasting on the blood of his victims and those who work for his/her ideals.

Known only as "The Master," this entity (for lack of a more accurate and grounded term) first appeared in the lands of a rich kingdom at night. Walking in his white robe and hood, mortals who looked directly at the master's face fell dead, becoming zombies moments later. The walk toward the palace gave rise to a crowd of zombies, who were scattered around the capital, killing and devouring innocents wherever they went. But the zombies did not dare to walk toward the master or even overtake him. The master walked, with a distinct calm, and a posture, emanating an air of prestige and power. Some men and women, seeing his walk in the distance, quickly knelt before the road to the palace. And the master stopped and looked at those who knelt. And for a moment he/she reached for the nearest one to wash, touching his/her hand.

The first woman to touch his/her hand became his/her faithful priestess, known as Thana, representing death to those who are against the orders and desires of the master. The first man to touch his/her hand and stand up was baptized Hadria, who represents the darkness, become a defender of darkness and his/her champion in middle of fool mortals. Bian, a good-looking man become someone irresistible in the eyes of the mortal girls, who would drink from his words and follow his suggestions, always ending in lustful ends or scandals. Further on, a whole family of warriors stood together, kneeling and guns ahead, offering their services and loyalty. The master abenas waved, touching the weapons instead of them ... And the souls of all the members of Valdis were transferred to their weapons, becoming cursed and intelligent weapons, that possessed the bodies of those who touched them. On his way to the palace, the master obtained a large number of faithful servants, all vampires or maddened weapons, who floated as though they were in the hands of their former masters. And before the royal family and all the guard, ready to fight to the end, the master lowered his hood, and the darkness spread throughout the kingdom. In an endless night, the shadows and darkness took all the land for a year. Who was foolish enough to enter the darkness, never returned. And whoever tries to escape, as he leaves the deep mists, falls dead outside the limits of the kingdom, becoming a zombie, to walk back the lands of the master.
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/bmyc91gff/12466129_219192161748692_4511376458973095339_o.jpg)
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When the darkness was gone, the devastated lands were empty, and there were only ruins. The master, now with his servants and followers, reappeared seven more times in distant kingdoms... Walking through the capital, killing everything and everyone in his path, turning people into vampires or zombies ... And meeting the nobility in the palace, punished the whole kingdom with a year of deeper darkness and agony... To disappear without explanation.

Seventy years later, an island appeared in the middle of the sea, making night immediately, to any ship that is near of the island. Some sailors reported that the island was full of undead... And that in the palace on the top of the island it was possible to see a statue of the master, where hot blood flowed, filling a lake where the faithful vampires servants, having a feast, while discussing plans for the next action, as soon as their master allowed it.

When the mortals approached, the vampires made two choices... Or they fought each other until they died, and the last one was allowed to return, loaded with treasures or those who wanted to join, just had to drink a glass of blood from the fountain of the master, becoming vampires as well. The few who could come back, returned rich only to mark their homelands or kingdoms as targets for the faceless or named master's next visit. It was a matter of time for the master to visit other lands, spreading his power and expanding his court that worshiped him as a god of blood.
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Title: The Fall Of The Weak Gods
Post by: Shantis on June 14, 2018, 06:20:30 am
Aquaria opens a book, reading one of the pages of "Stories of a Lost World" carefully reading one of the many legends of ancient artifacts, which was described in her book.*
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The Fall Of The Weak Gods
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No one remembers the weak.
Only the weak ones.
The strongest rule.
The strongest command.

The faith of the weak creates weak gods.
Weak gods create weak worlds.
Weak worlds create weak people.
And weak people create failures.

This is the story of Targus,
As long as he's strong.
This story will be real.
And if I lie, may my weapons break!

In the day there was peace and boredom.
Weak people fearing weak people.
Weak people creating a weak nation.
Weak nation creating a weak world.

Targus came, he was not born.
For Targus is too strong,
And the war was born when he arrived.
And with the war, death was born. And died.

And Targus taught the weak to be strong.
And those who remained weak, died!
For Targus, the one who does not survive is the prey.
And only the warriors are the predators!

Targos brought the war with him.
The will to live
The creative mind, which creates weapons
Generate tactics, create legends!

The strong, life-giving heart
Generate courage, create strength!
The force of being,
the intensity of living!

Targus came, and taught to use his fists!
Then taught to use the stones!
To use wood!
And the strong have learned to make spears and axes!

Targus came naked, and killed tigers and wolves!
He ate the raw meat!
Put on filthy skin!
And the strong have learned to hunt and wear furs!

Targus came and saw rivals. He laughed.
The rivals laughed.
Targus attacked!
The rivals have fled or died!

One day, Targus decided something.
That mortals were tedious
And to heaven was to challenge the gods
And one by one, he defeated them.

But Targus did not kill any gods.
Only one he killed.
For he dared.
To be the god of war!

Targus was the war!
Targus was the battle!
Targus was the fight for life!
Targus was the winner!

And he, being mortal;
Sticking his blade.
On the right leg.
The god of war.

Like a flea.
Stung him and tormented him.
For an eternity.
Climbing the God like a montain.

And abandoned mortality
He was growing, each time.
That false deity.
He scaled!

