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Rainman:
Library listing ...

The Druid Stone Song

Legend of the 5 Swords

The Moradin's Coin

Silver Mountain Dragon Shield and Sword

The anvil of Souls

The stranger cards of Amanda Blueriver

Kaylessa, The Wasp Queen of Guillan Florest

Golden Lion Helm

Strrambarek's theorem

The Birth of the Outer Ring

Battle for Southbank

Battle for Valstiir


Elven Lore and Book Wing ( Written in Elven )

Battle for Nualla'n

Dark Elves: A history

Sun Elves: A history

Moon Elves: A History

The Crown Wars: A Dissenting Opinion

Moral Dilemmas (Part 1)

The Enchanted Quill

Snake Queen

The Founding of Nualla’n

An Enchanting Encounter

The Little Elf Girl

The Birth of the Outer Ring


Crafting Listings ( NEW )


Metals and Alloys

Magic Listings ( NEW )

A Summoner's Guide - Volume 1

A Summoner's Guide - Volume 2

A Summoner's Guide - Volume 3

Rainman:
The Druid Stone Song

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The Druid Stone Song
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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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Rainman:
Legend of the 5 Swords

SpoilerLegend 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.

Rainman:
The Moradin's Coin

SpoilerThe 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.

Rainman:
Silver Mountain Dragon Shield and Sword

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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.

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