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Messages - Shantis

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121
Journals & Backgrounds / A study about Sahuagin in Netheril
« on: June 15, 2018, 05:06:43 am »
*Aquaria takes a travel journal, and write some notes*
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Spoiler
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A study about Sahuagin in Netheril
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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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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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122
The current crafting system only benefits production of armor and metal weapons. All other systems are not yet incorporated.

If the other crafting types were active, characters of all classes, not just those with STR something or spell of bull could take advantage of this, occupying themselves while recovering xp lost. The problem is not to lose xp, is to keep busy while recovering. Quests, content and roleplay help. But the system of craft and treasure hunting needs polishing


123
Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir
« on: June 14, 2018, 06:21:38 am »
*Aquaria delivers a parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"Greetings, master Pendragon. This time, something related with Targus...


- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"
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.
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Spoiler
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The Fall Of The Weak Gods
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.
.

.
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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.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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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.
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.

124
Journals & Backgrounds / The Fall Of The Weak Gods
« 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.*
.
.
.
Spoiler
.
.
.
The Fall Of The Weak Gods
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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?)
.
.

.
.
.
.

125
Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir
« on: June 13, 2018, 07:48:09 pm »
*Aquaria delivers a parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"Greetings, master Pendragon. This time, something related with death, blood and darkness.

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"
.
.
Spoiler
.
.
.
.
The fountain of Blood
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.
.

.
.
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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.
.
.
.
.
.
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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.
.
.

126
Journals & Backgrounds / The Fontain of Blood
« 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.*
.
.
Spoiler
.
.
.
.
The fountain of Blood
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
.

127
Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir
« on: June 12, 2018, 08:03:50 pm »
*Aquaria delivers a parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"Greetings, master Pendragon. This time, something related with a group of female druids.

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"
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.
Spoiler
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.
.
The Daughters of Forest
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.

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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 man 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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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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.
[/center]

128
Journals & Backgrounds / The Daughters of Forests
« 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.*
.
.
Spoiler
.
.
.
.
The Daughters of Forest
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
.
.
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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[/center]

129
General Discussion / Re: Icly vs oocly torture
« on: June 12, 2018, 07:39:16 am »
I think you would get in huge trouble by dm's if you kept reviving and killing someone so they go to lvl 4.... unless i misread your sentence.

No, you read right.

The point was the chat I had with another player, talking about the limits of the acceptable and not acceptable within the limited game system.

130
General Discussion / Icly vs oocly torture
« on: June 12, 2018, 06:51:08 am »
The game has no clear rules of what is allowed or not icly or occly, in terms of icly laws. This make a huge gray area, leaving a lot of complex problems. Some people stay in a gray area and is hard to know how to deal with them. In the best case, ignore and move with other players?

If have no witness or if the law (or if noble house don't care), A character can kill a pc icly, use a revive / ressurection scroll, kill again the character again, revive / ressurect him again, kill again and repeteat the whole process to throw the character back to lvl 4 or a little more?

Yes, a ugly dick move, but icly, anyone chaotic evil can make this. Checking the case, because I talked with someone and this point come as long debate. Because, if (as example) a (non-real) character of House Reschotti do this icly, is really torture on the player-character (of course, the trauma of death is intense), but oocly?

131
Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir
« on: June 12, 2018, 06:13:40 am »
*Aquaria delivers a parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"Greetings, master Pendragon. Another story related with Kaylessa, The Wasp Queen of Guillan Florest

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"

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Spoiler
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The Sisterhood of the Wasp
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When the invasion failed, Kaylessa, the wasp queen 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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132
Journals & Backgrounds / The Sisterhood of the Wasp
« 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.*
.
.
Spoiler
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.
.
.
The Sisterhood of the Wasp
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
When the invasion failed, Kaylessa, the wasp queen 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.
.
.
.

.
.
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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.
.
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133
Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir
« on: June 11, 2018, 12:18:21 pm »
My dear Relic Hunter,

I hope you enjoyed your tea.

If you would like, I have an offer for you. I have a spare office in the Library, would you be interested?

A place for you to reflex on your current and future works of art.

Albert Pendragon, Master Librarian

Aquaria reads the letter carefully, thinking for a long moment. And after some time, she send an answer.

"Greetings, Master Albert.

Having an appropriate place to work on my historical research and texts, and have a proper place to evaluate relics would be incredible, I will not lie. And with the recent problems occurring in Hadrian and with the death of Sir Snacks, I believe that I should change airs for my own safely. And with the friction between cults and noble houses harming people and lives, I'd better get away from Hadrian for a while.

Yes, I have an interest. At an appropriate time we will talk about the details, drinking a tea, as before.

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"

134
Netherese Library / Re: Contribution sent to the library of Vastiir
« on: June 11, 2018, 04:13:31 am »
*Aquaria delivers a parchment with a freshly copied story from her own research, with a note to the librarian.*

"Greetings, master Pendragon. Sorry, not in the mood to enter in details. But the notice reach you soon...

- Aquaria Blackstone, Relic hunter"

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 my leader and our knights of the a distante tale, grant me the courage to stand to this test.
I call upon an old sword, the mighty of the lady, grant me the skill to fulfill my quest.
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.

135
Journals & Backgrounds / The Fall of Snacks
« 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.

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