On his march to the sky.
Rising by the pain of your enemy.
Who was said to be the master of war.
But he did not control the mighty Targus!

The blood of the fake.
God of war was flowing.
He bathed Targus's torso.
What a climb, without giving up!

The blood that hardened.
And he turned his armor.
And the cold or the heat.
It did not cause any more pain.

The false god of war.
The size of a mountain.
If he hurt himself with his hands.
trying to kill Targus, afraid.

Targus on the false god's chest came.
And his blade penetrated.
And his blade grew up.
Size was Targus's fury.

Mortals saw the false god
Giant in size,
Small in courage
Fall from the skies.

The Targus blade
Penetrated into his
heart when growing
Crushing the dreams of the false god of war.

The body of the false god.
He fell into the ice mountains.
The peaks impaled them.
And the cold froze him.

The false god of war
Died only because Targus
Did not wait to watch.
The next war he went to fight.

And instead of the old god name
Targus was cried out.
His followers bathed with blood.
Of your weak enemies.
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Targus is not a poet
Not protective or good
He just struggles. To force everyone
To be strong like them.

Targus is so strong,
That Selune hates him.
For no god or mortal
He is as powerful as Targus.

Targus smiled at Selune.
She loves peace, he loves war.
One day, the two will have a truce.
And when this happens.

Neither the gods will know
What the end the world will have.
Targus will only stop fighting
To drink and flirt.

(With Selune?)
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Title: A study about Sahuagin in Netheril
Post by: Shantis on June 15, 2018, 05:06:43 am
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*
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A study about Sahuagin in Netheril
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/ho7232qez/344sahuagin.jpg)
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Sahuagin, a distinct and strange critura who live in places with direct liguação with the sea, either on beaches or underwater caves. These undeveloped creatures are too small to be tamed and enslaved. Their constant dependence on water makes them difficult to breed in captivity. And their grotesque eating habits and stinking skills would make even the most tolerant of the nobles die poisoned. Apart from the commercial part to everyone who has read this opening paragraph, let's now briefly detail these different creatures.

Sahuagin are carnivorous, devouring other animals and civilized races to stay alive. Their culture, structured through the worship of an aquatic deity equal to them, framed every Sahuagin racial culture in a tribal structure, commanded by the chief of the tribe, supported by the shaman, reinforced by the trusted warriors and the rest of the race.

Sahuagin usually take possession of structures created by other races, especially the common or marine elves, whose meat is extremely tasty and attractive to them. The simple vision of an elf is capable of making a Sahuagin drool of anxiety over cracked flesh. They consider human flesh second-rate, but satisfying, because of the extreme ease of capturing and devouring adventurers or human fishermen.

Sahuagin possesses rudimentary skills in the areas of construction, weapons creation and armor. Whatever is most powerful is stolen from other races, its weapons being nothing but twigs with pieces of stone tied, and its altars rock with 3 spears tied, holding skulls of elves and humans.

Sahuagin takes care of their offspring in a different way: They generate dozens of eggs, and every generation of Sahuagin that is born, is forced to fight against his brothers and sisters to the death all the time, until they are strong in a point that the adults Please stop. Sahuagin females and males are practically the same, although the females generate a huge belly, carrying their eggs inside the body to flee all somewhere near the carcass of some elf or human, so that the offspring will instinctively devour and taste a delicacy unique, from which will print an impression that will hang for life, motivating the race to hunt elves or humans for pleasure.
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/ndnan8rej/90771.jpg)
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In terms of combat, these aquatic creatures are deadly in the water. At sea, they can mentally summon sharks, obeying their orders. On land, the natural fluids of their bodies generate a sedentary gas, stunning their victims to be overthrown by an hour of Sahuagin. They use weapons such as spears, ax and stones made of wood and cheap stone, but it is not uncommon to see them using metal weapons stolen by adventurers, and even using bows and beasts, as these dangerous creatures have an incredible memory, being able to learn movements and maneuvers just by looking... Passing the teaching to the members of their offspring

Sahuagin have poisonous glands that exude their gas in parts of their body, and have some sub-species capable of generating a near-acid oil to human touch. These glands are optimal for the production of stunting poisons, or dry glands, in a process of preparation (which for the sake of safety can not be exposed here) are thrown dry in one direction, and upon reaching the floor to poison bag, resulting in decomposition, creates a stinking stinking gas, capable of causing dizziness, vomiting and loss of senses. Arcana and priests can not concentrate, while warriors and others have difficulty moving their arms, feeling partial paralysis in their bodies.

Culturally speaking, the Sahuagin do not know how to read or write in most cases, save the shamans, who steal books and expand their limited knowledge, and keep magicians and priests of other races in a very rudimentary and limited language. mystical or divine knowledge of them. This type of Shama is extremely dangerous.

The habit consists of caves near the sea, temples and ruins with direct connection to sea water or rivers. It is very common to see inner tribes abandoning caves at the edge of the beach, after being taken over by human bandits, invading other regions, always by the sea
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Title: A study of soul structure - 3 Paths and 8 Pillars
Post by: Shantis on June 16, 2018, 06:00:21 pm
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*
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Spoiler
A study of soul structure - 3 Paths and 8 Pillars
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After an analytical vision through the soul of a mortal with heroic tendencies, I believe it is possible to verify the structuring of the motivations and traits that compose the soul of mortals with their own conscience, where life is not moved only by external racial instincts or conditioning. The report here is put coldly, without giving details of names, people, examples or places. The reason for this is that if I afford to say names, many will be offended. For his or her soul would be exposed, and the truth would be devastating if it were to the public.From now on, only analysis and theories. Ignore them if you want, but there is a lot to think about, and if they become worth people and their behaviors, they can easily identify traits of their personality and behaviors. At the same time, those that are exposed to the public. You can "read" the behavior of groups or even noble houses if pay enough attention.

The three paths that shape the pillars of one's souls are, in the absence, essence or exaggeration... Courage, Love and truth. The absence is, relatively Cowardice, Hate and falsehood. But leav the Cowardice, hate and falsehood aside for now... Negative aspects, or the absence of them generate broken or damaged pillars, which I will explain later. The normal pillars are... Honesty, Compassion, Valor, Justice, Sacrifice, Honor, Spirituality, Humility. Each Pillar is part of one or more of one path of our soul."

Honesty is pure truth. Compassion is pure love. Valor is pure corage. Justice is Truth with love. Sacrifice is Love with courage. Honor is truth with couragem. Spirituality is truth, love and courage combined. Humility is truth, love and courage independently, working side by side in equal parts.


*A draw of 8 pillars with each name*

"Honesty is respect for Truth... That which, when you possess it, means all may rely on your every word.

Compassion is Love of others. The quality that compels one to share the journeys of others.

Valor is Courage to stand up against risks. That which answers when great deeds are called for and "the cloak that protects the other pillars

Justice is Truth, tempered by Love. That which should be the same for nobles and common alike.

Sacrifice is Courage to give oneself in name of Love. That which is loath to place the self above all else.

Honor is Courage to seek and uphold the Truth. That which shirks no duty.

Spirituality is to seek Truth, Love and Courage from one's own self and the world around . That which, in knowing the self, knows all.

Humility is the opposite of Pride - the absence of Truth, Love or Courage. That which serfs are born with, but nobles must strive to attain.

A soul is composed of these 8 pillars, or the destroyed version of them. The more pillars destroyed, the more dangerous, cruel and malignant the soul. People are guided by the three paths, having a pillar or more as the moral structure of their actions, words and thoughts. The corroded version of these pillars and paths also guide people too. But they, in their purest or corrupted form, are extremely powerful, creating distortions and irreparable damage to themselves or to everyone around them.

When you talk and see other people, you will understand better... The Dwarves have a strong pillar named Honor and other as Honesty in most part of time. Humans, in some degree, become too decadent, losing humility, becoming too prideful. But have a strong sense of Valor and Spirituality, seeking for freedom and independence. But this is subject to other research in the future.

Listing each pillar... Honesty, Compassion, Valor, Justice, Sacrifice, Honor, Spirituality, Humility along with the 3 paths, Courage, Love and truth.

And now, each ruined or opposit pillar: Deceit, opposit of Honesty. Despise, opposit of Compassion. Destard, opposit of Valor.  Wrong, opposit of Justice. Greed, opposit of Sacrifice. Shame, opposit of Honor. Disbelief, opposit of Spirituality. Pride, opposit of Humility....


Another draw below of the 8 ruined pillars and the 3 ways of destruction...

"Cowardice, opposit of Coourage... Hate opposit of Love... and Falsehood, opposit of Truth.

The Deceitful soul uses logic and quick thinking to decieve others for personal gain. A seasoned swindler can profit considerably from his skill, and often has an extraordinary ability to avoid capture or discovery.

The Spiteful soul has often been severely emotionally scarred, leading to an intense hatred for all life, and an urge to exact vengeance upon anything breathing. They revel in the torment of others.

The Dastardly soul never dares to stand up for its beliefs, and it will not do anything that anyone may disagree with, out of fear for the consequences. When noone is around to see them, however, their true nature, whatever that may be, is revealed.

The Wrongful never cares about right or wrong. If acting upon the orders of others, they will follow these orders blindly and stop at nothing to get the job done. If acting out their own interests, they will tend to pursue the greatest good for themselves or their closest allies with no regard for the consequences of others.

The Covetous soul will never give up anything that belongs to it, no matter how desperate the call might be. It is driven by an intense urge for material profit and will sacrifice the interests of others to please this urge. Unlike Sacrifice, the Virtue which stands for self-Sacrifice, Covetous represents the sacrificing of others for personal gain.

The Shameful soul can never be trusted, for it will committ treason for personal gain. It will pretend to be a friend, but what it truly wants is information, profit, a strong ally or other personal gain only. When its friendship is put to the test, a shameful soul will abandon you.

The Disbelief soul does not believe in, nor care about the spirit. It believes that only matter exists and matters. For such a soul, there is no reason to ever pursue any higher ideal than personal gain, material security or sensual pleasure. This kind of soul often acts like a devout believer of its own religious school and may try to sway others to their belief. A disbelief soul is closely related to and often leads to cynicism.

The Prideful soul considers itself to be superior to other living beings. It will disregard others' opinions, thinking that it, alone, is capable of valid reasoning. The symptoms of Pride include arrogance, intolerance and egocentricity. "

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Title: Study about Fire Paw Gnolls
Post by: Shantis on June 16, 2018, 07:16:12 pm
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*
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Spoiler
Fire Paw Gnolls
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(https://s8.postimg.cc/7v8vkctrp/38b98f555efeb7e11cac85772a958153.jpg)
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Recently, there has been a series of attacks involving gnolls from a particular tribe, destroyed villages, farms, trading posts, caravans and even more intensely and actively threatening the life around Hadrian. This may not be the definite guide to everything you need to know about Gnolls, or even the final word on this particular tripo. But it will become a reference for future confrontations. I hope this helps you, adventurers, in the future.


1 - What are gnolls?

Gnolls are humanoid creatures with hyena traits. His insane laughter and his ferocity are very characteristic traits, as well as possible crifres, hairy characteristic of hyenas, skin was greenish-gray, and their furry hide a light or dark brown hue, sometimes marked with spots or stripes. Many gnolls also had a dirty yellow to reddish-gray crest-like mane that stood on end when they were angry. They have sharp tusks and claws, as well as physical traits such as agility and strength greater than a normal human.

Female gnolls were indistinguishable from males by size, in spite of a reputation for being shorter. In fact, so similar were male and female gnolls in appearance that they were often mistaken for one another. The only reliable way to tell the difference, other than through a close physical examination, was if a female was pregnant or openly nursing.

The tribal structure is usually linked to a stronger leader who guides the entire tribe. Often this leadership is done through the matriarchy, where the females lead, or someone with powers of magical origin or other means (see below). The tribe, although extremely savage, has an intense and unshakable loyalty to the members of the same offspring, descendants of the same female or matriarch. This is also influenced by the mentality of the pack, due to the traits of hyenas and wolves in the characteristics of this creature

2 - Rumors about Gnolls.

Many speak of demonic blood in this race, either because they are perhaps the fruit of some infernal experience, or the crossing between different species. It is not uncommon to see a leader or shaman of a gnoll (tribe) pack having pacts with demons and devils.

They usually mark their own skin with paintings or special marks, forming covenants in exchange for power, having the shaman or mystic leader of the pack (tribe) as channel of negotiation between infernal entities. These deals come about through the offering of victims slaughtered in battles in exchange for the expansion of gnoll territory or the ritual sacrifice of members directly attached to the pack itself.

3 - Culture and mentality of a gnoll

Gnolls are by nature a nomadic group, invading and attacking areas as the food of hunting and looting ends from one region, moving to another. Because of this, gnolls have developed a unique ability to dig and search for objects and items, such as sniffer dogs. They adapt everything they steal, and usually capture men to produce weapons and armor for them, or teach some weaker gnolls for this function. The captured women end up serving as entertainment, being forced to submit to it or die. These women usually die after a short time, moments after generating half-gnolls and humans (half-gnoll, see below).

Gnolls has a strong and intense sense of loyalty among members of the same pack / tribe, and all their savagery and aggression is directed at their victims and enemies. This strong sense of family is partly generated by females, who give birth to numerous gnolls, and they live under the orders of their mothers, following the leaders of their packs / tribes. An average gnoll lives around 30 years under normal conditions, but die early in many cases in the battlefield or raids.

4 - Half Gnolls

half-gnolls have the look and physical qualities of a common gnoll, but have the brightness and human mentality, and their sense of family and pack are weaker in terms of influence. Half-gnolls usually become wizards, shamans, or detain more elaborate skills than ordinary gnolls do not possess. The tribe / pack of gnolls usually capture human females to produce half-gnolls, to work from blacksmiths and take occupations where gnoll ferocity is not so advantageous. In contrast, those who hold magical abilities for blood (sorcerers) or faith (shamans) leave the secondary position in the tribe to adopt command posts or importance within the tribe / pack. An average half-gnoll lives around 50 to 60 yerars under normal conditions, but die early for sacrifice of any gnoll ritual or because are not too strong to survive after many raids and attacks.

5 - Fire paw Gnolls

Gorelikk is the power representation of this tribe / pack. Little is known about him for now, whether he is a devil or a gnoll leader with a direct pact with him. The gnolls of this tribe / pack attack villages and human farms, to sacrifice people, trying to make pacts with new devils and expand the power of Gorelikk. The most recent summoning attemp, prevented by a group of adventurers killed a devil was named Ash'nabagth.

Probably, if arrested in time, it is able to prevent the invocation of new devils, but if they are found too late, it is possible to confront devils and other infernal beings invoked by the gnolls.

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Title: Re: Aquaria Blackstone (Background and journal)
Post by: Shantis on June 20, 2018, 07:02:25 am
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*
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Spoiler
The old home of the Blackstone family
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(https://s8.postimg.cc/w4kwme4n9/medieval-house-drawing-51.jpg)
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Since long time ago, I miss my home. The old house with the a small tower, almost a mansion with some land, of our family. The family was great, my mother Pamela took care of the house while not going on explorations, cooking and cleaning with the help of the children. My father Arthur worked at the top of the small tower behind of the house, researching artifacts, relics and objects... While my uncle Rufus  was teaching all the children in the family how to write and read, and deal with math.

Our family was different from the others. The blood ties were for me and my younger sister, while the other 16 children who lived there were war orphans, children of slaves, who were abandoned at our doorstep to become free people when they grew up, and even children of people of different races, banned from society for several different reasons.

There were children of all ages in that house. The elders learned jobs such as planting and harvesting in our small piece of land, fishing or working with metal and wood, making small renovations to the eternal ruined house, while others getting older were adopted with apprentices to work and live with blacksmiths or carpenters in the region. Those who were more talented or interested, officially entered the family. These, exploring ruins, looking for historical relics, art objects or old documents... These always sought to raise funds to maintain our home.

I remember most of the kids in the house. And one of those who were my childhood friend, decided to follow me, becoming a Relic Hunter like me. Edgar. Speak easy, always find a way to find some shortcut to make work faster or easier. He came into our house at the age of 5, while I was only 3. We became friends of childhood and we started to grow together, always one taking care of the other. At fourteen, I was granted permission to work as a Relic Hunter, being guided by my parents. Edgar had already been in the field for two years, and he became my guardian and teacher on field exploration. Needless to say, at 16 I was already married to him.

The first year of my marriage was strange. It was not just when I dated him before. We spent a lot of time talking and talking about work, just relaxing to date at home, or when we were resting in a city. Strange concerns for a newly married woman, whether to buy a new dress or a new sword. Or if he had enough potion in his pack, instead of worrying about the price of food on the market. The friends we had were great people, but also adventurous. Hunters, warriors, wizards, all kinds of unusual people.

We always live on the edge, running away from dangerous creatures, or misusing fortune by opening an ark without checking for traps, or even if the map I made was with all the correct information. In the branch we lived, a mistake cost life. And Relic Hunter were always the first to die. I've seen a lot of decent people lose body parts for traps. And I've seen a lot of nice people get killed by using a cursed item, a poisoning potion, or why they stepped on the wrong stone in an old hallway.

By the third year of her marriage she was more mature, with a cooler veneer, calmer and trying to be more balanced. After seeing so many people die, I was the voice of the couple's reason, while often Edgar was the emotion in person, always cheerful and relaxed. For him life was a game, for me a business.We live with intensity, sleeping in tents or in luxurious rooms. We spent fortunes in miraculous potions and parchments of fantastic spells, only for the situation of "if anything happens, we will be prepared."

By the fourth year of marriage, we were already making new plans. He wanted to see with his own eyes an Enclave, how it worked, whether it had labyrinths or flying castles, marveling at seeing it floating in the sky. My desire was to be able to eat a hot meal without feeling the rain on my back, sleeping in a bed without worrying if the house was haunted, or if some wild animal would attack by surprise. But in the end, we ended up agreeing to buy a house of our own use, to have our children... I wanted to have a daughter to teach things, he a kid to teach how to play cards and steal fruits from neighbors' trees. Maybe adopt some orphans like my parents did, to give children a better chance, and live in peace in old age, teaching the younger ones.

Too bad it did not work.

My father, Arthur Blackstone, always said that life and the world can change in five minutes. And that day was the most real proof of that. Our group of seven, plus me and Edgar, have entered a stately ruin, filled with all sorts of fantastic historical objects, reasonably priced books and statues... The ruins were linerares, with only a narrow corridor between the rooms. Despite having disarmed common traps, what we were not prepared for was mystical traps. Someone in our group stepped on a painted rune on the ground, and the walls of the ruins collapsed, showing a hall full of graves. They were opening quickly and violently, making the carved stone covers rise to the top and crash to the ground in a loud and loud noise.

A huge group of undead were coming toward us. The priestess of Selune, Amara, was not able to frighten or weaken them. The warrior of the group, Marcos could not hurt the living dead, who wore black armor and weapons that seemed to be living shadows. Unlike normal zombies, these were fast, intelligent, and cruel. Marcos was beheaded with only one blow, while two other adventurers we met on that exploration died, being easily torn apart by the strange knights in black armor. The rest of the group decided to hurry back to the entrance of the ruins... And we were realizing that with each room we entered, returning on our way back, the walls exploded, revealing new inner rooms, with more undead black armor.

Even under magic effects to increase our speed of escape, the black knights were reaching us. Edgar, without warning, used some explosive jars to distract all the attention from the black armor, running back to the previous room, causing them to follow him. He pulled the lever, making a heavy stone door come down, sealing it inside.

I still hear his screams every night.

I spent all the savings I had with him for four years, to pay adventurers to rescue his body, without success. The first and second group died completely. And the following groups turned down my requests for help. My parents insisted that I go home. But I could not even walk through the door. The pain was intense, passing through a place full of memories of him. I just asked to get my clothes and I left, leaving my parents' house and my family behind. It was only after almost 3 months that I was able to recover. I moved my course to Hadrian.  An old friend spoke of a noble house that invests in relic hunters.

The town of Hadrian and the whole surrounding region is quite different from what I expected. Some good, some bad. It took a lot of hard work to get the privilege of having an office to work in an library of Vastir. Every day people with doubts, lost ask for help. Something about the lost hometown. Or about stories of his people. Or about some group of evil. Maybe about ways to find lost brothers or sisters. Who knows to research about some cult of evil. Or, explain to someone that going by the way of the sword does not work, if it does not become something they know when not to use the sword.

And slowly, I am pulled into this spiral of problems of others, often without solution. My fieldwork on relics begins to accumulate dust and cobwebs. My desire to research as much of the dwarven history as possible, though well regarded, is delayed every day by the desperate request of someone wanting to know more details about Roz'dha, while three noble houses and a arcane guild fight among themselves, like 4 spoiled kids. I keep listening to people pulling me into their problems, asking me to run for mayor. Or to associate with a noble house, without actually giving me some kind of encouragement or hearing from me what would make me change my mind.

I still stop for a few moments, reading the book "Stories of a Lost World", the book that Edgar gave me when I was a child, with all sorts of legend and ancient history to be researched. Maybe I can translate all the stories and publish them in the library. Maybe I still find some of of one legendary relic.


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Title: Guide about relics
Post by: Shantis on June 27, 2018, 03:21:14 am
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*
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Spoiler
Relics
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/jlldsevej/fantasy-weapon-collection-3d-model-low-poly-max-obj-3ds-fbx-dxf-.jpg)
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Unlike artifacts, which are constructed mystically by arcane, a relic is somewhat different due to way of work and rarity. The term "relic" usually consists of the physical remains of a important person, hero, noble or commoner with some personal effects in the history for different reasons. Unlike normal artifacts, created by mortals or gods, a relic is an object that naturally awakens by use, channeling power, whether divine or mystical, serving as an extension of the owner.

Unlike artifacts, relics gain their powers naturally, with use. The same sword used to fight pirates becomes more potent in confronting them, for its owner, being a paladin of justice and the weapon, being fully known gives strength and power because of his fame, prestige and mainly, historical presence.

Relics are very common among clerics and priests, where the faith of their faithful followers makes the process of channeling power over the years naturally. Another way for a "born" relic is when one is destroyed. A dragon hunter is famous for having killed several dragons using the same axe. But this dragon hunter is killed and his weapon destroyed by a lizardman, whose object is a mystical staff, like a shaman. The accumulated energy of a relic passes to another object, since the fame, prestige and all power naturally accumulated in the ancient relic is transferred to the nearest object when the original is destroyed.

Family heirlooms are powerful. The sword of the family patriarch, who passes from generation to generation, with the weight of family values gains power, and each generation of that family uses the relic as object of power and symbol of the values and goals of this family.

Fantastic creatures and monsters are also relic materials. The horn of a minotaur who is known to dominate a region ends up turning a mug for a barbarian warrior. The scales of a dragon, a shield. The whole story of the defeat of the creature, having its parts first transformed into trophy to accumulate admiration and power, and then to awaken its power as a relic is something that happens if not in a few years, through generations, as a family legacy.

But how do you awaken an ordinary object to become a relic?

First, the relic would have to be unique. Or in the form that was acquired, or how it was produced, or in the parts that it is made, or how it was used. This happens regardless of the owner's awareness.

Second, a relic can not be awakened in the normal way. She "wakes up" alone in the hands of her owner. Something happens, and the relic awakens its power subtly or intensely. Maybe something in your weight or color changes, or becomes more efficient against a certain type of enemy. The person begins to feel no fear, among other minor traits.

Third, the name. Every relic acquires its own name, given by the first owner who awakened it. Or she gains the proper name, through real histories told by others, describing their deeds in the hands of their owner. She can have the owner's last name, or be baptized by what she does. "Bloodspear" would be a spear that makes the enemy bleed to death, if injured. "Coldhammer" would be a hammer that when used in the forge, the metal cools, acquiring freezing properties.

Fourth, the aura of presence. It is not something like a visible spell. The weapon alone has a unique presence, distinct visible to all who look at it. It is not just "one more" among so many objects of the same type. It stands next to another exactly same object. One notes, even if it is some small detail, to highlight the difference of the presence of the object among the others.

Fifth. The quality. There are rustic relics in tribes and barbarians. But relics are usually found more easily when they are of exemplary quality, unique among all others. A forger makes ten thousand armor, to make one that would be able to awaken as a "relic" naturally, with the highest of his talents as creator. Or a manufacturer

The blacksmith, weaver, or any other creator who achieves the maximum of his ability gradually becomes famous for the creation of incredible, unusual objects that become relics over the years. These relics, coming from the same creator, share elements and traits similar to each other. The blind smith, who hammers his swords on the anvil, is able, through his incredible ability to hear and feel the metal, to create weapons that have a sonic sensitivity, almost singing while fighting, or that are so efficient in the hands of his owner that he would fight with closed eyes.


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Title: Historical Guide of Alchemy
Post by: Shantis on June 27, 2018, 05:05:52 pm
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*
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Spoiler
The historical guide of Alchemy
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(https://s15.postimg.cc/6bgtkmje3/table-of-symbols.jpg)
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Introduction


Alchemy is a process of achieving the desired effects, without necessarily using magic directly. These effects are achieved by changing certain ingredients by one or more processes, which in the end is used a product so that when consumed, the effects are applied to the consumer of the product. Alchemy is extremely complicated. It is based on the practical skills of early metal workers and craftsmen of other areas, and influenced so much of magic and occult thought. It must be remembered that when alchemy flourished there was no dividing line between science and magic. Ideas such as the influence of the planets and the effect of certain numbers or letters on people's lives might today be regarded as superstitious. At that time they were perfectly acceptable to those who were making the kind of accurate observations about the material world that paved the way for modern science.

Long before the beginning of alchemy, gold was regarded as the most valuable metal. Its possession indicated wealth and power, and it was prized for its beauty. Known as the most perfect metal, it soon required symbolic meaning. It came to stand for excellence, wisdom, light, and perfection. For serious alchemists gold had both a real and a symbolic significance, which at first seems confusing. The reason is that alchemists embarked on two different and difficult quests at the same time, and success in one meant success in the other. The first aim is the one that most people know about. The alchemist was attemping to find a way of transmuting, or changing, ordinary metals into the most perfect metal, gold. The second aim is less known but far more important. The alchemist was trying to make the soul progress from its ordinary state to one of spiritual perfection.




Equipment

What would an alchemist's laboratory have looked? That depends. For affordable brewing, at a popular price, only a cauldron will be needed, but you will be limited to creating potions from which your arcane abilities have it. But for a real alchemist, all of his equipment, carefully placed in a controlled environment, will build his laboratory. Often, the laboratory is built in basements, lofts, towers high locked to have a controlled environment. Another reason is to hide the secrets of their recipes, not to let unsuspecting people steal or misuse them. If you really wish to start to wokr as true alchemist, you need:

Quote

Alembic: the part of a still were liquid condenses.

Alundel: the part of a still which receives the distilled liquid.

Anthanor: a furnace rather like a modern chemist's sand bath, but using ashes instead.

Bain-Marie: an ancient water bath. Said to be the invention of Mary the Jewess, an early alchemist.

Calcinary Furnace: used for reducing metals and minerals into a fine powder.

Cucurbit: the part of the still where distillation occurs.

Cupel: a crucible made of bone ash.

Crucible: a small clay bowl, shaped so it could be supported on the rim of a furnace. Use for heating things at a high temperature.

Descensory: a funnel.

Descensory Furnace: a furnace with a funnel for pouring liquid down to a recepticle inside.

Dissolving Furnace: a small furnace supporting a pan of water with rings in the pan to hold glass containers. Resembles the modern water bath. See Bain-Marie.

Kerotakis: old name for a Soxhlet extractor.

Matrass: a simple flask. See Philosopher's Egg.

Pelican: a special distilling flask with two necks for continuous distillation.

Philosopher's Egg: a special type of retort in which the neck of the flask went straight up. The forerunner of the modern Florence flask.

Retort: a flask with a long curved neck which curved downward. Named after a type of wild goose.

Still: short for distilling. An apparatus which boils liquids and catches the condensation.

Tripod: older version of a ring stand.

Beakers, crystallization dishes, spatulas, cloth filters, mortars and pestles, and tongs were also used by the alchemist in much the same way they are used by chemists today.

Eight safety rules for any alchemist

1) Be reserved and silent.
2) Work in a remote private home.
3) Choose your working hours prudently.
4) Be patient, watchfull, and tenacious.
5) Work on a fixed plan.
6) Use only glass or glazed earthenware crucibles.
7) You must be rich enough to pay for your experiments. (Several centuries earlier, an alchemist named Zosimos the Wise suggested marrying a rich wife.)
8 ) Have nothing to do with nobles, priests or criminal people. Being independent and free is worth more than any gold.



Understanding the 4 elements

According to ancient alchemists of the empire, the basis of the entire material world was something he called prime or first matter. This was not, as it may first sound, some gray sludge from which the world would gradually evolved. In fact, it was not a substance one could see or touch. It had no physical existence on its own account. However, it was the one unchangeable reality behind the ever-changing material world. To give this matter a physical identity and individual characteristics, various stages of form were needed.

The first stage of form was found in the four elements of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. The elements, while distinguished from each other, are also related by four qualities. These qualities are dry, moist, hot, and cold. Each element possesses two qualities, of which one predominates, and each element is linked to two other elements by the quality they possess in common. Here is how this system applies:

(https://s15.postimg.cc/6ff8e93uz/Fourelements.png)

Fire is hot and dry with heat predominating.
Air is hot and moist with moisture predominating.
Water is moist and cold with cold predominating.
Earth is cold and dry with dryness predominating.


The diagram (above) shows complex interrelationship of these qualities more
clearly.


The main interest of alchemy theory of the elements from the point of view of alchemy is the idea of change. According to this theory each element can be transformed into another element through the quality they possess in common. In this way Fire can become Air through the action of heat; Air can become Water through the action of moistness; Water can become Earth through the action of coldness; and Earth can become Fire through the action of dryness. It is possible under this theory for an element gradually to complete the circle of change and go from Fire to Air, from Air to Water, from Water to Earth, and from Earth back to Fire, for example. It must be remembered that in all these changes the prime matter behind the form always remains the same.

The next stage of form in the four elements theory was that all physical manifestations in the world are composed of all four elements in different proportions. The varying amount of each element in the composition accounts for the infinite variety of things in the world. Because it was believed that elements could be transformed into other elements, it was only a small step to the assumption that all substances could be changed by altering the proportions of elements that constitute them. It is easy to see how alchemists took up on this idea. If as they believed, lead and gold consisted of different proportions of the same four elements, what was there to prevent the one being transformed into the other?

Our ancient alchemists had another theory that influenced the ideas of alchemists. This was on the formation of metals and minerals. He believed that when the Sun's rays fell on water, they produced a vaporous exhalation that was moist and cold. This exhalation became imprisoned in the dry earth, was compressed, and finally was converted to metal. All metals that are fusible or malleable, such as iron, copper, or gold, were, according to Aristotle, formed in this way. The formation of minerals, on the other hand, occured when the Sun's rays fell on dry land. They produced a smoky exhalation that was hot and dry, and the action of the heat produced the minerals. In this category the ancients alchemists included substances that cannot be melted, as well as substances such as sulfur.



The concept of astronomy through alchemy

From the earliest times men have looked to the skies for explanations of their own lives, and the idea of the influence of the planets was widespread. Gradually, over centuries, in places such as Vastiir and others enclaves, a complex astrological system was built up. Its ideas permeated all aspects of daily life.

The basis of astrology can be summed up in the phrase so often quoted in occult literature, and in particular in alchemy: "as above, so below." This meant everything in the Universe, of Macrocosm, had its parallel in the earthly world, or Microcosm. Everything worked in an ordered harmonious system, and everything was permeated by a Universal Spirit. It was this Spirit, which held the secret of the Universe, that the alchemists were trying to capture and compress into the Philosopher's Stone.

The system of correspondences, or connections, between the seven planets known to the Ancient World and all aspects of life was also extremely important. Tangible objects such as metals, animals, and plants, concepts such as colors, and abstract ideas such as love and wisdom were accorded to different planets, among which the ancients included the Sun and Moon. For example, some of the correspondences of Venus were copper, the color green, the dove and the sparrow, and the power of love. Alchemists made great use of this system of correspondences. Knowledge of the mysterious links between different things under the protection of the same planet was considered invaluable in many experiments. It also provided a ready-made symbolism or code in which one name could be substituted for another. Alchemists delighted in shrouding their writings with mystery and obscurity because they were always afraid the information would fall into the hands of the wrong people. Perhaps they also enjoyed secrecy for its own sake.

In short, each symbol of the zodiac represents one of the processes of alchemy, which in a carefully crafted text describes through allegories and stories such as making special recipes...



Procedures through magical ritual circles

Arcana and clergymen can expand the powers of alchemical recipe, using ritualistic circles at some stages of the preparation process. Many of these circles work as follows: The circle is drawn by adding symbols of the alchemical elements, and through mystic / divine awakening of these correctly positioned elements, they are used, added or mixed according to the alchemical process listed in the original recipe.

(http://://s15.postimg.cc/yxehebzgb/alchemy_tutorial_array_construction_by_themrparticleman-d8mfnk0.jpg)

(https://s15.postimg.cc/yxehebzgb/alchemy_tutorial_array_construction_by_themrparticleman-d8mfnk0.jpg)

(https://s15.postimg.cc/4fymmv4ej/alchemy_tutorial_bases_and_polygons_by_themrparticleman-d8fmya0.png)

(https://s15.postimg.cc/9q3ldym0r/alchemy_by_ennoea-d6qn3ha.jpg)

(https://s15.postimg.cc/66hnoj1ez/600_452155997.jpg)

Elements and processes, in detail

(https://s15.postimg.cc/mhhrkotaj/alchemy_tutorial_array_elements_symbols_by_themrparticleman-d8g.jpg)

(https://s15.postimg.cc/q2dn40sq3/alchemy_tutorial_substance_symbols_by_themrparticleman-d8vr33u.jpg)



Interpreting recipes

Alchemists have a way of protecting their own recipes. Each alchemist, individually speaking, creates for himself a code concealing processes, materials, order of procedure and other details of the alchemical recipe, through stories or drawings. Sometimes, races write in a racial dialect of their own, in addition to the common knowledge they all know.

These types of alchemists form hermetic groups and societies, which are usually small groups of a master, an auxiliary, and an apprentice, made up of family members, people with some bond in common, or all kinds of occult involvement, for noble or political reasons, from which they must keep their identities secret.

Another essential point is the use of trademarks, runes or symbols of the race, in a native language to do the whole process. I will list below some of the runes and marks used. You will have to research in detail to find out which race they are all

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Final words

This is a historical guide to alchemy, produced by Aquaria Blackstone. Many of the information contained herein has been saved in ancient documents, field research, and arcane and mystical knowledge collected over the years by the Blackstone family. Many of the secrets of alchemy are guarded behind groups like Arcane Guild, noble families or individuals in specific. This is a guide dedicated to the use of adventurers and other relic hunters, to help them recognize documents, objects and materials of major importance in their missions and explorations. Practical and real knowledge of alchemy can be taught through the Arcane Guild or a closer and responsible arcane master of you.

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